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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Sunday, May 24, 2015


Hold that thought
Rest your breath

Free at last
Visions drained
Noises walled in
Forces unbalanced

Fall back into waves, cushions
Of dreams unsown and strewn
Let your mind drag you down whirlpools
And into the vacuum of space
That’s made of nothing but colors and tastes

Ease into a world of no density
Look around but don’t lose your bearings
Sleep a while but don’t worry
Here you'll never miss a thing
Let the accumulation of moments begin
We can live them later
Experience instant gratification
Suspend all animation
Float into the crevices of your consciousness
Turn away from everything else

Meet your Self


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