urges yeah
up go down
fly
skate
bike
why
go
now
yeah
steal?
whatever
oh wow fingers type
yeah they do type
keep typing
why?
urges
feel the need to be a universal typewriter, typesetter, the universal secretary…
Like I want to record these experiences into a typewriter, maybe? Is that what I want to do with my existence?
I exist, I do what I like, and I like to write.I play with these words as an expression of my justifications as well, and how they play around with each other, as the underlying intention of mine knowingly twirls them around against each other, in a loving spiral of dissolution. It is, it need not be anything else, and it is. Keep being.
Cats smashed against the three-dimensional membrane of this humongous, gingantic, gynormous, consciousness fluid that envelops us, is us, enlightens us, pushes us, twirls us, pulls us, brings us into consciousness and dissolution as well.
Cats smashed? Is that we feel like?
Maybe. Liek cats who were given the driver’s seat. “Here you go”, I imagine the fluid telling them (themselves telling themselves), and then they had this little capsule through which they saw and moved through the world, and they had to be driving, driving, always driving. At the beginning as well, all the reactions in the membrane are so vivid! And they are right there, obvious, staring in the face, that’s where the pressure mounts, and the forms express. In the boundary between the consciousness, of the “what is”, and the potential, the “what isn’t yet”, as the massively, ultra-richly, astoundingly diverse ocean of colors and emotions and patterns and vortices between the emotional, the mental, the physical, and the… “spiritual”? The spiritual seems so much just like… simply.. .everything! What else is there? It’s just that. The consciousness and the form. And it expands, it grows, it grows….. towards… more growth :) And more forms and more patterns.
And that’s a large point. Birth… you’re a kid til… you learn to talk by yourself… you learn to walk by yourself… you can feed yourself? You don’t need your parents emotional support anymore? Why do you feel the need to define it? To matter? If you’re a spore, just birthed from another spore that was once like you, and you are given the sparkling seed and gift of true intention to shape your flows as you most wish. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…..
urges? Waves of attraction. Fears? Waves of repulsion. The same pattern emerges in any case, either on the positive or the negative, they both GENERATE the pattern because you WILL it! Either on the positive or the negative. It IS! My urge for connection for Valerie… urged her own reaction of disconnection, which triggered all the memories in myself about my past love disappointments and rejections, and the patterns of how in my childhood I was not allowed to play with my older siblings because I was too young. So young, could not do anything about it, and it hurt. And it hurt after too, with my playmates from school… me younger than others, different from the others, and they would not offer out their connections out for outreach like I wanted to. And my outreach connection became shy, and it hurt whenever I reached it out again, shy, half-expecting to be rejected again, and indeed, it did, every time. And when it did not, it just felt weird and I could not feel invited into it. Why? Because my pattern was there. The fear… that.. pattern of evasion. Of the evasion of the pain of rejection. And today in the park I just felt into it and asked just “why why why??????”, and the response was hurt and tears and cries and sobs coming out from the right side of my abdomen when I massaged into it, and I cried and I cried……… and there indeed was the pattern I was avoiding all this time. Avoiding rejection.
As an aside, I had been equating solitude with loneliness with rejection. And they are SO DIFFERENT. Today while in solitude I felt so PLAINLY JOYFUL AND PLAYFULLY HAPPPY TO BE AND TO EXPERIENCE AND TO CONCEIVE OF SUCH WONDERS AS OUR UNIVERSE IS FLOWING INTO, CONSTANTLY!!!
Loneliness, instead, is the feeling that arises when there’s a want for company and there is none. Rejection is the interaction when one “capsule” or “cat” outreaches for another, and the other rejects the outreach. Just an interaction. All reactions coming from it - physical, mental, emotional, colorful, and whichever else arises, are different, and will depend upon the form on which the interaction incides.
I love having these words to play with. I’d love to have more. I’d love to express using 3D, like with TiltBrush. I love having Valerie and Stan to express with!! So… much…. love? Coolor!!!!!!!!!!! Joy!!!! PLay!!!!! POSSIBILITIEEIEIEIEIETIEISZTIISETIASIETISSAAAAAELRKKKKKKKKHJASER;AKLS;FDA;AFS;OPIEFJK VEMQTVWQ[2098M45MU3480QW3$Q@#
$%@#$%!@#%!@#%~!!!!!!
