Bitmap not Vector

taking in deep breaths and breathing deeply, no regret. remembering that you are at peace and peace does not resist. peace permits the wind to take you away. maybe let it tease you. maybe let it breeze you. but find shelter and stick up for your ways. the days when you were young are no longer but you are here and sung. loudly from the mountain tops of liberty. i am. my opinion matters. it is not shattered upon the deaf. it is only unsung to the bereft.

years of sleeping and weeping and watching. dressing up in black clothing for more mourning. realizing there is no age. there is no sage. there is no one, one. no years of politics that will make you know this. sow this. this is a heart thing. not a mind thing. this comes from sweeping and mopping floors. weed whacking and stacking lumber for chores. back sore. hands building calluses of time. flesh thickening. feet sticking to the concrete you just poured.

the pizza deliveries. the bad tips. the unequipped. all shapes and forms. all ages alarmed. that the lesson is continuous. there is no ending to your opinion. no wisdom in the ending. i have stood at the sink hole and seen that there is no hole in the hole. no ya’ll in the you all. no ain’t in the isn’t. no pain in the intermittent. for pain is a waxing waining movement of lack of pleasure. a seizure between your leisure.

most of all, and to this I wish you to listen. once you have let go. emotionally and physically. there is no prison that can hold you. for you are no longer here. you have peered into the darkness and seen only light and you have no more fight. only truth. for the letting go is a powerful might. that needs no job title. that needs no office view. that needs no substance to find wealth. it’s a stealth that hits you. finely tuned vortex. bitmap not vector. a timeless sector. unlimited megapixels of your true reality.

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