Walls

the waters are blooming like walls
fanciful dreams of white
backward projections through raindrops trickle up
chaotic glass flames purged of hour hands
lucid limitations of forever
A dying man's last words

Heaven

Black climb vines celestial
Twinkle Diamond Lights bud
Ground grows a Heaven truth

windowpain water trickle spirals skywards
ghost towers of babel
eyes despair for truth

tornado, whirlwind light

Melting

Sun melting into sky
colossul funnel sky
shooting light into heaven
streamy stream wings trickle drain
melting into infinite blue, tendrils of truth
melody into everything, pinkish hue harmony
Golden sun melting into sky
gold being tested
Light found true

Nothing

Nothing,
not even the setting of the sun,
reveals the beauty of life
as the epiphany of how each second
could shatter the world in amazement does.
I used to believe
the beauty of the setting sun
was out of this world,
now im truly understanding
how perfectly it fits in.

It feels real to look at the world as if I had never seen anything in my life. I might think, "but ive seen this millions of times" which is why it is beautiful to just let all thoughts float away. To actually look around you not searching for anything, not searching for beauty, but to jusst open yourself and truly look at the world. There is a difference between thinking you see something, looking and thinking, and actually seeing something. It is about not thinking about the world, but believing in it with your heart and believing in life. I do not think the world is beautiful, but feel it. I also do not think you are beautiful, but feel it. I feel the world being so fast and vast. I stand on an infinite plain with every inch holding billions of worlds. You just have to believe and let the worlds fill your heart. Our hearts are infinitely large and that being so, infinitely empty. We always strive to let the love of the world enter our hearts through our love. We could deny it, or make pretend it isnt there, but hope is always there. With hope always there, an incredible, beautiful world is always right before us, always waiting for us. BELIEVE IN LOVE AND THE WORLD!

It is so real to be fully enveloped and surrounded by the beauty of life and the world. Opening your heart up to love and feeling that the world and it's beauty have no bounds is being awake; being lost in life without it mattering where you are, because love is always there and our hearts are home. It is being the sunset, uniting heaven and earth with calm warmth, funneling the very skies into your being. Ceilings in pitch black rooms are warm and infinite because the stars behind them boil and contort them.

Something extraordinary is happening everywhere, all the time, we are lucky to get glimpses of it. I see it, feels like stars past present and future. So many different worlds Im in; so beautiful.

Just a thought, not to be taken seriously, but humans are always trying to simplify everything, work everything down to a single character. Who is to say that we have only one soul in our being? I think we might have infinite souls, and we need to embrace them, not repress them to a single soul. Only problem is does this mean that we are supposed to just not feel, just become one with everything? Ayn Rand taught me that this would be horrible, but maybe its not like in the book, and that in flowing with the infinite souls, we truly feel, and we feel alive and passionate.

Oh well, life is whatever we make of it.

I am always looking at the sky and thinking that is is "something" when really it is the opposite. Sky is the lack of something or rather everything. It is the infinite boundry of everywhere. We always talk of ourselves inside of a sphere, inside the atmosphere, when really we are on the outside, on the brink of forever. Constantly we are fully submerged in the beauty of forever.

In not knowing, there is infinite freedom; its being lost, truly free. Absurd!

Anyways, if there is infinite space in the universe, everything must be possible. But if so, does that mean that someone somewhere is writing exactly this? Is there such thing as creativity or originality, or is it all a stupid shallow illusion? I think thinking about it is a stupid human illusion.

I think i write to make things feel more meaningful. Give meaning to words and pens and ink. I dont think this is good. Is all this a waste? Sounds like a diary! "Journal" is far more manly.

I'm not some character in a book, I'm me. I'm going to hope, I'm going to care and feel. I will embrace the infinite souls that live within me and I shall exploit them. I will reach deep into those infinite worlds I am flowing through and I will know and feel that I'm alive every second. I am scared because of all the things I've been taught and I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, but on the edge of a cliff you have an incredibly beautiful view. I have this moment and in it I am thriving.