I can admit, I am a bit fearful of the essentialism, of success, the necessary need of such state, as holistic as this campaign will seem, the end vote, is to produce as much offerings, in order to send thankful anecdotes to the divinity, that has designed, me to reach this state of masterful artistry. The more, I invent, the more I speak life into, innovation, the more my focus deteriorates, conquering the feelings of doing it all, you know, the measure, of beginning, a story of endless details, the mogul’s dictatorship, the artist’s mental assault, the morbid, capsule of hope, repressed love. The stream of consciousness, I once knew, you have found extreme security and transparency to see another’s heart so clear and the visibility, of us, the visibility of this. I am, what you may call a bard, the composer, of these fine tales, that confuse your reality of what I serve for manifestation.The love of others causes them to, introduce me to, minute factors of murder, spiritual murder. Before you take this drug, you should know what its, molecular discretion and the after effects are, will you ever come back, will you ever be the same, leaving it all to your escape, this is what, I call the, hitch. The trap, of energy, the only thing, I know thus far, I have been, claiming glory, for so long, the feeling of possessing so, again is arriving and these intentions, may confuse you, but please just stay. Alone if ever, together, with your memories and tears of, forgetfulness, love me more than you love hate, because your infatuation with distaste will never surpass your lust of, conquering our demise.