Okay, Let me be super clear. I don't want to be here. In this plasma space in my face, reality fixated on me like we're in a race when I'm sitting in a small chair. I don't mean to embarrass you, Or put myself above you, but I wanted to. Tell you about... The fire around me... This thing I call plasma that I see. I sit still in the middle. Of information that's brittle, And centered all around me. Like focus and focus from countless people surrounding me. Their thoughts are like collisions of antimatter and matter, plasma. But they don't always agree with ya. And its diplomacy is with ya, But the intent has to speak for ya, Because it's like a million voices, And they all want your choices, In specific dynamics, With layers and layers like layers of romantics And liberal frantics Layered against conservative antics, And they all want your stance, And they know it's where theirs is, But then we have the magics, That connect with Yeshua's actual semantics, But not all Christians dance there yet, And then there is the place where I spoke to a star, And the way this works, We are gonna go far, And as others press their reality upon me To defeat me What they can't see... Is that I am over 40 feet. My head's in the sky. They press down, And it may seem my end is nigh, But they merely pressed... The side of my thigh. I don't want to be here. I like the reality where the stars are dear. And we are all friends, And my friend is a constellation. And still my best friend. I don't want to be here, But in order to escape here I have to raise this place here To a higher plane. And so... I've got news. You're all. Coming with me. And the stars that protect me.
