Dawned on Me

You get input, no stamina, no result, in time. You conclude that money is choices, rising into yourself, is subjection. The colliding forces, good or bad, result in you, making method. A bill comes in via text, whiskey tastes bad, cigarettes by the 30, fools fighting on-line. You need some package, some voice, a chore is no worry, if done at will.


Author: leeethomas

Visual Artist, musician and writer from Australia. Interested in Love and the Mind.

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