Ode to the turnlings and how they typically turn.
Stealing your sparkle and unwilling to share their’s. they bring up the past and they love splitting hairs
They take your torment to make themselves terrific. They Take your bliss to make them selves horrific.
They prefer to always be on top, and rarely adjacent. Any thing juxt opposed would just need a replacement.
It comes to them while it should be coming to you. If the light were on you it would just never do.
Ode to the turnlings and how they Drain! Take your tragedy and drink your shame,
the hardest things, Master Time, Eye dread you. When I think of syndication I shudder. Too much blood not enough skin. This is the deepest holy hole I’ve been in.
In the deepest part off the island in the deepest part of the seas. Sunken swimming with a bullion of golden retrievers.
I get scared sometimes. I’ve never been very far, on the earth or the world, or the planet, or globe. I’ve never flown in soul, or by plane, or by fluke, but I’ve been light years and places the universe round.
Are there any humans out there??? I know for sure they are not in the air. And radio waves reduced down to am.
Are there any humans out there?
Dr.Timothy Leary’s 8 Levels of Circuitry is a great tool to use to gage what circuit (dimension) you can access and/are on.
what if we are all little lucifers that fell from heaven like little spears of destiny? Aiming at the target that is marked with an x. Trying to hit as close as we can to the “bulls”eye. Plotting the points of our path like we are writing the plot of a screen play called our lives?
What I told you it was a game. What if I told you it was a gamble? Would you dismiss my words like you dismissed your paradise? A pair of dice you were rolling. you won’t even remember from where or why you came to where or why you’re going.
I’ll tell you right now. you were an Angel that fell. Some say you do this like falling in love. It Could be just falling in line. But what to do when all your lines are fine, and you have crossed them all. At the cross roads where you were christ crossed.
And I can’t tell you now if your able to go back up. They say you have a direct bluetooth line to the pit. Should you snip it? Should you cut it? Or do you leave it wide open and flood it. Flood it with light, flood it with love, with information from above. That’s where you forgot you started this from.
When my mom dies I’ll be terrified.
I’ll be left alone ungrown. I never did figure out how to raise from a child.
I never grew up, only out. And I’ll always still be turning out.
She will not be there, I’m the middle. They have cut my hair. The invisible pillow for Justin Case-man. What if i need a bail out?
When my mom dies how will I live? I only learned the take. Never giving much thought about the make. I worked at throwing away the opportunities she gave. And I I better tell her about it these days before she hits the grave.
When my mom dies I’ll be terrified. L
I remember the night you came with your cold blue burning ember of truths. Dripping with circles completed in eytomoligies.
I can’t tell how I got you. I can’t tell how to get you back.
They erased the knowledge you gave me with that bitter sweet down load that night.
I want it back. Bring it back. Bring me back those times. That time I’ve spent, those times I’ve wasted. Give me something to save.
I’ve got a feeling that your in my ceiling. Giving me chills when I think your name. That name a gave you when I met you. Sootie, Sootie, Sootie… Please come and sooth me.
Why does it seem, to enter your thought stream, I have to be wide open?
And the connection will grow longer if I make that frequency grow stronger. But they moon must be wide open.
And it seems that reason for all my breaking, is to be put through the fire. To be perfectly refined. It had to do with the state of my mind. It must be wide open
It has to be wide open.