There’s a lack of connectivity within these strapping conformities. Slice me away from the American Pie, and offer me delux flavors, non-sweet… a salty refreshment on a palate thirsty for an information overload. A momentum only carried by the weight of movement. Standing up with solely the buzz of any creative perception. A tipping point incapable of reaching the top. I orgasm thoughts spilling with sweat, and it doesn’t stop. Ugh! I yearn for this crest of emotion dancing with rainbows, a hologram of positivity- yet willing to open to both sides. A traffic full of synapses… creeping around, sitting here waiting for it to all unfold, bit by bit… and overhead in this space filled air, my controller tells me it’s time to move on. Cranking an inch at a time, I laugh at how I almost fell into the trap. An exhaust reminds me to hold my breath and accept patience to find the next. Peaking over the edge six hundred and sixty six feet high, I feel weightlessness beneath me and I sigh, with a feeling of relief. I could have been her, dressed in pearls, Lamborghini, stiletto heels. But in all the while of a red traffic light, I rendezvoused with the color green. And I remained still. Even in life which go exudes, I watch the view from my window… red, yellow, green. Never seemed to make sense. I can’t stop when I go, nor go when I stop. A teeter-totter doesn’t come with directions! GPS my reality some time, and find yourself looping a round-about with no real need for a light or sign.
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><)))*>...fishin food for thought...
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