Mind Palace.

Memory place. Thought centre. Centre. SENT A. Cent hey. Scent her.
And her scent today, this morning was lapping over my comfortable walls.
Stalwart. Stoic. Red eyed. Dripping.
Yoga this morning, human puddle.
Emotional tyranny.
Tyrannosauraus resc-you. Ressuscitate me.
Men in arms, don’t feel that much.
Cohen- speak to me and i’ll react. Tinny stage performance.
I wait for the battery to.
Flat flat flat, beat. Click your fingers.
Wash your clothes. Your aching back, a late start.
The holy voice of the choir.
The songs almost without word, but full of meaning.
The message, its feeling. Affects me so.
Like a running tide, to evaporate and shower.

I’m impatient. I want to trawl deep withing myself for words and soulful sounds.
Reflections of value.
I thought of asking a person a “complec” a complex question today.
“Stop me if this is too much, but what do you attribute value too in your life”
And they would say, “OK”. And that would be it.
Because they would stop me, but that wouldn’t stop anything truly. If a question is asked the effects follow. The thoughts tangent. The reaction cannot be stoppered!
So then give it time, and they will answer.
They will give a delayed response, maybe not even to you.
Its queer.
I feel like that’s going on now with Wil.
The sidetracked things I say, the pot that I stir in him and others.
The entertainment. The value, the seriousness. The mistakes, the friendships born of sharing to be burdened by violence, disagreement and anger.
POP! And the bubble bursts.
The bubble burts!. Bert. And you’ve earned yourself a mono-brow of plastic that covers your nose. Breathe if you can.
Pink and purple, grey white, flavourless.

I think i’ll go to the beach.

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