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My Flight to China

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  My Flight to China The transition from the static concrete of that waiting room to the pressurised cabin of this jetliner changes the entire physics of my wait. I’m no longer pacing floors or slouching into plastic seats; I've been sealed inside a capsule, and soon to be hurtling through the sky toward China. Now that I'm finally buckled in, my restlessness hasn't disappeared, but at least I’ll soon gain altitude. I look around and can see exactly how this emotional shift plays out in other lives. There is an initial sense of order and quiet relief. I see the neat rows of seats, the soft symmetry of the aisle, and the steady, reassuring presence of the flight attendant, offering the illusion of control. The ceiling washes into soft, atmospheric blues and teals. I imagine the sky outside. I can feel the collective breath of a hundred passengers all transitioning into the same forced pause. For a moment, my world feels structured, clean, and neatly aligned. I know the psych...

Napkin Art - Zombie Pebbles

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Never mind my bad breath Welcome to my house This place where I never did feel at home I'm rotted by the bad news stuff My assumptions are forever waiting  Never did I gain the skills to control this space It was not like this when I was young Once I wanted to depart and escape It looked so much fun to jump right in But it now seems a lost cause I'm medicated from day to night  Walking from pillar to post I'm rotted and want to be alone I'm buried under a ton of grief Hating for what I have become Never did I care  Never was I interested Never was I present  My story of loss This life of fear and apprehension

Celeste Luminous Transcendence

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Overwhelm our logic From personalized layers of interpretation Feared, worshiped, and misunderstood From folklore to fairy-tales my story circles Threatening, protecting and wilding This uncivilized self This authentic nature This warning This I don't know My predatory nature  My sweat sweat talk Something is not quite right I am the death of me Challenge me to confront Better ruined than dead In this dream of crazy sounds I fiercely seek shelter from ill wind from shackles from shame Distant callings Come back into the light from devastation to heartbreak

Napkin Art Table 33

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Restoration of the ideal The Liberatores Why, this is violence? Et tu, Brute? We are once again free

Celeste Full Moon

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Focus and concentrate and you will miss You will be stymied by your knowing The answer is in your chaotic mind In the wonder In the divergent In your unconstrained creative cognition To survive you need greater conceptual expansion To extend traditional conceptual boundaries To break free as needed To invent the appropriate To manifest your original being Your beliefs are so exciting Hold onto them despite the evidence Reach for the moon and think outside of the box

Napkinart Day of Titles

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The more rational The morally better To be both  Pleasing and analytical Disturbance Revolt The struggle for liberty The Church and the Aristocracy Seize the cathedral's bells and push open the city gates

Caricature ScoMo Wonky

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ScoMo "it's all a bit wonky" Chin up he said, it’s all a bit wonky, sure, but we’ll smash those Labor bastards The Guardian 20/10/18

Celeste Judgement Flower of Prey

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Like tears in the rain Knowing all at once This is not what we wanted Trapped in this territory That is deliberately scented to mask the  stench of our failure So much bloodletting Even to get even this far Dancing repetitively across countless seasons Hiding within one deception before attempting another In praise of what is willed to become I don't own my future Plain and  unadorned and stumbling across timespans On the surface Everything recorded for keeping purposes But acting as tokens that represent so much more To the effect that What is hidden is made to appear even more appealing Hidden as a threat Hidden for ownership In secrecy The promise that those who lie will lead themselves to death Accepting that the more powerful gain invasive power Through deceiving the meek And this populous is frozen It sits on own hands In recognition and in horror of those that implement outrageous cunning