SUGARY SWEET SUITE

welcome to the sugary suite sweet – where all of your candies reside in a cavity mansion! care to jovially prance down this road? *well – it certainly sounds inviting, however some would dare, that you break free from the invitation and EOI!*

it’s a SWEET SUITE! decked with all the fixings! a chocolate pool. caramel encoded doors. windows laced with icing – mirrors glossed with angel frosted meringue! you couldn’t find a fructose more frivolous; than the fields of folly jolly, harboring these ranches. it’s almost abhorrent to walk into such saccharine corridors. the smell of such crisp invitation is enough to add more bounce to the ounce.

this facility of sugar is fallacious in every appearance. it shows up this way / that way / – after all to display a cone or honey clay. the molding of such delight is one that leaves your feet very sticky. your hands? very icky! your face? a house where you can’t find the mickey!

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don’t worry ! it’s a suite! you will sit on high towers all of which are rushed by endorphins. your brain explodes – this much is true, but you also collapse into a deep coma of activity. your every waking moment – alert and active at the snacks which await your tongue.

When the walls are too sweet, knocking them down is only mandatory – even at the risk of not wearing a parachute. When you’re free falling – you tend to not mind so much the road down to ruin. In the TRIPLE S there is no illusion or masquerade – the invite of fairy marmalade are savory to the search. if you were in need of a savior – salvation is salivating in this…when your enter those heavenly gates. you’ll want to keep it a private bliss, one you can secretly kiss.

it’s so nice, others dare know it as a vice. it’s what keeps you still.

*even in a field of cotton candy*

for some rather be abide in the cavity of sugar!

in the melody of a sweet piano tune.

the curse of this song and dance means never ending, animal like craving from the core.

the graph of subject and the title is doomed to make sense to the reader.

just as the arrangement of what’s in the bowl, seek to make sense if the food is tasteful or completely dry without flavor.

the process of this desire is not yet signed.

a promise is not yet delivered, to the nose of interest!

what can be found in the treasure box stolen by pirates?

the same gold and silver governed by kings and queens (&anything in between)?

the sugary sweet suite will make it difficult for you to solve the riddle of its sweetness. this sugar should enter the election of the affluent cavity – for it bounds you to the visceral and nectarous gravity.

however, if you were to come to this place – you’d find it very easy to chill on the candy pillows. the succulant marbled surface leaves a lot to be desired and that’s only the surface! in this place – you can even eat the dishes! this place is filled with syrupy mediocre wishes! the kind that melts on your mouth immediately while creating a dessert, desert like search for water. it may leave you dry, but that’s the cost for unchecked willy-nilly wonka cream! it’s the realization of living without a dream!

When: Death Appears Like An Orgasm

“Death has become life in the sense that I’ve reached the light.

I’m apart of the destination that requires the vehicle of pleasure…”

And Now The Last Serving of Dessert served by Jeremy Garner who handles all of the music and production. Additional Vocals served by eLLe. There’s not much explanation behind the intent of this song. Think of watching a movie – we watch it because of the climax. Same reason we read the books. Sometimes the climax is not as exposed but there’s always one hidden in some way. Now think about the face you make when you _________ Exactly. Just look at my face. There’s your answer! 😀

https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/death-appearing-like-an-orgasm

Remember – On YouTube is where to find me and Jeremy Garner’s Latest Collaborations!

Hallow Rush

Holy is the night – as the darkness invites all of those who play in sight. The scare of the light is embraced by the thrill of the night. We’re all responsible for the treat, but the master of personal experience is the ultimate trick. Should you? OR Shouldn’t you?

Was it Wrong or right? The ‘evil’ somehow is still followed by good. Could we live in perfect nirvana? Even if we could, how long would it take for someone to raise hell?

It didn’t take Lucifer that long to demand equal rights. Sure, he wanted to imitate but isn’t that the highest form of flattery? Lucifer was an angel, the most decorated angel. But Lucifer was not satisfied with God’s treatment of the angels because God created angels as His slaves (Strange but true). They had no other will but to serve him so maybe his robots?

Eh, you catch my drift.

