u/FeroHoc

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There are sometimes smile aches that blend so much beautiful inherent with just enough weaknesses of living, that the smiles become uncomfortable, in the midst of enjoyments, the joy's attended discomfort, and we no longer want the expressions. As if this world hasn't refined the ability to grant singularities existence. And within every moment, inlays so many layers of, that we almost never find one anything, in any instance. All is myriad. quantum facets in a now, redefine perception with every peering out, looking in to this world under this alterations law feels like everything is relative, all is subjective. And it's never never at all, there's no always, no only, and it's never hard to pin down only opinion, only one outcome, or dream. We adorn ourselves in such emperor's logic cloths and stitch them into an onto and it seems, what it could be, and what is, is it ever near, or close at all? These can fares of often and habitual, the conversational costs, how have we allocated our wealths of self, and soul, our hearts to afford our transactions opening the till internalized, turning around the open or closed signs flipped over the moments to facilitate the cognitive dissonance utilized. It is such an unusual odd that humanizes regularly. Ushering the influences of the present into the same built up wait times filing into the same old categorized mind frames. And in these portraits go the day, the now captured , surrounded and we besiege ourselves before the lines of interwoven can find their place, between. In such depths of pinnacle we isolate and connect. Human being where have you that none else may arrive, or already reside? Unity is not a word, life is not a 2 dimensional monosurreal. It is in the variety a bloom, In flight, within the molecular all things. spied under magnification there is more, never less. I hope collectively we will grow, and manifest alive in all it's possibilities, all it's beauties pleading to be released, realized. Allowed life, and the liberties to breathe. We need all our times together, none of our crimes against redeem our promises failed, without ever having reached the ear, before a chance to roll off the tongue, the music of life is expelled. Within this roaring of all, there is silence deafening. Within all our ceaseless moving, there remains such still, life. Long may it everything. united and multiplied, breathing us quantified. May it outlast our lives, an we survive our selves.

Why is it the words tumble across the lines in response unneeded, unadvised. But in the blank slated origins of independently framed the picture almost vanishes. The lens unfocuses, and the shot taken, is it really at all? Thumb tacks that assemble the haphazardly snaps as if intention held sways, an forth held I in the same. Often I wander the hallways left earmarked an compartmentalized testimonials of approximate that weren't exactly that but are in themselves contained. It's a strange nomenclature used, to feel warranted, searching thru the desk of conscious drawer by drawer, flipping the rolodex of currently, stapling the moment like a cover sheet xerox copy of original promissory statements. In this passionate advent thumb printed, an soulful, howevers and whatever's emoted lilt and cadencial. In a canto of you knowing attempts to let you, insuring you will, there's so much didn't displayed, such relevance unintentional. It's as if the purpose and the refusal displace like mirror reflections and for every sentence ended periodly, there's a query insinuate, inserting into the flow and life blood printed, like a stint of factual, italicized, in parentheses or small types below. And if it hadn't the appeal of it all included therein, itd seem a fools endeavor sharing at all. It has never been tho. Not in the house it's hanging and penciled in, of open door soul windows blinking like turn signals forgotten. These have all addendumed beautifully, turning out splendidly as any turning to another tends to, such as you, and if I remember myself, I'll identify you too, or a chance of that, as to that I leave it under these last summaries of thank you English colloquial intimates, were it not for, I'd wander not only aimlessly but without the assurances of and the doubts to. Without the withs of inks smudge and screen cursor, it'd be almost like a little walk had nothing but to seem longer, and I and you so much farther from here, and in this picture like we happened into regardless uttered or sighed read or left ununpacked. Spellbound by the facets all I've, and you're, alive and adamantly so. A toast reader, to your eyes. May they always find what they're looking for.

Prose by Savant Maniacal