The Pervasive Love. The Eternal. The thing, which is of itself understood not but we learn. I still chase her.. Love.. I still chaser her with most of my thoughts.

Never doubt my love. 

The few who know love know love.. but few really know love. 

Things come and go. Presidents, nations, beliefs, gods, and men's beliefs.. I keep an open mind.. Love that is real never dies, and no borders, miles, minions nor Oscar Wilde's dreams could ever change real love it seems. I've followed many pretty things all my life, but I don't regret them. Never. Since they always made things worth the trip.. No matter where, or no matter when each love I experienced was worth the time off from the thoughts and dreams.. I need not a religion, nor the Pater Nostre's glean of poor advice since it seems quite misplaced under the Buildings they deem to show Archie's bunker, or where house of things... whatever.. I never really pay attention much unless its Her.. The hims never interest me much, and no matter how hard I try to understand them, all the sympathy I can muster in my very being is really only for mothers, and mothers to be..

Because love is female to me.. Men either learn it from their Mom's or they don't and those of us who didn't learn it the best since we learn it from the rest, the woman who still have not been granted the equal dignity of men.. And its still past due. Why things are this way? That love is such a scarce commodity still these days, and when abundance comes from natures cup why so many still can't see through the mirage of false loves. The mirage of clowns seeming fierce but not much it seems not much but images of beings caught above and below ground..

So I watch. I watch a lot.. and the more i learn the more I learn to Love HER, and the many Aspects of Her.. The divine Feminine.. the Liberty of which we sing... the shining light above our nation, which can never be extinguished nor dimmed amid the illusions of conflicts, and temporal suffering of time's last grip.. Sweet time, the under belly of lies.. Time.. Never love. For love is timeless, and real while time is only matter of fact noticed when Love is lost in the dust or caught in a clock.. watched by the lonely in quite anguish till love rocks them into no longer thinking at all.

SO love starts when Time stops. I guess when Death happens love begins.. Like Nirvana where we are Death life state of being or the after life plane... I think that's where I exist somewhere after life but not death.. its an in between state, but I can love now, and before It was just another learning thing...

The many objects can never make the love we have which is to create... that's love. To love to create.. is the love we can't shake.. its the real love.. to make. 

To make the forms, the objects, the stories, the things of the world.. the love we share is to create.. and we aren't happy unless we are creating, and that is both sexual and material.. of course the first is temporal, and it should be.


With Love, and light.. shine, and play neither big nor small since that's just a perception of scale another time created false thing.