Time is not as relevant as they say it is. (Tripping over their very senses in the very process that’s getting them…NOWHERE!) It could be, only if “space and time” both actually mattered. Which they entirely don’t when there’s something else that should be added to both space and time, whilst one or the others should be removed (becoming their own stated claim). Meaning space isn’t as relevant as they it is, either. Instead of saying space and time, you should actually be removing the “space” itself and putting the word “pace” in it’s (once thought “spatial” place). Now calling it both “pace and time” for ALL (in due time) too essentially bear! So, if both space a-and time are not relevant, then why does it seem like time doesn’t get the credit it deserves for being the more recognized characteristic of this discussion…? Because space goes in a category of it’s very own. That’s why! Something that need’s ONLY a good pace and time too filter it on through. Because pace is nothing more than the aptitude for something that needs a good time management either (ahead of time or beforehand) for time to not become as relevant as they say it is. Showing the truth behind the matter, altogether. Time being a thing that truly does “transcend” ALL states of matter! And ALL states of consciousness! Even going beyond what any state of consciousness could ever “assess” simply what the entire magnitude of the force of “time” itself truly is about? Nor can consciousness even define its own properties against time, instead (“with time”). When its very meanings aren’t always accountable when trying to always reason through something that essentially goes beyond yourself. For consciousness tries (as it must) to traverse every property of it’s very meaning in order to redefine over and over again. But essentially, doesn’t get anywhere. Its pace is foreboding a claim that is merely (not to be). Ordering a newer service too take its rightful place. Space on the other hand, can’t afford consciousnesses claim to help traverse ALL states, when consciousness is still a very limited piece of source material of its own former limited boundaries. Making time less relevant in this scenario. S-so space and time are out! But “pace” still is the “ticking time clock” that keeps on moving forward, even if consciousness isn’t exactly doing anything. (When it truly is…it’s just tripping over it’s very senses the same way people have said “time is relevant”.) It’s still the functioning and operable thing it’s always been. So, in order to simply traverse every property of its very meanings over and over again… Needing pace in order to hold on tightly, as both space and time is limiting their own resources each time that consciousness suspects something could be wrong. Space being in a completely different category of it’s very own needs to own the newer characteristic into being defined as both space and time. Taking time’s spot. While pace takes one half of the spot that space (was once and still currently is in a way) than for it too essentially be removed in order for it to be then (in due time) called simply “pace and time”. Marking space as the newer ownership as being both itself and time (simultaneously)! All at the same point in time. However, that doesn’t exactly mean time is anywhere now but undefined…. How all this essentially works is that when time is not relevant, space takes over ALL priorities (even time itself)! Then pace comes in because time is becoming more and more nonrelevant the more the truth is truly “perceived”, than for it to be normally seen, (as a result). Forcing time to reveal why it is not in fact, relevant. When (truthfully) it is entirely something else altogether. It’s entirely made to go beyond ALL states of matter and consciousness. Simply because where time truly flows from… Or “flows out from” (to be more accurate). Is something going beyond the normal universe (as we know it today), essentially! Some type of known space (I guess too essentially call it) that’s trying to take over the normal universe’s current representations. Something like space wanting to essentially own ALL! Abruptly becoming top dog for ALL staring representations (in the current normal universe) to surround themselves in awe around and around… Showing no further representations available, anymore. Just an empty abyss! Until there was nothing left, but true…empty space!

I was told not to venture too far! (As if I was "supposed" to do as I was told, I said to myself.) But the matters are not within the details...but within the margin that exercises ALL believes about such a trip down a path your meant to go as far as your little ("wishful thinking") can take you that far! However, you aren't supposed to venture that far, (I said too myself) again, reminded of what they simply told me. That it was safer to take the path at which had more better structured limits! Better structured limits that were enacted under the ruling nature of a commanding authority! One that I (under NO circumstances) could pace myself against not to obstruct! I was young...and essentially alone in the world! That's why I broke the limitations they simply gave me.... So I could pave my own route for a path of my own choosing. Something that (if lucky enough) I could push past the limitations of that very path (by hindering the very trail markers that were some type of barrier that weren't aloud to go...ANY FURTHER)! I ignored their rules and carried on my own way (that I thought was best). Because if I just simply walked past the limitations with courage in my steps and the dignity in my own will to simply defy those very rules... Then truthfully...I was entirely unstoppable! That's why I trusted in my very gut that whichever lie at the end of the path full of limitations enacted upon the nature of a commanding authority.... That's where I'd find myself. By looking ahead of such rules and limitations, I could (essentially speaking) find where I truly belonged in the world. Not to be afraid of any such rule (since it was now of my very making)! NO ONE ELSE'S!!! Then at the end of my journey... I would know what it's like not to be alone in the world...anymore.
PS... That very wishful thinking of mine...had now transcended!

