when it is time for sorrow, butterflies of sad enter the throat, peek through navel and root themselves in the space between belly and tail. when it is time for rage, nomadic bleeding dragonflies crash through temple gates and drop like lead to the waiting room behind heart cavity. emotions are triggered by ego definitions and in the moment of recognition, they find home in consciousness. i am walking a waking dream of revolution and release. i can feel sections of skin folding back and peeling away but i can not feel the ground. today, i am glass jar holding fireflies.

i don't know when life will stop suprising me. when i will begin to accept it is all the divinity that i ordained. soon i will tell you what's been happening down here in sunny california.

< yeah >