bugs are scary

creepy crawly legs
trek up my own
biting my skin
feeding on my blood
for nothing but sustenance

when it comes to
bugs,
and me,
and the meadow im lying in
there simply isn't enough room
for all parties involved

so i took shrooms

there is no pain
i feel no bugs
yet we see all bugs
all bugs are dancing
in a constant state of dancing
they dance and they eat
we dance and we eat
in the meadow

for the meadow is home
there has never been another home but the meadow
the meadow encapsulates all beings that matter
the bugs
only the bugs

for i am the bugs
WE are the BUGS
THE BUGS ARE US
WE ARE THE CHILDREN
WE ARE THE WORLD
WE WILL SING UNTO
YOU, THE MEADOW
ANCIENT HYMNS FROM THE UNDERGROUND
LISTEN WITH YOUR SOUL
WE ARE DANCING

and we have danced
we danced until the sun stopped setting
for the sun can never rest
will never rest
in the presence of us, the bugs
the beautiful, beautiful bugs
we love the bugs
i love the bugs

bugs used to be scary

Thinking contemplation
leads to revelation
seeking information
for a transformation
In a simulation?
this entire nation
an insinuation
of greater creation
or the ultimate narration
piques our fascination
less human conversation
more alienation
engenders more destruction
than annihalation
so, forget this complication
& make life a Celebration.

i invited a non-binary friend
on a 3-day cabin trip
and on the first, they said to me
"this has made me realize
i can't recall a time where i've been truly content.
this is the happiest i've been in a long time"
they put a hand on my shoulder
"you're a good friend"
and with that, my year was made

months go by without surprise
we work and work all the time
it's only fitting, then
that us 10 men meet
on a fateful august sunrise

adrenaline pumping and bags packed
the road is cold and unforgiving
driving through small towns
with citizen's big frowns
we finally enter the Adirondacks

overcome by beauty

the mountains hear our joyous exclamations
while the tall grass traps their appreciation

magic fills the atmosphere
rolling through the hills
extolling our wondrous thrills
our glorious cheers

as we hear the first crack of a beer

and now,
the worth of all those months of work
is heard
heard by the mountains
heard by the sky
heard by the insects,
crawling on the ground bringing life to the world

but most of all,
it's heard by each other

and our bodies fill with alc and ****
as fires are lit and stories are shared
for to drink and smoke
and laugh and joke
amongst each other

well, i'd say that's beautiful indeed

wrapped up in a two hour daydream
thinking of what the future might be
needing to tell others but neglecting,
the world doesn't need to see that part of me

remember that cute girl at the grocery store?
the one you didn't say anything to?
ok now roll that back and imagine..
because what else is there to do?

spiraling thoughts lose all purpose
can't talk to people, can't be alone
yet my happiness depends on making others happy
a skill i don't think i've yet honed

because my whole being is the epitome of empathy
if you don't care about yourself,
well, you're cared by me
such is the life of an INFP-T

'du er vakker'
is what i say,
but,
'jeg elsker deg'
is what i think