Every number has a meaning. I am an
eleven ( 9 +1+9+1+9+8+1) I have devised
a language through which Universe
speaks to me in numbers,
or did the Universe devise the
mathematics? Who/what comes first is
a truthless way to ask. --There are no
poles here,
no bipoles, no messages on the radio.
Every color has a meaning-- it is
either good or bad or untrustworthy
Imagine a sky of another color-- a
green sky, clear weather
is, can you imagine how the grass would
feel plating
such a sky green sky? Blue is more
the color my soul always has been.
The way a dog can seem like a deer is
the way I can feel like
a tree that knows the hammock beneath it is now my
writing place. I am
making myself into a pedestal where
things that sparkle
honey or blood may be stacked.
It is time to leave World 1 and 2
behind. World 3 has begun I am equipped
with guards-- in fact 3 armies wont let
you through
w/o the encrypted p*ss*o*d after which
you think you're in, but it's a phis sad
to keep the real world safe.
I am growing cabbage. I am less afraid.
I am less everything.
It has everything to do with my cycle
and what I dreamed/ran from. I already
know
because of what's happened that every
thing/body
is a springboard into God the same.
My colors may clash today but that's
okay.
I'll keep waving at planes.
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