I don’t remember nor think about yesterday; I lived then.


Tomorrow is coming no matter what; it’s out of my control.


Now is my truth and joy.


I’m a slave to the depth of thoughts flooding from every direction.


When you are not expecting it, they’re pouring into you and opening you for true happiness; whatever that means to you.


I stop doing and it gets done for me.


I fly over the thickness of poetry and sleep on a soft bed of true silence.


I know what it is; I accomplished it for myself.


I’m the warrior of my body.


I’m the lover of my thoughts.


I dance and I move with my words.


In the end they mean a book to me.


I’m still struggling with having more. Why?




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