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POSSIBLE Sep 2018
Ash to mouth

divide north and south
east and west,

shout  with class of Scout
let it out with griffin clout

we here we out , hear me out
— rhymes in time without

silent shrines to mime
cleared the crowd

covered eyes and mouth
over body desert shroud

if vengeance is your business
then from swords to plow

en lakesh

an eye for an eye binds
the all to be blind
but you can’t unsee the signs

no thoughts unclouded by loss
out the window I toss
mosaic fragments that cost
health and awesome sauce

Nazareth gutted commandments
by anarchy spelled
disaster after culture
massive ego it swell

up the road ahead a pit depress the juncture
so we spit the dirt divide just to touch the other
from pup to wolf so many bites, a pitted puncture
so much disfunct the fight till all be winded lungs sir

you can run
but  from
gamma ray
you no hide
passed a black hole
wand inside
a body died
but it’s alright
(it’s heaven sight
till Zombie night )

animate dead necromantic black ring
the rhythm of life and death a chronic swing

the pendulum blade cross over cosmic skin
consciousness draw out from within

traced the win which wound round tat to skeleton
a dusty tome bound and crafted man

medicine subtracted by the head that spin
in the sky and its happening, blessen-ings
the miracle is mystery u cant guess it

talking 3 eye see
talking vip
climb high as canopy
walking so
my shadow lands under me.

ten toes touch to the dusty roads
when toads appear throats close

mighta had the Midas touch
still the golden one
was too much to flush

you might live in Laos
you my livid crowd
you might live it now
neva hit my limit how
cause you live in now

when you wake up proud
timid mind plowed
divid-dine fill the cloud
insta crowd wowed
this I vowed
life isn’t life until it’s loved
that is the answer
but so few live it.
Life calls to us to take it and ride as if its our mount,
but there are no more equestrians.

Break the stallion
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
oral transmission
Modulate - Cognate- Division
Cosmic - tuned in like Cognitive Transmission

This is my mission, to

Get up out the scene Live wild as a child
Dread my head, Hear cries like the Roar  I lionize
Deviant be me, othered for free
as the Nomos creates Signifier, Signified
somewhat like a homeless child stigmatized
caught outside our commercial enterprise

but

With enterprise, there enters lies,
Never earthbound my star ship seems to Actualize
Melodically.

So let me lyrically **** your path so you can shift past the cuts
Neva drinking the wine of wrath, made sour by sour patch cats blasted by vats OF GRAFFITI splats.

Culture slipping like gangsters simply sipping at the purple incision
instead we walk Holy like the cotton we missin

Tattoo my Secrets onto skin parchment ,
thats Ink advice ---:  People Lost in Duality, man thats just thinkin twice
Surrender and self-Sacrifice be the admission price
to see Kali singing blood mantras dancing through

Dreams of Ink darshan doorways
Tantric like Siva Approaches his consort for foreplay

My face is like a thundercloud, smiles formed outta cloud highs
Now my 3rd eye, washed in blood saw how Snakes stitch DNA
up and winding
and lemme tell you bro,
its some Nauesous stuff

Transcendent reality,
ego death till its fallacy,
recognize perfection
of life in the galaxy

So I toss out my ID, puff puff, its high ME
don't be Stuck like Ego grinding, Just saving souls don’t mind we,
go Indigo like Love in the margins, Golden souls attempting to live in holy gardens, ==========

We forget though

Neither death or immortality existed in the time before time,  of day or night no sign

There was Darkness hidden by Darkness , all was water but got started quick, by the sharpness of a god spark

kick crash hit, life spit out covered in emptiness

This was it, started from the bottom, rise in the power of heat,
dance tap ta dis beat Aware tapas generates so much heat Indiscreet
in abyss

But then desire became the fire, middle ground never higher than the smoke trails of the world's creation,
Spittin om proir flash forward funeral flames tamed by Tandava siva purifier

So this poet seeks in the heart of wisdom found in the bond of existence to non-existence
Knowledge that  I’m a livewire with a high resistance
I Complete my **** Through high persistence,

Eventually though,
the Fog rolls in again , agnosia forget the Cosmic condition
till then We soulfeed lyrics in-between kissing.
POSSIBLE Feb 2019
Welcome home.

this show
is like compassion .

I’m
the high king
of hiking ...........

flows indigo
like companion

understanding
this is everlasting
even so I seem to be crashin'

I’m out the hell hole but listen
I still hear the bell toll
**** sings wisdom


̥̫̩̩͓̘ͫ̒̒̊͡Aͦ̄̕P̸̰̅ͣ̎͛P̰̪̆ͨ͝L̠̖̭̣͋ͩͦ̌ͦ̐̓͟Y͖̻̼̜̻̌̾ͣ͛ ̨̭̔̐ͤ̊Ǎ͇̻̹͓̪͇̠͛̐̑ͫ͜L̥̹̯͇̇ͤͨ̑Ẇ͊̊A̘̟̔̀Ỹ̩ͧ̏͐ͧȘ̞̣:̻̳̞̲̇:̥͇͙͉͉̆

r­itual tool
ritual crew
rippin' through fools nihilism
like that Rick and Mort to


Ȃͣͪͥ̇̀̐ľ̒ͮͬ͑ͦ̌l̏̎͋̄̃̓ ̈̔͒ͧ̾t͗̊͌́͒h̓̅̔ͮ͌i͂̾͌s͊͆̾͒̅ ̆́̏͗s̔̋͐ͬ̄ͣhỉ̍̈́tͬͧ̓̀ͥ ̾͆̿̈m̀́̊͐ͩ̒e͛aͧ͋ͦͮͪͨń̂ͤͥͪ͂́s̉̄̐̏̃ͤ̚ ͧ̋͐̈̔̏͋sͧͫomͦ̄͌̃ͯeͯ̾̈́͂th̑ͧing͑.̔͐͑̚

Society structures rigid rules
based in ethical clues

.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚But.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚the.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚waters.­̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚still.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚crash.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚upon it..̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̚­̔͐͑.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̚­̔͐͑.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̚­̔͐͑.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̔͐͑̚.̚

Careful

through these two teeth, 2 hands, 1 pen;

reality peaks through as the morning does through the dew.

With the pouring of this cup the sacred drain true

you can question everything
but still the g̵̖̞͇͓͕̔͗̈́̽̌̈́o͓̬͉͕̟͐ͯͩ̃͢d̳͈̰̣͔̉̍ͦͦͥ͒ḥ͙͈̤̙̔̀̓͂ͮͧ̾ë͚̜̯͚́ͬͭ̇͒͗́åͦͤ­̖̜͇̊ḏ̌ͮͣͥ̓͒ͨ́ speaks you.
Easteregg?

Scriabin, born in Russia in 1872, was a gifted pianist whom at a young age was drawn to philosophical and spiritual avenues. Early on he was considered a “mystic”— a man with the desire to find harmonic correspondence with the ethereal worlds. In the years that led up to the social, cultural, and political explosion that was the Russian Revolution of 1917, the brilliance of Scriabin pushed the rich Russian musical tradition forward. Held by the pillars of Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky, he began his exploration in his ambitious first symphony by writing every single note based on the sensation of color, light and ‘time’ that was found in the blood and bones of our common human anatomy. He believed in the completion of Mystic Conquest of the 20th century the human enzyme; that the body itself was a complete harmonic system that responded to specific tones and specific colors in a very organized and intelligent way.
Bibliography:

https://hekint.org/2017/01/30/alexander-scriabin-incarnations-of-mysticism-and-philosophies/
POSSIBLE Feb 2019
Sorry to...
Hit yo noes
like a brick of green
Like the grass that grow
nourished by the Celtic saints that know

Man tell a lie better make it true
if you don’t, then what do I make of you?

Now Wonder Woman
no wonder were human
bringing Brooklyn
some thunder hoodlum

My baited brown eyes look up and down you

Mile marker .66
and I’m still hitting this
crisp as a chrysalis
you may be the eyewitness
of my fist to this

more like the wittiness
of my pen tip dipped in ambergris
I get around you get the gist
healing hands I mend the cyst
with broken hands I gripped the rich

don't understand
don't worry
like Krishna I persist

zzzz Slept on like
The buzz of viciousness
**** the violence
turn the red to VIOLET
just look right through my eyes slit

Now and then
divine feminine deigned
to grace my face again
turned fake eyes to grin
false pride, double subs, and sin.

Complete appreciation, genuflected form reflected in

this fertile goddeSS
who puts the seeds in season
She see through SnakeS and reedS when
She based in wiSdom
reaSon

designed to take the basest race
from darkest depths to airs of divine space
till we’re flushed with grace
some are hushed by my ace in the whole

I'm a S33ker throwing axes
but YOU better only call me

an axehole

when
I
mis
s
.

***** simple as this.
I͕̩̞’̘̞̯m ̩͙̫͚̳̼͚s͇̞̞̯͕̳e͚ṱ̖̼̯̯̟͔t̘̞̹ͅi̼̠̺͇̪n̗̝̫g ͍̞th͈i̮s̮̟͕̫̫ ba̠̠̮̤r̠̙̼
͉̲I͖̱̫͈͖͈͖’͈̯̘̞̘m̞̠̠̯ͅ ͔̯̬̳̮s͚̘̝͎̮̣̩t̩̩̬̖e͉̖p̜̻p͕̼͎̗̣i̝̗̙̘n̰̫g ṱ̪̺͎͖̬̳h̰̝̘is̲͇̺ ̫f͍͉̠̹̣̯ͅa̟͉͓͖̦̗̩r͇̫̬͎̥
̹͉̱̫̟̩T͕̼̯̣̼͉r͍̘̘͎̝̤̟o̜͔̣̭͎͇n a̭͈̘̜̻ͅn̬̩̱̭̞̜͉d̺ ̠̖̯̠th̺̜e̦̯̫̙̤̠͉ ̫̟͉̗̠̤̦m͔̳a͔̝͉t̯̜ri̥͉x̦
̝̦̳͙̯b̭̤e ̯̰̖̤̯s͚̩̺̩ha͚͇̼͍͇p̭̜͖in ͕t̙̤h̟̳̣̯̬is ̠̼̹ͅc͓̼̝̣a̯̭r͓͔̙̮̠͎̠
͇̞̻̖̬
̱̟ș̝̞̫ome̯̜͎̙̤̜ͅ ͔͓͔̝͚̬s̗͍̹̟͖̼u̦b̙̜͚ͅs͖̯ ͈̦̣ ḅ̼̬̬̯ͅu̞̬̩̻͙̝m̜̭͔p͙̟̩̼̼̳ ̳̘͔͕͖͖͓s̜̺͕o̜me̖̱͓̺ ͈̣
̣͔͔̖̖b͈͖͖͈a̫̰͔̤̜̹r̤̭ͅs̻͉̼ ̗̯̪s̤͓̟o͈͕̞̞̜̯̭ ͖͙̮h̻a͙̞͇̟ṟḍ͕̻ ̖̯̘̝͕͙weͅ ̻ri̹̖̞̣͙̬s̻k̹͇̼̬ ͎̬̤̪̳̹̟mars̜͇̩͇
̹͕̖
V̺̙̞e̲͓̤͍i̹ṇ̥̰̮͍̜̟s̼ ͕s̘͍̮t̫͍͚͕͎a̙̹rṭ͖̭͕̟͙ ̺͕͎͎̖ͅp̼̮͔̭o̲̻p̙̞͕̯̫p̹͉̮͇̼̗ͅi̥̱n͚g͕̱ ̯̣̙̘̗̺̤
̤h̰̤e̺͓͓͕a̻͎rṭ̥͈̗̮̻̣s͖̠̠̤͚̼ ̗͉͓̫̱̫c͍̫̜͎͉ṛ͚̭y̘̰ ͉̗̙̻̩h̙̱͈a͔̮̟̥̞͕r͙̣̠͎d̟̬̰̫ ̰̻̭̖̻̜̬i̻n ̟͎̳̹͉ͅt͕̠̟̖̘̹h̻͓̗͉̭͖̦e̱̞͖͓̰̪ ̩ra̗͉̜̞̻ͅͅi͉͕̱̹̠n̩
̝͎̙m̜͔̱̮̻͔̜u͉̜r̮d̟̫̞̗̹e̺̭̟r̞̘̭̤ ̘an̞͔̬̫̥ͅd̺ ͙̭͔̖̤͎b̠ḷ͔̜̭̩̫͕o͕͙̬̦̝͇o͕̺̝͚̖̙ͅḓ̻̯̤̫̪̦
͇͓͚̪it̘͉̬̞’͇̞͖̺͓̲̱s̱͕̼̣ ͖̰̺̮̼̠̣n̥̝̥̼͉̙o͍͚̥͈̫t͍̜̰̞ ̼̻̗̮ha͖̭̺͙̟͖̭r̰̬͖̙̣̬̭d̲ ̻̝͙͙͔̤̘t͙͔͍̟̫͉̗o̬͓̟͙̘ ͖͈̥̬̠͎ͅe͙̮̱͓͉n̼̫̜͉̘t̪̠̹̼̲̝e̝̱̖͙͎rț̠͕̰ͅa̲͇i̥̜ṇ̙ͅ
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
For you sweetheart I would....

...writhe in the ecstasy of the tragic
or behave violently,
enmeshed in ******,
heroic havoc

I would stalk the thing that hurt you and stab-it.
or quickly tie it up and drag it,
as I whisper as a crazed maverick ; click, click, son!
and swallow back the drip, drip, umm....
of the vial of acid...….as I sip, sip, yum-
Facing the truth of the mirror I find myself presently hung

For you sweetheart....!
I would sacrifice the self
relegate my identity to the bottom shelf

I would Focus on  opposites...
and pervert the lost truth of buddhists; preaching and installing the sinful cysts...

of consumerism & material wealth, I hope you get the gist.
I would Climb to the monastery & maliciously yell
“Come on you drunk monk Its for your helllth!”

Doing what you always wanted
by changing the state of truth
from overwhelming presence
...to an unseen, veiled stealth

for you I would jump out of the highest helicopter sans parachute
!ha! writing and dying, but for you,  its such a hoot

For you Sweet love,
I would divide by zero,
March up to physics and blackholes say “hey F-yourself” unceremoniously killing the hero
remembering so vividly
how we intoxicatedly emptied oil on the baby-seals relaxing on the soil of the now empty sea shelf

but for you oh dear, I would empty myself of fear
and empathize with a jellyfish
GAH!  
I hate Jellyfish.

Please Imagine sweet- love,
how we would get married,
and go through all the steps to have a sweet- baby
and in the birthing room while you’re extra weary,
I would ask the simple question to hold and carry
this special
special
little baby

I would look you in the eyes, smile widely and drop it
While you pleaded, choked eyes pleading for some God to stop it

But thats a little extreme so lets take time and rewind the scene
So that you wouldn’t think of little ol’ loving ego me as being so especially mean

Then, amidst candles start smoothly & sweeten the deal with cannibalistic clipart
Preparing to Dine on the sweet meal of a sweetheart’s sweet heart.

For you I would
I would **** a man and smoke salvia at his funeral
Then desperately plead my case,  
so surreal while I Appeal deliriously and unable
to the divine
or the courtroom of an esoteric, alien race

Oh love.
I would bury myself in venomous spiders
submit myself to mysterious haitian-zombie rituals
To keep you pure and far from pitiful
I would Self-immolate to distance you from pain and the sinful

Then
I would put the world to sleep
so that they won’t stir, wake,
or open their eyes to peep
the pain of the sun,
burning the Sea-t
of their corneas
with its brilliant and all-encompassing,
luminous heat



Oh for you bella, I would put down three 1/5ths of law and turn the key
Oh beautiful, now the mothers against drunk driving are sooo MADD at me
Because for YOU
I Crashed into their headquarters traveling erratically and so haphazardly

For you I would do everything
not just anything
but
everything.

I would chill with monks that do all the ****** up things
Go to a girls house, burn the family, burn the home
have ******* with the survivor hopefully alone
and afterwards take a long time to gnaw viciously through my bones.

for you I would discuss that maybe this voice Isn’t fit for the world
So i just wink out of existence
to protect everything from my impact, characterized as it is, so spun and twirled

For you sweetheart, I would even let this poem go unwritten.
Just so the world would not be smitten
With the space between the righteous and the wrong
the difference, is what we feel,
For you truth I write this song.

Ostensibly and indefinitely, I would infinitely
remember thee
and it all planning to never do it again.
...because my Circuitry is charged with the pain to amend me.

For your own amusement
I would help possibility incarnate
fulfill itself A-moral and without hate
the good the bad and the ugly because …..remember
When it comes to poetic possibility  
The U-and-I-verse doesn’t discriminate

I would free the slaves from freedom
I would emulate pagans and heathens
I’ll be all you don’t need when you seek to amend the world of men

For you sweetheart I would publish this as a children’s night time book
3.2k · Oct 2021
(-)en-erg-es(Z)
POSSIBLE Oct 2021
I'm Outstanding in a field
While out standing in a field

....with these teachers
C̵͍̞̓̄r̸̛͖̣͙̋̀ë̵̝͔́ä̶͎͕͉̈́t̶̢̠̍ͅǔ̵̹̠̖̊͠r̴̜̙̗̊̀e̷̡̢̜̕s̵̒­͖͚̿ and prophets

You'd think its an easy hike,
but its more seagoing

I see, means my ego pre-going:

Just Color coding as another motif to talk with
No Shovel loading this buffer coating some mock spit

Of Sirrus winds and summer loving...
Was it other living or utter loathing?

No component, Native I'm Buffaloing
Icarus took the fire and I took the flowin


We've got the water  ̶̧̧̼̖͙͔̹̻͕͖̠̤̓͊̆͋̐̓͂̄̊̚̕͠r̵͍͔̮͒̿̎́̊̈́͝ ũ̸͖͇̟̯̅̌̈́̕͠ n̵̲̤̙̜̑̑̽͑ n̵̡̺̪͎̯̫͐́̉͜͜ ì̷̺͍̹́̓̈́ ṉ̸̣̪͓̗̤́̈̊̈́̀ g̵͓̲̺̙̘̤̞̦̺̥̓͋̈̇͌̈́̃́͂̍͝
Is it fear or love?

Got the mother-loving
is it dear or turtle-dove?

Talking in terms of
inhaling foxglove

Stuck in the mud asking:

What's the size of....
What are we in the Light of?

Still:
Growing like a d̶̰̊̿̈́̓̿̿̑̈́͆̈̅̕a̵̻̤̒̅͛̿̀̎͘i̷͎̜̰̯͆̏̚s̵̡̢̼̺̬̬̖͚̦͍̠͑̀̀̃̀͌́͛̈́̌͝ȳ̴̑͋͘­̞͖͓̝̥̭̥̖̔̎̀͗ ̸̢̪͍̠͕̩̥̒̍̓͋̈̐͊̂̎̓͝ ̵̡͇̳̦̦̥̰̝̐͐͌̐̓͐̈̏̀͘̕ ̶̡̨̟̼̺̺̝͇̍̀̓̓̏͌́͗̓̂͆͠

Growing like my Day Be
more than Dimebag lately


Growling like I'm Day Z̶̯̲̹̠̙̊̏́͗̿̎̅͗͐̿̃


Standing tall // Just Massing Nation
Is it all in my Imagination?

Fountain passion Claim free
Mountain Fashioned hazily

Passion Painting with Green Sea
Ripples passing freely through the sword

I be puffin on a horn like G̶̹͎̓̄̃͛͂͐͐a̵̻͕͔̯̹̿̕͝b̶̧̛͔̙͙̰̭̯̥̩̉̅̅̿̂̃r̴̝̞͎͂͗̈ĭ̴̘̈́̄̽̃͂̑́̈́͘͠ẽ̷̑­̧̞̹̮̌͛̂́̀͝ḷ̶̢̡̭̫͉̬͇̀͜ ̸͚̳̘̜̫̱͖͂̇̓̈́̂̽͂̀̒
(Pfu du duu do duuuu)
Tougher than....
~imagining

All the rougher
when we matching wings
Most people here
~just gather things


Always stuffing torn like here we go:


(̷̛̰̼͕̰͊̂͆̿̅̀͝F̴̧̛͎͎̹͕̬͔͉̃͆̄̎͛̈͋͆̓̇͝ͅū̸̪͎̦̻͕̼͉̼͇̤̄̀̏̓̅͗͌ ̸̧͚̝̟͎̺̝̱͉̓͝ḑ̷̧̰̞̪̥͊̈̑̑̔͋͐͜͝͝ų̵̢̮̙͙̭̫̤̤̖̽̄̈́̀͒̅̀̕͜͝͠ ̷̨̨̥̩̘̱̘̓̉̈̈͌̃͊́̾̚͘d̷̺͛͂̏͑̂͛̊͛͘͝u̷̧͉̹̟͎͉̎̓̎̌ú̵̢̪̺̱̥͆̅́̄̈́̈̚͝ ̷̨̝̥̫̣̻͚̍̍͊͛͌̃͌̀̆̃̚͜͠ḑ̵̡̛͚͚̩͓̼̲͇̮͑̃̅͗̿̓͐͝ͅõ̵̢̰͎̹̥̫̺͍̎́͌̓ ̵͚̺̼͇͔̻̫͇̤̆̔͛͐͆̀̚͝ḑ̴̻̪̉̍͌̽̿̚̚̚ͅư̶̛̘͔̹̰̈́͒͑̍͐̎̈̈́̒͜û̶̬̮̙͍̺̬̯̻͌̂̌­͚̺ͅu̴̞̫͓̭̮̽̽͌̊̄̃̔̎̃͘͠͠ŭ̷͎̎̉̆̈́̚͠)̷͖͔͔̤̗̋͛͜


Come and tumble
Hear how can it sing...

All the colors, Smatterings
Can't muck with my energy

Mastered the art of astral projection
Grinding rice with mortar and pestle

Just to Vortex the best view
Motor no next to you

Torn from the best of true

R̶̯̞͕̭͠͝e̴̳̗̍͒ͅä̷͎̬́̀̋̂̕l̴̼͇̗̈́̿̈ỉ̶̙͔̤̓t̵̩͚͎̥͕͓̍̏̌̉ẏ̸̫͌ worn for the rest of you.

Rolling free with no potent fees
Taking liberties with the energies


Got the water      ̶̧̧̼̖͙͔̹̻͕͖̠̤̓͊̆͋̐̓͂̄̊̚̕͠r̵͍͔̮͒̿̎́̊̈́͝R ũ̸͖͇̟̯̅̌̈́̕͠ Un̵̲̤̙̜̑̑̽͑ Nn̵̡̺̪͎̯̫͐́̉͜͜ Nì̷̺͍̹́̓̈́ Nṉ̸̣̪͓̗̤́̈̊̈́̀Gg̵͓̲̺̙̘̤̞̦̺̥̓͋̈̇͌̈́̃́͂̍͝
Is it fear or love?

Got the mother-loving
is it dear or dote?
More like do or don't.

Floating on the shore like: Heeere we go.
Blowing on a horn with Gabriel :






(̴̨̳̙͕̲̤̮͕̖̅͐̄̍͒́̎̋̌̈́̾͑̆͑̊̿̃̓͛̓̒͘͜͝F̴̧̢̹͎̖̼̝͚̤̥̖̓̏̾̔̉͗̈́̕͝­̨̰̭͕̳̖̩̘̜̝̩̟̠̩̝̘̰͎̜̮͖ͅͅ  ȗ̶̡̳͕̘̲̜̳͖͉̍̍͂̈͆̉͗̎̈́͗̓́̑͊̋́͗̿͐̍̏̋̓̓͊̿̚͠­͇̮̟̪̬̜̜̩̥̻̝̭͓̥   ̷̢̹͙̫̜̝̲͖̹̪͓̲̫̟̹͎̖̦̝̳͌̏̐̽̀̉̇̒͗́͑́͑͐̈͌̿͐̍̒̒̌̀̈͑̃̅͋̌͛͂̔́̀̍́̎̅̚̚͘͝ͅͅ­̧̙͎͍͍̱̳̼̗͎̻͖̰̘̻͈̲ḑ̶͇͎͖̝̠̃̎̀̂͂́̀͂̄̐̍̆̈́́̈́̈̏̈́̉̿͒͋̈́̓̾̍̆̍̈͊͂̐̒̀̚͜͝͝͝͝­̧̢͈͍̫̰̝̯͔͉̝͓͚̭͖̻͓̗̬̺̞̖͈̜͍̹̜̺̩͈ û̷͚̻̟̰͈̒̊͒̀̿̾͋̒͌̊̾̇̉́͆̅͒̈́̈̾̓̑͗̃̈́̓̄̀́́̽͗͘̚̕͘͝ ̵̡̢̢̡̢̘͍͉͕̠̮̤̗̻͈̯͙̲̳͎̪̹̗͓͈̟͕͇̃͒̋͒͒̉͊̎̂̽̋͋̈̀͊̅̔̒͐̋́͐̏͑͋͌͛̇͛̓̄̄̍͐ͅd­̸͔͕̞̪̝̖̩͂̂̎̀͐͒̿͘ư̶̡̩͙͇̥͈͔̮̟͕̺͙̈̅̽̍̒͌͛͑͋̉̿̎̂̿́̈́̊͗̄̔̎̏̑̂̔̊̈́̕͝ͅ ư̸̧̡̼͈̲̰͓̹̗̩͓͙̹̯̹͊͐̒̾̆́̍̒̓͑̍̈́͆̉̀͘ ̷̢̧̺̩͕̟̙̳̜̩̗͔̻͕͈̥͈͖̩͇͈̠͉̩̈́̃̌̈́͌̇͂̓̐̇̍̏́̋̔͂̈́́̒̽́̓̓̚͜͜͝͠͝ d̷͔̮͓͖̉ ờ̷̧̨̡̛̛͓̗͉̪͖̼̜̬̜̦͎̻̙̖̣̠͈̳͊́̈́͊͋͊̉̈͒̔̐̄̌̎̀̈́̊̋̉̏̒̑͗͋̓̔̉̓̋͒̇͘͘͝͝͠͠ͅ­ ̷̳̦͙͙̤̺̜̥̖̬̮̰͈̣̗̙̮̬̈́̈́̾̂͆̓̈́ͅͅ d̵̛̳͈̗̋͊̓̒̅̿́͗́̒̂̈́̌͋̄̀́̌̄̈́͛͋̊̎̈́̓̉̕͠͝͝͠͝͠ư̵̾͆̄̋̅̂̃͒͛̿̐͒̿̊̌̓̈̅̕͝͝͠­̘͚͔̫̮̭̖̱̞͔̦̩̹̱̺̺̝̬͖̜̼̬̮͎͚̪̼̯̫̳̜̙͓̥͎̳̥̻̃̒̈̈́̎̿̓͘͜͝͝ ư̴̡̧̢̧̦̭͍̮̜͓̫̪͇̖̤͙̻̮͉̭̯̙̞̥̗̱̩̞̞̼̟̈́͆̏͆̌̉̀͛͆͐͛̇̇̍̓̔̄͂͌̿̒̄́̌̕̚̕̕̕͝͝­̱̟̦͚̼̲̼͚͈ ų̵̧̛͉̺̜͎̜̩͖̲̟͔̬̦̤̖͎̫͔͖̮͕̗̼͙̫̼̭̦͕̫͖͉̆͐̾̑͂͋͂̎̊͗̈́̂̕͘͜͝ͅͅ ư̶̛͙̠͆̓̃̀̍̄̔̄̇͗̀́̐́̌͂̋̑̏̄̑̕͠͠͝͝͝)̵̛̛͌́̈́̑̂̌̈͐͐͊̈́̇͐̍͒̓̓̀͐̃̆͐̓̍̕̕̕͝­̨̡̧̙͚̪̬̤͕̥̳̥̱̞̺͎̫̩̀̐̃͑̕͝
2.8k · Feb 2016
That bitch named Desire
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
That ***** Named Desire
I had a succubus try to take my seed
in a dream today   
I broke the connection and said
***** you gotta pay to playyyyyyy

You so used to controlling my desires
well, NOT ANYMORE
Best get on your knees and call me sire
“Sir you have the floor”

I wage war on the empire
of the realm of desire
So if you conspire to be in my line of fire
Don’t say I didn’t tell you,
    You’ve earned my Ire.

