Trust!

GO WEIGHTLESS

Grasping for your energy right now... to pull over me like a thin blanket, and curl up in our magic... laying before a fan gently blowing fantasies across my mind... beneath a ceiling that displays the dancing ambient flickers of this candle - scented “The Best of Us”...

Let my desires be a pillow for your mind to rest on... the rhythm of my touch to lullaby your anxieties... the whispered ramblings of my love for you keeps your body afloat and boyant on a bed of continual beloved becomings... the gentle sincerity of each kiss i place on your forehead remind you that this dream is real... and each kiss of your lips takes your breath as you go weightless...

-Pati3ntWo1f (08192020)

A Poet’s Chance - 1am & 3 Hour Drive (10.25.20)

The second verse AND how he sings it... and how it feels while i listen to it rn (after watching a 25min doc how this song was made - Netflix) and after that feeling, that all-ness in my chest we all call our heart (the idea)...

and the sensation like drinking ice cold water after having a peppermint... or breathing in freezing air while not dressed for the weather and its like with each breath you can feel your entire respiratory system... but, place that feeling in your heart (the idea) and feeling the gap, the hole in the all-ness... and feeling it whistle as your breathing cadence slows and deepens and swells as you sense it... the missing…

Its space

Its empty volume

And the phantom feelings faintly teasing, haunting, ghosts of what was... what I used to be able to and did feel

... the thoughts ... they echo like questions ... with no response, just these feelings, imaginings, swells and hollow whistles…

And the song repeats, again

I’ve lost track of how many times, because I set it, intentionally to repeat... and trap me here…

Because I felt it... i feel it... and morbidly am too excited to feel the

All-ness of my heart (the idea) again... that i am sorrowfully enjoying

The cold air exposing the hole, the missing, the empty space of me.

-Pati3ntWo1f (102520)

Retracing: I miss you too

I trust that upon a kiss i will taste a flavor that i have unknowingly longed for all my life.

That upon a hug i will feel the comfort my mother always wished for me.

That i will smell of you a scent from my last and our future.

And that i will feel... while interlocked with your body, your skin...

The meaning of Heaven on Earth, the fruitfulness of milk and honey and something promised, the vastness of our potential and the lack of limits before US... i will feel our destiny.

-Pati3ntWo1lf

#pati3ntwo1lf

Continue to enjoy your immediacy, your wanted moments, your convenient satisfactions, your less offered infatuations, you right now

Although the statement of “the whole world does not revolve around you” is a truthful statement... its delivery and sentiment is bestowed upon one as spiteful and controlling and imposing on one’s motivations... therefore I intentionally repeat:

Continue to Enjoy Your Immediacy, Your Wanted Moments, Your Convenient Satisfactions, Your Less Offered Infatuations, YOU, Right Now!!!

-Pati3ntWo1f

you don't need a nickname. your presence is such that those who hear of you already know whom the person speaking is referring to... somehow, it just comes off differently from the speaker. an inability to filter the aura you permiate - thus since energy is neither created nor destroyed, the speaker simply holds your aura's energy (weightlessly) until it is transferred with their chosen medium after being queued to release by their thought of you and whatever they desire to communicate on such related subjects.

-Pati3ntWo1f (111820)

To the present day “Joanna”s:

On behalf of those with your ear and not your attention; towards the benefit of those with your attention and its spoils; for your health and happiness; because of our unheard desires: see thyself as those with your ear do -beautifully badass. Let not your heart wander so far as you to forget that... for those with your ear turn to whispers the farther away you drift, and those whose possess your attention are not promised to be attentive.

Don’t lose sight of yourself; nobody in this world is worth you losing your shit. There’s no reason to act jealous, be possessive, and allow yourself to become sad and desperate. If someone doesn’t like you, who fucking cares? Find one who does. If your significant other makes you feel like shit — they’re fucking shit — bury them in a sandbox, forget about ‘em, and move on. Don’t be like Joanna of Castile. Don’t ruin your life and your reputation with insecure obsession . . . Born in 1479, Joanna (Spanish spelling, “Juana”) was the third child of Queen Isabella of Castile and King Ferdinand II of Aragon. But this royal privilege didn’t stop her from working hard to improve herself. As a young woman, she spoke six languages, excelled in religious studies, was active in equestrian sports, played music, and could dance with the best of them. Plain and simple, Joanna was a fucking badass. She was smart AND beautiful; this obviously attracted the attention of men. And, in 1496, she married Philip of Habsburg, also known as “Philip the Handsome.” Seriously, the dude’s nickname was PHILIP THE HANDSOME — are you fucking kidding me? He must have looked like Idris Elba and Ryan Gosling had a baby the height of Dwayne The Rock Johnson. My point, even Philip’s handsome ass wasn’t worth “losing it." But, Joanna couldn’t resist, she let her imagination get the best of her and became paranoid that he was going to cheat. Her insecurities intensified and her mental instability grew evermore apparent around the kingdom. She was like a fucking vulture, constantly swarming over Philip, checking his iPhone, and demanding his email passwords. Needless to say, it was sad to watch. She was once such a smart, intelligent, confident woman. Not even Philip’s surprise death in 1506 quelled her insecurities. She wouldn’t allow nuns to approach his corpse before his burial — afraid he’d put his ghost boner in one of them. In the end, Joanna of Castile became known as “Joanna the Mad,” leaving behind a reputation of being pathetically jealous, instead of beautifully badass. Well, you just learned some fucking history. You’re welcome. Now, enjoy your Sunday, you beautiful idiots. #SUNDAYSCHOOL

