from bed

direct transmission 

it’s all been weighed before we pull the two ton three tone trigger a hair line fracture hurts like a son of a gun it was you my sweet roll that left us undone sitting while we ravage the building of our past peace practices put into place so that we never erase the lessons forced upon us we just crawled out from under that rock the shade cold and quiet humility hoisted on people for their complacency rise up and listen it starts next door that is your mission we’re not removed and there still is time to hold hands again in our supermarket line and let’s see ourselves the manifestation of thought okay it with that kid in the parking lot look both ways reach out and see that we are all becoming the sea. Change. 

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