The sensible decisions are carried away with the paint brush scared by deception and lies. A filth that plays into our untapped understanding of void.
It carries in measured droplets without showing the bigger picture. It voids one of all truth. Creating a unnecessary tier of dreams that lure us into using void for the fulfilment of tiny perceived experiences.
We are constantly using fingers to measure our lives. Tending towards the immediate teething problems that cast shadows on the true void.
We tape up our judgements based on the manner and tone rather than the intent. Lost is the natural grip of judgment to cover over void.
The balance of void transcends the basis. The basis that overcomes the void. The void that trips you up, its aluring contraptions. The contraptions that trick the best into the tornado. The tornado seen as silent seen as one’s trueself.
Halmat Ferello © 2015