wisefool

I bow to the greatness of what comes. It always does, continually, and I respect it’s persistence, it’s unyielding nature. I appreciate it’s continuous giving, a force so subtle that you can hardly notice it’s potency. An all-pervading electrical buzz, blurring the lines between reality and illusion, intuition and reason, matter and mind. A microscopic musical improvisation, eternally strumming and drumming, streaming and dreaming, the externalization of sub-atomic subconsciousness. Microscopic minds experiencing macroscopia. Turning thoughts inside out, doing mental laundry while dancing. Pondering my life-expectancy and my future personal triumphs/successes and whether or not they are pre-destined, willfully determined by my actions, or whether they are determined by my actions which are potentially pre-determined which only gives me the illusory perception that my choices are my own. Rigid thoughts collide sparking a mental crepitus. Future apologies accepted, forming mental images of parallel universes to attract potentialities into existence. The universe fondling itself. A oneness forming dualities for the sole purpose of creating company. The loneliness of singularity talking to it’s own shadow, allegorical cave dwelling of platonic thoughts, visionary speculations, and auditory hallucinations. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity. From dust to dust, in the middle is must. Eyelid projectors flashing vibrantly lucid colors, yellow red and green and a lasting indigo.

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Say hello to my frontal lobe.