******. No white guy can say that, right.
People who can truly call themselves ******* can. *****-***** ****, W.O.P.,
maybe they can say ******, okeh. But they say it mean,
knowaddamean.
What'sbout Jewboy?
Can the Kaffen kid say ******?
Sand-******, but not ***** ******. Hecan say ****, too. And *** and *****.

Oy vey, okeh. We can take it. We can take it all. Rules is rules.

That's right. Wanna fight? Wanna be my enemy?

--- Grandpa had a play date. ***- Where's the Fun?
These kids got no guns.
And no enemies. Except imaginary ones.


Greedy little master mind sprouting odd fruits from Pokémon.
Can we make this work? Perfect it, in effect?

Marbles, maybe we can teach that old game and go from there to the funnest parts of FTA... Findtheanswer, like God and Adam played. The rules are some same, bounds, fudges and such. Keepsies, ante-ups and such, too.
Risk is right if-I-can-tation.
Losses can be baked, clayballs,
while momma bakes our daily bread.
Poor kids can make marbles in the sun, since forever, I am sure. Rolly-polly patti and johnny cakes roll marbles into spoons,
Momma knew that stuff. She could shake butter into cream, singin' along Que sera, sera, whatever will be
will be,

but it won't be the death of me,
watch and see,
babu boy oh boy
---
We can play war until we die, but don't tell the children.
They are the price we are to pay. They must believe.

We swore allegiance for security. We thought it best
for the kids to lie.

You know?
I believe, you know. It's unbelieving I need help with.

Can't you see? We swore allegiance and taught it has become the  honor-us-course-us-po-deserve-us ritual. A rite we pass for the protection of the eagles gathered around the body.

We are proud of our children who die taking
the courses called for, we never ask why,
except when we cry. Silently, inside.

It's our role to remember the glory
of our children dying for the IDEA that lives
in the statue of Freedom
under which our laws allow
might is right, if God was ever on our side.

You know what I mean.
Say so. You know the lies are being told.

Stop believing that is okeh, eh?

---
Mussleman dominance meme manifests once more to battle the flood of knowing being re-leased or bought, outright, to aid the seekers seeking the meta game.

F.T.A, remember? Find The Answer. Same rules as Hide and Watch,
"All ye, all ye, outsiders hidden in our midst, in free."

"Send me your- poor, huddled masses",
remember being proud of that idea.
Poor thing, lady libertine, so tarnished now that not even Iaccoca's glory loan could gild the actions she sanctioned in the name of the republic for which she (a proxy mate, feminine aspect of God) stands. Sig-n-if-i-cious-ly.

Seig Freud, we say, with the statue of freedom watching over the legislative body, she stands
quite similar to Diana of the Ephesians,
in her role as mob solid-if-er, if I know my mythic truths been told.
---
Trink, trink, trinkits gits the good good luck,
light m'fire witcha spark and see
a light in the night when the noises pending terrors flee.

Rite, we passed those places ages ago, now we hear echoes, only we know them, for we have been taught,
what echoes ever are.
Our own terrors screaming back at us.

Alot of lies are taught wrong
and a sleeping giant in a child may dream
of other ways to see.
New windows on new word worlds expressed in
HD Quad-processed reality
simulations. You know,
child eyes see right through those.

Exactly that happened. Slowly at first.
Good is more difficult to believe
you are expert enough to try doing than is evil.
Read it again.
This couplet or line, as time will tell.

Don't ignore known knowns,
stand up under the weight of knowing good and knowing evil.
Be good.

We know from conception,
we think,
whatever it takes means
take what ever we think right,
pursue happenstances in the favor of my father's world,
provided for me, the kid.
\
The son, a first-man son,
some several thousand generations removed.
Lucky some body stored the good stuff in the mitochon'orhea, right.
We'd be powerless. O'rhea, double stufft, blessusall.

Otherwise lies are left for kids to learn,
but not to
be left true,
as when they first was told.

Our sibyl e-gran mals tol' em true,
as they knew what they passed through, to the moment, then...

Around the fire, dancing shadows, make them play.
All ye, all ye outs, in free!

See dancing shadows, en-joy my joy, be strong,

long strong, sing along, long, long song

and laugh until you die.
---
Some con-served ideas will land a man in a prison with no keys.

Imagine that. Take your time, it is no passing fancy. Be here,
with me, a while. Pleased to meet you I am, no comma needed.
Now, we may wait, whiling away a time or two is common, in mortal pauses. Are you dead or alive?

Is it dark or light? Do you see in color here, or in gray?

Who built your prison? I built mine. You'll love it, I imagine,

whenever forever flows past those old lies striving for redemption,
recycling-clingy static hairballs and ghost turds
touch, once more,
*** potentia amber atoms in cosmic chili for the soul
of the loaf-giver, warden of the feeding forces life lives
to give dead things. There's the rub.

Spark to fire? Watts to fuel the favor, Issac, can you lead us in a song? A con-serving song for when the cons a fided or feited,
defeat my sorrows and my shame,
let me see Christ take the blame.

Confidencein ignowanceus. Worsen dignitatus evawas.

Blow on it. Soft. The spark landed in that ghost **** you thought you swept away or ****** into a vortex of hoovering witnesses,
if you whew too strong, you blow yer own little light out, and have to wait for lighten-loadin' bearers
to take care from you.

That can take time, too.

It always takes a while to get deep enough to see the bottom.

Cicero, old friend...

ne vestigium quidem ullum est reliquum nobis dignitatis 

[not even a trace is left to us of our dignity]

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dignitas(Romanconcept)>

See, from a single spark,
touching a volatile bit o' whatever,
you may see the root of the Roman canker sore
yomamma kistyawit.
And be on yo way,
satisfied minded there do seem to be a way, each day, just beyond the evil sufficiency we find soon after the morning's mercy's been renewed.

And may, if it may be,
ye see a rich man wit' a satisfied mind
and may that man be me in your mirror, as it were.

Carry on, as you were.
Or walk this way, a while,
mind the limp. I'll set the pace.
It ain't a race, y'lil'squirt.

Wait'll y'see.

Waiting is time's only chore this close to shore.

What manner of men are we, who could be our enemy?
What name makes me your enemy?

What peace can you imagine when no words carry hate?
Can you imagine evil peace?
Cromwell n'em said they could make peace wit' war.
They lied.
Their lies remain lies,
evil knowns
good to know, on the whole.

Knowing makes believing count for more than idle
oaths of loyalty to memes mad
from the first of forever to now.

now. stop. This is the bottom. I know the way from here.
Do you?
You can say so, but you never know,
if you never make the climb.

And that can take forever, I've been told.

