Being the Bird in the Tree

Pourquoi n'es pas vois ecrit une livre? Parsque je voidrais mon privacy. It all comes out in the wash. I just move through and the anxious energy of those in vicinity. Today Caribbou feels like a masterful international school. The class is the faces with whites tunnelled through. I am just here with my Lakeshore blend dripping from the down pour outside. It seems like there is nothing to say, but the energy is high today. People are reading in an instant, and I become quiet and walk away. I have had such fear to share. All systems of first ammendment cracking domination have pummelled me daily. The scenes are horrific, and the times are tough. I stay away from the black puritan bonnets from my dream last night. Judgement is not judgement. It is just cruelty and abuse. The system is now in play, and it can come your way any day. People are listening in a quiet way, but action is not to be in seemingly this century. I am weaving words in front of me, but I have no theory to present. I am high on a chair, and there is no mercy to my back. Pain is part of the basket I am making for free. Little fireflies now welcome me to see the storms in the vicinity. It is not calm that anyone is trying to insure, it is devisive effects on community of singularity. Hindus now see their rarity to stay separate with family. Today I give them the honor of a curtsy, and move along at a brisk pace.