They said our 20s were supposed to be easy
They never said that i would have to
Count backwards from one hundred to
Curb a breakdown
They said sedation will calm you
Down
But no one ever considered
That my neuroticism is what gave
Me my power to write

No one prepared me for the nights
I dont remember
For the car accidents that happened
But never really happened
The accidents that only existed as scars
On my car
That my splintered mirrors
Only showed a fraction of my illness

I was never supposed to be the person
To leave the party early
Because there was an anomaly in the wallpaper
I was unable to ignore

No one prepares you for the enemies
You make of yourself
Or the holes in your memory
Where your dignity leaks out

I never knew I could tell the time
By counting my tears on my tile floor
And that  springs of my
Bed would twang the sad anthem id never sing

Because i was bloated with
The probability that
My anxiety was
Scrawled on my skin
That my anguish was apparent
And my life floated in a glass
Half empty
And ever-transparent

I believed
No one would want to be with
Someone with so much baggage
I had to check in in order to get on a plane

Ive spent my 20s on the verge of
Implosion
I was never meant to
Crave sterility
And the absence of emotion

What if my mispoken words
Were perfectly aligned
With the trajectory of my life
And that I was meant to
Teach people
Through this story
That even the
“Wrong words come
Out right”

Im just a liar and a theif
I steal **** and lie about being free
Im not a hippie like i once was
When the world kills your dream
Maybe this isnt just all that it seems
Everything seems to be dead
Like the future generations ahead
I shouldnt give up they say
But thats all they have to say
No point
No lesson learned here
Were all broken
These words are being mispoken
Into a fake world
That seems not to care if i was dead
I could **** myself now
And no one would even dare to make a sound
This is the 21rst century
The place where we truly lost the way

bad work ethics makeup for all my perfections
clean ordered pair broken into a lot of mispoken words long ago
an admission of missing this bond is telling the past its gone while holding on
with undead hands bursting open with new fingers
fingers ripe , and pulsing
alive
open and scarred
waving at nostalgia

funny how it ends so quickly
when the beginning seems
to last an eterinity and then some

all it takes is one missed foot step
or perhaps a mispoken word
or maybe just one text read out of
context to send the inevitable spiral
down the ******* drain

i wish that i cared more, that i cried
more than just three stupid, simple,
stunned tears, not because i have lost you
but because you have lost me and i
can't quite understand what makes you
think that i am deserving of being lost

i will stay awake and stare at the spot
where you told me you wanted to spend
a life time staring at the universe with me,
i will stay awake and wish that my phone
would vibrate with your name on the screen,
i will stay awake and i will do absolutely nothing
because the ball has been in your court
for so long that it's deflated and brittle and
all it does is land with a thud on the ground

i will stare at stamp ridden hands and remember
how you stared at me and saw nothing worth
saving or having and i will cut the strings between us
and wait for the wind to whisk me away

sometimes i check on you
to see if you're still where i left you
where i met you
in the past
in the last bits of my adolescence and memories

in the renderings of broken dreams
and silly nightmares
when things aren't what they seem

and sometimes i think you meet me there too
...to see if im still broken
or lost without you
to see if i had mispoken
when i spoke of being through
to see if i was just mad and didn't know what to do

sometimes in my dreams
i'll let you love me
and i let you hold me
and i'll let you kiss me
and unfold me
because i know you miss me
and we're with no one to scold me
with no standards to uphold me

sometimes i miss you
so you visit me in my dreams
in between the scenes of the seams
you look for me in her
and you look for me in me
in places that are obscure

because we are unable to be
in this more than real life
because decisions you have made,
so you look for girls like me.
to one day be your wife

one of a kind
so although you look for me
you know you'll never find
the woman that i'll be
the woman that i've become
who'd you thought one day 'd have your son

the girl you see in dreams
is no longer yours
is no longer front and center
is no longer fore

you see the girl in dreams
and although you slip between
the cracks of all the seams
sometimes you'll get a look
and it'll make you feel a gleam
and other time's you'll get a peek
i see it when you sneak

you see me in my dreams
you travel through this fine line
to see me in my mind
to defy the realm of life
to see me one more time

