Love is an idea when in actual action has a different notion, a different motion, a different station to board a different interaction
Ideas are many, actions are so few and very new to the very few that knew, knows of no new
An idea is not of the new when its from the memory, when it has its roots within the penetentray of the memory
Tried and Trekked, wired and wrecked, dried and ducked, walked and talked are all of the memory
Memory is of the old, is of the comfort and of the uncomfort directing me, carving my ideas and the resulting ideals of the I, I call I
To live in the memory is that of self shackled prison in which the prisoner and the guard are the same
The one that lost the key to my shackles and the one that has the key to my shackles is one and the same
Same shame, just a different name and a different game and still of the ideal of the same tame of the shame
To arise from memory is to take shelter in the Sensory, a sensory dungeon
A dungeon that never be the pigeon that flies, that is free of that which weighs me down, forbids me from my very own melt down
Always showing me hope, scarring me of the my nope, my very probe in to the nature of hope and wraps me with a robe of illusory armory in the protection of stationary
For Hope is the temporary temporal twist in this motion to bring forth the notion of the past and relive in the reiteration of the retreat of the past
Past as my mast
Pasts mast as my cast, I see the vast through this cast and the caste of the cast
Contrast as my justification, my juxtaposition to recast the past to outlast the precast, I recast the past in aghast
To understand this nature of the pasts contrast is to avast, is to move with the motion
And when I move with the motion with no notion of the motion, I may come across that is which is neither of the motion nor of the notion
For the motion has no commotion nor devotion and still includes all of the emotion
This Motion has no definition of Love, no definition of this or that. NO idea of love, No comfort of the idea of Love
For it is the action, in every momentary movement of the moment that redefines, vines and shines that which is
And that which is has in it the awareness of all that was and is and never was
Such a mind is neither blurred nor scared or scarred
And is in the state of self inquiry to myself that which i call my self and all of the perceptions of that self
For the inquiry when turns on itself, a different state arises from such inquiry
To experience this, the clearance of this experience in everyday action, in every perception of my every thoughts action has a very different essence to the very incidence of essence
OneAndNone 