Hi all, thank you so much for your time and love. This young Indigenous man mentioned in this stream is at a cross road. All I ask of my friends and the children of our Most High is to pray for this man in this stream. I created it for Issac in God's Glory because he is you and me at a crossroad. God bless you all: https://youtu.be/nBdsGHGD0xE Good Morning, Good Afternoon, Good Evening. ADDENDUM TO MY TIME EARLIER TODAY: This post five hours ago this morning was to share new work and the creations of a new video stream given to me in God's Glory to later help a special person, The words written after a hard day's work in responsibilities and prayer. So why worry , does worrying add a single day, take your troubles, worried thoughts away? "No my little children, For I am love, mercy, kindness, and the spirit before the fast. Clean ones body, mind, and spirit, the soul is washed clean as the whiteness of the lamb. God is great." He gave us today, words for a new song, a new idea to create change. He allowed me to transition over into this day five hours ago to write this song, of which then I laid my head to sleep, struggling to stay wake. Sleep in the mess of the world, I wake up to this same day to work for my thoughts and prayers. I will see Issac, give him the video I am creating for him, and God willing the notes of the universal heavens will transcend down as gifts for you and me. The Cave of Treasures may be a story from one's time of the flesh. Flesh the same as your and mine; twisted into to weapons of hate, war, and death by the EVIL reality of this time, close and so far, smiling so sweetly, In my face, in a machine with wheels, in my thoughts as pride becomes my downfall. For I will be nothing not here, there and everywhere, but possibly pulled by minions using the communicative hot wires of the hell bound train. Myth, shit, , The excremental culture book broken into two, my songs on the floor. It is only through words, our life and deeds wil be remembered. For better or for worse, they say? Oh how ashamed I will be, on the floor before the Throne, the lamb, pierces moves his hand. Metatron shares what he records. I go to the right, I go to the left, A dream and a nightmare, I go do good deeds and works, still nothing to show, hand in hand. "Ya Ya ya ya", like my song before; Norm Bullion said, as I say today; "This is for the Native People!...{to late Baby Tramp}..You got to back me up!...)". I can write and say the truths or the lies to appease the crowd of swans and ducklings swimming in the pool of watery life, like this or that cyber-matter, ego stroked by the midnight madness of day shopping blues, TP no-where to be found. I can pretend like #45, but the flesh is the same, slowly melting away, the one of the two hundred shared the beautiful colours of illusion to tease all men of wants and pleasures. So God bless everyone one of you. Thank you for your wonderment, as words transcend time and space. One soul had his words, demons , and dreams, I visited him once, with the lack of respect for the village of the dead, I was taught a lesson that day. Mon pere lachaise cemetery, the story within the sauvage story of life, as my burgundy queen reminded me of the weakness of my flesdh, blook spilling on the ground from my foot. Unworthiness to share time with the souls of greatness and shame. I walked to find my friends, Gave tobacco and prays to the one I smeared, meeting late Morrison laying there every so sweetly, humans giving praise to a pop culture idol transcending time and space. I gave tobacco again, as ones and others asked for a picture of me between the "Morin" family grave, and the grave of the one who wrote "...light my fire." God rest his soul. Merci Michelle Campbell, you were there, that fateful day, we walked among the great emptiness of life, creation and death, Artists and great humans to remember what was won and lost? BREAK I apologize for all these words, , the taking of time and space, but should I? Conditioned to please, symbolic connected to "To plead". Janice Toulouse said "please" transformed from the notion of the poor pleading, begging from the rich. The great Artist Janice Toulouse, an artist and medicine woman who saved me. IF people do not know, we lived together for year and some, but my addiction was the worse of me then. Forgive me Janice, IT is through our women ,we are taught the "Goodness of the Creator, and men watch today, as Naomi tells Ruth about the rewards of an over flowing cup. God, work and humility governs the day but we are all fallen, and words will be remembered. as God teaches me. IT was a battle in the mind, as this song started in the back ground of life 2017 when as Job, the cards were dealt, cosmic words shared and exchanged, my writing changed and began that day in praise of God, an angel of passed time , now over my son and grand daughter. Dorian, I miss you daily, you are the blessing she gave me. Grandchild, read this some day. So yes, you will worry, but please do not, Understand why I write these words, "For [our] days are numbered. as Metatron records the day. It is for Isaac I realized yesterday as today continues. God bless you again for your time and ears and eyes. XOXOXO Now . .. If one wants to hear the audio of the video, I am creating now go to my number one music site to hear it. We have all been there! END OF ADDENDUM Tansi? My days are numbered, God is great, thinking of a young indigenous man at a crossroad, just like me so many years ago. Now today, at that same crossroad, I put my hands in the Creator's hands for the battle ahead. https://youtu.be/nBdsGHGD0xE