Grow win groan… mark off/28jul2022, upgrades check…
I  said I would, if I believed I could, gain, that actual
ever interest turning every fifty years, on unpaid
Jubilees among the feeble minded,
all of the people, some of the time.
- Interesting times, since ever I was aware
- compounding mistakes as hates, oy vey
- Travail, travel, wanderer drawn away
- Covid positive
by an un-listed wind,
an anomoly
on a nano
scale
- not that either, I lost count, yes
weight as value - {always} a war making ideas heavy,
salt thirsting from inside the wall, the system
makes the body drink so I may think, all is well
with my soul.
Weight-wise, I am alive,
worth then is measured
in might as might may prove choice of - el, yes, well
el, we all nod, we find the sound early to disting-wish

so. way say it, we are right our way, we drink
from our own wells, tanks we make, when we may.
We save on the surface the sheen, squinting eye tech
see in snow pieces of eight,

right
-- self assembling nano tech with a
built
in
programing language. But, I add, in my mind
but, on or off- but on, in breath
the living things are
running programs
built. Built in ifery ever, if the system forms,
the system must be activated or nothing occurs
to you to
bring
life
--- I'm not clear, is right conscience or conscious, with use
of science sense signals set
to know
when
intentional design is a tribe ID-word.
- we designed this thing we are in, or on, or about/
- maybe
(rules against saying intelligent design rule the teacher,
not the peacemaker, being minded to know all the magi-tech,
and more, when it comes to rules
in love and war, life,
per se, ain't fair.
Pay the piper and the mind that tuned the whistle
in my denture
to this peculiar signal)

morought-othephic resonance vector infection- Þ
check
genome editing crisper- thorny issue
check
Þ
humanizing pigs, honest.
craig ventor lifemaker?
He is known
for leading the first draft sequence
of the human genome
- using a mind formed after the bomb.
- there is a mark in time, for each first time.

tools, yeast synthesis, is this a war?
Physical war being planned
against our eukariotic soul mother, brother

is this
from Wonderbread,
an antibiotic problem or mere remaining wrong ideas?
Is it like…
cancer - or Chaucer in the shade, as the lackeys towed that
barque, 'n'**'st that bale, bo andoncha know
nobody steals a $400 bale o' good Montana hay for no reason…
there was a needle in that role,
a piercing maddening cross-referrent occurrence implicated
as interference pre'ferencing prefer not all you wish,
pre-referencing the author's op-own imagined experience…
meaninglessness is hard to market.
- I already read the writing on the wall metaphor
- I know the names I'll find, I just
- can't remember those two.

---checksums all the way down if/then/else
find a way to live.
Identify the man you were, read him in.
When he's his old, he'll seal the exploit.
Cancer decides, for itself,
that's all I can make from the confusion here,

there must be some kinda way outa here

You recall, said the Joker, to The Thief
meaningful work.
Guiding to death.
Shall I solve your meaningless ness, or my own?
Or might I

find the meaning built in,
that black box with the built in
programing language that
Singularity University guy said is so important,
the built in
programing language that
is so important,
the built in
programing language that
is so important,
the built in
programing language that


… interest, drew me, what drew you?
compounding
Life. Me, too.
Divine interest in life, especially the mortal aspect,
as pertains to life and godliness and all,
that came with this acceptance
of dominion, within the bubble I am pre-pressured
with somewhere
- so excited- jumpy-ohshit-spot
- runs
between plumb and puredy **** sure.

Having entered again the as-if realm, that m on the end of real

means money maybe maybe not knot ex-acted
see
a door? a narrow way few see? mmmm
Follow or flee, ennui, as for me,
I believe I've heard treasure is truth.

I dare be, yond all I ever knew, to make answer-able
prayers. I be for no other reason my reasonability
allows, but to trouble the water and watch it settle
- silver screen in the thymus meme-ory device
Sno-globe meditation technique, practiced in secret since…
who knows, but crystal ***** did do something.
People can look at sno-globes for ever,
and never grow weary of the novelty.

For some, simple is good, good is simple.
God is light.
Where light is…not
nothing is.
Evil thing in my mind, you have been certified nullified.

