we buy them
knowing they'll **** us in the long run.
she believes him
knowing he isn't the right one.
he takes them
even though he'll never compare to a thousand suns.
why?
easy.
we need to be happy.
why?
then we wouldn't be alive.
We hold onto that little bit of light,
and forget that looming sense of the dark,
to feel just the teensiest bit right.
the teensiest bit happy
finally putting up a fight.
We hold onto that
to stay alive
even if we know
that it'll **** us
anyway.

I found my self
asking the following question, after I got a yes
on is the universe friendly,

what good can I do in it?

This now, is after me, catching me, shooing a fly from the kitchen.

Uncle Toby did that sort of thing,
I heard,
I swear, I would if that were something I know I know how to do,
I would swear not at all,
otherwise.
Knowing,
I never understood either the marbled page or the black one,
and I barely recall Uncle Toby sparing the life
of a certain fly,

which reminds me, I chose to recall all I do know about that,
and share it, by tossing it back.
Tristam Shandy is full of powerful words lain idle now, some time.

-fishing for truth in this realm of words, thereś rules and hereś rules,
keyboard internationale now allows ¿ possible quest reject buttons

but at the price of normal apostrophes, we can live with that ś means
usually a karmic possession of the previous phase phrasing through

your attention span... jest ride on through..

the flaky bits of inimical karmas, make some people sneeze, when they
breathe,


thatś the better choice, when no real rules are known
but pain is a possible outcome of points
stumbled on unawares,
in far flung plains,
where the act of
polishing diamonds, or any hard thing, leaves the teensiest

shards that jest scrape away the **** of the earth,

collected in yo art trees, happy little trees,

jest put one
here, no, combine the two, to be like man-kind,
body and otherwise,

full and empty, both, in here.

Now, this is how we make a bubble be,
inside out.