Thoughts Illusions and Patterns of A Bohemian Gypsy

He had to do something he didn't want to do. But that does not mean he would not readily and willingly accept the outcome. Its the how to get it done he wasn't too keen on. Drinking his beer pondering the task at hand, and just like that he snapped himself out of it. No point in thinking about it right now. It was sure to happen so why not just go with it. Taking time to plan out the more important details of course. He could feel it coming on. That feeling in his gut ever so slowly growing more and more intense. Leaving him with almost absolute emptiness. Not scared in anyway, just slightly paranoid about something going wrong.Which is a delusional thought, because it only leads to bigger and worse thought patterns. Which, you and only you are projecting outwardly constantly. So, it manifests. You must crucify this treacherous unproductive way of thinking at the source, before it gains strength. Its no way for a man to live. Bound by his fear of fear itself. A shallow, dark

The moon light was falling, gently, so silently if you listened close enough you could hear the almost in-audible  rumble of a heart, preparing for an exertion of energy. This heart, so light with freedom of will and natural beauty, had a secret. Remarkably similar to a "little white lie", but far more serious in nature and much more cunning in it's ways of romance. Finding its way in, unnoticed by the damned. He stood alone atop the pent house suite, in the heart of downtown Dubai. Gazing over miles of  dense white sand. Below him the city was illuminated like a carnival of stars, in the clearest blue pond. He stood tall, firm and very rigid, almost stoic in pose. Completely lost in a trippy world of thought. Normally about this time in the evening is when it begins. A hard day of work dealing with mundane banalities, which ironically enough is what affords him the life he lives. A gentle flic of his thumb to bring fire to life with the green lighter. A cherried ember