Therefore when I am not at peace with myself then I am at war with myself.
Fighting battles on multiple fronts. Facing invasions launched from the base of others' expectations. Seeking shelter from a rain of fire pouring down on my self inflicted conflagrations.
The images of the damage I see to my bloodline expose the poor defense I put up against my beloved pride and arrogance.
An army of me's battling for the moment. For a spotlight and planting for future consciously fueled photosynthesis fertilizing my path with improvised implosive devices.
I could mount a response but I would rather mount a dragon.
I could aim tanks at my anxiety but I would rather have a tank of gas so I could fly over it.
Part of me revels in misery and the other part revels in toxic inhumanity.
Inner savagery and warfare began to define me before 3.
Such a small piece of space the religious mind can be.
NO to the North...NO to the South...NO to the East...NO to the West.
NO from Here to There.
NO from Yesterday to Tomorrow.
From Tomorrow to Forever NO is the only boundary I see.
NO Hope.
NO Science.
NO History.
NO Connection.
NO Peace.
NO Love.
NO Love.
NO Planet.
I was alone to me and my own crafts. I drafted a Constitution of Confusion and The Hall of Regret is my Smithsonian Institution.
The dust never gets time to truly settle before the sirens are going off again and my mind says run but my heart says stand and I am once again ripped down the middle with each of them holding one hand looking into my eyes with one question pouring from THEIR eyes...
Which way do we go?
The only way I know to go...
NO
#Quorizma
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