Wind war? I inherited the wind.
I know why the broad Sargasso sea is so still, willo'mywinds
whisper
Peacemakers come from homes troubled in the making.
The fecting up of the Peacemaker, protrudes
effective peacemaking is more
preclusive
unsettling,
Dear Rhea rumbling at more
pressure boiling for her to loose some
air.
Cultures sharing antibodies for old evils.
Once the evils men imagine are exposed,
refreshen the air. Take another hit,
message accepted,
we can handle those
acting-as-if the losers won,

but none need lose, for life, per se,
in the realm of mega-we,
life is seen
most precious by all men.

Some men may dare to despise their own flesh,
(despise means not look at, spek means look at, in many tongues)

however,
never shall life despise some men and look kindlish at others.
Salt, be salt, water, water, you, you
-insert Markov blankness
life has proven itself in you. Be or not is not the quest.
Go, be more alivening, is the quest.
Be a little leaven, a viral bit of peace,
just past understanding,
well within reach.

Be alive, and where you live, make peace so life may
may -be empowered to- make peace so life may
dub thee Troen Ridder
truth-be-told, teller
maker-of- peace so life may
increase abundantly good forever
for no better reason

than if you had your own way we would be friends.

Search for a video of sanctioned war in germ terms
eleven days from minimum

survivable dose MSD

to total ******* and

destruction of both sides, unless
the bubble of all they have learned can be

pressurized, from the insides,…
Thanks, yawn. stretch, sneeze
Pop.

I heard about Alamogordo. Thanks for that, too.

rightnow. what does fear of not knowing a known

feel like, suffering wise, scale of 1 to 10?

How about (odd phrase, eh) we suffer, instead,
the fear of the un
known

Nova Sanctorem sorta stuff. Book learned
spells mispoken by orphans

sifting through the ashes of all that went before,
enchanting, if one child finds a drum,

safe from the fire in the secret place,
child strikes the drum one time

wait
echo

Did your home place echo?
During day, or during night?

In my desert, it is both.
- go to where stories lie at rest.
With this drum and my echos,
we may finish your migration

Walk a mile with me, let me help you
with your bag,
your thing, trip, scene

Remember then?
Enchanting times with different echoes

Ancient, old as dirt, snake clan secret
extreme mental challenge trials.

Now. What's the missing or broken
ness you all are murmuring

how about? May I?

May I understand comprehension of perceptions
in the interest of interesting times,

which, when I was told that

"may you live in interesting times", is
alleged, an Imperial curse,
which, first,
by then, I had all ready taken if-that for
granted as good will toward me.

I considered it diligently
I sought the sweet influence of Pleiades,

I did. Lucky Luciano and the Polish word Lekka

Luck is a factor if luck is originally
onto logical epi stem strateg-ic
clear light, magi-tech-wise.

There is evidence. The rocks bear my significance
-in 2022
If I can, try sign if I can, and no sir not can sir
but breathe sir
censor, sweet sense or else

the most benign of the self-righting models
to embody
the six spins in one bubble.

could stumble and fall and have no means to right,
get the signal, right itself, per se,
if wrong fail of function better next time…ping
we wer- yea, verily ver-ifity confirmed
it-ify-ing evil, first
really.
Life in mere terms,
words live here, we know
Intentional wrong precedes right
in my experience of living while waiting for you.
but once you have a grip on evil
as a thing in your own realm,
under your dominion;

then, don't miss a wink.
sleep tight, don't dis-integrate and wake up crazy.

When Ezekiel saw the model, if he saw the model,
he'd, he 'ould have been well and truly
amazed, aclaimin', in awe, I saw

"wheels within wheels within wheels bubblin'
bib-lin' bubblin' in my soul"

banjo and fiddle, painful for an orphan
yearnin' to learn ttdrr drum that drum

My drum. The drum I found in the secret place
I knew was there, after the fire.

-----
Ah, Christmas, the message with its own,
built in medium to grow in with no competition.

The least suspected are all infected.
That Usual Suspects, all those sick social memes, as if

the war of numbers was a game for cannon founders

Krupp and whom, Red Shield in the ghetto?
I don't think that makes
all the sense in the world.
who was Warburg…{question or mark of timing}

-- we had things between scenes, glyphs, right
let's have a gliph,if we edit- I am this-Þ, as an after thought
Þ is the th sound among certain ancient tongues,
deafness separation and blind singers grown wealth in wine.

