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Curiosity, Bursting

Suddenly, I awoke;

A song of passion
A feeling of comfort
A Grand reminder
Of how it used to be

If illusionary, Still solid
If muted, Still bursting
If hopeless, Still gathering

A cry for a promising requiem
A reflection of a divine nature
A deeply holy and powerful secret
A starlight in the daytime
A magnificent dream

Love is simple;
It isn't grasped after
It isn't held on to
Love becomes like a birth
Love is created with a choice
Love is surrendered into

No control, none at all

A fascination with a new adventure
A curiosity that is comforting
A new birth, bursting

Shinin' Rightly

A tempered instance quietly curling
Morn come glory bound blooming

Spinning dizzly quietly dimming
Feet found waving weaving
Ripped Honestly Open

Contemplating Receiving;
What isn't seen or found
Seems more often to be
Simply still underground
Lovingly Waiting

Trusted Mystery,
Oh beloved

All is Complete

The Essence of Intense

The churning of embers
The lasting of ripping
Limited time with
Very specific measures

It's an excellent collective, as
Grand things remain difficult to grasp
The Heat Will Never Exhaust You
Although your body will fall
As will it all

Here's to remaining enmeshed in absolutely incredible everything
As a big great student...

Mischeveous Vehement

An itchy itch, itch itch, sneaking sliding evasive, changing; becoming.
Mysterious salad, mysterious bowl;
Muncheh muncheh, the rules always change..

Love taking form, entrapped; fixated.
Seedling growing, hoping, newly growling; munching.

Hitting the ground as if innocent.

Fleeting Spiraling Luminescent Awesome

Ever-evasive effervescent lasting wonderful mysterious golden rainbowy paradise palacey place;
Rigid lucid structures breaking bending molding beckoning~

Nothing escapes Nothing; in my eyes; although the illusion of time grounds and slows for any advent of stress or binding always, Methinks the angle of the bend is what governs most reactions, enneh.

Perhaps there only truth exists beyondwithin the darkness; perhaps for the life-form itself is better to revolutionize in its own dealings with the molding, living, ripping darkness.

Falling Gracefully

Floating in the wind, is where you'll find your stride

It will be the strength of all strengths that pulls you


It is too soon

In'sz'anity Aff'air

The darkness so beautifully tantalizing the known and glowing byof sensational mystery.

Balancin' that shit!
Creatin' that shit!

Newness giving birth to newness giving birth.
Kali's biting degeneration, scorching, making way for making way.
Darkness parasites feeding; the lusting depleting the lighting becoming the creating.
What goes up must exist before the come-down.
All must unwind.
That the ma'ture must have a na'tural taaaste for hell.
Until the flames purifyyyyyour mind.

Medoesn't understandmy attractionto thedarkness..
Leads me into holes in the ground,
Though naught it does relent.

Especially since....
"out" is just "all the way through"



'tis the raw'gitated vibration creation beso to motivate.
The underlain promise gaining gravity.
Must no longer.

I does not know the extraction of the dark bones or latent knots what welling from beneath shall steady whence, nor even the true origin if unique at all; all I know, can ever know, is simply what wells. What is. Thus what I know is that I am a being of millions multiplied by a world of trillions; that any pain can be overcome.

Speaks for itself.
Once must begin the unraveling,
by lightly considering positive outcomes tenaciously.

Fire Force of Eight

Splitting the paths, cutting the edge of polar opposites; remaining, trying.
Force behind a steady pace, must not force-for-stifle nor slow-down beginning-cutting.
Has to happen from the end of all edges, doesn't 'happen' at all.

Should slow.
That life could be a simple 'allowance' between all extremes, once having faced enough of.

Stirred, the bull raging mad; where shalst eight direct, or shalst one, even?
Paws clenched, fate grows furious in its powerful silence; silent as the snow, or sandscape.
Tunnelout longprecise; beautiful pinching erupting prison.
All-sender rises doomy child from the ever-all; remains indignant, useless.

Only rule of game: terrible frenzy, lots for long; depletion injustice.
From the Tomb to the fountain of Youth, the numbness arises the kingdom.

All-frenzy becomes regular-frenzy.
Alas. :)


All that 'giving life' asks of your perspective when it is in pain is to surrender your perspective; in a sense, having an ego is a good thing because it quite simply is a highly developed assimilator machine, packed both with ways to ever-assimilate the chaos procured from pain but even boiling over with directions to all of the next levels of perception; our souls are like trouts trying to swim to the source, physical bodies our rivers, experiencing sacred and beautiful things, our minds are our cases, spaceships, scales, with which to explore and experience the dimensions of the imaginations.
They trap us, though, 'selves'.
Pain and Suffering are Directions from your Soul. And they can not be ignored.
Our egos, that which colors and orchestrates all of our experiences in all of the multi-eternally expansive, ever-profoundly-dissected and all-connected way(s), are the reason we are, or potentially are, conscious of 'higher' dimensional ways of understanding experience in its absolute essence (imagine the 'next step' as being conjunct with experiencing everything you've ever, everyone has ever, felt, thought, experienced, all at once).
However, and this is the absolutely most important thing to remember: our bodies are created and destroyed by the 'third dimension' on sacred earth; we are truly, definitely, living animals. It Is Animals Who Have Hearts, Is It Animals Who Carry Spirits Inside Of Them (all of them); our bodies are just a sacred rock, made from sacred earth, drifting on the sacred river, that river which all life shares, the experience of life. The fountain feeds us all equally.
We are truly, all eternally experiencing the same thing, the whole universe all by herself.
And thus we are eternally safe from death.
Death is our creator, teacher, even.
Our hearts all belong to the planet, the universe.
Our perspectives (because we have the potential to expound on higher dimensional ways of experiencing the world) along with the living sea of the mother earth, create the pain.

Imagination is a real place; It's an entire journey.
Our egos do not have to dissect our experience; they will always be here, they will make the filters, but they are made out of essentially nothing....

they can not trap you forever.

Trust The Sacred River..