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#paradoxical
This law of science, this religious conundrum, this eleventh commandment that must be obeyed, yet asks not for love nor honor, nor that thou shall, it is a force upon us, akin to gravity, invisible, irrefutable, inscrutable, all-powerful, our firmest bedrock beliefs, to die as dust with us. It is no accidental fate twisting, it is the most sensible of the nonsensical, yet tragic. We are born to die, we tarnish, we wither, the fruits of our labor, the progeny of our ***** they…remember to forget us. ~ She likes to sleep in a cold room, every day, even when the subzero external takes lives indiscriminately. And I awake soaking wet, sheen sweated, coated, heated, and philosophically inclined, and physically declined, and write all this poor poetry that is born in ether that dies as bytes of code, and yet will, nay, just may, exist forever in this form, cloaked and uncloaked, both. ~ These are the paradoxical, and though we are each uniquely para, but beside, alongside, near, beyond, we are all assigned to the same fate. It is no way accidental that within this word we humans placed a very human curse, a delicacy of rueful, a hint of the contrary, the delight of the ironic. The very borrowed air we needed to prove our once continued existences lives on long after our any marker we devise, that we leave behind, all crumbles, defeated…is dross, just, dox. 1:49 am Thursday, February 19, 2026 Postscript What does dox mean in paradox? “An opinion or view. Greek doxa, opinion. This has never been an active word-forming element, but appears in but a few words of Greek origin: paradox, from Greek paradoxon, a contrary opinion, from para‑, distinct from; orthodox, from Greek orthos, straight or right; heterodox, from Greek heteros, other.”
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Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 4:55 AM UTC
II The Paradoxical
This law of science, this religious conundrum, this eleventh commandment that must be obeyed, yet asks not for love nor honor, nor that thou shall, it is a force upon us, akin to gravity, invisible, irrefutable, inscrutable, all-powerful, our firmest bedrock beliefs, to die as dust with us. It is no accidental fate twisting, it is the most sensible of the nonsensical, yet tragic. We are born to die, we tarnish, we wither, the fruits of our labor, the progeny of our ***** they…remember to forget us. ~ She likes to sleep in a cold room, every day, even when the subzero external takes lives indiscriminately. And I awake soaking wet, sheen sweated, coated, heated, and philosophically inclined, and physically declined, and write all this poor poetry that is born in ether that dies as bytes of code, and yet will, nay, just may, exist forever in this form, cloaked and uncloaked, both. ~ These are the paradoxical, and though we are each uniquely para, but beside, alongside, near, beyond, we are all assigned to the same fate. It is no way accidental that within this word we humans placed a very human curse, a delicacy of rueful, a hint of the contrary, the delight of the ironic. The very borrowed air we needed to prove our once continued existences lives on long after our any marker we devise, that we leave behind, all crumbles, defeated…is dross, just, dox. 1:49 am Thursday, February 19, 2026 Postscript What does dox mean in paradox? “An opinion or view. Greek doxa, opinion. This has never been an active word-forming element, but appears in but a few words of Greek origin: paradox, from Greek paradoxon, a contrary opinion, from para‑, distinct from; orthodox, from Greek orthos, straight or right; heterodox, from Greek heteros, other.”
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26
What author ever brought stigma To the metal meat of argumentation Based on green fly baking pies With themselves in them The steady guillotine raises the mundane To the the top of the pops As Capricorn is still seen as the leading star sign/ Boombox tarries the accolhaud of prim, caught Out of the corner of the eye smoking signs While vampires need to throw their teeth into art Where they discover black chalk And as my mum says ' some pregnant women crave eating coal' And Become narcissistic mothers. In the rudeness of the magic however, There is a burst of both lazy Equally inspired But with the correct resources never aggravated tapestry. As the galaxy sighs.
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Feb 3, 2025
Feb 3, 2025 at 4:53 PM UTC
Rags
The pleasure is all mine when I see a nickel on the sidewalk while on my way to the bus-stop nearby, and when I, the fast traveller, see a piece of weathered poster whirled up in the wind and then laid there on the roadside forgotten, yet still retaining its hue vivid —the colors are still lively at the least, nevertheless.     My heart grows into full vivacity     when I see such serendipity so small, glowing in brilliance yet so lucid, in a manner ever graceful —no matter how tiny that is—     from the bottom of my heart          —I'm being accepted     into thy blissfulness, which may hold     the wonders of the world     ever imaginable.
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Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 5:41 AM UTC
Serendipity
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say? Forget it—never mind, You wouldn’t understand anyway, Would you even know what it's like? Inside a scattered disconnected mind, Employed to go on strike? Where indirect misdirect The sincerity at play, When sinusoidal chaos spikes And past meets the future present day? As paranoid points outlandishly connect At intervals of broken lines, Memory lost in recollect, An array of misshaped bells Internally infect the eternal confines Of infinite distributional decay, Parallels with no intersect, Streetwise cells with empty signs, Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines, Littered all the way. How am I to convey that all those times You let your mind wander away That I was reading, thinking, dreaming, Teeming, never idle, never strayed, Seeing, being, so far and away, Even the brightest intellect beaming, Could not grasp the feeling In the slightest of highest orders reeling, Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming, Imperfect, even to the disarray Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict Could not predict the reflect, For in this world, seeing is deceiving, As the lamest reject, defect, Increasingly decreasing, In simplistic bliss obey Crowned unsound fallacies That contradict all meaning, Hiding behind reality, the actualities Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving, Let me stop you if I may... I must interject for I digress, What nonsense was I weaving? Forget it—I've lost my mind, I best be leaving, What more can I say? It's periodic I must confess, You probably don't care anyway, Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay, Until next time I guess, I wouldn't want to be misleading.
