Blowing bubbles 

Mind is ruptured thinking slow thoughts 

So this is my destiny 

Could have been worse or could have been better just doesn't make sense anymore. 

I want to be a part of the resistance 

I feel the pains of our country with this monster at the helm. 

My mind has other plans of it's own demise. 

Blowing bubbles in my room. 

Alathe bubbles floated away. 

My mind drifts away, thinking about mom, missing her. 

Knowing that she was happy the last year of her life. 

Even that said, she wasn't planning on dying... 

I have seen those who wish to be dead and live on. 

The ones that want to live, well, they die. 

And well, there are those that don't much care either way. 

That wasn't mom.  She was happy being alive. 

She was eighty one.  Lived a good long life.  Always can be longer. 

Blowing bubbles in  my room... 

Dolly died. Went down  for three days and came out of it like  a trooper and then just died. 

It's fascinating to watch the staff go through all kinds of emotions and all kinds  of methods of not showing emotion. 

We will all miss Dolly 

We won't miss her husband. 

Ocourse  it  made me think of mom. 

As I blew bubbles in the hallway, 

Knowing it is forbidden  but It's a Saturday so fuck em. 

Blowing bubbles 

Blowing bubbles 

The bubbles are the overflow of life. 

The floating of ideas and concepts 

Lofty thoughts of love and peace 

it's true 

It's transcendental 

It is consciousness 

Once we see that the connection is to the infinite the infinite becomes a reality that can be thought of in finite terms. 

Blind roommate with his six year daughter 

Kidney recipient that the replacement didn't go well 

Thirty something 

Something heart wrenching about it all 

Brings so much to the surface 

Has to be looked at and can't take your eyes off the scene. 

An error in comedies 

The warrior wears no clothes 

Because they refuse to carry his  name. 

Don't you let that deal go down. 

Phish radio makes me want to get high. 

Actually getting high makes  me want to get high. 

She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your spirit and she cut your hair singing hallelujah 

Oh how I blow my bubbles hallelujah 

Oh how I blow my bubbles hallelujah 

Ya see we live in a bubble of life here at the home. 

The real world is in a separate bubble and passions and desires are all in their own bubbles and we float watching, looking, desiring oh and floating. 

And so .... 

Views: 56

Comment by Jonathan Wolfman on April 1, 2017 at 4:05pm


Comment by J.P. Hart on April 1, 2017 at 6:02pm

Mocoa Columbia?

How say ye, MT Cheeseman?

Gotta get relief pronto....

Hail Mary, full of grace ....


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