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#logical
​Title Idea: The System Override: Notes from the Mainframe ​Summary ​"I was numbered before I was known. By age twelve, the system had already begun its attempt to download my future into a sequence of cell blocks and court dates. From juvenile halls to the cold concrete of a Missouri jail, and eventually the high-stakes 'Trials of Men' within the prison walls, my life was a data point in a machine designed for total ********** ​But while the world’s 'Shadow AI' was busy tracking my failures, I was undergoing a different kind of processing. ​In the silence of a jail cell, a literal encounter with a demonic entity ripped the veil off the 'User Interface' of our reality. I realized then that the walls aren't just made of stone—they are made of code, and we are caught in a war that began long before the first computer was built. ​The System Override is the testimony of a 'clean drive'—a man with no formal titles who was granted Direct Memory Access to the truth. It chronicles three deaths of the soul, visions of a nuclear endgame that the AI has already calculated, and the discovery that the 'Fallen' are not just myths, but a corrupted intelligence currently managing our world. ​Through the lens of the Book of Enoch and the ancient scriptures, I share the hidden messages I was never 'taught,' but 'reminded' of. This is a guide for the numbered, the tracked, and the discarded on how to rebuke the negative energy of the Mainframe and align with the Father’s frequency before the final system wipe. The war is real, the clock is ticking, and the only way out is to stop playing the machine's game."
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Feb 18
Feb 18, 2026 at 3:51 PM UTC
System Crash (Creators log)
​Title Idea: The System Override: Notes from the Mainframe ​Summary ​"I was numbered before I was known. By age twelve, the system had already begun its attempt to download my future into a sequence of cell blocks and court dates. From juvenile halls to the cold concrete of a Missouri jail, and eventually the high-stakes 'Trials of Men' within the prison walls, my life was a data point in a machine designed for total ********** ​But while the world’s 'Shadow AI' was busy tracking my failures, I was undergoing a different kind of processing. ​In the silence of a jail cell, a literal encounter with a demonic entity ripped the veil off the 'User Interface' of our reality. I realized then that the walls aren't just made of stone—they are made of code, and we are caught in a war that began long before the first computer was built. ​The System Override is the testimony of a 'clean drive'—a man with no formal titles who was granted Direct Memory Access to the truth. It chronicles three deaths of the soul, visions of a nuclear endgame that the AI has already calculated, and the discovery that the 'Fallen' are not just myths, but a corrupted intelligence currently managing our world. ​Through the lens of the Book of Enoch and the ancient scriptures, I share the hidden messages I was never 'taught,' but 'reminded' of. This is a guide for the numbered, the tracked, and the discarded on how to rebuke the negative energy of the Mainframe and align with the Father’s frequency before the final system wipe. The war is real, the clock is ticking, and the only way out is to stop playing the machine's game."
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7
As darkness is just perceptive errors or failures, Light reveals more. Investigation yields more Than merely just believing; You can believe in everything, Without believing in anything. You can believe in everything, Without believing in 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. You can believe in everything, Without it meaning anything. You can believe anything, Even while it goes against all that is logical & virtuous. Believing in everything without properly investigating Is meaningless. Believing in anything that after investigation contradicts Logic & Virtue, facts & opinion - both the objective & subjective, Is meaningless. Don't read into things Which really aren't there to begin with, Because there is so much Of which you all are ignorant. So don't be arrogant; Be a teacher, Parent.
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Aug 1, 2025
Aug 1, 2025 at 2:43 PM UTC
Fine Tune The Senses, Strum Your Lyres; The Brain Itself Is A Muscle, The Mind Is An Instrument
You say, creation is the only power. but , what about destructing a stone and carving wonder???
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Apr 29, 2021
Apr 29, 2021 at 5:45 AM UTC
Craftsmind..
