Mmm... Sweet potatoes are sWeEt, Potato!

The key is to not stop -- to not gain comfort from cessation, or give servitude gently to sleep. But it is very much a challenge to keep awake through bad dreams, and ever more so through the unimagined pleasure of those we deem good. Goosebumps break out like the prickling of gratitude, tipped at your toes when they watch as though dreaming, tight-rope walkers' feet that don't belong to the ground, nor their routine. Brittle red ribbon, hung loosely like expectation unmet and focus as yet unlooked upon. Throw away the silly reasons why! This minute exists solely for the self you mean to be--but only right this minute--look not beyond, because vision stops dead there. Look not above, because you'll only catch god's henchmen looking down, sick with jealous love. Not resentment, but admittedly, hardly love at all by now. Then look not below either, except to dream wonder into the earth, your stepping stone sufficient. Question lightly the hand-written note, even as you enjoy its solemn or joyous message. Massage into stress the hope of new life, and old alike. Ancience like spearmint breath warm on waiting skin; newness like carrots that burgeon--singularly miraculous, each crimson-orange crown resplendent with green and traceless of gray. Decay like brave sacrifice, understanding the ridiculous self-flattery imbued in the prospect, still unhumble in the lesson learned in giving up for the sake of balance. Giving over to the blissful, beatific utopia of KaRmic VisIon--a universal scale weighing out the promises, promising aLL to all it holds dear. Shatter the concept of considerate justice, at the expense of experience allowed & entrances wide-open. Honest.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (5/1/09)

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