Wrighting for me has become frightening...
Like the Inkheart of silver tounges
I'm longing ...
I'm longing..
for the big moment taking the normal one step forward and two steps back..

Is backwards the way I choose to go ?

Where am I now ?
if not me am I too supposed to be younger ?

Am I growing old because I've yet to reach my destination?

Is time itself a made up reality?
If told that you couldn't fly why does a child draw a angel with feathers?
You see i Gather the contrast, theme and descriptive metaphor while constructively criticizing every detail I can until it's my own fault I live of such loneliness...

I can describe repeated blows threw the skulls skill to protect with waves unrecognizable as threats to the brain.
my acts of judgements that flood over my personal thoughts that which have beauty and meanings full of joyful suspense and conception of colors having *** without lust in it's detail the formulas combination of touch explodes like a theory on life.


It rains ideas like opening statements and hightens Senses with sent messages past smells of wet ground and rain while sounds of other memories play violin's like crickets drum,  
The man whistles like birds chirping, or grass whispering
Wildly to the feilds in waving motion of fans at a football stadium burning with passion for the next big play
With faces painted like warriors protecting there village until the final sound of thought can exit my mind and I can watch as words and arranged letters pair in a paragraph parading like a Paradise in a party I've partaked in only to say...
I'll never forget how to write or what my goals in life are there's just always to much to do.. and to much to say.
Maybe not enough time my enourmous instant seconds..
Thoughts of a whole story in moments I think gone as fast as a flash , or a car going buy hearing it's music for a split second and connection to how many in the car what color clothes they wear and how fast they're going,
Leaving my body actively still sitting reading what I've wrote the split second it's written amazed by myself and it's instant gratification holding on to life as if it's the most important thing ..
Forgetting what it was that made me what I am today because of all of the strength to never give up what I lost to learn love and miss hate like being taught what was at stake when only examples of Martyrs are whats left to bring back to date.