In the read, I won the whole world, You have been called down at every point in life, Reading holds on to the rungs a while.
Caged animals sometimes think they are fooling the zookeeper.
The bigger you get, the smaller and sadly cuter they become, don't be fooled, badgers are cute.
I can't remember any line of poem, but I do remember my heart a little differently after a while
When ignorance seems to know, fist clenched wicked, it truly knows, like the clenched fist, it knows nothing.
You get filled with renunciation quicker.
Ignorance mostly looks constipated, merely stares a fright, with every adult a practicing mad, read, rise and take governance from them.
You only truly appreciate the Jazz album subconscious, in the sleep when it transports you.
The world is your mental toilet, if only you can be generous with the shit, and abandon to the feed.
We get our candor from the attack of our enemies, such recalcitrance needs a firm gentle
teaching.
God works like an abacus you limit, he hinders you shift here he shifts there
Plan every day, schedule the idiocies in.
Moral sentiments stems from an inability to cold turkey.
Like sudden corn at a bird, at first it scares them then later they understand
That which you want should protect that which already exists. (For Palestine)
Keep saving your best for last, until the last same as the the first became uninterested.
Self worship is man's only dignitary for and towards
Encounters elongate the road back to the child once lost
Get a structured life, a to do list, cadence and pedal, pedal, pedal, awesome has an autopilot mode
Because you don't care people will care for you, the world lives for your notice it becomes restless when it cannot entertain you, you will feed off your invitation.
The mired will strike you with blindness of their heart, evade such with the knowledge in your mind
Love is the high they come for eventually.
Stale bread serves no one, love on hoard, love on condition, stale bread
Never succumb to or take advice from ignorance, Read and surrender to that madness people are afraid of, it was someone's vineyard once.
It is the role of the wicked to serve and provide the log that fuels the love always, like crease to an ironing.
Because there wass really no where to go, it then matters more how we go.
e5