I spoke to the sturdy white birch tree today, or more like it spoke to me.

What a blight that has gripped my sensous self to allow myself to forget of such a source of wisdom

It's flakey peeling skin was warmer than the surrounding crisp air. Nov.26th. my increased flatulence attesting to thanksgivings grease and flesh still working its way out

i close my eyes and my technicolor artist is in heaven, this must be how my deeply rooted friend here sees the world; color, shape, movement, connection...i remember

There is such a spectrum of silver plated desires to tap into, at the price of instincts.

Is a yearning for acceptance not truly a need to aknowledge the elemental instinctual aspects of self!
Dammit! how did i forget