While humans were given free will. Lucifer wanted this same thing among the angels, to which God didn’t agree. As a result, Lucifer launched a rebellion against God with other angels he persuaded (this means Lucifer had free-will, btw)

Seems to me, Lucifer did not do anything that would be evil by today’s standards. I read the bible enough to see this. 😀

Has he killed people? Nah. Has he destroyed someone else’s life? Nah. Has he tried to be an intruder on something that humans were doing, just out of sheer curiosity? Nah.

(Well technically, God made a deal with the devil to see how long Job could endure a shitty experience.)

Lucifer was just an angel with wit and intelligence. He didn’t kill anybody, nor he did anything immoral by today’s standards. Still, Lucifer is considered “Evil” because he launched a rebellion against God demanding equality of just free-will.

Ah, the philosophy of Free Will!

At any rate, boogie on down with no fear of monsters grooving with you too. It’s all Dichotomy. Some would say darkness opposes light and that monsters and angels aren’t the best of friends.

I think everything has an intricate relationship. It’s all connected. You can’t remove the taboo completely, it adds context to the story. If there wasn’t a thrill of climax, no one would be coming.

Would you really watch a movie if there was no climax? There’s got to be a rush. A Holy Rush!

Halloween is finally here – the treat and the trick. Which one is which?

Heavens Thighs

I’ll take it further than you’ve ever imagined. I’ll outdo your expectations and rise like the Phoenix from Arizona.

Wait for real?!

You’d actually do that?

Yep.

So cover your ears if you need to.

Take Shelter.

I ain’t hiding anything.

The force of my lighting is going to strike.

You are already so close to the tree.

Nothing will keep you from the flame that is ahead.

Unless you want to be burned with the wrath that is to come.

This wrath is fueled by love.

A love that adorns this sanctuary with jewels and luxury of embellishment.

In heavens thighs, there is very little room for sighs.

For the breath of your everlasting light, is exhaled when you don’t fight.

Give into this joy and inhale this bliss – once you taste of my caress, we will evaporate into this…

A touch so profound, it’s meant to explore paradise in all of its treasure.

Let’s climb into a climax of Royal pleasure.

A promise of this feeling is sure as we have now found the cure.

The disease is stricken from our skin – as now we have been blessed to win.

You were afraid , if I’d ever commit to such a crime.

Who would have ever thought we would make up the time?

Look at us now as we glide with an illustrious design. The prophecies were true and damn, we fine!

Take it as a sign – we’ve enveloped the best of our mind.

Tower Girl

With each step, she climbed closer

Closer to her dream.

She built upon a climax that would grant her an entire KNEW language.

She noticed those who vocalize, with fervent concern.

They did not care but instead challenged the wonder of the mysterious Night.

She prophesies with great conviction, as the truth danced within her belly.

She heard the word from the divine one, as she anointed her lips as she became aware of her mission.

To not ponder on the disbelief, but to encourage a sense of magic which would awaken all a part of the trick.

It was not a trick of desperate attempts to blind one within the illusion, but a trick of a trip which brought ecstasy.

Many knew her as the Tower Girl, she climbed higher anytime one would listen as her summons called those who were considered least.

She did not mind the attire, nor colorless ambitions..it only allowed her more sensibility.

A prophetess of the night, with a light of those kept by the darkest memories.

A light that brought hope to those who wanted to make the world better.

She beckoned religion to strip its clothing of toxicity and division.

She noticed how many of the blind ones, stumbled on the rocks of desperation.

They really intended for some sign that would bring a course of direction.

She built on the molder and ROCKS Beneath them.

She felt the need to crush them, as the minerals would build upon the next.

Train Membrane

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The heartbeat of your stimulation beats in syncopation with my desire to please you.

You breathe very slowly, as I inhale the detailed whispers of what you anxiously await, to uncover you.

There is a train in the membrane, which climbs to the height of our awaiting passions.

Your hands write onto my back, the secrets of gratitude.

You claw a print onto me gently; yet very passionately. I thrust into you deeply, and your sighs recognize the power, enveloped within my passion.

Your canvas has shown me yellow chakras a liken to sun rays.

Your hair is sizzling and your pulse calmly speaks of eager anticipation.

I am paraded through the fire that belongs in our eyes.

I no longer insist that we keep our cool, as the flames eat us alive.

My love for you uncovered us in the cold.

