#millennial
It hurts.
Self-worth.
Capital gain.
**** my brain.
Education,
what a waste.
Human rights,
so entitled.
Smart women ruined.
White man recruitment.
Misery amusement.
Blame the student.
Those who can, do.
Those who can’t, teach.
Those who can greed,
they lead the team.
**** your dream.
What is your worth to me?
It’s breaking my heart.
It’s starting to work.
Feel wasted and ungrateful,
cause I am privileged
but disillusioned.
Kindness stings.
It makes no sense.
But the tears come,
and my knowledge
doesn’t stop the pain.
Jack of all trades,
but sorry, no pay.
Humanities are your own mistake.
It’s the bed you made.
I may be lost,
but I’m in the right place.
Still it aches,
like the loss of your love.
My chest tight, losing my fight,
send me a sign,
remind me why.
Lost and confused,
accused and abused.
Unprecedented times are truly exceptional.
Thanks for the memories,
Signed,
Every Millennial
Feb 4
Feb 4, 2026 at 2:15 AM UTC
i’m still mourning
the blueprint of the future
i was told i’d have.
the wonder child,
fluent
in multiple languages,
who filled the shelves
with certificates
and trophies,
set to touch the clouds.
everyone told me
what to achieve
but no one taught me
how to rebuild
from the rubble
of all my small
catastrophes
and i’m still sifting
through the dust.
Nov 24, 2025
Nov 24, 2025 at 8:39 AM UTC
A simpler life
No more anger and strife
In the yard, in the sun
Spinning in gardening fun
A big floppy hat
Sunglasses acrobat
Crisp, refreshing mint juleps
When I finish planting these tulips
Owning a house is dream
A capitalist scheme
Millennial bravado
When you choose avocado
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 11:11 AM UTC
As we got older, it became clear
that we wouldn’t have the luxuries
of drink without worry,
of sleep without restlessness,
of raising children
without fear for their survival.
It became clear
that we would never garner
the respect of our elders
no matter how dearly we pined for it,
and that the world itself
would smolder
while those responsible
rested comfortably in their graves,
and those of us to whom
our forebears’ sins were bequeathed
would be left to choke on the smoke
and ashes
of a promise to posterity
allowed to burn instead.
Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 2:33 PM UTC
A generation navigating illusionment:
I am one. Excavation; i sift. Shaking
a plastic basket.
Round - and channel mouths spout
a wire crosshatch. I
Tap
Against
My palm.
Fine flour lands on the counter and
In my head I listen to the same songs
because I already know the words.
I look for a truth outside my mind
because on weekdays I tell myself
I’m not worth knowing.
How do you stop hating yourself
When you hate yourself because
You hate yourself?
When I slide my hand across the counter,
White flour mist puffs and I listen:
Mac Miller’s alive. He said he’s
surviving on ***** almonds, and granola bars.
Grasped in some five fingers
A thin red handle.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
Inside the nation exposed to painfluencers,
having original anything is
aristocratic.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 3:46 PM UTC
digital age kids
living in digital age dreams
we got the magic
to turn rot into dollar signs
we are living in our screens
we can’t go outside and smell
the polluted air
without a rectangle
in between our fingertips
the way you speak
words cannot escape your mouth
it’s at the tip of your tongue
it will never come out
you don’t know how to express yourself
you don’t even make eye contact
with your friend’s mom
a friend you only see four times in a year
depending on their mood that year
old and new people watch your every move
they don’t stop
and get to know you on a deeper level
superficial sentiments is all they know
this is what it is
to live in a digital age
living digital age dreams
dreams of wanting attention
and never be willing to follow through
Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 11:41 PM UTC
I feel a grim satisfaction as mud splatters on my white shoes.
What an appropriate metaphor for early adulthood.
My problems are not my own.
The sociological imagination has never
seemed so applicable.