The act has formed another wedom,
and we have joined them on fi, okeh, fi-semper
in fiduciary, and rests, in truth compressed
Trust. On the dime
flip. Truth rests.
On this page again, a different me,
indeed, as different time, I'm
certain, fluidity of space, currents

swirling up three dimensions, six ways
measured from now at the center, once,

now at the edge, stretching one point,
to a pivot,
turn around and wonder what we do,
we mortal watchers, consuming life to live…

questing questions ion-
state, condition, or action, quest
quaerere "seek, gain, ask"

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=quest>

Can you think slowly? I can. Several volumes back,
we, discovered Jello-timespace, blinkable
and rubbable dry bubble eyes, murine
is accessible, state conditions or act

as if I were a maker of peace,
on the grandest scale,
would I fret living
for no reason
but one I made up, from bits of others,
made up from matters cogitated to troubled
state conditional actions
made up, fantasized, built to imagine going past,

a mountain of a man, big bad Yohan,
mean, mean, mean man,

I mean it, always.

6-19-2022 2200
- not so long ago, then
Father's day, lotsa laughs,

little error allowed, the fineness,
sorting racist fear from awareness,
the culture does produce to patterns,
common genetics, tend to produce
select models of all the options,
over and over and over again,
a loss
a complete misconception of my reason
able faith, applied, no lies, only big stories,
yes, I cannot remember what was real
and what was what I would have done,

then I remember the gun, I did tell that
guy with the gun
to stop. And he did.

Then the other guy, the one with the
shot gun, he has in my face,
and I am ready,

see, I say, to me today, I am ready

if I were you, you would think nothing
p-- I am too
tired and slightly drunk to care,

of course, the course is parseltongue tested,
listen, hiss, you know, the warning,
I own this space this time,
the serpent says to me,
I laugh and stomp it,
I made that snake,
it was not real.

You know how I feel,
daring, don't give a dam
gonna do another show,

rock and roll reality, believe me,
we have the Sisyphus's, happy
engine wound up and ready,

but Sisyphus quit.
Got to the top and said, that's it
I quit.
And time stopped in that sector.

Go look.
Nothing changes and Sisyphus
is happy as Hell to have nothing to do.

I want something cooler, reader five,
blackbandit-double-ought shot
pick a sigel jelly sidgil  sign damint spel chek
you know what I mean, magic it sigil -right
I guessed that.
My son in law cringes at my cultural crassness.
I think jews come in more recognizable patterns
than cultures that abandoned the marriage restrictions.

"At least --- did not marry a ------" Oy, right, mix race,
half-breed
race as a what, eh?
what we weigh is race, we do not know,
they said we know, but we don't so, no more, race
is a wrong idea,
not right.
The flavor, the leaven and spices and plagues of
cultures, idea - a we of one earth
- call Covid leaven,
- we all been co-leavened
- we all share simbionts,
- earth is our home and our calling is to be good.
- Spirit inspire expire ssssssss
that is a people, idea that shapes a people
cultures, symbiosis chimera are we, carriers
post all we all survived, we are carriers of all it took.


Quiet, the ride, holy silencio, yohan let it be son,
grow old and burn your pages/
slow skip staged events…

Okeh, from the beginning I am the auth-oth- or that
maker up, of my faith, author and glosser, shiner, finisher
on elements at work in melody and har,mmmmoney
echoes, eeeee
we agree, that is no reason to dare see it so,
we are all, by nature's god, double-minded,
doubt not is a trick of the trade,
ɤ thistledo-find a phoneme that fits kid
unify, un yonder run un if un if un if I die I knew
you know, knowing good and evil, was the plan,

nothing was a secret, once in a life time you may know.

Dear GOD,
I just have this one last wish before i'm gone
Please help me give my mother the happiness she deserves...
...the happiness she deserved but never got
Help me give my mom some of the best times of her life
Help me serve my mom to the best of my abilities
She has always been my pillar of strength and support
She is my best friend..
..my confidante
..my guide
..my philosopher
..my true critic
..my ultimate hero
The sacrifices that she's made for me..i can never forget that
And yet there have been times when i haven't been quite as greatful as i should have
At times i've mispoken to her..
..misbehaved with her
And i will always regret that
I wish i could've turned back time and changed that
I've seen my mom fight for me
I've seen her suffer for me
I've seen her pray her heart out for me
I'm deeply indebted to my mom
And no matter how much i do i can never repay her
Mom...i've never told told you this but today i want to tell you that i'm deeply ashamed and sorry for all the wrongs i've ever done to you
You're blessings have brought me this far in life
So GOD...
As i humbly bow down before you with a sense of remorse and repentance in my heart
I beg before you
Please keep my mother safe and healthy
Please cure her ailment
Please fill her life with unlimited joy
Please transfer all her sufferings unto me
She has suffered enough
I can't see her unhappy even for a moment
Please GOD...
...listen to this humble plea of mine.

