this is how you rise.
           shed the old, reshape the rest.  
                 stand straighter, speak softer —  
                      beauty is just another word for belonging.  

step into the light.  
           let the fabric drape just right.  
                      let the colors speak for you.  

      (if it glitters,  
                 does it matter  
                       if it suffocates?)  

  cut the hair.  
          swallow the accent.  
   paint the lips  
                the color of currency—  
                      polished,  
                              bloodless.  

       now you are seen.
   now you are wanted.
now you exist.

smile wider.
let the teeth gleam.
walk taller.
let the rhythm match.
speak carefully.
let the voice lose its edges.

(soften.
soften.
disappear.)

lovely, isn’t it?
      to be chosen?
           to be one of us?

isn’t it?

Think of the office

as a madhouse, then the rest --


is pretty normal.

Money allowed to ever expand
Brings scarcity to every land
Money scarce and tightly bound
Creates abundance all around

An ever increasing money supply
Destroys our freedom by and by
We’re not even free to choose
We must spend now or we will lose

The Bitcoin Standard echoes true
A sounder money for me and you
Allowing us to save, or invest
Or buy the things that we think best

Let’s build the world we want to see
With lots of wealth and energy
A world where money’s scarce and tight
With freedom sure, our future’s bright

If she's easy  just like

     How she was easy

     Then what does that make you?

Earthlings live and lose
Standard human protocol
No one is exempt

As a little girl she always knew
That she lacked something special
Her own mother reminded her constantly
And the lass is now a grown woman

Adult experiences confirmed what was true
That she was just ordinary and dull
A woman with no it factor
Invisible to all before and around her

She's heard and hears stories of other women
Who use their wiles on hungry men
'If only I had that gift I'd feed a hundred of them'
Instead she's bypassed like she's not even there

Old age is catching up to her now
She may as well be thin air
The only ones who see her are other women
But never the men she dreams of

Ordinary is boring and typical
Nothing exciting about this creature
She might as well be dead and buried
Along with any hopes of truly being seen