SO NO UOPIAJSEPORJAS;ELKR
FNNGWE OIWUEOPIR8OIAESR8JOIASERA
POASPEOIRPOIAW3
OJ92W3904PO0AW3R4 L;ASL’;EROP’ASE
LKASKSKSS ALKSL;KAS;ASKLDFA;LSDFKAFSDKL;
ADFLS;;ADFLS A;SLKDFK;LASDKL;ASD;KLF
NON FUCKING LINEAR!!!
2% battery. Ah… what else?
Form :) I see AllUs’ form here :) I’ll see…
Yet I feel like the typewriter.
I CAN express. I WANT to express. Something. So HERE IT IS!! and it’s awesome…….
I love being able toe xpress… expressing
in
this way
or other ways
wahtever ways
bikinggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
ovinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng
musiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiic
danccccccccccccccccccccing
ways
And… somewhat funny…
Did you also feel… in the deep part of your rmembrance….
the slight hint of deja vu upon realizing it?? :) :) :)
I lvoe you!! ;D :D :D :D :D :D D:D:Dasd;lf’kase;’ :D :D :DD :D
La forma femenina es tan rica
Por qué la atracción sexual? pienso, al ver la fotografía de Allus.
Es rica, es bonita, es…. atractiva.
Sexual?
Es sólo una dimensión de tal atracción. Puede ser un funnel principal, aunque seguramente no el único. O incluirlo. La danza sexual sensual experimental incluye a todo tdoo en lo que sea que este océano de conciencia lo permita. Y permite todo. TODO. Démonos cuenta de lo que semos, lo que tenemos, lo que sentimos, loq ue urgimos, lo que evitamos… todo eso que almacenamos en nuestros cuerpos……..
y cuando veamos todo lo que somos.
lo que hemos sido
lo que SOMOS
Permitámosnos ser TODO lo que QUERAMOS ser! :D
Cats smashed against the windshield… always looking outward, outwards, outwards, afraid something might clash, collide, hurt, injure, hurt their capsule! Because they have their capsule! And sensations are so intricately connected between them… we have this beautiful body with us - we should take care of it, right???????????
Then waht happens, and this need not be good nor bad, simply what is….
is that perception tends to remain outward-facing. And us cats are tight in fear, afraid when other smashed cats around us veer forward and veer backward around us while we’re still learning how to drive the damn thing, and then when we actually figure out this beautiful body capsule, all we know is driving our bodies while being smashed to the windshield and perceiving only the shape of the outwards. So… rushed!
So rushed.
Cats.
And the feeling that comes to me is I just want to take the cat, my own cat, the cats around me, ALL of the cats, have them look at me, SLAP ‘em, and slap them hard enough that they face back inwards into their own enormous oceanness of consciousness and well-being and possibility and multi-color and ultra-dimensional reality that is constantly pushing and pulling and twirling at the forms we see around us just as the membranes of the ever-is. The simply “being” being of the humongous, vast (infinite?) ocean, shifting the shapes around it like the waves play with the sands. Like with children building sand castles, and moats, and armies, and knights, and princesses, and then bashing them on a whim, or evolve them to their will, or have a wave wash over it with time. It is all sand. A beautiful infinite sandbox. Beautiful because we are and feel beautiful and lovely and loving and loved, and infinite because we will it. I will it. You will it. You read this? You will this. THAT we are. THAT WE AR. AHHHHHHHHH.AAAAAAAAAAALICE :D Loovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! And thank youuuuuuuuuuu… gratitude… gratitude, through my heart, to your gentle soothing, whisper-like, motherly guidance towards the love of the subtle and the invisible and the ALL that IS. That WEEEEEEEA RE. WWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE :D :D
HOW MANY BOOKS OF THIS WOULD IT TAKE? ALLLLL OF THEM!!!!! AND IT WOULD NOT MAKE THE SINGLEST FUTILEST PRICKING BIT OF DIFFERENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
