words can bring life or cut sharp, as a knife at your throat forming portals to aid a spiritual escape. words can bring fate or bring smiles to the face of the beholder. words are everything still nothing.
its like all words turn to tear drops in attempt to introduce shallow to depth. my excuse is deep sadness, what's yours? - since my contributions are unsteady like the grounds i walk, id rather not give nor take.
here's an ode to midnight drains and dreams suffocated by pointless comparison amongst rare forms of being. in a world of misfits, comparison steals all joy. - in a world of misfits, who cares if only 1% can relate to the comprehension of dark & light, as whole. who cares when soul outweighs modern roles played by vamps, getting hype while you drain. - i take hype in doses, to help me to 'loosen up' at pity parties where i'd dance if 3D grounds were stable. but my energy, is it dead? is it still dying as i continue to realize my own sense of aliveness?
i see promise in the astral realm to realize truth within the physical. when normal dreaming becomes bore, day dream wont let me explore far enough to go deep enough to unlock words they wont say... = financial intelligence, symbolic terms, number codes & sound programming. progressing in alignment, meeting guidance half way. = so now, i take the first step. if i look right, i may look left. who cares what's next? unless creation turned creator. wanna be way too involved over simple catering to one-sided mono-polys. = polyester in the fields, no more cotton to be reeled. no more lovers left alive, anywhere?