Yearning for the scent of the feminine,
Her arched feet and delicate angelic toes,
Breaths and high pitched melodies of moans,
The scent of cleanly natural manly musk & colon and sweat,
Semen of the sensual,
Fulfilling your spirit, bringing your heart nearer,
To that which Created you,
and loves you as I wish to.
as I dine on you from behind, and inhale.
the world, the universe, nature, existence, essence, humanity, spirit, spiritualism, spiritism, freedom, sexuality, women, liberalism, individualism, democracy, oneness, spirit, self-made delusion, vanity, ignorance, arrogance, philosophy, beauty, art, poetry, literature, writing, journalism, political philosophy, fear, taboo, conservative, new, evolution, revolution, change, oneness, monotheism, beginning, end.
They used fear long enough to control us. Now that we know we aren’t wrong, we can stand up for ourselves. No need to be scared, p***ies.
Imagine a world where you can be free and do whatever you want to do, and you be as happy as possible. How would that world be different from the real world?
Sex, drugs, vulgarity, honesty, bluntness…why are all of these things taboo? Is there such a thing as too much freedom, or is that fear talking?
I think it is a mixture of fear, insecurity, jealousy, shame and pride.
Some people want to succeed.
Others want to be flawless and make others inferior.
It is a war between equality and insecurity, freedom and tyranny,
triumph and jealousy.
I can’t help that I am who I am,
A writer, a poet, an artist, a baby,
a crier who cries,
sheds tears like lies,
oh what contradiction you are —
a giant surprise!
look in his eyes,
water will form,
smiles will swarm
and turn all those leaves like a storm,
for believe me he’s tough,
tough as his faith,
difficult as can be,
almost impenetrable —
it’s a blessing he fears the Lord.
Sometimes I wonder what infinite is,
And why I ever limited myself.
My friends are not friends,
I don’t care for them a bit.
I want to succeed, I want to prevail,
In my way and in my fashion.
I fear I am wrong,
My conscience eats me,
But when will I be free?
I don’t care for social progress,
I don’t care for the glory,
I care for being me,
Satisfying my spirit,
Satisfying my vanities,
And being the expression God intended me to be.
I want to be free.
I admit to mine, and I’m just fine, to me.