The Timelessness of Manifestation Manifesto

6:24PM; I was absolutely intrigued.

It felt so naturally freeing, somehow, to confine myself to pen and paper at this time. And so I found myself doing this quite often. (There was something far too artificial in electronic inscriptions). Meanwhile, I’ve been seeking more time to be alone with myself in between the days and weeks that pass by painfully fast and yet, excruciatingly slow. I watched as the Divine danced in rhythmic spirals upon silver eyes laced with marble, piercing menacingly at the constant void of time that is and isn’t mine. Simultaneously revised.

At a seconds glance, the eyes nearly stole all of my attention away, had it not been entirely fixed upon you. I don’t believe anything could have been more interesting to me than realizing the subtle thrill found in simply listening to your heart steady and skip beats to our favorite songs. The few I replay when you’re gone and the ones I wrote you this time last week.

Staying focused on the internal, the mission at hand remained one of very few sound motives. I thought so carelessly, and still I cared far too much. The breaks and gaps were filled with double takes on my automatic responses in which you longed for me to trust you. So we continued on finding blank space and forgotten words further from ourselves as we started to open up. Sometimes it wasn’t quite enough, but there was always room for us on the median. That is, of course, if you’d move over some. Although I didn’t mind much riding shotgun, the backseat even still remained more of a rush. “Back of the bus.” “That’s enough.” But here’s a tip in case you’re stuck; seek nothing and find the answers previously discussed. It may seem tough, and as for now we’ve accumulated no such luck. Well, who really gives a fuck? And what do all these riddles mean? Organizationally streamed, in preparation for “another methodical repeat” where we find ourselves leveled-out to again find peace. And what the Hell was I waiting for? Still, the release of self-expression was more so liberating than our last campfire, withholding flames in outlines of the tower. Although it wasn’t quite as euphoric as the first time, and very well may never be again. Lest we change the waves, so let our ways be the same. Allow ourselves one final break. Nothing short of cerebrally tame.


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