Following a stream of consciousness, musical symphonous thought process, trickles and tickles and jabs and jousts. Damn you spellcheck.
Synchronous philosophies and moments in time combine, filling my mind with joy or clutter or both. Why not both? Why not? Why?
The perfect question… Answered by living trees of red tangled in bones and rooted in dead.
But if rhyme or reason are lost on me then what is the point? Poignant prose pricking my brain like I picked a rose. And I will rise.
Occasionally to the occasion, the momentous equation. If I wanna. Do I hafta?
Embrace it, you gotta do what you gotta do.
Thoughtless reason — treason of everything we were built to be. “I swear I’ve been framed!” You’re right, but you embraced your cell.
It’s a functioning cell, sold to the highest bidder. Perspective or purpose, you picked your poison.
The antidote? It’s in the I’s.
GOD! A theist or atheist: so be it or don’t but for. The. Love. Stop arguing. Amen.