Frontal Lobe
When the journey and adventure of life crashes into life , so to be conquered, so to admired , then a fork in the road
Be spry like fleeting imp or follow in the footsteps of giants , is the path meant to be golden , tread lightly for the right footwear eludes you , conundrum ?
Time in this realm called reality can pull the shroud over ones eyes , playcating the minds tricks , it’s a test or just space needing to be filled , an opaque multidimensional puzzle , would it be all relitive if one was blind , pondering this in silence
The journey is a full experience, analyzing, scrutinizing, philosophical, whimsical, all are cordially invited , this is not a recording this live ?
Not just a story of intrigue, nor a story of enlightenment, life begets life , mystical, even a bit brash and sassy , and now the fork in the road becomes a branch with many limbs , peculiar
There may be laughter hidden in hardship and so vice versa is called for , in the beauty of this enigma life can remain in the plain life can out duel disparity, emotional as to cross the perverbial bridge , cement feet
The morale of this allegory can only be judged with complete openness, questions are always begging , it’s the running reel of a picture show , living on the edge of sanity , and dissected with in the minds eye , the minds eye , the minds eye
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