improvising in writing is what I'm doing at the moment. life is nothing comparing to the real life I thought it must be. this is my feeling leaking out of the damn mind sometimes leading me to a stage in which I don't like to be in society. success is not what I'm thinking it should be. it's far away from the leakage of the damn mind and it should be understood.
wings of desire, take me to the far away land without steel, without society, without customs, with the sky is blue and the land is not cemented, with the field is green and the birds singing red always. this is a feeling of vomit. periodic feeling of being inside the self. caves have always been a shelter having this feeling. by the way, I defined the success in an alternate way boarded on the wings of desire. this reminds me of scorpions winds of change. that sometimes take me to the magic of the moment, where the children of tomorrow dream away. yep that is another definition of heading forward or you say success or I say going far.
happy of being not like one trapped on the bed, injections on their veins, solitary abroad. happy of not being deep down beneath the majority of the damn society. happy of having ones who care for you. happy of being helpful sometimes. happy of doing good overall based on a self-defined criteria of good n evil. that also can be beneficial. happy not dejected. happy of having courage to do something they can't. happy not upset. yeah that's improvising I used to do when I was younger.. take it as granted my friend. take it it's yours.
cherish for the blue dot on which you got the yang.
Regards
Psyche
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