belief

it's what y o u want - to feel good when the tide is high surf towards the moon! a tugging, a coherent not possible gets shut down. towards the sky, sun, stars celestial objects bow to thee and it feels good to be heard by? y o u. the odds are dismal, the possibility is there, the probability is you would land on your face. but hey these minuscule matters are for small minded folks who achieve naught in life! not for titans that shoot lightnings, you're the exception, it still feels good. and it goes the other way too of course, when fear grips, the walls walks towards you disappear, no where to be found. the universe cares not for ant like life, you in a nutshell. phantasm, mirrors, cracked mirrors and your face scattered in little pieces flashed across a dozen beliefs, unreal.