mellow trains made of marshmallows
Hello Reader,
Today i ducked a migraine..there is a great storm ongoing here
wind was crazy, it blew my recycling thrash bin to the end of the street...
I had to walk all the way 10 homes away to find it stumbled on the lawn of another home...
the thing is that everybody have the same type of garbage bins...so it took me while to recognize mine..
reader, yesterday I mentioned that I wanted to help in some way to the people battling with addictions...
I checked possible fund raising activities but I was not able to find one ...
so I will work more on that department..my idea was to promote the already available online donation links in my platforms..also to donate of course,,
lets see if I can get in touch with someone in the community that have a direct relation to the people helping out the people with such problems...
oh by the way Singaporean readers decided to stop reading the blog...
I am not sure but for some reason I received 5K views in February from there and today there is not a single view weird..
for while I got used to having 500 views daily ha ha...
but its fine with me...
what matters most is whether you are staying true to yourself and your ideas reader,,,,
today because of the storm the weather was very dark and rainy so was my mood...
also all day I had this headache pushing its limits to becoming full fledge migraine
but my playlist was playing happy songs for some reason...
where as my mood was bittersweet...
I have to add that last night I have seen terrible nightmares although I cannot remember what it was
woke up in the middle of the night in panic ready to scream...my heart was racing...
I drank a glass of water and for while I checked the blog because I didn't want to sleep
than I opened the tv to have some sort of sound and fell a sleep uneasily
morning came to me with clogged nose and a cranky mood...
the meditation was also so disturbed today...I had difficulties to breath from my nose
anyways reader...I am going to end here...tomorrow we can talk more...
protesting batman give way to indian in pj redflags were lined up on the street in a black and white movie. a dumb wit pointed all the map and yet there was only one star shining on blue whistles slown minds were grown, blood fell on the broken glass mixed to red spray paint always get your disclosures from a colored tv driving on the crazy lane man haul cluttered waterways from the rates of change who serves the background crowd in shadows? long bridges extend to infinite plains of desert and meadows of greatly written books of long passed statues red coated bloats step out and waiting for her class in yellow cabs with red book covers peace was not soldiers only hope in crowded intersection humiliated by currency bald haired evil men in shorts try to rule the world with blue pills stacked up their ass papers crush under the weight of metal discs before knit wit with black framed glasses spoke with his incompetent hands beards got ashamed of the waterfalls flowing to become a commodity unfocussed hell of floating sperm. One armed bandits are orphaned under dark horizons. feeble moon squirts a pale white reflection of what is transformed from the true light shone upon plauses of infinite numbers increase and decrease to describe a house made of dirt with a woman sitting in front of it by a bright colored dress looking up to the great lake in the horizon where shores were covered in litter where poor fisherman were sailing on the boats made of tin. Oh talking lips obey the heart for once not the mind. Speak out the purple truth in the sill of the mind. Floss the loss of gross boss, a scammer of frequent farts. blank plank of indecent goats fly to red bleed sunsets over the green shirts waiting for the chunky mellow trains made of marshmallows. My prays of unnamed shadows cannot be saved to the morning after white birds eat them as the squirrel snack. Ways of dream instruments stuck up in a black microphone designed like a monster dildo of the police baton smacked to your face everytime you speak up the songreal. Old fainted deaths of hills thrills my evening pills smashing like a pink piggy bank at 4 pm when joker's came to life from the playing cards. Asking me to hit the street with not cats sign in a cat costume pretending to be a white haired claps of the crowds watering my headache from a black oxide faucet. Cartoons reform open windows over talking radiators, white clouds are sneaking in as the argument was fueling up.
KHI
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