The Actual Beings Cloud.
The Cure for Self-Esteem Problem. Not Problems.
I wanted to be perfect.
Like she wasn’t.
The more she stank in sick glee;
A nasty frown on her barely smiled face;
Crow lones she hated animals I could just kill;
There were too many mentions of the good kids; like I wasn’t one of them;
There was too much mention of beauty queens of both genders; like I wasn’t born beautiful;
It should have been self-esteem problems for me; but for me everytime I felt bad; I refused vanity; and I started as deva; soon there was no way to deny what I was; it was so funny in that second of refusing vanity; all those eternities past of all these things I had done that I could no longer remember ; because like she said it wasn’t real. But there was no way to deny what I was; it’s funny it’s like the things weren’t real were real and so was; but she wasn’t she was something I used like Sin to transform as a child a baby; and to start as a god. It was funny once I became a Deva; I didn’t remember that there was more; I didn’t even really know the name of what it was. It’s funny because as I had become a Deva; we kept getting lost; like story t a l e; and we couldn’t figure out why we were lost; nobody really knew why in that moment that we could find; so it was like we had to find the same thing at around the same coincidence it was like not stealing but even more important than not stealing it was like Uniform; like coming at the same truth; it was funny because one of us figured out that it was about me; I knew it I had picked non-vanity to: many times; now there was no way to Stop; and it was Scary; but you see there was no choice for me; we knew than that truth was a truth; like discovering you’re jesus by many at the around the same coincidence like a cloud that you all notice; it’s the culture of deva and I recommend you use it for yourself; if you find truth at the same coincidence you never stole that and like it’s the truth; concept I think that’s what that’s called.
But the main truth here was that she stunk so bad; and we couldn’t deal with it so we quarantined ourselves from her; and it was disgusting; the other truth is that either I’d get self-problems or I’d refused vanity too many times; there was no choice; and only one was believable to the stench.
Hmm. What makes you so moral. Hmm. What makes you that way. Hmm. Clouds. That’s what makes me moral. Clouds That’s what makes me that way. They are like my friends. You’d be moral too if you had friends as clouds. It’s a nice furrow for the non-perplexed non vain.
Uh; most clouds are gray; and blue is how they see; like eye color but of course if they’re pink or purple or black they might be seeing different; in that moment or something; But usually they are gray and blue. Yeah, uhm. At night they rest like us; most often; but if there’s a lot of entropy to produce than they’ll be working. They are like you know actual beings.