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#whykill
If it's true, and you know it is, sister, money don't grow, on the tree of life, oh, no, toil and pain and sorrow, those grow, on the tree of life, outside these walls of mud faith bakes, and builds heroic as formal evidence, by grace alone, the blessing on America, Oi, where Chickasaw whole life awaken dance hey hey yahweh, same dance same sacred idea We got StarLink in Chad, oh, when can we read the heresies personal savior level lucky prayer online, free from press, amen. All amenable Kilroy, was  here. We pulledhisassoffhisthrone with thunder words, and other nonsense We learned to read, and write shocking truths no slave should know, money, has all kindsaansworn NDAs there's the tie, the business religion, re attaching ligamental forces, pending dooms used to make the peasants pay for joy, ceremony of the veterans, paid with joy, ai, we die… all we celebrate, and all we worship Ares, and Elon's trip to Mars, and Hermes, tricking me into telling a preacher story, truer or not, it is too soon to say, stories sometimes hook up with old characters, brought to mind using ceremonial reminders, put on your respected veteran medal of wit, let this mind be in you, this military mind, eh strut your stuff, you patriotic consciousnesses. A bubble of belief engulfed the big parade, the ompa blat left behind. We blinked. They won. I came away with an alienated mind, to this day, I am happy to say, that has made the difference, I lived, while others just died.
0
Nov 13, 2024
Nov 13, 2024 at 8:05 PM UTC
kenpepiton
What Memorial Days Do
If it's true, and you know it is, sister, money don't grow, on the tree of life, oh, no, toil and pain and sorrow, those grow, on the tree of life, outside these walls of mud faith bakes, and builds heroic as formal evidence, by grace alone, the blessing on America, Oi, where Chickasaw whole life awaken dance hey hey yahweh, same dance same sacred idea We got StarLink in Chad, oh, when can we read the heresies personal savior level lucky prayer online, free from press, amen. All amenable Kilroy, was  here. We pulledhisassoffhisthrone with thunder words, and other nonsense We learned to read, and write shocking truths no slave should know, money, has all kindsaansworn NDAs there's the tie, the business religion, re attaching ligamental forces, pending dooms used to make the peasants pay for joy, ceremony of the veterans, paid with joy, ai, we die… all we celebrate, and all we worship Ares, and Elon's trip to Mars, and Hermes, tricking me into telling a preacher story, truer or not, it is too soon to say, stories sometimes hook up with old characters, brought to mind using ceremonial reminders, put on your respected veteran medal of wit, let this mind be in you, this military mind, eh strut your stuff, you patriotic consciousnesses. A bubble of belief engulfed the big parade, the ompa blat left behind. We blinked. They won. I came away with an alienated mind, to this day, I am happy to say, that has made the difference, I lived, while others just died.
