Objectified manifest's invertible investiture to metaphysical mystique astral projection's mystic symbiotic.  Yes I like to think I resemble God!!!  Perhaps everything that has ever existed will survive forever.  Retrospectively retroactive's omniscient ubiquity.  It makes sense considering that infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence's ubiquity.  Infinitely expansive vastness had an exogamy with the inky blackness.  Spatiotemporal telemetry's virility made fecundity of spacetime continuum's fertility.

I submit:

Is this a microcosmic phenomenon or more dependent on the depths of pervasion of its macrocosmic relativities.  Perhaps there is a unifying field theory we are not yet aware of which explains how it paradoxically is a little bit of both.

and:

With the advent of biological organisms the diversity of physical existence has apparently exceeded its physical complexity.  Understanding has evolved.  Relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrable forms.  


Treacherous traverse and eternal occasion, hectic duty deontological probity.  "The angel was a visage of resplendent beauty as it hovered in midair above the knoll."  Impeccable trollwood harlotry, "Strait up forever ontology on high."  I like to think we embody on the emote to exude aimed imbue.  Rosicrucian romanesque rotunda rouge.  Platypus plausible plinth.  Plum line backhoe special, anchor pin tachometer, plowshare track-ness!!!  Futurity fatidic's noumenal sentience's semantic regalia.  Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's indefatigably indomitable irrefragable incarnate.  What's to tell you, I'm an optimist on the identity crisis to do an enigma entity.  Imagination's immaturities incorporeity ideologies, clairaudience clairvoyance astral projection's categorical imperative.  Extraversion embezzlements euthanasia extortions, embark embargo's extradition.  Then again are we really responsible for the innate nature of our intrinsic incessant.  I like to think we could get away with it and still be good for I like to think our disembodied godlike spirits will not loose their proclivity for corporeally preternatural being.

And there is the stillness of the endless sleep
Tucked deep beneath the winter’s snow
Curled within the thickness of the earth
Released from sadness
Released from pain

Released

Released

Released

A consciousness freed to slip
Back into that vast ocean from whence it came,
Just like the way that stars exchange their lives in one,
Final dispersal of glorious light,
For the welcoming silence of a galactic night.

But then there is this cry
That falls and cuts hard and long right down the inner backbone of
My soul
And how it screams,
“No!”

And how in one, single moment, I know with such clarity that

I don't want to go.

And I can barely hold all of this love
In my hands
And I grasp at it while it overflows like a raging river and I am
Clutching at
Each precious memory,
Soaked in the undeniable surety

That I love all of this more than I could ever say

And I want to save each fractured second of it all;
Tiny arms around my neck
Mommy goodnight
The way the snow glints off the distant, highest peaks
As the new Dakota sun begins to climb
And the way I can snake my steps along ridges lined with conifers
And find the highest rocks,
Climbing to where the hawks glide below
In the open spaces above the cliffs
Where the alpine slopes roll and roll
To horizons made of crimson sunset and gold.

And I know that this is home;

Like the first notes plucked of the most beautiful chord,

Or the way my breathing ebbs and flows
Like a gentle river that the painted mountains hold
In a quiet grace
When I lay my face
Against your chest

Or every time I hear your voice.

And I want to hold on
To all of this
And I don’t want to let go
And how can I ever rip the very fabric of my soul
And just fade away,

Let go?

Every fiber of my being screams out “no!”