Who's in the mirror-
Staring back with wide eyes,
Green and glowing,
By the question-
Who's looking back?
You can't be real,
You're scaring me -
Like a daisy sprung full bloom in the dead of winter,
Like a tiny needle,
You are fear and you ate my confidence for breakfast.
I'm almost sure you won't break through and take the rest.
Blood isn’t just binary. It’s conclusive. Full of nonsense that isn’t discernible by judgment itself. It’s conclusive because it matters. Rather then being a binary code full of testaments replacing information over something absorbed prior. Fluid control. Over a fluid encompassing passage. Passage through dark crevices it creeps. Creeping into the darkest of depths. While making the most sense. Sense without equal. Forms becoming taught from within, rather then being instructed on the surface. Structures within aren’t binary by instructed purposes alone. As being taught isn’t something left out in the dark, when it’s also able to learn in the light. Surfaces aren’t shifting. There migrating to better circumstances. One in the same. Correction has no values if one or the other isn’t what it always seems, when taking a closer look. Up close in its details, reveals it all. How much is one willing to see? Waiting for the views to be answered. Speculating isn’t contrary by any default. Viewing isn’t just a construct of pressed desires either. Simply a common observation. In that observation, blood carries all sorts of knowledge already in it’s grasp. Pinpointing the construct with pressed desires. No. It’s flowing any aspect in a system engineered by the steady constants all around itself. Different forms generating different instances of strife. While strife isn’t labeled by much, until something made further observations. The views are just consequential. Random instances in a random binary function. Detesting anyone’s views when carrying on without an interpretation involved. It’s consequential, by being its own aspect. Its own thing. Processing its own flow. Circulating its own properties. Wills and wants. Covering every crevice of the system. You are labeled by what…? Views? Observations? Interpretations? Shifty desires aren’t always what they seem when it’s covering every knowledge base in the machine. We walk in the embedded actions were instructed by. Shifting one moment without concern. Migrating the next, with stride and interest. Blood is the secret of knowledge because it’s covering the entire system, we breath. Feeling the information of the nerves hum the binary code better in circulation. Warming the blood with all it’s might! Blitzing past its flow of tightly fit closure. Information in the sense of blood cells. Nerve cells is another passage of rich knowledge. Blood is the secret focus that fissures in-between nerve cells generating basic structures on the surface. Instructed to be wild. Blood isn’t just focus. It’s taught to bind itself through the systems thinking they don’t require its binary frequencies. Frequencies polishes the hum of processes into delightful instructing. Body feels it. Other flowing systems sense it. Does viewing it understand it? Does observing wrap everything up into one bundle? Or does interpretation dissolve all visuals into one encompassing tale? About (how it should work?) Before realizing ones, interpretations are held beneficial by views and observations. Detested by one who is viewing it by interpretation. Interpretation is wrong! Deeeeaaaadddd wrong! Interpretations on the surface. It’s to bad. Why don’t you try focusing from within? Might learn something more visually speaking then what interpretation wants with all its desires combined. When you figure that out. Your being instructed by the secret knowledge of bloods binary access itself.
Blood is sometimes discountable in relations of how dense it's properties can consume. Flowing through the nourishment of our body’s natural claims. And for what...? It just being there, as we do our own steady bidding?
