In an empty sky, you can never tell what’s in focus.
I’ve got hormetic stress, a paintbrush in ice.
We can always leave if you’d like to.
Have a small plot of new land at all times.
A pipe dream on demand. It’s a lifeline.
It’s the taste of honeysuckle from all of my once-rational fears.
Identity molting in the sun. I was wrong.
Dreams and reality will trap you if you choose only one.
It’s a lifeline.
You can only mourn surprises.
Pause, start breathing, sit and know that you are breathing in.
There’re endless lives for endless dreams, just keep one foot in each. Sisyphus pushing a boulder downstream.
Find the air on your skin;
the sound of the pavement as you walk over it.
You can only mourn surprises.
Safe from your hopes; distracted by life.
You can only mourn surprises.
Daily focus-training coupled with strong work ethics pointed toward making life more bearable for others, could turn around this age for the better. This album is beautiful. A force for good. CHOSEN