Fresh out the plane to blame me high as a kite premeditated greatness now living the life of a lost king looking to seat on his throne, nothing ever happens to people that worry about the rules but don’t take the risk to actively pursue their life’s dreams. The worst feeling in the world is that of rejection to feel like you can never be enough or good enough for a person that does not see and value all that you put in.
Thrillers with gorillas the hazardous world of ninjas of the night seeking the thrill of the world around them the mighty seem so few but remove the mirror and realize that it was just you shearing at your own image. From across the wall I see hanging memories of what I expect life to be, conceptual but blurred as the only image I see is off lost birds flying all around loping from cloud to cloud, ramblings none stop word after word picture after Painting trying to capture the right moment the best time to say I do to receive and relive life but you have spent too much time pondering over all of this and spent no time at all making any of the a reality But this in its self is another canvas another story yet to be told, created off the extractions we presently have.
I spend a lot of time joggling bullets defending myself from the views of men and all that we find and hold onto. The days of old are still young, they are nonexistent as we conceive in our minds a future that must first be present. Words words words made of one words with no visions on life or version of lies to tell to hold the hostility .The marked are doomed but the castaway must come together and survive