Well…

Just bathe in my praises. Soak in them. Let them warm, rinse, clean… play in it, rest in it… submerge yourself at will, float on a whim, dip whichever and all the parts of you on a want. Praises will keep flowing from my lips. My well of expression will never run dry. It’s yours!

- pati3ntwolf (07092023)

The thoughts that explode like thunder and crackle down paths of thoroughness as meticulous and effortless and natural as lightning’s dance…

Our heat generates wind in this cold world, thus storms follow… however they are often misunderstood… for what is of nature is of nurture… and our innate nature is to nurture.

And we do… boldly, bravely, beautifully, bountifully…

Brutally…

Not in violence but sacrifice.

Cost is simply a question of what one is willing to give and …

I Give All To and For My Muse;

Thus we breeze and bellow and blow houses down, we mist and sprinkle and rain and pour and flash flood, we warm and bathe and tan and bake and scorch and smolder…

We still and babble and flow and splash and whirl and current and rapid and waterfall…

We speak without words and converse without hearing… we’ve evolved communication to a beyond, and then back to simplicity.

Seeing you was a novel with no title or chapters or page numbers or order - just worlds of words already known, and attachments of “if spoken or not”; welcoming me to unravel - now - what i’ve already know and grown to love…

Hearing you is the life of the imaginative mind, well prompted and eager to delve, connect, betroth, and ascend, … explorative and fanciful, detailed and connotative, genuine and beholding… our amplify, our soundtrack, our praise, our outcry, expression, our honesty, our pleasure…

Inhaling the nostalgia of times felt, but not readily known, the total body calming recognition of your essential bodily oils scent… the riveting, compelling, memorable, convincing, time bending accelerant that is “smells of you”… its welcoming, identity, intoxicating influence on all my other senses, its air - its 2nd to oxygen… its mix-ability, how it blends, transforms, transfixes with mine… how it evolves, elicits, enthralls and enchants as “ode de OURS”…

And Our Touch, our… feel, our gateway, our ascension, our vehicle, transponder, in-tune-ment, enhancement, limiter that we’ve made limitless - taking the most finite, transfixed, selfish of senses… and making it a vessel to the lost infinite, complimentary thus encompassing, selfless of the senses… our literal connection that bridges my energy to yours… and then we… hmmm… light up the sky and more…

Yet and still… tasting you is foreign and distant, reminiscent from your scent and vouched for by your touch and encouraged by the sight of you.. and although hearing falls deaf with pre-influence, it resounds and reverberates to be used as the result of… of my insatiability with tasting all of you…

Betwixt each kiss and lingering with each lick, enough within each suck and… Mmmmmm… sorry. Confidence within my Assurance is now lesser than the Eagerness propelling my Performance… my lightning dance, my natural nurture of you and us, my sacrifice, my smolder, my splash, my spoken or not, my outcry, my mix-ability, my energy to yours… the my in “Us”, the my in “Ours”, the my in “for you”…

And “We” still seem to exceed these enhanced basics, these connected selfishnesses, these overwhelming urges to reconnect and exist as we are… together & beyond

As…

We…

Are!

- Pati3ntWo1f (011122)

It is innate, an unthought action that comes automatically, an impulse with meaning and a goal, an instinct...

To gaze back with the intensities of fear and intrigue and excitement and belonging, to anticipate the risk and its thrill, to be entranced ever so helplessly yet ever so willingly, to respond...

Of the spectacle of sparks continuously reflecting your passioned outlook on me and this world, of being within heats’ range of burning desire’s furnace tempting such cure from my heart’s cold, of the nature that attracts moth to flame i am also beckoned and baited and boisterous, of my own impassioned and sincere convictions...

And yearn to dance within the radiance of your cinders and ambers, and tempt fate by how closely i position myself to rest and stoke your fires to flicker as though enraged with enjoyment, and crave the lullaby of your luminance and caress every hue of you with adoration and acceptance, and approach your goddess with agape and adventure and without admonishment.

- Pati3ntWo1f (100220)

I must try! Wishing...

you have been visited by the seven magic dragon balls your biggest wish will be granted but only if you reblog