For the Old Soul Band of Gypsies… Vol. 1

I’m naked because all my clothes are in the washing machine. I was born naked. It’s raining outside and I’ve got biodegradable soap. If I shower outside does that make me a hippie or am I just making use of what the weather brings?
Call me wise, call me fool, Saint of Circumstance, Stance in Circumnavigation, Native Lunatic in your nearby neighborhood.
I’m dirty. I’m clean.
I’m a junkie. I’m 24 hours sober.
I’m a heathen. I am heaven.
If you don’t understand just ask me.

I open-source my struggles.

I’ll only tell you the truth if you don’t judge me or get mad. 

I have lied to protect you from me.
I am devious & disastrous.
I can create & I can collaborate.
I can decimate, obliterate and co-create… all from the same seed.
I am redundant, I am scared, I am awake, I have no concerns.
I will make anger my pet.
I will make hate’s cheeks rosy red with embarrassment at how much I love.
Not because I can. But because I have to.
I am much more feral than I am civilized.
I act first and add meaning afterwards.
I improvise my morality only after I freehand my fate.
And to that end, all destiny is divine but no man knows his own course in full.
Until it’s over.
Only through the peephole of Death can we hope to unravel the paradoxical nature of life.
Each man is granted linear function, therefore most will curse the abstract metamorphosis that makes butterflies come from slimy creatures. Because they do not understand it.
The spirit is displaced in the masses.
The weight gets stronger for those that have vision.
I can feel it all. I can feel you feel it, too.
And I know you, the one that reads and hears it.
You and I are fragments of the whole.
Our conscious experience is being transmitted into the collection of minds that we came from. I am here for you and I will do my best to ascend, all together, as one. Do not let up. Do not fear. The secret to life is to keep on walking. The secret to dying is to keep on sailing the same sea that madmen drown in, searching for that inevitable something, the infallible origin of what brought us all down to the ground in the first place. Ground yourselves & connect to the stars. All will be well.

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