My children are none, my parents are none, I’ve seen nothing done and I am no fan of thrusting, but what can I do? Been born? I was! The circle, it goes through my veins and blood’s flowing too. No outside, no fool, but harmful as I want to stay and be cool and calm and make no harm to my self. Sometimes, sometimes the outside is a new inside, but just when it turns and that is relief. I believe.
Who’s fourty is old, who’s thirty is old, who’s thirsty searches for anything, gold, might find it (no like it), goes faster then upwards or downwards but forgets beholding the child who just grow, become his shadow without being told. To stop, just go watch the crow, you see? No?
Please? Go sometimes out, hit door and hit air, fresh air is about the flair of knowing some new. Angle (of the view).
When sun goes to town, sun rises to shine, sun’s just the relief of dying’s last whine. We suffer our pain no matter how high sun goes, higher and higher we made our own sky. Don’t be so distressed and talk to yourself - because your own self is the only shelf which contains the truth, and thousands of spoilt and fancy and rude and neverending ending ends.
Be the one. Never the two of us. The oldest source, the first, the compromise. What’s never done is never seen, the more the keen, the less no baby newborn, firstborn, when she’s seventeen. She might look left, right, no inside and accidently parasite is one of thousand multiplied / the sperm? No, just the light (reached the mirror and is disorganized). Frightened to be? Now she has to be.
Poisonous mind be curious. Find the key, not to blind. Waiting honey grow, honey. Treasure in the feather, the creature runs too fast. Rusty scissors glow, do it? De fougere! Compromising, has to run through the stream. The creek. Lost it, the creepy division. Twins found, cleared the vision.
Could you please? If only I could. Stones and bricks and white milk. Black balls and the green. So shy. When the mist covers them, they still exist. You know I would. Between the trees, in the mist. Hungry, but no tease, the mist licks brick walls unseen. Feel the meadows in your feet and feed your child. Milk, no, inner silk. Could you?
Delicate, oh so steel. Never blind and sometimes ugly they feel. If you walk around them, they peel and petal leafs fall. So you can experience the brick wall in your heart. Sometimes. Can you? Yes you can. The flowers grow the same as you. Full moon and you are free. Never exchange, never buy, more or less you are on the ground. Or under the pillow, on the ground. Under the clouds and the moon.
Or ever done or ever seen. Some of the words are so intimate, they never can be. Just press the key and find the way. Have you ever touch the green? Or touch the words unseen? I have always been so curious but no one ever let me. If you can tell, dont hesitate to comment. I dont steal, I just inspire. And inspire. Here you can experience. As you are used to.
This is the new, it’s visual, the concept done, the focus one can never get to be forgotten or to forget. Inspire around the corner, income shows here what you can read and watch and listen and book open for all shows.
