no genocide in my atmosphere
i live in abandoned creeks where the trees purify my gray tobacco filled lungs
the valid is everywhere
indulgence to color black and white stories
im a boy with the mind of an 86 year old ex drug addict with a flame in his heart being put out by a girl he lost his virginity to
my rebellious ways are triggered by the raking of my joys being taken away
i carry balloons in my backpack to show people that even if your physical state shows bags under your eyes,
inflation of colourful ideas can be put out whenever through experience in this realm of fullness of time and self narration to any destination