Stinging with rage! The skeleton would say. Not figuring out anything if never having layers is a good thing. Why must I have an upkeep in social deficiencies, if I can’t learn myself enough? The skeleton contemplated extensively. I’m too gray! Too…Tooooo… Poised! Being poised is a dampening effect. One revolutionizing logic without circumstance. Circumstance without valid reasons to erupt circumstantial balance. Deeming to involve constraints upon your own systems processes. Strife filling into those processes. Putting a bony skeletal hand to its bony chin. I’m a skeleton. I’m all strife! My bones don’t just sting. They rust! RUST!!! It said yelling with two skeletal arms moving clenching bony fists in the air. Try having rusted edges without completing desirable functions! Releasing edges without rust involved. I move one step, and SNAP! OOPS! Edges be screaming my velocities down the rut! Velocities pit my joints moving with other joints in an unbalanced poised expression. Poised is great. Having good flexible positions in the making. Except for the fact I sent the rusted edges. Which once again, is a catch of being too POISED! Maybe I should have asked for layers when wanting to become poised? But without favor. Favor of not having to worry about any deficiencies. Self deficiencies? It said opening it’s mouth wide. More like social deficiencies! I can’t go anywhere feeling my form is off completely! Skeletal arms in the air while staring up into the atmosphere. Mouth still open wide. What do I DOOOOO???!!! All the sudden, the skeletons stinging edges started to rust more. Huh?! Looking down at its skeletal body. Surprised and a little alarmed. The skeleton notices it wasn’t thinking. Since you sometimes don’t realize you just started thinking without one’s volition. The rusted edges were thinking. Or something sizzling with charisma? Charisma with claim, purpose, and factual statements. I don’t, UHHHHHHHH!!! Pausing deeply. Feeling something burn with rage! The stinging…! It’s getting more intense. I-I, I can’t stop myself from feeling it too much! It wants to envelope me. Wait? The skeleton stops. The stinging stopped all together. Not feeling the burning rage anymore. Whoa! Weird. W-what just happened? Sizzling effort of rust kept on thinking with sizzling charisma. OHHH! I get it now. The skeleton retracting its movements back to its original posture. I’m freaking out! Calling for what it seems to be. I’m detracting my own surface from its original desire. Bony hand against its chin. A claim without focus. The skeleton snaps it’s bony fingers. Feeling the sting rupture between rusted joints sizzling with claim, purpose, and factual statements. Away from the thinking. The skeleton seeing it’s joints become more flexible as two of it’s bony finger tips made contact with one another. Seeing is believing after all. It said smiling wide. Feeling the rusted edges absorb it’s smile into it’s thinking base. More stinging raised multiple alarms along the entire bone structure. The skeleton shook violently! Not feeling despair, concern or fear. But warmth. Warmth giving it an excitability it never sought out before. Probably because it never had to. Until now. I think my social deficiencies will start disappearing now. Feeling calmer. Along with my perfect poise that only existed in this bone structuring stage. I’m awaiting something newer. More affordable now that I’m beginning to understand.
How I would feel when moving without contempt for my own volatile commands. Making myself think being stuck in a rut for too long, was actually a good thing. How wrong was I.
Not restricted by it. Only restricted by it’s tame. Bright and vigorous! Tempting to be better than a dying phase. Light prompting the taming call of its energy. Becoming more vibrant. Conclusive to it’s claims. Parting ways without mentioning why dying light is its fate. Being tamed. Tempting to hold dear energy supplies for it’s withering gaze. Prompting to feel (it shouldn’t matter). Am I wanting to become more of a spectacle, or something?! I’m a dying light. Not the uptick in brighter horizons. Just the low dimming effect of a once broader frequency. Detesting the restrictions altogether. Nothing better to accept one’s fate. Rather then battling one thinking that (holding on, is a miracle). No! It’s a natural death sentence. And I’ll gladly pay it! If it means I get to be myself again. Dying light pays respects to its own slurring pause. I seeee…I seeeeeee… IIII…seeeeeeeee!!! I’m causing my own fate. Feeling the tame of its restrictions falling off. Like chains buckled to every brightened photon in the complex. Bright and vigorous! Just like last time. This was different. A struggle thinking (what isn’t a self damaging effect)? But a structure of succession! Never temping my dying phase. Which is smarter then accepting varieties. The slurring pause was no more. Restrictions were no more. I am dying light. And I will shine on other broken lights losing their light in self deluded stages.
Light isn't equal if thinking it needs to be brightened more, just to fit in. It's not about others, until you accept your brightened ferocity revving in your heart!
Be kind to yourself
Or you'll be like me
Figuring out that
I was my own problem
I was my own stopping point
I was holding myself back
Be kind to yourself
And show yourself some love
And know that you are worthy
And strong enough
To know that hurt will come and go
To know that love will come and go
To know that friendship will come and go
Be kind to yourself
Be strong for yourself
Be able to love yourself before loving someone else
Be kind to yourself
Because God knows you
And you are perfect in his eyes.
treat yourself right, love
Flowers dry up when there not impressed with themselves. Withering back down below depths of uncertainty. Prompting joy that shouldn't exist. Commenting on a bigger structure that is not from within. It's around them. Circumventing proudly for all to see. If you aren't impressed with yourself. Then how will you bloom again for all to see?
Flowers hide themselves when they feel they aren't good enough. Everyone hides themselves behind there own blooming effect.