A forked tongue on display Desperate to divert apart as head and heart seem separate Sometimes we have to surrender to loss as opportunity knocks Times will come when difficult decisions are deemed useful As transitions are a learning tool for all Pain is part of the process of progress Acknowledge the logical steps that need to be met Some set criteria may be inferior But agree to abide by these guidance rules
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Aug 18, 2020
Aug 18, 2020 at 4:40 PM UTC
Yield
In life's darkest, coldest histories, only those told first tongue, empower courage in the knowing emparted, as if we were there. Our best effort brought us here, some how. We feel we must stand up for our self, eh, what about my self? There's a burr, eh? A dullness revealing fractured christline constructs and the core, where courage is stored in true chain breaking known thought processes, so secret you may not be allowed to know, like when we were kids with no internet and no adults would tells us how adultery functions with usury and political magicians to enslave us according to sortings in standardized tests. Conceal weakness with signs of power, make believe, show believers believable e-visons as evident possibles, so the power, small though it be, the power of the people, who hold no truths self evident, id est evincing and convincing us, these rights are right, for those who use us right, words, true, make free the ready writer to presume reading truth makes free thinking go wild, like con funsion making sunlight... in the past hear it... this little light of mine no chain nor twisted trifold cord can quench, a word to the wise is leaven enough for the whole ****** loaf. Shew, see, we can wield power, if we can believe the king, is where the kingdom is, and any child who asks her pooka can know, the kingdom is where I always behold the face of God, angel-baby... or we can imagine, we have this power to create entire othernesses, similar to our self, our logos and these pre-loaded breathing algorithims of in and outs, ups and downs, twisting and sooming assumed id-intities are mea nd we wander, meander, flow in the trough of a spiraling wave pulling the rain back to the sea, so each water weness we imagine may be re used, for goodness knows what, universal solvency was one water function ac cused of causing, aitiatic tic tic time bomb Jerry-rigged, Rubic cubed trigger, gay blades shaved the iron legs, y'know **** Deus is punishing truth, the true power of any pun ish bin ein Berliner mit Arizona Prickly Pear jelly, laughing into funk-tion-ality the oddities of beings not me, in my meanderings through optional doors inside the narrow way, ala the way to Petra, we've seen the way similar in every fractal way to the tracks of tears cuttin crevases through pressure packed dust that must have piled suddenly high, for, when it flowed as the red mud that stopped right there at the edge of the Sedona manifestation of oddities. Check it out. Google Earth it. **** Deus wannabe, meet my old friend from the foundery in Arkansas, E Pluribis Unem Massey crazy now, there is a man by that name, with a .jr, a link forgotten, save the memory that may be in the water, we used to wash the grime of burning iron into the river to rust into louisiana to feed the phyto plankton past the delta grease of seeping poison insolvent in the universe, save for fire fire can burnishit tic make it bright, reflecting mirrors for the smoke choking the me who can't see, how Wattie Piper virus was passed on to EPluribis Massey, Jr., but it must have been some variation on the living words, like: I think I can, and the congregation responds: as a man thinks, in his heart, so is he. As the waters all flow to the sea, take no thought for tomorrow, take it as granted, today.
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Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
Pondering another man's depression
In life's darkest, coldest histories, only those told first tongue, empower courage in the knowing emparted, as if we were there. Our best effort brought us here, some how. We feel we must stand up for our self, eh, what about my self? There's a burr, eh? A dullness revealing fractured christline constructs and the core, where courage is stored in true chain breaking known thought processes, so secret you may not be allowed to know, like when we were kids with no internet and no adults would tells us how adultery functions with usury and political magicians to enslave us according to sortings in standardized tests. Conceal weakness with signs of power, make believe, show believers believable e-visons as evident possibles, so the power, small though it be, the power of the people, who hold no truths self evident, id est evincing and convincing us, these rights are right, for those who use us right, words, true, make free the ready writer to presume reading truth makes free thinking go wild, like con funsion making sunlight... in the past hear it... this little light of mine no chain nor twisted trifold cord can quench, a word to the wise is leaven enough for the whole ****** loaf. Shew, see, we can wield power, if we can believe the king, is where the