Dreams and Reality

It often rains, but not tonight.
The silence is filled, it’s quite late.
So many answers that lie dormant.
So many questions awakening.

On the other side of the window, I notice depression.
But in this mythical instant, such a beautiful acceleration
Of thought, mystical intensification
Supposed rewarded without offset.
Arrange in cadence.
Restart.
Lineage.
Posterity.

Insomnia: full state of agitation. High. Middle of the night.
Then, I meditate on the rest which spread.

A tip, friend, follows the thread.
Shakes the flight of ideas.
In your eye, remove the eyelash.
See this: I’m all powerful here, serene.
I fear that you can’t prevent me from behaving as a martyr.
Those who do nothing always have easy criticism.

You don’t risk to follow my action the nose stuck to your television.
I admire them jubilating on my fertile island.
I begin the ascent with passion.
Are we in a mercantile line?