Downward spiraling, and much to be said about the endless rains
The heaven bound will be back, I have no opinion on whether better off (again?)
Because I’ve just arrived, am still coming and still searching for a way here
Infinite and humbled,
I, Bound and liberated by myself, and other
The only meaning of perfection that I can state with a straight face or,
Something close

Seed and grow
The lands are delirious, and they attempt to forget themselves, with many no-matter-if-their-uncontrolled substances
Losing our history by excusing the one thing we’ve got
And it is inevitable that the reflections have become skeletons packed away in boxes
All labeled ‘fear me not’
Is it a trick?
Meet your everyday maker or,
Raise your glasses to the good life
Most will never know, the answer to the one question they’ve been asking and answering all along

Duality – the principle that doesn’t roam and go.
Here or not
Death is something I won’t talk about
I’ve seen it too much to have an objection
Things do work out, in the end, or following it
So why am I still here, you ask? Because
Been in love. Could you recognize?
This was all for you, and all out of you
And that continues on

Published by Kevin J

I think I write to try to explain moments that I don't truly understand. That's why I have a tendency to be wordy. The closer I am to minimalism, the better off I am. I also do it to keep records of what I was thinking at certain periods of time, so some kind of footsteps are left showing me how I got here. Looking back, it seems inevitable that I am where I am now; couldn't have been anywhere else. I don't have any goals for the future, except for trying to enjoy it. I'm the opposite of most people I know; I no longer want to know what is coming up next. I just want to create the road and ride, or not create it and ride anyway.

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