The best gift
you can
ever give to
someone is
your playlist.
Give them all
your favorite songs.
It'll be like giving
away a musical
representation
of your soul.

I am the stranger outside
Watching you in the shower
The monster under your bed
When you're trying to sleep

I am the stalker in the shadows
When you're walking in the street
The fear on the dark corners
You know I'm waiting there

I am the nightmare at night
Those forbidden thoughts in your head
You try to make yourself resist
But you're a prisoner of my will

I am the coming *******
As you fall to your submission
The surrendering to completion
At last, you face exactly who I am

Forget me, forget me.

Let me soar ,and shackle me not to this celestial pit

Let me be, let me be

Let me cast my long hidden shadow onto the moon, the stars and out further than andromeda

Let me ******, Let me ******

And for heavens sake not the four seasons

Because for every summer there is a winter

But freedom from this bind lies in astral interstellar hitchhiking

And let me sail but not to the community of hatred and hated

We will all be swingers when we lay down on El Dorados doormat


It 'reads "oh yes, free, freedom you've become"

So forget me, let me be free and ****** into the absences of cohesive atoms

If not held captive. The only sense is aroma and gone from nostalgic induced swooning

And there, oh there, I will vacuum la polvere di Stella that witnessed the most grandiose falterings

-"Why do you breathe out?"

~"Because I breathe in."

-"Why do you breathe in?"

~"Because I breathe out."

-"How did this begin? I mean, how did it come about?"

~"I'm not exactly sure, though I swear I heard a shout."

-"Well, who was yelling to you?"

~"I don't know...but I cried."

-"And at your beginning, why cry, why not sing?"

~"Well because, my good friend, we start to die when we begin."

-"Pfffft, well if that's the way you see it then fine. We'll let it be-"

~"Oh no, dearest companion, you've asked the questions, the truth you will see. How truly there is no real Me or real You. How the mind has disguised what is one as something two. Two sides of the brain means two processors at work. I mean I should know I've been running them since birth. My experience cleaved so I may be able to comprehend something vague called reality? All that is real teases me, it flitters around my head and vanishes into nowhere, a land beyond Time,  beyond the dead. And so that's what I mean between breathing and not. Because the space between breaths is where the Truth will be taught."

-"...well...okay...hmm, um, check please!"