#onemindoneworld

Woo! Go Canada!

รักตัวเองมากขึ้น สุขภาพกายดี สุขภาพใจดี มีพลังพิทักษ์โลกด้วยใจบริสุทธิ์ สำรวมใจ สำรวมวาจา และสำรวมกาย เตรียมพร้อมไว้ กลั่นโลกให้ใส แล้วเราก็สุขไปด้วยกันเรียนฟรี คอร์สสมาธิออนไลน์ "กลั่นใจให้เป็นสุข https://glunjai.com/ มาเติมสุขให้ใจทุกวัน เติมวันละนิดจิตแจ่มใส

Hey!

The reality of fantasy

Bittersweet, seductive and apathetic

These lines surround us

These lines penetrate us

These lines destroy create seduce repulse us

The truth of these lines, is we are composed of lines upon lines.

Dots and dashes, dit dit dot, dit dot dash

In the fourth grade our songbird teacher posed a question, "Can you make a circle out of straight lines?"

I was the third to raise my hand, no. I have been wrong before and I will be wrong once more. I have been the wrong person and been in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong purpose. But I always learned

And any lesson learned make a mistake, the right thing to do

So we made circles out of lines and it was beautifully wrong and I hated that I loved that I was wrong because my mistake led to a piece of art I made by mistake.

So these lines that bind us melt us strip us down past the smallest part right down to the great nothing behind it all, they move in circles when we ask them to and circles go flat and we're left with lines

I love these lines

Not because they represent eternity or impending doom

Not because they make an ideal way to place my words and not because they show me where to draw

Goddamnit Miss I will not draw within the lines I will not follow your lesson plan because those are lines and your plans and I have created my own

No I love these lines because they are lines

What more need they be?

A line is just a line and I am just an endless system of lines complex and incomplete

But enough about me

Lets talk about you, or I guess you would say me

So let's talk about me

What is this fool talking about? Lines and colouring and I think he's on drugs.

But that's okay because this is my story and he's just writing it I'm the one reading it, it's my story, it belongs to me

You wrote this but now I'm reading it and I'm not quite certain what you wrote or what I'm reading but it's written and read upon lines and I think that's poetic.

Or maybe it's just gibberish