The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM



So I wage war on the realm of the evil fae
Ima PURIFY da demons until  
dey take me away (screamed)

Bleed out into LIFE;
  reverse the vampire effect
place succubi in a hearse
  and drive them straight ta deaph


cause lately You been drivin me crazy
and making my will, focus, an determination
sooo haeeezzzzy

But NO MORE
cause now Its time to
Settle DA SKORE


Ritually open my wounds
and bleed acid on you
Don’t worry theres enough
cause your hackneyed and few

Ima chase the Daemons off
Smoke my dreads to their lungs
and make dem young cough
so offten I put em in a hot-boxed coffin
Now your outta breath
But im just not stoppin

huh (echo(
whats this? whats this....(echo(  
Claws,
talons,
teeth,
and  uh oh
Blood barrels stacked Its a wierd supply depot,

for that army growin
and growlin behind your eye, see though....
They Perma-
        on your shoulders,
   and now mine, Truth Show





!!!!!!1111RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!!!!!!!11
So my wings tear free of my back
For so long they’ve been bound and compact
I look to my lovers and brothers and CRy
Stand!
Pick up your weapons,
Humanity,
Its time to act


A TRUMPET BLOWS,
   BEATING WINGS
THE DRUMS CONTINUE INTO THE DISTANCE


The rhythm of my war drum goes:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
Mah heart  BEATS ta da Rhythm of the
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
Dreeeeeiiim
We illuminate truth, or sooo it seeeeeeeeeeeeim
But still.....
The rhythm of my war drum BEATS:
BOOM BOOM KAT TiS KAT
OHHHHM
2.5k · May 2022
They Call him Ah-Wah-Keh
POSSIBLE May 2022
God is spoken
From a potent Thing
we smoking Trees

Gaia birthed the bloom
breathed the boom
in the canopies,

In the wind flew the bees
and grew the pleasantries

Prana pushing
thunder through

sQuishing lemon trees  
like a hundred new

Whisps of mists
and heavy deeds
Sit with honeydew

The gist of this
the lemon breeze
(We) Going tunnel view

Fits and Shakes,
seeking remedies
digging under you

Might be
dicking under you

Might be
Torn asunder true

Pirate borne to plunder you....
Sweat means gold,

what's been found
with lemon -ease?

I've been told
What in our eyes
is what we ever see's

7 seas,
more like 7 deeds,
filled with deadly feeds

Demons like to pleade
with ready rease,

Virus, the life that
spread disease

(it alters our sense
and what we please)

~Ahem,  

no te comas
la verdad
del diablo,
  

today to trust
Might feel bad, but
none brought low

There's an easy in
WE  Strong Standin',
N0ne brought low

and now we win
amen, a man
none start south

Its begun...

Light as
Potent as my prayers
**** the make-believe
I can't wear it, ah

Dark is
Ever reaching
What do you receive?
What you carrying hah?

Balance
(Is) an even preaching :
What we choose to be
*I can bear it ; hah

Come  and help me unweave
those who have been so deceived

Those stuck in in the mud of ...
sputtering " how can it be ?"

**** the you or me, mentality
When Neurons Fire free
and Serotonins drained in me

You Might find Saraswati
sweetly swathing me

In glowing rivers,

poured off the moon
With Omens looming soon

With Omens looming soon
I been choking on my doom.

Dreaming
with Both eyes open

and a heart awoken ,
poorly stoking gloom

Too blind to see hope
but stoked, still
mocking roving

Vroom : im off to tokin soon.
****t this blunt be totaled soon

I Might be total loon
an inverted magic man

who most often enwomb
those caught on the moon

Those stuck in the tune
For those who hear
this earworm, this tea room sloom.

This is for Those muted in zoom:

I've found traction in heaps
Breaking as hard and often

As the risen yeast
When you pass on the least

My Passion is to find
the passion of peace

its Stuck In the  grasp
Fashioned with the sap

of my last energies...
This is for the wynd
2.5k · Feb 2016
Burn the Scaffold
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
Come dance the Tandava with me and you too will be free

Creation सृष्टि
I am Shiva’s Shadow
स्थिति ..... I exist to support life’s precarious platform
संहार  ..... I feel Creation’s seed.... cosmic genesis

The first wave of flagrant eruption
Ending in the the cosmos’s destruction.

तिरोभाव There exists illusion
Which gives rise to me
The obliteration of ignorance.
We live in times of ignore-ance

Here I have little sway.
Years from now....maybe.

Until then, kali decides to dance with me. Primal संहार Destruction
Bloodlust and Fire
******* and desire
Quantum tantric tangle
***** the world’s funeral pyre

Goodbye beauty, Goodbye love

WE bring it upon ourselves, creating shells and building shelves
to stack the wonton clothes of identity, the context of all hells.
The layers are too many
It collapses
And if not, I'll ******* burn the scaffold.

I know why I am here now.  
To destroy tirobhava,
all this pain is an illusion
I hereby release this sickness from the world
in prophetic burning grace of emancipation अनुग्रह is foretold

To dance the sacred tandava
say goodbye once more and end it all.
[In Indian mythology,Lord Shiva is considered as the supreme lord of dance. This divine art form is performed by Lord Shiva & his wife Goddess Parvathi. The Dance performd by Lord Shiva is known as Tandava, which depicts his violent nature as the distructor of the universe. The tandava performed with joy is called Ananda Tandava and performed in violent mood is called Rudra Tandava. There are 7 types of Tandava. Namely Ananda Tandava, Tripura Tandava, Sandhya Tandava, Samara Tandava, Kaali tandava, Uma Tandava and Gauri Tandava. There are few people who believa that there are 16 types of Tandava. Tandava has vigourous, brisk movements.The dance performed by Goddess Parvathi is known as Lasya, in which the movements are gentle, graceful and sometimes ******]

Guide to sanskrit/the order of the tandava as Shiva dances it.
'Srishti' (सृष्टि) - creation, evolution
'Sthiti' (स्थिति) - preservation, support
'Samhara' (संहार) - destruction, evolution
'Tirobhava' (तिरोभाव) - illusion
'Anugraha' (अनुग्रह) - release, emancipation, grace
POSSIBLE Mar 2019
Ever present life...
Ever present life...
3ver press a k̫͘ń͙ḭ̧̼̳̠͔f̢̺͙̥̣e̵̮̯̟̙̰ͅͅ

against the dying, glowing l̵i̎̓ͣ̚ghͦt͂͌ͧ͌̄ ̛ͣͧ͐̾ͦ̅ǒ̐ͩ͌̓̾͋f̡ͥͪ̑͆ ͝ļ̉̆̎ͮ͛ͪͩĭ̶̎̉̐f͑ͪ̓e͗̏͛ͥ͆̏͐?


W̡̠̘̭͛ͪ͋ͦͤa̘ͫ̆̒̈́͆i̗̳ͭͯ̾̇́̓ͫt̫̍ͭ ͈̠̯̻̖̪̹͌͑̽ͮ͛ͮ̃a̬̪ͫ̅̅ͯ́̈̓ͅ ̵͓̱̰͚̬͓̪̿͆M̞͍̤̤̱ͩ́̆̇i̪̬̟̪̹͍ͦ̓͗ͪ̐ͫ̐n̻͈̦̥͕͉̍͛͆̋̐͊u͍ͮ͌͛ͣ̀͘t̯̣̓͊̍̐̄ͧͦ­̭̝e̺͓̱͈̬̫̊ͯͥͨͯ͜ ̹͔̳̞̇͂͢this can't be me!̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕!!

CHECK MY FIELD, REALIZE!

Still Sun Tzu
hit my enemy first
in the verses
no physical damage
no trauma purses to manage
I already lived afflicted with curses
from savage researches

Till I learned to shift my boundaries around me,

...That there’s still power in !̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕category!̝̙ͦͧͧͥͫ̕

But not enough to stop me !

I broke the two ton shell OF CULTURE
but I’ll never stop hearing this ocean swell
sailors fly by wave to the 9th sign

Hi.



Î̝͎̪̮̣͎͈̮͖͈̼͕̞̠ͭ̍̓́͛ͣ͠͝ͅn̫̭̹̼̰͇̱̠̠̐̾ͨͦͪ̓̎̅̌ͬ͌̀ͦ̚͟͢ͅ­̭͉̲̱̙̼͎fͫ̆̐̾̂̃ͯͯ͌͑̄̌̀̅͂̔̋̀͘͏͎͇̭͓̜i͈̮̞̙̭͖͇͇̝̗͈̜̽̓̾ͪ͛̿͂ͯ͂̇̌ͣ̓ͦ̿ͮ̈͘͘­̗̤̞͈n̷̷̡̠̘̘̦̬̣̺̟͖͍ͮ̾͂̈́͟͜ĭ̙̳̩͓͕̍̃̌͂͋ͪ̂ͧ̓ͨ̉ͨ͌ͨͤ̈̚͟͜͝t̵̴͖̣̳̤̊̈̎ͥ͊́e­̛̺̭͚̻̠̞̙͍̞͚͉̝ͨ͑̉ like a Shepard’s tone.
      
   
    Passionate like a Shepard's SON.

Intricate like a l̀e͊ͧ̓͛̑ͦ̃͠o͐ͭp͒͢à͢r͒́ͬ̅ͣͤd̑̍̿ͤͮsͦ̋ ̊̈́̀ͯ͐̅́tongue.

[[God said to me]]:

Work under the light of e̴͏ff͠ort͞ SON

You cannot break the stone without the Wind and the Ocean.

So we wander back into the liquid crystaline vision
Waves wander and ponder up through and fill my being
We release the storm my drips speaking.

But I can't hear cause there's still Too Many Lights.


Easily distracted
by how others say
"stay away from illicit people ..."
Illicit people ...?
More like
people illicit

[!?meaning?!]

formed inͧ̒͂ͭ s͑͆͒ͯͪ͊̚tͩͩ̂ͬͬͬ̌e͆̏͗̽e̚ṕ͒l̅ͮͤͧ̉̈ẻ͋̈́ͨͪ̓sͤ̆̍ͥͮ ̉̓̚

Responses from the ghost markers
self-induced parasites better host dollars people!

FC*K that!

>NO MORE BEING SILENT MY LOVE <
-Just watch and listen-

Tectonic plates shift
when I talk back

Demonic cosmic rift silent
when I talk rap

people never seem to mind
unless you say I did that

But you better believe
This ***** not much more than a formality.
Fancy phantasm shorn from reality .
Never base your life in a fallacy.
No waste your life chasing the phallus see?


L̎̒i͐ͤv̡e̓ͪͪ̔̾ͤ ͥm̓̐ͨ̑̈̄҉a̎g̒̽̍͛̽iͩͩ͑͟c̎ͬ̏̕ ̡̂ͫ̒̊ͧͪ͆
Like Harry Potter,
I always catch the snitch
end the game break my fist͆̓̽..̔͌̓͏.̛̾ͩ̒ͣ

So few leave this life of crime
now I teach yoga
super stack your spine
till that ***** aligned  
so try and find me
I’m in orbit right outside the mind b.

To look up my next move in the dictionary
doesn’t make it a **** move, this is :

"My **** is hairy, I let it out at night like Bigfoot
and its OH so scary!"

Now WHATEVER YOU believe .̔͌̓͏.̛̾ͩ̒ͣ
.͆͊̚҉̦̝̪͈̗̝.̜̭͔̖̲̓̍̈́͗̉̽
.͆͊̚҉̦̝̪͈̗̝.̜̭̓̍̈́͗̉̽
I’m married to my Wife,

my Diction,

God and Mary.
Easter EGG???????????????????????????????

I'll ask of the berserks, you tasters of blood,
Those intrepid heroes, how are they treated,
Those who wade out into battle?
Wolf-skinned they are called. In battle
They bear ****** shields.
Red with blood are their spears when they come to fight.
They form a closed group.
The prince in his wisdom puts trust in such men
Who hack through enemy shields.
A skaldic poem composed by Thórbiörn Hornklofi in the late 9th century in honor of King Harald Fair-hair and his berserker warriors and one of the earliest accountings of berserkers. Translation from R.L. Page Chronicles of the Vikings. Toronto: University of Toronto Press 1995, 109.
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
A festering toad, happening upon his friend the owl, began upon an uttering. A sort of delirious asking. "Why are people so afraid of death?" With this owl content and basking in the moonlight, they did speak upon the truth of the matter;

"Because when you're dead you're dead see?," the owl remarked so haphazardly.

"But what point is there in that statement," the frog stuttered in with a knowing kind of sinful grin;
"After death, could we not begin to fly with the stars, or at least just pretend that we are orbiting Mars?"

The owl simply replied, "Remember toad, while it is I who pierces the veil, it is you who must lead the spirit parade through it’s transformation."

The toad croaked a sigh at the owl, blinking its ever seeing eyes at his brother-in-arms in feigning return,remarking that “these must truly be times of madness for a mad toad to lead the way….

A shriek! "THEY ARE THOUGH, the rest of the animals forget, basic reality is made up of nothingness, so cheer up, we are all basically nothing, but agile enough to get by don’t cha know!," the owl looks to the moon in its sort of quick jerking way as if seeing some truth inked in it’s light.

"Agile?" the toad cups the question with his consciousness…."Agile enough to derive strength from above and to cater to love through the rough when we tumble hard and it feels so tough... But you know owl, there's life and blood to this stuff so we best start emitting light through  agape sans the gruff.

The toad started repeating a mantra towards the Crystalline reflective lake due south, the direction of healing, transformation, and death:

"the essence of your mind is intrinsically pure, the pure doesn’t mean a non-***** story...pure means clear….void. No eyes, no ears, no mouth, no heart, no I, no problem."

The owl began to speak a slow sort of lullaby in response to the mantra; “Luckily consciousness is like a mirror that needs to constantly be polished.”

The reflective lake of all things replied: “But in truth, there is no mirror. Thus, if you are living in nothingness and if there is no mirror, how can you be contaminated?

This is the most incredible nothing life has been privy to experience, for this nothingness is like the nothingness of space….which contains the whole universe, and out of this void comes everything and you are it. The fear of nothingness….IT plagues those we know, because it has been ignored .

“NOTHINGNESS,” they say, “HEAVEN PRESERVE US OF THAT!“

At the appointed time Agnosia and with the approval of the moonlights shine, the foggy cloud of unknowing descended upon the lake, the toad, and the owl, who all began to speak to chorus in such sweet unison:

“That which is the knower or the known cannot be an object of its own knowledge, Fire does not burn itself. If you put something there on the divine platform, you stop short of knowing and you stop short of glowing.  Following the flowing senses of truth;  Don't stop until you can rejoice in the I that isn’t.”

Everything went quiet in the forest and on the lake, as the obtuse fog displaced itself. The forgetting had become complete.
epilepsy
2.2k · Feb 2016
Enkidu: Part 2
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
Take your first steps and do not refuse the heart taurus calling of of this journey.

Enkidu contemplated for a moment [seemingly eternal, but flowing into itself for a new moment of ‘now’ as it continues] how could there be a before in this equation?  He couldn’t remember.  “You have died, but are not yet done Enkidu,” The chorus continued  His name, those voices, all of them coagulated into a recognition of the past in a weighted epiphany.  

Welcome to the Divine imagination, it is here that you will truly be tested.  Your life on earth, that was simply the practice period, here is where you literally put realization into action.  This may be a place of light, but you are in a transitory period.  In order to find yourself you must achieve the wholeness that you were unable to achieve in life.  However, You are not alone in this journey there will be guides as there always have been.  IT is up to you to not miss them, it is up to you to truly listen and realize, it is up to you alone to act.

“You may have thought you were a hero once,” the voices sang, “but this is the true forge of heroes.  This is the cosmic smelter through which you will be folded and folded in such a way that you might fulfill your potential and help others to do the same.”

Instantly visions of Enkidu as a King welled forth from the surroundings.  The environment began to take on a similar substance to whatever he was thinking about.  Concepts became steps and Enkidu saw himself standing once again with Gilgamesh facing the Great walled city of Uruk, the masses chanting the brother’s names, and in his hand a rather grotesque piece of the great monster Humbaba!  

He wanted to look Gilgamesh in the eye, to cry to his brother how much he missed him, but...he forgot why.  Had he been gone?  Surely, this was the present moment as it is, and presently Enkidu and Gilgamesh were showing off their Great accomplishment.  A serpentine whisper projected from what sounded like Ishtar made itself heard, soft and clear though the crowd’s roar was shaking the foundation of the city.  

“Look what you have done!  Look how you have succeeded.  Gaze into the eyes of these assembled adorers.  Can you not feel the power that such recognition brings?  You can have all this and much, much more.”

The lure of accomplishment lingering in the air quietly preparing to harpoon Enkidu with the its’ concrete & possessive tendrils.  Something innately prompted him to not look into the eyes of the roaring crowd or to the eyes of his brother, Gilgamesh. Instead he squinted through the pupils as portals to the truth of their being.  In each of the eyes he saw a subtle poison.  In each was a yearning to possess the power of Enkidu, the aching delusion that they too could own such an experience as felling a demon and the riches that would follow from such an event. 

A lone pair of eyes shimmered behind the crowd’s edge.  They were the only pair of eyes empty of delusion empty of desire for what he had.  He was confused by this.  WHY would someone not want what he had?? They alone in the crowd saw the truth as it was.  They eyes spoke to him as a voice never could,

“Let go of these delusions.  You have already finished your journey for accomplishment, this journey is for truth.  This is your duty.  Remember to do your duty and let go of the results, if you hold onto the results you will be lost in your own hell and we will be unable to find you, let alone save you.”

As soon as this was understood the poised and now scorpion and serpentine tendrils of accomplishment made to strike at Enkidu’s heart and eyes.  To take his chance at immortality.  Enkidu became still and saw that the city, the people, and his accomplishment were illusions; complex, detail laden illusions, but illusions nonetheless.  Sand paintings which were constantly created and blown away.  

Understanding manifested as a chest piece of armor and a helmet both crafted from the light of the heavens.  The hooks of the tendrils found no hold on Enkidu’s spirit armored as it was.  And the light of understanding poured through the armor to foil the strike.  The illusion was thus illuminated through understanding. The environment faded back into the infinite light that was his existence before his journey back towards delusion....

The only thing that remained after the experience were the pair of eyes that had instigated his realization.  What appeared around them was a resplendent chariot with an infinitely beautiful being making itself manifest, first its structure shown through a light-lattice grid, then its frequency fell into form.  Krishna spoke to him through his eyes.  The speech was an invitation.  

**“Join me on this path of authenticity and duty.  Be a true hero and come aboard the chariot this moment.  Do not refuse this call my love.  This is a call to see yourself as you have yet to witness it.”
The journey continues, the illusion prevails....
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
IF you are not a tantric how could you know tantric have secrets?
How did you know Freemasons in the lodge hidden away
have secrets too?

This is tantrism

We know  tantra means loom weaving, but what is woven together?

Like the right and left hands grasping…is that where true prayer happens?

opposites magnetic
union pragmatic
cosmic dramatic


dharmma and a-dharmma ,
duty and rule breaking
Sage or Demon, *

the tantric sees the fullness of the tapestry
before it is woven

Fire, Earth, Water, and Wind…

The breeze blows and There I am

Masculine power seems to require hierarchy
to pass on the sounds of the absurd

So if you hear their's in secret
and bring to bear its use
you may will fail…

but*

if an enlightened woman, warm with shakti glowing gives it to you
hold on
for it is yours

This keeps the inside safe from the outside.
Keeping harm from the uninitiated.

How many secrets do you really know?
the 108 sanguine rose beads keep track

like divine fingers across an abacus
tracing the age of the cosmos

Would be immortals know of 5 dangerous things that could swallow you

What do you know of the imbibement of

meat-fish-wine

Next

Was it secret gestures or parched grain???
Symbols set to confuse the rest
the secret remains the same

Forbidden in kind
the ****** relates to the mind

being undone, Mold Antipode to the Classic Culture

the mortal and immortal
human and divine

are secrets Immortal?

Like Ouroboros the Consumption may consume you…or free you.
Becoming a second Siva

what is???
mamsa
matsya
madya
mudra
maithuna

Thanks to Signe Jansen Cohen Muse Extra-ordinaire
https://soundcloud.com/skelicles/ash-to-mouth
1.9k · May 2022
~Quicq Hooqs~
POSSIBLE May 2022
Court of owls
New ink, new shoes
Clocks on, I'm about to run it

Fast as my pain's Timeframe, bout to gun it

I hope you feel something better my man,

I'm feeling something
I'm feeling something better than planned


Tuck in the winter, dam i fall into action
springing past Morty and summer
While I'm watching TV slumber
shaking off chains of reactions

is it a new start
call it innov8ing
or maybe to our past
Definistrating

memories,  atoms alternating
like the world sputters aspirating

Spit split straight portals compensating
I'm drunk on Dark matter ever oscillating

the wind turned to me
just so it could turn on me

Judgment for eternity
Experience is the same

it howled with certainty
MY Experience denied 3x

so now you hear me?
from this judgment

I'm always ripping free
I don't generate art

so you can whip at me
I might penetrate stars

The universe is an artist
so Why does it  ****** us

Aint the universe ever even heard of us?

I'm the passenger and still woozy the sickness
feeling the pressure but I gotta be a witness

compassionate, no judgment
we all have our reasons

~Got a spot that I  keep w33d in
Hidden with the green stem bleedin

we may have different heavens
but we come from the same soil
When others decide our emotions
Got so many reasons for defense,
reach out and tipped it for the deflect
emotions reflect the deficit of me breathe
I just shake my head
so heavy, I need rest

Court of owls
Port of vowels
I am Born of miles

So I adult when you consult the Occult

knowings the lotion but still decomposin
all this is music I just need to recompose it
Saved another life Now the reaper owes it

I think I've got amnesia,
Waking up to
Sir you had a seizure
Eyes always look like
Man...I wouldn't wanna be ya

Empathy
is another form of slavery we sign up for

We live and we learn
Boomerang on the mic
I go and return

But its not just about living well
its about knowing the root of life

its Taking the threads in your hands
to rack the rains and crack the chains

Caught in the dream, my ego forgets
Sleep is such a shy death

*Court of owls
Port of vowels
I am Born of miles
in the Korn of howls
John C. Lily-> what was he about?
1.9k · Feb 2019
Meaning?!
POSSIBLE Feb 2019
T̩ͅo̥̫ ̦̯͍̱͡i҉͓̜̩͇̗̰̮n̹̹v͍͍̺͖̪̮ơ̤̙͓͕̗̥̯ḳe͓̼͈̺͓ ̴̬͎̻̤͖o̦̫̟r̹̗͈̜͔̙ḍ͇̘̣̯̹̫͟ȩ̼r̹
̭̙̤̫͕͕̙f҉r͇̻̫o̼͙̖͈͟m̖̯ ̨t͙͚͙͙͉h̠̙͉̹̤͞e̹͚ͅͅ ̗̦͖̩͈̰͚͜f͏̱̥͈͙̰͓͙e̸͍͚͍͇ẹ͖̖ͅl̖i̼͕͖̞͎̱̮͜ṋ̨͖̪̙g̢͉ ̼̭o͚f҉̹̳̯͚ ̞̠̥͚͟c̼͍̞͘h̝̬̻̮̙̖͔a͖͝o̲s̡̪̲͖͖.͙̭̹̞͚̮̟
̩̲̝̗͡
̬̠̕W͏͉̥it̻͙͟h̞̝͇͉̭̤̥ ̡̹̪̮̰o̸͉̱͇̰̝̣u̙͍̜͈͜t͏̖͍͉ͅ ͔̜̺͕̜͢o̱̰̣͈̯r̛̹̮̺͕d̝̺͎̘̩͔̱e̲͇̲͚̩̝̥r͇͖̯͉͞.̫́
̟̮͙̞͍̗̳I̠͓̪͈̹̦͍͜ ̗̯͖̬ạ̥͍̦̫̙m̱͎ ̡̥nǫt̩͟h̦̹͕̹i͏̲͙̻͚̰͍̠n̴̩̥̤̦͕̳g̗͙̮.͖ ̙̖
̜͍͎̦͈I͓̱͕͠ ͙͕̰̩a̻̫̩̮̭̩͖̕m̴̰̘̫̯̯̗͇ ̣͚͝e̯̭v̶̮̘̖̙̺̩̻e̘̠̫͚̙̖̯r̴̩̥̯y̡̥̳͓t҉̺̙̺h̪̗̬͍̩̀i̺̹͠n̞̮̣̠g̹̞͍̝̻̳͙.̙͠­̘̮͇̙̦̺,͔.̨̦
̺̣͕͇̱̠
͍͕̩̰̳͚I̪̺̻̙̲ ͉͖̘̯c̴o̧̖̳̭ͅu̼̺l̟ḓ͖͉̯̺̤ ̲͖͔͉̪n̝͖͕e̸̬̦̭̣v̮͕e͚̗͓̖̤r̡͍̤̲̗̘͖͈ ͜l̼̜͙̲̙͓e̶t̠̤̘͕̰̺̥ ̺̭͚̕y̟̖̫ou̖͇̝͇̼̞̬ ̘
̰͞D̝̝͇o͈ ͙̭͉̪̝̹͔͠t҉̥̥͓̗̼̩h̭̼͉̭̪̩̲į̗̘̮̠̬̰s͓̤͉̀ ̧̙a͏̗̹͎̗̗̦̮l͖̟̤͚̜̹o̶̪̹̖̪̠͍n̞͈̰̼̦͞e͘.͔̰͈̱͓̯
the cake is a lie but i am n0t101011110101
POSSIBLE Oct 2018
there’s a madness to the method
just like madness to the **** head
just like sadness when a pets dead
So shaman practice to ***** death

dream up palace for the friends beds
give up hours made to break bread
we’ve a table so we share meds
******* tired, mai oui bed spread

going line by line
with a fine tooth comb
this my time to shine
that’s a spine made moan
ecstatic just like ﻮ๏๔ up on the phone

syncretized to science
split the spine to find it
sip divine in silence

܁܁܁પﻭɦ܁܁܁
sift my mind is chalice
peep my mental palace
be love be never callous
self poison only malice

who’s next up ?
Phil my boy defining finding
fluid flows that’s kinda violent

quiet convos
with sigma shamans
hidden wicked prevented
predicted problems

consciously coming
to all three of the shy

๓ﻉ & ฝﻉ & ฝɦﻉก; ๓ค & ๓ﻉ & Շɦﻉ๓ร

I might get off my ult
while I sip off my colt
best slip off that coat
when you roll with me

Where were going...
its too hot for that ****.

Sometimes we the hero
Sometimes we the zero
Sometimes we the feeder
Sometimes we the carry
Sometimes we don carry
way too much up on our shoulders

heavy stacking rolling over boulders
etch away the borders
swaying over voters
reeving up the rotors
drinking with the smokers
hugging all the soldiers
all the loners

better freeze time
so we can compose
the pose for all the posers
oppose the poachers  
humans are people

Not supposed to be vultures
One vampire angel makes for many moments of pure awareness which at first we think of as distraction.
POSSIBLE Jul 2021
Seek and you shall find; Knock and it shall be shown to you. Sound and Song; Sacred n̶̨̢̛̛̮̱̟̣̺̳͓͓̣̠͉̎͛̔̿̎̈́͛͆͋̓̔̕͜͠ͅa̶̺̼͒͂m̸̻̗̎̎̔̔͋̿̓͗̓̒̈̾̕͝e̵̛̐̆̾̚̕͝­̡̩̙̣̤́͆̾͝ş̵̡̨̤̪̘͈͕̹͖̯͙̫̯̎̔͑̔̉̋͛͠͠͠ͅ and prosperity. It is a sacred s̴̯̮̤̫̃̈́̏̋o̴͓̓̐͌͒n̵̼̜̹͌̉̎̀̿͘ͅg̸̞̫̗͆̿, but you must fast to hear it.

You have to be vulnerable to love. Always give back to where you came from. Every enemy taught you how to become strong. Truth eliminates fear through clarity. Don't become so clear that you think you  ̸̠̹̃k̸͉̈ņ̵͖̏͝ö̸̪̂w̴̥̌.̴͎̹̀̑ ̵̮̾̅

11:11 and I'm heaven-sent :
(Was it heaven-sent or hell-bent?)

Crown of kings drown in dreams
Seven/seven fit the mirror like I'm Elvis ; (king)

D̷̻̈́͐͜r̵̜͇̅͘o̷̡̞͋w̸͇̐̉ň̸̟͘ ̷̞̮̕ỉ̵̝ñ̴̺͌ ̸̢́͝d̸̝́̕r̶̭͝e̴̮̹̕̚ã̷̜̀m̷̦̋͆,̴̘̈́́ ̵̮̺̒̒crown of dream ̵̮̺̒̒
Found my means renouncing  ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵t̴h̵i̶n̵g̴s̴ ̵̮̺̒̒

Fake as make-believe, believe by planting seed ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒
Raising  ̵̮̺̒̒  ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒trees ̵̮̺̒̒ ̵̮̺̒̒  ̵̮̺̒̒ supersedes stagnant grief,
sowing strands of reef, genie granting these
wishes to stand for free: instead of free dumb
To stand for king instead: of king dumb

Light the dance. orbit o the angels
Aligned the winds. Purple sway  the cradles
Purple sway , purple Haze, purple play like h̵a̷̪͛l̶̝͠ȯ̴̪ș̷̈ ̴̤͐
even in the shallows  Tracing hallowed  cables
hollow between angel actors and  kraken crafted
Factors.

