Friday, June 14, 2019

"Madness of Angels"


Beware inking down of your dreams. They'll either end up in some future holy scripture, and or as evidence at your trial. To the matter. Time is not linear, and space warps. The damned thing stretches contracts , and twists. Like origami on crack whiskey, and pastries.

I mean just ask Niels Bohr...he'll give you an earful.

However the Dreams.
Just emerged from a mist where it was made plain in the vagueness of that realm that no you ain't from here. Neither is your family. Not your line nor the lines of many others. 

Elsewhere, and Else-when.
I wonder if the "Twilight Zone" was not just an entertainment, but a message. That, and all the other strange stories wonderings, and essays. These that the "different" keep writing, and putting before our eyes.

My digital "Hearth, and Home". If done right these platforms of meeting could be such a miracle. It is, but could be so much more. ...just needs a bit more heart, and introspection.

I'm not from here?

Well that would confirm certain oddities from early childhood. Hearing singing as I fell to sleep. Seeing the sky as different colors from what I was told it was. Remembering sight of the Earth from far above, and away. I saw, in dreams?, our cloud covered home as we see it now. I saw it as it really is before there was the evidence of science.

"I'm sorry,...what the fuck is going on?

Not from here.

...Some elsewhere else-when. I'm intermittently grateful. This for making me aware. For helping me endure life sharply, and perhaps more respectfully.

I'm no Angel. No one is. 

Well not all the time. An Angel as I've found is an act. A verb not a noun. We become Angels of the moment by our works, and example. Pass the popcorn.


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