Often trees are conductors of the absolute, the sidereal cuss eternity. the blow escapes the rehab and into the fire as known but lost coupons short of your toaster of existence. the mind needs consciousness, consciousness does not need mind. Bon Voyage.. when the body revolts within itself, and parts battle parts, it's the last revolution, the last pogo, follow the few that have wisdom, don't let it deceive with knowledge, the brass ring of annihilation, you'll be recognized by a chip, and maybe it will be all that's left..
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Edward Moore (1873-1958)
"Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them." - Edward Moore
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