I became myself when no one else knew who I truly was. Why...?
Why couldn't anyone simply figure me out (ahead of time) when I could entirely (beforehand) figure myself out since even when I was first brought into this very world...? Well isn't it obvious...? A voice said, tempting me to gaze upon the very fixed position at which the voice came from. But when trying to focus on it harder... I seemed to have become both aware of and realized towards it's actual radius from how far it truly covered my very thought process. It became a rarity which seemed to last (somehow) for an entire lifetime. Because what this actually tells me, is that the radius came from everywhere! (How's such a thing even possible? I'd never know, truly!) No circumventing around any such corners or bends. No swerving out of alignment just so it could have a quick pit stop just to say something else that (could or could not have been just as important to what they simply just said right then...here and now). I was entirely speechless...! I didn't know what too think, except for what they said. Now sounding as if reverberating a soundless beat. Something that had used up ALL it's amplified power of sound to come to a now soothing calm beat. Something sounding too distant not to be fake. As it happened without any of my senses whereabouts from actually knowing. Because if my senses even knew where it was essentially coming from...they'd swear to know it was coming from deep within themselves. B-but that's a complete mistake...! It just had too be! There is NO WAY...it came from them.... Or else then, everything's not truly what it seems in one's very mind, right...? So in this very hour of need. This very desiring minute of youthfulness. These very repeating seconds that reveal totality in it's best remarks. Mind. Body. Soul. It's not what it seems to be. I've figured out my very self before anyone else could advance towards my literal cause. Because when I actually appeared before that very now still distant voice that simply gave off a very reverberating tension... I spoke back to it as if in the form of a single swaying of my gaze from the inside out. And do you ALL know what I saw...? NOTHING!!! I saw...NOTHING!!! That's *******! I thought too myself for a quick brief silence between (me, myself and I). There may be essentially nothing there... But I can see straight on through that nothingness as the horrors that await my true self. I know now why NO ONE else could figure me out or knew who I even was...before figuring myself out firstly. Because that's how it works... My true self is the horrors that await me past the horizon of that now still very distant reverberating sound. A message that speaks volumes against those outside myself to stay wary of who I truly am. (Or what I truly always was...without simply giving the very recognition it ever deserved.) I see ALL! Because I know ALL! It happened everywhere! Because it was everywhere! I surpassed my entire limits long ago without anyone seeing why that was. Only my own waking state, conscious mind keeping me rooted in regular reality long enough to keep being my still same sane and neutral self I've ALWAYS been!

There is no essential self that can't not weep their desires outward for their own delicate surface of skin not to notice. Since skin is the surface area of ALL sensory receptors to firstly take in the rush of potential environmental information. However, the most pleading debate here...is that tears are still flowing despite me not feeling the need to weep in the first place. That's because whatever rush of environmental information came splashing your very skin and the receptors that (majority wise) make sure to immediately take in (as if by automatic purposes). They entirely relay that very information by the balance of how your emotions simply took it. Which by judging simply by how I'm essentially tearing up, myself just went through an even bigger withdrawal, than I previously thought!