And may this be the inscription that I hope might guide me, you, us, that, it, ALL of this fluid to REMEMBER its own immensity of perception and consciousness, and look inwards again to see the beautiful playfulness of all that we are, and may it loosen our grip on the windshields, if we still need and want to keep the forms of the membrane :) In general… give the windshield whatever the hell the shape you want it to be and drive it like a dustbin or a Ferrari Lamborghini fucker or an eagle egret or a purple dancing unicorn from which Travolta drew inspiration. And would I give everyone the freedom to unshackle themselves from the crude fears and vulgarities of words like fuck shit cunt motherfucker twat (and go seek out George Carlin’s video for a more complete reference and discourse), and actually look into them, feel their meanings, embrace them, and realize them as simply sex, feces, female sexual orifice, a being who sexes a mother, and another term for the female sexual orifice. Such words are simply….. just such………
they cause chords and dischords and urges and discharges and pulls and pushes and twists and hunger and thirst and pain within our capsules because all of those pattern are IN US…. stored somewhere in our bodies, or in our beings, is the fear, the repulsion, the evasion! to such terms. And by embodying the repulsion to such concepts, we embody them as well, we replicate them within each other, and replicate such fears into others we come into contact with. Our patterns shapeshift and replicate into themselves… continuously! Ripples make more of themsevles…… waves as well. Frequencies replicate. Green light reflects unto green. Shapes replicate just as naturally as one could think fractals in the mathematical examples, the something-russina triangle, the something-snowflake, mitosis, waves in an ocean surface, animals, humans through sex…. it is all just replication. Twigs from branches from trunks from root from source from itself from itself from…… tempted to go into nothingness? As much as you might like, it is what is and your perceptions only changes your own experience of it. MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF IT. And that is EVERYTHING. And I notice I still have the urge to keep writing, to keep a record, to somehow prove “LOOK I ACTUALLY FREAKING FOUND THIS OUT IT IS AWESOME”, and my mind does wonder whether it reminisces of something like vanity or pride. Whatever it is or had of it matters nothing, as in the being of US ALL BEING ONE… we are all FREAKING ONE, experience is all that matters, and I do feel a want to share it, to feel it with others. FEEL IT FEEL IT FEEL IT. it is ALLLLLLLLLLLL HEREEEEEEEEEEEEE. HERE DOES NOT MEAN ANYTHING it is experience…
yyessssss ranty ranty ranty yet meaningful………
Drink it, those who thirst :) To all, keep dancing!!
up go down
fly
skate
bike
why
go
now
yeah
steal?
whatever
oh wow fingers type
yeah they do type
keep typing
why?
urges
feel the need to be a universal typewriter, typesetter, the universal secretary…
Like I want to record these experiences into a typewriter, maybe? Is that what I want to do with my existence?
I exist, I do what I like, and I like to write.I play with these words as an expression of my justifications as well, and how they play around with each other, as the underlying intention of mine knowingly twirls them around against each other, in a loving spiral of dissolution. It is, it need not be anything else, and it is. Keep being.
Cats smashed against the three-dimensional membrane of this humongous, gingantic, gynormous, consciousness fluid that envelops us, is us, enlightens us, pushes us, twirls us, pulls us, brings us into consciousness and dissolution as well.
Cats smashed? Is that we feel like?
Maybe. Liek cats who were given the driver’s seat. “Here you go”, I imagine the fluid telling them (themselves telling themselves), and then they had this little capsule through which they saw and moved through the world, and they had to be driving, driving, always driving. At the beginning as well, all the reactions in the membrane are so vivid! And they are right there, obvious, staring in the face, that’s where the pressure mounts, and the forms express. In the boundary between the consciousness, of the “what is”, and the potential, the “what isn’t yet”, as the massively, ultra-richly, astoundingly diverse ocean of colors and emotions and patterns and vortices between the emotional, the mental, the physical, and the… “spiritual”? The spiritual seems so much just like… simply.. .everything! What else is there? It’s just that. The consciousness and the form. And it expands, it grows, it grows….. towards… more growth :) And more forms and more patterns.
