 We routine our lives in and out of worry and complain about problems that are created, not of the creator. This illusion we think until our everyday is real, but we are here, so it feels like something that could break the road to the other side. The pothole paved, fork in the soup, the loop we attempt to stay in is just deja vu. To think is to pray. Do you trust or just believe? The magic in the skin of black and brown spirits knows of no such thing as sin. It's just the illusion again. The cycle continues. Breathe. Live.