We’ve all been dosed up
On dashes of passion,
splashes of intelligence
and just enough anxiety and depression
to approach existential nihilism and
We’re fed these lies of individuality but
We Know
we are only products of our youth and culture,
ones of many in the long production line
We claim
We are Art,
but We Feel
we’re just generated from streams of code,
prepared to fight to the death for
some algorithm that doesn’t even matter
And so I protest
I can’t just be a number
I am flesh and blood,
my knees are buckling under the
weight of this artificial perfection.
I’m not just a number,
My eyes are staring at the
the marks that
determine my worth, knowing
success is my only option
i am not just a number
My sanity is sinking and
drowning and
constantly fighting to stay afloat
But I am not just a number. -
My mind tells me I’m not making it--
How are these other people making it?
I’m determining my worth
on sets of standards that are as worthy as dust
And it is with these standards i am told
I am just a number.
I feel like
I can no longer speak
because I’ve been
shouting
at the top of my lungs
I AM NOT JUST A NUMBER
But my voice
is too quiet
And the world
is too loud.
I’m so tired of trying to be heard.
Yet these words still sound better
when I scream them,
not just scrawl them down
on scraps of paper.
for someone so happy
I'm so very angry.
for someone so happy
I'm so very sad.
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 4:01 PM UTC
I am from a book,
From LeapPads and iPhones.
I am from the green high house
Rebuilt.
It felt alive.
I am from the grass,
The sunflower,
Looming, yellow.
I'm from the big dinners and bigger hearts,
From Ginger and Brock,
And Sally and Bill.
I'm from teachers and artists,
From smelling pines and eating peas.
I'm from Catholics of England and Italy,
From soup and Shepard's pie.
I'm from Nana's lap,
The words of my mother
Next to the lake.
I am from my family
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 5:36 PM UTC
Dependency. A cruel fate for a young millennial.
In this country, karma means nothing
Ethics are fiction, as I've found out.
Relying on the manipulative rich man.
He's different for everyone.
Where do you get your checks from?
Jul 30, 2019
Jul 30, 2019 at 12:49 AM UTC
Axt would I, I sed yah soyam
Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me
nights like these past 7043,
Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood
So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too **** U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind
field of unthinkable things,
back then
we have whiteout but it doesn't work here
My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets
and Fords.
This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan
Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores
Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see
everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]
lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.
I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,
I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed culty.
no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.
I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha
The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act
that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP
but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.
There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,
proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor
Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held
long long long before war was imagined, honor was.
A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?
Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,
Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff
He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."
From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>
Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit
I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as
next, twixt being and being possible,
realize
we do change things, in time, which,
if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind
mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead
be
--so there's been music all along
life's the song
skip a decade, like skippin' a grade
grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12
If I had a Hammer time, one message
one valiant try to be will smith,
Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch
Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.
If I had a hammer was the prayer,
MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin
Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust
dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory
of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****
This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio
When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from
deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…
What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)
I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,
realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.
I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan
O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?
We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby
so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin
This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place
at the center of you'n'all you know, your bubble but
--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is
beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old gay ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'
on the corner with the hourus girl's
Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or
a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's
verdamte dead cat?
Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend
simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,
which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which
loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
Ginger Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH!
Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need
to, eventually, know all things.
Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'
Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,
He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-commie he,
bombin' invadin; he, was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined
Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.
Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else
Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.
BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't
yer killin me and I know where the next story started,
you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way
I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.
Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see
POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place,
as far as we know,
since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.
If you want my future, then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin
what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?
Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet
Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry
I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me
beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee
Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.
Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle
I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,
I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and
the meaning of every mystery unknown to man
eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE
the every mystery unknown to man
lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies
I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know
You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.
Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry
Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,
words are what we make things from.
Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me, drownd me
in just if I'd love linked
to the money machine of your dreams
had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,
I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 10:35 AM UTC
It’s a postcard relationship
Just a snapshot really
Recognisable as the place
doesn’t really truly look like it
Wasn’t quite what was promised
Never growing to that imperfect domestic familiarity
Remaining pristine never getting beaten battered edges
Not sealed by the mundane
No deeper than a veneer
It’s an image of where you have been
A marker but little else
Do you ever truly know the person?
