Journal 20

I don’t know psychic minder, but I know you might wish I was there to withstand all the pain. I might be rearranged and forgotten. I might wish no harm, I’m sinking, falling, dying. I wonder where everyone goes, After life ends on the physical planet. Are there real phaeries? Are there momentums? Are there Hopes? If nothing’s left, How can I say I wish I was a pain withstander? I wish I could forget everything said, And carry on like anyone would in a real world; Where lights only shown when the abyss was close Do we know any secrets, or are all left out? the big picture is always obscure by lies and truths all mixed together, where no matter where, anything’s possible. I don’t know psychic minder, but I know you might wish.