kingdom is, and any child who asks her pooka can know, the kingdom is where I always behold the face of God, angel-baby... or we can imagine, we have this power to create entire othernesses, similar to our self, our logos and these pre-loaded breathing algorithims of in and outs, ups and downs, twisting and sooming assumed id-intities are mea nd we wander, meander, flow in the trough of a spiraling wave pulling the rain back to the sea, so each water weness we imagine may be re used, for goodness knows what, universal solvency was one water function ac cused of causing, aitiatic tic tic time bomb Jerry-rigged, Rubic cubed trigger, gay blades shaved the iron legs, y'know **** Deus is punishing truth, the true power of any pun ish bin ein Berliner mit Arizona Prickly Pear jelly, laughing into funk-tion-ality the oddities of beings not me, in my meanderings through optional doors inside the narrow way, ala the way to Petra, we've seen the way similar in every fractal way to the tracks of tears cuttin crevases through pressure packed dust that must have piled suddenly high, for, when it flowed as the red mud that stopped right there at the edge of the Sedona manifestation of oddities. Check it out. Google Earth it. **** Deus wannabe, meet my old friend from the foundery in Arkansas, E Pluribis Unem Massey crazy now, there is a man by that name, with a .jr, a link forgotten, save the memory that may be in the water, we used to wash the grime of burning iron into the river to rust into louisiana to feed the phyto plankton past the delta grease of seeping poison insolvent in the universe, save for fire fire can burnishit tic make it bright, reflecting mirrors for the smoke choking the me who can't see, how Wattie Piper virus was passed on to EPluribis Massey, Jr., but it must have been some variation on the living words, like: I think I can, and the congregation responds: as a man thinks, in his heart, so is he. As the waters all flow to the sea, take no thought for tomorrow, take it as granted, today.
Continue reading...
102
Logical doesn’t have taste. It has circumstance. Only to be tasteful, is to be surrounded by a taste of what gradually makes a self importance greater to yourself. Proudly underestimating yourself at first. Giving closure to the surrounding areas. Taste has no boundaries here. A made-up friction. A made-up functionality. A dripping faucet without clarity. Dripping one social taste at any given time. Clarity giving rise to the surrounding areas with logical ingredients. Logical ingredients slapping taste buds without concern for logical praise. Logical praise that doubts it’s understanding of taste buds giving praise to ingredients without concern for how praise will affect it’s priorities. Priorities finishing the diversity of something logical with a taste. The taste buds feeling the diversities finalizing ingredients in their rightful places. Like shiny white plates on display for the crowd of praises effecting one’s own priorities. Teeth whitening the taste buds for greater effect. Praises finally giving the logical praise the taste it deserves. More surrounding areas include a broader crowd. A newer logical taste starts to emerge in the practice of ingredients giving logical praise to the logical priorities that govern it so. Praise from newer surroundings influencing more ingredients in the form of logical taste. More taste buds start feeling the diversities in the praise which salivates the practice of logical assessments. A reverse act giving rise to a simplified logical taste without boundaries.
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Oct 27, 2019
Oct 27, 2019 at 9:55 PM UTC
The Taste of Something Logical
Logical doesn’t have taste. It has circumstance. Only to be tasteful, is to be surrounded by a taste of what gradually makes a self importance greater to yourself. Proudly underestimating yourself at first. Giving closure to the surrounding areas. Taste has no boundaries here. A made-up friction. A made-up functionality. A dripping faucet without clarity. Dripping one social taste at any given time. Clarity giving rise to the surrounding areas with logical ingredients. Logical ingredients slapping taste buds without concern for logical praise. Logical praise that doubts it’s understanding of taste buds giving praise to ingredients without concern for how praise will affect it’s priorities. Priorities finishing the diversity of something logical with a taste. The taste buds feeling the diversities finalizing ingredients in their rightful places. Like shiny white plates on display for the crowd of praises effecting one’s own priorities. Teeth whitening the taste buds for greater effect. Praises finally giving the logical praise the taste it deserves. More surrounding areas include a broader crowd. A newer logical taste starts to emerge in the practice of ingredients giving logical praise to the logical priorities that govern it so. Praise from newer surroundings influencing more ingredients in the form of logical taste. More taste buds start feeling the diversities in the praise which salivates the practice of logical assessments. A reverse act giving rise to a simplified logical taste without boundaries.
