slowly_devolge_into_curious_homage fyn gula there is falling, not from clouds swollen by raindrops or snowflakes, but unseen dust, sprinkled by the fingers of a God singing to us. this voice is the echo of our indelible longing, an inherent love though humanly impossible, suddenly communicated through our song that has no words, only the trembling of lips, the racing heart, and the silent shoutings of the soul. breath is a gift. a life that is our origin. not blood alone in our veins, but gratitude. strength from muscle, yet more from belief. foundation in skeletal support, but also faith. we walk away upon paths of shimmering light. shadows in opposition, darkness hungry for brightness. 020214 ... tourist paraphrasing I Am a Pilgrim, And a stranger, Traveling through This Worrisome land. But I have a Home, In Yonder City. Good Lord! And it's Not, Good Lordy! And it's Not Not made by Man! 020214 ... phil death 020214 ... bethany devolge, ha....eh...ha. 020214 ... unhinged i swallowed pieces of you to make me whole wrapped in the clouds of smoke we inhaled around each other wanting to touch you because whenever you were around i couldn't hate you your voice dissolving in my head because i will always want to love you and feel so happy when you are in my bed every breath black i wanted to dissolve you and pour you into my heart 020214 ... bethany is there no rest do you still see her in your bed teeth over there yeah, i know i brought him cigarettes many times and he wanted to be just_friends today 2am only....there's no rest 020214 ... unhinged . when you are around everything disappears present (shit fuck, piss) 100918 ... unhinged my heart doesn't do things like this anymore. i can't decide if that is good or bad. 141214 what's it to you? who go blather from