fall asunder…then wake half baked, pondering my dreams…as meaningfully as if they occurred in my Wake

Something is changing within me. I am becoming more eager to focus and grasp towards the happy souls, and the echoes of their presence>>>

Any human who can drink a glass or three of fine spirits, smoke a J, and feel comfortable, then listen to that song, no need to understand the words, its all about the feeling…yes! yes!, for anyone who delves down that path of herbs and russian firewater, who listens to that song, and finds nothing affecting your heart or spirit, kindly get away from me…never speak to me again, for the best for both you and I…I am too far gone deep into my own abyss, and finding the real there and in others who expound only what comes from all that matters to them, to waste my life with anyone lame…they are legion.

Maybe its the enforced three day sobriety routine, which stretches well beyond alcohol, to include the greenery, the nicotine, the caffeine, leading to appallingly hard to come by fitful slumber…I awake when the Fat Lady sings on my dog and bone, feeling as if I have spent the night with my eyes wide open in the darkness, telling my hound to STOP FUCKING LICKING THE BED, whilst pondering such anger will rouse me too far beyond whatever grasp of slumber I have fathomed, or been dragged into, by the Valerian, Magnesium, Hop Tea cauldron routine…then finally…I fall asunder…then wake half baked, pondering my dreams…as meaningfully as if they occurred in my Wake. aNd then I tread sad steps, which lead to a Woman who has given her all, dived into what seemed Love, and emerged…agonised>>>

This makes me cry.

For I not just relate, I feel her woe become me of giving Everything and finding in turn something broken and hurt and wailing deep within.

I want everyone who loves…to love each other.

my ego butts in…with its weasel unicorn horns, and adds…I dont want anyone to know my cunning well dressed with sincere fondness…I only find myself engaging those rancid yet sometimes valuable assets, when I am between two souls I am fond of, who I feel are deep down, fond of each other, and my cunning is engaged, soul-ly and solely, through effort to bring them closer, dispense with the fluff, and focus upon what matters most..which is always FEELING. Nothing has ever mattered more.

After so much loveliness, as open to savage perception as it very much remains, I must move to other matters of reckoning of my own kin by shape, if not solely species.

I would like to help people,

yet I am deep enough to realise my shallows.

And prefer to focus upon the Old Skool Townie Pixie mantra>>>

I was speaking my spastic russian to a russian motherly comrade today – she endures and is fond of me as I am fond of her in turn – chatting also to a ‘nevermind you will never know you could be special’ fiendess, who has a hint of pixie sparkling now and then upon her outline, and during this in between motherly and unwitting pixie, appeared the elf, briefly…as if floating by…the energy was planets aligning…neptune, mars, venus…some new glare of the astral wilderness adorning susceptible and open parts of me. Solar SUNlight dawning upon me before all else of humanity, all else of creatures great and small…that sublime and fundamental deliverance from dark to light, in the afternoon, was inspired in my innards by the wilderness…to something precious in me which matters enough to feel something I must consider as beyond the norm, for it was briefly Right and True and gorgeously Real.

She floats because she is not real, anywhere beyond my own mangled, yet earnest figment of a lunatic elf eagerness…

I am a dreamer.

 

 

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