good goat this is the longest winter. frozen in the polarized bloodpool- I see you? ignoring the lake trail of firey scorch and fallen vegan pride? probably not. ice heat eye pluck to the universe from you?
maybe just content. alive by the fire, all wings wakened and the new frosty breath like shining airplane swords on the crispest of blue heaven days. all black weapon underground unflinching movement toward the light, on the rainbows fires swinging and ringing bridge with a shelter of broken dimensions like shattered detritus of glass boulders. am I dreaming all of this ? is suicide a weapon disguised- I think of the tree, killing its leaves so its branches will survive the heavy snow, and the distracted distance I have taken my body and peculiar fragile sentience and I dont think I have yet believed an invented histories, but how would I know? ( I think of the passive tree, a heavy wooden knock to an unsuspecting skull, gods careless design)I keep my mouth shut these days. I never lost my leaves. heavy soul at the end of a phase, and I admire wonders everywhere, occasionaly ther is even a brakthrough, and I enjoy the ravelings and unravelings of an unrestrained mine- please be lost. just lost- lost lost lost then exactly where is right, exactly where is right, exactly where is right, exactly where is right, and on like that through infinity, past the unraveling common acid delusion of piercing white, back on phase with something familiar, new.