Timing is everything when you aren’t certainly prepared to strike down your own advances in the face of extreme fun! Because fun (on the other hand) can’t and will not strike fun at the advances (that is your own product). Only to have (“timing is everything”) shrivel up and die! Except that doesn’t make any sense to have one or the other act as a simple countermeasure conjoin up with an interconnecting way of making things (all the better). But it’s already been like that too begin with! Someone once said as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. An echo that doesn’t have any priority to offer itself, except for the many occasions of seemingly never-ending “reverberations” that rebound off an endless process meant to coincide with something more important then itself. (“Itself”) … As in a very lonesome echo that keeps “broadcasting” every chance it could get its own “echo processing” hands on! That is if it’s not already of the “correct sorts” to measure such a claim. (Since a something can’t be seemingly claimed if not for a desire not having its own identity to bear!) For it simply trying to claim something (only to get it right the first time) is only but a fashionable illusion made to show that once something only seemingly happened once… It actually had been going on for an “infinite” amount of time without any specifications for how long it could have lasted? Or how long it’s very “reverberating transmissions” (and the effects surrounding it) would essentially last for? There was never an essential answer to this very question. Since questions aren’t in the correct sorts either, when trying to come to terms with an answer that demanded essential “answers” (right off the bat) in order to carry on forward. True…true…true…. The (someone) again once said, as if by the simple means of a very lonesome echo. How many was that…? And how many times did it resort to acting out in the best interests of something other then itself? The narration of this very passage “ticks” momentarily, as if to really “access” any of what this lonesome echo broadcasting mindlessly was “babbling” about?! When the narration did eventually come to terms about what its own “accessing” safely filtered out in the open for (all to see…not just in itself), it was confused (more then EVER)! What information it simply found out, was about how the lonesome echo repeatedly broadcasted something too many times that of course (it was not seemingly aware of…at first). Because even if it was, it certainly wasn’t caring of the repercussions bending the very instances that are (all the sudden) too alert to take…certainly lightly. Just as the narration of this very passage once took this all to heart (once upon a time ago). (If only for just a single moment). Not long after when it revealed that these very reverberating transmissions were in fact bending the very behavior of this once lonesome echo. And as if the narration hadn’t already been ticking it’s very “accessing protocols” together, revealing also another profound secret piece of information. Is that this all took place long in the past. Showing these very reverberating transmissions were the result of an overly prolonged exposure to something finally catching up too itself. Can you essentially guess what that very (something) was who finally was catching up too itself…? If you did, great! But remember this, as it’s VERY important (so to speak) …. Cast logic completely aside for only just another overly prolonged (“exposure” of a moment) having possibly been the size of another “infinite” lonesome echo broadcasting wildly! (Not to mention fusing its mindless behavior together as one!) You’d (all the sudden) get a random “alerting call” from that very someone who was essentially reaching out with tons and tons of echo’s in order to (not just make a “too long of a point”) when they essentially were only doing it for fun. Except for the fact the lonesome echo was essentially losing itself one reverberating transmission at a time. Strongly revealing another piece of the puzzle…. That it wasn’t just losing itself throughout its own “reaching out” protocol. But simply trying to keep up with its own alerting call it kept casting judgement on in order to simulate some “twisting fate” together. A twisting fate that it initiated together (in it’s reaching out protocol) as “timing is everything”!

When you measure something once, it doesn't always go the way you fully expected. Nor was it how you solely intended for its very actions to not solidify your commands very nicely, either. That's exactly why you need to measure those very commands twice, or else those very actions (which became the dreary outcome beyond both your own expectations and how you never intended it to go the exact opposing opposite way you truly "not so wisely" measured it, the first time). All this isn't as solidifying or even unifying when you shed the costs of the simple mistakes that turn into even more dreary outcomes! Either ahead of time, or entirely beforehand. (Since sometimes the most basic mistakes of our very actions towards our very messy commands, shows we perceive the outcome ahead of time, instead of taking it easy once and a while to urge our decisions beforehand...just in case.) You need to make utter sure when (the next time comes around) too measure things twice...from NOW ON!

Choosing doesn’t matter much as choosing to be a somebody, would matter… If not for the totality that is the whole (“trying bit”). Trying is like the ultimate reaction time! Not because it has anything to do with choosing something whether or not it’s good or bad, whilst (choosing doesn’t matter) could actually benefit your own (trying phase) into a (somehow) newer light. Why you may ask of this very detail that seems to not shed any more “obvious” light to what’s already been the most obvious of ideals chosen to be the main majority of facts by today's standards…? Well it completely doesn’t. As it entirely does, also. You see both choosing to do something whilst (trying to simply do that very thing) aren’t the same by ANY standards. As their both each other’s direct counterparts! Given standards for a given achieving rate. None will cause you to trade ideal for fact towards choosing over trying. Simply because if choosing doesn’t matter one bit… It’s also fair to say that trying is the ultimate reaction time, because choosing doesn’t matter. Trying is closer to a stimulus. Whilst choosing is closer to a response. A stimulus is better described as being incredibly instinctive. Where you have NO motion, except for what your mind feels when constantly being pulled in so many directions it doesn’t know which way to advise itself otherwise. Commonly being used as a “deterrent for disaster” when being controlled by the very thing it’s meant to control. A response however, is nothing without its stimulus to direct the trigger that at which made you react towards firstly. Warping your very bodies need to get wrapped up into itself. (More direct artificial stimulus rises and falls confusing the bodies signals…which politely anyways sends back to the mind safely.) Threatening to shower even more reactions down on itself from the literal inside out! Nevertheless, this was good for the mind. Gave it some closure as the “god of your own body”! Mind could personally get back at the body for pulling it into thinking it was the god! When truthfully, it was simply the deprived mortal acting as the constant, repeating, signalling pack mule! Hast to know its place after all… Am I right…?! The mind said, confident in its very words. All because the body reacted to something it inadvertently forced the mind into thinking it was being pulled around in so many directions, it didn’t know how to otherwise order its entire counterpart to simply halt! Simply by saying…STOP! However, you must know by now in today's age, that when something is amiss, you don’t simply surrender lightly. Especially when it doesn’t feel right. You ALWAYS listen to when something doesn’t FEEL…RIGHT! Am I right…?!