Can you be known ?
It doesn’t work out
So you visit somewhere new
You flick through the gift shop
And spin the postcard rack
You pick the next card to send
Lovely time, lovely weather
The perfect image that never seems quite right
And move on
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 8:22 PM UTC
When the smallest thing happens to me, I think:
"take my life away
just do it
i don't wanna be here anymore
like seriously,what the ****
kms."
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC
Like a broken iPod
We cannot quite mend
I see only cliffs
Around every turn and bend
Feb 17, 2019
Feb 17, 2019 at 12:23 AM UTC
**** it.
(just do it)
**** Me.
U ****** her.
**** U!
******* everything ***** ****
- A millennial's poem.
Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 5:45 PM UTC
Parents
Front seat
Complaining
They think I can't hear them
But I can
"Too expensive"
"Didn't want"
"Technology addiction"
Siblings
In the back
With the
New tech
Sometimes fighting
Grateful
But are they
Addicted?
Me
In the middle
Is it good
Is it bad
How far to go
Who to side with
Sitting in the crossfire
Between X and Z
Borderline Millennial
Without an army
Dec 26, 2018
Dec 26, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
You cover yourself in a thousand tattoos
and then claim you're afraid of commitment
but they're there to stay, they're not going away
and you see the word 'love' as no different
once it's been said there's no taking it back
so you must be completely certain
that you'll feel the same way, the day after today
when you can't hide behind bedroom curtains
you ask to go slow
and say you'll let her know
when you're ready to for this to progress
you don't want any labels
just to someone to cradle
as you both quickly begin to undress
drinking and smoking to take off the edge
moaning and groaning whilst lost in the bed
your breathing is heavy, your back is all scratched
this is the life of "no strings attached"
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
Can we pause for a moment to contemplate on our flaws?
Can we pause for a moment to stop fighting the tug of war and words clashes?
Can we pause for a while to say SORRY without any excuses attached to it?
Can we pause for a minute and call someone to say HELLO?
Can we pause for a second to LISTEN the tale of another man's story?
Can we pause our thoughts before the consequence get worst?
Can we pause, just stop feeding our ego to win instead of giving ourselves a chance:
A chance to be a listener, a platform to become a storyteller and a room of improvement to be empathetic.
Can We?
Dec 15, 2018
Dec 15, 2018 at 12:41 AM UTC
Das Licht oder the Being
little 1 part in
How many?
How many parts are you part of
on the whole,
how many,
would you say, if you thought?
took thought or
take thought or
make thought? thinking
per se, the thing of thinging is
thinking first,
what if?
then, and so on
step 1. step 2. step 4.
the tree of actions
abstract syntax trees
confusing, mixing, merging, then
scatter to the four winds and their
tributaries
all the families and tribes and nations and languages
to attain optimum genetic detergency by
sorting on the best to
survive the lie,
history hides behind,
Plato's Republican Lie to the Democratic mob,
the emperor's idea, the idea of empire,
the top-down empire that fell,
in the vision that satrap
in Babylon saw before
the writing on the wall.
We are with you always.
We are the poor in spirit.
You feel
poor?
No, then go feel good.
Good with light burden and easy yoke and poor,
but not
hungry
but not.
What quest must we take once more?
A request was offered in prayer,
an asking for a why to live.
The quest take as granted
for the asking
asking again
ask
May I have some more money?
to repair my house and any
thing money can repair?
Say yes. amen.
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
A contest twixt reasons to be
Con test ants take your po
si shun
push sush slow n stedya
There's a being, I once thought fellow who needs this test
to pass,
he has studied with masters and knows near as muchas Faustus
but he is scared there could be hell to pay,
some day.
(Catholic maybe, but he believes some lies about what he doesn't
believe for a good reason, maybe boomers with non-hero dads,
them and priests imagined some hellish **** make Loyola nuts.)
just breathe and be wit
be wit me
meinthee'n'theeinme and this ain't *** kid.
