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#zinn
8/28 I still feel cold Your forehead touching mine held captive as you were by your body’s new home, A wooden casket Felt so much, stoic past couldnt mask it No breath, On my knees howling, Body reaction analphylatic Must be allergic to truth, Epi my body please Save me so I can task it Inside sight still Burns so hot I'm melting out here, must be made outta patchwork plastic, Zinn man, can can you hear Your body resting, a symbolic system Forming a quietude of mourning moods , and murdered motivations, and somehow even inspirations Friend still dead so I gotta tremble Ritual require so we assemble, trouble is Pain is an illusion , but how  do I pierce this false Conclusion Falling prey powerfully to this pervasive grief, So still no vibrations This **** must be an optical delusion Still in disbelief and I still feel cold. Our whole community perceptions formed by conceptions, Creative community informed protection A general order of existence, clothed in factuality mood realistic, magnitude mystic So focused on your life, just so we could love and miss it Cause The candle that burns twice as bright lives half its life double finite Like a falling star you crashed Excited the red of my stop light Walked up to the circle jerks And hit me with a simple sound bite “Who wants to be my best friend and give me a cigaretee?” Leap of faith trying to touch a fallen star, You could be so blunt, people left with fingers burnt Look at the sky purple light know right where you are So subtle, always curious to what we could learn   Hand over my heart for 21 G=U=N Moments You had honor. I still have your rose, Dead as you are, withering beautifully Just as cold as I am.
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Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 8:22 PM UTC
Christopher Ryan Pickens
8/28 I still feel cold Your forehead touching mine held captive as you were by your body’s new home, A wooden casket Felt so much, stoic past couldnt mask it No breath, On my knees howling, Body reaction analphylatic Must be allergic to truth, Epi my body please Save me so I can task it Inside sight still Burns so hot I'm melting out here, must be made outta patchwork plastic, Zinn man, can can you hear Your body resting, a symbolic system Forming a quietude of mourning moods , and murdered motivations, and somehow even inspirations Friend still dead so I gotta tremble Ritual require so we assemble, trouble is Pain is an illusion , but how  do I pierce this false Conclusion Falling prey powerfully to this pervasive grief, So still no vibrations This **** must be an optical delusion Still in disbelief and I still feel cold. Our whole community perceptions formed by conceptions, Creative community informed protection A general order of existence, clothed in factuality mood realistic, magnitude mystic So focused on your life, just so we could love and miss it Cause The candle that burns twice as bright lives half its life double finite Like a falling star you crashed Excited the red of my stop light Walked up to the circle jerks And hit me with a simple sound bite “Who wants to be my best friend and give me a cigaretee?” Leap of faith trying to touch a fallen star, You could be so blunt, people left with fingers burnt Look at the sky purple light know right where you are So subtle, always curious to what we could learn   Hand over my heart for 21 G=U=N Moments You had honor. I still have your rose, Dead as you are, withering beautifully Just as cold as I am.
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TMD..Too many dreams, not enough dreamers. DMT Transcendent level of realities, neurological radio transmitting divine consciousness to filter out daily fallacies. Collapse in consciousness, Dismantle the physiological boundaries to achieve the pinnacle of a conglomeration of spiritual transformation. Reconnect with spirit, So help us Gaia, so help us universal nexus. Without even seeing you, i feel it deeply in my solar plexus, That we are all connected--- And through our hearts we are protected, we are alive and have been selected to march towards a new paradigm, each soul duly elected; through this process of love, and support from the synchronicity club, cleaning up sin city’s pub with our rhymes Going through lines and lines of authentic self cravers…. just to deal with jah created vacuums of reverse lasers wielded by ravers. Psycho’s thoughts to be psychonauts, Hiding doubts without the slightest worries Your mind’s a box, minuscule with so many boundaries But mine is vibrant, vividly stylish and keeps recurring The past is blurry, barely searching, yea I think u heard me The skell of the bass leaves zinn in his place So witness what’s great, see its simply sinful so straight We empty bliss into our systems till we hallucinate And then we’re up for days, blazed and drained, turned insane Time to recuperate Truth is paradox, Fancy words in a box Experiential knowledge overlookin the edge Speak of time as a mystery of the mind Vivid skies make you realize there is never a bind Perception of life, simply reflection Present moment with a longer extension Don’t even mention your problems Because We already solved em. Mescaline and bliss sends me to heaven but with drips Mix them together nice, chop it fine and I'm ready to commit Never thinking twice not hesitant, not I Meditation to astral projection, its my nature to fly In this world you have to take what you can find for fear of someone ripping it from your grasp in some desperate act of power. Knowing this, I would give mine away before the final hour. What a cruel game we play, torturing the self with a recreation of falsified rules. We can never create until we imagine the tools. I am not the prophet, but I can still predict the future. I am not the savior, but I can point out the vulture. The martyr selfishly lives vicariously through the lives of his followers. Bored in a solar system I see the greatest kingdom Geometric, moving pattern Static coughing orbit Saturn Hold that **** true words spoke Realize that life a joke.
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Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Do.Make.Think.
TMD..Too many dreams, not enough dreamers. DMT Transcendent level of realities, neurological radio transmitting divine consciousness to filter out daily fallacies. Collapse in consciousness, Dismantle the physiological boundaries to achieve the pinnacle of a conglomeration of spiritual transformation. Reconnect with spirit, So help us Gaia, so help us universal nexus. Without even seeing you, i feel it deeply in my solar plexus, That we are all connected--- And through our hearts we are protected, we are alive and have been selected to march towards a new paradigm, each soul duly elected; through this process of love, and support from the synchronicity club, cleaning up sin city’s pub with our rhymes Going through lines and lines of authentic self cravers…. just to deal with jah created vacuums of reverse lasers wielded by ravers. Psycho’s thoughts to be psychonauts, Hiding doubts without the slightest worries Your mind’s a box, minuscule with so many boundaries But mine is vibrant, vividly stylish and keeps recurring The past is blurry, barely searching, yea I think u heard me The skell of the bass leaves zinn in his place So witness what’s great, see its simply sinful so straight We empty bliss into our systems till we hallucinate And then we’re up for days, blazed and drained, turned insane Time to recuperate Truth is paradox, Fancy words in a box Experiential knowledge overlookin the edge Speak of time as a mystery of the mind Vivid skies make you realize there is never a bind Perception of life, simply reflection Present moment with a longer extension Don’t even mention your problems Because We already solved em. Mescaline and bliss sends me to heaven but with drips Mix them together nice, chop it fine and I'm ready to commit Never thinking twice not hesitant, not I Meditation to astral projection, its my nature to fly In this world you have to take what you can find for fear of someone ripping it from your grasp in some desperate act of power. Knowing this, I would give mine away before the final hour. What a cruel game we play, torturing the self with a recreation of falsified rules. We can never create until we imagine the tools. I am not the prophet, but I can still predict the future. I am not the savior, but I can point out the vulture. The martyr selfishly lives vicariously through the lives of his followers. Bored in a solar system I see the greatest kingdom Geometric, moving pattern Static coughing orbit Saturn Hold that **** true words spoke Realize that life a joke.
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