Isn’t it odd to go to a place with the intent to immortalize a moment – Without knowing what that moment will be like? Will
The problem with the problem
is not the problem at all.
We are sacred and safe only while we resist the digital dungeon, the library of all that is known, the brain of the enigma.
A is the birth of everything The consciousness that guides our faith The embers that breathe fire But thoughts of the lone self are bound
“Hello!” I shout, Over echoes of unconscious streams of vibrantly dynamic consciousnesses, But He can’t hear me, She can’t hear me, And neither can They.
Creation is my favorite thing of thoughts, of music, of writing, of dreams but its crazy that even the smallest things can hurt us or
He told her that he’d love her, Until after the stars turned to dust He told her she was gold And silver and velvet and maroon
Fall takes a false start But already it’s past too late Yesterday, we bid the sun farewell And made space for flavorful cornucopias. Candles of