Soaking in a hot, refreshing candlelit bath as magnificent Hollie Smith pours her soul out to me and I listen with such passion and amazement. The gloomy light of the fiery candles relax my mind like nothing else can, with such silence. How can something sustain so much power yet it says nothing. Smell, touch, sound, sight, sense. Senses. We take advantage of these powerful senses: the greatness we should have is trod on into the sinking concrete of which we call earth. Such pleasure is portrayed through these gifts in which we have been given, yet they hold so much pain. As I write I think. I think of the world; of our sinking concrete earth. One has to change for people to change. One must lead for many to follow.
Humans are sheep. Flocks of sheep waiting for the pact to heard onto the next thing, or more, the next 'big thing'.
My mind is filled with such dignity, passion, such possibility, and creation. I myself need to relax and enjoy the beautiful and priceless senses of life that we were once so privileged to endure. I think of you. I think of only you.
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