Tears from years of evanescence from the light contained within bodies, immovable objectified vessels still looking for more, to bring in and make a score for their next event, going places but getting nowhere fast. If only, I wish, hoping and praying for better and getting shoved to the sidelines, “we’ll call you, if we need you to come in…or how dare you to have such an idea or invention”.
Ah, higher so-called Ones, not of All, but of “their” All… hmm, how is possible, for a mushroom as me to hear… sights and sounds with none heard nor seen, doesn’t keep the knowledge from coming out. silly ones, from up beyond the 3rd staired level. dimensional beings, looking around and bringing up the beat of Hers, gotta love ’em for everything their putting in, to raise the beat and calm the ones of so-called below first class…
Seems like a comedic parade, all good, just not into games. And peace to yours, as this scene is not of we… Spark ed to different unknowns without desires. Loving you on your way to bliss me in-mine.
Haunting below and around, coming up now… What TH, is going on. masquerades from teasers poking-fun at the Remainers. Hate bullies, let it pass, no feelings here..breathe in “relax”. Like for those wise guys to get played back sometime, reality heroes with faked perceptions. Raising the dark, up like a cloud as eye strike it down to its eminence. Go with the flow, dissolved to move on, passerby’s ebb and flow. (gotta keep stuff from sticking to you!)
Beautiful sage, brushing the grounds, blooming rounds to be seen, felt and touched. Bees busy about their great work, flying by. Almost a small hive, as I reach to touch what is beneath the veil of them, making their sound, buzzing around. Sea no threat, be the wave, be it all, reach in an see… feelings are raised, from daze in a rage, ebb is out, just flow it in you and out, natures breath to breath, go with it the flow of breathing in and out. Grounded now, centered in space resting never in-place, sit in the comfort of the beauty in nature now, be in the center placed in the brain by heart and it’s present condition of emotional makeup, gently equilibrium.
Looking up, and seeing artificially-inseminated clouds going nowhere, just hanging around… boys, and their toys leaves an impressive feeling into the feeling of One in the center, not choosing sides, some men are beyond mad. just a slice, a piece, a sliver of what spreads through mass conscious, getting paid well to use others for their advances. Steps…reminds of masons, shooting for stars their void to contain, always stepping, on others to get further up. intentions are also goals to some, changing the course of it, and starting another, abruptly leaving the vessel hanging. their presents don’t necessarily reap rewards, as outcomes are evident when noticed that Elemental goalies are steering their layings and intentions, and clouds. Fissures of men, and women pretending to be human, figuratively. How may even the dimmest of a hue, in a man or woman, be without heart in their spirits’ endeavor and controlled by only their imperialistic view?
I’ve heard it said, within something I’ve read, why commit suicide when the spirit remains elusive to its carriers, only to keep coming back and playing hide-and-go-seek, within the next delivery system. But what if a soul may be distinguished, not by physical nor spiritual suicide, but by staying in and becoming the mind, in time. void of heart and soul, would spirit once there be lost forever, only following mind control?