Thursday, August 18, 2011

A Potion in the Sky to Filter Our Senses

triumph, this dump, are you ready to stand up. for what you want, a little bit of who knows what, and you don't care because they don't care and i've learnt that cares get you no where. wake up, in the dark and realize your just as smart, as you'll ever be, and what are smarts to a person like me, running off of energy, and i'm prepared to take another shot to chalk it up, and i'm not going to back down for your sake, i'm walking away, look at how lovely this is turning out to be. focused on the quarter machine prize because instant luxury might be better than long term goals and we're feeding the fire with less and less coal but it's seeming to grow out of control, we're dancing with no music on and sometimes this is the best way to do it, toppling over the idea of this and the image of that, but suddenly searching faces for more and more frets, don't sweat this moment. empowering the power that i've won, taken from a place that i must've been hidden from. breaking down doors, for a little more air, where has all the freedom gone in here, punching out windows for the perfect amount of light but if we had it our way it would always be night, except for that moment we do decide to dash, a little mixture of both would be acceptably clad, for a potion in the sky to filter our senses, i'm a little stoked to start this venture. packing my bags and no where to go yet, departure is undecided but i'm already half way out the door, and i'm not prepared to stop, for obstacles i do invite, and triumph, triumph.. everybody prepare to fight.

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