Keep away the stress by sharing a spliff. We are the motherhood of feral. I grin while grieving — some symphony between that hypothesis of downfall to the upswing. The creative realm employs us, & I am the colloquist of valor. There’s a grounding to this in set sound because ORTET knows how to keep it down. I sometimes snap, stumble, & panic. Pull back. Don’t fall for the trap. Instead, uppercut the tax of disaster. The forbidden emotions are recessed — flashes of amber & I am detached, yet guided to their mercy. Supposedly. Fictionalized autobiographies are testimonial returns. They are about our fights. Diving into contextual exchange, & sometimes, its rhythmic valve is a ploy wanting us to go down with the ship. Just remember no one is coming to save you. No one besides yourself. You are always beside yourself. I am no one. So, what does your mind hesitate to remember? What have we ever meant to each other? I wonder this, only to myself. No one. These streets fear those long-in-the-tooth who sketch frail-voltaged economic tales. Our acts of daring were formed for us to become unbowed. Perform the uncontrollable with me. No one. Cogitated immersion unsurpassed. The tactics in forced whispering in saying things such as, “what have we ever meant to each other?” My mind does not hesitate to remember wondering this. I want to keep expanding for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be anybody at all. Just no one. Nothing at all.
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