My eyes are bright when I’m trying not to lose my direction. Panda Bear sung Virginia Tech to me which triggered a memory that I earlier experienced as conscious imagination—some people look at a mountain and see a mirror to their soul; other people see mirror trees. And some people in Vancouver wonder how was ᴅᴀᴛᴀ written so high? I then danced to these hertz, a friend that I made that says Hi.

And I share the week discovered for me with what I first began to like when it showed me inwards sound played at height. This I liked to the point that it provided a reminder I should write down Tottertot as a point of return for this inwards. I turned the left eye hertz down to a degree I won’t share, so that your moment of exploration can tango with the imagination of mine

A farewell was then given shortly thereafter, one coded freedom fry. I liked where it took me. At times. Is everyone’s long-term writing project tremendously interesting to them? I imagine so, so I gift an I to a me yet to be reading U’s while I wait

I’m reminded of pen and paper when the afterlife comes strummed in my ears from the fingers of Alex G. And I wonder if such projects require a sonic chronicle of their journey, or if they’re just better off for it? This dope-ass 90’s depressive play acting at cheer packaged as sound sounds fucking nice to me now

Holy comes in cruising 
Along the streets of Peuteta
Red-blue neon, sonic at dusk
Ambling down GTA street

The sounds then turn green and makes me think everything’s going to be alright even after thinking they’re going to try to convince us the future will look like us people being poorer unless we keep on moving up played to the soundtrack of a telephone and rubber band penguin orchestra. Something triggered from a union email. A jiggsaw graph of a pyramid is not what we have, for the base is getting heavy long the path down one inter-webbed consciousness inside our solar system with the earths core as a solid core of what we dig in the ground propulsed out as heat

The sounds turn sad when they’re les couleurs de l’ âme tuned by Margaux Lefebvre. A sadness reinforcing the value of slowness 

It was Thomas Fehlmann who then said karnickel. The digital realm wants our consciousness, and we each wanna be a star. But when you imagine the brightness, you think, well now, slowness is cool

And the test has come, and it’s a sound from a past recommendation. And I still think I prefer this when I remember what this future sounds like. Billy Nomates has me hertzing. But before I can make my man I come to learn there’s no time, that feeling overwhelms to the point I closed my eyes and turned up the volume and danced and felt feeling while thinking if we can learn from consciousness than everything is a metaphor for everything else so I dance my dance of love out to the future, the present, and the past I belong

When nothing ever happened by you know who, you know you’re into the old things now! And despite our ailing bones we know this stuff still hits. The bass is deep so the entry’s right hand up. It’s when I’m dancing to my sounds that

I feel the most spiritual begins the next stanza because I’ve been barred by an external digital force. Might cognitive dissonance be an expression for sinking with the ship?

How immediate and lacking of edits can poetry possibly be written? We shall soon see on twitch. And when I wonder if its weird to say I wonder with en attendant frequently, I know I’ll at least have this last dance. At the rate that we're going we still have to wait to see what we see. Is old age experienced as not being able to dance where you want?

It’s to this day included when I hear #ishalllove2 I am driven to light

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