Again he is correct. I wonder how. The first days are like the last. You know but you don’t. The trees outside are masturbating. I feel the development of something crazy.

The black swans were talking things unknown to me. The exchange of often beautiful. Yet I was starred. Humb and numb. Slowly they are pointing at me. I feel a beautiful connection and I try to reciprocate. I understand my role currently. The things are coming to me discretely yet there is a sense of continuum. Like the first arbitrary trials you do while starting with anything. Its honest even if there is a mistake. Like the density curve where we belong stochastically at the beginning.

I reiterate a known song. I feel whether I should bring in time. My things are arbitrarily deranged. I see many things just scattered. Just playing by themselves. I see a friend who is moving beautifully. Some beautiful ladies. Whizzing. And some beautiful things which I can count but leave them to multiply. I congratulate a young mind to take a task. But slowly I feel of the resonance. In spite of my wrong actions which I will integrate and optimize. I look at the body. And the inside. This is ecstatic. I promise someone to go over to his place. We do some discussions whether to catch the train but fix on the bus. I see some deep spots underlying sending some undercurrent that I call joy. I mix myself with the environment. I see the joy. People ask me, ‘Are you finding joy.’ I reply,’ I find joy, hatred, lust, desires, calm and everything if I remember the maths.’ I just see the just loneliness around and how people seem to mediate about that. It is the perfection. Just seeing an inch in front. That’s crazy. Yes, I will live with that. I will die with that. I find a father. I will give him abuses at times but he is the father. My eyes are cold and superconducting. I see reciprocating phenomenon. I build a state where I see vortices. I see radiations. I see everything all around beautifully coupled. I see internal reversibility. I hear motorbikes whizzing crazy. Life. I feel these inculcating. I feel death. Like a speck of the inner pollens. These things called life and death are truly the reality. We have to enjoy those. We have to see it like a detailed mystery. Like a dancer dancing. Like a clown laughing. Like a mystic meditating. Like a nomad wandering. Like a scientist researching. Like a friend walking. Like a lover loving. Like a breeze just encompassing.  Like a sea binging. Like you seeing. Like not time. Like a dog sniffing. Like you. And this is the beauty. You crumble and slowly dissolve into the black. Like a new born. Like water. Like whisky. And you. I see the nothing and that excites me rather revolutionize me. Like the flow of urine from inside. I have started to feel the endlessness of everything and it don’t scare me rather sends undercurrents of joy. I am like the boring story but that which at the end there is a relaxation a joy of footprints.

Swallowed in time and space. I really believe Einstein now. And exactly can match with this person. The word person excites me. The word poor excites me. And those shitting things too. My lips and the front end of the tongue are a bit nasty now. I confused over e and w the other day. Perhaps of my machine. I guarantee myself I will rather find love here.