A Mushroom grows out of darkness..

Hit, in the head, of a lightbulb coming on… every chapter, within this book, has been hopes and desires to get out.. out of each and every predicament, looking back.. seeing self, within each chapter, asking, hoping and praying to get out.. out of that time, place and situation.. a very long time, to want out of the life you’re living.. and trying to make the best of a bad situation..

looking back, upon the accumulative thoughts, it adds up to not wanting to be here, on earth.. in this body, in this now.. in these conditions.. not wanting, the family given unto.. not wanting, the life living.. pick a chapter, within this book.. no denying, no life, for me.. why here, to endure.. slaved to all other, never a position to do for self.. always wanting, not a good book.. always reaching out, to be elsewhere.. what is life.. extractions of you, from one soul to another, with a few laughs, crying all the way… why is it so.. why does it have to be.. always working for others, in one way or another, some treating past sores with more compassion than others..

No rhyme, or reason detected thus far.. except not in a position to do as one prefers.. only preference now, one isn’t as bad as another.. what is this life, just draining this source.. living to give life to others’ conditions.. theses sights and sounds fragrance inner groundskeeping… visions of the mind, in time, unwind the inner workings.. going on without regard, of your knowing it…

Spirituality takes another course.. own who, and where you are, wherever that may be.. ground-down, imprisoned, or uncomfortable with surrounds… allow natural tendencies to come and go, keep mindset to owning the grounded, of your here and always now.. center your self, is the only way to make headwinds, breezing in the sailing… stop being somewhere else.. be, what transpires have become.. a being, within the vessel, and the sovereign spark that keeps us going… not to other places or events, but observing ones’ own.. an eventuality of the coming, and going, in, and out of your heart and mind.. and traveling thoughts to other, better places.. all parking areas.. from which, some never return.. getting off at stops, and leaving the trains of stops ahead, if we would have re-embarked, rather than staying in an outward current.. situations, involvements and feelings.. believing our ship is tied up, we wonder off to explore.. off the grid, of spiritual healing and into the matrix of shadows’ making…

time is outside, as is most looking.. get back to the vessel, and untie lines that bind upper mobility.. stay the course, disregard the ruckus to pull you back to dock.. stagnation is for slips and knots, once docked, the keys to start the motor get locked up again.. not finding keys, we stop looking in, and live without.. out of touch, touched by the weight of the landed masses.. helping fights and plights of misunderstandings… opinions and views skewed, by news prognosticating armageddons meant to tear your inner parts, into action and mental angst, of one-sided viewing.. cutting off the retractions, equalizing the new views.. opinions still, getting down to the jest, of inspired stances from paid informants delivering the goods, and starting the banned wagons.. diminished for a reason, reincarnated news for the season.. of the prescribed drift, showering on and into containers and reservoirs.. vessels that gave in, to cave-ins of befores, not realizing the scope and magnitude of the scores from casters voicing their banter…

making new views, we cast off the castings and shove off the mental coasting… the castaway seizes the vessel, and takes off for a different destination.. unknown, only the sailing away, and into the blue… sun on the horizon, wind at the back, of the weary sailor… no anchors weighing the down, the ship casts the whey of the previous consumptions, the feeding, never fulfilling the no longer customer of outside attacks of interior functions… absorbing feelings, from hints and allegations, fueling fires to burn in anticipation of gossip, never knowing, they are the ones under attack.. from the inside out, seal teams went in and set the detonators, to blow up in another time and place.. lit with a fuse, the grumblings mumble without our regard, weighting, to explode its one -sided fury when lighted by the carriers, of separating facts and fictions, creating spin zones withins…

no longer perched on stormy shores, watching the vomit of darkening souls’ delight, one outside the paradigm takes leave of their abscess.. looking back, at the hurting, harming and attacking anything outside the path of imposed considerations and obligations.. not minding the playing in shadows or darkness, but disclaimers are never given and always ignored by the patient, under care of others, and not knowing it… lodged in the stirring, dislodges arrows to pierce by your bow, once, anothers battle cry now becomes your owned.. causing sticking to believing, and supporting sides, of unethical arbitrators licensed to kill detractions… oh, what a tangled mess, no sense in unweaving, caught in anothers’ trap of containing your reasonings… to opinions in matter, void the spiritual consequence.. changing the channeling, of know news is good nous, not allowing outside influencers to point the way… not caved into thinking, of prehistoric fears and jealous zealots attempting to multiply their numbers… untangling, and finding you’re not alone.. by a long stretch, of the imagination, integrity and soul flames hearts will to maintain its own orbit, resin ate urr… upper regions, regulating flow to the lower legions of ebb.. tides of another kind, recycling or renewing, tearing the downs and break ups, or hugging the loving of a nurturing relationship…

Staying out of time, easier said when done.. staying out of theirs, easier done when replacing the moments, from alert and defensive posturing, to One.. reflecting the acting, false flag waving and militia’s mindset.. calling one extremist, claims from one infidel to another, dependent upon the strategy.. anticipated, calculated strikes of intentions, now remain dumped where they found us.. leaving all of them, headed in a newsworthy direction… no programs, commercial endeavors, muting the babel… tearing down, abandoning sites of annihilations at others’ expensed… toning down and loosening rhetoric, casting out shadows, and giving light to our own.. inspecting thought channels that arise at the surface, and making parental control adjustments to keep the learning and rising on the connective track… program your self, boarding up windows and doors to horrors of before.. allowing in, what you intend to stay like a welcoming friend, closing and bolting the door from opening, to weights and measures scaling the life out of living bodies..

living in earnest, not hoping or praying nor hoping for a different living.. but surviving in the yearning to peacefully exist,  and comfort the inner being…. becoming, the existence of being.. not a noun, but a nous.. being a verb, an active motion between the start and end of each sentence… the movement, not the person, place or thing masking other facets of their beings.. being the facet, and manipulating its coursing, rather than its conditioning.. staying in each flow, and working on the kinks.. swimming within the ocean of depths, that come from living in another reality.. one passed down and accepted without the knowing, has over-stayed its welcome and is shown the door out.. not schooled in aquariums any more, not knowing we’re tanked.. swimming freely without the parameters of the shored… schools of ones’ own makings and meeting other break away citizens..

denizens of the Deep, within, without and among.. awakened to their predatory prowess to knead and control, controls the One, and its currents.. closing the gap, connecting the rods, driving but not forcing the flowing polars… keeping mind point, set, match… contributing to owns’ rehab, getting back up and dusting off, sovereign do as thou will, as it is written, so let it be done… being of now, we see the writing on the wall.. what is your truth, and what has it done for you lately?  Feel, a verb, an actuary of risk management… feeling, an adverb, to modify the relation, of sights, sounds and conditions.. felt, a passing sense, a stance, to bring future sensibilities, by the drawing upon… keys again, locked in a trove, of antiquity.. intentionally consummating the feelings towards higher and lower degrees, demonstrates movements in waves and frequencies, preparing for larger conceptions… moving the insides will eventualise the concepts and conditions necessary to carry off the feat, of moving objects outside of the body… guess those fables weren’t so mythological, after all.. is said and done, it doesn’t even matter… but does even the odds.. of physical’s battle with the Deep….

 

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