"Shall I mourn the
falsified information of death or the truth of living a life worth the value of
humanity? Do you ever find yourself awoken and there is an absence of a thought
pattern? No wandering images of how your day must go, there is no backwards
pointers of what has to be done today. My days begin and end this way. Thoughts
that come to me are not my own, feelings dwindling up inside my heart and
throat are not those from my persona, they are reflections of others versions of
emotional throw up. That is how it feels to me, like people walk by and throw
up their indecent lives all over my brand new white dress. Figuratively
speaking of course. There are disadvantages to this skill/gift, the fluent
language of music eludes the eardrums collecting tones in my brain waves." S.M.B
A writer's whim began as once another journey ended. This one started as birth rose inside a young woman's body and there became a life, a child who saw great space in the wakening of stars. Where in solitude the morality of man came into context of which one would survive, that maybe just maybe we all would. Evolve and invent, create and manifest such a grander perspective view of our live's. May we transform them into our dreams.
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