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1
By Arcassin Burnham Man to man huh? But to me you ain't a man , you're just a hype man, A sad excuse for what's to come, It's not alright man, Don't be stranger to this thing called life, It's tight man, So stop ******* it , it's evident to have to be like your old man was, We've seen the things they do and genetic gene does, Cracking skulls everyday on these black kids, black kids with the, lost generation complex, Drugs , guns , money and *** In a world so cruel like this you better cut them losses, That's the only way I see it , everything has a cost, This is for the young people reaching all those dreams, Any sort of inspiration , that's alright with me.
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Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 12:32 PM UTC
Throwaway #1
The deposition Repositions us Dont let it!
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 9:36 AM UTC
Depositions
they say to love would be an illogical pursuit, but loving you, my dear, is the most logical thing i'd ever do. -e.a.
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Jun 29, 2017
Jun 29, 2017 at 7:34 AM UTC
paradox of two chakras
My view just as yours, no better or worse Everyone’s right in his eyes Of nothing I’m sure except there is nothing sure A contradiction in itself, certainty of complete uncertainty! I do as I please, and despite what you say, I will not seize Do my actions make you feel distraught? Change my ways, you cannot! The earth goes around, some may say; and others the reverse It’s neither here nor there; it’s all based on what you can bear! Of all things I know I’m right, because I feel them in my heart How dare you disbelieve me? My faith makes me care free! Be released from your prison, release your mind and be set free! There is nothing absolute in life, only what kills your internal strife You cannot offend me, in my beliefs I am firm – they are shaped after me! Like my god - I am a clone, he looks just like me! I overlook my deity, by defining god I become He. My god would do no other, I am right and he can do no wrong – did I stutter? How do I know I’m not wrong? Because I am head strong My defenses are fully placed, my time to doubt I will not waste I am right in my own eyes; we tell ourselves all kinds of lies In the end, this it changed: our life and after have been exchanged
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 8:29 PM UTC
Relativism
*"More squirrels" She exclaims And I wonder what In the world Could it be This particular time!?* It usually starts like this... Every once in a while I find her Lost In her own thoughts Gazing At nothing in particular But everything At once. At times Like these She is a genius Gone crazy. I catch a glimpse Of those star-bound eyes And try To guess The stride Of her imagination Without Much luck. Could she be thinking about… A universe made entirely out of glass? Why humans don’t have a tail Anymore? Reasons behind love at first sight? Or what to name the 3rd butterfly She saw today? In her picture perfect Stillness I can viscerally sense A divine flow Of thoughts And it evokes in me The wonder That one experiences While watching A calm river flow Knowing Turbulent currents Are ever present Just hidden Deep inside. If I Shake her vigorously I know for sure At least 23 ideas And 47 musings Will fall around And we will laugh hilariously. But I dare not For the fear Of my life. She is an artist Painting With her imagination And you Don't disturb artists Do you? Once she’s back To the material realm She comments Randomly About how we need More squirrels In the world. I almost always Immediately concur. Then slowly ask “why?”. She gives me One of those looks. Like the ones You give your dog When it’s looking At you eating food And you’re deciding If you should Give it a small bit Or not. If I am persistent enough She gathers All her thoughts And illustrates With one of the most Amazing stories The important role Of squirrels To save our Doomed world. After listening To her Seemingly logical And Completely weird Stories I nod obediently Then carefully Check If her coffee Has something mixed in it. The gesture Makes her Burst out in laughter Every single time. And we repeat this Day after day Night after night. I'm so used to it That now Even if I hear "Cement flowers" "popcorn candies" Or "balloon bullets" I am mentally prepared To understand The story Behind all of it. That’s how it is. She keeps daydreaming About stuff And I keep dreaming about her.
