I'll make my way out of the labyrinth

Inspired by Firewind

Dutifully, I searched for a band starting with the name and, rather, the letter D. Stream-of-consciousness makes me feel like I must keep going forwards, but the lack of english of the anglo kind makes it difficult for me to feel safe online - and offline - any more. Speaking, I mean, writing of/about mores, I am questioning my choice to stick to a sociological inquiry of society.

A clerical use of paragraphical grammar makes it easy for me to claim that I know how to write. I refuse to cite sounds. I refuse to cite sights. I refuse to cite optics, and I refuse to cite memory. How will Broca's area survive the lattice?

Find out next time on another renaming of A kaleidoughscope of writings, the first time, ladies and gentlemen (now it gets difficult), that I refuse to bow down to people that sound like machines.

No more pretending to be a king, no more princes then.

Give yourself up

Only positive things!
Fire and faerie, it’s awesome to be in a 2019 society.
The music is practically free when you take the time to find and appreciate its artistry, and I have access to safe medicinal plants. It’s gratifying being here and appreciating what I live with.

I make chocolate. It’s great: I buy it, and then I add coconut oil, and then I freeze it. It’s calming and grounding to craft time up in the kitchen, the beautiful place where I live to eat, and the chocolate turns out great because I spend time thinking about what I am doing in said kitchen.

I had a good day with a good amount of sunshine. With less yelling, I can listen with softer ears.

Too much tiletwitch

You know what? I’ll just insert some random pic to enable a return to the past in the future. Am I tired of writing, am I exhausted, or am I captivated too often by the bright lights? All good questions worthy of their own time limits, I suppose.