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learn your questions. discern the myriad as One, and console your misery with service. pour your fumes into the heart of mars; press pause when your gods make you nervous.  and when they don't exist, you whistle while you hurt... as if the Master Plan had jokes. but know this. your cathedrals have killed people, and your faith was crushed - whenever sincere. so i bid you peace. a peace with tranquil thoughts and night lemmings; squealing right over the Cliffnotes to Oblivion, in vapid terror and happy herds. their little parachutes; cumbersome, with snapped threads to a forum, that unpack, once filled with air and parents . you inherit the edge of your vague notions.... that expand upon dissent . heretic tick BOOM ! then make love, all day Wednesday learn your questions. gain the gist of your out-risible ignorance and invent the humor of  "precise submission" as humility will boast , enthroned above the kingdom of desire aching hermetic in a mob. but knobs - that turn,  despite severed hands turn Truth's ***** learn your throat. hold only the notes to your music to a golden standard ! Brandish your exile, like a rogue - from it's sheath of Turin [ and flash! ]   it's blade of grasp in Walt Whitman's Verile Phase... face your loved ones, but only with the face that got away. return... return unbridled and unkempt. more windswept than lost and found   haunted... and remember eat whatever you **** well please because " **** Dr. Phil, Really ? " Have you ever  seen an anorexic Buddha ? and bought that one ? if you have... you might be ascetic.
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Pass The Hat To All But Headless Men
learn your questions. discern the myriad as One, and console your misery with service. pour your fumes into the heart of mars; press pause when your gods make you nervous.  and when they don't exist, you whistle while you hurt... as if the Master Plan had jokes. but know this. your cathedrals have killed people, and your faith was crushed - whenever sincere. so i bid you peace. a peace with tranquil thoughts and night lemmings; squealing right over the Cliffnotes to Oblivion, in vapid terror and happy herds. their little parachutes; cumbersome, with snapped threads to a forum, that unpack, once filled with air and parents . you inherit the edge of your vague notions.... that expand upon dissent . heretic tick BOOM ! then make love, all day Wednesday learn your questions. gain the gist of your out-risible ignorance and invent the humor of  "precise submission" as humility will boast , enthroned above the kingdom of desire aching hermetic in a mob. but knobs - that turn,  despite severed hands turn Truth's ***** learn your throat. hold only the notes to your music to a golden standard ! Brandish your exile, like a rogue - from it's sheath of Turin [ and flash! ]   it's blade of grasp in Walt Whitman's Verile Phase... face your loved ones, but only with the face that got away. return... return unbridled and unkempt. more windswept than lost and found   haunted... and remember eat whatever you **** well please because " **** Dr. Phil, Really ? " Have you ever  seen an anorexic Buddha ? and bought that one ? if you have... you might be ascetic.
third-eye-candy
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third-eye-candy
M/American
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
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