The heat is sufficient enough!

While you’re pounding heartbeat scribbles your lifeline, my drums signatures my thirst for life!

In many emotions, my mind is like a train, and the membrane is enveloped in my present passions. I remember writing this piece when I gazed at a shy angel at a party. She was too shy to speak in detail with me. I somehow could tell by the sweat of my suspicion there was a narration, that would begin when she shook my hand. All of this is innuendo and none of it truly summarizes the actual. That is what makes a metaphor, a clever designer! What you read is tempted to persuade a sense of sexual heat. Behind the door of sensual and sexual invitation is the knob of broader expressions. Expressions which detail other mannerisms. which dance in my mind. It’s more than the mere mention of taste and intimacy, the train is what institutes a track of arrival. I can’t derail off the tracks when the focus is within a membrane!

Sex Shuffle

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Shuffling between the cards laid about between my deck, many strangers of games – gaze in my incentive.
 
Aliens are these strangers with a unique knowledge that seems familiar.
 
They speak of this muse and how long she sought to travel down the line and within a consciousness of root.
 
She begged me to go deeper.
 
She closed my eyes with the whispers of her satisfaction
 
Then I woke up in the dream of her own existence.
 
Who was I really looking at anyway?
 
My vibrations begin to deceive the bed where I lied.
 
The question is: Do You Lie?
 
If you’re talking about if I sleep or not, yes I do.
 
I lie.
 
But it is not a lie of deception.
 
The more I try to explain, I then, I lose half of the reasons she came to me.
 
It happens so fast, I squeezed her frame and she reminded me she was only that a frame.
 
Many selections are now in play and they gather with a sequence of sex.
 
Sex which shuffles the cards of game or reality?

Strumming Tingling

Strong strings – I can pull towards me.
 
If you were the string – I’ll have you wrapped around my finger.
 
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With my might

I would seek to pull you a little close, but don’t worry, I’d caress you softly!

If anything I must compare you to a fine and curvy guitar.

I, the master guitar player.

My strums would be gentle but aggressive at the same time!

My progressions are gentle at first but this is until a gust of rhythm enters into my veins.

My French cuff shirt is designed to layer our fastened direction of rebellion.

Out of this world. I got to talk to you again.

Hear your melody again and bidding the time with motion!

The tune is singing within me and you’re the sound eye seek.

I woke up with your right hand in my hair while my fingers rested on your river brook thighs.

A sound so beautiful that my fingers, beg to strum the tingling of your twitches.

Vexed Panting

My blood is panting like on an African Safari.
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I was kept on a journey that tasted like a volcanic fantasy and destination.
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My body raved of a secret understood only between the curves and a rising agent which belong to me.
 
Silently my eyes remember what great presence your sincere frame belongs to.
 
The life which is being witnessed by the balanced giving of your charity.
 
You bite just enough to keep my mind on a vexed motivation.
 
I’ve known you to be a seed planter, and you carefully drop this amidst the growing perimeters.
 
You speak with a delighted gesture of peace, and a piece of me is grand as it is aware.
 
This is not a flaunted boasting of your most tempting rewards, rather humble auctions of your sensual blessings.
 
Actually, I’ve become familiar with the ground as I am grasping for air.
 
My body aches as it conveys a breaking down of carnal indulgence like I’ve never experienced before.
 
Messages are being tracked within the vessels of my words unto you.

Unending Math

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Salvador Dali

Like a fire is known by the passion of yesterday – our galaxy is made of mysterious makeup and powerful energy!

Magnificent feelings which take us to the sky and then to the unending line which goes on forever.

If you could understand the angles on which I am met – you would see why this corner is so hard to be in.

Hard like Arabian Math – with a great thrust to intersect.

I’m giving you a lampshade crown as I am weeping on your knee.

Weeping because all I see is the lamentation of a world without you.

I am happy to know you’re here in my route.

So take those pregnant pauses and when you are ready to deliver.

I’ll be there to carefully caress your body language!

You swallow whole the engulfing mystery of the night.

Rivers and streams within you.

I just want to play by the awakening of your waters.

You keep my eyes focused, but my heart yearning for more!

 

Breaking Sugar

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You are like a fallacious cat! With suspense, you lurk around, but I am unable to determine your enveloped complexity.