where there was shortage
there is surplus
whers there was famine
now there's feast.
Where there was doubt
now grows a burgeoning belief.

Regret is a pack of Coyotes;
A howling dirge of cacophonic noise.
But, relief, and repentance
they are a dampening field.
A wall at which every single mistake
and mispoken lie, is forced to yield.

I am led to wandering
and diverted like a river flow.
But no matter the barrier
or engineered feat
I am steady going
ever onward
towards the valley of belief.
And If you believe it
you will receive it
faith is only as strong
as the angle of descent.
I am steady going downward
and I know that at the bottom
I will find paradise.

I got these
Stale wounds,
Cut open -
Mispoken -
Blood soaked in,
Subsume.
I don't feel
What's real
Again.
Slip by and just pass
Like a sail with no mast,
And you're trying to get past
The past
Because it hurts more
Now in the present.
My brain is more dead
And insane
To refrain
And reframe -
Just to end up more poor than a peasant.
I pleased myself,
Released myself.
Just lost the keys
To free myself.
Chained up,
And bound
By my beautiful face
That only keeps its frown.
And I want to die now
Here's a ******* countdown
To a new year,
Play it by my good ear
Sit here,
Right there,
And contemplate
The insurgent hate
I have for myself.
This is the depressive lock down.
Lose it.

Plot twist...how does painful suffering bring about success how do you use your trauma to propel you into a successful space how does your trauma make room for you and open the doors that wouldn't otherwise open how does your pain become a key that unlocks your destiny you have no idea of my past but take a good look at me and don't underestimate my history logically you may think my life began with a golden spoon however soon you'll be ****** into an ugly tale of travail that would make the tear ducts of your eyes swell there'd be enough water to make a sail boat sail
I choose the pace of a snail so you could feel each tap of the nails that held me hostage my pain lasted for years yet the reason is unclear don't sneer let's be clear as mud you be the judge stand in front of a chair your mom is standing there judge and jury surely a real crime has been committed some one drank the orange juice who did it in the same chair that I ate in my fate was sealed in  chasten
I refuse to hasten this was my life for years save the tears theres still more to go and I'm purposely going slow do you know what it's like to have food in the cabinet and you can't have none of it how about learning the difference between cereals sounds unreal I'm not going to chill my doctors keep promising this is the way to heal and I ain't missing no meals imagine having to steal applesauce yeah the ones in cans yeah the government brand called again to stand in front of the chair to recieve my mother's stare as she sware she brought us here shed take us out there wasn't any doubt she had the clout she was about that life imagine the days we were locked a way during the hottest of days upstairs without any play then you may get a glimpse especially if you were whipped for taking sips from the bathroom faucet and the only cause was because you took it upon yourself to pause my mom threw paws to get us from the sink less than a blink that door was open and it wasn't what you were hoping I wish I joking or mispoken but this is my history and its dear to me it makes me me I can recall being locked in a unfinished basement minutes spent this was punishment maybe that's why I cried the night they locked me in a cell I grew up in what felt like hell a childhood was lost in this tragic tale I go the pace of a snail so you can feel each tap of the nails that held me hostage accosted daily with pain that would drive a normal kid insane imagine the fear when I had to return here not sure of mothers mood imagine the fear that exudes from an eight year old without the normal scold or how cold I felt my mother was was she on drugs did she drink how low did she sink thats what I like to think when I would get beat with everything but the kitchen sink there were two by fours iron ores and detention cords for chores and possible bore and although I swear that I'd never make my daughter stand by the chair I have no idea how to get there this is the pain I bare as I reflect on my kitchen chair 30 years have passed and I'm finally amass the strength to take a second look I'm killing the childhood crook I wish my mom could read my book she's my child hood crook....