Thursday, November 17, 2016

Angel's Last Ride






On a planet where pop stars pass over on a daily basis with Mondays off, sometimes it's hard to remember whether or not you have a purpose. Whether you ever had a purpose. Guard the palace, I suppose.

Broad shoulders and a southern drawl will get you on the radio but it won't bring you love.

I've dreamed more than a lifetime. Sometimes I dream so hard that it wakes me up. Sometimes I'm not sure which is the dream and which is the life. Is that me or is that the reflection in the mirror and the voice on the radio? What difference does it make?

We all want to believe in heaven. Try to book your passage while you still believe. Let's face it, that's all that counts. Everything's some form of energy and all energy is some form of love and if energy can be neither created nor destroyed, then all love is forever.

I love you.




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