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#fractals
To net a butterfly takes time, catch the states of mind with kindness. From thoughts, emotions, opinions, belief, ethereal dreams may seem out of reach. The small pineal gland still stands tall, even if we're concealing what is real. Cold hard stone in hand, a granite man can fracture. Match the eye of sun gods, appreciate your wider space in chorus. Combined from our creative borderlands, where we learn to understand and teach. Factual fractals repetitively resonate, so try to make the most of your ability. As intuitions have a silent plan, contemplate your future face. This life can be deemed a dream, where we're all here for a finite time. You're born, you work and times pass by. Then onto the next opportunity.
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May 10, 2021
May 10, 2021 at 9:24 AM UTC
Subjectivity
**I tread to keep my head Just above the water; But find myself floating away ~ While others were sinking or swimming down yonder, I ponder, though my thoughts betray The reality that I perceive Which may, or may not be as limiting Of that which you can conceive, Or can see much stronger I no longer bother; It’s deceiving so I castaway, And leave myself astray in the fray / Blottering• To alter my relief of mindscape and believe, there’ll better days, beyond what I face Cremate my remains in the ashtray someday Energy never ceases to exist It perpetually permeates the cosmic collective consciousness Wherever my soul will occupy the confines in space Of the vibrations that happen to solidify my base And give me just the slightest trace, that I’m phasing amidst these in-between places I feel as though I am an imposter - Egregiously living a grievous dream, of which I have conjured; That I am lost, and therefore cannot prosper Because I harbor improper resentment, that I will foster until my departure This fractal picture of the macrocosm only grows larger, but from farther away; As it becomes harder to map the realms of territories unchartered in my escape I try to attain, but only falter in vain To discover what the universe truly contains And convey that in words to paint mental frames/ Maybe it’s strange but one must think outside the constraints It may sound absurd but please keep up the pace Spiritual enlightenment for real is the surreal end-game in which we all play chase replacing Incarcerated rocks to be polished, in this giant machine Perpetually incarnating A shining spirit until that’s all that remains Once every imperfection Is completely erased When the correct particles have been finally arranged & Nirvana has since become fully sustained Can I truly be One with my Self- And not just a product of fate**
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 6:01 AM UTC
De•per•son•al•iz•a•tion
**I tread to keep my head Just above the water; But find myself floating away ~ While others were sinking or swimming down yonder, I ponder, though my thoughts betray The reality that I perceive Which may, or may not be as limiting Of that which you can conceive, Or can see much stronger I no longer bother; It’s deceiving so I castaway, And leave myself astray in the fray / Blottering• To alter my relief of mindscape and believe, there’ll better days, beyond what I face Cremate my remains in the ashtray someday Energy never ceases to exist It perpetually permeates the cosmic collective consciousness Wherever my soul will occupy the confines in space Of the vibrations that happen to solidify my base And give me just the slightest trace, that I’m phasing amidst these in-between places I feel as though I am an imposter - Egregiously living a grievous dream, of which I have conjured; That I am lost, and therefore cannot prosper Because I harbor improper resentment, that I will foster until my departure This fractal picture of the macrocosm only grows larger, but from farther away; As it becomes harder to map the realms of territories unchartered in my escape I try to attain, but only falter in vain To discover what the universe truly contains And convey that in words to paint mental frames/ Maybe it’s strange but one must think outside the constraints It may sound absurd but please keep up the pace Spiritual enlightenment for real is the surreal end-game in which we all play chase replacing Incarcerated rocks to be polished, in this giant machine Perpetually incarnating A shining spirit until that’s all that remains Once every imperfection Is completely erased When the correct particles have been finally arranged & Nirvana has since become fully sustained Can I truly be One with my Self- And not just a product of fate**
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I am the Sun waning The anti-climax The subtle release from a gripping hug forming into The impregnated void of possibility I am entropy slowly collapsing into the formless darkness of chaos rearranging my cells into something new and something made of stardust
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Jun 17, 2018
Jun 17, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
After Birth
My biggest fear is that I will someday be 61 looking back on my life as an imposter in a body I don’t own that I won’t have stretched the skin and scarred the cracks or let the sun into my retina I fear I won’t have drunk from life as one drinks from a waterfall part of a beautiful cosmic rushing that only exists to **** you. I read the numbers on headstones and count the warning that my life exists as a dash. I have pocked my face with dots so I’ll exist as morse code after I’m gone so that the synapses in my alwaysthelightson brain will sink into the soil as static and evaporate into the sky where I’ll live as lightning, striking the tall boreal pines. I read thunderstorms to speak to the dead, offering prayers of roots and bloodshot eyes. I can hear what they’ve been telling me all along deep in my nerves we’re not alone and we’ll be ok.
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 1:18 AM UTC
Morse Code
if we want to make forward progress we have to put a stop to all this unrest and nonsense put your thoughts and words to good use don't use them as a form of abuse no one is fake no one is stupid no one is anything other than what they are and what they are you are too we all have the same roots we are all reading from the same book some of us are just on different chapters end the labels end the hate it is time for us to move on to the next page
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 6:07 PM UTC
an authentic collective
The mountain becomes microscopic when the sun shines on a leaf or the ripples of a shallow stream. The leaf has the precise shadow of a winter stem on its white tongue and the ripples make the stones look like little dwelling places. The mossy one I kneel upon is like a carpet of fresh ancient forest. A wind rises from on high ranges over ranges… There is still so much possibility. The world grows many times over as the eye sees more than its sight. I make faces and fingers out of the stones and branches and my own face in the water is feline, a primitive mask I take off for shining water underneath.
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Microscopic Mountain
practicing mental gymnastics insipid memories seeping their way past defensive buffers remembering repressed poisons as a catalyst for making wiser decisions lackadaisical reactions to sharply defined parallaxes warrant an immediate shift fractal spectacles the labyrinth of my innards inhale the cosmological smoke of suggestion words become meaningless when repeated exhaustively semantic satiation slicing away at true intentions paving the way to false inventiveness shallow river beds are loud prouder than their counterparts insecurity overshadows a lack of faith in the faint of heart everything worthwhile falls apart
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
deconstruction