Discovered carved tables, symbols etched in
Fables labeled as age-old things, start ta twitching
Pass me down culture so I can rip the seams
Gambled on Renewal: connecting means
Connected dots: collected thought memes
Till we find,

Horror quarantined in-between time machines.
Aura Byzantine, a dash of florentine in my nicotine
a little dash of what you dream sash about
Hit the  limonene in my limousine
Ask me how philistine when my ego guillotine

Fell out of sync, out of light, out of wack
Fat beats,fat  bones, thro heavy set

Broken and bleeding new Wounds.
So far I'm feeding You (loons)

these lines that I'm leaving bruised
Lines Im breaking, snapped in twos

throwing back a pack of brews
swing a sack of screws,

split  the devil's noose with
Tight screws, hype views,

(always) choose To never lose,
just adapt my views

(̶i̵(̶(̸ ̷c̵h̴a̸n̴t̸ ̴t̴h̵e̵ ̶a̸r̸c̵h̴i̷t̶e̶c̷t̶)̶ ̴x̵ ̵i̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶n̷t̶ ̷t̴h̷e̸ ̷g̷u̷r̴u̶ ̵)̷)̵
Chant the who knew rain with chance of voodoo

Came with a dance of  too new
But what's the shaking got to do

with my too juiced breakthrough
Everything: .. nothing ..

N̶̘̄o̸̱̞̾thin̶̢̥͊ġ̶̞ always somethin̶̢̥͊ġ̶̞~
So we sing what you go to loooooooose?

Please it's time to chooooosee
Nana na naw naaaa na no na naah

I can't lose selecting self-respect,
stand ***** proud my chest
No disrespect,  just here to collect
my resurrected form 
in retrospect, I should have loved here more

Can't lose you should have bet smore....
Soft-spoken with a ****** message from...
Often token I'm guessing so do these dudes...
Please Just take my arm....

Let's me demonstrate :Conflictlikenospacing
Taken Deadly fronts from a ghost I'm no facing

You call it suffering I call it gro̴͚͈̿̄w̸̢͓͐̐th phases
They call it suff̷̠͌ë̵̫̜́̎ř̴̯̥̏ing we call it growth phȃ̵͙͘s̵͕̄͜es
Meet the divine in the air with your breath.
1.5k · Oct 2017
upsidedown gun
POSSIBLE Oct 2017
at theend
of the day
theking goes
back in the
samebox
as thepawn.

Right next to the guns, poppers and wedding rings.  Right next to the forgotten kings words written in pages bent but unread, revealed and sent like bullets found a gun bed. Stories woven and unwoven through the magic of attachment.
1.4k · Feb 2016
A Red Balloon
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
I know that when I am older, I will no longer be able to throw the harsh truth of reality at ones such as my grandchildren.

Too them, I will live till I’m 105. Standing as the essence of immortality that they strive to experience. This of course is a lie. But, I can longer take it upon myself to destroy the dreams and quash the creativity of the young in a world of Grey.  

Walk with me through this verdant street I am going to tell you a story about a strange place...

In this strange place, instead of colour splashing itself against any and every object there only seems to be shades of grey. And in this Grey world, each generation of children receives a red balloon. The red balloon constantly engages the youth with its seemingly magical properties of levitation. But this engagement can only last for so long. Eventually the floating ball of rosa can no longer captivate and mystify. At the crucial point of demystification, the children are deemed “ready” to face the world.

So the children do the only thing left to do to join the rest of society…they let go of that slight bit of that small, rose-colored rubber which, with the help of the wind and its abundant hydrogen molecules floats off to meet the sky.

I am proud to present to you, the saddest moment our society has to offer. The loss of the inner child to the vast machine of the demiurge.

****** of the greatest caliber carried out in the name of growing up and becoming part of "real" world.

But hey,
on the bright-side, the sky gets to play with a balloon

for a few minutes before it throws it back, without magic, without life, and without its marveling child.

