Friday, April 8, 2011
Imagine being born to tell the truth, imaging selling yourself short and living your life out without having a dream. Our dream separates us form the monkey's. Those of us with a dream have a heart that lets us see, that lets us stop and blow our mind with the thought that we fall on forward toward a sun, the light. A Reunion of spirit. Dreams sore, and aspire and die. Our dreams die our heart stops, its what I see. The soul is ever reaching the encounter the speech with and reflection with a deity that never responds. Souls that get lost have a dream, angles that fall have a dream, Ghost dream, Man sees. Honestly there is nothing here except our imagination, are vision further, past the sun, past the light, into our own minds. Now don't accept my words go find out for yourself. You suck, you stink, and you're gonna want things that your gonna either have to lie about, expose or be ashamed of. You're human right. Can you see why it happens, what you've done to yourself, the compromise that makes the dream, the dream we live to compromise, while our soul leaps at the chance to taste of wisdom's bosom. She's a slut that my heart can't handle, what a tragedy, what life. Fact is a fiction, I don't believe in politicians, magazine subscriptions. To meet your neighbor you gotta go door to door. Try to talk to God guys try to avoid that pain in your gut, the one you feel when you neglect yourself. Break your mind, drop it, the world.