Its been a sunny day but the flower is dead.
Maybe its because we live in a rational world, not that of color.
These men have all fought from remaining men, for keeping their masculinity. The are heroes of their own making, as the image rules.
This mirror of a reflective practice that turn you into your own Oedipus complex.
I am hoping to return to myself sometime. I have been in digression for some time now.
I am missing the care, the preciseness of the line. I indulge in detail, like all men do, easily becoming obsessive...Those men to admire, in their curves remains the truth. Main places of lust, main places of (dis)trust. But tbh there is no need for complexity, since the world is a you want it to be; I suggest a moaning pain. Trust is overrated.
It is complicated to convey to my bot audience what I feel since their thinking is digital: 01010100001010101111010101010101000010101010010101011 there you go, hopefully some pleasure for you, dear bot.
To think that to communicate is to shout to the void is desolating, as it is isolating in this modern world.
Issues that could ever be amended, as they exist as much as we believe.Maybe is time for a Lobotomy. The harm lays within, a fissure is not a sign but a state; a warrior state. The Nation doesn't exist full stop
I have been reading for all this stream of consciousness but it is conscious all that we write no to be what it means but what we like. Where a liking practice begins with the gut; have a guttural life. I have been hoping to pursue that of the dream, which is not mental or physical but subconscious. Unconscious
Conscious; who knows, is not rationality who will provide an answer, Sapere aude! Maybe an successful anti-enlightenment phrase that fucking work by buying into the game, literally. Well you know what there is not adversary to? I rather create my personal micro-revolution dare to feel!Lets make some intuitive leaps together, those that lead to selffulfillment.
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