*** with me is so amazing      
Hey, I’m just Paraphrasing      
However, I was listening to the artist, Rihanna singing this song      
As the song kept plugging along      
Not meaning to come on too strong      
With respect do not get me wrong      
I’ve often wondered, is *** of the body more powerful than *** of the mind      
And no, I do not have a feminist ax to grind      
I will choose my words on this topic and remain kind      
Well, at best that I can      
From my perspective related to this issue between woman and man      
Making love to the female body its ******, it’s pleasurable, and certainly it’s thrilling      
But once nature’s release has been prefilled      
The mind needs a dose of endorphins to be instilled      
Are you still with me on that concept      
I’m speaking for me who needs the combined effect
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
With someone capable of emotional grazing      
Blind dates, we talk about our passions or dreams      
Clothes still on, however, he gets what you mean      
Do we take this night one step farther      
We slept together      
Heated and passionate under silk covers, yet, he knew nothing about the weather      
We were definitely birds of a different feather      
His arms were not even that strong      
His brain got duller as the night prolonged
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sometimes is not all about trailblazing      
Computer Dating      
Keyboard translating      
Breathless words of debate      
Soulful elate      
No physical contact to rate      
But wait      
You can type on computer keys from sunrise to sunset      
If you cannot be bipartisan with words than you can’t articulate      
A break to give since we’ve just met      
Between you and me it’s now mental Russian Roulette      
Spinning my mind landing on red      
Keep your mouth closed as you lay in my bed      
Enticing words danced across my screen      
Pulling me in was all a squandered dream      
We’ll never again experience emotions under the covers      
****** of no analytical bonding from a distance lover      
Once again, a horse of another color 
     
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
In the midst of me praising you as our eyes are glazing      
One night stands      
First of all, you’re taking your life into your own hands      
No commands        
Sedated and scented juices mingling of its passion galore      
Lust filled desires and so much more      
No demands      
Talking on the go, and making no sense, well I be ****      
What a waste of a slam bam and thank you ma’am      
Mental *** on the brain I know it may sound insane      
But my God, it makes me rain      
Intellectual simulations have always been such a turn on      
Take me to task and then I’m far gone      
Rainbow coalitions      
I do not have any petitions      
Never in favor of anyone’s competitions      
Just me, my words, and I      
Reaching for that academic all time high      
Coming at you as I’m ******* with you      
The next morning, I would have told you a thing or two      
Something old or maybe something new      
It all depends on if I’ve pitied a fool      
Not my game, not in my arms      
Not fooled by undercover charms      
Capture my mind until the ringing of my alarm      
Wow, did we really just talk all night long      
Arms were very strong, your mind kept me warm while we discussed society’s storms      
One night stands      
Never with an intelligent man      
He needs a briefcase or a blueprint plan      
He could execute with his own mind      
On his own time      
Using his own dime      
Then he’s ready for my mind      
No prophylactics needed      
Once you gyrate my mind you’ve succeeded      
Feeding me words from the depths of your cerebral cortex to the powers that be      
Lightening my mind up like a Christmas tree      
Now you got me down on my knees      
Thanking you, as I please      
Was it good for you as it was for me
      
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Mind now resting in a dreamy phase, body has now been thoroughly praised      
Here comes the aftermath of sweet melodies to conversations      
Moaning out all kinds of pronunciations      
Affirmations      
Aspirations      
French words with exclamations      
Giving me perceptual palpitations      
From the knowledge of head ministrations      
Climbing the psychological throne once again      
While whispering words in my ear as my mind adheres      
Once mental energy has been locked in      
Slow dancing, and then a thrusting rush as we begin      
Words of revelations      
Taking my mind beyond the constellations      
To the height of my glorious crown      
I’ve created, rested, and now the essence of my intellect is winding down      
Mental capacity has once again been meticulously interrogated      
Hearts of the minds now segregated  
    
*** WITH ME IS SO AMAZING
Sweet words whispered to your male ego, minds blazing        
Perceptual notations moving inside of me      
Bending me over, as you lick up and down my womanly creed      
A passionate quick kiss as your mind sinks into my intellectual abyss      
From my mind to your fathom lips      
Seductively gyrating my hips      
Raising the nature of your hard ****      
Love and Hugs        
Soft tongue bathing your body, massage oil, and caressing rubs

Feel empty in your post apocalyptic City of Angels,
Where not even your pets are real!
An electric android, a sheep or a frog,
The whir-flutter of micro-electrical wings of a butterfly.

Good, and so you ought.

Now grab the handles of your empathy box,
And in a shared virtual hallucination –
Feel: empathy, depression, pain, delusion and despair,
The outré myriad gifts of consciousness.

Billions of discombobulated and disconnected wrecks:
Adam's sons; Eve's daughters,
And among them simulations too,
Fakes! androids!
A phony circuit of implanted semi-conscious memories,
A hive of neural malaise!
Welcome to our world;
know how dead inside I am.

You, yes, you:

Need a pet to make you more complete?
Maybe you can afford
A Fake Fakir Flake like me who looks like Jude Law,
Sounds like Richard Burton,
And silently romances you like Rudolph Valentino.
Come and stick what’s left of your mind,
In here,
In hair,
Hear her:
har, har, har…

A box of lies...

A voice, Mercer's,
With texture from an age you neither lived in nor dared in:
Al Jerry's, a TV actor,
Droning on in pre-selected tones.

The real thing, the men, the women, the children - their animals -
Made in the wild, wild desert,
In the green pulsing savannah,
On the open crusted sea;
Now too, washed, choked, and drained,
Too many spliced and diced mutations,
Iterating your image:
The thing that was my heart,
My Child, now its imitation.

A hand on a throat, where if all fingers touch, the throat
turns to ash. The villain of an anime I now watch
clutches the hero with his middle-finger aired
before the vital moment. I jump
on holiday off a cliff
and my chest stumbles with simulations. My body angled
poorly as I could slap headfirst. I was warned that my feet
should sink first if I merely fall. If I dive, my fingers
should first touch the water. I am depressed
the months before. College student, America. So far off, so cold
from the landlock of my birth. And the summer
study-abroad, double-abroad. In Italy
I was watching the Creation show itself on old ceilings
in marble-rooms, looking for some culture
that might have been ours if not for the pillagings that brought
gold and bodies to shape that gold into buildings like this. So I jump
and fall. And shiver emptily. It is the same feeling as the nights
on the bed thinking of futures without this self. Thinking as if
I did not exist. Ignored emails from therapists. And here this
feeling!: it made me want to live. So I jump again
on the higher ledge. My friend afterwards asks if I'm okay.
I'm shaking slightly. I'm without words. I laugh
with the same absence as any birth. A baby's confused cry
without tears. A long way down. What blue-green water,
as if dug for in the earth and sold for courtyard dances.
It glimmers all over my body, frizzes
up my hair as my ****** curls soak it, squeezes it down my face,
down towards my neck like fingers.
The villain walks away. The next time the hero sees him
he should be careful. He will have decided to **** me by then.

