Answers are the way. Don't chase dreams, but believe in them. Don't believe goals, but chase them. Emotions are limited only by the culture you reflect. TLDR.SPQR.LLAP
08 January 2016
portality
i leave y glasses on with eyes shut, they are tht only thing to not move, i awokenand was asked to find myself, my body shookwith rains of fear and timorous, rampant pathfinder dreams rattle melike creatures and boxes, annew supposition analogy, time constricted finality, the sngularity is near as always, the characters in a story, the players ina game the monstrous superiority of theculprit with no name, a thousand cuts and more as i cling to the shore washed from the river, seconds behind sunset, first behind sunrise, or was i upside down and faceing the coming waves of cold blue spires of whitecaps and the raging ceiling heir apparent a maddening sky of haze and red and torment of the climmering waters, should i have climbed across the see a breeze to've seemed, it is near everywhere, are the subjects not the same, to the wise and to the plain, the notes in a song i have lost my place, but in this so much is the same, it seems to reason that i've lost all so same the marker for serpent and the maze, they all look the same and cut their heads and drink and become them and they are still the serpents, the stomach crawlers, other beasts of the gentle kingdome fear, a seaitself was like the messange from the testof choices of grass where they are smaller for the cats, not the dungeon of the wolves and the cauldren of shadows nnatural, hybrid fear shake me form the treasure, and in the , a treasure of distraction this rememmberance of fighting traps in a prison for the dead, grandiose as of my thingking were it not just in my head, this my love built on the dying is a tomb but one way said, fortress tomb of moving mountains who rebirth the rivers red, from the waking to the misgiving, there are no missing in a world that's long since been dead, there had been signs of entry exit from the start of ends complete, that had been from one or many till i made up to the street, from a factory of numbers and safety nests replete, like the choices of a story from the end would never meet, a singularty gone insipid and there wasn't what was said