I took a walk on my lawn today. The wet grass posing in daindriff. I asked my self a question. What if nature is proud. I dwelved into the spirit realm and thought to myself. This other day when I saw my future daughter or angel at the front of my computer desk. I turned my head after saying hey and she was gone. Evapourated like dust. This spiritual experience really had me doubting my senses. Can I actually see into the future? She had blond har and an aureola. I regret we did not have a longer conversation. Then again I’d probably loose my mind.
Creation. The vile distance to attributes in an image of clouds. The vision doors. Simplified relentless clowns swinging to adore. To see the faces. Colours reasonably sane. The inane adequacy of timeless evolution. To picture eternity.
The morality of computer graphics. What’s on display. I frown upon the emptiness of such. Where did I begin? Rely on distance.
The public scream of conciousness. To rationalize my demons. The scarce yet fathomable incursion of consequence. To convey sin.
To appologize every token of imagination. The fundamental journey begins. To emancipate darkness.