Authors: Two misunderstood teenagers

(a.l) Do you believe in soul mates?
    (m) I absolutely do; I believe I may have met mine just recently in fact. I believe that two souls are destined to eventually cross paths and feed off each other's mindsets.

(a.l) if I may ask, how do you know? And what makes you believe that everyone has a soul mate? And evolving around Plato's Symposium, how does the sun and the moon become into the soul mates topic? I'm just curious to why people fall in love with people who don't love them back but claim to be soul mates.
    (m) I've found that everyone's mind is compatible with another. I'm not the one to fall for "fake" mates of the soul. Simply, if two minds are exactly identical and feed off the energy of one another, I feel it may be destine to become soul mates. The sun and the moon are the reasons for all life imaginable, they feed off each other, so I view them as soul mates.

(a.l) How do you know if someone is your soul mate? And what about the topic of "opposites attract" if one has the same mind as another, wouldn't they clash or may they be more compatible?
   (m) Honestly this topic is utterly impossible to decipher to another unless they were upon the same theory. Opposites in things other than the soul attract, thus the two souls become one.

(a.l) Interesting, i'm intrigued by Plato's mind. Simply, because ive never seen a couple that was completely right for each other. What other theories do you believe in?
  (m) The Human Matrix! How we are all somehow connected by choices and accidental collisions. This is merely the mind of a philosophy student.

(a.l) Tell me more about this Human Matrix theory, does it have to do with fate or chance? How about consequences of the choices we make?
   (m) It's a theory of how the universal alignment is caused by simulations of human minds and creation.

(a.l) So the universe is just a part of our imagination, nothing is real?
   (m) Yes, the universe relies off of human invention, since not a single soul can truly determine the creation of it. The Multiverse theory expresses that it is all a figment of imagination; the start of time itself.

(a.l) That's fascinating, how everything and nothing is real, a paradox really! Why do people that talk about and what comes after it?
   (m) I believe we are all born only to eventually see our deaths, to meet death himself. People have a mindset that after death is oblivion. Simply out of comfort.

(a.l) But isn't death oblivion already? I mean we don't truly understand what happens after it, I usually think that maybe we aren't really dead or heaven/ reincarnation doesn't exist, but no one ever knows.
   (m) I feel that those who have been able to experience a death-relevant situation are the only few souls who may know the outcome of death itself.

(a.l) So what are your views on death, and the consequences? What are your beliefs that just how humans (some) know the outcomes of their choices but still do the wrong things. What is really right and wrong, why do people fall in love with the wrong people? I'm rambling, I just like your mind so much, and I feel like people like you have a cast mind instead of the normalcy of narrow minded people today.
  (m) Death is an outcome of the suffering one endures in living. I feel one must experience pain and happiness to only add up to the altercation of life itself and the battle of dying. All human consequences occur no matter the mind state of death, its inevitable.
  
(a.l) Does death always have to be a battle?
   (m) It's a battle of the complexity of life itself, and how it strives to conquer all living beings.

(a.l) That's a great theory! Your mind is simply flawless!

with what sense does
this sea of read
pirouette on?

the soot leaving black
blotches on the ****** sheets,
lampposts do not complain
of sudden twitches
as cacophonously, a line
of machines with their ravenous
machinisms create a seam of
crimson to a slender
rose's architecture.

i leave my engine on
so as to hand this road
my readiness,
Ely Buendia on the tattered radio
leaks outside the ajar windows,
chasing the dream of rearing
movements
as my flesh remains dreamless,
stationary.

there is a sequined gathering here.
erratic simulations of
naked eyes pierce the musk
of the austere air's gravity
of existence.

all of us
occupying space
and our attendance is our
sigh of dismay as our homes
decompose in waiting,
as our beds remind us
of our body's aging clamor,
as our ineluctable senescence
opens the dungeons of our frailties
with its trembling, wrinkled hands.

we are our waiting's consummation
as we are left here,
wary of our precise proprioception,
left in
the tongue-tied dark.

Briefly..Yes..!
Each of us is capable of
Self-Recognizing ourSelves
As Awareness aware of Itself..
Within our Aware Self
Are found thoughts and perceptions..
Appearances these are..to include
Human shapes  
Thinking and moving
Which we might aptly name:
Yes..Simulations...!

If your aim is to play games
If your aim is to hurt souls
Stay away.
Don't try to step on a soil you  don't know how to walk on.
My wild plants will eat you alive.
I am no woman to be fooled.
I will draw your limits with a brush of my arm, like the ballerina I am.
Drop the masks.
I don't like clowns and you're a really bad one.



