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rig Apr 17
as little butterflies block an astronomical path
                         to draw fleeting halfshadows on the tar
as i scrape the salt from my flushed cheeks
                    with my trembling sugarspoon fingernails
as the way all things~oh hi love of my life
               lessness check out this here xylophone
wanna play old cartoon jingles with
          me i’ll join in sure haha this is fun
right right okaylaterthenbyebye
     hmm wherewasi oh right the thing…

as foreignhome landscapes are looked
                                        upon by me i ponder
                                                     and poorly breathe.

funny dreams. yeah.
           funny dreams.
catch some rays
where the sun blaze
on the **** days

I'm Moses
where can I flee
between the red sea
Egyptian army
are behind me

sink into a deckchair
boulder inside my chest
dancing with a feet bare
on a sandy beach, I know I'm very blessed

tranquil waters
let me be uncaged
140421 | 10:47am
today is galungan day & 3rd of fasting day, so I can spend my day at the beach. My mind is a mess, everything's good, but anxiety hugging me tight. Triggered about google drive sharing, stressing out about the floor, still sad cause Norton gone, scared. about everything. I just want to soak in the sea, because salt water heals.
Is mystery dependent on me thinking of mystery?
It is a safe bet.
For when what is central is knowledge, then I can only become aware of mystery if upon something new or unknown.
Thus, mystery is not knowledge, but the lack of it.
Mystery is ignorance.
Thus, my meditation is rather reflection on ignorance,
As if I'm trying to better describe ignorance, or find a way out of ignorance with only the experiential.
I think of mostly consciousness and the universe here, in terms of my and humanity's ignorance of them.
Not only am I limited by my own understanding but also the understanding of others, however much they are even more intelligent than me.
I see others working on problems that have proven to not solve the mystery, the mystery being ignorance.
The only thing that could solve it is omniscience.
Then it follows that what I'm really trying to solve is omniscience.
"Infinite cognition" as the Buddha put it.
Even if a person could have omniscience, it would be colored by how they can make sense of reality.
Knowledge would take the form of what is most familiar.
Thus, when wondering about a question as to what is pi, they may say about 3.14.
The answer conditioned on how people and the omniscient one would have the capacity to hear.
Maybe this seems more like intuition.
But omniscience would denote the person as a speaker, yet only allowable to speak as what was conducive for everyone's best.
This is how Baha'is look at Manifestations of God: only allowed to share a certain amount at a time.
Just as the Son said "I have many things to share with you, but you cannot hear them now".
Still their capacity would be limited to what they themselves were interested in.
For one who is marginalized and oppressed or even thronged by multitudes, often has no willingness to delve deeply into subject matter, it causing some to stray from a correct path.
Since fractal systems work strongest in more diverse settings, it would seem that the very thing that makes it strong also makes its capacity to hear weak.
Omniscience therefore, if given to only a few, has a limited range of effect.
But even this limited range would change the entire system.
As Baha'u'llah calls His followers "the leaven" and the Son calls His followers "the salt".
"Many are called but few are chosen" seems derogatory in a world where "ye are all the leaves of one tree".

World consciousness almost arose to love tonight, but the lover ensared it in his anger once again.
If I close my ears to them, will it go away?
If they close my ears to me, will I go away?
Strength in the diversity of parts.
Strength really meaning pain.
E Pluribus Unum.
"Meditate down"

Cold mists and paper clips
A minuscule vapour cloud
Covers a story, neatly filed

Streams had dreams
The river knew of
Gently flowed into the bay

Warm water springs
The freezing cold lake
Shares the revelry

A beauty to behold
Damp air and Crystals of salt
Into the pan, white
Mike Feb 4
we had it all
the popcorn
the peanuts
all the salty snacks you could ask for
and then some
drunk degenerate drove down a road
some maniac of a man on a mission he only noticed
when stomach acids burnt the back of his throat
he wasn't always so quiet
he wasn't always so unkept
but
things change
Juno Dec 2020
my clothes must taste of salt
for all the crying i’ve done today.
Nazrana Kalil Nov 2020
There is anger dripping from my eye
and it tastes like salt.
It seasons the pain,
intensifies rage.
A plateful of emotions...
yet no one’s at fault
Jordan Gee Oct 2020
Breathe Steady 10.29.20
go forth then, unto God and his Glory, abounding and rejoicing in the power and peace of that holy dwelling place.
abide, therefore, forever in the Love and in the Light.
-sayeth  the channelings, sayeth the distorted mask,
sayeth that through which sound passes.-

sons and daughters of the Earth who bathe in the waters
drawn of love/light/wisdom in the bathhouse of
the higher densities and inner planes.
Bath waters of golden white light, brilliant in a
radial pouring forth of tangible understanding and freewill.
scarcely can such energy be described in so
cumbersome a language, charming as it endeavors to be.
underwhelming must the emotions evoked be
in comparison with the All Glory of experience of
that which is spoken of.
the death ****** of the fire-bird serves as its own
inoculum and womb; two ends of a terminus
in polarity.

I activate in order to combine,
dwindling dread.
I seal the upswing of trans-dimensional laughter,
with the everyday tone of exodus.
I am guided by the advent of thermals.
-I am a solar riptide, surf me-

and then time slowed way down.
the semi trucks were like great sea mammals with
their whale calls and slow passage by the flanks.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Kalachakra.”
“Did you hear that?” (hushed tones, hands cover the phone.)
I was quite close to the illusion of Death.
The opaque specter, shaking and rumbling the very
fabric of the matrix about me.
wavering not within the sinkhole of indifference lest my terror turn manifest.
I’ve risen from a pillar of salt,
I’ll rise from the embers next.
post bufo alvaris
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