Chomping by the willow tree in the foothills of Mt. Delicious. Furious flying fish fighting for fantastic fishy fantasy. Grizzly bear teeth bore through the castle wall, and farewell king. Monkey minds ebb and flow like nodes in symphony.
Oh good, I was was worried you wouldn't come out all this way for something so...well I suppose I should just come out and say it. It is...wait...forgive me but at this moment it escapes me. Perhaps if I relax my mind it will surface - just as the sun will in a few short hours. The sun might win. I must concentrate. No I must not concentrate because this task does not call for force. I am required to do something which will be acceptable only if it is done so as if it wasn't required. I refuse to be the hare to the sun's turtle! Petty duelings with nature. It is on the tip of my tongue I tell you. Embarrassing. I am terribly sorry but...aha!
Doing speaks to the voices of doubt, Speaking is a round-about, Knowing is not for tongue nor mouth, It appears when all is taken out.
Trustworthy Truthful Transparrent Not a medicine Not a doctor Notwithstanding, it is both medicinal and prescribed
Step step A waddling pixel Zero one Dimensional fabric Hands make ripples Over the hills A digital quack From far away
I dream, plot, and wish many things. I enjoy each of these activities equally. Yet lately this is less so. Like rubber without road, I am Peter Pan. I mean we all like to dine on our most desired. I laugh as delight turns slowly into disgust. I wonder if it is serious. Or is it playful? I will continue to dream, for dreams are seeds. I am a seed.
blues and jazz in the garden prawns are finally as delicious as they are cheap only the air is fresher opportunity is for my belly crying out for my spotlight in this atmosphere anything has promise strung out from a long week of undefined achievements aim with me to always be winning but never to win today I have nourishment constantly opposites united
Widely revered and so worthy of time, Greetings are boats; so subject to design, My boat is afloat with other afloat boats, On a sea of exchange from gestures to jokes, Sailors don't care who sails the most, The joy of sailing is the goal, Sincerely, Your host
The highs are bright The lows are dark Waiting for strength Too cold for spark My senses overrun No information discerned Loneliness creeping in All else preferred
the land of perfection looks perfect from afar low resolution view light or star stale and mate dried clay books in balance before you play