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
A Scattered Point
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say? Forget it—never mind, You wouldn’t understand anyway, Would you even know what it's like? Inside a scattered disconnected mind, Employed to go on strike? Where indirect misdirect The sincerity at play, When sinusoidal chaos spikes And past meets the future present day? As paranoid points outlandishly connect At intervals of broken lines, Memory lost in recollect, An array of misshaped bells Internally infect the eternal confines Of infinite distributional decay, Parallels with no intersect, Streetwise cells with empty signs, Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines, Littered all the way. How am I to convey that all those times You let your mind wander away That I was reading, thinking, dreaming, Teeming, never idle, never strayed, Seeing, being, so far and away, Even the brightest intellect beaming, Could not grasp the feeling In the slightest of highest orders reeling, Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming, Imperfect, even to the disarray Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict Could not predict the reflect, For in this world, seeing is deceiving, As the lamest reject, defect, Increasingly decreasing, In simplistic bliss obey Crowned unsound fallacies That contradict all meaning, Hiding behind reality, the actualities Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving, Let me stop you if I may... I must interject for I digress, What nonsense was I weaving? Forget it—I've lost my mind, I best be leaving, What more can I say? It's periodic I must confess, You probably don't care anyway, Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay, Until next time I guess, I wouldn't want to be misleading.
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51
She hated me because I loved her & I loved her because she hated me.
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Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 10:12 AM UTC
With Passion
*must be crazy how can you enjoy reading about one's sadness and madness ? I'm crazier than you. How can I ask such a foolish question?*
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Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 5:55 PM UTC
You
*I'm brave enough to fear, deaf enough to hear blind enough to see, I'm a soul in ecstasy I'm weak enough to fight, in the dark of light crippled enough to stand, insane enough to understand that I'm eternal enough to die, truth enough to lie perpetual enough to end and straight enough to bend I'm hard enough to bruise and triumphantly lose I'm desperate enough to believe, happy enough to grieve afloat enough to drown and smiled enough to frown I'm treasured enough to be thrown,a dusk enough to dawn a man enough to cry,I'm mindful enough to pry I'm question enough to answer, goat enough to panther I'm block enough to bridge, free enough to siege I'm lone enough to clique, wake enough to sleep love enough to hate, I'm free willed to fate I'm chain enough to freedom, unknown for my stardom pleasure enough for pain,I'm sunshine trapped in rain I'm wrecked enough to intact and powerless enough to impact probability enough to certain,I'm God enough to Satan I'm peace enough to war,ignorant enough to know less enough to more, I'm Yes enough to No I'm stuffed enough to hunger, silence enough to thunder obvious enough to wonder, I'm builder enough to plunder.*
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Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:04 PM UTC
I'm Silent Thunder
Baby, I miss your smiles, I love my laughter even more. Baby, I miss your voice, I enjoy my silence even more. Baby, I miss your eyes, I nourish my health even more. Baby, I miss your heart, I listen to my heartbeats even more. Baby, I miss losing myself in you, But yes, I have found myself again.
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 12:39 AM UTC
Rediscovery
To my asleep conscience To my ever lasting cowardice To my low self esteem And to my doubtful self I wonder when When will courage rise up When will it surface my very face... When will it ever come at my door But i'll just wait Wait a little bit more Wait a minute or so Wait a week or two Wait a decade or a year I'll keep on stand by I'll be here obediently waiting for your grand arrival
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Dec 12, 2015
Dec 12, 2015 at 9:01 PM UTC
To Courage the cowardly
She is a chaotic mess Who is a genius yet makes no complete sense She is weak but willing to fight the war She constantly asks herself, "How long and how far?" How long until the storm ends? When will her thoughts finally be her friend? Because inside, it's a monstrosity and it's killing her with curiousity Consumed in her chaos, in her little paradox.
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 3:48 AM UTC
"Paradox¿"
Maybe she was looking for somebody to warm her up all the time and God, when it got too dark outdoors you cried kerosene and set fire to yourself just to provide her safety and security. And maybe it's true that everything comes in a paradoxical form and that's why even though you were born from a warm womb, your soul was so icy cold she burnt her fingertips just touching it and probably mistook it for the heat she had always been longing for. I know that it's ironic, I know that your dreams lay somewhere beside her perfect body and shiny hair but your reality is four suicide attempts and cutting your wrists open over some permanent tattoo where her love was supposed to be skinned. -- Eleanor
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Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 1:31 PM UTC
Skinned
I'm only trying to love myself to make up for me hating me. I hate the way I hate myself but i just cant escape from me. Tell myself I'll get it right and I just gotta wait for me, but me is getting tired, meanwhile I'm just waiting patiently. Trying to give myself a vision, I'm just trying to make me see, That happiness is bread and life could really be a bakery. Got a sweet tooth and negativity is cake to me. Everybody watching, they just copying and pasting me. Take the key, I'm trying to lock my thoughts inside a safe with me. Looking in a mirror just to let myself debate with me. I just wanna love my life, living, learning gracefully But how can I uplift myself when all my thoughts are weight to me? Racing through infinity I'm standing with the Trinity. Me, Myself, and I, that's a triangle full of enemies. Me, Myself, and I, in me so tell me where would you hide? You wanna hear some painful irony? I have to choose sides. Because I stay fighting myself and hurting me like am I serious? There ain't enough room in this one body for the three of us. No we cannot comfort us. Yes it makes us furious. Screaming to ourselves like, "is anybody hearing us?" Self inflicted pain. On this shelf I sit in vain. Telling me about myself cause no one else would think its sane.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
Love and War.
To be true, one doesn't always have to be real.
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
(Un)Reality
I'm not a hypocrite, I'm just paradoxical
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:55 AM UTC
Untitled