nonsense thursday…

i’m battling myself.  but not really.  ohm mani padmi ohm.  every thought needs innovation.  stop trying to get me to leave my body for some eternal place.  the eternal place is not that great.  you don’t get to eat food or have sex or be a person.  even the light bodied immortals feel a longing to be more….to be us.  human.  we are the prize, the golden globe, the yumminess.  i am sinking deep into being human.  it’s brand new.  i am being taught so much right now.  it’s like a deluge.  forward fold.  maybe i need to hold a gun or put my foot down because i’ve been a doormat for too long.  plank pose.  a placid lake you’ve been pissing and shitting in, man.  warrior, too.  what?  you afraid to look at this?  need it to be all pink bunnies and sunshine?  at the same exact time, it is.  nothing is wrong.  love is an amber on the middle finger.  it’s something you’ve never felt before.  you’re unsure how to detect it.  what if you saw a flying saucer right now in the sky?  what would you do?  or feel?  grape leaves and hummus.  an americano.  making her the love oil of vanilla, jasmine, jade iris, and orange.  relating.   i am still struggling with feeling unlovable.  and so are you.  we all are.  look around this place.  that soiled napkin, she’s using as a plate.  the ninety degree factory, he sat in, making your phone for twelve hours.  you, on your date, whatcha eatin?   a reduction of red wine snail eyes?   i got fire.  so much fire.  i am writing from the hips.  life is happening fast.  you wanna see if you can push away love, not because you can’t let it in, but because your trying to protect yourself from putting a glamoury over them and falling head first, and soul deep, into their world, if it aint right.  right is what?  right is free.  give us our freedom.  love is freedom.  so much is ugly though.  you are ashamed.  the gigolo knows it.  he saunters you down a dark alley way.  don’t go there with him.  don’t believe he’s looking for a gold ring?  you have bobbed for the pennies on a flooded street.  you know what it’s like to lose.  human dramas are crumbs for the pigeons.  the tower is busting apart.  you burn the past.  obsolete.  do it.  it’s being requested.  let the architect teach you. to live inside, no more.  there is not an inside that is not also, part of the outside.  living breathing force.   appearing now for a limited time.  michelle.  you can’t questions callings.  i love everybody so much.   i am darkly narcissistic sometimes.  yuck, did i even just say that?  do you even believe these words?  panthers march to the beat of the same ole same ole.  get your money and whack off to your porn.  i don’t want to point that out anymore.  i never cared much for the drugs of paradise.  the man with turquoise eyes tells me tonight, “there is a garden for you to grow in.”  we are trillium and oak trees and daffodils and every kind of life rooted to this place…