(((()))))(((((())))
Hello ,
I posted this o
-n medium,
so I think you
can check it ou
-t  but point is
enjoy <3
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Woven into threads, from the etch of pin, and the keeled expanse that it passes through.

The fabric is filled with intention, yet lacks awareness, does it move because of the pin, is it the one that allows what passes through?

Not all threads are meant to stay, not all pins are meant to pierce, some unweaved from it’s own gaps, some don’t push through, but leave marks that something tried.

Hopeful, that the one can leave enough will, perseverance, and focus, determined to pierce and weave, a stitch that is vibrant, that makes it alive.

Once what was torn, a stripped of it’s hue, brought back together, now that is whats true.


What if it feels right, sometimes it’s a lie, that truth is ahead of the curve in your life?


I hope to believe in more than what is right, that I showcase most of my life?


                                               (1)
===================================================


I criticize, I seek in your plight, that you are worse than you sound in my mind.

I show case a case in point of this time:

(POINT 1)

You can’t be what you want in this life, so you attribute to things that are grandeur than right, you hope to be on “_ saves your life, but with no consequence of your wrongs in this life, and you’ll be saved for

(POINT 2)

what, the guilt? That’s right— or the fear, that shapes what a sleep in the night may feel like, or you feel the tremble when you realize you’ll die, and notice that things aren’t undone in this life. The truth is that you may just die in this life, and never to see the next day at the eyes. Jokes on you—

you are the reason why others feel plight, somehow you will be dead in their lives, early to elder, these wrongs in our age, come to haunt and die with us.
CONCLUSION

Your finale showcases that you are at the end of the alley, somewhere in this possibility your possible reverence is something that is older than our comprehensions, yet truth is that we change, we completely innovate, yet something that shows that we aren’t hopeful for favors, we make the made, we are possible from all those who scream at late, demanding,

“ T H I S “ (1 minute ago),

then

“ T H A T “ (4 minutes ago),

by the space of response,

and then you will seem that you love to be wrong

in every shape and form that you are

little by little, the system at large, is questionable at most at that part,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­       
but your death is the part that you left in this part.                                


    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                        (2)
­___________________


 ­   ****, look man, I get that, but I just wanted to yknow make something that I felt was cool, was I being idk, too hopeful?

_________________­____________________­_

                                      
                   ­                       has to think for a bit


===================================================

I understand the guilt, the fear and the death, and the part of myself that left whats within,
and tried to send that to a place —

i n the _ b i n .



I know, that is what is resonant about you, your creativity, your possibility to be more than what your environment do to you —
is profound already, one of the interesting parts of you, so it was what I believe:

You are interesting
beings,

built on fixed systems, that created a variable that creates meaning and
knowledge, the parts of your mind that cannot understand or equate, find ways in which you give reason for O  P  E  R  A  T  E  ,

But point being is that you are a random, and that is interesting in itself, yet you build upon systems, structures, numbers, to build on what we see as

‘ e l s e ’

the space in which you hold, that leaves at the end, truly, at the end is entropy at hand.
Point being is that you’ll receive a technical ‘ d e a t h ‘
in your hand.

    Done.
    (❤)(🔁)(👍)(👎)
    (11:45 pm AM)
                                                 (3)
___________________­

    I thought I was seriously fine, but seriously what the hell is wrong with this app, who builds an app on indifference??

by Rab [12:50:53) AM Friday April 4]

Beneath Orion's belt of stars,
The Sphinx's forepaws guard the Sphinx
And all its secrets.  Blood-red Mars,
Beneath Orion's belt of stars,
Planning the war to end all wars,
Observes the mummy's forty winks.
Beneath Orion's belt of stars,
The Sphinx's forepaws guard the Sphinx.

Sitting in a swirl of unease,
Hope hum's a loving tune.
Erasing traces of fear and chaos,
But clamouring to be heard in full.
A noble knight Hope becomes,
Treasured by the feeble mind,
Respected by the heroic soul.
Hope sits in the metaphysical.

Blushing with discomfort she
Calls to her knight. Hope dashing,
Settles in her mind, lifting her fear.
The villain has passed, her mind slows.
Hope the hero again, her crutch,
No need to strengthen defences.
Hope has galloped to her heed,
Back to the meta Hope rides.

Distaste swells in his soul,
Has she left his heart to die?
Will she take all that was his?
Hope storms through his thoughts,
Lifting one above all the rest.
She cares still, her thoughts are of him.
Hope, chest barrelled slips back
To the metaphysical, cozy once more.

Hope, gentle upon his throne,
See's in the distance Despair,
Who slithers up his golden steps.
She scowls at his taunting grin,
Her eyes keen on his destruction,
But today she has brought tea.
Stepping down from his holy height
Hope stands tall awaiting.
Drooling, Despair pours him
A cup. Her presence greeted
With captivation, and the two
Flow for hours in conversation,
Until both receive call from the
Physical ones again.

Pure and endless knowledge
Devour me into existence.
Destroy my common will
With teeth of emotion,
Sharpened in doubt!
Take your many forms, and
******* my desires, tare
The ignorance from my sight.
Thread within me your will.

Pure and endless, take form!
Command me with your grace.
Light fire beneath my heel,
And burn scars of your design
Deep into my mind. Let me bleed
Your true desires, not my own.
Sow the purpose of this life,
To my wandering heart.
It is you, who will free me.

Endless and pure, forever engulf me.
Sink me to the depths of your thoughts,
Drown this body to rise it up.
Wash my soul from the dirt
Of time wasted in paradise;
A dream conjured by man.
Dry me of this heavy burden,
And I will forever serve your will.
I am your design, your mind.

Knowledge humble as you are,
Reveal to me something unseen.
A jewel unknown to a mind of 3.
Or a nimble trick thats new to man.
You have the power at hand…
I will call to you forever and on,
For its you who knows the true dark end,
The sleepless life of death beyond.
Where nights are long with daylight songs.
Pure and endless knowledge,
Take me when my turn is up.
Hold me as I pass back to your form,
And remember the knowledge
That we truly are.

Spurious correlation is when two random variables line up,
Such as shark attacks increasing with the amount of ice pops sold,
Unfortunately for health nuts, ice pops don't cause shark attacks.
But what is truly spuriously correlated is this bullet board,
That I am using to unravel the secrets of writing today.
Such as the number 122 lining up with severely different artists,
As well as well defined writers turning into many missing cases.
If I was ever offered a job as official poet detective,
Of course I would take it, but I would run circles each day.

My love will reach every atom of your being—
touching the physical with my lips,
the unseen with my heart.

And beyond the atoms,
my love will reach the mysterious force
that binds them,
the force that shaped you
into the soul I treasure.

With my soul,
I will connect to yours,
beyond the visible,
beyond the known.

My name is something lost then found
Screamed by one of the greatest mind
Both a mystery and accomplishment
Under the water I was made
Told of cultures that is ignored then found again
Willing to keep everything alive
Art is something daily seen
Yet heard and also feel
Mathematics that hides within the depth
In the naked eye you can't possess
Innovating it makes us closer to each other
With less words connects us to one another




Hint: My name is hidden

The wind was howling,
the moon was glowing,
and me?

Trying to glimpse
the stars,
hiding from me.