Maelstrom 

Feeling a bit scrambled this week, do you know what I mean?

Thoughts are wind racing over the glass surface of a depthless pool, throwing waves and shapes of blue and blackened chaos. Focus is the reflection of intention, kept safe by the fathoms of the mind, the gale of thoughts carving the stillness into dancing sprites, bold but fleeting, ripping, cavorting, a whirlwind churning, a calmness distorting. 

Channels of desire colliding and breaking, no pieces to put back together, just the incessant rolling and crashing of noise. Chasing the lights to the end of the path to find nothing but dancing flames in the midst of nowhere, lost in the maelstrom of a busy mind

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