An ooze appeared like a viscous red soup that drips when you tip it and plumps with more bread, a delicious red soup that will get you in the end. Where do we go and who do we follow, and will there be garments provided at the gallows? I’m sure we all know that siphoning is silly, but are we sure now that we’ve not gone too silly? A temper teem strut is like a thick board of white sashes, and I’ll let you know when I’ve got my own ashes.
Guys, guys, GUYS!
It’s red all over… the world is red!
Our world, this life!
Where will we go? What will we do?
Panicking won’t help…
Hellllppp!
HELLPPPPP!
Please someone, help us all!!!!!!
He screamed as he drove through the night.
The fires had been burning for some time now, so long, in fact, that he hadn’t realized it was 12pm the next day.
Safety was nowhere to be found except while always moving and driving the obstructed roadways in his 4×4 Jeep Wrangler. He knew it would come in handy one day, like for real, a bonafide challenge vehicle.
What he didn’t expect is all of this.
Where did this come from?
How did we get to this point without realizing sooner?
Why is it so hard to reach people these days?
I’m going through pain, and I can’t even begin to express what it feels like, least not without a long period of grief, and all gamut of other emotional positions I will soon sequentially occupy.
Time, the real currency.
So how am I supposed to convey to someone out there watching this unfold that I am in distress, like for real – bonafide!
How can I even begin to imagine what it’s like for someone else with a traumatic experience . . .
People mock you, in their little bubble half a world away . . .
I also think this outward pouring of love and charity has been amazing.
What I would like to see is a spiritual shift.
Spiritual meaning presence of mind.
Shift meaning collective presence of mind, or mindfulness.
Our Story is a way for you to help create the story of Life on Mars, the same name for music releases by the Cosmic Cowboys.
Next up: a topic on Emapthy
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