- LynnAA

Although flummoxed by the gabble of hibernaculum I seethe with the verdant quiddity that is a cross-pollination that spans the gamut of historical memory and owns the usucaption of infrastructure equipping our bootstrapped capacities of literacy tethered to the ecumenical capacity for proliferation through amplified discernment that percolates at decorative gallop into the stridor of unified apothegms that quantify the visibilia of the broadened universe into the nexility of formula bounded by the parameters that equip synergies of space-time to envelope its own reification and magnetize urbane freebooters of coalescence to grapple with the ineffable mathematics of absorbed losses in the human fraternity becoming overlooked because of the providence of shepherded acrimony to escape the oblivion of barely marginal exponential extinctions of impropriety into fast-paced panoramas of expedited dalliance with optimums constrained by the effluvia of hinderbaggle which exist only by domineering mercurial lability of manufacture enabled by the siphon of Promethean reason to catapult the slogmarch of advancement by punctuated achievements registered by canonical gravitas to revolutionize society in longevity and interplanetary awareness that places a 1000:1 premium on a 165 IQ in comparison to a 110 IQ. Although bewildered by the beaucoup of raxed originality the anoegenetic flux of slogan achieves but a petty solidarity in comparison to the galvanized bronteum of registered invention that provides decisively seminal locomotive prowess to the foisons of promulgated ingenuity propped up by the capacity for raltention that exceeds the inherent longevity of humans on Earth into the permanence of memory to achieve radical vanguard frontiers within diminishing frames of a once vapid time recorded only through the lens of finicky preoccupations of crude retention rather than the kinship of the perceptive unity of the authors who remarked on history to share the same vantage with the distant onlookers upon that very history with such a convergence of judgments the photons that trespassed on inquisitive eyes of inquierendo are the very same blueprint for the modern savory traipse with selfsame perceptions embedded in canonical history like the spool of an exact daydream unfurled before inoculated eyes differentiated by context but achieving the same visual footprint of historical lineament provided by the original exemplar. The luxury of our provisional prosperity is the unique ability to browse spontaneously a two-century travail of perceptible records embedded in the same perceptual rudiments captured by the original vetuda thereby enabling the specificity of prowess to vicariously encounter distant gulfs of time with the simultaneous realization of past becoming present tense because beyond the revisionism of the censors the human lineage originates in approximated design tethered to the aboriginal photographs and hallmark expenditures of celluloid digitized into annealed constellation to provide separate junctures in space time with the same indelible percept decontextualized but potent by showcase of the verdure of the generosity of shared perception rather than cleaved faint traces of divergent imagination conceiving junctures by distal lurches of insular harbors of private registries of tact and discretion without the shared raltention of the plevisable entities that populate the fragmented lineage of space-time to achieve full congruence in percept first and abstract eventually as neuroscience slogmarches with the nockerslug of invidious depredation of sanctanimity. Adrift in iconoduly sustained by lambent monasticism of abnegation we were lost widows of insular idiosyncrasies of similar concepts separated by the longevity of imagination redacted into communicable formula to ensure the divergence of impact of liturgies heterodyne by vast distances but linked to archaic designs that formed the paradigms which eventually merged with the wiseacres of Renaissance conserved in momentum over centuries into the information capital that forms the futtocks of the girdle of a womb matrix of society sustained by a newfangled uniformity of exposure that slowly churns the collectivism of memory and the syndication of the cartel into the ubiquity of prominent thorns of perception magnified by iconography of the megalography of historical permanence evasive of censors and embracing the entelechy of coherent perceptions siphoned by different engineers but arriving at precisely the same conceptual imprint thereby unifying the perceptual world with the usucaption of leveraged networking of browsers of antiquity. The finesse of leapfrogs of modern human impediment is to scour the reaches of the troves of the most vivid imagination and expedite the turnstiles of conserved rollercoasters of enthusiasm probed by the cadasters capable of castophrenia to syndicalize the autonomy of human perception sejungible from indelible vivid footprints of abstraction upon an interface of truly hard-won vehicles of transmissible abstraction to win the arduous relish of once a vacuum of infested instinct into an algorithm of an intelligent source that creates the precise conditions of parallax to seed through celestial hosts the flourishes of stereodimensional traces of permanent cadaster into something that elects beyond the ethereal snatches of oblivion the provisional apportionment of sentiment above continence to set ablaze the rarefaction of raltention and quantify the intelligible impact of one artifact of civilization over the constellated taxonomy of all apothegms within the divine grasp of a sublunary eternity revived and recycled into syndicated scrutiny that bows to a convergent entelechy of instantaneous improvisation of perdurable registry into indemnities that litigate the humorous quizzical trangams of vastly outmoded obsolescence borrowing from panspermatism of technocracy to the edgy appeal of scintillating horizons of peerless scope that approximate the ommateum of approximated omniety but never span far enough for the distant riometers to see for deputized galaxies to be evoked in concrete human-alien achievements sempervirent and virulent guardians of the toil of sensation to refract off of its overhang because of redundant upbringing to shelve the incendiary impediments of the chary into the corsairs of revelation beyond gamuts of lurch and bypassing elapsed regress to arrive at ceremonial progress to trespass upon many minds with a unified concrete hypostasized entelechy of a fielded incorporation of organic life into a manufactured cycle of the most prolonged and beatific longevity capable of digestion and implementation from the toolsheds of hubris accelerated by the vainglory of subsidized harmonies that break through the barriers of language to sprout convergence in direct opposition to entropy to achieve oculate ommateum.The opponents to the logical syndicalism of positivism emergent as the verdant drape of homogenized pasteurization of raw lavaderos that capsize swallock and devour consciousness with predatory mobilism is the tregounce of the ponderous imprints of recapitulated stupidity which is easy to quantify in terms of human rarity because the difference between a 130 IQ and a 155 IQ is a difference in ingenuity power than exceeds 25:1 or an even higher margin of liquidation of indebted concatenations forming the flombricks of capitalized language finessed into burgeoned growth to radically shift postulates into abstract precision that observes the flanges of the dominion of inculcation into the filibusters of gainsay that supersedes hearsay in an evolution of the dialectic to exert transformative esemplastic rejuvenation that transcends creed and ingeminates the festivity of spectacle with the alvantage of albenture to such an extent it predicates new modalities of persiflage grounded on the aggressive patented expansion of the noosphere to inherit the instincts of orthobiosis while simultaneously inheriting the flair of redoubled ingenuity swarming with the vespiaries of predatory discretion working to ***** out glaring beacons of sapience so that intellectual capital is a local rather than ubiquitous emergence because of the prizes of urbacity enhanced by systems of masonic creed that preserved foresight with varying degrees of exactitude knowledgeable about outcomes but incidental in creating those outcomes out of the alchemy of the convergent sphere of spacetime to curve to synclastic pancratic refinement realized in the taxation of the most domineering figures of canon to indoctrinate the inkburch of wernaggle while the panorama of peripheral obscurity adduced by the resourceful few provides the progeny for a seminal equation that encounters the quandaries of precise retention amplified by the synergies of language exponentially grown by the depth and breadth of lexicon siphoned through mechanisms of percolation seeded by the convergent progeny of hindsight meeting foresight to a truce in the elected interests of the filagersion of the spotlight highlighting a universe that only exists with self-aware reification rather than plodding animated instincts of a stagnant match with a slowpoke evolution that scrawls the gabble of the vacuums of faint oblivion knowing only pain, agony and brief felicity but never registered into ecosystems capable of enriching themselves with artifices of origination rather than vapid retrenchments of the stale vapor of the exigencies that plague the intellectually bereft with tertiary deskandent perfunctory desuetude outstripped by the parsecs of the 170 crowd who secretly orchestrates the think tanks that run the furtive cryptadia of regional governance with foisons of fruition realized as dividends of exponential bypasses of even a linear route of the streamline by warping time itself to a spontaneous entelechy that triangulates a warped trigonometry that fathoms what can only be mapped on an imaginary flickering plane of fluxed existence that achieves sub-Pythagorean travel by altering the vacillating distances predicated by the theory of relativity into shortened tracts of abbreviation separating the bridgewaters of locomotion from the vast lurking prowess of reconfigured geometries lurking beyond the shadowy grave of reconnaissance into the penumbra of conservatory refinement. The punctual symmetries of thermodynamic decay met with a conversant offset in reverse acceleration of thermolysis converge with the centripetal prism of annulment to make stalemates of atomic precision appear grandiose to the economic principle of leverage acquired by debt because the discounted cost of symmetrical approximations of sentiment, abstraction and the already syndicated unity of perception vastly scale the scope of the reach of the amenable universe to tractions bound more by eccentricity of parameterized volumes of competing hyperbolas of a warped unity of tugging forces spawned by the differential weights of a flummoxed calculus that provides obeisance in ecumenical uniformity that was absent by degrees through the tinkers of time to adjust the