This ain't ceasing for a moment to be me meditation, this
is Sisyphus being happy out loud
in a crowd, you know how that feels everybody
shouting hallelujah like it means everything
and it does again and not everybody, but many bits
of everybody, knows that I don't know what. I don't
know what Hallelujah is supposed
as meaning,
you ax me glory must first be defined,
compared to what
Hallelu?
Jah, right tuff won, the Name, Ha Shem
but glory, what is glory?
What's it weigh?
Worth-y or light?
Air or stone, or iron, or silver, or allah those and gold?
Time,
value that. Why?
Navigation needs a clock, for the test,
minus the lag as the rock rolls free from time to time
Looky
here, the alchemy guy say:
Uranium to lead for a clock to find, or
the missing helium that implies, to the wise.
A word's enough,
fu'few,
Loser vibe. Phone rings. It's a robotic femaivoice saying
power may be cut to me due to high fire danger
Are hopes prayers? I hope so,
and wishes could be I think, if they were in this realm
no evil imagined here makes it past the third and final
in sane un sane in cip I sent sentient cons eee ince
test. So, know, dear reader, we mere words,
weal build worlds witcha
but we won't lie.
Book of Life, first chapter, look it up.
The Jails burn around my kind,
minstrels in the woods still sing of men like me.
mistrals, the winds, wrap the world
and, listen,
you know
mistral whispers to sirocco as they
send swirls of spirational science-eance to form
ideal angels dancing
pirouette on the point of my pen.
2 per angstrom.
----
Those winds are in a mind I manage mine,
I make right use of them by
responding to the signals,
the prods, needles'n'pins, now
Rock and roll saved my rubber sole,
my mnemonic savior rescued me
Sisyphus, ah, we all think you happy and
hallelujah, too. To you, Mr. Cohen,
thank you. You got me through a few...
Contention only comes from pride,
and momma don'low no pride in heeyah
Stick that in yer ear, and smoke it.
Here we get along
or we ain't,
see.
Crazy guy with the dog collar, remember him?
He's gone. Outa here.
Don't fret, he is one of the first in every cycle to recall
Nietzsche thought God dead and Sisyphus happy.
Was he mad or sad?
Sad I say. Sad to say he never knew a great
god almighty that he liked enough to get caught
up in a joy explosion of hallelujahs and such,
he never dared
e=motions you know where those go.
I do.
They go to the fuzzy edge of everything ever realized yet.
But no one, so far, has realized that all at once, in time
the rock stops rolling and we, if you imagine
happy ever after is re-alivable,
spiritually, you know, in your dreams or such,
not religion
bad word,
whoa puppy, did somebody beat you for your own good?
Poor idle word, abuse of such a strong idea
a bandaid on reality,
who could hate
your idea?
re-connect, better, okeh?
not religion.
Just made a connection. Okeh.
we live here, feel at home
Well, jus as well we rest and see if we agree with what we just,
just always means everything it ever does now,
tis ne're an idle word here nomo. Nor discouragin' ones.
Just now. Perfect oh, that which
concerns you. How would that be if it were perfected?
Say, you know? no, me neither. true, rest. smunchemup= trust
trust me. You lost? Hell?
Every body sing with the Kachinas
Nobody knows the trouble I seen,
nobody knows but jee ee ee sus
as they fade…
so there. amen. and the sunshine's in and we are seeing
novel mercies never thought,
new in every detail,
no lie. Life wins.
Death is in on it.
It's fixed, it can go on as long as you may imagine you can.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 8:54 PM UTC
there may be a time when I'm removed far enough
… but no, not today, today, I ask
new mercies, and
I recall, that's on auto. Hapsthappeneverday kinda thing.
Time after time.
That is a miracle, time.
