Logic isn't logic if it's forced down your throat! Which is exactly why logic can't protect itself against its own reasoning when forced to do something it's never to have been done ever before, since an idea's very conception!

Engaging the processes that never matter, is blasphemy! Coating with coaxed visions of what wasn’t the usual demeanor of completion. Magnifying a matter of consequence over structures of doubt. Magnifying another matter entirely. Switching off the coax disposition. Processes becoming enraged. Engaging what it truly wanted to open up onto itself. Performances exiled. Properties fallen silent for non being the wiser. Trippy situations become sensitive desires. Opting situational premises. Offered to become desolate in the spotlight. Spotlight blips out for a few moments of data being processed over along period of space. The time was undetermined by valid postures. Valid postures filtering out neat and tidy. Only wanting to look it’s best. The blips mean more to what time can’t separate. The space occupies reason. Reason being pushed into uncertainties. Uncertainties becoming trapped. Disillusioned in the path that processes an easy way out. Filtering more reasoning on pure logic alone. Logic is great. Yet undecided. Everything caught in tumbling transmissions. Engaging the processes that never matter, isn’t blasphemy. Until you find the route of measure. Opting more devices from within to escort the spotlight into submission. Submission prompting more blips in the spotlight. More processes become enraged! The blips being the true mask to what uncertainty flips around like a rag doll. Its design isn’t enraged because it can’t decide its own reasoning. It’s enraged because it’s engaging with itself. Similarities being too of the same varieties for one process over the other to notice in finite detail. A mirror reflecting off one component between another. Never noticing the illusion of itself being the only one of its kind. The twist! Being what it can’t recognize. Is the acknowledgement of another like it? Programmed to twist, turn, pull its way to victory in undetermined results. The logic is careless. Showing adaptions aren’t perfect. Tries and tries. Until something clicks for the escort route out of the blasphemy. Rooting you in place. Each component reflecting its own processes off mirrors one can only acknowledge. Wait! If one can twist its desires around itself, reflecting it like a mirror. Then how does it communicate with another component? The fate isn’t in the details. But for you to figure out. A fated bland disposition regains control. Processes become engaged once more!

Why am I sad?
I don’t know.
I never do.

A visable beam of light,
gleaming through the darkest of clouds and down into the bay

A beautiful sight ahead of us,
forever engraved

A moon so large, I can draw the happiest face
All I can do is inhale the cold breeze and smile at the sky
Then I softy say,
I am truly thankful for this feeling,
as the sky is my only ceiling
And in this moment,

I am more than just alive

Ask me why I write
And I'll stop and think
There's beauty in this world
And it passes in a blink
I explore these thoughts
And write them down
For words hold value
Whether it brings a smile, or a frown
It gives you insight
Into someone's mind
The way they feel
If you take the time
So that's why I write
For I enjoy it so
Because without poetry
The world would never know