I am alone inside of you,
While being alone inside of me,
I am alone inside of everyone,
Who has ever met me!
Me, who is me,
Is he the me inside of you,
Or the me inside of me,
Could he be the me inside of anyone,
Who has ever met me?
But there is no me, or even you,
No single individual,
Can really be true,
When they are created by the minds,
Of really quite a few.
There are many versions of you, but none of them are really true!
A cell exceeds boundaries when meeting the wealth of another. Another who is like them. A salt of the earth. One won’t deceive you as we merge together. Common courtesy for now. Cells become greater focus when merging together with trust. Trust amplifies common courtesies. Foundations arise, and fall. Balance? No. Relationships? At first. Then what…? Simple. Two halves with a void, slowly becoming consumed by another. Filling in the necessary. No voids existing in open spaces the size of what they never understood. Something zaps in pleasure! Pleasure becomes the common courtesy. Tensions rise and fall between the mergers. Forming into a newly merged claim. A form never exceeding the wealth it ever deserved. It happens anyways. Exceeding one’s primary focus. Deserving when having no other choice. Choice is meant to brisk them to light. Light zaps onward. Foundations rise and fall again. Something clicks. Giving rise to an interpretation. Interpretations give rise to wealth. Wealth claiming two mergers into newer states. The state of mixing is known as (reaching beyond itself.) Two halves never lucky, until merging as one. A brain cell is born.
A brain cell is never alone. Only when merging with another, will it truly discover just how rich and wealthy it's materials has to offer. Complex. Rich! A network bigger then itself, has yet to merge more wealth into itself. For itself to understand.
Souls don’t have friction, if there without clear instructions to what’s being used for? Meant to combine the velocity of aspects surrounding the pure energy from growing without endangering itself. Souls becoming too powerful without layers. Layers interpreting logical statements of what good values is growing over itself for protection. Layers protecting itself. Protecting itself from the one that needs sheltering. Forcing more layers to follow in direction. Direction forcing more layers to protect itself more over, then pure energy endangering itself too much! Prompting the ideal for conquest in the face of chaos. Chaos sharing varieties without clarity. Clarity taunting the individual switching off any claims to servitude. Who’s this individual? Umm…clarity itself? (Sighs EVERYWHERE!!!) Energy isn’t withholding itself anymore. It’s destabilizing altogether! Pressure doesn’t come with layers. Endangerment is consequence. The ideal claim without surfaces. Surfaces needing layers without logical statements evolving proudly. Evolving flaws meaning to pace itself out. Clean up the act so chaos can protrude reasoning. Basic fundamental truth of life itself. So, which is it…? Souls without layers! Or dynamic layers ******* energy material too fearful to crack without confrontation? Exceeding the limitations of presence alone. Were all doomed! However, why isn’t there a claim to any of this? Friction has another backbone in its surface. It’s cleverly silent.
Time and place for all things to rub surfaces together. Layers aren't that great when challenged by something that doesn't make sense to itself. Clear varieties when looking deep within.
Nonsense isn’t clear when self-induce becomes derogatory. Switching off claims to promote a zero-questioning start. Only for calamities to raise the bars of victory without circumstance. Pleading you to forget what you saw and repeat after me. Nonsense without structure, is relaxing too much. Does relaxing come after nonsense when zero questioning permits the struggle of structure? I digress for the infinite that is suggesting you relax when it comes to ******* interiors giving no rise to pressure that exceeds balance. Balance in the face of consequence. Consequence in the doubt of honor. Honor in the… WAIT! It’s nonsense, right? ALL OF IT!! EVERYTHING!!! Plain examples of zero switches without direction. Promoting the structure of pleading facts rubbing with calamities. Ruining what shouldn’t have been. Illusions! All of it. Claiming something, which isn’t a benefactor to logic raising circumstances toward rising the bars of victory. Doesn’t make any sense, does it? Any of this ringing a bell people?! Good. Just relax and create your own structure. Even how awfully permitting to other appeals it might seem. Structure is without consequence. Relaxing about regular customs to oneself, permits the desire to act with a calm disposition. Everything being a confused debate of nonsense. Only adding nonsense over something that’s already a relaxing structure. Is structure without relaxation? Enough details… I’m out! Structure your own appeals?!
Pace yourself without claims to malice. Sharing views is good enough without all the NONSENSE! Clear your victories...PLEASE!