We learn language not because it is easy but because it is difficult... I believe it was plato that once– I'm juking you.

Desire is a funny thing as it is what we communicate in feeling when we feel it that we feel it has been communicated.

Reality sets a fun aszch if seen perceptive of you, maybe that is why it is hard for even myself to enjoy the presence of others.

I like to think not brash or too hesh, not taken or given in comfort of chatter; preference is to me odg. An eveness.

An eveness of myself and what I can be happy or at least jaded to the extent of who I am to say "I hate it here, but I will try."

Walk with your head down and sometimes up, unable to tell what they say, and what you feel as thought same by those around.

Squares to bits what it felt to pain not sinde snide or sinide the body but is till my soul if I have one and the spirit if it were the way

milk first noticed tears from a fallen place. A poet writes the words he wishes were his words; listening to the vast unknown of

order and chaos to where both strife and harmony fail to gleam as should with rot sour bang if darkness can interpret a light that was darkness if the light was just to describe that even in darkness light is. Evasion, if eons fly and I never know.

There is a point to all this I almost guarantee it. Maybe it's to sit still more or stand still more... to run faster, walk faster, drink more water, maybe more focused or accurately... less... accurately? Eviseration, we are here are should figure out whether a wood or metal, a gnosis, a type of science, a belief, a guess, a sure thing to some and non existent to others– how can we do this better...

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