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#evaporates
alone. Stateless space, the world wide web of stateless space, mapped to my mind, my own mind, with its grand library of knowns guessed about by other minds I may, if I will, if I am moved to, I can soak up the spill spilling, spewing from the reservoir of all men may know, given a state of rest. Take a cookie, a reward for leaving, allowing, letting me pound a peton in the anterior wall of the canyon-like sulci down into -- wait the sulci is a wrinkle, not a canyon carved from upstream material being squeezed through a crack in the outer shell, the cortical planar surface of my brain I am alone again, stateless selfless one all in my image otherwise we, when we re sonate, ring my chime, save me by the bell curve autism, give me a place on your spectrum of value. Outism, give me an in, open a window, or a door, breakdown a wall, love me with reason, or leave me alone. Listen, meaning list as list is meant in states, stateless situations de-ify meaning as destinated metadata left in cookies, rewarding the meme in you from the mind of Jim Henson and friends. The friends from the nursery that is not real. Not here, but there on Sesame Street, which I thought was in San Jose. Yes, I have a picture of the time, a state saved in a long list of symbols, each a cookie, with reference to a U R L universe re-source {or resourcing} locator... refer to google, should you lose my way, some sharper turns are available here where physics is protognosis, after life is meta allathat, now is as now as ever was or ever shall be. Neither luck nor physics stand to block this flow through nada zilch, stateless space, as good as grace, no guile, innocent - non- nascent stateless. Not even a Turing machine in sight and then what should appear? as we see, we get a state where any imaginable machine may be with us as a - whatever here we be, re a ranged, or dered, idiot tic tic tic ti esti whoa. You and the horse you rode in on. This is my own state of grace, and you are welcome. If you know what I mean, welcome, here, my state of grace, where I bake all the cookies I could ever wish for, that was the wish, circumstances complied with, layer after layer of complexity, eventually, we pause, selah. These days coming into an oasis with cookies waiting to settle you into default mode, commonly sensed, distant sounds that would be noise, were their source inside your mind or head or heart or wh at ere what or where, where noises are all delusional, used to fit allusions to former illusions. Welcome.
0
Jul 4, 2020
Jul 4, 2020 at 12:17 PM UTC
kenpepiton
Feeling quiet and -not
alone. Stateless space, the world wide web of stateless space, mapped to my mind, my own mind, with its grand library of knowns guessed about by other minds I may, if I will, if I am moved to, I can soak up the spill spilling, spewing from the reservoir of all men may know, given a state of rest. Take a cookie, a reward for leaving, allowing, letting me pound a peton in the anterior wall of the canyon-like sulci down into -- wait the sulci is a wrinkle, not a canyon carved from upstream material being squeezed through a crack in the outer shell, the cortical planar surface of my brain I am alone again, stateless selfless one all in my image otherwise we, when we re sonate, ring my chime, save me by the bell curve autism, give me a place on your spectrum of value. Outism, give me an in, open a window, or a door, breakdown a wall, love me with reason, or leave me alone. Listen, meaning list as list is meant in states, stateless situations de-ify meaning as destinated metadata left in cookies, rewarding the meme in you from the mind of Jim Henson and friends. The friends from the nursery that is not real. Not here, but there on Sesame Street, which I thought was in San Jose. Yes, I have a picture of the time, a state saved in a long list of symbols, each a cookie, with reference to a U R L universe re-source {or resourcing} locator... refer to google, should you lose my way, some sharper turns are available here where physics is protognosis, after life is meta allathat, now is as now as ever was or ever shall be. Neither luck nor physics stand to block this flow through nada zilch, stateless space, as good as grace, no guile, innocent - non- nascent stateless. Not even a Turing machine in sight and then what should appear? as we see, we get a state where any imaginable machine may be with us as a - whatever here we be, re a ranged, or dered, idiot tic tic tic ti esti whoa. You and the horse you rode in on. This is my own state of grace, and you are welcome. If you know what I mean, welcome, here, my state of grace, where I bake all the cookies I could ever wish for, that was the wish, circumstances complied with, layer after layer of complexity, eventually, we pause, selah. These days coming into an oasis with cookies waiting to settle you into default mode, commonly sensed, distant sounds that would be noise, were their source inside your mind or head or heart or wh at ere what or where, where noises are all delusional, used to fit allusions to former illusions. Welcome.
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