Ignoring Stealth.

The hours are rumaging through the streets of repition, as if the clock was a stallion. The entertainment has kept a man occupied through a timestorm. Surrounding nonsense becomes peacefully ignored with no choice but to do so in the first place. Imprisoned, emtombed, and silent, the thoughts and ideals begin to pour. Imagination River soaks the kingdom of intelligence and stinging irritability is shut out by sounds, sounds of revolving. Once then eyes are shut the image comes into play which just illustrates such a smile on the shooter's face. Almost as if invisible it seems to these ones close-by. The imagery of stealth all of the sudden slams the chaotic world to a bracing hault. Just what if, what if riding the water-colored wheel is at hand right now. Quiet, distant, non-disturbing, these qualities are sprout without any alerting notice. Although still in view, motions and actions are completely ignored which blossoms into a indifferent inhale of peace. Tasting stealth, tasting the air of your own world, and the only ones noticing are your fellow ghosts. Interruption? I beg to differ, more along the thin lines of companionship and recognition. Once again, another long-wished childhood dream, is finally met through the mind.