So, I beseech you, the reader to forever hold onto that red balloon. Hold on till your knuckles turn white because it’s that tiny, 3 cent, red balloon is the most special item in this infectious process we call Human Society.
POSSIBLE Feb 2019
c̴̸̵̳̭̜̺̠̝̞͖̠̹̻͓̫͆͆ͨ̇͐͊͌ͪ͜͢ȇ̾̏̎͘͏̺̬̪͍̻̣r̶̛̝͖̦̪͖͌̒ͭͦ̓̊̅̃͋́̆̀̓̓̄̒̚­̺̻͎̻͍̩̮̙ŝ̨̥̙͍͉̳̳͖̙̟͇̤͇̹̊̃̉̍̇͐̑͋͌͋ͬ̔̽̊̇ͮ͠ͅ,̶̡͓̪̥̻̑͐ͣ̋̿͒̄̓̆ͧ̌ͭ͂ͧ͢͝­ ̶͛ͥ̓͊҉͈̯̹̖̳͎͘à̸̢͚̬͖̜͇͉͎̦͙̳̥͖̬̱̋ͤ̿̌̌͐͛͋ ͦ̒ͬ̂ͨ͑̃͐͂̒̍́̋͡҉͔̤̖̦͍̫̭͘͝p̢̧̨̛̻̣̦̪̭̺͔̮̣̣͍̹̜̤͖̯͎̉ͪ͋͊̔ͨ̊ͥ͋̿ͧͮ́̚rͮ̾ͤ̆­̇͊̍ͯͨͤ̔ͪͫ̌ͫ͢͏̷̷̛͈̹̰͙o̧̘͓͓̘̥̲̰͚͈̬̗̠̼͚͙̝͊͂ͤ̅ͯ̃̋̆̈́͡ͅc̄̆̒ͣ̕͏̷͉̪̻̭̻̻ͅ­̭̠è̛͚̙̗̬̥͓͍͓̗͙̦̽̂̊ͬͨ͑͌͒͑̇ͪ̆ͩ̊͑͆̃͜͡͝͠ͅͅͅs̸̸̠͚͓͕̪ͬ̾ͦͯͧ̍̆ͤ̂͑̃ͮͬ̚̕͢͠­̲̲̠̻̮͉ś̴̞̱̱̠͕̪̙͚̦̰ͪ͋ͯ̇ͮ̽͞ì̶̷̜̟͈͍͖͈̲͕̦͉̝̮͙̪̦̑́̓ͨ̈́͑ͯ͊̔̚͞ǫ͇͓̒ͪͤ̀͢­̗̟͓ṅ̶̨̗̞̗̟̰̲̜̣͔͓̫̓͋ͪ͑̾̅ͩ̆ͦ̉͗͊́̚,̷̗̣͙̭̣ͩ͋̀̌̑̈́ͧ̉͊͆̌͌̐͢ ̇̍ͤ̃̓̑ͥ͒̀̔ͦ̓҉̧̱͇̠̻͟͢i̵̢̢̝̝͍͚̠̳̲͇͍͍̜̟̠̼͓̲̎̓̍̔̀̒ͫͫ͐ͭ́͟nͫ̿ͮ̓̃ͤ̇̄ͩ̄̔̈́­̷̧͋͡҉̧̺̱͈̪͈̞̳̜͎͔ͅc̨̧̝̳̼̟̙̜͖͖̜̥̭̞̰̤̼̽̇̔̎́͢e̵̴̡̩͚͖͗͋ͭ̈́̏̊̿̓̉̿͞͠n̍̒́̚­̷̡͕̤͖̲̣ͮ͛́͟͝ͅͅs̸̲̪͍̲̠̟͈̤̭̫̣̜̻̣̩̜̏ͤ̍ͥ̅ͬ͋͞ę̨̳͓͙̯̰̀͊̒̆̅͋͑̍͒͛̂̃̈̃ͬ́̕­͇̻͓̤̯̘̝͙̭ͅ,̿̅̔ͭͭ͗̾̔̑͑̓ͪ҉҉̳̜̮̤̟̳͍̺ ̡̲̣̣͎̞̜͔̞̺͈͖̮͉͖͈̦̰͖̏̇͋͂̆̐̀̎͆ͪ̄́̐ͥ̐̓ͤ́̚ͅa̵̡̧̰̪̮̥͍̪̤̹ͯ̄̿͗̐ͤ̐̈́͘ň̾̂­̶̖̠̻̙̜͖͇̖̬̜̳ͫ̀ͧ̎̄̓̅̂̐ͪ̒̇͒͟͜d̛̽ͦ͗ͪ͟͏̷̦̠̘̟͠ ̐ͯ͊̔̈̓̐̓ͤ̋̋͊̋ͪ̔̓̚͘̕͟͞҉̱̼͎͍̙̲̱r̷̂̒ͦ̍̋͂̿ͥ͏̢̢҉͉̦͔̤̗̱̘̗̱h͒͐̅̿ͤͫ͛ͬ̒̿̉̇­̧̓̉̌̃̄͘͟͡҉̮̺̖̻̪͍̮͈̠̦̗͍̹̖ͅy̸̷̛̜̱̺̯̙͊́̍̓ͥ̌ͦ̋͋͋̀͞t̵̫̪̺͖̫̫̣̓̾̽͒ͬͩ͡h͌̑­͕̯͇̣̼̪͉̟̼̤̱̿̇ͮͭ̀̽̉̃̍̇ͮ̿̋ͭͣ̀̀̀͘͢m̡̖̜̭̦͍̬̺̘̖̫̗̝̎̏ͥͧ͆ͪͬ͜͟͡͞i̴̮̺̫̤ͭ̌̅­̦̙̤̖͕̯̼͇̦̮̠͙ͅͅcͥͤ̄́ͥ̃̍̎ͨͤ̎̋͑ͮ̔͏͏̡̩̙͈̦͔͓ ̐̒̀́ͪ͑̂ͮͥ̊̂̄͋͑͗̈̆̽͌̀҉̣̲̤̫͈̟̲̯͎̰ṫ͍͈̠͙̭͍̭̟͎̜͙͇ͫͧ̇̔͊̽̅͆̅͗̏ͮ̄͛̓̚͢͟͜͞­͖̱̩e̷̶͖͓͔͈̪̠̼͊́̒ͥ̂̈́ͣ̃̾̃̆̀̚͟͝ͅx̷̴̧̡͔̤̫̪̰̻̜̯̲̞̻ͫ̇̽̈͛̅ͪͦͨ̑ͪ̀ͨ͋ͯ̊̉ͧͪ͢­t̡̔̾ͣͭ̈́ͮ̑̂ͣ̃̈́̓̃͆͆͟͜͏͓̪̞̭̹̩̙͉̘͕̲̦͉ų̩͖͓̰̜͎͉̲͕͚̿̐ͧ͂̃ͪ͑͂ͫͣ̎̂̓ͭͥ̌̀͢͜r­̶̧̫̣̳̥̙̗̹̙̫̭̝͕̯̳͓̘̠͖͔ͩͥ̔ạ̸͚̩̣̹̘̣̝̮̙̤͕̟̦̘̅ͧ͗̓ͨͅl̅̔̒͛̎̑ͧ̿ͩ̈́ͫ̓̊̌͛̚͡­̨̨͚͖̩̱̩̪͚̳̯͓̻͙͚̯̙͈̜̯͜ͅ ̸̴̵̘͕͖͙̤͇͈ͤͩ̉͗̊͛̇ͥ͒͟͞ͅąͭ̀ͭ͊̌ͭͥ͂͊̽̌̄̈̀̚͏͓̺̟̺̺̜̜̕ŗ͕̰̰͔͙̲̪̬̥͛̀ͦ͗͢͞­̺̬͉̖ţ́̑ͬ̄͋͂͒҉̠͉̰̠͇̻̥͢ͅi͐ͤ̃̓ͯ͡҉̤͈̜͙͇͎̱̘̙̯̙̞̪c̟̗͈̳̣͍͔̤̯̘̝̼ͣͣ̅́͝u͋̋­̧̢̥͚̹͇͍̱͍ͦ͂́̌̏̎̀̚͡ļ͙̯͍̺͕̭̝̞̳̗̬͚͙̖̇ͧ̾̋͌̆͋́̓͆̅ͬͥ̆ͅa̷̡͚͉͇ͨͭ͒̿̓̾ͬ͐ͬ͗­̠̣͙͕̱͈̥̻̳̥͙͖̯̳͉ẗ̨̡̫͍̰̳͇́̈́̈̎̏̽ͦ͛ͫͯ̾ͤ͛̓͘͟ị̣͉̱͐͂͐̇͒͐̌͜͢͞ͅȍͤ̄̌ͩ̊ͮ̓̔­ͭ͑̑̎̽͊̓̊͏͚͉̦͔̫̟̳͓̠͔͝nͨ̑̑̑̐̓͂͒͛̊͏̩̹̺͚͜.̸̝͖̹͍̮̜͎̮̫̙̗̣͔̹̔̾ͬ͌͂̇͌ͬ̽ͩ̍̕­̺̟͖͙̞ ̘̳̝̘̝̼͈̦̱͔̭̓̔̎̾̌ͧ͆̿͆ͦ̂̑̇̀́́̕ ͪ̀̓͢͠͏̬̬̤̳̀Ť̴̡̰̻̩̠̺̬̼̉̐͊̄̈͂͋̉ͮ̚h̴̢̨͎̳͈̫͚͚͙̺̻͊̌̄́͋͒̑̓ͭ͆ͮ̊̋ͫͧ̓̚̚͜͝­̝͖͔̟̣eͫ͒͒ͪͨ̋̌̈́҉̴͕͔͍͎̺̲̘̯̥̖̦͍͚̼͉͖̱̫͟ ̡ͤͣ̉ͥ̊̿̓ͤ͛̈͒͋̆͋̓̇͒̂̂҉̡̤̱͔̭̞̰̪̻̥̼̜͓̮̱̲̹͟ͅc̘̺͍̰͔̯̣̤̠̝̥͔͙̱̞͗ͣ̓̂͗ͩͩ̀̀­̺͓̘a͖̘̼͔̹̦̼̞̪̼̫͇͓̫̠̔̿̒͐͆ͨ̅ͧ͆ͨ̎͐̓͝͞͡ͅẗ̵̨̝̠͖̗̯̲̥́̽ͬ̊ͥ͒́͐ͫ̅͒͌̆̃̓̎̚̚h­̅̄ͬ̃̊́ͮͤ̐̓҉̬̗̦̟͎͓͓̀ę̨̘̺͔͚̻̬̺͚̥̥̣̹̘̄̎̎̌́͟͡d̨̛̠͈͇̦͓̽ͧ͒̑ͬͧͩ̿ͫ̑ͮ̆̋͒͌­̳̙̤̙ŕ̴̛̘̺̙̫̠̜͎͈̤̤̝̬̱͙͈̟͕̆̈́ͣ͛͒̾̔͋̀̓̽ͯ̒͞a̶̧̙͔̹͈͎̼̲ͬ̏ͦ́ͭ̂̏ͦ̄̎́̓̊ͯ͛ͩ­̳̙̭̘̞̫̱l̷̴̼̗̣͇̠̖͙̼̳̳̟̗̿̈́͋̋̄ͧ̓͞͞ ̨̢̝͕͙̮͙̄̿ͥ̒ͥͧ̔̕͠͠i̷̶̢͓͙͉͍̻͚̩͍͎͎̺̫̹͓̘ͧͬͩ̏ͧ͜ṅ̷̞̰̤ͥ̔̿ͫ̉̀̀ͪ̿̔͐̈́̔͋̄̄̚­̝͇͇ ̵̧̞̤̭̻́̈́͐͛̅̈ͦ̂̿͆͢͢͢ẘ̫̜̣̺̜̟ͣ͛͢ͅḫ̛̙̪̦̺̩̘̪̈́͛̎̄̃̀͢͝i̸ͤ̌ͫ͂͐̇̐̃ͣ̀ͪͫ͜­͏͇͕̻̝͔̯̲̘̝͢ç̵̢͈͓͎̘̹̺̱̯̥̹͙̼̳̄̽͊ͩ̅ͭ̎ͭͯͤ͗͜ḩ̝͖̥̪͙̗̖͓̦̌̑̓̅̑ͨ̊͊͒̕̕͢͞ͅ­̲̭̩̻ ̛̆̉͑̋́ͭ̓̃̃̄̾͊ͨ̒ͪͭ̈́͛̓͏͏͏̨̝̦͓̞͔͎̼̣͈̺̙̣i̷̥̯̣̞͖̤͙̪̩͕ͯ͒̍̀̀͜͠t͊ͬ̊͆͂͋̀̒͝­̛͙̞̜̜̠̙̞̰̭̜͕̣̹̺̣͢ͅ ̴̨̳̱͍̭͎̳̇̅̑̽̄͋ẃ̨͑̊̓̋ͤ̈́̄̊͗ͤ̅̿̌ͩ͛̔̀̀͝͞҉͙̖͖̫̭̱̦͉̘̤͈̦͉̘i̛̻̥͉͆̃̃ͣ̓́͝͠­̥̝̹̫̥̟̱̗̙̞̗̺͎̥͉̩l̶̢̯̙̘͖͑ͯ̋̂̇̈́ḻ̷̢͎̰̠͇̗̤̳͉͇̲͖̺̋͌̆͂͡ ̒ͨͥ͆̿͌͊̽ͮ̾҉̴̱̹̣̪̲̠̫̫̭̰̟͍̀͘t̷̝̼͚̫̣̦͚͒ͦͧ̎͐ͬ͠ąͣ̅̽̄̊͛͂͗̆̒҉̸̘͉̝̰̪̝̻̣͡­̻̝̲̯̞͙ͅk̵̪̼̻͖̻̜̟̫̝͈̠ͮ̾̉͊̓ͪ̊̚ͅe̵̴̸̻̘̜͔̯̙̭̥̓̔͋̑̍̾ͯͫ̇̚ ̺̬̮̦̺͚̭̝ͤ̓̐̅ͬ̄̐ͩ̀͢p̸̛ͪ̓ͣͥ̌͏̢͎̲̣̝̟̩̯͈̭͕̦̪ͅl̴̡͔̾̊̄͛͒̊̔̋ͧ̅ͮ̍ͨͥ͑̅̚̚͢͜­͖͕̻͙a̷̓͆ͭ̓͋͌ͬ̄́̅̐͊͡͏̪͚̬̮̖̙̬̱̩͓͍̝̠͚̫ͅc̯̟̜͇̗͙̠͈ͯ̓̄͋̿͐́̒͛ͫͮ͒̆̄͒̃ͦ̀ͅe­̸̢̨̮͔͉̙̰̝͈̞̤̠͔̘̙̲ͬͭ̄͗ͧͧ͒͌͘ͅ ̈̊ͣ̏̅̓̄́̄̐ͪ͗̊̈́̎̇́̀̚͠҉̼͈̗̝͖̖̺w̸̡͉̭̳̫̭̭̞̟͇̯̤̰̯̭͎͓̾̇ͩ͋̈͛ͧ̓̐̀ͫ̑ĩͦ͒̔̂­̶̧̛̞̜̙̞͖̙̙̻̗͙̦͎̘̫̼̄̚͘l̛̫̝͉̺̲̤ͧ̐̎́l̗͈͎͙̒̾̑̊ͫ́̀̀́̚̚ ̷̵̨̡̖̮͖͕͖̲̳̬̼̜̬͖̝̻̭͓̯́́̀̅ͥ̏͗̑̌ͨ̅̉̍̓͒͗ͫ̓̚n̨͔̱̟͖̹̙͉̖̦̳̾̂ͧͨ́͗ͤ̇ͯ̈̒̾́­͓͕̟̙͍͚̺ơ̘͕̱͇̻͈̙̩̟͉̱̥͉͙̳̑̍̋̎ͥͮͨͤͦ̈́͛͋ͭ̂̏͜͢ͅt̡̽̏̇ͩ̌͋̃̿͂ͣ͠҉͖̙̥̙͈̬͇͢͝­̯̻̠̪͉̤̯ ͒̓ͬ̈̿ͬ͋͋͂̇̃͑͡҉̺͍͙͔͎̜̖͍̣͈̳̞͜ḅ͕̝̤̦̼͍̺͔͔̻̥͚͌͌ͮ̐̀͋̅ͥͥͧ̆̑ͦ͊̑ͣ̍ͯ́̚͡ͅë́­̫̙͈̺̪̼͓̜̭̯̦̪̟̣̦ͯ̐ͨ̄̇̏̂̌͠͞ ͨͬ͌̃ͥ̅̎ͯͤ̏ͬ̿͏̨̪̘̭͕̹͖̬͙o̊͊̑͐̿̃̊ͪ͆̂̑ͪ̂̍̚҉̸̥̙͇̩̯̪̞̩̬̩̹̘̹̲̮̞̜ͅf͌͗̊͂̌̒­̙̮̱̝̩͔̱̝̺̮̹̳̬͙͈̅͐ͬ͐̎͆ͦ͊̈́͟͡ ͚̻̤̤̟͕͖̤͙̰̠̞̯̦̤ͥ͌ͯ͑̈́̋̊ͬ͟͜͠o̷͖̠̥̤͉̥̰̿̓̒ͣ̌̽̅̄͊̅̓͊̐ͤͮ́͝n̈̈̈͑͂̇̓ͮͯ͌ͩ̾­̷̡̛̤̻̻͙̬̹̦̖̩̱̕e̷̢̱̯̫̺̜̰͕̞̥̥ͥ̍͑ͮ͗̀̔̾ͧ̏͆̌̈́͊̆͑͐͠ ̵̵̨͉̻̹͎̺͓͔̬͖̯̙́̿ͭͫ͌̓͂ͩ̓͂ͧ̾̄̇̽ͩ̚͜͢s̷̎ͪͮͫ̽ͨ̋̿̔͘҉҉̩̯͙̹̝̖͔̖̤͇̹͟iͫ̂̉̃͑­̴̰͈̟̮̱̤̲̣̲̗̬̦͕̘̬̒̔̿̏̀̊͐̔̆̽ͪ́̚n̢̲̘̼̝̬͚̯̻̱̝̤͉̙͉̟̤͎̫͐͐ͧ̅ͤ̔̓̃ͨ̃ͪͧͪ̽͝g­̜̤͚͇̲̦̞̭͚̼̺̝̩͉̬͍̭̣̏̌̓ͧ̋͂̆̄͛͗͐̇̄ͦͥ̓͊̾̚͞͞͞l̑̏̇ͤ̿̊̑̆ͣͬͩ͊́ͭ̒̌ͨ͂ͪ͘҉̧̦͖­̞͙͚̰͖͖̳̝̱͈͓̟ë̐ͥ̂̈͋̀̽̈́ͭ͆͛͑̽̚҉̴͍̬̣̩̟͕̭̱͜ͅ ̶̨͈̖̪̲̦͔̦̜̥͉̯̝͂̿̇̊̽̎̓̏ͅt̨̰̳̠̻̲̘̥̞̙̙̳ͦͧ̓͆̀̋̈́͜͠y̾ͮ̓̾́̎͒̓̅ͫ͟҉̧̘͔̟͍̩͡­̫̲̺̲͈̤̪̘͚̤p̷͇͇̞̻̝͕̻̼̻̣̻̼̜̲̗̗̆̉̊̾̒ͦͪͪ̍̈͐͗̄̽ͫ͑͋̚̕͜͞eͧ̍ͩ͒ͤ̄ͩ̔͆̇͌̆́͏̀­̷̞̬̘̠͙̘̬̬̬̦͔̩̻ ̸̨̛̺̝͚͇̮͓̪̖͙̈ͣ͐̆̽̓̀ͧ̀̚͘o̸̮͙͚̭̠̻̦͙͓̳̯̻̲̰̓̎̄̊ͪ̃͊̎͞ͅf̷̧̨̻ͫ͑̐͊ͯ̎̇̿͊̈́͘­̝͎̱̱̩ ̿̔̾̐̏͊͛̿̆̃͂̉̊͊͊͑͏̬̞̘̠̝̙̮̝̯̺͘͜ͅsͭ͊ͧ̈ͭ̇̾ͫ͋͂̓҉̞̞͇̝̬͈̥̠̻̲̭̤̭̠͈͕̖͘͠ͅt͑­̷̭͇̠̯͖̠̱͖͐̄̉͑̍͜͞͠ỏ̡̠̰̖̻̘̺̱̞̦̥̪͚̼̟̟̗̣ͣͤͣͦ̑ͫͪ̐̌͛͞͡nͧ̀́́ͫ̌ͦ͋ͮ͂͗̾ͤ͐̚­̴̄҉̺͎̞̗̻̞̩̬͙̠͎͈͉̭͘e̔ͭ̊̈̓͏̧̟̮̮̹̬̻͍͓͡ ͮͯͫ̑ͦ͗̿҉̧̤͚̙̯̬́̕b̵̶̺̫̟͙͍̙͙͖̺̟̠͈̙̹͙̥̬̿̎̿̇ͬ͒ͦ̆̑͘u̧͓͚ͤͤ̂͛́̆̋̍ͦ̈͂ͪ͛̚͢­͙͖̖ţ̷̵̵̼͉͕͎͎͔ͬͪ̊͋̄ͦ̂̎̿ ̴̢̩̪̟͚̻͙̼̀ͥ͛̒ͣ͞ͅwͦ̈́̓͛̊̎́ͤ̆҉̸̧̡̥̯̩̲̦̣̼̳͙̼̬̺̯͕̟̲ͅi̷̙̗͕̬͒ͩͫ͆̃͐̚͞l̂͆̚­̳̫̺͈̲̲ͤͬ͒̽̃̈́̿̍̕͟ͅl͖̞͕̹̠͓͚͈̙̥̞̻̠̥͎ͪ̓̌̾ͭ͑̓͛̇͊ͮ̎͌̿͝͝ ͯ̇ͯ̑̀ͥ̒̽͑̀̍̂́҉͇̠̱̠̤͖͟͢c̸̅͆̅̄ͩ̍̐̇ͩ̍͗̌̊͏̕҉̷͚̖̻̪̤̝͇̥̬͕ȍ͑ͮ̋̈́̆̽̈̑ͥ̂̅̽­ͧͫ͆ͣ͏̢͉̰͈̭̫̻͇̹͉̬̻̟̯͕ͅn̸̥̤̳̗͓͈̦͋͐͊̌̓ͯ͌̏͆ͫ̃̓̿ͫ̀͘͟͡ͅt̷̶ͬ̑̂̈́ͩ̌̓̍̒̓́̿͑­̝̲̺̲̪͙͍͕̫͇i̫̞̫̪̝͍͗̿̐̇͑ͭ̏ͨ̆ͧ̌̆̾̅ͨ̂ͤͨ͐̀͟n̷͂͋̆͒́̎ͮ̓ͮ̐̈̓ͮ̿̈̂̋̕͠҉̤̠̲͇͙­̲̙̙̦̳̭ũ̉ͪ͂̄ͪͫͣ̐͞͏̞̦̹͖̩̞a̵̦͓̦͍̝͎̟͔̻͙͖̹̻͖͕ͯͣ͐̄͘ͅl̸̛ͤͧ̏͋ͮ̃̾̅ͦͭ͂͑̈́̀͘­̝͓̼͕̥̺̩̪l̵̷̨͉̝̬͍̞͍̥̺̐̇ͫ̑̈͒̎ͣͥ̀͂̈̀̆͋̃͠y̶̳̗̦̥̋̋̈̾̍ͦ̓̈͗͐͋͐̄̌͊͋̌̆ͮ͘͜͞­͍̞ ̴̄͛͂̌̓̾̇ͣ͢҉͓͚̱̙̜̟̦̹̦͉̻̟͎̘̯͓̣͓͠ç̞̜̱̭͙̫͗̓̃̒ͨ̎̅͂̉ͪ́̒͋ͨ́̚̕h͑ͪ̾͋ͭ̉ͬ̏͊­͍̦̳̪̯͍̼̫̗͕̫͓̭̱̳̜͑̆̆͟͡ͅa̸̧̡̜̩̹͇̪̳̯̳̠̪͎̱̻̠̜̳̞̖̍̆̎ͮͨͪ͐ͬǹ̶̢̨ͦ͋̋́͑͑́̕­͙̘͖̬͓̣gͭͫ͊҉͢҉͚̞͈̭͖̰͚̬̪ę̴̵̴̫̖̮̖̠̫̥̼̝̺̖͋̾ͦͭ͜ͅ ̷̭̜̜̰͑̈ͤ́͋́ͭ͛̍̄̓ͨ͗̃ͬ̓̒̔ͯ̀w̵̢̝͇͖͎̼̺̹̬͓̻͉̣͛͛͒ͨͣͩ̈́͂̋̽ͫ̅ͨ͝ĩ̂ͦͭ̐ͬ͏̷̨ͅ­̖̝͔͉̫̱͚̘̲̠̝ͅt͙̤̻̭̤̊ͬ̓͒̂̈́ͮ̈̏͌̿͛̂́͟h̩̥͙̘͉͓̖͔̤̣͉͍̟̣͍͒ͨ̆ͨ̍̊̓̃̌̽̃͆̃ͨ̚͢­͔͇̟ ̂̾ͥ͗ͩ̑͊̍̅̈́͊ͬ͒͋̂́ͬ҉̸̡̺̻̜̝̝̰͍̝̱̫͜t̵̛̜̬̠͓̹̐ͬ̆̀ͦ̀̐ͩ̔̎̃ͥͬ͆ͮ̑͑̀̚h͆ͭ͂ͥ̀̄­̷̧̼̫̘̩̱̼̞̫ͨ͆̎͛̄͂̒̏ͦ̀̋́ͅͅȩ̪̜̫͚̤̥̹͇̻̬̰̟ͬ́̓̉̃̐̔ͨ̃̑ͦ̏̚̚͢͞ ̷̡͓̱̙̪̗̫̪̫̺̹͚̥̣̆̅̽̓̍͠͡ͅă̧̢͓͚̯͚̫͖̹̳̙̞̓ͮ̏̋̍̑̿͒ͨt͑̇̄͋̄̄ͭ̂̓ͪ̔̚͏͘͝͏̮̱­̙̜̥̣̟͕̦͇͔͎̦̻̫͉͔̼m̶͔̻̖͎͖̟̼ͭͨ̒ͮ́̿̊ͥͭͩ̈́̃ͩ̾͘ͅoͪ̓͗̔͐̒̃͋҉̸̯͖̼̲̞͍̗̬̣̱̝̞͔­̦š̃̌͊ͣ͒̉̅ͮ͐̋͌ͭ͋̚҉̛͖̖̰̼̗̞͉̫͍͚̼̮͎̥͕̜̲͘͠p̶̴̠͚͉̲̜̳̻̒̌͂̒͜͜h͛̇ͣ̄ͭ̿͗̒̎ͯ­̡͚͔̭̩̮͔͕̣͎͕͕͈̺̣͆̏̌̔ͩͦ̅͊ͨ͞͞ͅȩ̼̭̭̤̙͇̳̹͍ͦͦͪ͐̑͢ͅr̴̡̢̻͇̦̫͙̻̓͛̎ͯͧ̑̑̓͆͋­͍͍̪͔̠̙̬͖e̸̴̯͙̯ͪ̅̆͆ͬ̾͐̐̆̂̕͟ͅ ̶̵̢͇̫͓͎̫̘̹̩̘̜̜̬͕ͪ͑̊͒̎ͫ͗̃͜͠ͅa̛̱̩͇͈͔͖͔͚͋̅̉͑ͦͥ͗̆̓̂̀̚͝n̆͒ͤͦͯ̒ͫ̉̍̾ͯͮͩ͒­̡̖̟͔̦̟̦͓͚̣̺̯̝͖̜͙͕́̐̊ͥ́͟͟͝ͅd̾ͬ̈́ͫ̏̂͛ͩ̃̓̃ͣ͏̟͎̗͎͓̪̤̠͎̟͙̞͖̙̦͉̝͚̠͘ ̷̛͍̩͎͍̹̫̲̬͍̳͗͌ͮ̈͐̑m̵̦͈̯̣̦̫̘ͮ̓̌ͭ̊̒ͭ̾͗͌̍͛̔͘͞ǒ̷̡̜̳͈̝̯͔̠̙̰͕̭̤̰̆̐̈́ͧ́͞­̬͍ͅţ̳̼̳̮͉̙͈̰̝̤̫̦̭̝͈̼̯ͧ̀ͦͣ̾̑ͬͣ͊̓͑̎ͭ̂̌ͮ̈́̌́͢͠i̛̹͍̟̣͕̫̝̬̺͍̔ͫ̂̈́͐ͮ̂͘͘͝­ȯ̸̸̢̝̪̩͎͖̭͍̝̺̟͙̖̖ͦ̀́͋͂̔̉͛͌͆ͥͭ͐̍̎͡ͅn̐͊͊̈́̽͑̌͂̃ͯ҉̼̥̺͚͉͔̰͓̮͔͓̙̜̙̕͟͡͞­̼̤̼̯̳ ̸͗ͫ̑͂̈̔͐͐͑̉͑̒̏̀͏̹̭͇͈̜͟o̸̧̢̳̘͖̭͗ͦͧ̓̐ͪ̓̌̚͟͞f̹̫̠̜̺̰̎ͫ̅̒ͫ̿ͯ̒̈ͨ̑̅̿̀͘ ̨͊̀̉̓͛͛̍̓̈́͒҉͠҉̲̳͉̩͙͚̤̱͠ͅẗ̅͐̓͛ͭ̏̒̃̊̿̾̓ͪ̄ͯ̑ͬ̀͏̷̷̱̦͈̥̼̦̖̼̝̙́h̐̀͑͊ͯͨ­̴͓̳̳̱͓̬̖̬̮̮͚̙̲̐e̎̇̈́̃̓̒͊̈́ͬ͒̓̚̚͠͏̶̰̦͇̘͎̞͍ ̧̡͖̭̥̜̳̠̘̘̗̱̥̭̟̰̼̹̄̒ͧ͆̐͋̾͋̽̈ͥ̇ͯ̾̾̅͘͡M̐͑̃̋̔͋͊̈́͠͏̭̦͎̲̪̙͖̖̞͖͚̬̬̹͖̼ͅy­̴̢̜̟͖̣͙̦̟͈̟ͪ͗ͭ̊͒͛̅ͮͦ̈̈́̚͢s̶̛̠̥͉̬ͬ͋̿̄ͬ̓̃ͨ͊̕ͅt̴̶̹̤̳͇ͯ͛̊͆̐͑̓̄̌̌̏͗ͮ̐e͑­̡̠̹̩̤͖̟̦͎͙ͯ̆́ͤͭ̇̑́́͠r̵̡̝̬͙͓͙̬̣̾́̑͋̓̆̿̎͊̽̀͘͢i̗̹͎̊͒̂ͫ̈ͬ̃̆͛̂ͫ͒̒ͬ́̕͢͡­͚u̡͓͉͎͇̹͖̝̻̯̗̫̽ͤ̓ͮͬ̀ͨͪ̊̅̓̎̊̿̄̿̎ͦ͢m̛̼̰̹̰̜͔͈͎̣͇̣̭̗̄̎̽͜.̢͒̔̈́̒̊͌̋ͣͫͪ́­̟͎̲̘̺͓̪̯̮̥́͝ ̶̗̜̮̱͖̰̫̬̽͊͊̐ͭͮ̓̓͑̓̾͞ ̝͔̜͚̲̝̝̗̪̽ͦ̏͢T̼̻̣̺ͩͫ͛ͩͯͪ̓̑̂̍ͪ͆͆́ͧ̊͋́̀́͢h̨̛̼͓̟̱͔̃̍͌̿͛͐͂̎̀̓̽͆̄͗̚͝iͪ­ͬ̏ͧͨ͠͏̱̻̘͎̟̳̱̱͔͚̖͞s̨͎̰̰̱̙̙̫̺̭̯̗̹͖͔̗͎͍ͫ̊̑̅́ͧͨ͋ͦ͊̉̈́͑ͨ̍ͥ̀͡͝ͅ ̿ͧ́͛̐̑̂͑ͥ̃҉̨̦̮̠͖͈̣͙̣̜̼͇͚̯͉̘̞̼̥w̶̵̤̼̭͕̖͓̯̻̪̐͌̓ͣ̐̏̿͞iͨ͆̾ͧͮͬͮ̔̒̓ͩͧͧ̀­̝̩̺̺̦͍̜͙̞͔̪̠̲̜͇̦̝̤͢l̛̝͎̺͕̟͎ͩ̎́̈́ͨͣ͌ͪ̿̎̄͒ͣ̓ͮͫͧ́͘͟͠ͅl̇̾̊͐̌ͤ̌ͯ̄̅̋̅͏҉̰­̘̰̯͉̗͕̥ͅͅ ̵̜̗̻͖̩̤̥̩̄̆͆̑̿̈̀̆ͧͫ́͡b̢̙̜͉̜̪̖̱̰͔͛͗͛̋̃ͥ̔̓͞ͅȇ̵̏ͮ͗̎̆ͯ̍ͮ̾̆̚҉̨͏̛̲̳̫̗ ̛̲̞͙̜͚̖̻̫̗̝̭̟̗͖͎̬̟͇̥̈́ͣ̊̔͊͌͢d̥̤̝̹̱̙̝̰̮̭̤͎̄̋̆̾̂̇̓̍͊̒̂̃̕̕o̓̾̇̔ͤ͑͒̆̈́̔­̶̟͇̖͉͛̿̅ͬ́͝n̵̨̋̌̉ͩ̚͟͞͏̝̯͈͖̮̙̫͖̤e̵̸̡̟̹̤̗̮̱͕̪̝̖͙̮ͩͤͪͩ̃̅̔ͣ͊̌̽̆͟͡ ̬͖̰̠͉͔̩̼̰̳̔ͬͥ̉͐͛̆͟͡͝ͅw̡̳͇͓̫̯̖͙̞̽̆ͧ̾̓̆̄͗̏̊̆͌̅̂́̚i̶̡͈̹͙̯̣̅͑̓͑̉͂̎́͗͐­̪̘͙ţ͓̲͙̭̰͈͇̲̫̲̹͓̳̼̠̙͓̗ͦͬͬ̓ͬ̓̐̐̄ͦ͒̓͟͡ͅh̨̛͈͕̲̲͍ͦ̐̋ͮ̒ͣͭͮ̈́̽̚͢͡ ̨̡̛̹̙̱͉͍͉̮̘͍̞̖̝̱̹̣̥͕ͦ̀ͩ͌ͧ̑̐ͨ̏͛̓ͬ̒̋̓́͞ṫ̛͛ͭ͞͏̢̘͚̗̟͔̖͙̘̭͎h͑̀̆̈́ͮ̉̈́ͤͮ­̸̱̼͓̼̦̝̩̪̪̰́͘͟͝ͅè̢͚̠͈̱̰̈́ͮͮͫ͌ͤ̽͐̌̌͗ͮͦ̈ ̧͖̺̠̼ͮͬ͛̃ͅa̶͖̘̜̝̺̹̤͕̺̯̯͈̰̟͓̲̱̺̮̒ͧͯͮ̂̐͋͂̉͆̂͋̈́̿͗̇ͮ́͡͞͡i̡̨̝̱̿̊̿͒ͬͦ͂͝­̼̟̪̳̱̰̝̗͍͇̙̻̺͖̪d̵̵̢̛͇̦͖̱̖̹̝̋͗̋̓̍̄ͪ̾̚͝ͅͅͅ ͓̝̞͖͕ͬͬͫ̍̕͡o̢̺̯̲̺̲͇̮͖̪͓͇̳͉͌̾ͥ͗̕̕͝f̧̢ͦ̍̂ͪ̏̍̄̐̔͏͏͔̞̥͕͎͡ ̅̒́͋̍̅ͭͮ͑̔̂̒ͤ̄ͨͥͩ̽̌҉̷̢̢͇͓̲̼̲̦͇̝̖̲̣͓͉͖̰̝ͅͅm̛̯͔͕̣̫̘̙̰͎̊̈́̒̄ͣ́̽̎͐̿ͣ̏͜­̞͍̦̭̼͓i̷̢̘͎̝͉͇̲̝͙̞̱̋ͫ͋̑̔ͭ̾̒ͨ͑ͧ͐ͩ̐̊̾̓̚s͐ͤ̀̿́̉̈́̀̚͝҉͓͔̳̞̰t̍̆͂̍ͧ̈́̿ͮ̋ͧ­̸̢̥̼͎̺͇͖͎̫͆̂̂̋́̎̍́̕͢sͤ͗̑ͩ̆̽҉̨͙͖͕̩͜͝͡ ̶͉͈͚̬͆̆̀ͭ̐̈͗ͣͯ̿ͭ̀͂̿̏͊̊̚͟͢͢͡a̶̷̷̢͖̟̣̹̳̠̺͙̮̺̬̪͒ͪ̍̿ͩ̆̈́ͤ̈́͌͐͋͑̐̚͞n͑̏̆͛­̸͕͕͖͙̩͎̠͢d̷̷̷̗̟̜̲̣̗͇̙̟̫̯͖͕̓̈̉͊̈́ͦ̂̒̈ͣͨ͊͒̂̚͠ ̴̬̬͚̫̣ͨ̂ͯ̈̆͋ͬ͑̈͛̏̐͑̍̾̓͜l̵̠̠̩̬̹̺̩̓͛̑̓͟i͗̒̈́̆ͮ́͏̥̗̯͖͖̝͎̗̬̰͓͈̼̮͓͙͍̟̜g­̛͕̠̮̼̠͔̥̓̂̈̈́́̚͢h̴̡̧̻͇͚̮͗̓ͯ͆̋̑̂ͮͣ̇̀͢t̏ͧ̓̌ͦ̄̾ͣ͒͗̀͏̥̣̥̱͙̮͝ṡ͗̇̾̏ͭ͗ͣ͋­̡̼͍̞͈͍̼̻̗̲̟͉̘̦̙͕̘͚̱ͧ̾̾͞͞ͅ,̵̢͕͓̙̥̻̹͉̮̫̙̦͓̖̦̙̓͂͊̒ͪ̓ͫ͋́ ̵̶͓̯̣͎͈̦̫̦̝̗̞̺̬̇ͧ͌͊ͅͅͅw̑͋̈́̂ͪ̄͐҉̵͏̻̼̹̫̖̝̮̩̥͎̬̘̟̯̼̙h̵͋̑͗ͪͩͨ̀̈́̾͛ͩ̕͡͝­͍̭̞͇͓̬̣̺͙͉̼̫͙̱͙iͤ̓̽ͩ̅̅ͥ̈́̐̆͌͒ͤ҉̪̮̙͕̙̼͎͇͘͜͞ć̈͋̂̓̇̈̔̓̓͒͑ͪͣ̃́̓ͫ҉̯͘͢͡­̤͚̣̩̮̮̝̞͕͓̱͔̤̙̲ͅh̼̱͙̙̲̜͔͎̖̅̓ͨ̏̋ͨ͛̊̋̏̀͠ ͬ͒̐̉̎̄̏͆҉̸͏̣̯̝͚̼̙̙̖̦̪̭͚͓̹̺͘w̶̷̤̺̰͎̜̙͈̬͚̹̅͌ͥ̈̌̄̉̋̽̆̀̓́̚i̔̒́̑͑̈́̏͗͐̒­̷̷͔̣̖̗̲̻̉͋͌̔͟l̵̢͇̪͓̜͎̫͓̟͈̝̭̳̪͖̞̣̈́̔̂̋ͣ̇͐̊ͭ̐̆̆̇̆̎̚̚͝ͅͅl̀̓̊͑̇̓͛ͨ̾ͭͤ͛­̷̨͕̘̖̟͖̖̟̭̦͡ͅ ̴̴̙̩͙̣̞͎̥̺͍̙̉̌͛ͤͧ̓͊ͭ̊͗ͣ̆͝͝ͅm̷ͬ͆̆̓ͨ̋ͤ͒ͨ͞͏̢͙̰̰͇̣̦̳̞̰̭̭̣͓͡ó̽̉̃̈́̏̄̇ͨ­̨̰̜͉̼͎̰͎̞̺̦̙̬̰̭ͤͣ̽̈́͆ͩ́͡͡ḓ̶̵̡͕̥͙͍͍̜͎̤̖̹̹̦̩̺̇̅̋ͭ͠͞į͉͙̫̣̞̊ͫͨ̿ͪͣ̾ͩ͢­͈̬̱̬͕͔f̛͖͎͙̘̪̬̠̼̩̤͍̦̯̪̟̈ͭ͊̂̐̀̽̒ͥ̎ͦ͗̉͆͒ͭ́̚͠͡y̵ͫ̓͑͗̊ͧ͏̷͈̙͕̝̹̗̘̖̼̲̦͉­̻͖̺͖̠̲͕ ̡̉́ͬ̈̅͒̔̍͘͟͏͏̼̯̜̮̣͇̯̭̠͓̗ṱ̴̶̡̨̳͇̮͍͔̩ͥ̓̂ͯ͑̄̃ͧ̄h̨̦̰͚̺̤͚͍̘͓̗̼ͨ̊̊ͬ̎̕͟­̩͉e̶̢̖̲͉̝̬̥̊͗̀̅ͦ̋͆̌̃̎͟͝ ̛̑̅͆̈ͧ̏ͣͬ̃̒ͦ̒ͬͧ̚̚͜҉͓͙͕̭̻̀ḁ̧̛̯̖̯̦̺̿͂̄ͮ̊̅͂͑͒͆͊͒ͭ̊̂̕ŕ̮͕̱̝̩̘̘̉̌ͩͮ̀͜­̰̻̦̣̪̖̙͙̬ͅc̶̢̰͔̫̭͖̱͙̖͙̠̳͙̹̪̻̱̣̦̄̓͂̇͊̀̓̎̔́́h̐̑͐̍̃̅̍̆̇́͢͏̥̖̜̰̠̰͇̳͎̳­͇̮͚í͕͎̺̤̳̈͋ͤ͛̅ͩ̐ͨ̒͋́̇͗ͫ̕̕͜͝͞ͅt̶̴̃ͪͬ̆̈́ͮ͑͌͑ͯͣ͛̌ͫ͐̈͝͏̶̮͍̣̞͎̲̭̳͖̞͖̰̪­͎͕̥ę̴̥̫͍͙̤̬̻̒̑̌̍͋́͂͐͑c̨̡̣̻͈͈̳͚͍̱̦̫̣̱͙̮̐ͯ̽̒ͤ̋̃̀͘͝t̴͈̜̗͙͎̩̰̞̱͇ͫ͐ͮ̒­̜͙͉̫ȗ̸̢̙̻̭͕̺̗̦̹͕̩̮̮͍̳̘̥̺͑ͯͯͮ͒͜ṙ̰̘͈̮̟̼̻̺͈͚̱͖̤͓̣̟̎ͦ̔ͭ̈ͥͣ̅ͩ̓͊́aͦͫ͊­̢̂̉ͤͯ͊҉̢͓͓̮̩̹ḷ̷̶̢̭͖͔͕ͥ̎̊̾̽̄ͭ͆ͦ̅͋͋͝͞ ̵͈̻̝̣̩̗̭̱͚̲͎̥͌͂͋ͪ͘͘͠ͅc͋̆̍ͤ̿͊ͭ͆ͬ̌ͬͪ̉͌̃͒͛̕҉͍̼̝̼̫̮̤̻̰̬̼̣͍͎̺̻͘ŏ͒ͦ̇͐̎­̷̞͕̱̫̗̠̣̗̩̟̻̜̻̮̭̍̓ͩͯͤ̔ͣ̈́̿̾̚ͅͅn̢̫͓̪̼͈̯̳͎̼̫͍̺̤͇̞̮̪̋ͯ͛̑́t͊́̾͛̅̎̂̈́͂̍ͬ­ͨͦ̅ͪ̓ͦ͑͛͘͜͡҉͎͓̞̳̱̪̼͉̜̻̩̗ͅo̷̮̜͓̫̫͓̮͇͍̪̤̯͌̓͐̀̓ͤ̌̊͂̈́͆̉͂̌̎̔͟͢ȗ̂̊̚͏͡͠­̷̜͉̹̣͎̩̻̰̝͡ŗ̞̟͔͎̹̙ͮ̓ͬ̽͋̈̑͋͗̒̓͌͊̓ͩ̀ş̘̙̲͉̝̻̻͖͍̎̈̈̒ͫ̍̂ͪ̾́ͤͣ͒ͩ̓̈́́́͝­̣͉͉̥.̜̙̻̥̳̞̩͙̳͗̊͊͆̉͂̑ͥ̌ͦ͂͗͆̐ͯ́̀͘͠"̷̴͕̞͎̲̖̟̪̟͇̬̠̩͙͔̰̺̠ͯͫ̉ͨ̾͌͘͘͡ ͇̞̘̱̻͖͔̞̪͈̺̀͐̓̽͐̒̾ͧ̏̄ͣ͢͠ͅ ̸̷͓̻̩͔̙̙̺̠͇̬̦̥̬̩ͥ͊ͪ͘͝͝S̵̛͎̟̙͕͎̗̠̪͇ͭ̀̀̚č̨̤̮̥̻̰̟̝̯̼͕̗̬̹̎̊̿͋̾͒͐́̕͝ͅ­̺͕͕r̴̢͈̘̰̤̰͍͓̟̼̍̌̓̎̉̽́ͮͮ͋ͣ̾͌͗ͣ́͟͠ĭ̷ͩ͒̈̑̐ͫ͒ͧ͗͌ͣ͆̀̆̃ͪ͏̨̘̯̞͈̤͖͔͉͉̦ͅ­̙͕̪͙̗͕͇̫ȁ̴̛͚̤̣̮͕̹̭̗̗͓̭̖̝̳̌͆͛̅ͮ͂̇̈́̉͛̑́ͦ͌ͦ͢͝ͅḅ̬͈̻̓ͮ̂̄̄̊ͮ̏̈̌ͣ̌͛̀̕̕­̤̘į͖̼̼͈͎̥̭̠̌̇̔͛̓̋́̆̐͂ͩ̉̚̚͜n̨̪̫̖̩̖͓̰̩̝̱̠̹̭̜̳̲ͪ̆̌ͪ͛͂̏ͥ̇͑̽ͨ̂̃̅ͤͮ̋̆͠­͚ ̏͗ͩͧ̎ͫ̊̍̿͋ͣ̍͏̫͈̲̙͇̜͈i̐̿̂̈̌̑̀͒͊͆ͥ̽ͯ͋̐̑̇̍͏҉̱͙̫̳̲̙͈̱̞n͙̯͈̳̗̈̊̓͋ͦ̽͘͠ͅ­̬̮̺̼t̶͆͆̊͗ͥ͌̈̀҉̶͉̳̞̣̝̯̖͎͡͠e̵̴̢͇͖͍̦̙͓̘̝̝̺͔̩̘̯̬̩̽́̐ͦ͠͡ͅn͆̉̃͋̅͒̽ͣ́̑ͤ­̫̬̪̤̖͉̼͍͍̦͕̳̲̟̪̼̼̓̂ͥ̀̉ͨ̀͘d̵̢̛̦͓͕̜̦͚͍̼̱̪̼̝͎̤̫̜̬̄ͫ̄ͦ̿͛͐͛̏̇̏͝ê̋ͣ̋ͯ̚­̸̻̳̩͓̼ͤ̄ͮ̃̈́ͮ̑̈́ͫ͂̚̚͘d͎͓̹͔̥ͥ̇͋͑̍̅ͯ́̍̔̄̈͊ͣ̌͡ ͛͊͌̏ͨͤ̀̍̊̚͏̧͎̙̫̠̰̤̦̮͉͚͍̯͘ͅt̷̷̨̖̖̣͓͈͔̰̬̙̰͈̤͍̰͎͆ͫ̉͐̊͛̏ͨ̆͑̿͆̈́ͣ̀͞ͅhͥ̂­̸̨̣̫̰̠̟̳̼̦̝̹̯̘͇͇̝̳͎͆ͦ̎͗̾̂̀̽̀̀̀eͧ̔ͬ̓̃ͫ̔ͪ͜͏̷̥̥͓̝̗̠͉̲̬̗̥̙͚͞͝ ̨̨̣͎͖̠̠̖̙̉ͩ̊ͤ̋͋̋͌ͤͣ͗͑̆ͨ͗͒ͨ̀͑̀́p̶̨̢̨̞̺̰͈̣̞̮̳̦̺̳͔̣̥̣̀ͭͬͨ͆̄͗̔ͭ͊̒ͦ̽̒͟­e̢̛͕̖͔̖̥̖̞̜̪̾ͣ͛͛ͦ̇͌ͣ̃̊̎̏ͮͧ̒̌ͩ̏͢r̵̈͆̓̈ͩ͑͊͌͐͏͔̬͓̞̱f̘̈́̐̅ͧ̌͗̇̒̋ͭͥ̄͒͢͝­͚̬̯͉͔̭͙͚͍̺̯̞ͅô̴̧̦͕̝̩̜̘̟͚͇͔̞͚͈͖̮̦̼̟͋̅͋͊ͫ͑ͧ̆́̐̀ͤ͡͠r̄ͥ̌̿͑̈́͌̉̂̍͛̈͑ͨͩ­͚̥̠̯̩͓͙̬̓ͫ̃͊͜m̢̞̘̺͎͍̭͔̭̪͖̟̥̼̤̖͇͙̈́̿̉̒̒͗̔ͫͦͤͫ̃̃̉͟͟͞aͨ̐̏ͥ̾ͭͯ̆̽͜͏̦̣̻̼­̫͓̙͓̟̥̫̰̠̩̟̣n̍̇͌ͣ̊̎̕͏̨͚̟̠̪̟̖̗͡c̴̥̦͍̫̪̺͔̿̐̐ͯ̒̽ͪ̓̾̚͢͡e̡̐ͮ̍̒͏̧̧̙̗͈̪̜­͔̙̥͉̖̙̮̤̬ ͥ̅̌͆́̐͗ͭ̾ͩ̃͆̚͏̢̖̣̟̺̣̘̪̩̠̦̝̳̞̞̙ẗ̒̔ͭ̀͏̸̛͚͖̦̜̟̬o̿̀͐͛̓͗̀̋̃̀̀̌͑̈̔̅ͯ͢҉­̥̫̣̺̲̮͉̣̦͓̯ ̷ͦ͌̈̀̇̉͌̄̈ͫ̔͋̂͊̇̄͆̄͞͏̵̞͙̗̞͚̳̭͚̫͙͓̜̘̥͟b̵̡̠̦̟̻͕͓̳͗̉̿ͨ͗̏̎ͬͯ̅̄ͮ͆͜͝eͨ̾­̷̶̼̗͖͕̬̫̝̬̱̭̫͔̬͉̝̺ͣ̂ͪͪͬ̄̄̒̊̓͊̚ ̸̴͚̦͕̳̮̯̦̩̻̼͔̖͙̬͚̗̈͑̽̐ͤ̌̑͒͋ͫ̾̓͌̈́͝ĭ̎̓ͣ̿ͪ́̐̽ͣ̎͋͢͠͏̢͉͎͇͚̲̬̘̦̖̙͎̻̻n­̖͎̣̜͓ͫ̾ͭ̓̾́͟͡ ͐̌͆ͤͥ́̄͊҉̡͜҉̙͉͈̭̟̫̳̭ṫ̛̂̈́́͏̹͎͚͖̹̮̣̪̙͓̳̝͈̻͠h̔̓́ͬͫͤ̋͊̎ͯ̔̉̌̇̈́̿͛̕҉̨̟͘­̦̯̯͎̯̠͕̟̬̞̟̣̰e̵̿͌̀̉ͧ͗̍͋̈ͫ͌ͥ̋ͭ̌̓̅͞͏̵̦̱̼̙̗͚̺̪̖̼̖ ̖͇͎̣̹̣̞͑̾ͬ̉ͪͦ͑́̎̉ͣ͝fͧ̎͑̇̆͏̴̴͏̛̟̩͈̖̜̪̼̟̲̩̫̗̜̭ò̏ͪ͗͊͏̹̳̪̻͙͎̻̥̲͉̹̀o̽­͊̓̈̎̂̽̄̿҉̷҉̟̻̼̞͕̦̣͈̹͖̖̘̪̫͈̻̀͝t̶̨ͭ̍̾ͭ̌ͥ̆̂ͧ̔̀͞҉̹̯͔͓̯̭̥̘̺̙̞̱̥͉̯ͅh̃̍̚­̱̘̮̜̟̥͋̈́͒̑̓̿̓ͩͨ̔̇̏̑̾̀̕̕į̵̸̛̮̭̗̼̬̉ͮ̿ͭ̉̽͆̿̉ͭ̌ͨ̚͟l̷̛̞͇̤̺̝͖͎̳̪̻̅̾ͬ͐͠­l̛̺̱͎͇̩̹̤̤̫̖̝̮̟͔̭̱ͯ͊́̑̋ͥ͊ͤ̔͐̀̊̎̏͌̀͡s̢͔̥͉̮̠̟ͦ̓ͯͣ̇ͫ ͇̮͉̫̻̠̥̬̦̺͓͙͉͎̯̜͈̝͈ͯͩͨͬ̐͂̇̃̑ͦ̊̽ͦͮ͊̎ͮ̀͘͜o̸̦̤͈̮̣͖̝̻͇̭͇̗͎̖͎͌̈́̋͒ͭ͜͡f̌­̸͖̘͚̦̙̖͔͕̮͙̩̜̱̺̯͈̅͗̃̎͆͐̅͑̌͋ͯ̀ ̢͊ͪͤͩ̈́ͨ̇ͤͦͤͦͥ̌̔̂͆҉̙͖͍̪̬͈̦̤̼t̶͓̰̜̳͔͔̱͈̰̦͛̿̅́̀̍ͮ̅ͮ͐̓̏̔̑̉̌͢͠hͨ̈̿͐ͤ̇̉­̯̯̜̤ͪ͆͗̽̆̇ͦ̓̉͗͟͢͟͜e̷̓͛̐ͦͩͬ͊̔̆ͯ̃͜͝͏̶̤̰̩͚̟͓̣ͅ ̸̧̟͎̮̜͎̜͈̤͔̮̲̭ͧͧ̌̊͆ͨ̀̀͟H̸ͨͮͦͯ͗̃ͭ͂ͮ͜҉͖̰̦͉i̦̝̯̙͖͚̙̱͑̓̓͌ͭ́̉ͭ͛͗̈́̋ͩ́͠ͅ­͖͔̯͙̘̫̥m̷͇̙̤̩̘̭͖̦͈̥ͮͦ̒̇̋ͮͯ̉̓̈́̇̎ͥ̍͊̀ͣ͌͞a̸̧̭̦̩͕̟ͤ̃ͨ̀ͭ͋͑ͦ͛ͬ̎ͧ̈ͦ͗͒̋͐͘­̗̯͙̳̟͔ͅl̘̘̯͈̪͎̭̫͚͍̹̖̗̍ͮͤͦ̿̈ͭ̍̿̒̕͜͝ͅa̶̴̭̳̺̥͓̔̓ͣ̇ͦ̋̚̚͡y̽̅ͧ̓ͭ̍̇̋͂̆̐ͬ­҉̷̡̛̤̱̪̲̹̝̞̺̮̬͎̦̮̟ͅa̛̞͉͔̖͉̯̺̙̼̭͓̙̘͍̳͈̔̒̽̋̑̊̏̉ͥ̊́̚͝͞ͅͅs̏ͩͫͩ̐̈̿͂ͦ̌̚­̷̵̫͚̫̟͍̒ͨ ̴̲͍̥̱̗̦̘̮̼̖̟͖̥̝̎͊̀̐ͧ͆͂ͯ̇ͩͨͥ͊́͢i̸̢̟͚̲͍̣̗̲̬͉͙̟̹͊͆͑̃̓́̇̉̑ͨ̿͒ͨ̈ͮͦ͂̆n̓­̧͎̭͕̙͇̱͚̜̥͔̳̟̼̦͎͇̥̦ͩ͊̄̇͂̿ͣ̐̊̏͌͗̍̂̓ͣ̍̌́͟ͅ ̗͍͔͖͕̼̜̬̬̭̥̖̟ͦ͗ͭ̂͂ͭͭ̅ͥ͗ͫ̓̂̏̀̚̕I̶̫̩͍̹̠̱̤̼̻̗͆ͦ̈̔́̑̾̿͌ͫͥͪ̊͜n͛ͧ̆͌̃̋̎̚­̸̷̣̱͖̩͔͕͕̤̬͕̤̣͉ͮ̃͒̔̃̄̌̚͢͟d̴̵̻̥̤̪̯̃̅̄̉͑̄͊̿̚i̴͕̫͌̌͂̓̅ͤ̈́̆ͪ̎̄͌̾͑̐ͨ̚̚͡­͍̘̼ͅä̴̛̯̫̙̝̞͍͓̰̘͔̩̪̞̖ͤͤ̔̀͢,̿̉́ͯͥ͆̏͂̑̏ͧ̇̊́ͦ͆̓͠҉̠͕̫̳͇͚͙̞̙̹̤͔͚͚̗͔̞ ̾̀̃̈́̓͒̐ͭ̀ͭ҉͏͖̗͖͇̮̦̦̣̱ͅậ̷̧̬̤̥̠̪͖̱̯̓̇͒͛͊̀ ̨̥̹̹̼̳̮̥͎̭̓̓̒ͨ̐͛́̈ͭ̌̚͜͝w̙̼̼̼̠̳̘̙̖͕͕̝͕̩̠͚̻̤ͥ̐ͣ̓̏͊̌͑ͭ̓̌͒̍ͪ́͡͡ȅͣ͐́͊­̷̋͏͙̗̮̥͇̱̪̯̩̼͔̩̪͙͘̕ͅe̶̷̜͎̟̹̻̠͉͎ͩ̋̌͊͐ͩ͌ͤ͗̀̂̊̒͐͡k̷̨̛̤̤̝ͨ͆̋ͫ͆͋͘-̃̈͆͒­̹̬̰̱͖͍̮̙̯̠̪̫͇̠̫̥̩͓̀̍́̀l̡̋̾ͬ̄͏̧̖̥̣̜̰̟̲͈̺̺̫̯̦͟ő̶ͪͯ̔̉͛̉͗ͮͧ̏̆̌͌̋̕͘̕͢­̻̼͕̰͍̯̩̝̞̗̯͕̲̺̰͉ǹ̓̊ͧ̓ͨ͗͋̾ͨͮ̓҉̷͎̦̺̜͎̥͍͙̯̹̥̟̤̼͓̹̙́͝gͨ̒̔ͨ͑̍̔ͯͭ̌̑̃͜͝­̢̳̪͖̺̠͖͎̦̕ ̴̢̭̠̣̳̻͔̣͎̜̪͚̔̄ͬ̀̉̄ͨ͌̌͆̇̒̆ͯ̓͆͒̂̍͢ȩ̴̰͙̜͚͖̳͓̟̻̞ͪ̒ͣ͂ͬͥ̈̀͞v̿̀̊̌͋̀̓̄͂­̶̨̦̪̖̱̟̬̳̻̼͙̫͚͍̱͚͚̼̻͔ͩ̕ȅ̸̵̛͖̺͉̭̅̇̃̏ͧͦ̆̑͋ͩ͘ͅn̡̢̢̲͔̳̰͓ͪͣ͗̋̑ͬ̈́̿̊̓͟͟­͔̻̥͕̠̻̰͓͚̙̙t̞̭͈̦͓̖̲̟̭̞̬̗̬̾͊ͣ͂̐̿̀ͬͦ͂͟͝ͅ ̴̧̭̗̞̬̟̩̦͙͍̞̗̮͕̼̗̼̯͊ͧͪͤ͗̄̉̑̍̿̋ͧͭ͛̐̓͑͝t̴̷͍̠̹̫̲̜̠̞͓͗̇͛̿͗̌͆͛̆̽̅̋̋ͭ̍͝­̮̖͉̬̣̣͈̥͖ḣ̛̈̆̓̿͒̊̒͋ͪ̔̾҉̶̘̝̟͔̩̰̟͍̫̭͉̜̼̙͉͜a̲̣̙̥̠̝̥̥̰̖̎ͩ̃̿ͨ̐̓̍ͩ̒ͭ̀͠­͈̦͉̘ͅt̷̢̙͇̳͓̙̗͚̯̭̯̮̹̤̝̘̙̳͌̓̉̎͂̀̕ ̷̷̧̛̬̻͔̩̯̮͉̖̙̹̫̺̰̙̞̉ͧͦ̇ͣ̐̆͆̊͒̆̿ͣ̚w̴̧̹̼̭̤̙͎̪̘̺̩̟̜͇̌̍̿͂ͫ̃ͨ̑͛͋̏̔͐́̚o­͍̪̲̗͚̖̹͎͍̹̣̱̝̥͉̝͆͗̈́̏͗̀̽ͣ̚͘͜͠ứ͕̫͚̠̠͕̯̺̋ͯ̄̌͗ͨ̒̄̈͑̃͠͡lͬͬ̓̈̈ͥͮ̓͑̎̓͊­͛ͯ̋̑̿͏̵̢̟͎̪̱̱̘̝̹̮̬̹̞͕͖͇̤d̷̸̠̮̬̝͇̦͕̭͍̭̮̘̭̙͛̃̌͑̐̓ͭ̄ͣ̄ͪͬ͗̆͒̂̽̕ ̶̡̨̡̠̦̩̫̦̮͓̠̝̘͇͎̮̫̯̜̻̞̃̑̊͛͂ͯͤ̐̓̑ͫ̀b̴̪̪͈̩̯̈́͐̓̅̓͆̕͡é̦̋̎̅͒̋̌̀́ͯ́͘͘͜­̹̭̠̪̻̭̪ ̛̟͎̮̬̞̰̗͚̼̞͍̠͎͙̼̽͗̋̆ͫ̆̐͌ͭͭ͊͛ͬ͌͊͢f̵ͮ͛͒͗̉͛ͣ̄ͤͭ͂ͫ̐́ͦ͞҉̯̳͙̳̥̪̠̟̫̪͘óͨ­̵̷͎̼̻̩͇̬̻͓͉̘̼̞̐͒̄̇̇̅̒͂́͘l̶̶̲̯̙̺̥͇͇̻͎̠̣̗͈͙ͧͤ͂̈͐͋ͧ̅̓̇̾͒̑͢͢l̈̉̏̄̔͐͋͢­̜̥͚̳̠̳͚̝̩̯̝͖̜o̷̡̫̣͖̙̯̺ͩ͆̅͐ͯͯ͛̌̆͗̒͆͆̐̇͛̀͝͡w̧͔͍͇̘̜̪̋̓͗͐ͭ̀͆̊̋̿͗̐͡e̐̈­̵̛̫̖̠̺͙̪̤̤͕͇͇͕̦͉̼͖ͧ̃ͬ̒̂͌̿̈́ͫͣ̾ͩͩ͊̌̌̕͢͜ͅḏ̺̭̺ͮ̀̍̄ͥͤ̀͗́ͨ̉̓͗̅̍̔̎ͪ̔̀̕ ͑ͭ͛̿̀ͧ͒̂͌́̀͝͏̰̠̜̙̪̦̼͚͎̪͎͎͍̩͙̭̬ͅͅḃ̷͇͎̻̜͔̉̍ͧ͆͒̇͌͋͑͊̀̚y̎͗̔̂̏̂͊ͧ̓̈́̓ͦ­̣͈̫̫̠͙͓̠͇̯ͦ̀̕͘ͅ ̋ͣ̏̆̂̌̽̏ͥͯͨ͌̏̔ͥ̈̂ͦ̕҉̴̮̜̟͓̦̥̲̪̖̭͉͞ͅţ̸̛̞̗̱̟͍̭̘͍̄̓̏͑̾ͩ̐̈́̈ͥ̄̕͢ͅh̓͐͆͒­̵̶̜̮̪̯̞͖ͬͨ̊̔̚̕͞͞e̸̸̹̲̥̩̥̫̩̺͓͔͉̿̓ͮ̈́ͥ́̏̀͆ͦ̇ͫ́ͤͬ̚͝ ̸̧̳̣̯̙͚͎̜͚̘̘̫̬̘̤̦͓̠ͮͤ̌ͦ̋ͩ̉͆ͨ́ͯ̏e̢͔̳͔͙̼̞̪̝̭̘̞̬̘͙͈ͦ̅͊ͣ̒͑ͭͫ̔̇͂̅̒̒ͪ͞͡­̫ņ̧̟̼̮̲̝͍̤͉̲͍̗̹́̓̋͆̇̉̌͛͂ͩ̂ḏ͉̬̱̗͈̼̹̲͙̤̜̰̠ͭ͛ͨͮͫ̋̿ͯ̽ͪͮͨ͐̉͗̊̉̌́̚ͅͅ ͬͪ̋̀̅ͫͧ̽̋͗͂̈̏ͮ̊͏̷̝̜̩͍̼̳̥̱͕̺͖̀ͅö̵̡̯̪̱̥͍̪̲̽͐ͤ̀͘̕ͅf̱̭̜͙̖̿̌̌̈́͑̆ͦ́͘ͅ ̟͔̳̬̳̩͙ͫͮ̽ͫ͑͊̅ͤ̀͟t̸̴̸̯̤̣̘̼͚͚͚̲̻̤͉̺̠̣̋͆͒ͥ͗̾͆͐̅̏̒̈́̚͟͞h̸̵̀ͭ̂̈͏͙̹̜͙̼̫­̳͕̤͉͇ͅe̵̔͑̒̐̅̓̓̿ͩ̓̂͗͌͏̯͉͈̖͙̳̪͖͔̖͖̹͉͇̕͘ ̨̯̳̣̻̮̞̝̺͚̩̫̗̪͖̫̫̹̼̑̀͆͛ͮ͑ͤͥ͆̎̂̽̅̿̂͆́̕w̓̔̽̒̔͏͙̜͚̩ǫ̤̜̣̺̭̥̃̓̉̍͗̕͘͢͞­͇̟r̒̋ͦ͌̈͒ͤͯ̃̉̀ͧ͂̀ͥ͑͏͎̦̜͖͉̼́l̻̦̳̞̱͍̰̣̥̜͙̘ͥ̃͂̔̾̅́̄͋̽͟ͅd̴̡̪̒̽̐̽͛̎̋̒ͫ­͎̬̩͙̥ ̡̧̰̲̫̖̲͚̮̘̜̥̩̜̳ͦͩ̓̊̒ͫͤ͛̀͝͡a̴̻͕̞̭̳̺̝̻̬͒ͬͨͬ̾́ͩ̚͢n̛̙̣̺̙̺͎͔̭̘̦͓ͫ̂̉dͦ͊­̨͇͔̰͉̗ͪͭ̉ͤ̌͑̏͋͘͘ ̛͙̯̮͖̩̱͓̜̘̙̞̖̺͈͕ͦ̆̄̋̊͢͠t̢̺̱͇̬͕̟̗̤͎͍́̇̐ͧ͒ͤ͟h͆̔͂̇̅ͫ̒͘͜҉͓̯̥̤͓̺̯͇̲̯̜̠­̩ễ̽̈́͑̔͋ͧͬ͊ͩ̍҉̧͎̰̱̱̹̮̯̼̬̝̳ ̧̛̪͙̱̩̥̹̱̤͕̬̻̜̼̮̗̠̜̣ͦ̽ͣͫ̆̾̍ͬ͡r̴̴̵̡̦̱̹͉͖̼̟̪͑̓ͮ͌̋ͥ̍ͯͧ̅̋̐̐̐̀͟e̔̑͌ͬ̎ͫ­̵̛͉̬̘͓̩̝͎̹̝̮̖̘̩̱͚͍̟̂̂̊ͯ̍̏͑ͤ̍͛͠pͫ̈́͒̋̅̉̊͂̆̀̄ͦ̓ͫ̑ͤ͆ͤ̔̀͞͏̣̩̯͇̦͙̜͕̤͚͇ͅ­̼͉͖̝͔̙͚l̷̛̤̬͇̺̼̰̄ͮ̊̃̓̾͒̔͘͟͞a̧̗̟̩̭̮̔̏̾ͮ̔̏ͨͬ̉̉ͬ̒̈́̈́ͪ̚̚̚͡ͅc̽̄ͧ͊͋́ͬͬ͂͊­̜̲̳̳̝̲̱̗̜̫͚̞̺͈̭̖̳ͯ̂̚͜ȩ̳͓̠̼̙͍͙ͧ͌̇ͦͩ͌̓ͮ̈̈́m̶̠͉̠̙̑̉̐̚͠e̐̋̔ͯ̾ͬͨ̊̽̇ͥ̏̓­̧̜̩̭̬̣͎̃̂̒̓̀̀͡n̘̘̗͓̘̱͖̟͇̺̱͓̞͇̫͙̘̆͗͂ͨ͌̐̿ͯ́́͟͞t̶̴͔̼͌̒̌̉͛ͣ̏̆ͭ̑͑ͧ̄͘̕͟­̝͓̲̥̲̹̝̫͕ ̶̷̛̼͕͍͕̙͍̯̥͇͕̯͕̭̊̿̒͊͐̾̾͡ơ̧̱̼͈̯̟͔͉̱̟̰͓̜ͨ͊ͤͥ͗́̆̓̽͛͂̎ͯ̋ͧ̊̒̀͢ͅfͧ͆̐͑̈­̷͖͈̱̱̣̰̙ͯͥ͛́̊ͧ̈̀͘͟ ̷̨͎͈̙͉̹̣͓̞̞̪̜͎̞͍̉͆͌ͭ͊͒͛̀͜ť̴̍̋ͨ̓̇̿̆͗͌ͬ҉̯͙͇̙̱̙̝̳̩̞͍̠̻̬͚͙͙̮h̊ͨ̓ͫ̎ͨͨ­̨̛̛͉̗͓̯̦̦ͬ̆̀͝e̵͍̭̙̜̜̙̰̫̪͈͊͐͑̕͢͡ ̷̡̨̲̠̹̦͇̠̳̤͓̻̠̭̠̰̩̪̻́͒̀̒̍ͬͮ͂́̅ͥ́͢h̡̢̩̝̠̲̠͓̹͕̉̋̓͊̊́̓̉̈͊̓͛͡͡űͥ̿͋ͧ̚­́̎̀ͧ̌̏̏̑͌ͤ͏͏̷҉̳͎͇̠̱͓͕̳̞̗̠̳̠͖m̟̹̯͈̣͉̭̫̯̩̘̥̫ͥ̿͑͛ͫ̏̈͋̊̉ͣ̾̽̑̀̚̕aͭ̊̽̎ͩ­̷̄̄̐̍͌̂̓̇҉̛̳͙̩̝̤̞̖̞̘͔̯̰͓͎̭̥̥͚n̸̴̢͖͕̻̤͖̰͑̈ͬ̌ͨ̌̄̈́͛̏ͧͥ͑̀́ ̷̷͕̭̺̰͙̺̗̞̦̇͒̑̎ͣ̚͝r̛̻̹̤̗̭̼͙̻̦̲̆̏͛͋ͮ͐ͣͨ͐͗́a̶̶̸̻̟͖̙͉̤̻͚̮̲̽ͬ̃̂͊̑ͯ͢c͆­̌̆ͮ͏̸͈̹̩̞͎̙͚̹͍̟̭ͅe̵͕͍͉̠͕ͩ̆̑̆ͮ̄́̇̅̀̃ͧ̒̇̊ͨ̃͗. Only the greatest of youwill see this.  If you are like me then you take the time to see this.  The secrets reveal themselves to the seekers of truth. So you must never give up the pursuit of self-mastery.  For this the only way to help others; Master thyself.  To master the self is to provide a clear reflection of the cosmos unto the all.  Poetry makes the many verses into one.  Learn to fold the reflected dimensions of your couplet through circumstance and you will be as unbreakable as the soul reciting the one verse.  Yin and Yang compose this cyclical turning of breath and being.
Polar Unity
1.3k · Apr 2016
Ash to Mouth
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
:Ignite
.ılılıll ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴡ llılılı
SToP:

