The End Of The World As We Know It.

OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force - Podcast tekijän mukaan Skrillex

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Within the silence of solace and solitude, the Goddess awakens; as she rises from within her chamber, a blackened curse is broken—a new day is born, to let light live. Love reigns. Be it, a fleeting demon—met in the wandering eye of a man who love could not keep, but would always find—a wish, a whisper; Windblown kisses beneath the neck, and the eye that watches, waits, and knows not yet what lies in the wake of love. When I was younger, my mother would always tell me that she wasn't mine—she'd tell me over and over to the point that I would cry; and then she'd laugh, taunting me, and outwardly ask “why would you believe that? Of course I am your mother.” And oh, the joy my tears had often brought her—how my pain, turned pity would make me mourn, the child I never was. It's hard to see yourself When you become a different body All the eyes that look upon you Are so haunting And something miraculous has happened. Because this is is life I can't wait to leave it and I won't take it from myself again— But sometimes wish that another would So that the weight of the world would let go my soul At 11:44, A revelation— If only patiently I wait, The cause and purpose of life Will spring upon me; As I am here again, In the place of which The seeds of my dreams were planted and can now become trees; Not weeping willows but infinite redwood evergreens. Wanting is not needing As God Is, I am. And one day, this will all be a dream—and when you wake up to the light, you will forget yourself again. The longest ego death that ever was,“Never was.” But we're all culture vultures...Aren't we? There's some kind of madness In the outside world A shade of red begins to drift into the music of my Contagiousness of carelessness Hygiene is an option but The sickness of the nation Making victims out of men is Wondrous Peering at tops of pyramids Knowing that you built them And the “God” that you're addressing is the inside of your soul Wholesomeness is fleeting People only want attention and They'll take away your goodness If you let them take your time. What of the world's inside our minds What of the worlds we've created This is a universe all of your own Once you find your own center, you've made it. In a perfect world, we heal the sadness In another time, we all unite In another lifetime everyone is happy dancing In a perfect world, we see the light I sit upon a porcelain throne, Body broken And as silence fell about In the sunken chaotic jungle of treasured beauty, I awaited an answer to a question I never asked, but was told to wait for in a silent other language. I don't need to make wishes— They all come true. All my friends were with me that day The reason I fast and I pray Let's remember the love Always take that with you, The heavens will forgive you, Imperfections are only what make you a human. I see everything I need to see, End up everywhere I need to be Right on time Not always, but pretty much always All my days wasted playing games, All the same All my days wasted on fame? All the same One day I'll be famous (And that's what she asked for) One day I'll be famous (“Be careful what you wish for”) I told the child inside of me, Don't cry (No worries) I'm sorry (No sorries) For everything that I want, will come; And everything that I am— Will be. We're all not okay—okay? You reading me? I am. Reading you— Reading me— Reading you. Oh—you too? You two. No, you two. Who? Not the owl again— You should have gone to bed with your friends, This is the end again. Let's keep keeping secrets We're all not okay—okay? You reading me? I am. Reading you— Reading me— Reading you. Oh—you too? You two. No, you two. Who? Not the owl again— You should have gone to bed with your friends, This is the end again. Let's keep keeping secrets “I'll never repeat this.” I never said that. “I'll never repeat this.” I never said that. And none was lost, that day, but some found—I had cried with the child within, and heard the call of my spirit, which could not be forgotten—as she screamed in her fury and wondered her “why am I like this?” And soon she would know, because all again was one. And then she said, “how bad will it it be” “not bad,” said I “we have the key.” ‘And now I lay me down to sleep... I pray the lord my soul to keep— If I should die before I wake; I pray the lord, My soul to take.' “I work in the morning”, said I “Dumb girl”, said she—and then we laughed together, because we are as one. If only I were free to be I, alone, forgotten and at simple, eloquent peace. Loneliness is the devil's advocate--but solitude will bring one to certainty; When time is of the only aching ease, as forgiveness is not needed—you can only answer to yourself, and to yourself—the sureness of your being becoming whole in certain thought, forward motion—steady gravitation towards things you love, will create light. Love is an undeniable phenomena— More so than sound, sight; more than a feeling or knowing, even—it is an essence. It is not only in the heart that love is born, but in the entirety of most—but not all—consciousness. To learn to love is not only a condition of humanity, but a connection to the spirit and soul. —it is part of our purpose and presence to love—a blinding, however delicate piece of our nature. Love is more than just romance, relations with others—love is an element with which, acts as a thread woven into the fabric of our being in this reality. Simply stated, in fact—love is fact. Tikun Olam For I could not fathom to end my fast, before drifting into and wandering past realms unknown to the sleeping and dead— Who walk amongst life as though living wholly, Mouths agape and eyes amasked, absorbed in the world of phone. Blindfolds hiding a hateful and bloodshot third eye— I awake to the sound of a city to which I am anchored in spirit; Something awaits at the boardwalk, however, the writer's mind is readily waiting to work, Greedily consuming what little, precious time is left Of the freedom that lies in the true joy of temporary, blissful and, wishfully permanent joblessness. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

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