This is what exists. Or, no, it don’t exist. Yes it does. It’s just like you and me talking right now. We’re talking? Inside and out. But where does it begin? Slowly. Slow as a drip in sunshine. What’s that ticking? Follow it closely, for this ticking doesn’t really happen. It’s something I’m thinking of? No, it’s a way of life. Is that you talking aloud? No, but let it go. Let it go? I ain’t holding on to it. Based freestyle? Not this, no. This is more of less. It’s all around what you’re into letting go. And not the notion of emotion, but more of a molecular ordeal. The freer you are, the more you’ll excrete and envelop. As if in an envelope? Sure, like absorbing an envelope, but not exactly. Then how? It’s projected into matter we can’t see. What matters? That you belong and never dwell; be on Earth, don’t fully absorb yourself with it. Reeling? Maybe. Maybe it’s like reeling Discrepancies through your GOLDYiP GP-500 and Richie’s cell phone signal fucking it up as he walks past. Nahh, I don’t listen to cassette tapes no more. That’s okay, just listen to this one and you should be good for an evolving dance party at the local grocery with the fellahs dancing in the isle and lights flickering, the noise of the fridges inside the beat but also around your ears and swallowing your psyche whole. Really?! Not really. But reely.
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