Lemme seizure
perception

knowledge is a question
asked in reflection

yup, such a simple inception
but we all get caught up while we messin
learning earth's sacred lessons

What now though?

Identity//beheaded
Grey ghost, unleaded

got odds like Yudhistira so
we betted our :/:

ego:: we had to shed it
problem:: we known to  vet it
poison:: we GOTTA **** it
old skin:: WE SHED THAT TOO

Known to fold my body like oragami
quiet uprising you call call me ghandi
preach non-violence
practice samadhi

Principly Primal
powerful and bridal
*** in more dimensions
the many armed eater of time holding on like I'm ******* kali
wannabe-Ascetic, dreaded, wandering in the right line,
posture asuna-siva, like I'm ******* Kali, See time as convex

atman = brahman
means I'm God Complex

Every day set fire to myself like Sati
Go ash to mouth

and make myself rise
like a phoneix
https://soundcloud.com/skelicles/ash-to-mouth
POSSIBLE Apr 2021
Fall into the melody...
Fall away from the felony...


M̵̧̞̦̪̦͈̖̭̣̃̋͗̈̓́͆̓̈́͌̃̈́ͅḿ̵̢͖̟̩̱̯̦̮̜̘̮̰͎͈͊̿̒̔͐͛̔́̊͋͜ͅ­̠h̵̛͚̦̙̻̙͕̲͈̻̹̃̑͌̊͂͊̇̎̂̐͗̔̕̕̕͠h̵̡̳̹̼̯̙͔̞̯͕̽͑̈́͐͗̈́̀͗̀͒͐̓̚͘̕ͅm̶̟͗̀͐͝­͚͎̲͎̳̳̰̳̤̮ͅͅh̷̨͉̙͚̱͖͔͈͖̼̠̮̟͆̂͗͛͐̽̓̿͊̊̚̚͠͝ę̸̛̘̮̘͔̳̰̟̐͊̑̌̀̓̌̓̽̎̒͘̚­̨͎̯͎̭͎̝h̷̨̪̖͍͚̩̣̼͍̲̲̜̻͒͛̈͐ ̸̨̨̛͙͈̝̦͙̺̪̹̘̫͇͕̩̫͋̐̋̚͠m̵̨̛͔̰̹̬̯̦̥͇̰̺̖͔͆͛̐̆̋̈́͒̈̍̎͗͜h̸̡͇͍̫͈̔͆͗̇͛͜͝­h̵̢̥͇̼̟͙̗̪̺̹̖̞̾͑̈͑̓̍͛̂̍̋̌̚͜h̴̛͖͎̦̳̪͔̮͍̫̯̯̜̱̹̐͑̄̃̉̽̂͒̏͗͝ḩ̷̲̭͈̜͜͝ͅ­̮͖͜h̷̭̥̜̜̙́́̈͛̎̏̃͘͠ȕ̴̙̰͔̞̄ú̴̡̹̮̦̠̐̈́͆͂̀͌̚͜ͅŭ̴͓͙̗̍̑̿̀̽̇̊͑̅͘͘̚͝͠ͅ­̝͔ͅͅu̵̖̰̱̗̬̳͊̇̈́̀̂̿̃͒͛͐̇͐̓͠h̶̡̛̜͉͉̥̻͈͓̱͉̣̀̿̀̊̇̐̈̀̽̈́͗̕̚:̴̛̎̇̂̎́͆̐͐­̢͇̤͕́̅͒͠


Following fine lines
But still, find myself

Lost in the trees
Following these

Rivers of difference
Babbel between

Deliberate peaks
Slivered and scattered ships
  
Littered literates spread
through splattered ṣ̵͗t̴̩͛r̷̲̓ị̵̋p̶͔̑ṡ̶͈

Saying goes:

Man Move Mountains
  Man move ounces
(Tilled forests raise foundries)

Alex Taught to push :
  Immortal as Icarus
Legend so rigorous
Now we all Sisyphus, ****.

(̴͖͝Ď̵̫è̴͉a̵̝͑d̵̝̄ ̶͙͗n̵̞͋ẹ̴̌v̶̡͋ę̵̈́r̸̩̀ ̵̗͝d̸̮͝e̷̳͂a̷̙͊d̶̰̉ ̵̢͝ț̵̿h̶̹̑ê̴̥ ̷̨̿l̷̲̍e̵̘̓g̸͉͑e̴͚̊n̵̜̕ḏ̸͌ ̸͖̿å̶̞c̷̬͐c̷̹̈́o̵̹͐ú̵̩n̶͇͠ṭ̴͋ ̶̹̇f̵̫͋o̴̙͛r̴̮̾ ̴̲͠t̵̫̊h̸͓̾i̷͓͒ś̸͙ ̶̛̣)̶̛̯

Still find people weird...

Times where clowns
Seem see-through.

Where seams of seas
and deeds for these

Grow Seeds from Scenes
My Gurus breathe through.

Winds sweep up
as the Moment pounces

Bullet quick
through Money pouches

Still indigo here too remind that :

We
Is stronger than I

****
is stronger than high

When hearts are aligned
Lead song from the mind

Never seem to last forever
Got em all  waiting for a blast of clever

Listen close :
Hard  to dine and dash in error

Oh god of media ×
just trying to cash in terror

Oh god please raise me up ×
The stairs from Saint to Sinner...

Or was it Sinner to Saint?
Call it trial and error ×

With Mystical p̴̩̀a̶̺̓ḯ̴̦n̸͚͒t̸̪͝
Expert alchemical bearer

I'll be the standard I bear up
Of owning all my moments
This sin that I tear up

Putting my palms feet,
(My hands, words, my deeds)
Towards all souls atoning

Raising grace like the moments laced
God on my tongue, Just
Keeping pace with the aftertaste

I'm a blinded Ace with a savage case
So the doc says hydrate
till the drips replaced

Better stay braced
cause we laying waste ( **** )
Spiky v̵̥̆ḭ̸͆r̵̰̂u̵̙͋š̸̟ covid space (fuuuuck)

Now:

I may pace in place considering vagrant states  
Dey don raised a case to obliterate mental waste

But we ****** up with them Crowley ways to play
Blood, ******, Mag̵͈̕ḯ̸͓k̵̳͠, *** for  days

Corrupted plays....
So far from grace

Figured Paradise Lost
So we prayed through sprays

Blinded by Lazer Raves
While (we) Distract for daze

When The chemical stays
But I called myself a hero,
A chemical Brave...

More like brazen youth
Surrendered
my mind eye and tooth

Question, am I denying truth?
Jesus was I denying you?
Why it takes the loss of a youth
And you saving him for me buy in to ...
The weight of a soul, that's the buy-in foo.

So we:

Mostly Replaced grass with gratitude
Replaced *** with attitude
Replaced mind with knowing you

Looking outside for help
ain't betraying true
We can't know it all
that's just the lay man's


t̸̢̗̞̣̟͕̣̹̭̟̻̬̒̍̒̐͐͛̆̈́̎̅̔̾r̵̺̯̞̩͕̳̘̗̗̗̝͖̯̝̾̒̀͒͆͗͘u̵͔͂̈́̽̐͗̎͐́̉̑̓́̕­̢̢͖͔͍̤t̷̨̛͇̻̙̻̖͔͕̪͍̣̟̜̰̙̉̉̏͗̎̊̀̒͆̊́͋h̷̛̗̙̟̟̠̫̳̦̽̈̀̃̊͋͌͆̀̚͝.̶͍͕̩̘͑­͎
Divine Grime Meditation
1.2k · Feb 2022
Soar throat
POSSIBLE Feb 2022
Ya,

I got my limits
Been here since
hell and back

breathless from carrying Blood and flesh
Bone-World curved to welcome back

Shape-dependent gimmicks tracing  
fresh tension lines followed right on track.

Invisible Limits.....    /   /     /    / .......
Can't see em, so I cant follow back

Right on track, tongue-tied and strapped up
with a strep throat still, its my turn to step up

else Lady luck might step back, all clammed up
**** I Just hoping this note will...

Curse hope, bless action
See its My cipher to rap now

My meaning to unpack; but how?
Courage and Care is a fact plowed

Strength in the face of what we can bear
Samsara, its a Wheel of time turning back now

The only time I show me limits is always
Vulnerable. still hanging in ghetto hallways

Your place safe and sound, you need but call me
I show me, I mean all ME. I mean All Men, I mean Amen. Ah man...

Living shadow, ghost abode, the heart just saying love me
love me, love me,  love me, lord. Keep me warm.

I've never been so cold as looking at the tribe
around the fire's with that fine glow.
Where Freezing feels like final.

breathless from carrying
Bone, Blood and Flesh, flush chested
Do your best, Dont love any less
See your smile, its a breath

to me ...(and Im swimming seas till im Seasick, waves painting a scene sick)

Those curves like Pieces of music,
Kicking hard as I can swimming like im Sea-kick
movement aligned to life and death.

my hide or hair, which can these save?

