Sirwolfgang

Think Tank Contacts: Reality Show-Family RelatedNetworking at the moment. Have concept registered for a television treatment pilot Need think tank crew to market concept. Stand-alone show or as a once a week test run in a current show testing market for a spin off. Contact me if you have an interest in developing a television treatment into marketable presentation.Make Love To The Wind Like A Butterfly....Would you rather be or would you rather do? Your wish to exist within and without is but the command of your mindless eye. Find there the keyless Skeleton which will unlock what will become a door, a window, or a turnstile. Whatever you choice.My mother’s favorite. Vibrating through time and space. Splendid to say hello. Pleasantries to you.The term 'clear consciousness' or 'waking state of consciousness' seems to have been given in jest, especially when you realize what clear consciousness ought in reality to be and what the state in which man lives and acts really is.I wished I would have first met you at the kindergarten public school sand box pre first grade, me with a empty sand bucket and you with a yellow handle leading to the long red stem shovel. BUT OH!!!, both of us discovered the coach's P.E. whistle in the sands of time and vowing our first true secret of many secrets, with the ink one may use in the permanency of a tattoo, building the bridge that binds eyes without words and creates worlds that exist only in other dimensions. My heart, I protect my heart at all times as humanly possible. And I fail often. Occasionally and especially when reminded by God as to who I am, where I am going and what he wishes for me to accomplish. I attempt at all times, to allow no space for hate or vengeance in my heart as these spirits exist in emotional forms only to steal from you, life by giving birth to the first fatherless son born in a spiritual cancer that grows slowly hidden in smiles and frowns never to be discovered in time. Yet, only when suspected, will the first born bastard find an innocent victim to blame his distractions without mercy nor justice while hoping to end a life line without shedding blood by his hands. The Art Of Murder Was Born To This School. A most silent poisonous way to live and die with the true meaning of passing ones sin on to their offspring as defined by the heart. I have yet to post anything anywhere with the goal of educating anyone as I know not what others know and almost daily question what I do. All My Truths Are Written In Sandstone as I find it easier to correct what I once believed to be true. I now write such TRUTHS in Peanut Butter Sandwiches as they make eating my words a playground delight. If any of my forms of expressions makes one thinks so, tis only because there already existed a seed ready to sprout. If one cries, it is because these contractions of pain will opened the gates of freedom so the pain maybe released to be reborn in another form with another purpose. If one laughs, I hope to be remembered kindly for a brief moment, in time and space, as only one's true value shall be released in a distant echo hidden in a thunderstorm measured over 30 seconds away. May that emotional tear be hidden amongst all the other raindrops recalling a memory born to give life from anyone’s point of view. I hope to be remembered only as " He made me Laugh Once, I can't remember why..... But He made me laugh once. " Peace within yourself is my greatest wish for you my friend ********* Toodles for now © 09-13-2006Real self-remembering is not in centers, it is above centers.The practice of self-remembering or division of attention is connected with the attempt to produce…the birth of consciousness in oneself.Consciousness is not functions. You are observed, not what you observe.Who am I standing in the midst of this thought traffic? One thing is certain and all the rest are lies.Someone will steal you away if you do not stay near the beloved.Take heed… that your heart be not deceived, and ye turn aside, and serve other gods…You must know how to shield the burning candle from the winds.The most precious of human things is the state of being occupied with the present. Tell Me Why
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