Dilution risk exists for nearly every
     Money and asset on this planet now.
          Dilution risk happens when a person’s
               Share in an asset is decreased due to
                    The issuance of new shares.  This risk
                         Brings about a huge loss of real value
                              Therefore
                         An ideal asset would be one in which
                    There is no dilution risk possible, ever.
               Bitcoin fulfills this unique property of
          Money because the supply of bitcoin
     Is preprogrammed to 21 million coins.
Bitcoin has zero risk of share dilution

i wish to be a bubble
light and shiny
floating and soaring through the sky.


i wish to rest upon the clouds
oh for i could finally rest myself
lay there
and be transparent
let light shine through me
absorb me
engulf every cranny of my being
air pick me up
and drop my body
let it drop from thousands of feet
and shatter upon impact.


i want to be weightless
let go of myself and let myself be taken
by everyone everything every breath
swayed and pushed
flying to nowhere
somewhere
anywhere.


but to be a bubble
is as feasible as any other dream
for when i wake up
the clouds will fall
rain on me
and the bubble pops.


the brick didn’t shatter
so i tape the pieces that strayed away
and i’m back to walking
down the same road
to anywhere,

somewhere,



nowhere.

I trusted you. I really did.
Back then, I was just a kid.

Two years of agony have burned in my soul.
I’m sorry, now why won’t you let me achieve my goal?

You took the freedom from my innocent, wounded hands
Watched my happiness disappear like the infinite grains of sands

Like I’m in a prison, security everywhere
Clutching my fragile heart, with every wound and fear

And you can blame it all on me
But now I won’t even tell you who I want to be

Now I’ve matured, and finally moved on
Why won’t that strictness of you carry on?

Why can’t you be the person I thought you were?
Why can’t you treat me just like her?

Why must I be the person you lash out on?
Why won’t you miss me when I’m gone?

It’s because you took everything, even my personality
Now, I’m a nobody. Just me and your brutality.

She sat there like a burning fire
Courage inside her was one to admire

The breezes blew stronger than they had before
Her anger was from the sadness in her heart that tore

Today was the day her freedom would come back
Today was the day her courage would not lack

She would again become that flying bird
She would finally be back, being cured

So she stood up to them, ready to tell
But her courage disappeared, and again she fell.

A bird sat on a ledge, calling for air,
“Please, give me merely a share!”

A breeze came and lifted the bird off the ground
The breeze ruffling the bird’s feathers was the only sound

Every day, the bird decided to sit and wait
The bird was drawn to the wind, perhaps even fate

The wind always listened when the world did not
The bird had found something it had always sought

Then one day, dark clouds came and rain poured down
And the wind lunged forwards, without even a frown

At last, the bird saw the wind’s true power
The bird wanted to hide, but the wind didn’t let it cower

The wind ruffled the bird’s feathers as it had done in the past
The bird took off, flying ever so fast

Then the storm passed; the rain was gone
The bird looked at the sun from the ledge it was on

“Wind, let me once again soar!”
But the wind replied no more.

A bird flying so far away
Admiring every glimpse of day

From the fish in the sea to the trees that stand tall
The free, flying bird admired it all

Then a blast came from two hunters below
She fell to the ground, covered in snow

The humans took her far from her place
Where there was no glimpse of the tree’s grace

Trapped in a cage she sat all day
Wondering when she would again fly far, far away

But her wing was hurt, and couldn’t fly
So she yelled and sobbed and started to cry

But the humans ignored her and walked away,
Opened a door and she saw a glimpse of day

It was her past, where she longed most to go
She was much to weak to attempt to go, so

She sat still, admiring the glimpse of day
And peace, but could no longer fly far, far away

The thorns may have cut my hands off  
but not my will.  
It's mine whether to take the rose—  
yes or no!

I wonder what the birds think
As they fly about
Food, water, predators?
Or maybe not much at all
Maybe they think of nests and trees
Or they think of the kind human
Who sprinkled some seeds by the bench
They may remember bad times too
When they were shoo’d away
Or when rocks were thrown at them
Or maybe they don’t think of much at all
And maybe we don’t have to think of much at all
Like the birds
As they fly about

If our lives were captured in paintings,

each moment recorded in brush strokes

I would collect all of my

history into a warehouse,

set it on fire

and dance in the pyre's flames-

until everything

turned to ash.