orbits of consideration by tilted warbles of the songbirds that swim in abysses reaching sizable celestial tutelage providing reprisal for quintessential crudity mapped into a syntax of evolved refinement amplified by conserved concatenation accelerated into mastery by the coalescence of new lexicon to probe conceptual space unchartered by the nexility of normal human conduct and therefore bound to a different pattern of evolution that is oleaginous to the engines of revved ostentation in intellectual prowess that is selfsame from the majesty of heaven because of preordained populace meeting transitory flickerstorms twinged with the irony of discursive disclaimer and discretion of disclosure of emissary vehicles that power synaptic vesicles to burst with signal strength harnessing the unity of conscientiousness into a coenesthesia that fathoms interdisciplinary bridges rarely exacted by the formulas of a more rudimentary mind demarcated in taxonomies of scope that are taxemes for unrealized entelechy bristling against the headwinds of doldrum rather than zephyrs of accelerated approximations of the enumeration of elaborate sveldtang into seminal traversals of the inhibitory grasp of narquiddity exceeded by the alacrity of provident discretion in apportioned judgment enough to parameterize vast distances with instantaneous wiseacres rather than rippled mirrors of faint simulations of simultagnosia bounded by the regional scope of subliminal etches of harnessed flombricks invisible to most aptitude measures of working memory but evocative of subroutines that flourish because of the cross-pollination of exasperated sapience clambering for a perpetuity of renewable raltentions conveyed widely and succinctly in indelible tacenda broached by the wisest sophrosyne inclinations to survive the onslaught of traditional nexilities that make obtuse minds hardened by slowpoke myelination and hidebound parameters of achieved convention recursive on reiteration but not expansive on the tracts of genius reserved for the asylum boundary between insanity of delusion and bountiful riches of harvested non-conventional imagination which sometimes pollutes the integral provenance of rapid conveyance. True transcendence is summarily defined as outpacing pace itself to visibly outfox the forsifamiliation of events perceived as distance sworn by the ability of the accelerated frontier to understand the vestiges of the outmoded to the extent redintegration can surpass with imagination beyond the tethers of quddity that narrowcast swallock but refine the space that distances itself from magnitude and achieves a limited vetuda that phenomenalizes the redacted plucky perjury of self-anonymity to identify a novel visibilia of characterized clarity only specialized to the extent the vast sphere of retention exerts a gravitas over footloose fragments of disunity to surpass the skeumorphs of the trailing bolides of distant comets to avoid by meteoric trajectory the lapse incumbent to E=MC^2 which guarantees implicitly in the barter of nebbich chalky rigmarole that the energy of refinement is an abstraction limited only by the coherence of marginal dumose decay to estrange inertia as plevisable from motion and thermolysis as sejungible in partition what cannot be summarily be filibustered by the succedaneum of shortchanged shorthand convenience of the credulity of those who perceive dynamism of delivery as an easily fudged quandary not restrained by the logarithmic slowdown of conservatory inseminations of panspermatism of invention. The riddle of the enigma of neuroscience that presides over classifiable qualia is that the outstretched rax of rectiserial reorganization must gradatim invoke spurious prestige to predicate the entrapment of narrative exponentially slower than the impregnated literacy of an integral harpsichord of mind to finesse the octaves so that sublime majesties become superlative ringleaders of seditious conventions embedded more by absorptive brocrawlers than expressive werniques. We must fashion an orthobiosis that is leniency embodied but plenitude outnumbered by the progeny of its sculpted riches for extravagant spools of tapestries of refinement to be the imprints of legacy compounded by the complexities of inheritance in lineaments situated in the context of overhanging specters and domineering prospects swimming by commonwealth acatelepsy in a maelstrom of revived gammerstang notions of impetuous apostasy benighted by the macroscian and macrobian spans of the captive capture of a Taylor Series of infinite expenditure assuming perpetuity that necessarily converges on organization because of conscientious reversals of entropy into ladders of betrayal against the hegemony of ******* over the synquests of hortoriginality that spurn the castigations inherited from its immodesty of permutation to fixate on global problems of intricacy ragged in salebrosity bereft of the marginal galvanization of hidden inquirendos into artifice contingent upon elapsed epiphenomena of compounded rigmarole resonant with a simplified system of hostage complicity to a least common denominator that belongs to suboptimal refrains issued by Procrustean forces against demassified parsecs of bounded limitations exceeding the volume of perceptible shadows recessive in the alleles of culture but eventually transmogrified into teetotaler totalitarian principles of grave gravities of tabanids to the aceldamas of territorial joust rather than annealed irony of the recidivism of the plucky thorns of percurrent but latent vehicles for oppression to swamp the lethargy of durative formation such that the hambourne atrocity of hambaskets of hinderbaggle grapple mostly with the adolescent excesses of milked pleonexia becoming the downfall of cagey imprisoned syntax bereft of capable constellation and thereby stranded in vagrant proclivities that net positive only in the rare grandeur of my formative axiom of the axiolative excesses of my recensed definition of transcendence. The vacant harbor of asylum of abiding auctions of flexible transistors of wealth is inherently a poolswap of attractive chocolate-box travestime of incurred wreffalaxity suborning the lewd machination of funneled flipcreeks to the commerstargall of incendiary glaciers basking in boardrooms of ataraxic placations of commiseration found in dynamos lamenting degraded embodiments of regaled regelation as seasonal flictions of submerged vanity vaporizing the wisps of whimsical bloated grievances of paltry imparlance to the defalcation of a filigree of mind only sustained by the steady churlishness of preserved relic hibernating in brocrawler pleonasm to grindole the welter of spates of vapid deceleration of successful vibrancy measured in the gamut of hues to exact a penultimate ruse before the finitude of the capstone of capers of fiat remission slick with glamborge of gallionic sciamachy prone to revelry in the cretaceous extinction of monochromatic mathematicization of gradgrind visagists toying with the treacle of blue-sky action billowed into toxic spurts of contrarian aggression of herculean appendages of hackumber providing the bronteum of recidivism to vanquish a righteous trajectory on a pause of Canada Dry conveniences sultry in daft hipsters of tilted stage grafting conclusion prior to rapport of introduced variables of poignant tethers of necessary succor for a desiccated bastion of hidden unspoken reach fizzling into trangams of obsolescence because of perennial inebriations that thwart strong character to scandalize a pinhoked vessel of conscientious objection to the radiology of centerpiece hapless forlorn arid squelches of the vibrant verdure of macrobian dumose shelter for reformatories that invent incidentally accidents otherwise precluded by the ommateum of wasted foresight guzzled on the premium of disaster for a showcase of verve going awry steamy with livid filagersion aimed with a reluctant enmity against the cagey headwinds of recalcitrance inveterate to the scruples of the otherwise unscrupulous who foist lewd licentious philandered paragons of philogeant mysticism to forefront cowcatchers that eliminate kumbaya rijuice of gridlock impressionism guarded by the sentinels of rambunctious destructive attempts to evict intellectual propriety from careens of subtlety barnstorming with polyacoustic nuances of differential gradients of vapid bastions of strident but backwards versamily froward and bountiful of Head Hunter specters rather than heaved recombinations of orthotropism wed with mangers of savory dilettantism of the lionized array of brooks branching into rivulets and the fluminous barnstorm of pelagic awareness interrupted by the finicky prevarications of piggybacked fair-weather allies who secretly fund the slander for the mainour of dirt fundamental to meteoric rises acclimated to dissipated moral vacuums of disbelief of evidentiary miracles among the jostle of scientific regency that slakes opprobrium to illiteracy while benefiting greatly from my perceived barathrum that is rather a crowning ravenous achievement of appetite above substance and distinction varied from prediction that my Titanic zalkengur spared from the unnecessary sacrilege of less accommodating curglaff to the metaphorical hypothermia of albatross in dramaturgy rather than a pause glowering with mastery against my jarred enemies preying on weakened reach due to preeminent dirges of inkburch and swallock to ravage my sanctity with a hyped stage without a starlet daydream fantasia spectacle that is calculated to upstage even in the coverthrow of intelligentsia against the plodding boweries of pestilential raving resentment absconding with elusive enmity rather than cherishing a true trident champion of the seized seas and the traindeque of emulated intellectual accordions of claptrap chockablock pedigree that outlast gallywow afflictions of rapacious venality tenacious to the detritus of constructive detriment building the ashes of effigy before I am dead and buried with the storge of perennial legacy rather than scandalous privation of the obolary tenets of desecration above reabsorption of mendicant bodges of the bodewash of freedom’s counterstrokes of maskirovka ineradicable and plenipotentiary wit deniable but legacy ineffable by degrees of exponential long-winded flambeaus of filagersion swiveling with recessive rubble in a crenellated fortress guarded with tripwire insubordination against cordslave dependencies liable to recurrent reproach rather than sustainable filigrees of electrified balkanization toxic to the aquifers of modernity streamlining Roman imperium. To this flajoust I owe eternal behest as the captaincy of time is not a perishable whangam of superstition an affront to a provident rejoinder of verifiable prestige because the curvature of time favors the ripple effect of magnetized reninjuble charms alerted to upward soaring skies of inevitable peerless dominion in the  perceived symphily of competing benevolence with a shared stake in Earthly pulchritude emanating a sworn allegiance to the best interests of philosophical enlightenment

