Beauty in the details. Intheplacementof spaces. In the p.o.i.n.t.s. between words.
With sense and presence, no perception, I live in truth. In a real place, not like my room, or my house, or new york. A real place, you know, like the one in your heart. The place you imagine. A real place.
Blindness veils, thoughts tear away, but when everything else quiets, I’ll get there. A real place.
Where I feel. Everything, in the palm of my hand and the beat of my heart. In the hand of a friend. In a fresh start.
Don’t prepare. Don’t obsess. Just be. Forget the rest.
There’s a sky. I promise.
There are stars and a moon.
There’s order in the world, it’s just called disorder.
Feel you’re heartbeat.
Come with me.
Don’t miss the chance to kiss the sky before you die.
Don’t ever, just get by.
It’s all in me. Its all in you. Every molecule atom electron in the world. They move. They change. But they stay. So everything is really the same. Can you ever feel that in your heart? Sometimes I can. When I listen— sometimes I hear.
leaves blowing on the trees,
Water trickling down a stream,
Ice floating on the top.
Flowers pushing through the frost of spring,
Bloom and die, die and bloom
Come and go, go and come
Good, bad and beautiful. My heart. The world.