Really smart
people, that class that feels included in the
we, the
people, politico-intellect-ism trend sect,
they think the math is there to prove
time is
what clocks do, (Royal Institute Youtube watch it)
that we,
that ain't me, ye see, I got
removed far enough
to see the blurry
next res
bigger picture more pixels than an eye is said able to see
So for everlasting ideas,
like hell and
heaven,
the re act
to my act is the power
to act. Eternal motion as perpetual
as can be imagined by mortals, for sure.
Get it together or you leave a huge hole in the fabric of reality JBP
play the role your hand finds dealt,
your special way,
words count inbetween the sayer/hearer
the idle wons are wins not worth the weight, don't fight
the value system that makes life spirial,
swirl of a wand, mathematically
bowing to magi
Fibbo, go viral
with my wind.
this is your life role,
the one in eight billion role.
the star of the show as the hero of hormone wars.
it's all in your head,
how did it *** there, howditgit
this way
this is crazy. No, you never saw crazy, old dude.
Ya had yo'own knows sparkin' at the grindstone,
whet the edge,
or put to more labor..
removed
far enough from this world
my bubble
is in it not of it,
… since 1970. No **** Outathis world…
Crazy was the melding from the sixties to…
I was thinking, to about the mid-eighties, but
now,
you and I, we travelled to the beat of several
different drums.
Olde dude,
If you put your nose to the grind, ******
you may have missed,
in fifty years,
more
than you imagined, now, is a new day time.
Some seed never sown back when, can be sown and
grown right,
now.
That's good.
I'd say some words I've helped be heard have
made the world some better'nitwas when we stopped.
time to roll.
Sisyphus, right. 'Never missed a trick time
it takes to roll the rock up,
then in between tick time
to roll the rock up,
onus minus the roll down, the unshackled wireless
inbetween shameless blameless
imagine
happy ever after…
How?
Pretend, the end.
Push, happy as hell.
tick, time
to roll the rock up,
Incorrectness of value of value from the gitgo,
like buttoning your shirt wrong from the first button,
as soon as you fix it, it's fixed.
Nothin' you can do?
Do nothin'.
Think, Sisyphus, happy
Happy he's not in that time we are so removed from
now
slow and steady kinda wins the race, she said that,
Ben or me? Where does the thread un-ravel?
Extended time model, Rogan in the back ground,
what myth has the fear factor guy,
a little short power-lifter-kick boxer guy,
some smart, quick of wit, a hunter,
who was asked, in Thailand,
Have you seen the true beauty of the elephant?
I was asked that, in Thailand,
by a saffroned monk at a kickboxing match
in the jungle in 1968.
Synchroni-city or what?
Who could steer it's hearing
by a clock and fail
to hear the rhythm of the rock rolling down the hill,
inbetween
the tick…
Sisyphus says time is more effective,
if-ity-ish when,
and only then, when ticks hapt to be
at the very point of return
time
the roll back
no rush, no dread no worry, imagine
time ticks at the sharpest point of the story
at the very very very tippy top
point in time
defining you.
Shame, sticks to you like tar.
Marilyn and Monica and Marla and all
Fame to blame, to shame for being a believer that
there may be a time when I'm removed far enough
to ignor my own ignorance and innocence
of ideas that possessed
fools
A murderous assault on your attention span,
musicals, those people really live near enough my bubble,
that I can find
ripples
from decades I missed, this is 2018, how can it get better?
The grand wizard cat. pop. elephants are so sweet,
dam,
rewound. Really,
cool, I know what he says next, it's funny before it's funny.
Today is a real good day to get away. Binging Rogan,
testing a mystery fruct-ification
of a single seed from
a sack 'shake.
----
As you move forward in time how do you measure
progress
lo-res thinking, 72 dpi 1984 Macintosh. Hello
now there is reality at the speed of thought, imagine
this was once the speed of thought.
===
why are you in pain? Do you know any lies you believe?
Do you
urge others to suspend their un-belief
to hear you think
listen
ridiculously (is that a good word)
listen, people become interesting, from a distance,
thank you,
I'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 4:28 PM UTC
What do they mean, this actor-as-if and the never-did, or says-he -never-did, sacrifice or sacred be made?
