Seems there’s always one, or two, or three ahead of you, when you’re running behind theirs and cleaning to stay up with messes they leave behind…in you.
No room for empathetic Ones when egotistical maniacs run the schedules of propogandizing news and views showing communicating intentions that darken ones trying to understand inner workings routinely cancelled on account of lightning.
What it takes to make it is less than you thinking “if” you can, or knot up insides to unwind what it takes to break up containment of currents making what it takes into conditions that link chains rather than break them. Breaking thought patterns of what if’s, into patience waiting, on a love worth waiting for, and taking the everlasting feeling for a ride of what it makes us into, along the roads we’re taking and holding onto, making what it takes to let go and improve upon the composure of the patients in mental wards and life stations of procedural operations of the what’s that keep containing them, recycled as emotional developments that keep on giving until demanding their stoppage of conditionings.
What does it give to make it…worth loving and fighting for, when that’s all you have to take with you, to take what it makes one into, an everlasting lover making out, and never tyre of kissing the full embrace of a Being in the moment, feeling gentle lips of the conjoining, and taking over feelings to become each other’s breath. A moment, a place, an embrace worth all one may muster the only matter worth holding onto, tightly, but ever-so-gently the moment contains the fancy, fantasy, and fermament to make a whole, new world, all outside the moment stripped of egotistical maniacs in the foreplay of simply Being, not thinking…
reminding Ones, when seeking for w’s, start outside the box, not contained within it looking for escape, but from afar observing into the totality of it, then breaking it down to its previous alpha’s, and inhabits before the questions. Use both hands, one to hold the jar, and one to remove the lid opposingly. Should lids not budge, break the containerments. If its knowledge was held there before, the pieces will replicate themselves under the rites and conditions, ever-so-gently picking up the broken, double-edged pieces appearing a mess to clean up to some, vase stones to pickup the light in prism to others…patients in the waiting room solving puzzles left in torn and broken boxes listening for further developments, while putting pieces of puzzles together and our minds off the inpatients’ intensive care and struggles. Supporting and loving recovery is a battle discovering it’s at odds with itself and conditions, not beyond to actual recovery but crying during the internal healing process, impeding the recovering from recovery, from battles, scars, wars, and cheap shots, rediscovers yourSelf, naked exposures, and complete surrender takes to the making out embracing its very essence for it’s commitment to a long lasting union neverending its unfoldment or climaxing its lastings…souls caring what it takes to make it, inhale the exhales, and feel the sweat it takes to build up bodies into spiritual awakenings consemating what it takes to put matter and feelings together, harmonizing inner Sol to use it’s force for greater purpose and development, of all in unison with nothing lacking or to desire, caught up in the heat of the body, mind, and feelings seizing the momentums allowance to breathe in all that’s left out of a moment of becoming the other, no longer just another piece, of just another puzzle, but all that is worth starting from or striving towards…ending up with what it takes to make it…or knot.