|If these walls could talk...
||[Apr. 21st, 2011|05:23 pm]
They wouldn't say much. I will look in the mirror from time to time and ask space, "is there somebody here?" I consider myself a shutterbug. I was smoking a lot of pot, but I quit it. My house is super clean yet no one to congratulate me. My former tenant had a lot of gay sex where I now sleep. Perhaps he placed me under a spell to allure the subconcious demons from my past. "Where are you going?" She asks "Home." I reply. "That is where our destiny lies." Buddha hear my prayer. I'm dabbling into the psychedelic drug realm to alllure the sensation of a transformation that is due. My prayer is death. My envy is paradise. My patrol is realtion. My name is....sanctity. If only they could see the things that I've seen. My brothers at opposite tables. I'm fire, he ash, and she water. I have created my own destiny with no one there to destroy it. Perhaps I shall put myself in a chair as did that poor man in
'The Human Chair" and delve into sexual freedoms which wouldn't exist.
"The spirit of an individual reaches its own absolute, through incessant negation."
Shhhhh. there is a storm coming...and I am invited.