ST146 ... 'people get ready' says a homeless soul from a ditch along the glamour.
someone from the bleachers yells out, 'kill that messenger, belittle-um, segregate-um, feedum sugar'.
The constant pursuing of the dream state, in the mind and beyond the wavery gates. The perfect society - everyone content. The delicate architecture of the immaculate soul emanating across the globe.
Absurdity in its finest cloth, time wasted washing ashore, another interpretation of eternity forcing its way into the backyards of the brain.
The game of the masters coercing everyone to feel free, decisions accessible for every man woman and child in exchange for taxes; a harmony beyond imagination, a future utopia.
Get what you want, the fences are closing in. There is no love in owning. You own nothing. We are all caretakers. I am not of any country, any creed any permanence. Do what you want. Organize the land and all its creatures. Build entities to control the system.
I have a short time here. I trust nature. I trust her ways, as violent, serene, uncertain as the winds. I walk with her mystery uncertain.
Keep moving with the popular crowd, in the shallow structures of broken waters plastic and beaten. Accumulate more fake love into your bleeding heart. I am nothing in this world. I have nothing to offer other than a few pieces of tobacco, a smell of a real orange, a taste of shelter, three lonely coyotes playing on a distant horizon. I have nothing left to say. The night sky is appearing, the stars are beginning to awaken. Our time here is coming to an end. The world of man and all its drama, the politics, the thug tug in war, the secret agendas, the arguments and debates amongst the fact holders.
We are the people, we are the way, we are the survivors of the floods, the fires, the thoughts scattering up into the heavens, we are the saviors, the scape goats, the holy ones the tortured, the humble, the mistaken abused simple hearts moving across the screen.
We have one job and one job only; to see, to see the dark and to see the light; it is all inside, it is all one, for everyone.. the outside is a hinderance, a trick, a waste of precious moments - condemned for a few nuggets of time across scriptures of the heart determined by our own in-sight.
Across the illusion of stability, the dreams of endless pleasure, the battlefields of logic……. it is time out of mind ending.
Look yonder, there, the further shore, along the endless dessert of realities, let the clear light pierce the dark dunes of silence within the roaring winds, hear its cry of mystery, live.
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