|May my death be as uncomfortable as my life.
||[Mar. 18th, 2017|12:43 am]
Look not unto my face and know not your own pain, your own broken moments the frailty you have experienced. The lies you tell yourself in fear and false concience are incredibly deceptive, false narratives of worlds you said did not exist but you knew did.|
Wondering the answers to questions to answers you already knew.
Is it shame that denies you your truth, fear, visciousness?
Is it something else?
Compassion can be a fire, compassion has a will of it's own.
Feelings becoming beings living through people as their own avatars.
Ideas permeating people unaware of their reality.
Illusions can hurt you.