February 16, 2000: I have no Pentagon
My visions are that, shared by spirit guides and keepers—I’m open to all who speak while building paths toward those who’re silent. Slowly, I learn of my inability: I cannot be all that I can physically be if being everyone and everything else is what you want me to be. I’ve spent six years trying to better understand the steps taken—only to learn I’ve traveled nowhere. What people don’t see is my constant morning sickness. They fail to view my urge to puke but can’t—therefore it must be words and thoughts that I force myself to get rid of. Thoughts and paragraphs—released unto a world, torn from a soul only to be hidden away til the day I’m cremated, which proves that none of this really exists.