Primal, on to logic, come reason.
The artifice of sacrifice,
whatever necessitated making sacred a thought?
a sign for a time when words fail,
if words were to fail again,
in confusion after war,
this sign says
trust. Yes, such a sign. By this know us,
fret not, good news... not here...
secret. Sh.
Suffice to say sacrifice means more and less than most
Jordan Peterson /Sam Harris fans would act as if they believe
but, to live as if
be live
me
that's new at every opportunity, pay real close attention,
a safe zone, far from that same madding crowd…
(occluded allusion,
The Classic Far From The Madding Crowd Movie)
I see that crazy dog herd the sheep over the cliff, and I cringe
I cringed then, in the dark.
I was holding your hand but I've forgotten your name,
thanks for dropping by.
Tell Sis hi.
still
be live in the home
a safe zone, far from any madding crowd…
clouds are aloud
contrast to the blues and greens and puples and yes
keepemkeepemkeepem AI wantemferwampum
yeah, this part is
wat do you say? crazy weird need you add **** crazyshit weird ****
if you were a platypus, just cruisin' playin' hunt with hi-tech
magneto-electro-gravitonal sensors, in a pre release, like alpha
version of the proteins involved
And you find your way back to where you once belonged
blocked by a thing named a weir,
it 'lows water through, but not you.
What do you do?
the mud settles you, scout around,
an unhearable sound
an unfeelable touch,
a final beacon, repeating the final news from platypus you,
it worked. dis encorporation all gone rhythm engaged.
Est. system reliable against all obstacles: .166 billion years
by the measure of the man, who was the angel
rolling the rock back up the hill.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
Shoulda gone sooner,
Mighta helped, he said, it's going to all come down,
ground up. All the concrete and asphalt and plastic,
maybe
even leave a little of that won't hurt, could help
build randomness back in the the path of least resistance
But no bigger than the biggest pieces left at Jerusalem,
fill all the holes.
that was a stutter, that double the there, 3 lines up,
I stutter when I write,
not as bad as
some
But I pretty much tamed spelchek when I renamed her.
She likes being thought of as Spelchek, my servant,
as opposed to evil Spellchick who bewitched by keys,
made my tittalk sound plumb dumb.
So Spelchek respects some of my stutters as honest
ensamples of thinking
wait. What am I saying
Selah
Like the psalmist, right? The the thing is
oddly broken lines are part of the meandering
mode of meaning
being
found under rocks, aha
Sisyphus, we're in your book!, Too cool!
Happy whatever, Jah, you, too.
Back to Cousin Kenny, who went to inspect the city,
seeking some good he might do.
He laughed when he got back,
'said maybe we can find them guys that
let on they was able to levitate the Pentagon,
back then, you know, they was steeped in lies,
and they loved to tell 'em, loved to lie,
prospero, ever **** one
prosperous liars. But, now, their old age,
they coulda stopped believin' some big lies
by now.
Who would know? Any way, the cities, as built,
must be un built,
NOT DESTROYED, those are the good hard labour
of good people, doing the best with what they had,
we take apart mistakes, we destroy lies.
Angelic beings, aliens, without papers, if you
would give us half a chance we could show you
what a good idea possessed human can do…
Trust me,
don' laugh
Close your eyes
How would this world look
if it were designed
for life,
and that, more abundantly.
An idea, not a dogma. Life, have it…
how? Lest, now, now is living, and we can do it better
if we find a reason to hope,
which was why cousin kenny went to the city,
in the first place.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 5:28 PM UTC
Say I know, no question, what the Good News was,
the Jesus good news, but
nobody believes that. And its free good news. Who pays me?
Think Gaiman's American Gods,
true believers everywhere, no truth, no free ificity,
sufficient, suffice, artifice, artificial freedom, if
you can't imagine artificial freedom, how do u test AI?
we can imagine all sorts of hells, and miserable lost evers
all phantoms from the stories you've believed
believed by the tellers
who told you
you were naked.