Music lines and strings of words, its like church to all of us
You see its Cake or death

not willing to lose it, like the chirps of birds seem to follow up
as the morning fights for breath.
1.2k · Feb 2016
Do.Make.Think.
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
TMD..Too many dreams, not enough dreamers.
DMT
Transcendent level of realities,
neurological radio transmitting divine consciousness to filter out daily fallacies.
Collapse in consciousness, Dismantle the physiological boundaries to achieve the pinnacle of a conglomeration of spiritual transformation.
Reconnect with spirit,
So help us Gaia, so help us universal nexus. Without even seeing you, i feel it deeply in my solar plexus,
That we are all connected---
And through our hearts we are protected, we are alive and have been selected to march towards a new paradigm, each soul duly elected;
through this process of love, and support from the synchronicity club,
cleaning up sin city’s pub with our rhymes
Going through  lines and lines of authentic self cravers…. just to deal with jah created vacuums of reverse lasers wielded by ravers.

******’s thoughts to be psychonauts,
Hiding doubts without the slightest worries
Your mind’s a box, minuscule with so many boundaries
But mine is vibrant, vividly stylish and keeps recurring
The past is blurry, barely searching, yea I think u heard me

The skell of the bass leaves zinn in his place
So witness what’s great, see its simply sinful so straight
We empty bliss into our systems till we hallucinate
And then we’re up for days, blazed and drained, turned insane
Time to recuperate

Truth is paradox, Fancy words in a box
Experiential knowledge overlookin the edge

Speak of time as a mystery of the mind
Vivid skies make you realize there is never a bind

Perception of life, simply reflection
Present moment with a longer extension
Don’t even mention your problems
Because We already solved em.

Mescaline and bliss sends me to heaven but with drips
Mix them together nice, chop it fine and I'm ready to commit
Never thinking twice not hesitant, not I
Meditation to astral projection, its my nature to fly

In this world you have to take what you can find for fear of someone ripping it from your grasp in some desperate act of power.  Knowing this, I would give mine away before the final hour.  What a cruel game we play, torturing the self with a recreation of falsified rules.  We can never create until we imagine the tools.

I am not the prophet, but I can still predict the future.
I am not the savior, but I can point out the vulture.
The martyr selfishly lives vicariously through the lives of his followers.

Bored in a solar system
I see the greatest kingdom
Geometric, moving pattern
Static coughing
orbit Saturn

Hold that ****,
true words spoke
Realize that life a joke.
COLLAB ZINN: SEE https://soundcloud.com/zinncity for some conscious Music.
1.2k · Apr 2016
BeCauUSeeVerything is Poetry
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
What does samkhya have to do with yoga?
Dual teaching like I told you twice

They say theres….

2 eternal principles manifest in the universe
nature and the self, knowledge like pursua and prakriti different and yet same in this verse
Salvation through transcenscion duality is false i ought to mention
see through it like fallacy, I bless you no curse now apphrension

like flower prints we impresstoo

Lying and violence distract you from your higher purpose
You think you got swag psh better listen thrice so you know you heard this

the only style you got is the life you gotta clean up
clean up your lifestyle , clean up your style, clean up your lifestyle, clean up yo …. liberation comes from

Samadhi : contemplate : enlightened like we : got no hate upon me
but first you gotta meditate, dhyana  and control your breathe
asana  like my chest is pranayamic some speak false **** like they got no teeth,  these thoughts they squeeze but

The churning of the mind cesses when you find
time to practice seeing the self you framing in kind

Epileptic I seizure mind, so epic synesthetic ,
that ***** divine storm like a portal, shorn my form as a mortal

Come and See the world as it truly is
Ill exist till I die, no reincarnation for I and I
namaste  , en lakesh multi-lingual in these cypher cries

Valid means of knowledge:
Did you observe?
Could you infer?
Do they speak with authority?
Could you preach the analogy?

Just because you don’t see
Doesn’t mean it won’t be
Just because you don’t see
doesn’t mean that the **** won’t be

How do I know I am not the only person in the universe
I know my experience
They display markers
We speak we write We **** we fight
We wish We cry we live we die
so maybe were all conscious

looking at you like
maybe you bought this,
cautious we want this, auspice truth

Smoke gone ghost like I haunt this
Is sound More important Than its Meaning?
1.1k · Feb 2016
Enkidu: Part 3
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
He moved forward through the darkness towards the light of the chariot.  But as Enkidu moved, he remained doubtful.  Was this another illusion?  Is this the right thing to do?  What will the result of this be?  Will I lose myself as I know it?

These doubts and questions there born, changed his trajectory and led him away from the chariot and towards a staircase.  Schismatic thoughts confined to conflict served as a remembrance of the unsolved.

Being moved to the top of the lighted staircase he heard the voice of a woman calling to him.  He passed through the doorway at the top, being lit as it was with brown and green hues, seemingly shimmering across a liquid to be reflected upon the door.  

The scene dissolved and he found himself starting to make out the edges of a forest, a place that he felt a certain resonance with.  

“Why is this so familiar?”

He wondered....Instant realization took hold of his form as he saw the place of his birth....but not from the same time that he lived.  There seemed to be an overlap between the realms of the jeweled garden of the gods, with the cedar forest.  

This was a place untouched by time,
as though its vegetation aged and made wine.

The wilds had been  ushered towards instant life and growth after the creation of it.  The woman's call to him gained a lower octave of tone, as if a man was joining in the song.

A thought spawned from elsewhere initiated recognition within Enkidu.

Humbaba had a consort!  

The voices were so similar, as if from the union of anima and animus with the exception that the male voice was half as dense as it was supposed to be.  The thing giving most of its weight seemed lost, as if trying to come from a place that wasn’t.  

It was the death song of Humbaba, as sung along by his consort's chorus.  
        
The environment changed
its form once again to replicate the moment
Gilgamesh slayed the great monster Humbaba.  

This however was actually a transgression of the divine order of things, the demon being a way to help keep humanity from putting the world out of balance and destroying or forgetting about nature.

A large many armed and many winged being with a leonine face appeared.

*“Do you remember why you died hero?...Yes, it was because you incurred the wrath of the gods, and the unseen womanly wrath of me.  You took my consort before he could plant his seed in me.  You took my present and my future, so we, the divine, did the same for you.  You broke my union and yet you know nothing of union...Of a sacrifice of self?  You know nothing ...but I can teach you.  In order to learn though I need you to do but one thing...The only fitting thing.  Join me, lose yourself in me and empty yourself of yourself of fear and into my womb. Be the other side in a divine love circuit, and in this way I may birth another protector of the realm, one born of the originals murderer, and one of divine order.  Fitting no?”
1.1k · May 2016
How Did I get Here
POSSIBLE May 2016
I
have
my
moments

and

my
moments
have
me,

that's for dam sure.
hello, somebody help me how did I get here?
1.1k · Feb 2016
What am I?
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
I catch the wind as it sings,
the air slides off so smoothly as it licks me clean
I am the essence of the prolonged flight
a necessary piece of this biological schema or meme

Viewed from below, the sky caresses my form
fractal in its simple, yet non-single shadow swarm  
Hunting in the perfect performance;
I must scream: THIS IS LIFES’ ****

Suddenly I am separated in somewhat sinful schism
I drift apart from the forlorn form of what was once my prism
I miss that system...It was my home not my iron-clad prison

….but apart after the start....If I am part of the parts...........
….how shall I help my whole being...
….complete it’s functional syllogism with heart?

Falling so slowly,
Mother sky please excuse me
At this junction I must depart
In conclusion
I bid you adieu from my heart of hearts....
============================================until I am
Picked up by a man imbued with spirit, He holds the eagles medicine now firmly in his hand.  Distinct in shape and my weight helps him to understand.....  

….his brother in the sky
the being way up high
the one who is watching
far away but nearby....

I now know my function, though I lost sight for a while
I can help teach him to fly, out of his body and into
the cry of the eagle that soars with him now,
A brother in arms================= a lover of ours,
now with a friend on his brow, helping fulfill a spiritual how.
1.1k · Dec 2023
Silly Scyther Snippin
POSSIBLE Dec 2023
Mumble Rappers be on something like:
"gotta bad *****...she ain't be walking righ°..."

Double-dipping,
No-stopping
Frames-dropping,
No-clipping,

wutta glitchy sight ..

I've been sitting super stealthy cypher.
I've been running with my do-or-die fir.

[Careful]

I would die for what
What you would eye for
Cloudy with the red eye
Insight, eyesore

I swore, pops, that I'd be different
Spec ops man, Mine's been misting

Foggy froggy frothing
when I spit distance

3eyes shifting
2Split  da difference

  Any1 asking Meh:
How have I been getting....?

Guru Minds have been sitting
squarely as a cube in cypher

Make mah breathes for human
CubanS matter as I decypher :

Life is living truth
or daring to choose to live
  or die for ...

Ai just a silly Scyth0r snipping sidebar sowings
  stow no baggage. That's what I'd be towing.

Rats staining, stinging
pocked and potent.

Out  of the Cabbage patch
that I've been growing

01011011 01111101 01111011 00101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01010000 01110010 01100001 01100011 01110100 01101001 01100011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00101100 00001010 00100000 01101001 01110100 00100000 01110111 01100001 01110011 00100000 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01100010 01101111 00100000 01100100 01100101 01101110 00101110 00101110 00101110 01111101 01111011 01011101

Sorry to be blunt, man
.... it's a sour twist,
Undid the trap mode
went too lavish

>> the-Gentle-Ghost-o'-ghetto
hopes at most to let go,
Building out hell bricks
Pave- too -close -to -level<<

it's all in the mental,
in the same lane stack

Shake a Lil when treble trains track,
Shake, shake when the train track,

shake shake, shake when it trains
shake when the trains track.

I swear, it's not a bad tick.
Just bring the brains back.

It's not a bad tick. Just get the brains back
it's not a bad tick. The brains back~

just bring the brains back
bring the brains back

Bear with me. >>Music turned up.
Are the windows cracked?<<

..............Who should have brought the show...vel? And the WAXWHALESTACK....................................................­.................................................................­.................................................................­.................................................................­.................................................................­.............................................................
The Black Book of Azathoth + The King In Yellow should not be read inside out and backwards.
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
There's a stranger at the door
Eyes are blurry and sunk to the floor
its the middle of the night and the noise causes fright
you open the door and fear what’s more

grabbed by the beard
assailed in the night
tribal lines feared
by the victims of tonight

They cut off my manhood
they cut off my might
Fanatic terrorism
Is the cult I must fight

But I would have rather died
sleep through the perils I’ve eyed
than to have this beard of mine cut
my manhood, my pride

This ego has fallen
by the hand of slandered, misguided pride

-Sam mullet must be tried
-sa fool that must be tried

When they stole my hair they stole my story
This beard was much more than identity allegory
They didn't steal it all though....

I escaped

To tell a story of fear in a horse and buggy ride
To alert the media and to simply confide
We never locked our doors before
you wondered “what violence” you s3nseless *****.

Schism between the mainstream and Mullet
and the scissors cut/divide communities apart
like a cook does a cutlet
Never forget the scissors that took my bucket-list ,
TerrorEYEz; learned helplessness, cult leader...****-it-quick.

.****.youSamMullet.
tabloid article
POSSIBLE Mar 2016
The paradox of eros mixed with the half-smiling
severe practice of self-discipline of avoiding all forms of indulgence...

Tandava, like the corner of the triangle is undoing the center
Rather burn it all and begin anew then save the system manifesting through this

relationship of : Form and Action
Announcing the difference between desire and duty

Kama and Dharmma,
based in Samsara,
ascension through action-based
relinquished like Karma

But Is he really an Ascetic….  
Why then does Siva enter the forest naked with a ***** *****?

Is he really an ******…..
Why then did Siva set fire to kama, indigo weapon, third eye flame?

or was it the other gods that sent him to blame...

Without problems, the contradictory roles seen as whole
in the face of the Holy howling storms, rudra, indra seen in forms

Meditative, bubbling passion sitting still

sacred Dharmma and unattached passion
relates to his skin blue, from that one time
he drank the demon poison to keep his kin coo’

Gangadhara the river was born of your thoughts
running steadily like the state of the freedom

you tantricly embody
Siva is wild and unpredictable....

like an angry, sentient banana
holding up a bank
with an exploding credit card.
1.0k · Feb 2016
Viral Inception
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
Vindictive viral inception,
Sneaking in my thoughts pretending
ta be the Ego inside o’ me
No!Free! Digo me,
Quickly

WHEN,WHERE,HOW, WHY? come the questions
“No answers” quoth the clouds as they transfigure by.

I am done defending why
I don’t think I need to take my slice of the pie.
Take a look; exclaim ow, oh my
I got a piece of SKELL truth in my eye

Sincerely instead of me, so trickster
this shadow amphetamine

But my light is gone
A denser Vibration I adorn

One of Absorbtion,
no reflection ever
since this inception

…of attachment
…of suffering
…of another love

So in love it tears me apart
So in love it wears my heart

so instead of being asleep
I’m desecrating thoughts, tainting delete.

Making others worry and weep
as I sweep my gaze

From external to internal
infernal extension

referral to station
impatient inflation
we stand together in the dirt o’ the nation

so in love I seem to flirt
So in love I always hurt

I read the text on the screen….and **** NO!
It can’t mean…eye look, I scream.

Shock sets in, while I’m translated in the hug of a friend.

We lock eyes and she knows why…
Darkness sets in and she helps me cry;

tears from near realized fears,
tears from the suffering

desire steers.

My boy is in trouble
I’m in a hurry and on the double
STAND BACK
PLEASE SLACK
this information noose is too tight to *******…and my throats so t.i.g.h.t I can’t taste the air. This isn’t fair! What a cruel affair to send me into such disrepair.

Mental suffering burns like a flame, so I use cigarette burns to tame
the Pain in my heart…………..fading away.
My body cools off and with a different pain I can face the day.

So often I pray for the day where my loved ones can stay in zion with me, oh wait hypocrisy risin inside o’ me
please state, the ideas deriving me, Caged in my psyche, found the lock, but lost the key.

gotta get outta my mind, gotta get outta my body
opaque and dense, and way late for defense
Wee wait in such suspense for LIFE to dispense, of us and our love.

WhyohWhydotheseideasresideinme, if i leave my body will i be free, they think you justgottado1morethingtosee.

I just hope to god they don't try again.  I just can't take that part of the plan....
Please live. and be glad for it.
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
limited knowledge like the texture of the universe
incarnate into thunderbird till you reimburse
being human, yoga seeking union, change wave like a pitch bend
Discard the temporary factors reach the innermos,t ego rend,
rightly reach the innermost self within his or her own being, discarding on the way all temporary characteristics when asked to move do I
Move my atman or my body?
Do You own your soul like a new bugatti
Try to see it as it truly is
the body is insignificant
eternal forever ripping it.
I am the servant when I know my body
Yours when I live like atman highly
I contain without recipticol i.e
Is god different than matter, what IC..
Does it matter? knowledge
offered fresh like silver platter
that eyeB
"Move *****! "
"Do I move my body or my soul?"

Om purnamadah purnamidam
purnat purnam udacyate
purnasya purnam adaya
purnamevavashishyate

Om, that is infinite and this is infinite
the infinite comes from the infinite.
Subtracting the infinite from the infinite,
the infinite remains.
POSSIBLE Feb 2022
I believe I foretold it would be as thus:    
Solar skylinẽ̶̱̫̽s̴͚͖͖̑̿̈́ ̴̨̊̆͘ͅ and s̴͚͖͖̑̿̈́hadow folk    

Just enough control    
to forgo the infinite scroll    

Solar skylines  and corner-f̶̟̾̒ở̴̰͉l̴̩̻̖̈́̇̏k̶̼̠̟͐̽̆
Inf̸̞̈́̀̆î̵̥͉͈̎͝n̵̲̜͋͋ite threads left in water soak    

I /̸̧̨͑͝ Ain't no Slow’bro    
That's just my flơ̶̡̞̦̗̇̇͑ẃ̷̧͉̠̰͛ bro...    

It's the courage to carve r̴͝ͅe̶͖̅a̶̻̍l̷͕̀ity    
Rather than be carved by it tho’ bro    
    
BỎ̴̝B: "Alexander, what is time? "    
He asked me slyly every time.    

I spent a lifetime both dreading and looking forward to his question
.
.Every description failed pri̸͈͋me.    
No absolute, just a c̶o̷n̵s̴t̴r̵u̶c̶t̴ ̶ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̸

We cli̸̹̜͋m̴̡͓̓b̵͈̈́ě̶̢̮͝d̸̼͙͗ in crime.   
 
What is time, nothing without a life to live it.    
What is time, sloughing about applied too timid    

What is time? Food for Kã̶̤̾l̶̪̣̒i, blood-drenched goddess
Drinking wine tapped off the barrel of entropy    

What is time? Pa̴͈̎r̵̢̹̂t̵̝͈̤͆̾icle configurations are a matter of choice, a voice to awareness, a song sung in rareness, a vibe of there-ness and where-ness, all of which unite the tribe like an Heiress.  

Time is saying it b̸͙̪̱̃̃e̴͔͊gins, but also en̶̰̬̽ds
but is it a process or event?    

What is time, another moment we call our own
'till the supreme eagle gapes its mouth and eats our ex̴̪̠̂̑͘p̸̟̎̚erience?  

If we are ******* with time, then that's our time. But if we can separate what we are from the vine of our experience, can we stay conscious when it ends?   ....can we...
Stay conscious...
can...
we... 

What took you so long?  
  




.̶̫͉̼͓͎̉̋̀̀̀͐̅̒̿̆́͗̈͑̂̌̎̈́̑̄̑͋̏̆̉͝͝ ̷̧̧̧̨͕̻̱̮̘̲̦͉̪̘̦̺͔̰̤̮̒̾͛́͂̀̔̀̑̌͌̏͌̈́̄̅̉͐̇̏̊͛̈͌͘͝͝ ̷̨̧̧̨̜̲̙̜͇͎͇̦̞̩̼̲̒̊͛͒̌̀̾͑̒͊̀̈́͜͝ ̷̡̢̩͍͔̠̭̭͎̗̐́̊̿ͅT̸͇͖͖͍̝͖͔̟̲̤͐͒̄̒̿͋̃̂͂̅̾͂̂͆̔̒̀͊͌̌͆͛̾̋͐̍͑̓̃̂͑̄̎͒͘͜͝­̠̭i̷͎͂̽̀͗͋͑̈̄͂̈́̓͐͂̅͋̇̈́̍́̓͗͒͊̽̉́̉̃͂͘͠͝m̴̡̢̖͕̝̪̱͎̫̺͓͍͚̲̞̪̗̯͕͎̯̹͊̀̈̓­̧̟̼̳͚̗̘̹͉̘͔e̷̡̛̜̗̞̣̳̙̪̣͌̒̇̇̐̈́͗̿͠.̶̫͉̼͓̉̋̀̀̀͐̅̒̿̆́͗̈͑̂̌̎̈́̑̄̑͋̏̆̉͝͝­͎ ̵̡̹͎̟̗̺̦͓͍̓̈͊̔́̃̽̔͛̍̏̚͝ ̵̡̧̨̡̧̺͈̠̼̪̜̟̻͇̬̲͈͉̻͇͖̩͙̹̜̣̠̗̻͓͕̯̗̳̳̣̫̼̱͔̂̿͐̍̈́̾͌̃̊͛̉̄͑̎͑̈͂́͘͘̕͜͜͝­ ̷̧̧̧̨͕̻̱̮̘̲̦͉̪̘̦̺͔̰̤̮̒̾͛́͂̀̔̀̑̌͌̏͌̈́̄̅̉͐̇̏̊͛̈͌͘͝͝ ̷̨̧̧̨̜̲̙̜͇͎͇̦̞̩̼̲̒̊͛͒̌̀̾͑̒͊̀̈́͜͝ ̷̡̢̩͍͔̠̭̭͎̗̐́̊̿ͅ





For me it was Time    
that took so long  

a lifetime
mining my mind. 
   
At least it Took time  
to not mind mine.  

To bring up treasure that shines    
like E̸̡͚̩̹̗̟̱͙̣̩̬͕̜̯͖̩̬̜̭̖͔̰̤͕͚̱͛̂̈̈́̓ȋ̸̡̨̙̹̟͊̐̄̉̊͛ͅn̴͌̆̾͗͌̀͌̊̂̂͒̽̇͘͠­̰̹͕͔̪̹͈̅͋͛̌͂̈́͠͝stein’s Smile,    



taking a sideline  
with  ̸̛͚̙͇͛̇͒̋͊̇̏́́͑ë̵͖̘͓͖͍́͂̅̓́̚͜͝ equals an mc with a divi̵̡̟̹̲͔͖̩̎̆̍ͅn̷̢̼̠̻̓̄͑̌̈̑͂̏̓͝e mind  
drinking fine wine  in the right mind smoking pine, pine    

Got Stuck on the timeline  
wondering if society Light shine  

on the white line more than the black minds making dried vines  

or if I'm too privileged; Bl̸̡̾̾̑̾indsided by the limelight .   

I know I am here to hold a mirror
2reflect a rainbow so vibrant
even blind mice gonna feel this ~Allied line~    

This clock of mine, each thought tick tocked along.
No puppy mind, no funny kind,
just me reminding with weary mind,

that together in this moment

we just made a song while Stuck in Divine Grime,
Scared Oc̷̫͉̔t̴̶̸̷̷̷̶̶̶̴̵̷̵̶̶̷̴̸͚̱̝̠̾̀̋̎̾͑̈̇̆͐͘͘ơ̶͉͎͔̮̻̳̻̤͓̥̥̈̀̓̃͆́͆gon­ the Study Guide.

It's the courage to carve reality    
Rather than being carved by it  

Solar skylines  and corner-folk  


Infinite threads left in the w̴̺̘̗̜̪̣͎͚͉̺̰̹͊̌̑̋͆͂̈ͅā̴̛̩̳̩̝̞̳͋̒͒̌͆̇̅̀̈̔̈̂̓͘̕͝͝͠t̶̅̏͗͑͛̍̋̃͒̃͐̑̾­̡̨̛̹̳͇̗̦̣͍̋̎̄̀́̕͝e̴̡̧̱̻̫̰̮̘̼̼̖̱͚͇̋͆̈́̂̋̏́͐̀͊͂͒̕ͅȓ̷̡̢̲͈̺̫̗͓̈́͛͊͑ ̵̼̻̘̹̞̫̠̬̤̬̜̲̰͇̊̈́̒͝ͅs̷͍̙͉̟̦̯̹̯̘͑͒̑̌̎̓̍̆̅̾o̷̡̦̱̖͉̹͕̭̓̎̑́̓̈́̾̚̕͝͝a̴̛­̡̧̞͖̙͚̦̩͎̙̬̣̻̼͔͖̙̹̖̀͜ͅǩ̸̡̢̡̨̻͇̫͍̜̤̯͇͓͓̗̻͖̭̤̪͋̐͝͠ ̶͖̃͝ ̷̢̢̧̡̛̲̥̦͍̼͎̲͈͙̞͋́͂̅̎̀̀̐̾̒͒͜͝ͅͅ ̸̨͇͇̞̮͑ͅ ̵͕̰̩̲̗̄͒̌̑̈́̔͌̋̅͒̅̃͐́̈́̉̌̅͘͜͠
and I still don't have the answer
Time is motion with Memory//What then is time, if no one ask of me I know, If I wish to explain to him who asks I know not.---st. Augustine Not a single article has ever been published begins with a definition of time, yet mathematical physics has placed almost all of its eggs in this one basket. Not one scholar can define this basic term...SDOF
984 · Feb 2016
Enkidu : Part 1
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
There is Presence.  Presence....and there is Light.

“Where am I?  What and Who am I?  Am I alive or dead?"  

A suppressed thought makes itself known, “You were once Enkidu....” The simultaneous recognition and brilliance of the place kept Enkidu awestruck and unable to act.  Suddenly, sounds. As if they were coming from somewhere inside Enkidu rather than off in the distance.  They funneled into each other, a chorus of voices both alien and familiar crescendoing finally into an empty silence from which the most clear whisper he had ever heard trickled forth.  Its reverberations vibrating his form as it spoke:

*“This is the Kingdom of light, as it is, which no city on earth can equal.  See how its network of light points provide the foundation for the most masterful of physical world’s architecture.  Climb the undulating, gyre staircase, built of alternating circuits of thought and emptiness.  Go! And approach the dwelling of your true Self, sacred to the all that is, and equalled by no earthly aspect that could ever be.  Make your way through the kingdom of light and follow it through to the end.

Realize the equanimity of its presence, examine the truth that creates this platform of existence and see how it pours itself constantly into the construction of the physical world; its palm trees, gardens, orchards, the glorious palaces and temples, the shops and marketplaces, the houses, and the public squares.  This is the dwelling of the infinite presence pervading the universe as an imperishable and unchanging force.  Welcome to that which is beyond both is and is not...."
When Enkidu, brother of Gilgamesh died he didn't stop being conscious.  This was his journey
POSSIBLE Nov 2023
Hello
H̵e̵l̵l̵ is lo

Grand Rising
Mind the Do

No Boundary -No burden Man
No Foundry -No Smoking plants

See....(d)s))

We had lived out the ghet̴̹̥̲͈̤̬̘̪͇̗̰̣̼̖͊́̌̃̆̑͊̀̉̓̓̇̋̃̈́ͅṯ̵̢̢͙̹̌̍̽̾̌̃͛̆̔̾̃̚ŏ̴͓̠̳̤͍̀̊̅­̨̜̙̣̳͎͇̳̝̮͜.
( at E.) Alaska and poverty w̵̢̢͇̱͔̻̹̪̞̰̬̱̻̉̂͛̏̔̕à̷͔͕̦̭̾̿̌͗͐̕͘͠ÿ̶̝̯̲͈̪̠̥̗͈̼͔̮̖̆͋͛̓̎̍̍̄̿̽͜͠
­
Been smoking off sphagedro
Don't ask (me) how
the property paid

We had convinced ourselves
this was poverty made,
this was the way
it was the mental

Rather than how to properly pave...
Stop and get saved. We'd rob and rip r̴̟̗͔̣̋̽͂̑̐̍͒́͒́͘ạ̶̡̡̡̭͍̥͔̖͓̜̥͎̩͙̓͌ves
To tap into ley lines , we laid ̶l̵i̶n̵e̴s̵
to hear one another?

Why?

We fade minds to the sidelines
Existence is another mother consumed
Tripped im a land mind
everyday, it was essential
Felt like we saved lives
just by saying

Hi

Who was I supposed to be then
how am I poised to po̸̢̧̡̙̟̥͉̮͈̮͇͇̎͂͌̇̀̃͘͜͜se now?

H̵e̵l̵l̵ is empty
And all the devils are he̶͔͂̿̀re

Don't come and tempt me
And All the bedouins near

the d̵̢̨͈̫̦͈͈̦̣̯̼̔͛̔̅̾͝ͅͅa̷̼̠̱̥̪̥̗̫͖̞̱̻̻͐͒̅́̌̾͜͝r̵̡̨̼̰͉̜̝̳̥͕͇͐̅̈̍̚͜k̴­̧͇̖̳̦̞̞̯̲̖̾̈͌̀̀̍̀̈́͗͗́̌͑̅͘͘can be a low hum

That low hum f̵̛̞̲̞̮̙͚̠̮̀̋̆̓͂̓̓̄̔̃̈́̋́̀̐̍͘͘a̷̛͉̭̤̩̳͓̰̦͍͕͈̥̜̣̟̥̼̍̍̃̔̇̄̈́̅̔̚l̴̉́̇́­̢̪̮̗̺̗̭l̶̢̢̧̰̰̞̹̙̣̳̩̱̙̀́̏̊̓̓́͘ ̶̛͔͔͓͙̥̫̩͇̭̩̜̻̹̇̅̄͗̐́̒̂̈́͛̀͂͋̚͘ to a dull ***..

*** turn silence to the doldrum̴̬͔̰̠̠̳̫̠̠̣̫̺̠̝͍͙̎̌̓̽̌͋̍͛̔̂͌͑̔̂̃̊̎́̄̈́́̕͘͘͠ͅ

** hum eve, press up the tress
the shadow be a pit fall,
mess up your knees

a void in eve become
a slow shade seed

Devoid of the needs
beckon doe ray me

its beyond whats in the fire
in the propane, key

Heating up with Sour D
Pushing to get pro-paid
(C)see)()()
Halo with the dome braid
Angel with the co-pay

Singing singles with lonely
Singing for the lonely!

When did culture become business?
When my business became the culture...

