Emotions aggregate, I am of myself.

Emotions aggregate, I become of inseparable roughness.

Unimposing duality, seeking separation.

Plausible duality, a form of man.

The question of love, a love of questions.

The soul of being, my love for your heart.

I become at once what I always could not be. I tear apart at once my ability to tear.

We show each other our invisible, we cannot see but we've always known.

A just cause for those who are smiling, a defining moment of those who have to fear.

We are at once of ourselves a moment of being, we are always separated by trust.

I love for those who cannot love me, I see for those who cannot see of me. I become of those who are not my intention, I intend for those who speak of my life. I turn for those who are wistfully yearning, I teach for those who fear nothing of lore. I mend for those who are seeking my glory, I search for those who are yearning with lust. I come for thee, sweet nation of roses. I join with thee, for heaven only knows.

I turn into power and power turns me over. I show you the truth and you see only lies. I hypnotize souls into heaven's lost glory. I long for those who are prolonging enjoyment. I make of those who are unknown my soul.

I split and wonder, what is it to be of quality? I yearn the words, the quantity of life.

Unimposed, a sleek vision of a stream is sent to man. We men bathe in this stream, we split it, we hog it, we give it to those are worthy. We judge them by judging of ourselves and our experience. We seek the truth when only seeking is to be found. I play with words as they play with me.

I emphasize emphasis, I demoralize morality, I divide the indivisible, I seek the glory in love. I feel those who are burning are the ones with the fire, those who are sobbing are seeking their hearts.

If you know of me, be me. If you know through me, hear me. If you long for me, fear me. If you need me, be gone.

If you are mine, I will become yours. I am yours, I will become you.

We are reflections. We are mirrors splitting off into alternate interpretations. We speak of divine truth when we speak of the divine. We speak of inseparable separation. We speak of divisible connectivity. We transcend our own goals and morals by reaching them. We are the teachers. We are you.

There is in every man a soul. A force that makes itself known through trickery and lust. Every soul is waiting to show its wielder its capabilities. Every capability is the ability to see. I become of lust as lust becomes of my body. I become of truth when I am alone. I am not together, but forever we are each other's playful wishlessness.

We become children through men, men become children through love. Life becomes whole as it begins to separate. We can only view our demise with longing and hate.

"Who are you? Why have you brought me here?" He rolls, forever obscuring his ability to roll. He views the world tree as a figment of trees. He views surrealism as a figment of the real. He fears time because he is afraid of himself. He speaks to himself, unwilling to believe his ability.

I am not humble, I am a god.
I am not god, I am a servant.
I am not a servant, I am a taker.
I am not a taker, I give of myself.

What you are is what you are made of. What you are made of is experience. This experience is made of other people's actions, in relation made of their experience. To be free is to be trapped.

An unending joke. Words of poets, poets of words. Actions of inebriated creativity loll and gag themselves with tamed ferocity. Automation is automatic.

Words are symbols, symbolic of our thoughts. Letters are pictures, nearly able to re-create experience.

I am here, pretentious soul. You are there, pretentious gagger. We are aware of each other's qualities, only able to be projected through identification with our own weaknesses.

We do not see others, we see different forms of ourselves. We do not see the truth, we speak of it through truth. We misunderstand as we interpret through our creativity. We are creative throughout our interpretation.

What is a hunter without creativity? He is the prey. What is the prey without creativity? In a dangerous situation. What is a dangerous situation without creativity? A trap. What is a trap? A joke. What is a joke but love.

Do we prove our own existance or does our existance prove itself to us?

We are here of knowledge imparted through wisdom. We are wisdom imparted from experience. We are experience experienced through wisdom. We are the children of humanity.

We view ourselves in no uncertain terms. The only uncertainity is the term of our sentence.

As we greet those who before us have lived so will we greet those who before us have to live.

I care for myself as I care for my body, I care for you as I care for your soul.

Where I see inability I see the possibility for change. Where I see change I see the possibility for equilibrium. Where I see equilibrium I am blinded with humanity.

A very serious joke in deeds.

The reward for the good is the ability to be better.

We now turn away, the price paid.

Here we lie, waiting for your awakening.


Too preachy? Too long? No form?

Tips, tricks and creative bypass?

Too long for me. Especially when I don't really know what you were trying to get across. Maybe that's the point or maybe I'm just not looking hard enough. I understand the words you wrote, but the way they fit together makes no sense to me. I'd pick it up in bits but then you'd say something that contradicted it. I'm not even sure what it's supposed to be.

It sounds somewhat Biblical, and if this was part of the intent, I still have no idea where you were going with it. Lots of comma splices. Maybe if you can fill me in on the general theme I can help you out a bit more, or if leaving the reader completely confused was your intention then you've done a pretty good job.

It's kind of like a near-nondualistic pseudo-psychedelic PLUR loving interconnectivity type of thing. I can't tell if there is any coherent flow of thought or not, but that's what I wrote. :confused: