It's becoming more difficult to explain myself with words. The proper adjective, or the word best to describe how I feel alludes me. Currently I have woken up from a nights sleep and I feel something, although not tearing me, longs to be expressed.
So strange when I spend time to open myself up to things further to see what I really am. What I consist of beyond thought, an ever unfolding space or lightness. But still I feel so strange like I'm losing something like there is something for me to do that I already know, It's only a matter of devoting my time and finding what to spend it on. And indeed time is an opportunity to work, to spend in an activity and to quicken my functioning to that activity.
Is any of this sincere? The pace of which I write only skims the service while a slower writing would plunge the depths. I've concluded we are not individual, we do not have a set of quality but rather contain all within ourselves, every potential, everything perceived or sought after. All the dissapointments, the history of humanity. This is such an immense find and it signifies so much. What is the roll of someone who understands this fact. It seems unearthly, yet there is no longer anyone to explain, there is no other. I could use some direction. Wrapping myself up in writing as an excuse for prolonged instinct.
Space heightens, the ceiling of thought is distraught and folds into infinity
Chakras spin and throw off the dust of centuries
The habitual ways go south and an incredible speed is revealed
A speed that cannot be liven up too, increasingly glorious
Relationships to the world are vague and strange
Distant but never denied all together
What does it mean to open to these shifting skies
To die in the moment, to love like a golden axim
At the same time action is an apple seed lodged between mystery and understanding
Far beyond a given system felt as an extreme in a simple action
Channel this intuit poetry, find the gem, expressith
No longer can I hide I must resume activity
No longer can I type I must depart for "work"
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