Sometimes it's great
just to relax here &
to let the music wash over me
It fills my ears
and winds itself into my blood stream
It wraps around my slowly beating heart
And it pulses with it, peaceful

It is my calming joy
It is my relaxing symphony
And I can lay here
And I will feel secure
I can gaze above me at the wide universe,
with so many questions,
but those questions are for another time
Right now is for admiring the beauty of the galaxy

These clouds float over my soft skin,
spraying it's percipitation
along my upturned face
I can feel the rain,
and the sunshine,
And I can see the rainbows dancing
behind my closed eyelids.

Slowly, ever so slowly,
I open my eyes
to the world around me
And I see
I can see life and the earth
The angels that shine in the heavens
as they sing thier soothing melodies
This moment is perfect
And I release a relaxed sigh
I can feel the hues and pigments
of calm spread without me

I am at peace

There's something about us.
Daft Punk makes the music feel fresh,
It spreads the love like freedom of the press
Sells out sets, so quickly among eyes
That can't quite catch their breath, no blinking
We wish we could but the bass hits too hard for breaks
I know by the end of the day I wont have to wait
Because one way you'll walk me home
Either we'll be too drunk to care, or I'll give you an offer
To hold your hair, hand you the water and let it all spill there
Into the the oval bowl of ceramic snow
The percipitation gets ***** and you feel better
But only until the next caring couple comes by to help our affair
I miss the nights I can't remember and hate the mornings I do
One day I'll see it all clear, hopefully you still wait for me my dear.

This boy, my boy that went away
Couldn’t make myself allow him to stay

He was the burn to my fire that caused my pain
The percipitation in the clouds that caused the rain

Here oh now
My heart reach lack
He was the one I gave everything to
But the one that never gave back

Allowed in my cries
Yet no one could hear
This boy comes back like a Holliday each year

The ******* and seize
In an old weary soul
So my mind won’t cease  
to leave me alone

The blood in my veins
He reveled within
The one who has always
Cause me to sin

DAYS DO TELLUS HOW TO THINK
ON OCCASIONALY WE GET PAID BEFORE A LONG WEEKEND
OR IS THIS A TEST FOR VALUE AGAINST WORTH
AGAINST THE ADVERSARYS REBIRTH

YOU KNOW THE LAST YOU THE ONE WHO WAS MAKING LIFE BETTER WHILE YOU FIXED THAT IN REINCARNATION AST TIME OU STEPPED ON SAND

LISTEN WE DONT LIVE WITH OUR HEADS IN SAND
OR ON LAND
PERCIPITATION LOOKS CLEAR WHEN IM WATCHING A SHARK FLOAT BY MY HAND

VAST BUT CORRECT THEY TEACH IN HAVOC
AND ANNA
RAVANNA
ALL THE SISTERS OF HAVANA
MAYBE WHITE IN A REINCARNATION HIDDEN FIGHT

HATS GLASSES MEN IN BOXES
TALKING LIKE HISTORY FREAKS IN 80'S MUSIC TV AND NEWS

THIS WAS PROPHESIED MONEY WONT BUY YOU CLUES
IT LIVING AND KNOWING
WALKING AND SHOWING

CAUSING EFFECT RUMI THROUGH YOUR REMAINS OF ART
KEEP SAFE WITH SPEECH
KNOWING THAT THEY WATCH YOU LIKE THEY WATCH THEM
TURN OFF THE TV GO FOR A WALK
HAVE THAT GODLIKE ONE ON ONE TALK

working from basics:
that rubric of prelimenaries was of great help,
unlike Jung and the whole psychology phenomenon
that ate and destroyed centuries of
masculine "repressive": philosophy...
well... who isn't to say that psychology
was a short-circutry of females bypassing
philosophy and entertaining
the gravity of the profane and frog burps
with feminism:
feminism killed off femininity
and in so doing brought out the worst
masculinity: of the individual: not species
a horde by its own...
just the barrage of unconscious archetypes
killed off the sensible: clone -esque
reincarnation bound stereotypes...
monographs of men...

             id est ergo id somnio:

such is the story and it begins with:
AI: id is ergo id cogitat...
there's no more room for such parades
of thoughts as peacock Descartes allowed...

