With the setting sun and the music ranging from Gordon Lightfoot to the beats that still reminds me of her smell. Forgotten times of lust and devotions, a masterpeice of being human yet a devastations of memories never forgotten as they are the ones who have defind you in the dark. Through the howls of the never tamed wolves of the woods, hoots of the hungered owl beset you with a sence of wonder and hope. Evermore a broken set of places and times you will never truly remember, but that kiss, never forgotten.

In the begrown life last us a sence of hope and wonder. a food of mind to keep the settlesd mind sleeping in its bliss. Reaching a age of the world where we are blinking, weeping, ever lacking in the truth no one likes to hear. We are but murderers of ideals that could bring us together for with the pride of mind and beset ideals. We are but a happenstance of life that has yet to be challenged in modernity. This battle of land is going to be death of so many that the land itselfwith be salted by the blood of the innocent and yet the soil that will be used as shallow graves will become a lamp posts resting place.

Though problems leave us dispasstionate, even if you will blinded to light of life. The fog of a socioparalyimic type battle that have granted no rewards but the ones who have fought to win the greatest reward are just gifted with a sin laced pride that will devour them. For that I weep in the brightest of days as each day is one day less of the of them that will be. Targets and enemies are but excuses to take pot shots at a feild that once fed a family. To the last priest standing over his flock even though years of prayer and devotions. Even in his final prayer as the walls comes down on the children he hoped to save from a short life. He wonders in not discrace or of sin, but of reality, what god would ever allow the screams of children in death fill the soccer feild and not cheers of joy. Victories cost is the innocents of the witness.

Behold not the fear of the dust and fog of remains, we will be welcoming that essence we will all soon smell. With bombs and lead in the distance across the seas. Know that ivocations of knowlage of past is that there is already a source here. That within our walls and inside the veins of people we wonder of, there is a rage and incomprehenceable sence of violations. From foes afar to the foes with in our own citizens. A befowled and viscus fluid that is the boutiful lies, we now have to wash the unwashable, we will have to see the unforgetable, know and taste death that is not our own. This is a future that is not one I pray and hope for, but one that cannot be avoided as the blood of the innocent have already signed a contract that us not take back.

Though these are the day in the future of all of us it is with great personal reasoning I have started the task to prepare. From food shelters underground and vast thoughts of things to build that will service the ones who fight off the fog and defuse of war. Not just of nations but a war of ideals. How things have become so discorsed in infathomable ways.

With the discord and the words of the many become the nations new song, I just hope that the ones who have kinship bound to each other, not the channeled lie that family is a must. That family is a choice, a kinship is more bounded then the ones who are bound by blood. Let the screams and tears of the ones who wished for division and now call for familial death, a social viral infection that much like syphalis it is detrenching our values and becoming a fluid to replace blood of kinship.

I call out to the ones who read my words and hope you find the kinship you found is stonger then this virus of defectioion of humanity. That you have become such a statue of values and non- transactional beliefs. Once not found in the words of another but in the life you have lived and now know that the things and ideas held close to your heart, protect them not with vilolence or with the convictions of others. With the things that make you what you are, not what you are told to be. Be human and concious, not bound to ideals of the mass of anyone.

Much love.

Your Friendly Ginger From The Woods.