I have never been worried about safety in numbers
Palm fronds abscond safe conversation, pleasantly distancing lives confused by a momentary weakness. A flow of energy escapes conversation, leaving one speechless in a search of solidarity. Amazing how love can leave one without history as synapses delve into spaces yet to be filled. Vices leave me sitting still. I like that we don’t need to speak or fuck or relate to love each other. Worlds set apart by distance can be pulled closer, imagining nothing, while life takes its course. A rhyme like mélange of other psyches are dressed in a reality another can never know, and so, acquaintance seeks friendship elsewhere. I promise I can relate to any situation as I’ve rolled with the fucking and the punching of the ages. Distance can be timeless as evolution continually takes course. Forced conversation seeks like-minded thoughts. So what do you do? It’s the question of the hour. Empowerment comes from relinquishing ownership. Pages are never wasted to the thoughts of a moment. Japanese stars will be ours. Money has corrupted our artistic value in a positive light. Discomfort is reminiscent of the pulsating that erupts out of the depths where the heart holds light. I sit watching mother and child in sequence. They are developing a new speech. The love of multiple generations is extracted from the moment. To seek and find a time of happiness in a fleeting sun can be undone by nothing. Circumstance is set into motion by salted nuts and small pants crab walking backwards into memories of innocence. We are constantly creating a second of realness.