My current feeling is good and bad Very rarely feeling sad My position is ultimately in resolution Free from negativity and confusion I am free and creativity Flows from my frontal lobes Like the wine found within this globe But I don't feel completed And not at all relaxed and conceded How does one attain this level Like a parched and convoluted fellow Now I ramble and stumble Until the feeling is just a little comfortable A rare feeling of instability Escapes my thoughts Like the truly defeated Oh how I wish not to be COMPLETED

Walking alone in a leaderless ancient world, Being told who is my foe, Expected to be celibate and remain intelligent, Meanwhile, I have to ignore my heart, That’s the most difficult part, Loves from the past, are the hardest and never last, I don’t like my pretentious heart

To disappear or to suddenly appear Is the ability I'd like to acquire Similarly the act of starting a desire fire Alone on the surface Busy on the inside Everything in comparison Is an illusion or an embarrassment Until now, I've been pleasantly undenied Continuing to exist on a contentious bridge With the idea that desire is something that is obscenely viewed A semblance with everlasting exhausting fumes Fumes that will inflict continuous pain To an already hedonistic of frames The disappearing act is a plan, not an attack A plan to redefine, to ultimately exist and not shine Shine as it was intended To be blessed by the unoffended

We will only offer you protection But only if you're from a certain section We will offer you security But only if you comply unconditionally There's something free to attain by listening There's nothing here that you'll gain by ignorance There is only one reason for our initial existence It's to generate an entity, by which you'll insist us Generating a familiar, that'll stick like glue & remains a part of you

I wake in the place that they call the middle The middle time, the night, when nothing but your synapses are bright. The types of thoughts that come to mind are of times of the past and the types of kinds that make you think that you're losing your mind. The sudden astral wake, the jerk, the cough, the spit...the break in reality and the final grip. The grip before you turn your head and realize that you are still in bed. The powerful mind that came from the powerful slime, the slime that existed a billion years before thought, a billions years before lies became thoughts.