The joy of painting
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Change the dream of your people. Human bein’s by nature aren’t evil. Real apex predators’ part of the food chain. Choose-to-change roles. Apex healers soothe pain.

Grades are constructs. Age is a number. Covid broke summer break out of its slumber.

Change the dream of your people. Pick up a paint brush. Pick up a mic. Stay in touch when pain gush.

Unfor, tunately ain't much way we win in a gun war. Conjure space where friends/parents were once sure. Work with the sun’s core. Endure. Young lord, change the dream of your people by what means you can. The system’s inhuman. You know its true plan. Help people see through the money, see through the news stand. Ooo land ownership is not legitimate. You knew that already. Shifted a little bit to stay sane, same time shed innocence. So at one point you say, “How can I be less of a crippled kid?”

In my view, we need to act on dual realities: the one that’s the root of the truth; and the one wherein we win game we also know shall cease.

IDK who’s built to be both loving and cutthroat. The poet gut wrote stuff lightyears from what squares call mind-body connection. You’d have to be divided inside to make that weak-spined word-group selection.

If binaries must be, let’s say artists vs squares. Still a construct but ours works harder than theirs. Armchair quarterbacks horde their stacks. Harness their cares. To be seen, loved and connected to karmic repair. They’re scared of change because they are new to it. So don’t demand change on the face. Change can be fluid. Sometimes it’s all right to give up on adults who worked themselves stupid. Earholes are loopholes to make space with music. Well, here: Happy songs sell records. Sad songs sell beer. Any songs sell nothin. Love songs quell fear.

Change the dreams of your people to honor all sentience. Change the dreams of your people in a concert of presence. Change the dreams of your people to connect with wholeness. Connect the dream to one home or respect everyone’s homeless.