And that’s a large point. Birth… you’re a kid til… you learn to talk by yourself… you learn to walk by yourself… you can feed yourself? You don’t need your parents emotional support anymore? Why do you feel the need to define it? To matter? If you’re a spore, just birthed from another spore that was once like you, and you are given the sparkling seed and gift of true intention to shape your flows as you most wish. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh…..
urges? Waves of attraction. Fears? Waves of repulsion. The same pattern emerges in any case, either on the positive or the negative, they both GENERATE the pattern because you WILL it! Either on the positive or the negative. It IS! My urge for connection for Valerie… urged her own reaction of disconnection, which triggered all the memories in myself about my past love disappointments and rejections, and the patterns of how in my childhood I was not allowed to play with my older siblings because I was too young. So young, could not do anything about it, and it hurt. And it hurt after too, with my playmates from school… me younger than others, different from the others, and they would not offer out their connections out for outreach like I wanted to. And my outreach connection became shy, and it hurt whenever I reached it out again, shy, half-expecting to be rejected again, and indeed, it did, every time. And when it did not, it just felt weird and I could not feel invited into it. Why? Because my pattern was there. The fear… that.. pattern of evasion. Of the evasion of the pain of rejection. And today in the park I just felt into it and asked just “why why why??????”, and the response was hurt and tears and cries and sobs coming out from the right side of my abdomen when I massaged into it, and I cried and I cried……… and there indeed was the pattern I was avoiding all this time. Avoiding rejection.
As an aside, I had been equating solitude with loneliness with rejection. And they are SO DIFFERENT. Today while in solitude I felt so PLAINLY JOYFUL AND PLAYFULLY HAPPPY TO BE AND TO EXPERIENCE AND TO CONCEIVE OF SUCH WONDERS AS OUR UNIVERSE IS FLOWING INTO, CONSTANTLY!!!
Loneliness, instead, is the feeling that arises when there’s a want for company and there is none. Rejection is the interaction when one “capsule” or “cat” outreaches for another, and the other rejects the outreach. Just an interaction. All reactions coming from it - physical, mental, emotional, colorful, and whichever else arises, are different, and will depend upon the form on which the interaction incides.
I love having these words to play with. I’d love to have more. I’d love to express using 3D, like with TiltBrush. I love having Valerie and Stan to express with!! So… much…. love? Coolor!!!!!!!!!!! Joy!!!! PLay!!!!! POSSIBILITIEEIEIEIEIETIEISZTIISETIASIETISSAAAAAELRKKKKKKKKHJASER;AKLS;FDA;AFS;OPIEFJK VEMQTVWQ[2098M45MU3480QW3$Q@#
$%@#$%!@#%!@#%~!!!!!!
SO NO UOPIAJSEPORJAS;ELKR
FNNGWE OIWUEOPIR8OIAESR8JOIASERA
POASPEOIRPOIAW3
OJ92W3904PO0AW3R4 L;ASL’;EROP’ASE
LKASKSKSS ALKSL;KAS;ASKLDFA;LSDFKAFSDKL;
ADFLS;;ADFLS A;SLKDFK;LASDKL;ASD;KLF
NON FUCKING LINEAR!!!
2% battery. Ah… what else?
Form :) I see AllUs’ form here :) I’ll see…
Yet I feel like the typewriter.
I CAN express. I WANT to express. Something. So HERE IT IS!! and it’s awesome…….
I love being able toe xpress… expressing
in
this way
or other ways
wahtever ways
bikinggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg
ovinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng
musiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiic
danccccccccccccccccccccing
ways
And… somewhat funny…
Did you also feel… in the deep part of your rmembrance….
the slight hint of deja vu upon realizing it?? :) :) :)
I lvoe you!! ;D :D :D :D :D :D D:D:Dasd;lf’kase;’ :D :D :DD :D
La forma femenina es tan rica
Por qué la atracción sexual? pienso, al ver la fotografía de Allus.
Es rica, es bonita, es…. atractiva.
Sexual?
Es sólo una dimensión de tal atracción. Puede ser un funnel principal, aunque seguramente no el único. O incluirlo. La danza sexual sensual experimental incluye a todo tdoo en lo que sea que este océano de conciencia lo permita. Y permite todo. TODO. Démonos cuenta de lo que semos, lo que tenemos, lo que sentimos, loq ue urgimos, lo que evitamos… todo eso que almacenamos en nuestros cuerpos……..
y cuando veamos todo lo que somos.
lo que hemos sido
lo que SOMOS
Permitámosnos ser TODO lo que QUERAMOS ser! :D
Cats smashed against the windshield… always looking outward, outwards, outwards, afraid something might clash, collide, hurt, injure, hurt their capsule! Because they have their capsule! And sensations are so intricately connected between them… we have this beautiful body with us - we should take care of it, right???????????
