there are other worlds

What is one anyway? Is a world a word? What kind of going will this be. That is a star of being that’s unfolding. That is inside outside. Any world dimension is an outside flowing in. Way.

There are worlds outside but you only know them when you are connecting sensing feeling them inside and you feel them inside as them being outside flowing in as you are flowing out with your being into them. Star.

Is there a chronology?

Is it being made to be it later afterwards? Is it an investment? Every answer is a yes and no depending. Is it really, should be asking then when is it. When is it a chronology. Or to put it plainly, when it is a chronology then what. Where is how is anybody being with it making it the way they are. We are making it the way it is, even when it’s made by someone else.

There are many layers.

Are there layers. Are they layers. When there are layers there is something somewhere else. It can be a mystery. Someone can be when they are. And they have a place to go to. And they can invite someone.

It is all air as if it’s going somewhere. It is all as if there is a building. Going on. Somebody likes structure. Making it be as it is supposed to be. When you follow it. There is making.

If you are a girl. If you are a boy. There will be relationships and that certainly is one going there already. There is going to be going to be there. There is something about what it means. When it is a city. When it is a house. When it is a home. When it is a loneliness to know. When to know is known and being and it’s sometimes being over there. That is a relationship. There is saying and it’s calling and that’s telling. Everyone is anyone again. In the plaza. Then they ring the bell for difference.

Again.

There is shouting in the square. If you do not listen the right way it is dada poetry.

Stop stopping without levity for now. When there is suggesting. When there is direction. When somebody’s telling you and yelling isn’t any fun right now. When you feel the air and the sound of clouds painting the sky blue and the sun comes through and the smell of everything that’s blooming and a song comes on the radio you like and you sing along softly and it’s warm enough for bare feet but it’s cool enough for jackets. Then you don’t mind when you fall asleep reading.