Its not a bug, its a feature,
long exposure measure

the posture of composure,
Who could torture the Rapture,

The picture is the culture
self- Suturing the Future

its a self-evident thing,
so potent it ring

Bout to help Erich architect
A co̴̡̢̰͕͈̦̲̤͖͇̯̮̬̟͍͙̥͉͍͚̳̙͕̫̣͍͓̙͓̖̮͇̼̞̗͇̺̎͗̄̇́͜rner outta the ring
carve a Stone outta the wing


Dem B̶̛̻͇̺̻̣́͑͗̑̽͐̑̍̂͒̀̇̚̚͝͝ǫ̷̨̨̭̲̪̝͎̹̰̺̈́͛̔̓̍̎͆́̉̅̊̈́̒̕͝ň̸̼̞̯̟̱͓̌͜͠͝­̙͈̫͚̙͎̱̝̣͜ẽ̴͖̓͊̊͝ gotta be prouda king
But Whats the sound when it sing?
N̴̨̧̧̧̨̨̢̧̢̨̢̡̢̢̢̨̧̢̨̢̡̡̢̢̧̧̛̛̛͓̞̯̙͍͔̱̳̙̥̖͙̺̩̣͕̹͎͍̮̞̰̣̦̼̯̮̬̮̼̪̬̗̩͚̻͓̝̝͎̮̫̠͚͔̯͉̺̲͉͇̻͈̺̘̲͉̥̦̺̖͈̹̥̘̜͇̥̮̲̙̯̜̟̺͖͚̫̫̹̫̱̝̰͖͓̮͕̜͖̟͉̬̝͕̻͙̜͓̗͖̥̝͇̞̥̙̟̥̘̯͔̫̞̻͇͚͍͖͔̗̭̻̝̖̟̯͎̤̳̻̰̖͕̥̳͖̹̗̳̲̝̯̝͓̮͙̤̞͓̬̰̲̲̞͇̩̤͈̝̘̖̲̬̱̮̣͚͍̣̫̬̘̳̮̗̭̮̥̝̖̖͔͙͉̲̬̮̙̤͖̺͚̭͓̲̘̻̮̻̖̻̫̗̳̦̻̪͎͉̜̣̰̳̠͎͈͍̞̞͍̥͎̯̳̠̩͉̻͉̦̱̬̞̯͍̰̺͇̦̣̮̫̱̤̝̤̄̋̅̋̒̽̿͆̈̓̑͛͗̆̿̋͛̇̊̋̆̀̑͒̅̄͋̇̏̀̇͑͑̓̌̋̒͒͗͆̈̓̃̋̄͛͛̑͛̎͋́͒͋̆̎̆̊͒̈́̆̓͐̍̑̈́̋̃̿̏͛̅̆͛̿̔͊̏̓͗́͛̒̅̈́̔̏̒̒̀̄͋̀̈́̐̔̊̽̋͂͗̾͊̎̿̕̚͘͘͘̕͘͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅơ̴̡̨̧̡̢̢̢̧̢̢̢̧̧̡̢̡̡̢̢̛̛̞͖̺͎̯̘̣͙͕͔̫̳̲̻̥̞̞̮͇͚̯͚̬̭͙̘̣̤͈͔̹͈̳̣̩̫̰͎͉̹̺̝̟̗͚̫̬̗̻͔̯̘͕̣͎̙̭̠̺̜̬̳̭̫̙̞͖͎̠̙̮̬̱͉̻̲͉̝̺̤͉̤̳̘̭̻̥̻̯̮̖̦͇̥͇̩̖̼̫̗͍̟͖͙̝̹͇̤̜̭͎͈̹̩̰̬̯̻̱̞̦͉͕͉͎̟̠͈̻̱̳̼̯̯̯̙̮̟̲̹̫̥͈̬̞̮̘̬̩͓͖̹͙̬̻̖̻͕̦͖̯͔̟̲͇̦̼̤̤̎͋͆̾̒͌̽̾͐̔̆́̃̑̉̎̋̔̋̉͒̇̔̊͑́̅́̂͛̈́̂͐̍̂̓́͊̋̎̉̃̑̇̅̋́̊̾̐͗̎̏̿̌͌̾̂̏̈́̓̓̀̃̀͆́̿̓̿́̃̑̃͂̅̉̐̍͊̀̽̊̔̒̈͒̄̾́͐͌͒̂̔̈́̀͌͂͌̋͊̒́̐̽͌͆̈́̅͛͋̃̉̃̈̂͐̔̔̄͒͌̇̐́͂̍̈̂̋͘͘̚̚̕͘̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅ ̶̢̧̧̡̢̨̧̡̢̢̨̧̧̡̛̛̛̛̖̫̪͔̮̪̘̖̗̺͈̯̥̜͓͍̼̪̦͇̱̼̥̻̹̘̣̬̪̳̤͖̭̜̺̲̳̮͎̞̭̪̜̬̣̥̞͈͉̻̤͓̘̜̤͕̹̬̯͎͔̼̫̯̗̟͔̬͕̦͕̩̮̠̘̙͖͔͙̤͕̱̤̪̘͇̺̺̰̹̪͖͕̬̯̳̣̗̟̜̖̳͈̺͓̟̪̮̝̣̘͊̈́͛͌͂̓́̔͗́̑̄͆̇̾̾̌͑͂̀̈͂͋̿͒͆̐̾̀̈́͌̒͊̂͑͐̈́͑́͌̿̏̔̍͋̔̈́͆͊̃͆͋́͛͊̃̂̍̓̏͆̿̾̋̍̃̂̑͐̔̍̿̆̍͌̑͆̏̐̅̍̎̂͂͊̉̈͗̾̾͑̂́͋͗̅͂̈́̐̀̂̇͐̐̏͋̋̑̈́̀̄̋̒͒͒̄͋̀͂̽̓̋̇̓̂̈́̇̍̑̈́̇̆̍̎̉͐͊̒͑͋̓̒͊͒̏̿̀̅̏̈́̋̔̂̒̅̅̊͋̂̓͐̏̕̕͘̚̕̕̕͘͘̚͘̚̕̚̕͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅb̸̧̨̨̢̢̧̢̡̧̨̧͓͈̟̭̳̱͈͚̳̤̲̦̪̜̳͉̫̭̖̥̬̦̹̲͔̯̦͕̱̭͓̝͍̖͇̠̝̲͎̲̱̦̱̫̠͚̗̰̲̞̺̻̪͓̺͖̮̲̰̲̝̲͍̠̳̝̭̣̲̱̟̯̪̤̹̼̟̞̣̝͚̙̼͔̱̬̣̪̤̺̫͍̳̭̬͈͔̬̦̫̮̙̫͕̜̥̥̙̻͎̰̬͔̼͓̳̖̠͙̯̻̮̠̥̮̹̟̹̼̬̼̰̞̟̟̗̯̩͚̙̱̭̗͎̗͈̣̣̝̺̺̝̮̘͖̠̬͚͉̞̘͔̥̠̟͚̗͉̏͌̎̇͂͘͜͜͜͜͜͜͝ͅͅͅͅͅở̶̡̨̨̡̨̡̨̢̢̡̨̢̧̧̧̡̡̡̢̢̨̢̢̢̢̢̧̛̛̛̛̛̖̘̣̭̙̰̲̬̘͓̬̹̖̜̜̜̙̥̮̥̩̺̬̙̖̘͓̺̱͉̙̞͕̪̯̤̜̬͍͙̬̤̩̺̺̘͎̬̻͎̻͓͍̺̮̺̜̫͍͎̘̦̺̥̠͖͕̫̪̤̭̺̯͍͉̠̖̪̜̥̲̭͍͕̭͙̙̭̪̭̥̳̭̭͖̮̤̜̤̮̞͙̳͍̬͓̜̰͈̬̻̰̞̝̗̩͔͖̖̙͚̹̲̜͚̰̣͇̭̞̮̫͖̥͍̖̱͉̝̬͈̼̪̰͕̹̺̯͇̲̬̮̮̗̫̮̳̪̖̣͕̤̖͎̱̻̭͇̤̪̖̣̗̝͍͚̮̖͓̰͕̳̝̤̮̰̣͍̯̩͈̰̬̳̼͖͙̳̟̪̭̣̟̠̳̲̻͈͉̙͚͖͉̤̼̙̬̤͙̘̩͇̠̦͙̜̺̟̙̱̉̇̿̄͗̾̇̊̉̓͋̎̅͋̃̍̄͗̋̋̏͆̍̂̑̋̍̂̄̋͛̑̿̊̐͐̓̈́͒̽̂̆̎́̋̀͑̂̽͒̔̓͐̅́̈̍̂̇̇̉̌͆̋̀̀́̈́̈́̓̏̆͋̈̄̓͆̓̒̂̿̃͑͒͊̈́̾͂̈̽̓̓̍̈́̀̽͒͒͗͗̒̋̀̊̍̀̃͒̃̿͌́͐̍͂̍̾̂̔́̐̀̓͑̏̐̒͋̂͛͌͂̍̿̆̾͂̾̃͌̋̓́̋̏̆̿̍̐̈́̆̆̽̓̆̈̂͊̚̚̕͘̕͘̚͘̕͘̕̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͠͠͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅư̶̢̡̡̢̧̨̨̧̡̢̢̢̨̡̧̡̛̛̛̟̤͖̠̠̘̪̱͓͓͓̲͕͓̱̮̺̤̹̘̬̣͓͎̘͈̥͕̥̘̜̳̥̼̟͚͎͔̦̯͍̞̘̣̞̩͔̲̫̭̻̞̹͙̮͕͕͕͙̪̥̻̗̭͎͕̘̼̠͖͖͚̻͈̗͇͚͚͈͚̞̱̟̪̲͉̫̘͈͈̞͇̟̞͚̰̞͙̖̦͇̩͚͙͉̭̘̥̞̩̯͍̱̼̥̩͙̦̭̖̜̼̻̼̙̘̥͉͔̮̻̠̠̬̫̞̲̦̪͚̣̣̱͎̖̻̝̜̭̞̪̯̬͚̂̑̃͌͋̐͑̈́͆̀̋̉̈́̎͗̂̎͂̆́͌̄̈́̔̂́̎̍̌̀̀̄̀̌̎̈́̍͂̉̽̇͑̃͗̐̓̀́̇͐͛̇̽̀̀͒̇͛͋̂͂̔̒̿̎͊̅͗͐̂̌͂̓̇̎̄̈́͌̏̋͐̽̒̀̈́̊̄̇̈́͆̽́́̀͆͐͊́͋̉̐̋͋̂̃̂́̿̇̋͐͋̈́̿͌́̏͊̎̒̋̌̓̒̔͆̋̎̀́̅͑̀́͂͂͘̚͘̕̚͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͠͝͠͝ͅͅn̷̢̨̢̧̨̧̢̢̡̡̨̨̢̡̧̧̡̡̧̧̢̡̧̧̨̪̜͚͈̼̟̲̤̙̺͉̮͚̼͙͇̪͖͖̖̼͍̗̜̙̗̮̲̺̣̝̳͎̝̤̲̘͍͉̯̰̘͉̲̭̥̬̖͇̲̜̹̳͖̣̥̘̙̦̺͎͙̙̩̞͍͍͙̞͙͈̫͕̤͍͇̭̝̹̼̜͔̩̲̮̤̗͙̘̹̭̰͔͓͕̩͉̝͈̬͍̼͓̼͙͔̯̲̠̯̝̯͓̘̹̠̘̤͚̻̱̮̙̦͉͕̻̗̟̰͈̠̩̫̹̗̞͎̰͈̬͇̹̞͍̜̤̟͕͔͚͔̞̠̪̙̺̩̪͙̬̠̪̤͉̤̱͖̣̠̤͖̦͇͕͈̘̰͇̣̜̰̳̭͎̥͎̫̰̺͈͙̘̬͙̰͎̠̖͙͓͕̬̰̼̫̙̞̲̤̗̤̤̘̥̩͍̩̩̠̭̘̥̘̳̜͓͕̫̺͛͋̍̑̂̓͐́̌̌́̿͌̈́͗̽̐̆́̿͑̉͒̑̈́̈́͌̈́͆͊̈́̉̑͛̓̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅd̸̨̨̡̨̨̡̧̢̢̨̨̨̧̨̡̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̪̳̮̱͎̱̳̼̜̬̦̗̰͔̻̱͕͈͚̞̻̦̤͕͔͇͎̤̥̞̮͎̖̦̻̤̲͕̳̳̟̘͕̖̗̯̼̥̬͔̪̥̮̻̟͕͖͎͚̩̥̠̣̟͍̻̳̟͍̩̹̬͚͍̹͍̭̝̗̘͔͉̰͖̥̪͇̻̬̞̳͔͈̱̰̦̲̠͓͈͈͉̲̝̼͖̠̺͉̦̹̱̠͚̬̤̠͉̱̠͇͈̲͕̱̳̼̖̫̬̙̱̳̺̖͕͎̦̝͔̫͇͖̱̹̘̦̳̱͇̲͉͉̦̳͇̟̹̭̗̲̫͔͎̹̺̳͔̲̯̼̳̹̗͈̮͔̥͍͎̭̣̩͈̗͍͓̮͈͙̮͖̤͕̹̗̭͓̟͇̺̱̱̞̙̪̻̲̞̬̹̫̺̣̘̺̰̤͍̥̦̂̃̽̌̓̊̀̀̄̏͊͆̒̈͛͑̾̇̿̔͊̓͗̄̽̔̾̑͊̔̇̓̉͐̑̇̄̾̇̉̽̌̎̓̽̏͐͒͂̈́͑̅̈́͑̍̅̌͊̇̈́͐̄́̅̐̈́̃̍̌̾̎̐̆̍͒̀͛̉̈́͑͊̿̌̓̓̈́͂̏̈́̿̆̑́̋̔̿̓̇͋́̑̈͌͐̅̑͛̆͗̐͊̓̋͌̉͑͛̏̓̄̈̎̑̅̌̄͗͗̀̇͐̎̉̋͗̓̾̌͂̋͐̒͛̽́̽͒̏̋͐̉̒́́̈́̀̆͊̈̊̀̃́̔̏̈́̈̑̋̆̽̇̌̅̃̌̋̿̈́̓̀̎̊̓̐̀̔͐͋̐̈́̃͂͋̓͂̽̉̍̓̾̔̈́͑́̔̀̉̈́̔̿͂͗̒̿̀̌͋͋̆͌̿̅̄̈̓̆͗̀̓̓͐̈̒̏̀̿̓̌͛̽͌̎͘̕͘͘̚̕̕̕͘͘̚̚̕̚͘̕̚͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅą̴̡̢̢̨̨̧̨̢̧̧̢̨̨̢̻̖̖̮̬̪͕̮̻̱̻͇̹̻͍̘͎̮̥̠̜̬̻͔̳͔͈̳͈̮̮̮̬͖̜̲͎̭̼͕̻̳͔̭͖͙̱͉̜̫̘͎̦̝̲͔̻̪̖̫̜̠̼̰̗͚̩̳̠̮̻̲͍̘̤̬̞̰͓̩̯̥̮͉̙̻̪̻̞̲͍͍̝̟͇̮̰̼̯͈̼̥̞̣̼̼̩̤͍̤͕͈̳̞̯̲̞͕̠͕̝̝͙̯̗̮̭̮̳̣̙̞̣̻̥̗͙͈̖̪̺̱͈̱̞͚͚̫̤͕̒͂̍̒̽̔́́̓̿͆̒̆͘̕͜͜͜͜͝͠ͅͅͅr̶̢̛̮̱̘̪̜̤̥̙̜̱̝͎̲̻̼̹͔̺̳̎̈͑͊̔͂̽̔̈́͂̊̏͗̑̽͋̋̋̌́͛̇̑̓͐͑̔̓̍̈̿̈́́͊͒͌̅̎̅̓̊̒̉̌̽̽͐͂̓̔̃̽̒̉͗̽̒̍̊́̒͑̋̈̚͘̚̚͘͝͝͝͝y̴̢̡̨̡̧̢̡̨̨̨̢̛̛̛̛̛̛͙̣̙̟͙̳̦̤̘̩̙̖̥͉̱̳̤̱̳̟͕̦̺̖̯͓̲̻͈̫͇̞͓̦̪͚̫̞̗̯͈̪̭̞̹̰̖̪̮͈͈̜͚̝͓̰͓̫̰͈̻̰͖͚̜̙̣̼̥̼̻͕̙̖̲̞̙̩͑̓̆͂̾̓̀̔̐̾͆̈͂̈́̃̒̾̏́͗̅͒͆̆̊̃̈́̇̎͐̅̑͒̃̿̄͊͌̿͗̎̐̄̄͂̉̋̊̅̃̾̊̾̈̀̽̊̄͑̈͆͆̆̿͌̋͐̔͌̾̓͋̋̐̒̃̀̅̊͂̿̓̾̇͌̑͐̿̄̆͛͐͋̎̉̎̂̊̎͛̇͌̏͛̄̄̈̒̃̔̒͛͂͊͑̀̽̄̿̆̾̾͗̇̓̇̇͌̒̀̿͆̿̌̐̑̒̇͐͒́̊̃̈̐̔̽̉̃́͒̾͌̅̕̚̚̚̚͘̚̕͘̕̕̕͘̚͘͘͘͘͠͝͠͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅ ̴̧̨̢̧̤͖̜̰̯̱̖̰̝̱͙̣̗̹̻̣̩͔͉̲͎̯̜̝̜̳̜̺̠̠͖̼̱̹͚̦̘̱͉͉͓̝̫̫̮͚̻̹̪̳̰̫̘̖̹̦̞̩͖͚̏̀͆̀̏͜͜ͅͅͅN̸̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̨̡̢̡̧̛͚͉͍̱̜̻͔̩̬̹̞͖̘̲̯͖̺͇̞̫̼̟̥̦̭̯͉̳͖̦͖̘̬͕̮̬͍̭̭͕̘̖̥͉̮̯̲̪̗̤͚̞͕̯̘̩̜͚̳̤̲͚͍͍̹͚̬̞̖͕̘͓̞̲͔̬̺̪̳̝̗̪̜̘̜̠̯͖̥̥̦̦̦̪̗̩͉̣̪͇͔͉̤̻̣̝̭̠̞̯̞͉̠̼͇̬̻͎̖̞͙̞̣̪̖̺̞̟̟̮̥̩͓̣͚͈̲̟̝̗͖͚̤̮̜̪̫̖̑̈́̅̓̔̃̈́̔̏̎͑͐̓́̋̉̋̎̆̇͒̈́͊͌̎͊̉̃̿̒̈́̓́͒́́̂̃͆͌͗̊͋̊̐̍̇́̀̿̓̉̈̏͋͊̾̈́̆̐͛͒̎͗̍͐̆̐̅͌̅̄͂̐͆̊̓̿̊͐̾̕͘͘̕̕̚̚̚̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅő̵̟̦̲̻̼͎͙̘̰͙̖̦̳͊̀̅̆̈̋̀̔̓́̂̋́́́̽̿͋͊͛̇͋̇̀̎̂̒́͆̏̏̀͘͘̚͠ 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̴̧̨̢̧̤͖̜̰̯̱̖̰̝̱͙̣̗̹̻̣̩͔͉̲͎̯̜̝̜̳̜̺̠̠͖̼̱̹͚̦̘̱͉͉͓̝̫̫̮͚̻̹̪̳̰̫̘̖̹̦̞̩͖͚̏̀͆̀̏͜͜ͅͅͅN̸̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̨̡̢̡̧̛͚͉͍̱̜̻͔̩̬̹̞͖̘̲̯͖̺͇̞̫̼̟̥̦̭̯͉̳͖̦͖̘̬͕̮̬͍̭̭͕̘̖̥͉̮̯̲̪̗̤͚̞͕̯̘̩̜͚̳̤̲͚͍͍̹͚̬̞̖͕̘͓̞̲͔̬̺̪̳̝̗̪̜̘̜̠̯͖̥̥̦̦̦̪̗̩͉̣̪͇͔͉̤̻̣̝̭̠̞̯̞͉̠̼͇̬̻͎̖̞͙̞̣̪̖̺̞̟̟̮̥̩͓̣͚͈̲̟̝̗͖͚̤̮̜̪̫̖̑̈́̅̓̔̃̈́̔̏̎͑͐̓́̋̉̋̎̆̇͒̈́͊͌̎͊̉̃̿̒̈́̓́͒́́̂̃͆͌͗̊͋̊̐̍̇́̀̿̓̉̈̏͋͊̾̈́̆̐͛͒̎͗̍͐̆̐̅͌̅̄͂̐͆̊̓̿̊͐̾̕͘͘̕̕̚̚̚̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅő̵̟̦̲̻̼͎͙̘̰͙̖̦̳͊̀̅̆̈̋̀̔̓́̂̋́́́̽̿͋͊͛̇͋̇̀̎̂̒́͆̏̏̀͘͘̚͠ ̵̧̨̧̡̨̨̢̧̢̨̨̡̡̧̢̨̢̢̨̡̢̡̡̡̧̢̨̨̢̡̛̛̛̛̜̩͙͔̩̘͈̤̼͈̘̞̝̮͎̭̩̭̲͖̦̞̲̦̻̦̜͎̙͓̳͎̭̟̗̦̭͎̯̙͚̖͍̱̟͍͎̯̣̤̹̭̖̺͖̞̟̹̰͈̮̯̱͉̻̥̪̘̫̫̜̤̜̻͈͍̼͔̩̳̩̭̙͓̘͔̪͍̹̦̟̰̲̩̥̳̯̙̖̪̦̖̩̘̺̼͉̪̭͈͉̯̝̲̗̰͖̮̻̟͚̜̖̺̺̪̱̟̺͙̲̻͍̭̝̦͇͕̜͖̯̦̻̮̥̦̝͈̠̰͙͔̫̼͇̲͈̗͇̠̳̮̳͔̭͎̜̣̺̥̬̱͕̗͈̙̠̣͙͎̫̠̝̫̟̭̼͕͚̠͇̣̘̝͇̝̞̤̻͈͇̞̺͍̣̬̲͚͍̲͉̟͖̠̝̤͎̝͍̙̹̜͓̲͓̺̮̬͔̫͆̆̈́̃̐̀̒̽̂̇̒͐̊̅͐͂̿̏́̐̇͛̈́͑̇̋̐́̆̽̎͐̋̿̀̋̈́̅̓͐̒̋̓͆̑̊͑́́̓͆̌̀͌̎̍͋͛̆̽̾̎̋̌̍͑̏̽̽̒̌̉͌̍̔͌̋̒̈́̓̒̈̽̈́͊̉͋͌̋͛̽̎͑̋̉͐͌̊̀̀̍͆̃̐̍̊̊̓͋͋̋̀̔͛̈́̏̂̐͐̎́̉͛̿̂̂̄̎̄̊̽̅͐̇̈̾̐̃̆͊̉̐̌̂͐͆̍̂̀̈́̿̾̊̄̄̍͛̈̾̔̋̍̊̿̋͗̐̈́̃̕̚͘͘͘̕̕̕̕̚͘͘̚̚̕̚̕͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅͅͅͅͅB̷̡̡̨̨̡̧̨̧̢̡̡̨̧̡̡̨̢̧̧̧̛̤̣̱͇͇̞̤̜̥͕͖̹̗̯̖̼̣̜̬̫̟̭̼̮̤̳͚͉͎̤̙̹̲̼͕̝͓̯̬̳̪͖̰̯̖͖̰̝̦̹͈̺͇͇̺̬̼̙͎͍̣͈̣͕͓͚͈̞̩̹̟͚̫̰̺͔̲̤̞͔̙͙̹̦͓̯̪̫̩̥̜͇͇͍̩͓͙͓̣̮͙͉͖̫̫̯̪̹͔̹̦͈̜̫̘̲͚̪̜̣̖̟̙̰̮̟̤̺̝̺̺̰͎̩̩͇̟̠̰͕̻͔̖͎̼̞̮̦̤̦̘͈̠̤̜̩̖̮̞͓̦͍͚̤̜̳̳̰̈̎̓̂͌̽̈́̄͊̑̀͌̎̃̐̿͋͋͆͌̍͒̏͂͌̔͛̇͑̽̃̓̽̐̅̓͗̃̓̈̉̆̂͗̐̔̈́̀̈́̈́̀͂̃̓̐̂̉̈̒͐͒̋͒͂͐̓͗̋̀̈̽̎̅͛̇̒̽̋͛̉͑̅͊̀̀͊̆̎̔́͊̆̔̋̍̓͆́̀̈̽̽͗̅̑̎͗̏̇̒̔̇͛̽́̍̂̉̀́̂͋̾̿̈̏̋̏͐̃̽̊͐͆̒́̔̓̒̍͂̉̐͗̓̓͂̏̑̔̔̎͗̓͐͗̅̅̾̉͂͊͆̾͗̕̚͘͘̕̕̕͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͠͝͠͠͠ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅừ̵̢̨̨̧̨̡̨̡̢̡̧̯̪̮̤̦̭͙͙̣̘̻̲̝͔̦̲͚͇̯͚͉̪̲̹͙̲͖͙̯̻̤͙̟̖̟̟̙̤͖̜̣͖̠̗̣̖͔͓͖̤͚͕͎̗̖̹̙̳͉̝̳̭͈̙̝͖͉͕̼̻͖͔̃̏̃̏̎͊̂́̈͑͛̾̀̈̊̿̉̂̽͂̆͐̈͑̑́̊̄̈́̂̾̓̀̀̂̋̅̑́̓̋̓̄̀͒̉̓̄͌̾̇̈́͊̋̇͛̇͒̈́̔̈̈͛͒̇̇̍͊̓͂̂̋́̊̊̽̆͋̒͌̂̅̾̋̚̚̕̚̚͜͜͝͠͠͠͝ͅͅͅŗ̵̨̧̡̨̡̧̧̢̢̢̛͓̯̼̤͔̪̳͕͔̪͙̜̗̞̥̤̩̹͍̫͕̫̰̱̦̱͕̰͉̪̖̝̗͇̞͓̥̰̩̩̬̜̩̭͔̹͓̜͚̥̹̣̖̝̯̳̲͚̜̯̼̰̲̝͕̥̜̗̱̜̲͓̣̖̖̹̹̮̞̮̖̪̱̜̖̼̱̳̣͕̹̭̤͔̝̼͍̼͔̹͓̪̀̈́̇̄̔̌̄̈́̂͋̀̉̈́̄̉̐̀̈́̒͊̎̅͂̊͒́̕̚̚̕͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅd̵̨̨̢̧̨̡̧̡̨̧̡̨̨̧̡̡̨̨̡̨̨̨̛̛̛̛͖͇̼̭̯̬̘͖̱͔͔͇̲̙͙͔̩͇͈̯̭̪͍̱̲̙̘̜͕̤̺̠͇̠͎̘̱͚̩̱̭̩̱͍̭̭̮̰͖̳̬̠̜̯̫̖̤̫̠̣̦͙̗͕̗̬̰̲̥͙̬̟̲̤̭̟̱̱̗̞͖̳͈̮͇̱̞͈̼̪͙͈̺̩̗͕͓̣͍͎̻̙̯̟̮̞̥̳̜̞̮͉͙̳̩̖̗̘̱̫̭̭̥̳͓̙̦̺̟̖̜͕̹̳̣̥̬̳͓̙͇̝͈̰̩͈̤͙̯͈͍̽̌̊̂̿̀̓̅̔͋̿͒͗͌̓̇́̍̒̾̐̇͊́̑͋̾͛̆̂̈́̐́͂͆́̊̇̈́́̈́̌͑͗̓̀̈́̀̀͛͌̈̂̔͆̀̋̂̒́́͋̋̓̎̒̆̋͌̀͊̒͆̍̔̃̑̽̂̔̔̑̈̿̇̾͐́̐̓̔́̀͛͋̑̍͒͐̄͂̀̀̾̊̔́̃͗͋̓̇͑͛̽̅̍̿͌̌͆͗͐̐͌̑̀̀͌̃̄̅̐̓̚͘̕͘͘̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅe̴̡̨̡̢̧̢̡̢̨̧̢̢̧̡̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̪̣̭̙̫̟̯̪͉̱̣͎̫̱̠͚̣̣̥̬̯̝̪̣͓̘̳̲̼̥̰̜̝̙̦͖̭̫̺̣̺̠͈̩̘̯̥͙͇̗͙̺̣̜͙̤̯̥̫͓͔̗̺̹̻̙̫̜̞̺̣̫̝̳̫̩̜̼̞͚̞̦͖̬̞̰̘̼̩͎̰̤̫̝̝͈͍͎͓̬̝̜̮̲̤̹̺͈͚͓̗͇̞͖̲͎͚͍̭̳̭̻̯̠̭̞̺̳̰̗̯̦̱͕̟̺̯̘̘̥̼̞̲͖͚͙̻̰̭̮͇̙͇̹̗̫̣̣̹͍͓̹̹͙̤͚͙̳̮͙̭̘̹̦̝̝̣̝̪̠͎̠̰̩͔͓̟̤̣̙̭͓͈̬̹̳̩̫͈͎̤̘̹̜̼͍̟̭̭͖̯̞̥͕̲͓͖̦͎̳̘̜͔̭̺͍͇̰̩͕͓̰̪͇͇͈̞̐̌̈́̂͋̒̀̔͋͑̂̽̀̽̐͌̒̾͐͂͒̀̈́̂̀̊̏̽̆̈̐́͊̆̀͛̋͐̈́̏̂͛́̔́̀̒̽͂̈́́̔̒̆͂̀͑͌̀͗̋̋͊̆͂̄̌͌̓̊̄̐͑̄̓̈́͗̆̓͆̈́̓͗̾͊̋̓̍̿̔̇̎̀̈́̾̉͑́̿͐̃́̃̽̓͑̈́̈̂͑̐̄̀̌̅̀̍̈́̋̽̾̿̒̆̾́̈́̊̉͛͂͋̐̎̍͒̀̒̑͌̽͌͌̊̋͂͑̆̐̆͛̈́̀̑̂̔̑̾̍̉̿̾͌͆̂̐̀̅̅͒͆̃͊̏̇̉̇̀͋͒̽̿̏̎̽̈́̿̉̀̈́͋́̃̂̽͆̏͊̐̃͆͌̿̀̀̀̒͛́̉̐́̎̃̈́͒̐̒̌̊̇̄͆͑͆̌̍̐̆̀̀̃̔̊̓̔̽̑̔̃̏̀́̒̏͊́́͐͒̇̒́̾̎̿͘̚̚͘͘͘͘̚͘̚̕͘̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅn̴̡̢̡̢̡̡̨̢̢̢̨̢̡̨̢̡̨̡̧̢̢̡̨̛̛̛̛̛̛̛̮̯̪͙̮̞̝͉̠̪͇͕̪̤̲̮̟͖̯͕͕̻̜̬͈͎͙̱̣̘͉̙̥̥͉̞͈͇̺̘̘̪̲̬̘͇̭͉̱͓̘̗͈̭̹̯̻̞͍̮͚̙̬̲̙̦̳͕̹̙̬͖̱̰̜͈͕̠̮͍͇̱̦̞̳̜̙̬̝̣̺̙̮̪͙̬͖̰̰̮͎̪̦͉̳̹̦̤̱̖̹̫̘̺̰͇̘͚̬͚͕̦̺̯͍̣̬̼̤͎͖̖̼͇͙̥̩̰̳̱̝̰̳͔̣̜̝͉̮̲̹̠̦̻͈̖̹̻̳̣͖̠͖͔̞̘̟̭̩͎̠̭͔͎̗̻̩̪͇͙̗̲̜̗̳̗̝̤̤̳̳̮͉̖̺̠̪͙͚̦͇̟͎͇̼̩̫͉̝͉̹͎̰̞̰̦̯͕̗̘͎͍͕̗͍̾̔̍͒͗̈̀̾͗̽̑͊͑̍́̔͗͑͛̍̎̎̂̄͂̎̍͗̔́̀̾̏̄̓̇͂̓͂̑̀͊̉̃͑̎̂̈́͊̒́͒̍̆́̄̈́͋̐̋͆̓̄̓̌̿͗̀̒̈́̈́̔̆̓͂̓̒̑̎͑̔͊̌̐́̍͆̐̽̽̄͂́͋͛͒̈͒̓̅̿͐̀̈́̈́̽̉͌̎̈́͌̔̍͋̀̄̋͌̍͐̈͒̓̄̔̌͊̒͊̀̌̎̑̆̈́͛̓̉̐̄̀͗̓͊͂͐̇͊́̆̍̄̀̔̇̅̇̑͆͆̆̐̒̊́́̐̽͛͌͊̈̒̇͂̓̓͊͛̈́̏̚̕͘̕̕͘͘̕̕̚̚͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͠͝͠͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅ
925 · Jul 2017
B0n3 4p4R7
POSSIBLE Jul 2017
There is Presence.  Presence....and there is Light.

