The start of something beautiful

This 'ing' non linearity will keep me alive through emotions of extremity in nature but calmful and erotic at the simultaneous moment. The bell is ringing and the dog is barking. The river is flowing and the girl is singing. The night is black and the redness of orange. Man A shoots a star from a cold region somewhere in the midst of snow and cold. And a woman B receives it somewhere in her glass which is icy and cold artificially. The rockiness is getting subdued and the buttocks are being prepared to get shrugged in extremeness. The backbone will be fixed though. And the new bag for a distant travel will be purchased at a busy market somewhere down the side of ruggedness. And then someone will wait again at the doorsteps nearby getting confused at the rightest moment of scope. And that same one will get over and knock. ‘I was sorry and still am.’ ‘Can we walk now?’ The boy, the dog, the cow, all rejoicing about the time and the girl giving assurance that it is the moment of truth and nothing else. Not even the one who wears those sexy pair of Polaroid and whistles of the now past. She declares the start of the unending festivity and hence starts the dance from the millipedes to the sky and anything in between and hence after.
Let’s take a cup of water and crawl over the green grass. And then we will see the appearance of moon quite randomly. Her eyes look powerful yet again and she opens her arms up in the emptiness and declares ‘Done.’


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