1h Traveler
"You don't understand the value of money"
Actually, I don't understand the avid belief
With which people believe in the value of money.
Objective realities seem always to suffer
At the hands of our intersubjective stories
One day when the nations crumble
And the financial system is obsolete
I beg to see a banker hoard dollars
The power of belief
If only we could use it towards other things.
The progress of the species
And intelligence that is measured
Without a system of grading.
Stories guide our lives
Are the new religions
And we live out our lives
Not knowing
What falls outisde
Of the collective understanding
Of the stories of our time.
I am the deafening
In the calming
Of their careless whispering
Echoing from the safe places
Of parallel universities

Mine are more
Than mere protagonist words
More than words that have less meaning
Than the eggshells
Walked upon
These are my words
  Right or wrong
And still going strong!

And I will love you all to death
You victims
You snowflakes
Young hearts of unrest
Say what you will
Let it all out
Take a big chance
Stand in your safe place and shout!

Then you will know
What free speech
Is really about!!
Traveler Tim
In this vast Universe of ours;
That is made-up of I ams

There is an I am looking for you
like a beautiful colorful balloon
It whispers softly; I am you

It is gentle, it is kind, it is loving
and wise, all it ever says is I am you.

The day you give a name to it and make it
your own, that is the day you step into the
wonderful unknown
Well shoot the dog
and bark at me
I threw away recycling

I'm in my car
down the road
not doing any bicycling

My car's not electric
my clothes dyed and stylized
made of combed bleached cotton

I throw away a lot of food
its not gone bad or expired
and no, it isn't rotten

I'll live as I want
no one can tell me different
knowing the best for every instance

Doing perfect symbolism
forgetting any/and
all substance
It would appear that the future is somebody else's problem :\
Living in a world where "how it appears" is far more important than any "actual substance".
  2h Traveler
J Klein

In a dark room with a window
Isn't that where we all sit?
With Just enough light from the moon to see the dust particles falling like snow; returning to their hiding places
Blanketing the world around us and disappearing into the darkness
Waiting to be stirred up again
when the self-portraits that line our walls come crashing down
(those painted by the architects of a world that feels so foreign at times)
But still, there is the moonlight,
and once our eyes adjust to the darkness, there is enough to notice
that we are not alone
Enough to see the moonlight glimmer in eachother's eyes as we stare at our self-potraits; hoping that they'll come crashing down again
Patiently anticipating another beautiful snow fall
it is not possible
to stay the same.
there is movement!
we are all
meant to move.
i am still me -
just different, maybe
a brighter version.
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