Foot to the floor, the gear is neutralized.

Steadfast by morals and beliefs, burnished by virtue, blossoming with time. What can I quilt from the patches I collect? 

Abandon the path, reroute and relearn. Intellect is the medium that willpower travels through.

Running from moment to moment, I lost awareness of the instant. Art is making those moments last forever; ensuring they’re not lost in the speed and rush of everyday life.

Keen awareness and heightened senses. Hold on, and don’t let them take your soul.

There’s a loss of sacredness leading daily life to feel dull and useless. An epidemic of sameness.

There are very few unknowns. What happens when everything is found out about the world? If there’s no longer a “lost”? How does that imbalance show up? What does a society look like that’s perfectly specialized? That’s categorized down to insanity? 

It is so much easier to speak from experience rather than about hypotheticals. Experience comes from tried and true experiments, hypotheticals just forecast possibilities.

Water is very temperamental. The more emotional, the rockier. It’s about mastering the waves.

Is there an element within myself, a level of depth of intimacy, that even I don’t want to know? 

Solid in confidence from lack of self-compromise. It seems you have forgotten how strong I truly am. 

Pondering the contents of the depths below. Demons aren’t always so scary.

Enter the door, it may not reopen. Breathe. Cosmic karma. 

Resurgence of curiosity is the catalyst for revolution.

Please be patient while I learn how to translate my feelings. There are so many, so new, so strong. I don’t understand most of what’s going on inside. The information is too unknown for me to talk about directly. Metaphors are the best I have to describe the particulars. 

Absence is sometimes the best spotlight; it holds space for the light shine. Silence allows for frequency and amplitude.

Take and take, but one day Life’s going to want reciprocity. Will you be ready to give?

Mirrors see you for all you are, we see mirrors for all we wish to see. Objection always wins, so who really understands who? It’s amusing to watch, and intriguing to study.

What odd little things we love.

A muse has depths to discover while an artist has impulses to lose themself in. It’s a dance of madness upon the parallel.

Understanding the connecting force reveals the melody. With mercurial tendencies, it’s slick and shifts, slips, but never sticks. Cursively elusive and colorfully enigmatic. 

Glistening and strumming with fluttering brilliance. But it slips on as waves recede from shore.

Got hit with a wind I’ve never felt before, now I’m questioning if the ground I’m standing on is good and sound. Have I been too naive? 

Despondent to hide the anger, passive to hide the bitterness.

Lord have mercy. I can’t make it into heaven without you.