I hear a song of drizzle patter across the landscape in my mind. The space behind my eyes blooms into circular shadows and slashes of sepia. I exhale the universe and grasp at the ring of the void.
It's slippery. Nothingness is not easily unified within myself.
I gently brush away nonsense and let breeze wash my thoughts into dust. I attempt to try without striving.
In the void is virtue. Wisdom has existence. Spirit is nothingness.
10:03 p.m. - 2015-07-15
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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