We mumble and are granted with a possessed pause!

Our eyes have met each other and the sentencing of conviction is held captive.

Through our burning and BREAKING – we’ve established the power which creates a flammable wind.

The smile of our temptation is understood by the science of our physicality.

Your water brooks have kept the springs which give life to the destitute land.

But, I  like Moses will strike my rod upon you and with ease, I shall enter this promised land.

A land which speaks of true fantasy.

True and delicate pieces of passion fruits which cover.

We’ve spoken of timing and this concept of waiting, as it truly prolongs the need to implant this seed.

The bursting of SUGAR describes the garden of energy and the galaxy from which it comes from.

Hey Beautiful!

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One of my favorite posts in reply of seeing a post that absolutely diminishes the reality that it ultimately takes two. Stop revoking men who are just as responsible for the act. Men having random sex with these same women are also given the same projections of these women. A post like above should address men in the same attitude. If a woman is considered “Loose” men are just as loose. Responsibility can’t be one-sided when two people are having sex. Regardless if you do NOT believe in oneness, women should not be the only positioned victim who needs the counseling. Men play an equal part. SO if anyone is being embarrassed, both victims are. A One-Sided Address, to the issue, is never going to be a successful conveyor of balance.

Engulfed Cosmos

The chamber of your folly has cast an evening spell of virgin desires.

While at my new beginning, I laughed because of the sweet tenderness that was ancient.

The room is stained with a fury that raves the composition of your frame.

Without even touching you; you have pulled me in by the embrace of your S E X.

Almost kneeling before you – I must confess that my mind has made up a story of its own tale, my next move will narrate the grasp I watch.

No longer can I dissolve the sensual practice of waiting, my rising star is engulfed with the foretaste of our cosmos.

I’m moving along the whims to rip and shatter those chandeliers and wallpapers which focus – on your internal sense of design.

We both can feel the numb grooves, that silence begins to serenade within and with a slice of thrust, we can announce a noise above the grooves!

Again and again, you’ve pulled me into the fragile trance that keeps me at the tip of your straps.

My fingers are shouting at the knob that I’m turning clockwise and I hear the loud knocking off your heart.

I’m going to turn counterclockwise to readjust the shifting locks of your combination.

You can’t hide the alarm that is aware of the danger of this focus.

I’m invoked in the present state of burglary and my crimes have bypassed the law.

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Listen to Amel Larrieux’s Afraid for a deeper understanding.

CONSUMED (O) COMA

CONSUMED COMA

The manipulation comes within the eagerness of gratification.
As the thoughts begin to seek into a throne where joy is indulged.
Curiously taking each step onto each height, the inflamed desires, are tickled.
Carried away into dreams and visions of what has become of your yearning settles within your engagement.
Now being kissed and caressed by the indignant lust – you’re propelled to fly higher into a monumental delight.
You’ve fallen into a deeply consumed coma.
Now what you hear and see are created, by the command of your endangered thoughts.
The dream and vision are only short-lived as the coma begins to break free from its trauma.
Announced in the awakening is the misguide of ecstasy, which comes only to court your charm.
 It is in this misguidance, wherein the emotion of condemnation is sentenced against you.

Sugary Flow

Sweeter dreams of milky passions she speaks.
 
She compliments the insight of what she sees in the light!
 
The wonder in her words – counting again.
 
I’m trying to recall the statement in her blessing!?
 
Going forward through 17 measures – which is poetically sung within the voices of melodic serenades.
 
She sings of a feeling, that pounds her heart so near.
 
As her rhythm is understood, by the choir of an audience, everyone sings in harmony.
 
The flow is begged by a craving for sugary islands and sweet drops of rain.
 
If this were a song it would be forbidden in the broadcasted notion of what is truly sacred.
 
Every part of syncopation no longer waits – it takes each chance to deal with the response.
 
The desires are fully dressed with unselfish luxury.
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Dedicated: To The One -Who Embraced The Element Of My Longing // Her Name Is Behind The Camera.

Consequential Replay

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Open the door, that leads to the corners of the alley.

You’ll then see a cat and when she lurks around your composition – you’ll find a nervous sensation!

Be careful to charm the legs of suspense because they look too warm you through their lingering.

