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I like to gravitate and settle towards
what rightfully and strongly attracts me,
were the truth is better than a make believe.
I do not need to be in a desperate haste,
were some succeed in desperate enterprises.
I don’t need the hectic soup, with ingredients of imperfect,
that inflames the tinder of a mortal brain.
I am an individualist,
curved by troublesome insistence and conscience.
with pain shall I erect a heaven of blue glass over myself,
disposed to strive after perfection.
I am an individualist
mixed in the thrilling and glorious hours,
that surges my heart with surface feelings.
for no man looses on lower levels by magnanimity on a higher level.
I am an individualist
who passes invisible boundaries, were there is an incessant influx of novelty into the world.
Where the bottom is solid everywhere, were false finders find faults even in paradise.
I may not be extravagant enough and may not wonder enough,
beyond the narrow limits of my daily experiences.
I am an individualist
whose exotic doctrines in foreign minds,
are bound sporadically by their codes.
To confess their griefs moderately, through infirmity of natures
I am an individualist
were a smile can be stitched, were no fatal faults of mine found,
when I chiefly fear for my expressions, it is near the bone were life is the sweetest.
I mean my life and live it, I don’t call it names or shun it,
to clear ancient harmonies.
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