Those conversations that leave you feeling…

elevated and better than before…they remind you of the magic that can weave thru reality.

They bring out your most optimistic, excited, highest state.

They make you feel buzzing, with ripples of shivers migrating across skin. Kundalini? Are you hanging out too?

Thank you.

Let’s keep on cultivating these interactions, and prune out of the rest to save energy for what really matters.

Four Scores and (Eighty-) seven Whores Ago…

Cycling through all the memories I hold,
attempting to craft up a new ending,
I realize I have chapters left untold
to the stinging king–character: a fling.

Ooo, baby! Did you just hear that one ring?
Come on down off your bed-swaying high horse.
Hear my words, feel their essence, let it sting.
Of course, you digress to endorse your “source.”

And no remorse, for my truth you ignore,
or for my emotions you influence.
What does that make me? Lax foyer decor?
Unify like a stagnant confluence.

Once so innocent, you left me in ruins…
a thriving civilization no more.
Merciless and widespread executions,
right before you gently walk out the door

When do I accept something literally
instead of taking it figuratively?

And when will the delusion of you
fade back to the Blue?

Aight. Aight, Mate.

Yes, it’s true that he was indecisive.
The pulling force from the opposite end,
Made our relationship do a little bend.

I hate to think of all the other possibilities.
Why does it have to be so confusing?
Which one of you guys thinks it’s amusing?

Perhaps I will have another chance…
Sometimes I wish I had the power to read minds,
His face would be very interesting to look behind.

This all still agitates me so much,
It seems to be always my fault;
Then I ponder as I halt:

‘I was not the one to lie continuously;
It was him that always did the deceiving.
My job was to find a way to do the relieving.’

This won’t make my bad thoughts go away.
His words in my memory are just little captions;
What really hurts me are his actions.

One day all this mess will be cleaned up.
He will suffer as how I did,
But boy, I still love that kid.