No More Bellies Showing or Pants Askew

I am positioned in a space where people are around me, but separate from my identity in a way. I move to similar places every day, and I deal with bad dreams at night. There is a heaviness that makes it very difficult to create every day. I feel my supreme entity close to me, and he is trying to understand the skemes around me. Dreams drop away to a man with a cotton piece of fabric over his face. The people of every day are too offensive to me. I balance and see the light pour through for a few moments at least. I write through the maze and commit to the idea that nothing else matters. The askew is all of you. HE is right in the balanced view and he sees all men as enemy today. There are too many of you, and too little commitment to anything of authority. Satanistic triangles are about to come crashing down and you will all "poor me" sexual baby, sit there in your own feces. Why would he want to be a part of you? You have no intelligence and no wit. Me hugging a tree is loving comedy, a type of wizardry, and all you do is bitter bitter make fun of me. Oh well, the tree feels good and is now committed to keeping the air clean for me and only me. Your cruelties next to my supreme being are nothing, and I have survived it all with an open heart and compassion for his retardation. I love him dearly, and now his ring to me is JESTER for a new line of Masonry without satanistic tendancies. Day in, day out, I will pick the white male crew, but for me, it is just HE in this vicnity.