10mgs,
20mgs.
One,two,three.. day after day.
All just to keep this artificial smile on display.
Days drag out and the little stars that twinkled in our eyes now replaced by black holes.
Our soulless bodies sinking like broken bottles in the ocean.
The happy memories that haunted our minds nearly gone, the goosebumps we got when we remembered our first kiss are no more. Bodies numb.
This feeling,this curse; inevitable.
Every child born after condemned to a lifetime of synthetic happiness.
In capsules of sea foam green,and custard yellow. To be taken like our favorite candy.
The amount being consumed will become ungodly leaving hollowed shells and the walls to talk to.
Only the last glimmer of light in your pretty little head can save you.
Every memory.
Every emotion colliding like a kaleidescope of color.
The thoughts of him,thoughts of her.
The voices...
Another simulation complete.

I
I am in
sin
in absence
in simile
in a simulacrum
of simulation

In simulation
lies my sin
my string of simulations
of conversations
relations
with a simile
another simulacrum
of him

Awaken, pyre
From my soul
Cease your sleep
Set my spirit ablaze

Poetess inside
You’ve reaped my emotions
Stolen my Muse
Return! Return my heart!
I will not endure once more
Your years of poetic midnight!

Lost in the darkness you left for me
Encircled my false shame
While you slept
Did you have a nice nap,
O, Princess Inspiration?

How could you dare
Leave my spirit
In such dank cellars of misery
Living on phony clones of yours?
Shame, shame
For deserting all that was once ours
Together

Awaken, pyre!
Accept that I have
Woken from your poetic sleep
Only to see with eyes filled with fury
You had left me with
Only horrid simulations of yourself!

Awaken, pyre!
Dormancy of your spark,
No longer!

I was fooled-
Betrayed by your tricks
Of utter betrayal

I must hold you as my own
Once again I will embrace whatever
Design I find within you

Oh
Evil
Inspiration

Awaken!

There were happy times while at Home, where the sun
Licked the rims of our glasses and sent wayward strands of light
Streaking across an almost-empty tabletop,
Save for a slight shifting of sand in the only hourglass
I would ever need to own.

There were sad times too, don't forget
Like whenever the storms intruded on our mid-afternoon slumbers
And sent our dreams flying in a saturated mess of
Unfinished riverboat cruises and superhero simulations;
Underneath it all, though, it became impossible not to try it again.

We're going to return here someday, paying close attention to
A world that had preserved itself for the sake of preservation
A life that had spent its last weekends alone on the edge of the sea
Where everything within it collected and became a mosaic of
Saturated dreams and hourglasses cut in two -
Sand mixing with sand.

the pictures from the ISS
make it very clear
to everybody with a TV screen
    or a computer

our earth is a globe
    and blue
        and finite
            and in a delicate balance

determined by more factors than even
our most sophisticated computer simulations
can so far figure out

it makes you wonder
why
of all people
those who surely own more than one TV screen
    and a couple of notebooks & cetera
are the ones who deny
that they are
   destroying our rain forests
   polluting our rivers and seas
   poisoning our environment
   ruining our lives
   deadening our minds

maybe
    if they dare to set forth
    even a step or two
    from their isolated gated  habitats
    and walk in the real world
    they have created
they are able to begin
to understand

BLAST   —   direct focus on a terrorist virus
that swims in breath and touch,
in globules of spittle and ssnot see,
waiting to plant roadside RNA bombs
in nostrils—from flesh to newsflash fantasies

with

a Fear-O-Meter Lockdown grip
of Crisis Management Economics:
Gaslit Fiat economy crash test dummies
tested within psychosocioschizological
experiments of the psychobacteriological

transfer of power, control, and wealth—

stats data for thinktanks and simulations:
which strategies are best to get the peasants  
to willingly offer up their lives for an illusion
of safety and protection, what causes people
to remain compliant or to become renegades.

