Can I grow up with you, a dad to a daughter.
why?, daughter to dad.
Coz I wanna feel alive.
Coz I wanna be there for ya.
Coz I know if do that, I can be the best for ya.
Coz my heart sings when we live,love and laugh together.
Dada, here comes mama.
Oh. . .,
Let’s go your mom is almost near.
My animus left my Id,
This anima in me spoke none of ego.
All of ranges where my dreams leapt and slept like a cub in my unconscious.
Where a fraud once told me,
what is the name of your grandmother.
Zarathrusta came back,
He wanted nothing but his blue black fountain pen.
He saw the world now,
before he went back,
He harkened and shouted at Twitter to all feeds.
will and always will,
stay the same,
no matter what timeframe.“
Without a sound,
He gave me something to think,
“So we still are the same?”
He vanished just like Obi,
Left me dumbfounded here.
Damn, he took my treasure,
That old silly blue black fountain stylus,
That I paid almost a hundred.
The anima in me gave me my love for you.
The animus in you took my loneliness away
it knew and told me to spend my days with you.
In that dream what we ought to
and supposedly how to cherish;
a passing year with all emotions,
that runs deep upon in and out of a microsecond of any moment.
The Id was walking with Self,
It took its hand and gave a reassuring loving pressure.
Then Ego saw everything and it became jealous in an instant.
While super ego remained silent yet felt lonesome and wanted to comfort ego.
Attitude came along and crept around ego and told it that envy and jealousy can murder your heart,
It was telling ego let it go for it wont do him any good besides superego needs to be comforted by you.
A brain functions as an instrument.
The skull then houses the form it structures all that hosts all vessels.
Yet only the mind can be influenced and inspired by feelings.
Where all thought and memory collides all in one,
When that Id fights with Ego.
Thus a human being loved its own self to know,
What pain can make up in one’s own brain.
The wind died
as my ego stormed in
that wooden door.
Why then that tequila
tasted a little sour,
when its lime turned into a lemon.
As I will head out,
my Id did not left,
only to whisper and shout
while waiting for a stubborn
burro to come into the scene.