Every when night you go to sleep – they appear in dreams reminding you of the boy you once were.

Being very earnest to play with every living creature that came your way.

The intimacy that comforts you in the pillows and sheets gives you the indication of excited passions.

When she settles down in your desires, you become governed by the will to replay it again.

Looking down to write down more of this story – the archive of already established stories hovers your mind.

You are reminded of the effect this magic exhales upon you. Time and focus again; you find yourself, continually a part of the consequence of transmission.

She’s the one behind the magic who merely comes as the mirage of fantasy.

Everyone knows how she tastes – the fascinating lullaby that makes all children close their eyes in the midnight hours.

The composure of replay gives back the lost reason, a home that is to be remembered.

I’ve experienced this quite recent, being haunted by the familiar cat.  I’ve taken a break onto social indulgence because of the heaviness of what is going on. I’ve been reminded by the focus of her obsession that there is a story that covers the mind! It’s been like a replay, but my home is no longer there, I desire to fall into the grace of a magical place!

Volcanic Exits

If you are in a room wherein the heat is swamped with desire, the illness which warms your insides will by no means overdose on the medicine presented.
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(Can you seriously, take more of what you believe you need? When You realize // You don’t want it?)
As the hot and gripping feeling begins to trickle, at the very composition of attraction.
You become the student of attraction while being taught by the lessons of fire, lava burns your shadow.
Words become whispers and your every breath becomes as loud as the dynamite.
What happens off the room where the aroma is sizzling?
Maybe you should ask the smoke as now it expands across the room.
This smoke and ash are elected to keep you held hostage to the room.
You find no escape, so on the ground, you are helplessly requesting for an exit.
Every a cough beckons for a clearance of this spark
Yet you continue to enter the dimension of flame and volcanic vapor.

Sensual Orbits

My touch is like a multitude of mountains reaching the glories of heaven.

My words still cease on the street of doubt and inner tribulations.

Like Venus, my rotation is clockwise and I walk backward as Venus to the truth, I’ve always understood.

The peril of heartbreak spoke gently to my fragile soul.

This time, it’s as if the sensual orbits embrace the causes of desire.

You long for me to touch and yield fire to your yearning body.

Even in the thrust of my answer, your mind is deluded to my attire.

As you feel the passion inside of you like thunder, you’re still flashing as lightning first.

I am looking directly into the light and there is a cause to readjust or else I’ll be blind.

What’s more than the sensuality of our orbits designating a strict path of interest?

My prayers are reconciled with the galaxies of knowledgeable monumental pieces of data.

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These orbits are sensual indeed as a conversation with a ghost dive at a charm I’m familiar with. Conversation invokes a detailed comfort which courts right at the kiss of lustful memory. I’m feeling the throbbing member which feels a reminiscent courtesy that is allowed because of a distant creation. The universe knows what great length creation took place, as we only struggle to make meaning in and out of its enormity. 

Rebel Sensation

I think they HEARD us. The careful movements in which our whispers were made known appeared as rocks falling from a cliff.

I think they FELT us -we were consumed in a fire while trying not to burn down the walls which kept us secret.

I think they SMELLED us – We burned down and the ashes of our beings have created a traceable smoke that is absorbed miles afar.

I think they TASTED us – Our lingering aroma seemed to find itself on the tip of their tongue, which gave a reminiscent delight.

I think SEEN us – We tried to escape, but the nakedness of our innocence proved far too exposed than our dress desired to accomplish…

I think we know all of these things sensed rebel inclination

It’s interesting when we examine the senses that ever so closely are realized through the nature of someone’s insight. It’s quite interesting how I came up with this piece, it is a hilarious but yet so very embarrassing story. Need I explain?

I don’ think I’ll explain that! ALL I know is, after it was over, we both seemed to realize what it means to be a rebel.

Nakedness, exposure, and shame are all of these things seem to have a motivation.

 

Lust Into Rebellion (Scandalous Desire)

 

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Some of you may know who she is? I surely do! This particular face she has; always makes me give into rebellion! You see, she had just got denied by Edward! “Edward come back! Stop Edward, You can’t-do that!”