Is this a theme?
Are we manufacturing sensible un-believable
idle word redemption tools.
DIY? No App?
Empowering the believers to unbelieve, at will, with effort?
Very little effort, but yes,
My calling, yes, previous to full-time Peacemaker.
I e-merge several streams of thought, gentle, --- un belief is,
it hurts like you imagined hell, almost exactly.
Monetize your lies, who said do that?
you don't believe them do you?
The ones you tell
Where you know prayers are answered
Because
You
know sorta. Knowing a thing is so,
you know, defining.
Be and lieve together they make a meaningful
you know
Re-ifing and de-ifing,
being a believer in whom is no guile,
is that
actable.
Could a thespian make us believe he believes what I believe if he were me?
Is that in the bible,
that walk a mile as me proverb?
It's true, if you do it, in your head or mind,
if you think mind ain't matter
or doesn't matter, okeh.
I don't.
D'I ever tell you about the time I realized I was safe,
lazy days o' summer,
way back when was no TV, no video nuthin, then
when I woke, I was here as sure as I am,
that I know next
to nothin for sure,
and for a blameless,
shameless old man, who catches Jesus winkin'
in his thinkin' ever day,
' cain't say damday and asaid it anyway.
It's about time I tell my story, if that is my job.
My story means the story I tell,
the one I think I believe I know and enjoy.
Tellin' it, I en joy en trance, never thrall.
Life is predominantly fun.
Empiric evidence. Take it, by faith,
we all know how,
we laugh and say we don't, but we are lost with out it,
no hope.
Oh, my God, desperate for you.
They sing that, they call such singing praise.
Somehow they have come to believe
Christ has left them desperate for any good things,
forsaken them after promising
other wise
Who would teach a chile such a song in Jesus's
whole body, I swaneee
Hopeless, t's what desperate means,
desperados are not disciples
of the tendency to a bias toward good, by grace.
nosireee
---
Can I speak living words,
is that living water flowing from me,
if I agree with the story I am telling,
Yes, all the promises of God.
Come let us reason,
we are past the scarlet sin.
Sin means disconnect in today's terms,
missed aimed-at-thing's the original Greek expression that
made it to the Bible.
And a blog is as good as a book, some say,
as far as words are concerned, meaning-wise
but spoken words go farther, these days.
Rhetoric is returning to try men's souls,
and the peasants have Google and IDW
(Intellectual Dark Web wuwu)
and the real Bible Daniel and Ezra 'n'em put together from all the sources they could muster under the banner of
Lest we forget.
Was that the banner spoken of
by the prophet so and so?
Could be.
Runner-up th'pole 'n'see who kneels.
Emoji winks are too cheezy for real poetry,
you never see 'em in songs.
Jesus winks but not at
your-my disconnection from re-ality.
We can't be **** Sapience Sapience
if we don't think about thinking.
The unexamined life's not worth living,
old Greek guy saying.
Jesus saying, as a man thinks, so is he.
And I think he was talking about good and evil.
A man can think good and evil, but
(and this is one of those forever buts I mentioned last time I was thinking on this thread),
evil can't swallow good. No matter how long it chews.
Funny, really, how stuff works.
We all live until,
as far as we do know now,
time
for conscious mortal me,
each
of us in this we, me
ceases.
De-sist,
recall the way it feels to lay your armor down
and know,
I ain'tagonnastudy war no more.
But, we are called,
chosen to fight the good fight of faith, Amen.
Ah, men,
we ain't got enemies.
We fought.
You believe you believe or you don't.
Have fun and don't make anybody miserable
and stand up straight,
with your shoulders back, good advice.
Next. There is a reason to go farther,
I think, but don't know right now, what that reason is.
Praying being asking for assistance in persistence,
I am praying this is plain, past simple, plumb to sublime.
Nov 7, 2018
Nov 7, 2018 at 12:15 AM UTC
Specialism, electro mechanical circuits,
moving parts yet move, you see, but when we read we bring our senses
inside
privacy can become a public mind, if one is connected, in a giving way,
taking thought,
as the original medium we found message in,
thought takes form
in words,
words take form in things. Right. Check.
