Syncopath idiosyncrotic kneeling at the beach. Watching memories fade away. Least of all to expect. You to be here like the rest. Intimate cohersion. Ludacris sensation, Milistic nihilistic dilistic. Forward march.
paranormal fixation medication meddling forgotten formulaic synchronicity. seeing words in everything. seeing worlds in everything. letting myself go there because its my world to see. my life to live. my abstraction to complete. its all a possibility. and yours is beautiful even if it isnt neat. a couple things can spare your streak. whatever that means. formulaic and wondering weak. whatever that means. wandering forgotten nonsense lost in fashion found is tension leaning lessons finding blessings second guessing my own incessant guessing. first blows through and then its not a joke anymore its real life its a factor its a mediator in the game the ran out horses dashing and fired and wrong and beguiled.
Sometimes you need to go pensive hermit mode, teetering on psychosis, in like the chillest way possible. And you see the vitality exerted into suffering.
after All, every town becomes abandoned , a ghost, a husk of it's lifetime preserved in the chemicals Of light appearing on our Dark reflection. Isn't it horrifying ? fleeting Alike to the river Unrelenting upon the dirt Washing away every misconception of Life in the soil. We will become but ghosts and relics of a time of hope. our Lives predict the future ! O Boy.
