there is neither right nor wrong just a time and a place to put the time and say what we say in the theater of oft inside the voice in our lives yet lived and in smiles yet to be smiled as when we find ourselves lost - in to the rocks rolling down streams of life and the melting of sand into the water of being where freedom is nothing and nothing is ever free behind my eyes is were I look to see when the streams of consciousness blends with the right words and makes all the wrong stops along the road of blissnessless
blissnessless should be a word just because that is the expression of expression less feeling like I almost feel now but then over more so of the edges that are a crust of lust and life inside the pressures of broken hearts and burnt candles in insensitive incenses that smolder like the living of lies often so secure in there denial that being becomes much of the less then less of nothing by the end things remember then forget the death at the end of even there own off there own end over the next few edges of time I begin to smile like the nonsense that is typed in side the lines where out of the lines come infrequent mistakes of nothing but a broken edge and a broken reality the fragmented the mind of nothing more never but nor ...
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