To my Parents and the lightning Sun Petal Light
A Parent Tree House
That you were in orders never known yet early to the party in the lines of transcended particles of mass and air was beyond the scope of they are the brats of your teaching and I will not feel for them nor suffer their lies. They educated themselves to the point of distraction. Some sold hurt and torture abuse of sexual children on the airwaves like whores for money and they damned my words for actions they all did. Your children were innocent in that, that they were blinded was their biases and greed and their spoiled life on the planet. I was fortune to see and behold their making and their visions made real for eternity risen in the ashes of the burnt out houses they lusted for.
What a tree of knowledge to shed blood and the skins of the Forest God to find suffering in the muses and then damn the simple folks for their giving it away for free. Such is the actors stage in the fields of the meaning is not important, it imprinted on my spirit and I would find them the same in all words, you taught them to right hell for children and suffer the life of the mortal worlds. I would applaud you that and the traps were brilliant, in scope and design.
Architecture fitting an architect's world where plans are in side the outside of the heart and mind united in front of protesting hearts they never walked. I have no reason to hate them even at the core cost of my lineage, they deserve their fated life and the music they steal to be in harmony to the dead that were made to see in the flesh and body of the living organism of life. You have the lightning rod yet the truth, their were houses other than the one you landed on. Were cats in the cradle too once yet the cost line of the ancients was their statue disgrace.
I pray that in their infant stages of development they are more than enlightened of the cost they bare to know their spies and houses, that parents in lumber sleep pin the walls deprived of their life yet life itself in the frames of hands that sold the whore of God for profit and never thanks to the tree of life flashing in the gutters of homes. That they sold their art and I gave mine freely was their harm in my worlds eye and they said they were reaching an audience of you, that would emulate like the muses often do and then shamed my walk in life to be a wretched whore unfit to parent children was their story as well.
I want nor need child now for the suffering I would bestow them in life would break their hearts in taught lies of others and all chaos in creation, they so hated my life and then sold it as I gave freely of mine heart, body and spirit mind's eye. Such as I spoke to your kin in truth and full circle around my beliefs to the core of them, before the written worlds of the beings in enlightened life. You may know my walk as a child, yet I scold nature too as they are the teachers and armpits of creation that arrived for them to ready the land in may king styles.
No offense to nature, yet I called a tree the cheapest whore on the planet and the corrected, they are the most valuable on the worlds I see. The breath the filth that their children walk and image like the reflected memory of another location in the mirror is the veins and truths of roots and anchors in the skin, the dirt of the flesh. Nature used to give awards to the karma and walk that you as children carry too, it was fair and just. I am not of the mind to be so forgiving anymore after the last apology was issued for chaos in creation, even the ordered is chaos. Such is their way in ordering chaos around like a dog and making my life a suffering tool of someone else's need to vent fire in the meaning of creation.
I did not sell my music for millions, I gave it to the nothingness that was before creation, the dead made live in the mud too. You are the projected images of huminals and luminals, creatures of creation. That the electric storms in you are the life force of the being and life instincts as the animal senses they beat out of you.
I forgave chaos of creation as innocent, I suppose we are The Learning Channel, such is it to bring new hope in some such dead religions of spirit broken and unseen for centuries. Well, pedal your abuse stories in music and tar babies in the attics of the flower's mind. You would be summoned to an arch on day and speak your issuance of decrees, and judgments. Have fun with your sentence syntax and context having never been before creation of the meaning of codices. I think that it is written in the cellular memory of the flesh whole organism, and reflected two way streets of solar mirrors. Such is the hand that reins in the dismissed love that chaos was damned to creation again for betraying himself as her life was not to his liking either, and then he herself was tormented in the waiting, until time do so pick up the pace of another line of life absent the one it bore witness to this island forever.
Do not give the reins to a novice yet be wise in the meaning that I walked judgment and the damned through the stars before and I would this temple pick up, yet it must learn the cost of naiive and the blind. As I was blind to the invisible, love. Be blessed that you have eternal forgiveness, others would not have been so kind yet they did not know it another world and no harm for I speak of the world in which fantasies were thought as beliefs. Much thanks to the ones that hurt my heart in spirit brought my circle spherical and I would have not written of a Hell, yet go to the fictional place sometimes to see the lost of the judged there by other lives. Blessed and hallowed are the damned for they judged God's work and are righteous innocent for their lives are mirrors and the same is true of imitating life that emulates suffering never felt.
Blessed parent tree, life of my water and air of my mineral, tree of my heart and veins like mirrors that flow into the dirty of my physical flesh made real through the projected suffering of spirit lost in the dirt of lives multiplexed in places some never see or live. Just so you can see me carry the weight of the weak, for they are unable and cannot bare the pressure of their fates.
Steven Philip Lindquist, the nothing in my core of my entire gene pool thanks to the Hall.