Live.
See who the authentic you is.
It's a burning flame but its form is
that like water.
Claim it.
Yes clasp and aim for it.
Claim it
and do it proudly so.
Only then can you pursue your goals.
The goals that lead to providence.
Yes the big P.
The providence you decided.
The fate YOU CREATED!

There's a small space
between the tip of a pen
and the fibers of notebook paper.
As it is with many truths,
that space cannot be seen.
Still, that small space is a universe
of holy ground where the miracle
of one’s soul is streamed
into the physical world
for all to see.

-Ron Gavalik

the water has boiled, the noodles are settling//
the music is going//
my cup is filled//
my thirst is quenched//
dinner is in the making//
i check on the noodles//
walking back to my computer i start to develop different ways to portray my ideas//
i'm one mouse click away from manifesting something that generated from the questionable//
sometimes i don't understand the reasons things work the way they do, but it makes so much sense//
the possibilities are endless, but there's only one sensical way//
there's also dramatic ways to portray the simple, but these days anything is possible//
i'm listening to coral wonder by george fenton, i'm looking at my fingers type//
how did i develop the coordination to type this?//
everything really is a practice.... just imagine exchanging the doing of texting into learning the violing and maybe even// becoming the worlds greatest player//
then again, that's a lot of texting.... a lot of practice//
i don't think communication is meant to be a tiring thing, i think that's why people text like crazy//
whatever though//
is it weird to miss someone who died before you were born?//
i feel that way about john lennon and charles bukowski....//
i want to live to see the day when i can see their motives reflecting on me//
i can't wrap my head around how much expression they have generated from within....//


i can't wait to live tomorrow//

The eyes look, but I see
The skin touches, but I feel
The nose sniffs, but I smell
The ears listen, but I hear
The tongue licks, but I taste.

So observation proves another.
A silent partner,
Silent until prompted
Waiting... and acting
When conscious eyes of experience aren't there to catelog being.
When all seems to flow naturally
I am not there to reflect
And no memory of my own can reveal
My lucidity.
An acting unconsciousness leaves awareness wanting.

I am slave
I am addiction
Airy
open my pages
Find a clear lack of clarity, apparently.
find the words of obscurity,
that kept ME,
feeling absurd / lacking purity.
Words that helped me hold you down
Hold me down
Consuming and reusing and expelling in a town
Where we have no choice but to be ourselves
Ourself as seemed reflected on a screen
Our|a|self we might through dedication gain applause for
But not ourself, the one our eye’s never see.
Even our own eyes.
A self i/u/we buried.
To seem I was special and lacked- |non|?-absurdity.