Tomorrow We Dance To Freedom

Earth Dead Planet at the Edge of the Milky Way

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Before the end comes delirium will saturate the human condition.

Fever... Sweat... Eyes flashing anger...

Destiny enters the atmosphere seeking out the hapless, those not noticed - an ordained creative challenge not yet actualized. Confronting the beast that has emerged from its century's long nocturnal sleep will be those who will not sacrifice their principles on the altar of evil. Blood red sunsets may predominate, a pitiful ignorance that silently takes more victims, leaving only those with a decaying staring inactivity, and an expectant satiation of their every whim.

Crying street urchins surveying the emptiness fearing the deadly gulp of burning air will stay clear of the day's fireball. Red ones prowl in search of Expendables.

Slicing back across the time-space continuum of reality and unreality to materialize...

Coming over from that time-line rippling on yellow-white energy waves to the matter state well that is this anarchistic nowhere the dimensional shift once again stabilized. Catheterized with three purple diagonals - the sleek well-defined alien pattern that symbolizes the unity of all that exists makes up the essence of the soul of the pure.

Whirlpools cover the lightning streaked fluffy white puddles, a field of vortexes complicates, only the three purple streaks permeating this entity can fall into the optimal mass conveyor. Calculations only relevant within the bubble of matter that encases the being frantically work against the time that does not exist outside this liquid energy of the universe. Traveling from the other-side to the inside, or the no-side of shadows - immaterial voices, visions, and dreams intrude to give glimpses of the many future path streams visited.

Yet it seems so carefree a condition, traveling endlessly to many worlds. Some just whiffs of what could have been, others exuding promise only to just crash and burn. The thankless job has few successes - many more failures. Effusive community is rare; ignorance in the material worlds fused with sentient awareness is plentiful. Most substantial solid oases are fueled with never satisfied purges, wars, divisiveness, and self-centered egotism.

Confusing passion for sensitivity there is an amorphous link from desire to species community. Stimulating this riotous freedom is the key to success. Preeminent creatures of the cosmos have tapped into this passionate energy stream - they can feel it race outside their solid bodies. They are acutely in tune with both energy and matter - able to envision the profound.

Day is quickly sinking to Night.

Passing upon the rock, a white obelisk in the Central Square of Mourning has a smooth space ready for the name of another failure. Maybe the carving in an alien script will not translate to "Earth - Dead Planet at the Edge of the Milky Way".