THE PENDULUM IN MY COFFEE

Hi, Gemunis presently here. I , well ,I have a distinct idea, hum, well I do, it’s in the tip of my, idea, to grasp idly, express it , in a non conventional way. It is this, what of to some, it may, appear, in that way. It is a simple, yet a drastic, idea, to the pendulum, of distinct, concepts, and precept’s to, the lour of the mind’s, which feed, on a magnetic truth. The podium, for, distinct, idea’s, drastic, influences, rather point forceful, to the respect’s, of the sleeping appointed mind, a handful, in the early morning, awaiting, our approval, so as to take off, this wonderful distinctive ideology. I have it in a cup of coffee, this idea, it exist in a perfect place, somewhere, in that cup of coffee. I thought, the Sun would not, rise today, so would the idea, also, be dormant, well maybe not so, for I don’t mind, writing, on a coldly day, the sun, it rises, within, my mind, so does the shadows, as an orchestra. The orchestra, it is LIVE, it is substance, as my finger prints, are a substance of distinct, sub, nebula’s, in a party, of content, within my eye, for, today, I will fathom the answer, of multiplicity, to the question, where is it, this unique, aquatic, response, of mind, and the sort’s, in this, or, that place, I see, where I sit, at the corner, inside, my fifth cup of coffee, my usual brand. I have not forgotten the lizard, by my window, my Mother call. My breakfast is getting cold, oh, Mother how I miss you, Why, didn’t we praise, the marchers, of Israel, together, why did, you go ahead, of me, when I was only a child. Why did, you not make a Martyr, of me then, when I was in tears, and so afraid, as is Palestine, I feared, so greatly for, the fallen, lives, who think upright, through their innocence. I forbade, the mark, in my, cup, overflowing, with, dignity, not forgetting you, against the injustice, which only you, could see, dear Mother, Dear grandma. The GOD, he speaks to me, from afar, OH, great, and mighty GOD, tell me, please, that, it is not, solely, Israel, whom, you seek, dear father, but instead, all those who seek you, although, they should be, they should sprout, from the spiritual tree’s of life, as in a dream, they know, that they were caked, to your bidding, for there were no other volunteer’s.

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