Troubles not foreseen.
It will surface as though,
a lifetime were spent conducting our own scenic symphony.
But then again,
who is to say,
that what seems…
are artless creatures of our dreams.
I am the sort to find no difference between a
The sisterhood of blocks made in mortar and misery.
The elusive nature of things…
A hallucinogenic with never-ending complications…
Of who I am?
What I see?
And, what it means to just be.