Ineffective.
Lost. Sinking. Stagnant. Stupid. Bad. Liar. Forgetting. Forgotten. Lost. Unimportant. Fake. Weak. Torn. Confused. Fragile. Shameful. Shameful. Guilty. Bad. Guilty. Guilty. Shameful. Guilty Guilty. Shameful. Shameful. Sad. Sad. Sad. Sad. Sad. Shameful. Sad. Sad. Sad. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Gentle. Sad. Gentle. Gentle. Gentle. Sad. Gentle. Gentle. Forgiving. Gentle. Steady. Forgiving. Forgiven. Still.
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Cool and not cold,
damp and not raining, late and not over yet, quiet and not silent, a quivering stream of far away tunes from a far away land sing me back awake. From limited to limitless,
one way to every way, the opening left me gripping the edges of the floors like I had something to lose. Silly me. I'll tie a string to my wrist
to remember this. Follow instincts or patterns, or feelings or shoulds. Do what you can. Leap. Or pause. Wait. The dawn only comes when no one is watching. The return is the point
of growth. To re-know, re-let go, is to breathe life upon oneself, in ceaseless, gentle sighs. "Other people are excited, as though they were at a parade.
I alone don’t care, I alone am expressionless, like an infant before it can smile. Other people have what they need; I alone possess nothing. I alone drift about, like someone without a home. I am like an idiot, my mind is so empty." — Lao Tzu A thousand doves to mark the empties,
you know the kind-vile, burning, white. Make haste you seething, sucking waste spaces. Be gone. Intangible, unimaginable,
a settling back into the formless, vastness, limitless possibilities. The breathing goes beyond the individual body, to a greater pulse, a cycle of energy. I breathe. I watch. I am. |
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January 2018
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