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March 9, 2013
Should streams violate issues of skewed reality, the skittering, psychic morass, myriad crystalline shards of seeing the root of seeing after blindness grabs light by its belly and blows it heavenward, I would ride the currents readily, assign myself to the sacrifice demanded, give in to losing assurances of safety, allow the function of possible disaster rally its muscle to the meat of my endeavors and drive the ecstasy factor through the highest high and lowest low, thereby defining the manner in which love ascribes its mystery in my gravest throb that pulses toward the core of your sensual soul.