Passenger

A moment of your time do you allow me to explore? For if you believe in such concepts as time, please step closer. Fell free to feel free. There are no permanent places so do not fear your exit.

There burns a spring time fire beside the music man. They chant from the aisles for this godly sound. Have you heard his story in the air? Vibration high.

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A hollow earth, we mysticize the core out of existence. What do we know for sure, if not, what we knew before we did (in fact) not know. A factual existence.

The bird and the wire of the back garden make for reality. I did not imagine the road at my door, my imagination is the continuation of another's reality. Transmissible just by thought I then appeared to believe there was in fact a road. A road that previously had not been. My reality then too became, as stories of this road flooded from thought to speech.

Oh close thine eyes and block thine ears, these tales are blasphemy. Mere contradictions to your illusion, do you not hear the calls of the parade from afar? Listen!

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“ We'll have none of that here ” she said

No, we will have one of that weakness here. In fact no free behavior of any sort, unless sedated, let's sit on the chairs of hounds, gnawed . No, we'll have no illusions here, we will have calm through blindness.

Let the mighty hand of mirrors, mask the crowds and path the The words of your reality have interrupted my thought.

But I pursue the trail on this map, i am reminded of truth. Please release the chains that bind us to these illusions, unattached, so we can run the full length of this galleon.

A sailors world of words.

The road thus became a sea and we sail precariously on the brow of the earth. If you sit still enough, you can see her breathing

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