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Ride Along

My soul is young
My soul is old
My soul reflects
Atomic gold.
 
And over lives
Thru stories told
My soul collects
A cosmic mold.
 
I turn it in
It churns about
I burn it up
And blurt it out.
 
I am the end
I begin again
I understand I’m not—
 
But I am.
 
This is what happens when you don’t grow up.
Not many people understand and I never cared.
They’re grown up and they don’t count.
You have to live here.
Not have only once lived there.
You have to spit in the face of conformity every time it arrives.
Every time.
I’m proud to say I have done this every time.
Proud like a little kid.
The little kid I am.
I am not delusional.
I don’t think I am more than I am.
I don’t hold myself accountable for this grand experiment.
Let alone your grandiose ego.
You are nothing.
Just like me.
So I just ride.
Ride along.
I realize that love is all.
Love is not a material.
Love is an action.
A thought.
A glorious feeling.
And I’m just a smile in the mirror of your frustration.
A speck of life in the multiverse.
A psychedelic glitch in space.
With mighty ignorance in the right place.
Holding an only prejudice against structure.
It’s unbelievably hard sometimes.
But all times are unbelievable.
And that is the secret.
Everything is fantasy.
And I don’t believe in anything.
Sometimes I almost die.
But when I don’t, the reward is greater.
It’s the best melody you could ever hear.
And I hear it everyday.
The only thing worth living for.
That melody.
It’s amazing.
You should hear it.
You should’ve tried it.
 
Because.
 
Our souls are young
Our souls are old
Our souls reflect
Atomic gold.
 
And over lives
Thru stories told
Our souls collect
A cosmic mold.
 
We turn it in
It churns about
We burn it up
And blurt it out.
 
And in the end
We gain a scar
We understand we’re not—
 
But we are.
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