By tdf, March 14, 2023

I am too self aware to ever offer haughty pretension absent of half hearted self deprecation,

I admire men who give themselves so totally to a Woman that when they leave him,

the sky has fallen upon him,

only rage and pain can abound,

as he tries to draw back what he felt was his blood and tears and fears and hopes and dreams,

grasp once again everything of the universe he found in her embrace…

realises he cannot,

they have gone,

they have been given and cannot become part of him again

only as part of what he gave her.

a large piece of his finite heart still beating now eternal dead…

I admire those lost souls,

who will never again find those beautiful parts of themselves,

only echoes in the storm….

A gorgeous woman with a curious twist>>>

Dreams more than wake draw not joy but rich, vivid experience.

when my eyes wide open all the chatter is less nourishing, inspring,

than the moon in full bloom.


For Right, Wrong, anything in between.


if you could see my dreams, you would think ne a lunatic.

much of it is written in a book by my bed.

mad rambling reports from then vivid remaning threatened to fragment by the sunlight.\


I no longer find any value in whatever zeal I can express in words,

to share with humans.

I yearn solely to write for and of the wind and tides and blizzards and hail.

Humanity needs a total reset.

The claws on the control panels are too firm and protected for anythng but an inside job.

No writing can change how condtioned the many have become.




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