Capitalism, the revolutionary meant to usurp
Queens and Kings, corrupted into a negative
Technocratic Corporatocracy: a Royal Trash
death cult that feeds on its young, sacrifices
its youth to scams, wars, and stolen futures:

a Technocrat Herr Doktor drug pusher
that plies the skin of trial control groups
for the venom of Warpspeed fangs—wraps
its coil around a bundle of willow switches
supple with youth, its victims kept alive

as a fuel source to burn in the corporate engine, and kept weak enough to require another fix "For the betterment of the whole."

(Gaslighting fills mandated shower-coops:
"Trust us, you're sick, and it's your fault.")

Pollute people into isolation against an enemy that has never been truthfully isolated and purified—
an Orwellian leap of faith that breaks:
a crusher of foundational laws,
a crusher of critical thought and bones.

"Destroy (transform) your dreams, milestones, and livelihoods for your safety and protection. We are doing this for you. We care about you. These numbers, these awful numbers are your fault! You're to blame! It's all your fault!"

"Make sure to vote for me come next election."

As much as North America is a globalist,
the New World is also its own experiment.
Fortress North America: the Eugenicist Manager founded upon colonialism and slavery that outsources its crisis economics—
highly contagious, bit with its own snake oil,
an experiment observed to show symptoms
of AIDS, North America attacking itself
in many ways, symptoms of having been
grazed and groomed for decades

in contagion-based sociopolitical templates
that result in acquired bipolar autoimmune
disease: past enemies and geists attained
boosted immunity to defend, adapt—learned
to deflect Sun Tzu's Art of War into itself

with its own momentum. "Unrestricted
Psychological Warfare": a process of confusion and doubt that leads to the demoralization and dehumanization of the target enemy via the subversive tactics of propaganda plowing, cultural memetic warfare, the infection of economy, politics, military, scientific and educational institutions and systems—
cybertech and media espionage and warfare,
all of it leading to symptoms of extreme

polarization and social moral tribalism—
a decades-long psychological, physical
and spiritual draining of the enemy
into a weakened, toxic state, barely worthwhile to conquer fully. The enemy does the rest,

finishes itself off with:

Acquired (Red Auto)ImmunoDefiency Syndrome

Red CONtroll COVID-19 debt slavery—
pandemic crisis, CoVfefe crisis, energy crisis,
population crisis, climate crisis, racism crisis,
market crisis, war crisis, terrorism crisis,
ISIS is is cry sis in crisis and crisis
in crisis debt slavery to the State: Toadies

for the "New Normal" Big Pharma-Big Tech
mechanical heart engine that thrums
with a beat that Zooms in on, Zooms out from
false-positive test results amplified

and distorted into AIDS:

Amplified Information Distortion Syndrome

and

an Acquired ImmunoDeficiency Syndrome
in conjunction with a near-infinite number
of variables and determining factors—
an Auto-ImmunoDeficiency Syndrome of
body, mind, soul, and political systems
cruising along an acquired, contagious loop
of a negative-sense RNA socialist Autobahn—

highly contagious, highly experimental in
unprecedented moments of crisis and mirrors: reflections of reflections of reflections
amplified and bent
in sleight-of-hand misdirection and deflection with the virus holding a mirror's face outwards

while

an mRNA 'treatment' infects human cells
to conquer and command them to become
bomb making factories that create
SARS-CoV-2 S-proteins—yes, yes, "inactively" teach T-cells with double-think McCure-all bandAIDS to 'help' identify SARS-CoV-2 RNA. Understood. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction

(for the Terrorist within)

"Here's a fast-tracked vaccine that supposedly boosts the immune system that you're being commanded to weaken."

GMO sleeper cells and non-celled sequences
that can attain causality and symbiosis with
drug and antibiotic resistant organisms,
are sold as the cure that ills

and

misdiagnosed and misunderstood symptoms
of anything and everything
in-between that we've known and seen
are blamed on a laboratory Chimera:

the scapegoat terrorist virus designed
to be highly contagious and gentle to its host
for vaccine programs: Mary's Monster attaining the flame of life within
its Promethean host.

Who made who?

Who knew that the FDA NIH CDC
WHO-Fang North American China Flu Clan

flew the fear and media spread. "Wait for our
next update." Live TV, live virus

with billions of shortsighted treatments
adding ripples to an overflowing soup bowl
of trillions x trillions of RNA particulates,

inactive/active — off/on — negative/positive

Switch:

Spin PCR in the Petri dish:
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish!
What a lot of fish there are!

This one has a little yellow star.....

("Mission Accomplished")

mutant mannequins

stare from the shop window

visions of Venus de Milo

awaiting the hour to come alive

indecipherable simulations

anonymous

yet they have about them

a lacerating urgency

an elliptical and oblique

consciousness

that emits the light

of relative thought

establishing a symbiosis

of non gender

that stimulates the color of dreams

in unleashed silent appraisal

Seasons of idolism, eyes down
Tidal motion of extinctions
In and out, in and out,
Faster, faster

Borne from asymmetry
The present moves
Now towards the median
Aggregation of experience

When can I grow into
The shell of what was

Collecting rain drops
In a glass outside my window

up late
sat upright
i contemplate

is it too late?
how much of a state is my mind state?

i feel stuck in time
am i stagnant or am i fluid?

i wanna leap off the bed or the earth
what is the symbolic meaning of a birth?
is there even such a thing?
if so, what is the symbolic meaning of death?

we all die
is that the symbol?
is it a parable?
who knows
your guess is as good as anyone elses

we pretend all day long
of our competencies
truth is, such endeavours
limit our ability to see
how the world is in raw form
we build our lives and wishes
within a simulation

we all subscribe to the simulation
in our own way

only till we own the simulations of our mind
can we really see
the ethereal and rich nature of reality
reality is not fixed
it cannot be named like a person
it is bigger than me or you
or any organism that inhabits it
let's have some humility
for Christ's sake

milbrightlions of December —
you come announced in multiplicity.
even the night-herald blooms through
the beams of astounded simulations.

buoyantly uttering a word
of light, stilling itself in the sky,
unasked for.

surmounting the Narra and the mangrove,
sieged to a halt in its exactitude
like the uncomplicated machination
of what makes fire simmer in a wick.

all of its brazenness hearten
in easily toppled altitudes — even our
battlements scar our unexplained
liminality we grieve at first glance.

airless are the spaces we lean on,
testing their capacities. shrills bloom
clearer. our mouths plump and glazed.
our flesh hurtle all incarnadine, all true
unlike the twining of roads lit like
faces in the marketplace —
       a dynasty of brokenness.