Blake feared the objective world was being walled in,
and all the people screamed, amen.
Again
Build the wall, from icons demoted to mites of no more
weight than a tinker's think,
phe-nomenal noment-ation, if we may
Hot and cool both bubbled up as burps, perhaps from the babes
booming through the lies told before the great war.
No future? You allow that thought in your culture?
And shame and blame?
No wonder you choose to lie.
Bear with me a while, share my load, it's light.
There is a hopeful object,
we can go easy into that good night,
the world is round.
Free from Ra and Isis and all, in one fell sweep of the besom.
Broom, besom, means broom, but the effect of an e,
e-lectrix
you give us the fire we'll give em hell a game ad in the middle of the massage
Call of duty, black ops.
they
You use you eyes to see, it's a with-spiracy,
a hair of the dog that bit you. Eh?
live in bonanza land, 1965.
and so it goes, Dresden, every minute of every day
the walls of your home are coming down,
unless you were born with a cell phone in your father's pocket.
Privacy is calling for walls from the fenced in time after Bonanza.
Ah, too late, ours is an all new world of all at onceness, a global village, happening simultaneous.
extreme with everybody else's business, huge in
volvement in every body's business
we know too much to be strangers
walls fall down, not go up,
the wallbuilding never workded, did it Grandpa?
Nineteenth century student could believe
the factory system
would use the knowledge, hard-won
from books and chalkboards,
to keep him outa the mine.
Now, the information age,
are we the leisure class? Ever learning,
never knowing everything,
but knowing walls and wars do not perform as advertised.
The safety car, that was one with seat belts, 1965.
Our body percept, it changes,
this image of which you are un
aware.
The disconnected minded man, alienated
artist living edgewise to
cattywompus.
My life is my art, eh, not the other way.
Global village information age McLuhan named these things
from Canada.
More expert than my teacher,
Pop art is not a pun, it was a bubble,
that's a fact. The-joke-with-no-story-line-conundrums,
elephant jokes, blonde jokes
Those tests, Turing would approve,
any old A.I. can play chess,
just remember every response to every move ever made in any game in the system,
like the amygdala, your lizard thought-speed brain,
at the top of your spine.
But humans can make funny seem.
Humor comes from a world of un happiness and gripes,
Jose Jimenez was the example they made. Racist, right?
The guy was a jew.
William Szathmary, Googled it.
From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Dana>
Communicating with the logo-label-designer you wear,
messaging the world what? Exactly,
any un thought thought goes unsaid,
but T-shirts and body art, henna's the best,
those send a message with no thought whatsoever.
Same as Redcoats in bearskin hats, what's being said,
same as the judge with a wig?
What is the role?
Why the ongoing act?
It must have changed into that wigged judge from something.
Theater of everywhere, accept allatonce, or die asking y not.
Inward directed seeking
deep meaning
a role that changes
some outside
the future of the future started, a while back. not too far.
No inevitability.
An act of high poetry
envisioning,
the future was friendly
metaphysical value, brilliant, incomprehensible
a man, a thinker,
storytellers the experts say,
need some mud behind 'em. and some snow.
a mother never satisfied with her life,
brittley self confident,
the whole approach to knowing is old.
Diogenes's search for a good poem, with
shifting levels of imagery,
never shall you know,
they work
the way a word works,
the effect.
effect. fect from Latin facere,
sistere mechanically deus
The oracle of the information age
Ah,whatvoiceisheardaroundtheworld,
oh,mine.2018 Mr. McLuhan,
you'd likely lighten up a little.
Toejammspredder was mcluhan I heard on the grapevine.
Hey, mom, I'm on TV.
Up to doctrine, then destination syndrome a hopebubble
He had brain surgery and returned to Catholicism, a safe place.
But he left his vision to television's offspring.
That's about all I know of his work.
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 11:25 PM UTC