Cymbal sings backward and the days fly by falling through a hole in the calendar marked with days gone by and forgotten hours collapsing through my brain. And this is the most sane dream I've had today. The space swirls through me and into you as the stars burst through eyelids and the cosmos melt your skin. And as the spaceships collide inside your large intestines ask yourself this: was it all worth it? Do these memories surprise you? Are these memories manifestations or the other way around? Can you un-curse yourself and float in a sea of glistening shimmering glimmering crystal clear?
I know what the words mean not in this order. Maybe that is the definition of freedom.
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