Life is all entertainment , just like a psychedelic theater, our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation.
I roam in and out my worldless kingdom
Freedom's reserved for the wild and untamed.
For who cares to know, we could fly our way out as falcons , or swim our way in as whales. It will never really matter because it's all entertainment , while we patiently wait for the emanations.
Expectations emerge from preconceived notions and blocks the transmissions entitled to all sentient beings.
Like a collective prophet and a magnet , we learn to filter the commands to percieve the matrix. Finally to redefine and recreate a convenient  path that is real.
Our thoughts and breath whisper reality into creation, i chose my fun as transmutation, life is recreational.


Words Of Harfouchism

There's the seer of frolicking clouds posed:
Suddenly, the sky's streams -
Made of melt that the sun creams,
They gloom her dull eyes with dreams
While the umbrella relinquishes closed.

There's the little gyre of a colour:
She'd made the choice of shade -
Brought, no silence, no parade
Or a lively barricade,
While she lived in natural poise, solar.

I will forgive but not forget and
hold every bit of it
inside of me to fester and burn
like the pain and betrayal. You haven't earned
back my trust completely and every time
you raise your voice
I wonder if I had the choice
Or if the cycle and its circles run me, like a hamster on a wheel.
Always going, never reaching an end, never a happily ever after.

She's blocking the pain so that it doesn't flow through her.
Replacing is what she turned to,
To make her pain be numbed.
This had a complete opposite effect on the person she once loved.
He fell for miles,
Lost his identity and then got it back.
That is hell.
He has been to hell and back and now knows,
Another person's pain is another person's pleasure.
Both are evil things, but
Now I know how to not let them get the best of me

can't be put through the same thing again
i need a little change.

can someone or something come along
so that i can be free?

Awake i found the languages have changed in my sleep
The sequence of words is lost and so is my power to will

People talk strange but sill imitate their creator
Behaviour is predictable when you're attached to a prayer

Obey my ageless tongue

I dare question my presence in this dimension
With one intention
An ancient practice and an encounter
The timelessness of magic shall bring back my willpower

The symbols are drawn
The words are assembled
At the crack of dawn
I shall have my answers




Words Of Harfouchism

Always a but hanging off the sentence like a cliffs edge.
Here we are standing.
Eyes wide open.
Palms out to the sky.
Ready to fall into the end as if it was beginning.