What do I want to talk about?
I unconsciously know the answer, but subconsciously I refuse to endow my consciousness to act upon the answer.
Like I am in the dark in a room full of light. Perhaps there is a paper bag over my head, but do I want to take it off?
When I find the light, I put it out. Why?
That’s a good question. Perhaps the negative influence, the consistency of inconsistency surrounding me due to a restrained, quarantined atmosphere.
However, there is a release, the unclenching of an unaddressed emergency break. How is it done? Well, I will tell you when my subconsciousness let’s go.
In Love & Sincerity,
I can relate, keep pushing