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Eternity happens here. Contraposition kept interpolation at rest. Nature knew me well, knew flows found form in separate streams stringing all people in the same love. We are one people of love after all. After all of this life where will you be? With that capital S Self, Sovereignty.

For all the expansive songs i hear in my colorful head, for all the women of love, the good good times rolling on will compass us round again. All things are cyclical. Subservience is under God alone, not a mote of person will tell me how i must live; though in all and every loving soul i see truth, i listen with your voicing and encourage our individual growths.

Self nurturing allows for friends nurturing. I am good with all people, i love all people. Not all people love me, that is their concern.

A good gardener not only gives his plants light and water and attentive affection, he encourages each flowers idiosyncratic bloom of beauty. Each of us is a flower yes, God our gardener sustains ordains of our days. We have light in and out, water deep and wide, endless the both. Each of us is an individual expression of God’s love. A self is a a fine imprint formed by our creator, we wash and coalesce, blessed to show by the same ink of love. All of our days. Repetition in most high reverie, see breath is given, a gift of love to be alive. Return worry for adventure. God keeps us alive, worriless, and when we’re dead worry dies too, why worry at all. All of life should be adventures in love. Love on.