A place to be Creative

If you know that my soul is going to drown to death, then I implore you to build ways to make sure all can be creative.

Several nights ago, I had a dream of me trying to manifest myself and of the womb of water. Yet, bubbles were coming from me of my fizziness, I saw my eyes glowing and the bubbles may have been parasites eating my flesh while my soul looked up towards the light of the surface of the water. A drowning sensation of feelings and debt shackles around my ankles as a site by light to see as punishment of bulling God is of me to be. Yet, I want to step out of the water, I want to get out, I want to breath of air and I cannot because of a confusion of choices the parasite's toxic numbing anesthetic into the skin and flesh barreling into my body be. A cooling drowning feeling as water fills my lungs and make my heart cold as the ice it truly is; yet it is the parasites that are parts of God's darkness too.

A place to make things that derive the infinity and make sure that all are comfortable, a place where it is only knowledge and fear can coexist without harming each other. A place where there is no other way to lose one's clay.