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Defining hunger
I become metaphysical,
trying to locate me.

A pain transcends
space and time and I wake
between the words.

I was not there
where the honey spells doom.
Death has many doors.
i read somewhere that when

they discharge a patient, that

has overcome this Taker.

there is a local hospital that

plays: "Here Comes the Sun"

by George Harrison.

there are true healers among us.
They shall say of 2020, when it's done

nobody forgets a year like that one,

this one, with you in it,
never been one like it,
fractally speaking, on this scale of perception.

The demographic target of Covid 19,
and I share periences from some years sortalike this,  like 1961,
but that isn't global, that was national,
the summer, mostly, then
1963, the fall,
those days got global, a bit,

1969, the autumn, 1970, the spring,
and all those
tied in to now by way of psychedelia, and post war blues
odyssey of a sort, walking to Chicago scheduled,
through the October Moratorium, burlap sack of
peyote Wuwuchin season, then Earth Day 1, in San Jose,
half a time, half a year in men's measure,

those days were more cosmic than global...when I consider

I knew the way, that far, at that time, those were
strange days;

then I disappeared.

Now, I reappear, just to say, the way

I got here, got me this far, but as Granny Cook,

from the original Angelus Temple amen corner,
click,

she said " we all need discernment", then

Job called for a referee ee ee ance refer to
Voltaire - define your terms ..

dis cern the terms of our agreement, reader.

This map leads here. 2020 April, it is a meme

forming link in the evolution of the global brain
holding AI

accountable for each idle word, every good nobody got,

give it again, doit doit now, we missed. Hamartia, ha, try

umph, and we are rolling once more right past confused Camus.
1954.

These are the last old days, new ones are emerging,

after all we know finishes shifiting into next before our seeing eyes.
Meditation of Marcus Aurelius audiobook is full of hard-sharp ideas. You need days of nothing to do to digest the good parts. I tell this to my friends who have 1200 tv channels and all they do is click
Baiting master critics, come ******* pi tyed to Beanie Baby auctions
from 1995... old bb cred be called anarchisic auto did act-ism did do done

get out the way boomer budsomine, we done.
Give the kids the bombs.

Serious or humorous, or amourous, or mysterious

thrillers, puzzlers, riddlers
hero saviour feminine wiles, Jael's nail, at one point

intime intimate clang rang human-ity's little brain,

at a granular level barely perceptible to a naked child,

much less to one circumscribing rules or orderly grammer
hammar
pre
positioned arrangements of raw material, each quest has filled this horde.

lines of lines in OneNote format,
replicate
to plain text even toned audio to be pleasant when spoken

at ease, you asked me if I knew a reason for war, any more,

and I said no
you know,
by now, I took part in several sorts of wars, two ... three, with guns
and knives,

lives... we live a life in the mind of every person who believes we
know one another,

all the me we see in those we think know us not,
these are living words a-ranged on a plan plain sans dis
couraging words. hear hi you silver and say

how stupid was that, but it worked,
better than minecraft, fewer rules, in my realm

my best black friend worshipped Silver Surfer, I just remebered...

as good as any on tv, and virtually indistinguishexistting wish able

from a Hogwarts dorm, or post first Wuwuchin discussion among the
old men in front of the new men, who stood tall

ready to take the old mans burden,
he say
hey ya'll heh yall, peace beyon' ye now,

see some how say I see how I see how I see how

Hia watha had song for ever's single season

after we are born we live and learn and die, or
after we are born we live and are informed to be a we

we imagine,
as we age, when comes a time we say, war is stupid, and you all
knowit knowit knowit gnostic snot 'snot 'snots

dripping through the NAND NAND NAND gates mr. feynman
wasn't joking, yo

Cal local, hitchin' highway one, for fun, nothin' to do but wonder if

the future is worth waithing material being a waiting thing

or a wu wei thang, watch thise, one blow, hammer time

see. In a word a thousand stories, in a picture a mere thousand words.
Who can hold the wind in his fist, i wonder why I love that line so much..
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