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#philosophic
I’ve seen too much from behind these lids. I've learned that the dark is no place I can rest. It shows me everything that hides, or is hid, Inside every pulse within others foul heads. I flinch at any kindness like it's going to bite. For not every smile is given to me to stay. I keep my room the brightest at night— So, when I see me, I won't look away. My body is here, I think. Maybe in part. But rest is somewhere I left, unclaimed. I built shrines of silence inside my heart, Where I hid my echo and gave it a name. When I am asked, why I never sleep, A version of me steps in front just to lie. Cause sleep is a place that's way too deep, For someone who feels like they already died. I’ve felt myself moving under my skin— I'm an actor mouthing some borrowed truth. I close up and break. The thoughts swarm in. As I choke on even their quietest proof. I stay wide awake thinking pain will pass. It doesn't. It stayed here and laid in my bed. My comfort is a window of shattered glass— It never begs me to fix my fractured head. I taught myself how to speak under pause, And how not to feel, with blood and meds. You know love exists? Then show me the clause, Stating “nothing that lives, is punished when dead.” I almost opened my heart once. And It burned. Not with fire—just light I knew I shouldn’t touch. You say your worth trust? Well see if it returns, If you abandon it like faith and leave it untouched. I wish I knew how not to leave my own trail. But my presence cuts the air, and I can’t pretend. I stitch it back together, each time I inhale, My own conscious effort to draw my next breath. These eyes must stay open. That’s the only rule. So I count every crack in the wall and the door. My heartbeats break open. My bloods in a pool. Not so much now, but that used to mean more. Might as well be the door, I will not unseal. Or the me in the mirror would start turning away. Cause to truly open up, would make it too real. And nothing that's real in my life, ever stayed. So never again, will I close my eyes. Keep your strong skin. And I’ll keep the scars. I swallowed a lock; in my chest it resides. And never again, will I open my heart.
0
Jun 2, 2025
Jun 2, 2025 at 9:57 AM UTC
And Never Again
I’ve seen too much from behind these lids. I've learned that the dark is no place I can rest. It shows me everything that hides, or is hid, Inside every pulse within others foul heads. I flinch at any kindness like it's going to bite. For not every smile is given to me to stay. I keep my room the brightest at night— So, when I see me, I won't look away. My body is here, I think. Maybe in part. But rest is somewhere I left, unclaimed. I built shrines of silence inside my heart, Where I hid my echo and gave it a name. When I am asked, why I never sleep, A version of me steps in front just to lie. Cause sleep is a place that's way too deep, For someone who feels like they already died. I’ve felt myself moving under my skin— I'm an actor mouthing some borrowed truth. I close up and break. The thoughts swarm in. As I choke on even their quietest proof. I stay wide awake thinking pain will pass. It doesn't. It stayed here and laid in my bed. My comfort is a window of shattered glass— It never begs me to fix my fractured head. I taught myself how to speak under pause, And how not to feel, with blood and meds. You know love exists? Then show me the clause, Stating “nothing that lives, is punished when dead.” I almost opened my heart once. And It burned. Not with fire—just light I knew I shouldn’t touch. You say your worth trust? Well see if it returns, If you abandon it like faith and leave it untouched. I wish I knew how not to leave my own trail. But my presence cuts the air, and I can’t pretend. I stitch it back together, each time I inhale, My own conscious effort to draw my next breath. These eyes must stay open. That’s the only rule. So I count every crack in the wall and the door. My heartbeats break open. My bloods in a pool. Not so much now, but that used to mean more. Might as well be the door, I will not unseal. Or the me in the mirror would start turning away. Cause to truly open up, would make it too real. And nothing that's real in my life, ever stayed. So never again, will I close my eyes. Keep your strong skin. And I’ll keep the scars. I swallowed a lock; in my chest it resides. And never again, will I open my heart.
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48
As i find the dream i fall Into the night. Unified With what could lie Beyond the eyesight, the unknown - Barely seen yet clearly heard - Makes me think throughout the night What is time and what is I? Questions rise and answers flow, Awareness drifts in search for more, Unraveling psychotic fight Within the mind. Unified My neurons form a structure type That supports a living mind - A quantum flow over time. No computer can describe The consciousness, And nor can I. There's no way to look within, Only to look outside, But not inside another's mind. We use our masks and find it fine - We look inside each other's eyes. An illusion of self Makes it convenient to tell Each mind apart by mask alone - Embodiment of anecdote. What's going on inside my head? I am clearly not a self, Not a being, nor a soul, Not computation, just a flow. Probabilities increase of finding That which could decrease The chances to conceptualize Existence of space and time. Is universe just a shard Of something that once fell apart? Can we find the clues and solve The mysteries of our home? As long as something must exist All probabilities align For me to somehow be alive In this small window of spacetime, For me to question my own mind While being part of cosmic tide, For me to seek the answers by Looking outward and inside. I will someday realize What it is that makes me I.
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Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 5:29 PM UTC
Consciousness
' Life's signs ' and meanings ' perceived by ' all our senses ' and being's ' foci of attention, ' can divine ' from within ' and without. ' That's if our inner-eye ' isn't clouded by ' false-ego, ' self-conscious self, ' or doubt.
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Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 2:15 PM UTC
tone
the Cardinal in full plumage is a handsome bird both male and female but the adolescent Cardinal not so much it looks a splotchy ragged mess its act not yet together adult plumage will come of course but acts don’t stay together adulthood isn’t a plateau of competence and handsome looks that last until the breakdowns of old age every year the grownups molt have to change their feathers rebuilt their looks and means of flight people are like that too without the features and more staggered periods of change less assurance that the new attitudes friends and habits will work that they’ll feel comfortable within their skin with or without features we are all subject to the weather poisoning of water the local pecking order and then death we all seem to flit around more than is needed we all sing our joys and needs and warnings we all proclaim our right to be here no matter what our plumage no matter how we sing
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Dec 11, 2019
Dec 11, 2019 at 6:29 PM UTC
Reflections on a Changing Bird
Lighthouse watcher And stargazer Share common lust For distant wander One place at time For flesh and soul Split one another In dimensions If their souls once get together Will they still search for faraway?
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 3:17 PM UTC
***
I am a philosophic dreamer, moving on fields of open mind. I dance and steps vibrate in patterns of sacred geometry. I sing and music echoes causing heart to expand with grace. I breath deep and lungs fill with air infused wisdom. I love and the universe matches my essence so miracles occur. I dream and all fits into place inside divine timing. I am a philosophic dreamer, blessed inside the celebration of life.
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Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
Philosophic Dreamer
A Little Quiz If you could sell a thing for lots, Finance your yachts; Would you boycott? Boycott, if what you sold Could finance wars, Could bring worlds To their burned-out knees, Would you do business? If you could earn a salary By working in a factory Producing weapon’s heads, Guns, poison gas – All granted by the local laws, Would you do business? A little quiz - a little Buddhist - Prompted by The sheer potentiality Of personalities and crime TV Regarded daily. Hypothesize: Your kids are hungry. A Little Quiz 8.29.2017 War Book II; Our Times, Our Culture II; Arlene Corwin
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Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 6:34 AM UTC
A Little Quiz
Did you know you can trick the brain; even if there is no trick. Simply by tricking it into thinking that it's been tricked. "I can't believe you drank it" spits out water
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Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
i cant believe you drank it