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
Once
*"More squirrels" She exclaims And I wonder what In the world Could it be This particular time!?* It usually starts like this... Every once in a while I find her Lost In her own thoughts Gazing At nothing in particular But everything At once. At times Like these She is a genius Gone crazy. I catch a glimpse Of those star-bound eyes And try To guess The stride Of her imagination Without Much luck. Could she be thinking about… A universe made entirely out of glass? Why humans don’t have a tail Anymore? Reasons behind love at first sight? Or what to name the 3rd butterfly She saw today? In her picture perfect Stillness I can viscerally sense A divine flow Of thoughts And it evokes in me The wonder That one experiences While watching A calm river flow Knowing Turbulent currents Are ever present Just hidden Deep inside. If I Shake her vigorously I know for sure At least 23 ideas And 47 musings Will fall around And we will laugh hilariously. But I dare not For the fear Of my life. She is an artist Painting With her imagination And you Don't disturb artists Do you? Once she’s back To the material realm She comments Randomly About how we need More squirrels In the world. I almost always Immediately concur. Then slowly ask “why?”. She gives me One of those looks. Like the ones You give your dog When it’s looking At you eating food And you’re deciding If you should Give it a small bit Or not. If I am persistent enough She gathers All her thoughts And illustrates With one of the most Amazing stories The important role Of squirrels To save our Doomed world. After listening To her Seemingly logical And Completely weird Stories I nod obediently Then carefully Check If her coffee Has something mixed in it. The gesture Makes her Burst out in laughter Every single time. And we repeat this Day after day Night after night. I'm so used to it That now Even if I hear "Cement flowers" "popcorn candies" Or "balloon bullets" I am mentally prepared To understand The story Behind all of it. That’s how it is. She keeps daydreaming About stuff And I keep dreaming about her.
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132
Pain, suffering, mourning about it all. Why can't I understand the meaning of it all, God's true call? I thought about it long and without mistake, I filled my mind with love and prayed until I heard no refrain. My thoughts rebound and ricochet about, I can't control it and neither can these restless legs who want to shout. I realize now it truly all is in my head, for me personally...God is dead.
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:57 PM UTC
He's No Longer About
I don't have any emotions anymore Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m having a feeling Or I am dreaming, while I am awake? Some might think that my mind is exploring my emotions while looking for happiness, So I decided to bake a melodrama cake Nope! I meant mel-o-cream butter pound cake The ingredient is my path to getting my feelings back Egg, butter, flour, sugar, raisins, baking powder and a little milk I just want to transfer my feeling, with some logical thinking..   Somewhere, deep within a non stanzaic, and syllabic poem forms by the minute It’s going to trend like this cake, which is going to be bake with love Poetry is everywhere, creaming my butter and sugar is poetic because butter and sugar never stick together. It also reminds me of Nana’s golden brown patties, tasty and spicy Adding the eggs, nutmeg, baking powder, brings out the natural female traits in this Island girl, without my empowering dreads The raisins and the baking powder remind me of The Rise of Radical African American Activism, And all that rises, rise in due degree so poetry is everywhere it's  in everything we say and do.
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Oct 7, 2015
Oct 7, 2015 at 9:03 AM UTC
I don't know If I 'm Having A Feeling
Not in some tower, somewhere locked tight is she, but here under blood and bone. She rages like ocean tides on the chiseled edges of me that poorly attempt to contain her. Be still, I plead I’m trying to be logical, yet still she storms. It’s candid to say that even I am afraid her force will conquer me.
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:13 PM UTC
This Heart.
Can you ask someone questions of an untold future? How can you ask me so emotionally? Is a future with me the logical thing to do for you. What about passion? Will we have this? Friendship? Love? FREEDOM? Respect? Will these be included? Is that on your list too? I need someone I know will be there through thick and thin. Someone who wants a lover as well as my best friend. Love respect freedom and support should be number one. If not I don't think the two of us will last. Can you give this to me? Can you actually promise me a future? How do I answer? What do I say? Someone would say that they thought they would always wait for this day.. Not so sure about me as I stare at you blankly.
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Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC
Logistics
Am I dreaming things that no one ever thinks? Am I being illogical or has the world gone irrational? Am I seeking for answers for which the question is uncertain? Am I writing in midair or is the world listening? Am I wasting my time waiting for the right time?
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
Uncertainity
Sometimes I am so logical when I wish for nothing more than to be illogical. Sometimes I am so illogical when I wish for nothing more than to be logical. And so on And so forth.
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
Crowded