“The thing about life is it’s all based on perception. You and I can sit here discussing thoughts until there are no more beans to brew, but we aren’t going to change the ways of the world.”
I don’t know what to do about it. I guess it’s why I’m stuck. Stuck in the middle of a world of words.
“All you can do is tell someone how you feel. Otherwise, you’ll remain the way they see you. Scary, huh?”
What if I feel I think too much?
"Chelsea, what if I told you I could talk to you forever?"
And I followed you home. Wanting to know you, discover us, in another place in time.
a presence inspired by the production of perpetual passion. or perhaps vice versa. processual prose for the preservation of captivating moments. memory must exist to exist. i capture moments to make it so. "claudelean are you awake?" always. "if you could have one wish what would it be?" for an instant to forget my body. with a mind of material, i attempt to write out what is within. it helps me forget my body to make matter.
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