induced thoughts, write with the flow, right the flow, writing is flow.
Voice beaming, brights streaming, cop pulls us over, lights halfway there, hair and sun ray lairs, anger flooding my thoughts, commotion, content converting sensory experience from ear to eye, then tongue to hand. the red light firing from your heart through head is what I would imagine it would be to touch a ray of sunlight with bared finger: immortal creation.
the sky is a nailed cork board of cosmic rubber bands, slightly bumpy, floating along space ripples; that upside-down, larger-than-(literally)-life sea, bring your cosmic experience to me
the bridge that grows with trees. that bridge IS a tree that’s been growing in black and white. the bridge has taken one hundred and seventy nine years to grow. one more year and the final branch will connect my mind to my heart.
close your eyes and let your thoughts take you, that is my secret to happiness. one terrible unshareable secret.
O sol estava radiante. Ele brilhava ao alto de nossas cabeças, fazendo com que a gente se esquecesse tudo de ruim que ocorria em nossas vidas.
Provavelmente daqui há algumas horas não estaríamos juntos.
I’m Transferring my mind to this world of illusions, simply that someone see me there and believe that it is real, someone besides me, perfect someone.
Beaming with surprise about the anticipated snow, and the anticipated snow day. Beaming with delight at a day off a chance to play, stay inside and play and write and dream and enjoy and plan a trip to Paris and who knows, even clean the house, prepare for the speech contest, see my self beaming as I win each and every level of that contest and become the World Champion of Public Speaking 2014.
Every time someone comes up to me, i would be beaming their thoughts and vision to provoke them as they think about what they are about to say to me momentarily.
She beams like no other person I have ever met. On the outside, she is all darkness and shadows. She is hard shelled. But you can see who she really is from her eyes. Through her eyes, shines bright iridescent light. Lemon lime and fire engine red rays flooding out through those big round eyes. Sometimes the shine makes it down to her lips, and tugs out a smile for our world to see.
The admiration of his work made him feel a warmth inside. Similar to a first kiss. Or a drop of sunlight on a crisp autumn day. Or the feeling of joy that accompanies fulfilling a great life milestone.
The lights coming from your eyes are stunning. Watching them tear apart the world around you bit by bit. What an adventure it is to be your friend, to be near you. Others call you a threat and hide from your eyes but I just wait patiently until the day you look to me and destroy me with those eyes.
What a dream, did it beam into the smokey clouds of my subconscious from somewhere else, because it wasn’t me. It couldn’t have come from me. The images of morphing squiggles in the stardust, moving towards a glimmering amethyst supernova, the sounds radiating from my throat both in pleasure and in pain. What is my subconscious doing to me and how dare it leave me this way.
She was beaming, is this why people craved companionship so much, it was a high more than she could ever imagine. It had been hard work to get here, but now she wouldn’t change anything.
Lloyd was beaming at her with the bright teary eyes of a proud papa, but Hannah could only look at the diploma in her hands and think “fraud. You great fraud.”
induced thoughts, write with the flow, right the flow, writing is flow.
Voice beaming, brights streaming, cop pulls us over, lights halfway there, hair and sun ray lairs, anger flooding my thoughts, commotion, content converting sensory experience from ear to eye, then tongue to hand. the red light firing from your heart through head is what I would imagine it would be to touch a ray of sunlight with bared finger: immortal creation.
the sky is a nailed cork board of cosmic rubber bands, slightly bumpy, floating along space ripples; that upside-down, larger-than-(literally)-life sea, bring your cosmic experience to me
the bridge that grows with trees. that bridge IS a tree that’s been growing in black and white. the bridge has taken one hundred and seventy nine years to grow. one more year and the final branch will connect my mind to my heart.
close your eyes and let your thoughts take you, that is my secret to happiness. one terrible unshareable secret.
O sol estava radiante. Ele brilhava ao alto de nossas cabeças, fazendo com que a gente se esquecesse tudo de ruim que ocorria em nossas vidas.
Provavelmente daqui há algumas horas não estaríamos juntos.
I’m Transferring my mind to this world of illusions, simply that someone see me there and believe that it is real, someone besides me, perfect someone.
Beaming with surprise about the anticipated snow, and the anticipated snow day. Beaming with delight at a day off a chance to play, stay inside and play and write and dream and enjoy and plan a trip to Paris and who knows, even clean the house, prepare for the speech contest, see my self beaming as I win each and every level of that contest and become the World Champion of Public Speaking 2014.
She beamed at him, her young face radiant with love. Nothing could ruin her mood, she thought.
Every time someone comes up to me, i would be beaming their thoughts and vision to provoke them as they think about what they are about to say to me momentarily.
She beams like no other person I have ever met. On the outside, she is all darkness and shadows. She is hard shelled. But you can see who she really is from her eyes. Through her eyes, shines bright iridescent light. Lemon lime and fire engine red rays flooding out through those big round eyes. Sometimes the shine makes it down to her lips, and tugs out a smile for our world to see.
He had made this. It was his.
The admiration of his work made him feel a warmth inside. Similar to a first kiss. Or a drop of sunlight on a crisp autumn day. Or the feeling of joy that accompanies fulfilling a great life milestone.
He had made this. It was his.
It was now time to wipe.
The lights coming from your eyes are stunning. Watching them tear apart the world around you bit by bit. What an adventure it is to be your friend, to be near you. Others call you a threat and hide from your eyes but I just wait patiently until the day you look to me and destroy me with those eyes.
What a dream, did it beam into the smokey clouds of my subconscious from somewhere else, because it wasn’t me. It couldn’t have come from me. The images of morphing squiggles in the stardust, moving towards a glimmering amethyst supernova, the sounds radiating from my throat both in pleasure and in pain. What is my subconscious doing to me and how dare it leave me this way.
d
She was beaming, is this why people craved companionship so much, it was a high more than she could ever imagine. It had been hard work to get here, but now she wouldn’t change anything.
Lloyd was beaming at her with the bright teary eyes of a proud papa, but Hannah could only look at the diploma in her hands and think “fraud. You great fraud.”