my hands are like million branches of a large willow tree
Hello Reader,
Bonus writing....
automatic mental plates serving internal blames
we are not going out like that full red under blue fumes
puff puff great bitch of eternity you can gaze at your rhymes
my roots are deep my hands are like million branches of a large willow tree eternal frames
inhale exhale feel the now and vibration you bring into this world windows in windows entropy games
you say you create your story what's there to create if all possibilities are known and all choices are made even you have not selected the outcomes?
all is here all is know for the grasps what you feel is what you become, you choose to dream of black horde death shy underground all for everyone grime and to blames.
there is light casting your shadow on the materials that are just vibrations of different kind choosing to exist in eternal game called existence yet you chose to produce a crisis on your natural being full of macabre crimes!
where the flow was dragging you to the velvety hands of the love highest vibration possible an invitation to be more than feeble existence offered without the "already determined choices" a chaos of creation and destruction a sill of everything in existence a construct of all and the none its not a psychological induced fairy tale of patriarchy its the core of creation hymnes!
King H. Ironson
Reader I really need stiegl to be my beer sponsor, I am out of beers nearly! Stiegl Help! (Who doesn't fucking want a free beer cmon' Stiegl shoot couple of cans or a kegs towards here!)
Music is good, this fucking ai made me drunk because of its great choices of music...
its playing down by the river by Neil Young....
down by the river I shot my baby...
if anyone can relate
not me I didn't shot anyone by the river!
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