Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Thursday, February 06, 2014

Hold My Hand

I was dictating to the angels, 
I don't think they were taking any notes. 




...and then you turn the page.

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On a clear day it all makes sense as I can see in all directions.

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Winter comes with its own set of drapes.

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When it is wanted it is love,
when not it is an obsession.

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The chapter starts with " With feet firmly planted upon the earth and absent of any void the world took on a whole different view. "

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I feel nothing, not good nor bad, maybe indifferent.

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Life really is short and getting shorter with every passing moment.

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It is like having a really good set of wind shield wipers, all of a sudden it all seems much clearer.
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It is okay to dream...

The world indeed is becoming smaller.

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Walking on a tightrope and you realize if you don't balance you will fall either way.

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Loving is important but the pieces have to interlock or the void will continue.

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I know how a mouse feels when stuck in a sticky trap.
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When dreams are better than reality, time to wake up and make other choices.
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Have you ever tried to hug a porcupine?



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