There is a Magic trick to Win the War

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There is a magic trick to win the war

If we are looking at the beauty 

we are free 

If we are looking at war

we are not

because nothing else exists

Like a magic trick

There are lines between

but to live away from the horror we see

― it is not the horror that sees the lines between

Towards the life of being content

With it and the self in the measure of experience

Not only is beauty within each other

The beauty is higher and lives in horror

In the emptiness of contained beauty

Sometimes it starts with the wind 

We needed no more than the feel of it

Because if we don’t 

we never will 

be grateful for the time

You in the dead of time don’t let me decide

I look at you now as the war has started in your eyes of fickled beauty. In the way, you think the world concerns around you and now I am involved. You decide and I will fight you by all means. 

That you don’t get to decide.  

But, you say to me and I say but, don’t say that to me. But you say to me. You’re doing better. Better you say to me. Just to let me know what you think. But I say to you. You are not my first war and you measure the good I do from what? – a war.  

What a replicate it for you

You go to that or this war and you come back and tell me how good you are doing now. 

I come and tell you later, how much better you are doing now. In my opinion. I don’t care how you feel, I take my pride in not being blind ― I can see the war.

I talk to you like the war never happened, even though it is all I can see.

The war never ends ― so it is just a matter of time when the next will be. We are the food for fuck sake– lack of entertainment ― simply here to die by opinions of how it all is. The way of the world and racism. 

No secret it is now

The secret to war is simple. It is now. Good or better it isn’t. My life is a war and I fight you with all because I love it. The war ― the beauty. I have no idea of becoming of more. Your more, if it is not mine to love it as life now. 

Now is love and if it isn’t, it isn’t. 

Window wind

Today I went out in the back yard 

Thinking one thing should be said about me- I dug my own grave ― so you didn’t have to.

Then it happened- the unexpected

I got pushed into it The wind

Like I wanted It


It wasn’t just the wind you didn’t see. It was the future. We rather dig your grave when it comes time, but we can not do your solar job for you. What you do best is your own. 

When the wind is no longer there to see us through the times. We need the spirit of our own divine, to go beyond time as it will find the wind back into our own feel of the times again. 

What we otherwise lose the spirit to find. 

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