I collect whispers

by cielopop

Welcome to rehab planet.

Hi, my name is Samantha, and spirituality is my drug.

The hall is decked with addicts of all kinds. Rage, rape, rake, raid. Oxytocin, adrenaline. Dreams of peace and love.

Here, demons are our savior — the shit they put us through wake us up.

One thousand words stating nothing. One thousand terajoules of emotion invested in fleeting illusion.

Frenzy is not inspiration. Madness is what you get when your fuel is other people’s energies, the news, wealth and lack thereof, hunger, persecution, holes in our hearts, holes in our clothes.

Inspiration is, by the way I’m not your teacher I’m not a professional, YET.

But my guess is, it comes when you sit so still that you begin to hear the breath of God, beyond the static noises from your mind

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