Where does the weird wind blow? What fractal hives does the cosmic hornet carve rune-thick through the opaline hallways of worlds where only the mind has the innocent honesty to tread? Do you shell the self, the ego, or do you step away from the king who stands at the precipice, forever straining for that sweet drink of water which never comes?
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2 comments:
The weird wind blows the clouds and trees in their ultimate fractal symmetry and cohesion of all elements, with a head full of LSD, hark: the innocent honesty of it is that the world and everything in it from notions to oceans is made up of the same materials and is always in every conceivable and inconceivable way interconnected. if you swing your arm as tho throwing a baseball, you will analogously send vibrations in the same direction, with the speed invisible to 3D color power smell taste you determine subconsciously.
The king is the violent manifestation of ego and must be abandoned to realize the full potential for true beautiful experience we have during the rest of our rather tiny but important-in-the-overall-universe-flow-in-a-way-that's-hard-to-say lives. We can’t stand around yearning for some water, some life, have to find the river and swim to the ocean.
why does the sweet drink of water never come is because one has to earn it it has to be earned with hard and logical thought a process that consumes your inner self and beliefs and leaves your soul dry and thursty
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