Ottermon, Yes you are. 
Oak-lea, Intersting name.
Innocents was a great struggle. From aloft, I am the divine monkey floating through pink clouds in a green row boat. Timelessly, I am, adrift in a chaotic cosmic sea of illusion.
I imagine I took the right path as I follow each resending step stone into a more distant unknown future. Under the mystical moon shining over the holy mountain of earthly challenges, I rest below the cold surface of the emotionally barren desert sands eating wild turkey soup from a can.
All the while Gluttony consumes all that matters.
As I lay not yet formed I ponder the ignorance and evil in my own bewildered soul. This human condition is blindly deceived by the blood red cans of toxic wasteful green greed spilling endlessly across the land. In reflection a trouble heart can not but see how pitiful humans have removed their inhumanity from popular and proper perception. Yet love matters not.
Human Love per chance, a gambler slaying love by divine rule, alone and disillusioned the sorrow filled soul resends into the mountain of frozen emotions. In sorrow and remorse he abandons the path way of life, death, love and birth. He matters not.
From the door way of beginning consciousness, from concept to conclusion, the infinite watcher is always there. With out that Spirit of Self, Nothing matters.
Orange
Free Forum Hosting
Important Announcement
First 
Return to Paranormal
