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Sturdy Wind Stallion

Sometimes I feel so encumbered by unavoidable undertones of orphan assumptions. It seems as though they're conceived like weeds in between the carefully chosen destinations of our inner ornate apparitions...
Sometimes, I don't want to concern myself with weather the individual I address has encountered the crude, perfunctory, disposition of the oxygen in Denver... I just want to describe it to them as if they've never drawn their own breath- saturated with their own, personal, impure particles to experience.
I don’t want to plague myself with the possibility of others determining that my carefully derived method of provoking a conversation is anything other than what it is, simply.
Because of this;  my greatest art is that which was conceived with the soul ambition of rendering it's full potential capacity, solely to consist in confluence; Completely free of any presumed receipt.  
--
Sometimes I'm afraid to read my writing. (if I feast my eyes; will they become gluttonous?) I just put it away and won't acknowledge it until it beckons me. Sometimes i destroy it or make a picture right on top of it so it's illegible.

You know how in Colorado after you run or do something cardio, the skin inside your nose burns like it's been sandpapered, and also your chest feels like you inhaled a huge cloud of chalk dust....?
It's not like that in north Dakota. In north Dakota you still run out of breath eventually . But, You know how water would force it's way into your lungs if you drown...air forces it's way into your lungs as you run..

The moment before your front leg reaches the ground ahead of you,..just after your back leg leaves the solid earth; you feel as though you are riding a wind stallion;
A sturdy wind stallion with a robust sinewy figure. He is open to your direction, yet instantly resolute upon the exact moment a single fiber of your being progresses one particular way..

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