transitions not so sweet, will wet the feet small souls given over to the hive is but all we are sick to the teeth the hate and the love is so bittersweet pain in the brain aches in the heart glory is all that is sought, after all what else is there?? but waiting for change, chasing the same yet knowing that each hold is different with each new grasp at the branch that sits above, so close to reach, yet so far whole bodies not real, time and space co-exist, mind has gone to feel like strands of the time that has created it, an itch that runs so deep that only the mind feels it can scratch. is this sweet? pain? torture? self mutilation of the most narcissistic, masochistic kind? joy? or anguish of the heart? cries for help or leaps of love? how do we know, but if not to experience and to hence forth decide, analyze and ponder within and on. if there is no path to tread then we feel lost having only the space of our minds to exist upon. its tangible feelings that we w...