“Where am I? What, what,  Who am I?  Am I alive or dead?"  

A suppressed thought makes itself known,
But the neural signal splinters like a bone blown

Far Apart,

Like how my world falls

The way a Cop knocks,
Aggressive *** Nap. bonaparte

Door sound off the hinges,
Safe within , Mi casa es fort knox
Torn apart and a bit Noid
but I’m off the binges,

Drugs gone for years, Ta this day I sew to mend the fringes
So cold my needless frost their tips in silver grips

But It's not over till I clipp the wings
of the Ego above the mountain
and Watch till it fall past ridges

Red sunset stays still while I cry sacrifice

Burn my past like a pagan offering,
measurement of change
Translates to suffering,
the kind the  attached mind brings with age
Like what gravity did to  lay ink to this page

Narrative of the self as a nature staff,
unattached, Barista Like i pour out my past,

To create or destroy, Maybe both
Phoenix rise I was borne of ash
Should I be watering these plants or murdering these beats
I can do both, Stand still as I grow up theese weeds
from under ya feet

Trace up your body, then fold round  like origami,
Hold you still forever, While we pour the waters of truth
Down your throat till you drowning
and crave nothing but the desert drought

I am Enkidu,  started and was born in the forest you so forlorn
I seek the taste, primal essence and grace,
Seem invulnerable to me, but  they lay waste

You offer the black death, while the government reaps of black debt

Living hand in hand with the shadow silhouette,
Sweet sweet  smell of tobacco cigarette
Held holy in hardworked hands

Impoverished Living hand in hand with the capitalist statuette,
live in ignorance staring at the stars
forget the front faced life
like a space cadet

I’ll  bring you out with the kind of light I emit
Green mixed with blue, hope and will brings true legit
Action, which moves you from
The darkest passion the mind brings
Desire so seems everlastinging
But antipode to Omniamorous offering,

Use discernment
there is that which is
Last like poison, but first like Nectar
Then Hard When you start
Hard work make a turn for the better

The search for truth, now sweet as a melon, careful i labor to not live as a felon
Beat never meta, caught you off guard
Trapped out from the top of the pyramid
Tap 5 mana and and a demon
Summon that  Donald trump card
923 · May 2022
Broken windows view Cranes
POSSIBLE May 2022
A Skelly with thick skin,
that's the way we grow again

How else is a skeleton
supposed to walk and grin

Together, talk and better
never seem to stop and sever

Connections

You have to open up some windows
To be present with a new borne crane

Unless you want the glass to break
Graceful in its twice over pass the lake

We fashion the past as a sacred bundle
Face it and carried even through the fumble

My tribe like fallen leaves
cast Aside

Scattered and palming shade,
last the vibe

what's left when the seasons pass my guide
Abide my tattered and clawing mass arrive

It's hard but I promise
I'm smiling behind my mask my guy

Realize nothing in a vacuum
It's an ever laced chain reaction

Why did god **** Cain and faction
Cause he wasn't able ; redaction

The burden is less
when you know how to share it

The falling of mist
Pulls back at the hips

Future proof as fallen soldierS
I'm getting the gist.
889 · Apr 2016
Alchemical ingestion
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
Change my blood into gold
Elixer of life
A toked up martyr
  I must be philosopher ******

to be
so magical I transform change
the same I re-arrange
invert thought bubbles to elipse to make a circle out of cyst

Wand and Air
like pen and paper
convert the blank page to the strange
till the shoobies get ****** at the deviant sage

Hidden , covered by enigma...

Sometimes I write so hard I might just
Rip ya like paper
the message of saviors,
so heavy it topples the rules
like when the they drop bass in a rave yah

but treble not in ear sight,
As it breaks the music can also protect
what an insight.

Quarel with myself a couple times
like Quicksilver and sulfur

Purification
dissolution
death
and ressurection
dissolve and let loose
the fatal connections


Become alchemist like a potter and turn the clay to a vessel

IGNITE THE SPIRIT LEVEL
OVERCOME THE STRESSFUL
NIGREDO
ALBEDO
RUBEDO
887 · Apr 2016
Avada Kedavra
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
I destroy as I write
painted movements upon the disease of blankness

fulfilling the open potential
shining through a darkened tunnel
fraught with the weight of culture's phantasm.

A projected collective
imbuing meaning and density leaving the propensity
to do more in the hands of the unconscious.

A generation  of dreamers caught  in a co-created nightmare

It takes a forceful shaking to wake them into waking, a kind of tremor like the earth is quaking

but stillness
still grips

those who would otherwise toss and turn

You've had your time, now its our turn

Interdimensional investigative procedure
Prepare your resume, for today you will be hired or fired

Welcome to the game.
Place noise in of hands of  those with silent faces
861 · Feb 2016
A LIST OF OBJECTS
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
A hungry Body
A pervading darkness
Guide of light
A rattle made of leather shaped as a turtle
An eagle feather
An offering
A mixture of sage and sacred chanupa
A wooden pipe with a carved stone-face
A shrine dedicated to Spirit etched with-Mitakuye oyasin (for all our relations)
Neurons
Fire
Lungs
A staircase Tunnel
A sleeping body
Ayahuasca
A marketplace to return to....
850 · Feb 2016
Fun in a Funeral
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
They say i’m creative as a reversed mime;thinking outta the box
my minds found a way to rehearse time while it stops the clock

tick tock
what time is it?

prison block – on some infinite minute ****.

neurons firing

pew

change of management declared- archetypal hiring–whoo
“Do you specialize in living positively?”
{I can try}
“Will you try to stay away from virus compositories?”
{oh me oh my!}

I live different lives as the same people:
go to the same church with different steeples.

Question the voice from my bed; oh **** am I dead?
tryn to lift my arms, but they filled with lead

where am I going and who have i led, to wander and ponder in the land of the dead

its this chilly necropolipse; filled with empty soul ships.

I can’t get warm here and so I fear

stricken by a paralysis , caught in the mists of myr

influenced by infected cysts, sickness adhere…

better deal quik through love metamorphosis
but I kan't…..—————-says who?
great big king boo!

he haunts me and taunts me into less than mediocrity

but its simplicity, don't deal with me, simply leave and then you’ll be free

of me and my moaning, *******, and pathetic groaning

but I’m simply freeflowing,

I guess I'm like an emo chick, dip in quick , then get out of it

like a quicksand pit you’ll stick quick – I do my job a bit to legit

while you sit and feel …………………………………………

……………………………this is some straight simple ****:

1+1= 2

but in my equation, I'm still left with none, no you'd think , but this ain't fun

“So leave!” I yell
“Get out of here!”

I’m lost and confused like a catholic queer
Am I sincere?

maybe

what morals appear?

when your without another and can't find your brother
simply steer clear quick!————————————————–>away from that skell *****

with his nonsensical lycrical pains

and paradoxical ego feigns

from left to up
side to side
always quik to hop
and hide n hide

non-attached….*******!-^-–<>re-attache these b-r-o-k-e-n__bits& p.i.e.c.e.s

so maybe one day you’ll do better than me

Just don’t listen to way i say and get away from me

EMO thoughts brought to light

need some ***- I think i might

oh wait , is this just a way for me…the pages in the journal get away from me

a psychiatrist in the pages….paid for free.

****, thanks ink, thanks journal, thanks ego and funeral

I just killed my ego , and it was the death of me.
838 · Aug 2017
Christopher Ryan Pickens
POSSIBLE Aug 2017
8/28

I still feel cold

Your forehead touching mine
held captive as you were
by your body’s new home,

A wooden casket

Felt so much, stoic past couldnt mask it
No breath, On my knees howling,
Body reaction analphylatic
Must be allergic to truth, Epi my body
please Save me so I can task it

Inside sight still Burns so hot
I'm melting out here,
must be made outta patchwork plastic,
Zinn man, can can you hear

Your body resting, a symbolic system
Forming a quietude of mourning moods ,
and murdered motivations, and somehow even inspirations

Friend still dead so I gotta tremble
Ritual require so we assemble, trouble is
Pain is an illusion , but how  do I
pierce this false Conclusion

Falling prey powerfully to this pervasive grief,
So still no vibrations This **** must be
an optical delusion

Still in disbelief and I still feel cold.

Our whole community perceptions formed by conceptions,
Creative community informed protection

A general order of existence, clothed in factuality
mood realistic, magnitude mystic
So focused on your life,
just so we could love and miss it

Cause The candle that burns
twice as bright
lives half its life
double finite

Like a falling star you crashed
Excited the red of my stop light
Walked up to the circle jerks
And hit me with a simple sound bite

“Who wants to be my best friend
and give me a cigaretee?”

Leap of faith trying to touch a fallen star,
You could be so blunt, people left with fingers burnt

Look at the sky purple light know right where you are
So subtle, always curious to what we could learn  

Hand over my heart
for 21 G=U=N Moments
You had honor.

I still have your rose,
Dead as you are,
withering beautifully

Just as cold as I am.
Christopher Ryan Pickens // Zinn City Music
https://soundcloud.com/zinncity
Rest in Peace
You will always be the best of us
POSSIBLE Apr 2018
The Flower of life
is only a ***** stamp
When the fake meditate
The power of my life
is a lock to un-clamp
Limited ken measured for separations sake
Knuckles to they chin like I'm Hitmonchamp,
Never fret the fake

They just noise like  graffiti i left above the homeless camp
Mans face broke my fist but spirit never break No shade darkens my  lamp Cause pure success is my stamp,
Failing upwards is my calling,
even i'm stifled by terrified moments crawling
upsidedown and it seem so late

ȼȺn wɇ ɉᵾsŧ sȺɏ fᵾȼꝁ ŧħɇ fȺꝁɇ?

Яэↁ ЄЎэↁ
for heavens sake but I work so hard,
never take a break, came from a sore but evolve at a constant rate
You seek example, so Skaldic lyrical battle plan,  let me demonstrate
I'm a handful the system wont ever understand.

When I look to they crew my gaze sweeps to castrate Betrayers already locked they fate Cross my path and bet I won't mediate
Set fire to you with my third eye make your whole family go blind
then wish they had a way to make time to rewind

Just one simple wish
offer sacrifice to the sight of Shenron
come ****** my dragon *****
hit me with the sacred question

and I'll start to ask back
so answer false You'll be Ripped
to shreds without a pause
and your name to never mention
unless you talking about the losers
of my mythic dragon brawls.

Son Goku,
stronger every time I fall

ₛₜᵣₒₙgₑᵣ ₑᵥₑᵣy ₜᵢₘₑ

f.
ₐ. l l
F.=A+..L 7

The power of the 7 lives within me
tattooed to my skin it was so gently
then rubbed it in this mystic medley

taste the song dipped in chocolate coconut bliss
like getting perfect head winning and I cash out my chips,

Right hand counting money with closed fist
wont amount to nothing but coming to blows quick
maybe that is still something cause it made my left hand
compose this

Free people history never written by chance
there is conflict but no real separate enemy
Feedback the loop till its a dangerous dance
and try to be a real friend to me.

May your days be blessed with peace
and your nights
with lust.

Go now, There is the door.
But Do you think that door leads to freedom?
or any other one for that matter?
ፕዘቿ ቻረዐሠቿዪ ዐቻ ረጎቻቿ ጎነ ዐክረሃ ል ፕዪልጠየ ነፕልጠየ ሠዘቿክ ፕዘቿ ቻልጕቿ ጠቿዕጎፕልፕቿ ፕዘቿ የዐሠቿዪ ዐቻ ጠሃ ረጎቻቿ ጎነ ል ረዐርጕ ፕዐ ሁክ-ርረልጠየ ረጎጠጎፕቿዕ ጕቿክ ጠቿልነሁዪቿዕ ቻዐዪ ነቿየልዪልፕጎዐክነ ነልጕቿ ጕክሁርጕረቿነ ፕዐ ፕዘቿሃ ርዘጎክ ረጎጕቿ ጎ'ጠ ዘጎፕጠዐክርዘልጠየ ሃዐሁ ጕክዐሠ ጎ ጌቿቿክ ፕዘቿዪቿ ርልሁነቿ የሁዪቿ ነሁርርቿነነ ጎነ ጠሃ ነፕልጠየ ፕዘቿ ኗዪልቻቻጎፕጎ ጎ ረቿልሀቿ ልጌዐሀቿ ፕዘቿ ዘዐጠቿረቿነነ ርልጠየ ዪቿዕ ቿሃቿዕ ቻዐዪ ዘቿልሀቿክነ ነልጕቿ ጌሁፕ ጎ ሠዐዪጕ ነዐ ዘልዪዕ, ክቿሀቿዪ ፕልጕቿ ል ጌዪቿልጕ ቻዐዪ ዘቿልሀቿክነ ነልጕቿ, ሠቿ ቿሀዐረሀቿ ልፕ ል ርዐክነፕልክፕ ዪልፕቿ ሠዘቿክ ጎ ረዐዐጕ ፕዐ ፕዘቿሃ ርዪቿሠ ጠሃ ኗልጊቿ ነሠቿቿየነ ፕዐ ርልነፕዪልፕቿ ጌቿፕዪልሃቿዪነ ልረዪቿልዕሃ ረዐርጕቿዕ ፕዘቿሃ ቻልፕቿ ርዪዐነነ ጠሃ የልፕዘ ልክዕ ጌቿፕ ጎ ሠዐክ'ፕ ጠቿዕጎልፕቿ ነቿፕ ቻጎዪቿ ፕዐ ሃዐሁ ሠጎፕዘ ጠሃ ፕዘጎዪዕ ቿሃቿ ጠልጕቿ ሃዐሁዪ ሠዘዐረቿ ቻልጠጎረሃ ኗዐ ጌረጎክዕ ፕዘቿክ ሠጎነዘ ፕዘቿሃ ዘልዕ ል ሠልሃ ፕዐ ጠልጕቿ ፕጎጠቿ ፕዐ ዪቿሠጎክዕ ጋሁነፕ ዐክቿ ነጎጠየረቿ ሠጎነዘ ነቿልዪርዘጎክኗ ቻዐዪ ነልርዪቿዕ ነጎኗዘፕ ዐቻ ነዘቿክዪዐክ ርዐጠቿ ቻዐክዕረቿ ጠሃ ዕዪልኗዐክ ጌልረረነ ዘጎፕ ጠቿ ሠጎፕዘ ፕዘቿ ነቿሀቿክ ዒሁቿነፕጎዐክ ጌሁፕ ልክነሠቿዪ ቻልረነቿ ዪጎየ ፕዐ ነዘዪቿዕነ ሃዐሁዪ ክልጠቿ ፕዘቿሃ ክቿሀቿዪ ጠቿክፕጎዐክ ቿሸርቿየፕ ጌሃ ፕዘዐነቿ ሠልፕርዘጎክኗ ዕዪልኗዐክ ጌዪልሠረነ ነዐክ ኗዐጕሁ ነፕዪዐክኗቿዪ ቿሀቿዪሃ ፕጎጠቿ ጎ ቻልረረ ፕዘቿ የዐሠቿዪ ዐቻ ጠቿልክጎክኗ ረጎሀቿነ ሠጎፕዘጎክ ጠቿ ፕልፕፕዐዐቿዕ ፕዐ ጠሃ ነጕጎክ ነዐ ኗቿክፕረሃ ፕዘቿክ ዪሁጌ ጎፕ ጎክ ፕዘጎነ ጠሃነፕጎር ጠቿዕረቿሃ ፕልነፕቿ ፕዘቿ ነዐክኗ ዕጎየየቿዕ ጎክ ርዘዐርዐረልፕቿ ርዐርዐክሁፕ ጌረጎነነ ረጎጕቿ ኗቿፕፕጎክኗ የቿዪቻቿርፕ ዘቿልዕ ሠጎክክጎክኗ ልክዕ ጎ ርልነዘ ዐሁፕ ጠሃ ርዘጎየነ, ዪጎኗዘፕ. ርዐሁክፕጎክኗ ጠዐክቿሃ ሠጎፕዘ ጠሃ ርረዐነቿዕ ቻጎነፕነ ሠዐክ'ፕ ልጠዐሁክፕ ፕዐ ክዐፕዘጎክኗ ጌሁፕ ርዐጠጎክኗ ፕዐ ጌረዐሠነ ዒሁጎርጕ ነዐ ጠልሃጌቿ ፕዘልፕ ጎነ ነፕጎረረ ነዐጠቿፕዘጎክኗ ርልሁነቿ ጎፕ ጠልዕቿ ጠቿ ርዐጠየዐነቿ ፕዘጎነ ቻዪቿቿ የቿዐየረቿነ ዘጎነፕዐዪሃ ክቿሀቿዪ ሠዪጎፕፕቿክ ጌሃ ርዘልክርቿ ፕዘቿዪቿ ጎነ ርዐክቻረጎርፕ ጌሁፕ ክዐ ዪቿልረ ነቿየልዪልፕቿ ቿክቿጠሃ ቻቿቿዕጌልርጕ ፕዘቿ ረዐዐየ ፕጎረረ ጎፕነ ል ዕልክኗቿዪዐሁነ ዕልክርቿ ልክዕ ፕዪሃ ፕዐ ጌቿ ል ዪቿልረ ቻዪጎቿክዕ ፕዐ ጠቿ. https://soundcloud.com/90551813/the-trumpet-plant
Its the end of life that defines it, not the beginning.
828 · Feb 2016
The drool of Compassion
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
Sit down at the table of compassion understanding is the new fashion if only we could fashion a way to undo these knots a way to be a dreadnaaught...or not

Give me  a way to move forward
A beautiful notion to move toward...

Human beings are creatures of desire
And they bend and twist as the endless require

So doth desire smile
As a creature of the moment
Its maw spans a mile
There is no lack of atonement

She walks the endless pathways of the body
And sings sweet symphony
Yet the truth of desire
Is dat she be de phony
Never apologize
Never explain
The chorus of a moment so linked with pain
These paradox we seen painfuly
And published plainly
Throughh Forbearance and friendship
This reality we tame , see?
795 · Feb 2016
M1ght b3 a Myst1k
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
All alone,
tilted head.

God’s vines fall
around what’s said

Entrapped in rapture,

Jungian shadows
wrap my stature

as

dreamcatchers hold
concepts captured.

Safety in this
sacred space.

Aromatic,
mystic scents

Pressure though

as psychonauts

try to find some


sense.

I may find myself

Playing with the moving expense of
changing past, present and future tense


I fear however

That I’ll waste my time on the fone
with the secretary of Offense

When all I really want to do
Is be singular as the mystic tense.
786 · Apr 2016
H̻͒̏͒ͦ2◕
POSSIBLE Apr 2016
I asked the rain
for healing last night
Amidst the mist of forest

It was confused
wondering how to clean
the inside of a closed form

My consciousness lifted
becoming spider web lattice

discursive fractal tree
spread like a blanket atop the forest

the rain dripping down my strands
unraveling  the knots life had woven

I melted and fell to the ground
to grow again as a Seed.
DREAM
POSSIBLE Jul 2020
Mmm...

Every soul is a raindrop
fall from sky to ocean
most hit the surface
to ripple and fade
but some ripples
(rip) become waves
so careful when
you be willing this villainess  script
the 97 igrets no regrets
so often we split
universe forging and smith
an I’m off to Egypt

mind morbid
sometimes
****** silly
sight been
searing
****** psilocybin serum

<Mythicalifornian/ation>
might have been
a son of Sam
but now I happen to hope
he’s found **** - luminous scope
rather sacrificial lamb
to roll up and ****

fingers like spiders
re-twisting helix like twizzlers so no outsiders
untwisting logic like Cicero updated outdated drivers
no ****
no really though
that’s dope
like holy diver
****-lighted self

sun is well
moon caught
call it a moonwell
moon sought
call it a moonswell
how soon
call it a monsoon

(they buymoney’s well
they liefunnycreate hell)

Is it that I get consumed by my work
or work to consume the clerk

Is it that I’m a leader
or I preach to lead the self ;
either way overwork
cause we ovastand
what it mean
To be a conscious being

I lord over time
it doesn’t lord over me
got that **** on lock
honest priority

with no real priors
been Skirttin on roads
with no real tires
I’m running I’m running so often off-roading incoming
I'm running I’m running I’m tired Im scratched

but see now we off the path
calc'ing chaos math sacred shapes and 'ometries

'Grow the mountain
'GGrow the trees

Mind and body manifest these
8 them mushrooms drank the tea
Found God and Action make the Free

...still eyes on shadow to oversee
see how’s that **** float over me
winding warping whisper free
darkness cold and forming we
mark of clover safety  be
but
safety make me nobody
stop
and I take one breathe

what is the difference
simmer.the.inference
silent.the.ignorance  
in
out
****.am.I.limitless
talking.is.frivolous
stop.by.pay.stimulus

Ganesh (shout)
shout....
refresh my syllabus (what’s about)
image of synthesis (written down)
**** I’m mischievous (ima clown)

breath in
breathe crown

Jesus (sing)
and it’s all around

redeem my sinfulness
(the talk and the walk)
sparing my infamous
guide all my kinfolk when
I’m lost in indifference
pray for deliverance

brothers and sisters we gotta ask
what’s the cost of the difference
[w]hen Liminal's lost is the difference?

my only preference, reverence-evidence
of my life and all of my testament, prevalent

{Discipline and Chaos}
develop the eminent american-experiment
Never-lose scope ; envelope intelligent sentiment

my, my design
down so close
finger prints shine
passing the fine approach
what’s broached when l align
chaos and order impose in my mind







̴̨̠̖̊͜Į̷̰̗͍̮̼̼̲̥̆͊ṋ̶̣̞̳̲̖͈̤̘̜͌͌͒̈́ṫ̴̨̢̧̠͍̩͈̻̥̞̿̇́͊̊e̸͌̅­̛̼͈̜̱͎̯̗̺̹͈̆l̶̢͍̗̞̱͔̣̅̑͌͑̇̚͝l̸̫̜̼͍͔̘͙̫̍̈͋̿͐̑̎͝͝i̸̡̛̠͚͉̫͚̝̦͔g̴͌̈́̕͝­̥̬̰̰̹̋ȩ̷̭̳̳̳̹͕̖̌̇͌͋̀̒͗̓̈́͜͠n̴͚̲̭̥͙̫̺̄̓͗̂̄̈́̈t̵̜̦̲͎̣̠̿ ̸̛̰̺͔̭̼͈͆̓̊̒̓d̴̡̛͓̺̭̥̗͚̃̄̌̒̃̅͐͒͋ě̶͈̗̭̥͔̒̾̍̒͛͝͝ş̴̛̮͚̥̝͓̙͊͂̔̿́̄́̄­̰í̸̧̺͚̬̹̫̮͖̬̱͒̀g̴̨̨̭͉̺̮͚͊̌̆̽̕ṉ̴͓͚̭̥̘̖̲̲̋͛̀.̴̘̙̘̣̮̣̙͉̺͔͆̕
trauma healed
now I’m ******* rediculous
how the **** can I think of this
off the cuff with my instantaneous
transmission of knowledge
but some are to slow
hear it as words
one by one
when I’m speaking feathers and flight
dove by dove
and drove by drove
from coast coast and coast to cove
POSSIBLE Mar 2019
(>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> <('-'<)
I COMPLETED MY MASTERS TODAY (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
I COMPLETED MY MASTERS TO SAY (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')> (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
I COMPLETED MY MASTERS TODAY.
3/6/2019 (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
Skelly (>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
(>'-')> <('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
<('-'<) ^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
^(' - ')^ <('-'<) (>'-')>
<('-'<) (>'-')>
<('-'<)
No more crying, a lot less pain. WO hoOO
740 · Feb 2016
Mountainmedit-cation
POSSIBLE Feb 2016
I sit atop a mountain and beneath a tree reveling in ecstasy as I gaze upon the divine.

It is here that God chose to experience itself.  From the snow
dusted slopes, to the lightly coated trees, all is as it should be.

My eyes journey from the frozen water particles to the plant life struggling to keep its heat above a crystalline sea, and onward to the mist that enshrouds the mountain….I cannot help but stare in wonder at the spectacle of god presenting itself in its many fractal forms.

Solidified energy falls softly
in an attempt to build itself ever higher.  

The transference of purity puts on a show for those souls with open eyes.

Above me is a comforting blanket of particles,
falling, crying out as they land
“I am!”

Emanating from the most minute pine leaf to the mountain itself arises a silent shout of existence.  It is here that I may be at peace, with the ever present reminder that everything simply is. How would it be if a snowflake judged itself…would it be judged by its tumultuous formation?  how conclusive it's landing? or the quality of its travels?  

Nay, it forsakes judgement because its perfection is stated quite firmly
in the present moment.  Here above the cities

and in the mountains it is cold.  

Paradoxically, it is here where I am stripped bare and proclaim myself warm and free.  Thank you life.
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