Plethora
"I've been waiting ... I've been waiting for this moment all my life ... But it's not right ....
remove And this real ... It's impossible if possible at who's blind ... so clear But word so unheard
... I've been waiting ... I've been waiting for this silence all night long ... It's just a matter of time ... "
The floor is cold and down my back from my bare foot to the neck without clothes. I step slow, wearied pace that leaves the swing of words in my head. For hours listening to and so many voices.
The light wind knocks my window, running down the room and wraps; I can feel every inch of my body sleepy.
begin the questioning of the voices in his ear what to do in life? Where am I going? What did I do wrong? When did it happen? What did I do to repay this karma? How much longer will continue wasting my time? At what point reaches stability? Why do I feel this way? ... Thousands of voices asexual, waiting for a chance to be satiated.
Before leaving this evening to become one more, I fade away in bed. My body agrees to be part of your heat analgesic and attach to remind you, even if you're not here.
Answers do not matter. The path fades and we see an ethereal and free widget to change. The errors are just significant remains: take flight, crashing through the walls, with significant simple to get here today. Stability mediocre start to stand by their lack of respect. The time is cyclical and how light silhouettes on the walls, making a spectacle of unbridled and totally chaotic harmony.
Past actions are what make this diluted. Always dilute in new laughter, a sardonic, sometimes fully complete.
just need to get up close with all and for that we are not always ready. The truth is painful, but clean throughout. You
are my plethora.
.... It's fun to recount ....
MATH.