Treasures,Our Creations


Treassures, our creations.
Our illustrious illusions lent learning to life. Waiting for the afterlife and secretly craving_but still all the while fearing_ the sleek slip of deaths syth. Too many instilling hope within the stars and beyond, when freedom is concrete. No freedom is much more descrete, that's why the true slaves are the elite. Funds run their lives. Money making them, therefore wallowing in sin. Lies lived most sublime. Freedom is failing to serve as a state of mind and more to delegate a certain crime.
Mind most of your manners for others to manufacture a character for all to proctor, label you fit or sent off to a doctor. Go get yourself a quick fix, turn his or her little tricks, for a most effective elix-ir. Thank the mad-ame or sir for one tranquilized demise.
Will power is stronger than all of our demented detenion systems. Overcome them to be diminished, after the fat cats and pigs get up from their plates, stuffed and finished... The corps delight finished. Ignore the anguish unless relavent to stress. Most left saying ,"I could care less" . Souls compressed, flares extinguished. Still we recieve much stress and say we are blessed. Rest. Dream of being a son of a bitch trying to fetch a bone. Wake up to debts and loans that leave you feeling owned. Some only knowing property as home.
Misty mind is mocking me. My dreams and realities, knocking me out, into practicality and thrusting me in and out of fantasy, in which thoughts speak with spectacular personality. But surly granting me sanity, I step out of my mind and into vanity.
I hear them sqwaking.
Intranced without even a second glance.
Pointless noises drowning out the voices crowning about my feeling and being.
Just existing and twisting our own reality. And still we establish gravity.
Sanity, what a travisty. Kingdom came all over Calgary.
Treassures... Castles made of sand said one expressive groovy man. Erratic to erotic: lable them psychotic. The beat of our hearts is melodic. Faster are our feet than we believe, stronger are any breathes we dream to breathe. Energy is in you and me, beyond that depicted on any screen. Or in any play you may have seen. Though life consist of screening, we mustn't get lost in meaning. To live is to spend live being, seeing, crawling and fleeing. Not only surviving and breeding. Expression is the key to all you're seeking.


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