S.s.b.

After the madly stream reset everything back to zero swept away, what appeared was a window that
was supposed to be on the other side.
in the middle of inhale, hold and exhale, kept a second of space deep down and made myself at home.
the mornig groly of the landscape looks all dried out, a treasure box buried in the grave of
stillness.
my new born naked senses, ride on the blood stream and think.
outside of common sense, permanent parliament is located, dedicate the fat roll to the imaginations
to come.
stand mindlessly with inverted red eyes left open, try to trace the view from there.
nervous temperament runs into the laboratory, communication shuts down when it's locked from the
outside.
there i find a new planet and euaqtion, i know well enough that i don't know a thing.
Expanding cosmos, thinking of unique operations, smoke stop bhaaa
There's no narrow and shallow ocean, the mountains are always high, and i've never seen another
sunset the same.
i'm always young when i'm climbing on top of surprises, it's not too much to say that that is the
aim of tripping.
the stoned long strike bong, i imagine slowly swimming through te air.
i can correspond to the darkness of other people's minds, a piece of advice in japanese, spoken,
a ball of dope folk.
again, my internal cave has opened its door, which is also the only exit, you can only proceed
forward.
my cold sweat knew what was waiting for me to come through, but i never submit to the threat of
blinkerd vision.
i pass through many villages alive with pleasure, but i heard somebody moaning.
the voice begged "give me more pain", he resembled me, but i didn't know who he was.
Ten smorkes have ten different meanings, a pen is syringe, come on up to the summit of my accumulated
knowlege.
take in the thinning air desperately, descend calmly and unconsciously once you reach the top.
there are no longer any preconceptions that you can always depend on, only the rapid succession
of words and the nuances of sound.
i bet you cannnot reset your jaw, it's all leaking out, i know that you want to escape the difficulty.
but i also know that you eventually want to make it clear on your own and immerse yourself,the
way of listening, and its pleasures.
jammin journey japanese head charge the garage in which half-dried fruits hang down.
cannabis magic, the fruit that instructs me, leave the akasic in the basement, the classic.
i watch over the raw ore-like afterimage, i break through, pointing my finger toward the next awaking.
you are just a slave if you are only feeling good, to use and to be used are a hair's breath apart.
i can be no superman even when i'm on it, ultimately, no matter how long one holds one's breath,
i can only be me.