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Does anyone perceive the crazy shit I see? ...Patterns consuming our sense of reality, digesting our differences, revealing similarities. The signs are all around, abound upon spirals spinning 'round, down, "dizzy, wow", grounding the body leaving senses reeling, peeling a beauty queen's perfect complexion clearly of her being, from her glistening tiara to her 'purty' painted piggys. And, sadly, it seems though such a tragedy is precisely the necessity to pry apart her skin, to peel agape flaps of flesh, to expose 200/20 vision from within. Wearin' ego 'round the ankles, the initiative has begun, trippin' on her epidermis, it becomes apparent that we're all one, and as so, far more beautiful than a single facet reflecting in the sun. So now she sees beyond mundane, and now she'll never be the same, 'cause now she's learned how to see using an eye consisting solely of swirling energy.

Picking up the pace, perceptions flood her mind, filling full her empty head, she stares unto the sky. The vortex twirls her 'round and 'round, it lifts her right up off the ground, and as she begins her transformation, she transcends of this creation. Gloriously gleaming and inner light revealing, though once a facet, now a jewel. Contributing instead of competing, she joins the others and leaves the fools. Together, forever, they ascend unto the kingdom ever high. Together, Heather and the other's illuminate the glisten in God's third eye. On her way to outer space, I suppose one could say, in the cosmos, she's ahead in the human race. So now she's a thinker, a dreamer, a conceiver, perceiving perceptions as they spiral in as little specks. The vortex is a vacuum, ever hungry to consume, filling her mind with deposits of dark matter formed of light. And into the night, Heather, our beauty, sails gracefully as a kite adrift on the winds of change, gasps of breath uttered from the cosmic esophagus. Now if she's a head, who's the neck? Well, that part is left to the rest of us.