Flowing down the river of feces

Turbulant wave washes away dreams, dreams long standing across my waking self. The self supposed figure flys away in the atmosphere, lurking on the cloud linings. And in here I am within and without the spiritual nirvana of oneness. Clear the rough road ahead of cerebral undertakings, informed of long spindly spider cracks along cranial caves. Release and greet the flow of matter coating the body of unconscious consciousness. The self becomes the someone else and adapts to the outer machine world of cold steel extractions.

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