Then she looks in lust from the distance! Similar to the anticipation she had; when she heard the rebuke from the religious leader in the neighborhood when she said

“It has been sent down to tempt you, but it’s not too late! You must push him from you; expel him! Trample down the perversion of nature. “

To which she replied; “Did you hear that? He’s a perversion of nature, well isn’t that exciting?”

That is one of my favorite lines in a movie. You can count on the religious traditional law; to judge before knowing a person! True love from within comes from understanding and accepting a person as they are. If only a robot (Edward) could have a heart and not be programmed!

This picture makes me smile and indulges in the nature of what is considered the perverse. I am willing to become a scandal for the nature of unconditional love.

Beautiful Asexual

I’m inclined, but in a desire that is exempt from indulgent ecstasy.

There are very few things which deliberate the action and remedy to illness.

We can blame the exogenous factors which are seen throughout the windows or we can simply relate to our own dilemmas in the mirror.

We often neglect the latter; for a more easier approach to blame others.

It seems against the drive to eliminate the passion of understanding.

Very beautifully standing the ‘asexual’ motivation; is hereby unable to be tamed.

It goes in every direction; not looking for a home or a place of rest. It desires not a testimony, neither an oath into the future, rather a tentative examination.

Hesitation journeys on a quest for certainties; what becomes soon clear is its stillness. It is simply ‘Beautiful Asexual’.

A thought that is congruent to this is something I wrote called “Trained Mirrors” Check it out! https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/trained-mirrors

Sometimes, what is beautifully standing, is what you can’t have. There is a still a sense of understanding we should give! Not every time can we indulge in what is appealing! Sometimes we get in the way when looking at others. It starts with looking at ourselves!

The Flower Teacher (Garden Virginity)

In the middle of the landscape, there lays a blossom of innocence.

The theory of learning progresses the passive wills of chastity.

The landscape has fully dressed the garden to appeal to the tools of fertilization.

The energy within starts to silently seek for one to come into the bliss of tight entrances.

As the desires for fulfillment are given by the kiss of fire.

The expectation of rain is brought by the movement of fingers which slowly manage to shout longing.

Forecasting into the future, the weather becomes intimate with the radar of mutual predictability.

Falling into the height of the endless skies of ecstasy; the unfolding lusts are entering into dimensions of positioned pulchritudes.

The eyes of bloom are intensified as the depth of divinity reaches its climax.

Angels begin to witness the appetite humans are given; due to the blessing of attraction and affection.

Targeting the arousal given by the initiation of touch and action harmony is blessed within a sacred union.

Being willing to jeopardize the standards of oath because of the lava in the heart; hears only the sound of heat waves.

Now as the leaves of lust and love are given at the expense of decoration; the ornaments of energy are innuendos of pure caress.

Fulfillment has exhaled the thoughts of opened blossoms; as the bloom has revealed its nature.

Summarized Notion For Thought: The flower teacher has a garden of virginity. It’s sacred. 

2 Giants Kissing IN The Land Of Small Things (Fantasy)

I have no one to talk to now so I have decided my words to talk to you because you are somewhere here on earth (Aren’t you?)

No one really knows the process of how the Internet evolved to where it is now but certainly, it has given us the capacity to communicate in ways we probably never thought were possible a couple of years ago.

BUT, that is not what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about dreams in what part they play as it concerns a relationship broken or mended. I remember me and Miss X use to get these dreams all the time. Every time she dreamed, she would remember every detail of it. She always told me that there was a way for everyone to remember their dreams. Apparently, psychology and experts have come to an agreement you could. I have yet to know that formula. I always seem to remember bits and pieces, and so when someone was to ask me. I would make it up along the way where I forgot. I mean, they wouldn’t know the difference anyway, because it was MY dream. No one really likes hearing a good story, and then the storyteller stops and says. “Then..I don’t remember…”

People can deal with not remembering but they rather you add something for the sake of the story. Imagine going to a movie and right at the climax, it just stops. It’s the same feeling when watching one of your favorite shows, and the ‘TO BE CONTINUED…‘ Slaps your anticipation in the face. That sucks, but even more so; if it’s a real event you really have no clue on how to finish. That is when you start making some details up which make some type of sense. Nonetheless this morning, I remember large details from this dream. It’s speaking to me, and it makes my heart apprehensive. I remember I made a video called:

‘2 Giants Kissing In The Land Of Small Things’

This video best summarizes this dream. I made the video about a year ago, and the meaning makes sense now. I remember I heard the voice ‘2 Giants Kissing IN The Land Of Small Things’ while in my best friends car in New Orleans. It just came to me like that, so as inspiration so often does.I just went along with that voice. I wrote a little story about it and eventually, I made the video you see above.

