munopa

[munopa]

The story of Happyman

Happy man.

A toddler then.

Stay in the home mom told him then.

Don’t go outside see it throughout the vents.

Happyman so eager to know.

What the outside he was restricted from could hold.

Asking, “mom can’t we go out today, its not cold.”

It is what you’re expecting, the reply was cold.

Growing up he seemed very odd.

Same aged boys playing out in the snow.

Happyman only got a blur of this oh.

At one point our internal afflicted urges are unleashed.

Happyman’s joys were to finally be freed.

Happyman’s success was for his mom to get his plea.

She left and he got to flee.

Lets get in his head.

As he set his tiny boot on the door step.

With his tiny nose inhaling guilt intoxicating innocence.

The snow’s chills striking his skin inside a double coat with fur.

He surely had ‘Maddy’s everything everything’ feeling.

Going outside and getting the experience he was always wishing.

Guess he doubled not believing his mom cause she said wishing on stars are just perfidiousness.

The heart pound energy stopped the cold’s freezing.

He started to be believing.

He had gone outside the house, he escaped all his grieving.

He had the ‘I don’t know where to start’ feeling.

Happyman saw a rolled boll of paper.

He changed the vivid focus to the sole tether.

As the wind was blowing it to the road like a feather.

Happy man was following till they were stuck together.

The rolling stopped at the middle of the street.

This inert random entity to him was but a streak.

He didn’t even trip.

Following this not fascinating link.

What a relief.

Happyman finally at ease.

The paper stopped rolling and he just had to walk to the scene.

This was about to turn into a bad day for a 40 yo driver.

This was about to become a grieving day for a 19 yo single mother.

This was to become the last day to a four year old toddler.

This is the moment of suspense to the understanding reader.

It was a crash.💔

Black tar turned to red punch. 🩸

With happyman’s blood.

Taking his last breath underneath an old car.

He remembered, “son don’t ever go out the house.”

Exhale!

_Trust Munopa.

[munopa]

The light of the moon.

365 Introduction of the Mission. Moon.

I’m Jonathan, the not so famous truth writer in the contemporary year.

Let me introduce this story I gotta tell.

Same rhythm to the end I’m using my rhythm intel.

It goes...

Wake up everyday.

Today is like yesterday.

Its not hard to open my eyes, they can adopt anyway.

To the darkness everywhere.

You can pick and hold it right over there.

No demarcation, is we outside or inside the cave?

Continuation from where we were.

The smoke, fire starters never get arrested to pay.

Anyway...

Turn to another page.

The same notes are scribbled aint no change.

Shake my head to get the dreams off my head.

Get out of bed.

The sun ran away.

The moon is our dim lamp.

Strong eyes will only be saved.

Call me satanic, but lol, it seems only noctunals lead the way.

Seeing brightly, they undefiled walking on the darkness pave.

Thats right, the weirdo you call them, here to save the day.

Not the slay royalties which normality the society tamed.

Accept the moon in this ending vade.

Though its dull choice of the colour fade.

Don’t underestimate the lure of darkness, a lot drowned and couldn’t be saved