August 21st 2017

 I am sick to death, when I look into the crystal ball that telegraphs my promising past, only to see persons of a lesser character cheating their existence. It makes me wonder what it meant at that time, when my brain connected to my image circuitry. I find it invasive by my standards formulated over a period of time, the same ominous figures that grew apart from me, grew apart for a reason which now exists as fluidly as it does. I see how much has changed in a stretching out of memory, it is not the memory that has changed... it's the substance. When I crash landed from this trip of my personal psychology, I was best aware. That the counterparts, related to my psychic knowledge of independence and what would become of strangers who were a revealing part of my peer group. I see so many faces. And of those faces, I come face to face with what I truly feel. And to be equally responsible for what they remind me of today.

Today, I am a well noted leftist in that my political lines stem from a Humanitarian art.

And it is in some weird confusion of this, that I see faces from my past as little clue to what they are at present. I see no one who is a relic made of a particular irony. Where anyone who had the gall to make believe even for a minute they could trust themselves in a style all their own. A type of eccentric disguise. Where tricks of the mind are not played but confessed.

Where on earth has the time gone where all the faces and names to those faces became something greater or etched in stone.

I am speaking of an atonement, a balance of riches between what you thought you would become and what you know you actually were that was going to be your downfall. My point here is simple: that no one ever thought of me the way I probably wanted. At that time being so evasive albeit was my adolescent desire to hope for dreams to be made and that dreaming was a desirability of us all. But I have never intended to meet such little substance over such a large framework of time. That the faces and names who I once needed validation all vanished into a heap of ashes.

So, so - here I am. Today, readying for a form of ultimate experience. To live my life as an art form. Something so abstract, it comes across as silently psychotic. Like all the names and faces placed in front of me and what they are now. Quite frankly, they're all just sad disappointments. Frauds. Some are financially wiser in chasing their free market abundance. I come across like a turtle with a straw stuck up its nostril. I guess which I would rather be.

It's all a matter of putting into perspective a precipice of how emotional I am and recognize the truth in what makes me human.

Unfortunately, only hearts that burn an incandescent light remain, and I shall be their victor. But they would never have imagined it!

I have been unconsciously programmed to betray my better awareness. All the faces and names that I came across, have failed to see me for what I have ever thought, would be my downfall? But I say: fuck that nonsense. The faces and names I took. I mean I never took for granted. I did not become what I am today because of it. I am probably crossed off the list of names and faces, that I presume may have been stuck in the traces of this narrative.

Between being loved or accepted for who I am, I am not saying I don't believe I made part of names and faces. I am telling myself out of honesty that my awareness is compelling evidence of what is true to my soul. And let's be honest in that the names and faces in life become lost in a ship toward the stars underneath. My body is this vessel of uncarved magic.

I am a dreamer of names and faces. That is all I ever have been.