yea

limra

me: yea.. the revolution happenin, bull**** on a computer, **** the rituals, the flow, no one knows but i dont hide anything... jesus came back, he was aa plush toy... a friend i knew long ago Sent at 2:51 PM on Sunday

me: ive got the green, the fairies dream at me... i walk around in all kinds of poetry, a voice, a voice, it all coming up around you, thats wanti, thats the yomo, friends, spiritual warriors, peaceful styles, there is no east of west in christ, there aint no distinction in extinction
the system comes we **** it up again

Sent at 2:53 PM on Sunday

me: we gotta grow up so we can be free, grow up from ideas of one way to be... punk rock is flowers growing from dirty toes, and a sunset, thats wierd and offcentered, and no one notices because they are so stoned

Sent at 2:55 PM on Sunday

me: punk rock is the yomo, my grandma, with the love of the world... protects me from the bull****, though its like a coma i fall through... is it zen that got me so stiff up, and everything, no cohesion, stupid feng shui, stupid shamans, herbal condoms, no need no need, get out of my town, if you cant put down a wild hearted seed

Sent at 2:57 PM on Sunday

me: we smoke all the weed that grows, flo is like the poconos, false people everywhere, trying to say they are this and that, this world view is a fake id, wanti cuts through that, infinite love comes close to us, fairies are our friends and such, cast a spell in the old shed there, cast it on the fake bear, trying to rape us with his failures, living a lie... set it free, every tree trunk is a sweat lodge, old tribe trails in this small grove, lets get drunk and watch the stars collapse, let words fall like little rainbows, they all have fallen to the system, are they gonna rise again? **** it, like a rock caught between, a flower in the desert, smiling, like a mirage, you can eat... they stop above, but they are fake, confused and stupid, the shroom has wisdom for so many days, surf and blaze, growing hippie ways..

Sent at 3:02 PM on Sunday

me: in all my heart, the swamp out, the path comes through, love gentle things, the seeds, the birds, the rain, like an elixir, that unties the sticks, turns off the radios, hides in the voices and puts smiles in the hearts, is that jesus? sometimes i wonder, such an old spirit come to blunder with us, berserkers of winkte might here in the circles of life and light, hakuna matata, growing in the woods, they pull nothing out, they are our true homes, our spirits go there, after the tide swells, when love really happens... i love music i love to dance, this is no game, though its a curse of a trance, no one gets it, stupid chi moves, we blow them back from wanti, healing wind, life air medicine

the buddha.. is a seed man, a seed man, true living life, jesus is a spirit, of many buddhas

group hugs are like waterfalls falling into my belly

Asiaprod

limra wrote: »

me: we smoke all the weed that grows, flo is like the poconos, false people everywhere, trying to say they are this and that, this world view is a fake ...

Limra, I suspect enlightenment is happening in different ways here.
You are very welcome to post here, but not in this fashion. You have been doing this all over the associated forms here. Please cool it down and engage in debate. I really do not like to ban people unless I have to. Take this as a final warning.