my ego is located more south than in the highest
north of the mind and head
maybe once the sparkle on the tip of the top
of the spine:
but now my ego is occupying the space
in my stomach
and it's among butterflies and witches
and storms of the seas: namely Atlantic...
and i'm less about knowledge and philosophy
and wisdom and more about
knowledge intuition and a dasein...

the premise being:
i don't care much for the self:
i am an engineer of the human psyche
and i care much more for the dynamic
of what id is to ego
and what ego is to id
and now i gather the phenomenon of the syzygy...
schizophrenia for the troublesome
male.. who undermined modernity:

anima: eros
animus: logos...
but Jung forgot to mention the Minotaur
of Science
and him the man of science: the...
the labourer of labyrinths: which are not architecture
but rather architecture per se...

to think i would be going to Kauai
as an escape policy to rid myself of the tattoos
and parasites of London...
what am i? closing in on 70 times of spring?!
i wanted to explore the dynamic
of ego to id: self parasitic, not included:
for the art of that war we don't call
war but acting: the spiritual war of shadows
and souls...
music would disrupt....

so this Q of nQ of pronouns... the unconscious riddle...
i need a better job:
i've already caught up on Polish Communist
subversion cinema and
this Jan Fosse is not much of a reading...
if ego in the realm of thought:
and dreaming is a realm but not a faculty:
which can happen...
to equilivate ego with id
thinking is a realm
therefore dreaming is a realm...
not a faculty: there is no need to dream so much
if one doesn't desire interpretation of
intuition: not mere intellectual vanity
or female neurotic sexuality...

ego cogito: i think.... regardless of ego sum:
i don't feel inclined to entertain percipitation
some weather forecast of magically appearing...
to everyone...
what does the realm of thinking
represent?
no images... shekeltons...skeletons...
abstracts: problem solving mechanisms
of the ordeal of inanimate things being necessarily moved:
to convene under the guises of love
under shadows of graves of men of ambition...

so thinking is realm of silence and of:
letters are silently encoded:
then mishandled with so many tongues:
SZ = SH...
for example... then the abstract of numbers
also surds...
until quantum steps are made
and parallel dimenions discovered:
but i did say this would be a playground for Satan
and I... iSatan: little horn little i...
the best of times...
   so while the realm of thought is: concrete
on letters and numbers
the id (equivalent of ego in the realm of thought)
of the realm of dreams...
comes across: it's all underwater...
the phonetics are muted...
it's all images...
images and the arithmetic is suss...
suspicious...
4 cats... cats are not a problem... but 4 of them...
a number in a dream is a stressor signalizer...
U-boat beacon:
pact... regroup...
                     Bastion Fang: regroup:
there's an SOS beacon... i need to check it out...
it's called a music utilizer:
diet coke:
pepsi coke did one better:
Coca Cola FAILED... tastes like prosthetic
strawberries...
over #5000 in one account...
over $8000 in the other...

           not trying to be funny but... i have mold:
all green and Alien the movie ready...
the green ****
a whiff off of snow:
like some new breed will
about to be heaved:
the mad scientist in me always envisioned
breeding a superbreed of
when the ape
ate a donkey
and then later ate a mammoth
and ****** with a dog...
so i... became... god...

          a word among words:
point being:
id imaginari
            ego "sonorus"...
                      it imagines: therefore: dreams....
i think: because of a therefore...
again: i am is... irrelevant!

if only Mecca was relevant without
the leftoid investments of Bristol
and Bratford that old hag Medina...

dance **** of intellect:
i feed off the feminine unconscious in male...
i get my pronouns like new jew ninja arithmetic...

in the realm of AI and dreams:
need an Igor...
this Dracula became the Frankenstein...
because a man gave birth to DRacula
while a woman gave birth to a Frankenstein...
and i've aged so well:
so solid on the years in hell:
he was drunk on wine
for three years
i've been ***** for over 10 years
i love you all so much
i want i am human
i will drink this *****...

***** you're in the realm of mirrors...
now i have power...
i will:
this spiderweb is mine
i am spider:
ARANEA...

                 ah...            about a Boy
bon Jovi's guitarist motto...
  this Thames this thick fudge:
this custard of blackening sky so blue
with clouds and mirage of melancholgy:
little secret happiness happens:
regardless.