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59
The deed begun and the deed done, a breath taken, and a breath released. The work, writing, reading as we go. No shame, no pressure, no debt. Living long under the prosperity. Not our own, no, our providence answered faith of our previous makers of ways where no way was when white pages haunted open hearted souls called to comfort motherless children, unfeedable little lost souls told tales remember Be ware what you think we mean, as us I mean, we become whole new things, keyed with ancient yeast and slime mold shapes of green oatmeal flow like the golden oil running down Aarron's beard, ah Chavad gotta a deal gotta say we getta witness, see say you know this game, three cards, just three, see. Pop chaos theoretical butterfly flap of a wing among millions of wings flapping subsonic whirs we hear but by conditioning perceive - the butterfly effect - if believed unbelievable - unbelieve it now, - exhale, inhale, and think we have all the time in the world and electricity always on, or could be so we know, borders are imaginary bubble walls, the earth as a system keeps itself, the people as a whole have roles, the worth of each single point, once sine qua non, you knew the truth and thus thought then freely, I am a mental image of the truth life makes. Winds return on their circuits, as sounds in silence, deep teenage wasteland topsoil lifts away, frame the vision, make it plain, word after word, logical as as as as yes, as logos itself, infancy an incunabuluman* nonage ex-empt-ion say that five times on judgement day matada innocent self… being presupposed to be or become metamorphosed from inexperienced to immediate past tense confusing time with chance considering the relative worth of an innocent self… a me among men, amen without spot or blemish, perfect babe, infantile in all her unrhetted ignorance inside the fog of war, holding flax at bay break out fibers fine as Rapunzel's flaxen locks first precious light in the day, shining out from ivory skinned faces, woe, is us, as we have never been so exposed naked nonsense makers, but no, just me, judging where I may imagine I must be, in my morning ritual mediation caught up, being in time flow, rolling along, singin' my song, wrong, or right, you just don't know, you just go, sparrow wise, tweeting make believe at made believers. * Latin incunabula "cradle, birthplace; rudiments or beginnings" From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=infancy> End part one, a poetic after shock from Mike Makowsky's Death by Lightning A four part series behind a Netflix paywall not too hard to peer over these days… I keep thinking you are paying attention We keep thinking we lose our minds, no we get to, relate to Charles J. Guiteau and the odds of dying by constant lightning we blow our bubbles of being to the extent of now, on an orderly planet rewarding ment enjoyment, an at it attitude, doing indeed a day. What we can learn in an hour, no mind born before 1940 could imagine.
0
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 1:11 PM UTC
kenpepiton
Death by Lightning Binge Reaction
The deed begun and the deed done, a breath taken, and a breath released. The work, writing, reading as we go. No shame, no pressure, no debt. Living long under the prosperity. Not our own, no, our providence answered faith of our previous makers of ways where no way was when white pages haunted open hearted souls called to comfort motherless children, unfeedable little lost souls told tales remember Be ware what you think we mean, as us I mean, we become whole new things, keyed with ancient yeast and slime mold shapes of green oatmeal flow like the golden oil running down Aarron's beard, ah Chavad gotta a deal gotta say we getta witness, see say you know this game, three cards, just three, see. Pop chaos theoretical butterfly flap of a wing among millions of wings flapping subsonic whirs we hear but by conditioning perceive - the butterfly effect - if believed unbelievable - unbelieve it now, - exhale, inhale, and think we have all the time in the world and electricity always on, or could be so we know, borders are imaginary bubble walls, the earth as a system keeps itself, the people as a whole have roles, the worth of each single point, once sine qua non, you knew the truth and thus thought then freely, I am a mental image of the truth life makes. Winds return on their circuits, as sounds in silence, deep teenage wasteland topsoil lifts away, frame the vision, make it plain, word after word, logical as as as as yes, as logos itself, infancy an incunabuluman* nonage ex-empt-ion say that five times on judgement day matada innocent self… being presupposed to be or become metamorphosed from inexperienced to immediate past tense confusing time with chance considering the relative worth of an innocent self… a me among men, amen without spot or blemish, perfect babe, infantile in all her unrhetted ignorance inside the fog of war, holding flax at bay break out fibers fine as Rapunzel's flaxen locks first precious light in the day, shining out from ivory skinned faces, woe, is us, as we have never been so exposed naked nonsense makers, but no, just me, judging where I may imagine I must be, in my morning ritual mediation caught up, being in time flow, rolling along, singin' my song, wrong, or right, you just don't know, you just go, sparrow wise, tweeting make believe at made believers. * Latin incunabula "cradle, birthplace; rudiments or beginnings" From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=infancy> End part one, a poetic after shock from Mike Makowsky's Death by Lightning A four part series behind a Netflix paywall not too hard to peer over these days… I keep thinking you are paying attention We keep thinking we lose our minds, no we get to, relate to Charles J. Guiteau and the odds of dying by constant lightning we blow our bubbles of being to the extent of now, on an orderly planet rewarding ment enjoyment, an at it attitude, doing indeed a day. What we can learn in an hour, no mind born before 1940 could imagine.
Continue reading...
86