He imprecisely ventured past the wrought iron gates of his parent’s home in a futile quest of a more comforting haven, one that offered rest for his tumultuous mind. He laid all his weary parts and worry thoughts upon a steel track not far from the childhood euphoria that had been lost now hiding in the brush, mocking his every plea. The track only offers cold awkward musings to tease as the rumbling sound nears. He sleeps believing a setting sun, and a serene judgeless thicket as the rumbling sound nears.
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his mind races, until his eye subsides upon a blade of grass just near his eye. how far and low his wishes have degenerated. his ears lay sleeping upon his tumultuous quiet mournful murmurs that await the sky and all its accumulated spite. there is no yesterday when your today and your tomorrow have collided.
My dear IBJ, he must see his tomorrow and himself breaking from the tragic loss of the expected results drawn in romanticized haste. Break from what was into what can be.
As a wise and peaceful spirit once told me Bithoun.
yeah, bit-houn, bitzoun, bathinzjan, ziljan, zodiac, zydeco, bithhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Innocence... one of the most precious gifts that God can give you.
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