Peteroo's Blog

When life feels imbalanced and a blur–geomalism unable to equipoise a soul set askew, there exists, on the horizon, a warmthful peace–within reach.

Only those who thole the trials between dusk and dawn will develop the ability to see the brights beyond the shadows.

Let not the pursuit of that which is both hidden and hoped retreat to shade’s security for fear will turn dreams into adiaphorons, brakes that break the irreparable.

Lost in a forest for the trees, needs feel ever afar, seen and never touched. But, the unicorn lives neither under palm nor rainbowed sky; residing inside the self, truest joy is always nigh. ; )

Neither law nor despot can control my right to be free; cheers to freedom of choice and individuality.

Just as quattrocento art enlightened expression in a more classic sense, spirits can oft illuminate sincerity from realms tense.

Alacrity to overcome that which fears comes, always, from within, but certainly a bit of help is welcome from a glass brimmed with mixer and gin.

Even the most pervicacious soul will not change this mind for self serves own interests and joys, unfettered from onuses that bind. ; )

Dreams of mice wrapped in Muenster may sound cheesy, but, in fact, it is just oneiric polysemy.

Booping the nose of a slumbered feline seems a tad-bit risky. Tychism suggests end may be lick rather than bite, but, still, have ready some whisky.

Mewers enjoy short stories before they konk out for the day; an opusculum about mowsers makes an ideal hit to the hay.

Meow, bumfuzzle not a sleepy kitty by fuzzing their bum; they do so enjoy their wakeful time smoothing it with their tongue.

Whether they dream of being a lion or an inside kit, may snooze bubbles pop with joys of nip and wit. ; )