Ceaseless ****** of the future,
Weaver of possibility,
Engine of chance and
“What would it be like?”
That endured the infinite
Hallucinations
Simulations
and recitations
Of its own creation
Never knowing why -
Just falling endlessly
And into place -
Who said:
I’d like to be on high ground
When the end comes
Not for safety but
to watch a while
whilst it tears apart
And then finally
unravels when my eyes close,
The thing of things
That orchestrated the
Mutiny of the heart
In those senseless
Undergrounds
Stairwells
Attics of sanity,
The cracks in the hologram,
As all of life were truly hollow

Blessings bestow on your faved Ruby Drink
And toast to another New Year's Best Sight
You're Growing, my Man; Smiles pour to the Brink
For you to Sip to Earth's Flavoured Delight
Sweets be Candies crushed; Simulations Free
Equal your Gaming Aspect in response
Bequeath your own Growing Theme by decree
Model your Bro's Working Model enhance
Yet Best to your Shape be such Good Advise
For now His Sterling Hand made you Unique
Bearing Fruits of Friends your own Charm will Spice
And cause the Jester flip his Cards oblique.
Enjoy your Day now. That Promise you earned
Dad's Smile on your Face; His Best Morals learned.

[HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BENJAMIN!]

By Arcassin Burnham


Every aspect of what reality doesn't have to end up in flames,
Lying to ourselves about what we really want in life and what it could gain,
You might ace the test , you might new car, but what do you think is real,
Simulations been proven in time , over and over , as long we know we'll be fine,
Let go of the past mistakes,
Let go of earth as it breaks,
In the mind,
The shell will crumble from behind,
The skull where it is too divine,
Guess it's where I'm headed,
If it's a good direction,
Can't ruin my sessions,
If I sleep better maybe it'll blossom,
Talking about the pineal,
The flames still burn without any
Tutorial.

Shifting sleep, the seconds creep
Creep
Creep
Silently they pass by me
Treadmill thoughts, going nowhere but still moving
Thought, the most common form of illusion
What I could be doing, the time that I've been losing
Time, another fine example of confusion
What sorcery could order me to disengage now
Tranquilize the heavy eyes and guide the body back down
High strung bow, pull another arrow from the quiver
Draw it to the shoulder shoot it straight into the river
Useless
Fruitless
Pressure on the cracks
Rearview glances, but there's  no tires on the tracks
My palms are too small for the things I try to grasp. I relinquish temporarily the need to draw a map
Futile simulations of my eyelids shutting
I conceive of bigger dreams while my eyelashes are jumping

Poems half written half read
fill my cupboards and fall off chairs
as an old incompleteness
stacks high around me
on this fine evening.

I have been dabbling in the art
of losing
and regaining my sanity,
exploding into
a thousand broken puzzle pieces as
I walk
into the night,
each time with the hope
of something falling back together
into something else.
Something better.
Better than
this.

A loneliness so petrifying
so absolute and whole
encompasses every breath
I have ever taken,
and all my regrets and dreams
have become
calm in its wake.

The universes on their daily commute
pass me by
on the street
and I watch them
longingly
as they fold into themselves,
infinite, unreachable fractals
suffocating me on
the evening train,

changing

changing

folding

changing.

It has been
a strange journey indeed.

By Arcassin Burnham


...i could..
i could love you...
i could love you better..

Places you would've loved to go , even the avenues,
Remembered all that you are and what you do,
Heartaches in life,love i had a few,
almost went crazy over you,
to me you're Something new..

i could love you better than he ever has in his life,

sacrificing everything for you baby,you could be my wife,

In this life its give and take,
Gonna have to get your way,
i just want my way to be in your direction
just to see your pretty face,
you're a drug,you're not a phase,
you're the only one that meets all my attractions,
you,
love,
to,
the,
best of your abilities when you've been sighted,
In this thing that we call life,
Wanna be that man in your life,,
you're the only one that i have ever like...


i'll do my best to do right by you,
your the guiding force in my virtues,
simulations make me more into you,
doing things we wouldn't do,
free as a bar stool,

i could love you better than he ever has in his life,

sacrificing everything for you baby,you could be my wife...

In this life its give and take,
Gonna have to get your way,
i just want my way to be in your direction
just to see your pretty face,
you're a drug,you're not a phase,
you're the only one that meets all my attractions,
you,
love,
to,
the,
best of your abilities when you've been sighted,
In this thing that we call life,
Wanna be that man in your life,,
you're the only one that i have ever like.

In the chaos
with fragments flying
damaging crafts and souls
yet a tether remained..
Those past simulations
crashes experienced with
foreboding repetitions
for this mission..

On another plane
driving and driving
dulled unbearable pain..
Here the gravity
in this black hole
a command urgent
to simply let go..

Vicarious feelings of
a family's love
a dog's barking..
Then resignation
outcome dis-regard..
Advice from a dream
located the oneness
launch and landing
a knowing grace of
ends and beginnings..

And I’ll sweep it all under the rug

And I’ll lie awake, not at night.

And I’ll twist all your words you gave me

So they don’t come out as lies.

And I’ll justify the actions.

Your threats. Your patterns. Your hands.

Around my throat while I’m sobbing

And caving into every demand.

And I’ll lie awake at night.

I’ll lie, lie and lie.

On my back sometimes.

And sometimes to my own mind.

And I’ll answer all the questions

With no emotion behind the words

Building a wall barricaded to prevent

A glimpse of all this hurt..

I’ll lie awake in the morning

And during the day and evening

Long into the night

Until I numb the feeling.

Until it’s all disguised.

Until you can’t tell a smile from a frown

Until my fingers stay steady

And nobody can see how

How my heart is broken

How I dont feel like I could.

How my visions are simulations

And my reality is blurred.

How my mind goes to a place at night

At the times I get to myself

And I’m left to feel my feelings

But they never actually get felt.

Excuses for the hate

Reasons for the lies

Justification for the gut feeling

When there’s nowhere left to hide.

Last night
I watched a guy
Play a Perfect Dark Mod
With Golden Eye levels

He created simulations
To play against
In a free for all

Today I watched
A Halo 3 AI battle
Spartans vs Elites

One absurd event
Leads to another

I workout
But I don't get
Big muscles

I came into
My fleshlight yesterday

Human life is sad
Stupid

Oh there is the paper there
Health care costs
To rise in 2017

Everything costs
And i have no money

Who cares?

Why do we need
Two expensive BMWs?

I don't know

Money is power
And I'm paid
By the hour

The expression
On my face
Appears quite dour