who have we decided to be in this life: happy magicians of a putrid unfolding destined to admit that the trees dance and we are nothing but the imagination of an extremely glossed ventriloquist.

if i know nothing other than the wind then i have wealth and will share this gold wih every wanderer
suit laden smoke, decaffeinated, i love you so much that i run from you so far into the forest that the dandelions have forgotten my scent.
this is the music we play and it is our string symphony taking the world to sleep. did you know that nothing else exists and that is the secret. period.