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the innards twisted, my desire, the euphonious overlay of two choir slippery falling abyss, is there greater bliss? but as with all else, must eventually turn, will transition, may burn languish here not, this periodicity will never stop... the sum of your mystery, built-up by endless history our mist and tears proportional to greatness of heart appears yet no other path exists, when it's love... that lights this.
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The rain won't stop today. Around me is grey... too cold for Spring... But I like my voice as I sing... I feel lazy, sleepy kinda blue, and ruffled of melody you. I saw your words and sharpie tattoo, they layer me as sunless valley dew. magic princess tales, instruction and mission... angst... convolutes to this sweet fruition and I.... I watch the zag zig of water drip tea grip love sip
in your early fervor you ran with the children your flock of enthusiastics ascending stony hill its solitary twisted tree to shoot motion pictures of Caesar and his Brutus anguish cries to silver sky and the recluse ruddy pine how does this, die? comparative shady stage the annual filmmaking feat becomes laborious lumbering then Municipal bus greasy glass water blurs twisted tree until Caesar is not.
But a single mission aches within your lonely domain renounce the ramble no more my God, run with them again!
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-tony macasaet
The fabric forms a blanket draped and thrown over her bare shoulder her mystery and movement each fiber warming us the comfort of love woven into smooth tangles like electric current a grandmother's quilt Oh, wrap me in our star-dyed fibrils of God
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cloud churning to make sound
clouds only once seen... Yet similarity, simile, serene passing ocean under sail reelected sky due north, near lower Mapledale like watching fast moving dragon-cloud, upside-down chi-town gown everywhere all the time our reality, like the cloud, a passing, fading rhyme never seen that way the same again yet still sameness... Chaos and the fibrils of honey in hurricane of doubt, lover about to pout in balanced grandeur from point particle to end of the cosmos fuss intricate soul of us self similarity at any stop or station any jar of time's hardened gears, fearful nations summer childhood spheres. the illusion of sky touching ground just like our love to cloud churning ......to make sound. |
permanence astride the precipice
Sometimes I perceive an environment on the declivity of calamity hate, murder, hopelessness one pandemic away from the unraveling this I cannot affect...
while simultaneously, I am surrounded by the elemental energy that is the endogenous love comprising our parceled soul a selflessness like rain becoming sea... this I cannot neglect
the great metamorphosis looms while the nurturing bliss of life's gardener contently observes the blooming and decay, the glee of her lover... this, I battle to protect
tender permanence astride the precipice... my means to connect
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We should live with unrestrained love, passion to create principle to inspire purpose infused fate
free of attachment to people and materials for they are ephemeral... Bind eternally not to molecule but the fire that is a soul of spirit and us healed and whole |
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...If you traveled around like in the beat gen.... perhaps... in search of Kerouac's karma... eventually departing Newton and the breathing Earth.... blazing by quantum chaos... it's burps and blinking, merely a bedspread over deeper unknowns... diving, faster and faster, were time's antique clock tinks once more... then halts.... ...somewhere you pass Big Sur... below, warm gestures from an old figure near the coast... ...soon you arrive at our point particle.... ...the ultimate and only basis.. ... a buzzing, humming, singing elemental energy... ... energy imparts all else... all else is energy... at its core, everything is made of strings energy... including our souls. And now the journey must end, so it seems... ... and what will you find at the end of all universes?
you, one.. step.. behind now.
Welcome back.
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what is your theme? ...your motivation? your pain what is your ceaseless dream? shield thy face assimilate or die newly aware ascending to touch love, innate |
Regarding the Pursuit of wisdom, we deduce it is the pursuit... that is the wisdom... a determined quest that has no end, one we are.. never without. Immediately you understand... humility wonderment and, courage.
Be Brave Be Broken Be Blissful Be Blessed |
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Every disappointment is a lesson half of lessons are... listen, to the signs placed around you... live your life as an adventure... filled with sorrow, growth... bliss... do not seek out permanent comfort, for it is unobtainable, instead, seek out your true purpose... your innate motivation. Understand your purpose, and you become e t e r n a l
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These precarious times of transition can be so without apposition devoid of comfort our reality, o s t e n s i b l e ! ... but also ceaseless and in----di s p e n s a b l e they are the moments we ascend to finally, comprehend emboldened love we acquire spiritual unblinding.... unbinding, visualization of a free soul, ours, conjoined with, the divine... despite these heaped-up scars a brilliant... i n t e r t w i n e. |
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upon our rise each day we begin anew ripe to the world pulsing with hope self struggle love technically virgins
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The sea of humanity that floods most urban EDs across the country, contuses the soul of our collective consciousness... how do we allow the degree of hopelessness among millions of humans fester unchecked, amidst the beautiful rolling fields of American wealth, power and global influence? Regardless of the religious specifics we cherish with gentle hands, when our lasting creations, anoint the souls of distant infants with peace, love and comfort from suffering, we are eternal... ...our toil insuring the cycle propagates endlessly. I can think of few greater purposes. |
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-alm |
w h a t a m o m e n t t e a c h e s
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-NAB |
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It is the quietude of our bright souls that comforts and inspires through vast horizons of time and water... lest we allow our arbitrary reality dominance in our moment... rest, relief, love, and fragrant new kisses upon Cleopatra skin... God in yellow speckled leaf, wisdom in bent light layers of heavy eyelids and breezed ivy waves. What mystery awaits in the center, rapturous song of your unique element, your native frequency... a center that upon inward logarithmic spiral terminates at infinity, and a simple oneness of all mystery. |
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Inspire creation, let us not destroy like no other we choose that to deploy self or Love flows like smoke over a river of oneness, buzzing with energy, like chemicals, whether flesh or string sing interlocking souls... forming our mind of heaven |
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Leave a lasting effect, upon the Visco-elastic milieu, the brilliant water that connects all love and all life. Examine your soul... What affect hath my Destruction allowed? How do my creations affect those who must one day leave a lasting effect? If my effect & spirit do linger, seven generations from now, am I eternal? What fate awaits my love, more death than today, many first breaths from now, should I forsake this question? Examine your soul |
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I raced a girl in high-healed knee-high boots. lost for preoccupation of falling But played my song, and conjured a confectionary kiss. |
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Our exodus to still seas of heart is delayed by storm and drought decay of the brood doubt navigating this capacious realm we are not the vessel but the lustrous current guiding helm |
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Pulling things apart... a phrase with many meanings. We pull ourselves apart for the complexities of now, and forsake the simple kindness of spirit that defines who we truly are. For we are not the lumps of flesh and description imposed upon us... we are indeed nothing. We are nothing, but the flicker of blush vigor within. With some effort, we are capable of pulling apart this said indubitable state, our present reality. Look outward, into an unending spiral-energy inward. Pull reality apart. Separate yourself from chaos and randomness, greed and fear. Pull things apart... fused like molten plastic parts, extract you from the inanimate stew
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It does not matter how you synapse to the refulgent fabric of souls, so that your essence may survive your ship, only that you do somehow connect. -macastat |
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Healing requires the embrace of disappointment and unforeseen alterations, failure of load-bearing-walls, lost bearings and greasy springs. Allow the tinge of fire and anguish to pass, unheeded through your center. Demand no reparation or toll. Turn West and proceed with stillness of heart... love like the last chime of time is upon us... as if you would deplete every last vibrating filament of calenture and fury. With this, the healing comes. |
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