Me and Miss X were like TWO BIG Giants kissing in the land of small things. When you think of that scenario that births out an equation of miniature or major chaos within romance! We were two large giants in our own respects and we were romantic. However, the setting was small. We were somewhat locked in a time that had to mean and where space had walls. I remember telling her – I want to be at a place where time has no meaning and space has no more walls. She always looked at us being at this place already, but it still seemed as if we were not there. In my opinion; it’s as if we wanted to believe we were there because we loved each other so. When you’re in love – imagination windows a picture of perfection or at least contentment in what is there. It windows so many elements that are not necessarily the mirror of what will be revealed.

In the dream, we met up in an exotic town, and she looked so beautiful to me. I held her and my heart sunk. We both cried and looked at each other with immense realizations that this was our final destination. I told her I love her, and she told me she loved me. We were on our way boarding a train, when her Father came, (kind of playing around with me as if he wanted to slap my hand, but then he shook his head and suckered punch me and started to laugh.) As we boarded the train it was only me and her together, and somehow our setting seemed maximized as if we could kiss in peace without the restrictions of small lands.

Immediately after this dream. I remained quiet for about an hour. Just reviewing all of this in my head. Upon reflex of this dream, I started to call her and expose my love and desire. But, I’ve been there and done that. If by any realization of reconciliation, it must be done face to face. In this digital age, it’s so easy to communicate; but it does not engage anything. Face to Face allows full emotion, and for details to paint themselves. When my money has grown in the fullness of time there lays the edge to make this land FIT for us. A place where we can come together in romance not be coming off the edge of small things. Being at a place that is shy to the motions of enlargement; which always seemed to embarrass us.

I haven’t visited any social sites pertaining to her name. Instagram being the exception as we share common friends, but I haven’t written to her in the solitude of my chants. Neither has she. I realize if the time and space will come, it will then be under the God-given ability of action. Writing this now has really welcomed me into peace. I feel so much better just reminiscing about the truth of my dreams. I hope all of you out there, can count the reflections of love in the summary of your desires. Don’t ever feel like a remote. You can program the destination you want to go. It often takes two, but before one is added  You can still pronounce ‘Mono Realities’. Sometimes in the solitude, you feel the haunt and taunt. Billy Holiday told the truth in this:

‘In My Solitude’

In my solitude, you haunt me

With reveries of days gone by

In my solitude, you taunt me
With memories that never die

I sit in my chair
Filled with despair
Nobody could be so sad
With gloom everywhere
I sit and I stare
I know that I’ll soon go mad

In my solitude
I’m praying
Dear Lord above
Send back my love”

When the world is sleeping, I hear the memories. When everyone is gone, and no one to talk to me. I do sit and stare..going mad! LOL. But I know the solitude days are only given when one loses focus on the motions of changing for a season. Prayer always keeps me in fellowship with my spirit and God. Say what you want about prayer; the reason we pray is to be intimate with the creator. I don’t pray out of just desperation. I’m not the one to look up to the sky when something is going wrong. I pray because of identification within the struggle. I have one to listen, and that one knows what it is I am going through. 

I’ll be OK, in fact, I am going to start working sometime soon. It’s been rough finding in employment being that its summer and 100+ degrees outside. It’s 107F’ now. Crazy! However, I will make my money and move out of these walls. The time is sooner than ever, especially considering the small occupations that have now been made available.  I won’t entertain the physicality or even the notion of a flirt; so many have done that before, but the planets which orbit around the sun have made their existence known by the looking into the telescope. Now we can see through the money and perseverance due to the eager want to leave. AND I will leave…AND You’re gonna See me!

Summarized Notion For Thought: I realize that the message I hear, are futuristic imaginations of reality. This is only for a little while, but in this land, I am a giant and my kiss is Mono. The chaos is only in the anticipation of arrival.Image