if only I could just break free of it and place myself in other frames or aims of mind where I could not be in a warehouse clearence center with a false misleading title and a false misleading atmosphere where I clear the warehouse of my life,
and why do I pretend to care when my boss catches me working at not working when all I want to work at is anti-work.
politics bringing my down and holding me there by the wrists and ankles but blood is more red than blood money and I stain the sky every where I travel -- I try to but my eyes have become too adjusted to the sensory illusion and propaganda of our air.
my hair actually nearly caused me to faint when it led me through a new door of perception.
I felt it fly past my head -- my ear -- at a speed unknown to me, of thoughts unthought.
what it was i cannot think of and so just type my time away not wanting to break but knowing I am hoping my break will come soon as it will mean my job is almost through though what my job is I have long forgotten or maybe I was never told.
my hold on reality is changing and tighting in my fluid understanding -- flowing into an ocean I cannot fathom to see but wish dearly for the ability to make a boat and fill it with the two of us to sail away to heaven on earth.
PEACE - Tristan
before || after