Then waht happens, and this need not be good nor bad, simply what is….
is that perception tends to remain outward-facing. And us cats are tight in fear, afraid when other smashed cats around us veer forward and veer backward around us while we’re still learning how to drive the damn thing, and then when we actually figure out this beautiful body capsule, all we know is driving our bodies while being smashed to the windshield and perceiving only the shape of the outwards. So… rushed!
So rushed.
Cats.
And the feeling that comes to me is I just want to take the cat, my own cat, the cats around me, ALL of the cats, have them look at me, SLAP ‘em, and slap them hard enough that they face back inwards into their own enormous oceanness of consciousness and well-being and possibility and multi-color and ultra-dimensional reality that is constantly pushing and pulling and twirling at the forms we see around us just as the membranes of the ever-is. The simply “being” being of the humongous, vast (infinite?) ocean, shifting the shapes around it like the waves play with the sands. Like with children building sand castles, and moats, and armies, and knights, and princesses, and then bashing them on a whim, or evolve them to their will, or have a wave wash over it with time. It is all sand. A beautiful infinite sandbox. Beautiful because we are and feel beautiful and lovely and loving and loved, and infinite because we will it. I will it. You will it. You read this? You will this. THAT we are. THAT WE AR. AHHHHHHHHH.AAAAAAAAAAALICE :D Loovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! And thank youuuuuuuuuuu… gratitude… gratitude, through my heart, to your gentle soothing, whisper-like, motherly guidance towards the love of the subtle and the invisible and the ALL that IS. That WEEEEEEEA RE. WWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE :D :D
HOW MANY BOOKS OF THIS WOULD IT TAKE? ALLLLL OF THEM!!!!! AND IT WOULD NOT MAKE THE SINGLEST FUTILEST PRICKING BIT OF DIFFERENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
And may this be the inscription that I hope might guide me, you, us, that, it, ALL of this fluid to REMEMBER its own immensity of perception and consciousness, and look inwards again to see the beautiful playfulness of all that we are, and may it loosen our grip on the windshields, if we still need and want to keep the forms of the membrane :) In general… give the windshield whatever the hell the shape you want it to be and drive it like a dustbin or a Ferrari Lamborghini fucker or an eagle egret or a purple dancing unicorn from which Travolta drew inspiration. And would I give everyone the freedom to unshackle themselves from the crude fears and vulgarities of words like fuck shit cunt motherfucker twat (and go seek out George Carlin’s video for a more complete reference and discourse), and actually look into them, feel their meanings, embrace them, and realize them as simply sex, feces, female sexual orifice, a being who sexes a mother, and another term for the female sexual orifice. Such words are simply….. just such………
they cause chords and dischords and urges and discharges and pulls and pushes and twists and hunger and thirst and pain within our capsules because all of those pattern are IN US…. stored somewhere in our bodies, or in our beings, is the fear, the repulsion, the evasion! to such terms. And by embodying the repulsion to such concepts, we embody them as well, we replicate them within each other, and replicate such fears into others we come into contact with. Our patterns shapeshift and replicate into themselves… continuously! Ripples make more of themsevles…… waves as well. Frequencies replicate. Green light reflects unto green. Shapes replicate just as naturally as one could think fractals in the mathematical examples, the something-russina triangle, the something-snowflake, mitosis, waves in an ocean surface, animals, humans through sex…. it is all just replication. Twigs from branches from trunks from root from source from itself from itself from…… tempted to go into nothingness? As much as you might like, it is what is and your perceptions only changes your own experience of it. MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF IT. And that is EVERYTHING. And I notice I still have the urge to keep writing, to keep a record, to somehow prove “LOOK I ACTUALLY FREAKING FOUND THIS OUT IT IS AWESOME”, and my mind does wonder whether it reminisces of something like vanity or pride. Whatever it is or had of it matters nothing, as in the being of US ALL BEING ONE… we are all FREAKING ONE, experience is all that matters, and I do feel a want to share it, to feel it with others. FEEL IT FEEL IT FEEL IT. it is ALLLLLLLLLLLL HEREEEEEEEEEEEEE. HERE DOES NOT MEAN ANYTHING it is experience…
yyessssss ranty ranty ranty yet meaningful………
Drink it, those who thirst :) To all, keep dancing!!
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