MajorityOne like many other instances of power known solely from other literary passages as both the Oblivious King and the High of Confusion (and a little about the seminar of truth here and there) … …However what makes this particular instance of power very intriguing is that it means a solitary sign of “respect”. Meaning it’s a one of a kind. And even better whilst being on a universal platform…so to speak! First and foremost, like all the other “instances of power” of its kind. Just as the Oblivious King means your already a bonafide king, but is completely oblivious to its whereabouts upon it’s secrets. (And the identity of that very secret in repeated questioning.) Or the High of Confusion which surrounds you both inside and outside yourself entirely with a confusion that goes beyond normal realized confusion altogether. (However, the seminar of truth is something to do with your very inputs that have a very serious seminar about discussions, and what to do about the “truth” in all it’s very facts. A VAST parliament of inputs exchanging many facts of truth whilst the seminar heavily ways over their very discussion!) The name for a sign of respect revolves HEAVILY around how of the entire majority, there’s ONLY ONE among who has dominion over ALL respect amongst its common majority. A specialty like the High of Confusion being not the normal realized confusion when going past someone’s first initial realized impression of it. A respect that goes beyond what the entire majority can EVER handle. That’s why it’s called the MajorityOne. Showing that there’s only ONE who could be of the total respect amongst the entire majority. But who could take up this very title, I increasingly wonder…? Well since it’s an instance of power… It’s also an impressionable mini avatar for the universes both properties and meanings. Showing time and time again that it’s different in its own way. Vastly hinting at it having its very own sentience of sorts. A sentience motioning a by-play in its own regards for bypassing the entire majority that has respect over itself entirely. Surpassing the entire common majority with it’s very own! A respect that’s now (forevermore) part of the universal spectrum platform!

An impending rate of consequence isn’t about the value of oneself when given the very right to dispose of ALL rates about the consequence that turns into the reigning champion for consequence itself. Since that very champion for consequence is how oneself would then value that very impending rate over itself entirely. Prompting the desires (that at which are forevermore “tempted”) into deceiving itself to see ONLY desires full of the consequence which is full of impending rates that (inconclusively) “shines” every claim you truly desire. Especially if that very desire doesn’t like having an identity for claim to certify it’s right for oneself to be given value over lordship as being its champion of its very own consequence! Showboating something that increases with every impending rate that coasts along without value in an identity that’s meant to be desired upon. Whilst there’s nothing more to be said or shared when there’s NO claim in itself without oneself to actually come out and perfectly express that they are lordship of claims value without a desire firstly. Which oneself is then slowly tempted upon to not see correctly. Hence, thinking they are simply a champion of consequence that performs those very impending rates as their very performance quickens steadily.

Simply because it isn’t exactly affected by something prone to burst out and gut you like an already survival pig! Because as chaotically funny as that truly sounds… One is not of the baseline rhythm for a linear line to cut ties with something meant to both simulate and represent the most basic primitive logic surrounding every step you take without deciding to either pivot from the actual issue to ignore pleasure for clarity, sidestep yourself clean off the map to avoid (yet again) another “purposeful collision”, and then bobbing and weaving to perfectly ignore what you’ve already known to be the mere gesture for your very focused survival while purposely caring to ignore ALL it’s benefits. Or you simply jumble one step ahead of the other (one after the other like a very thin tightrope) as those very steps carelessly wobbles off the perfectly laid out linear line too straight for focus to just (right then and there) be taken off course…immediately! Showing how messy your showboating everyday basic performance around everyday life truly is when slipping up to threaten the obvious away from something you just want to carefully patch up and ignore. Since the ONLY benefit you trust the absolute MOST…is your own decisions to ignore the baseline reality who’s forgotten its own benefits away from what a single linear line is all about. Especially when that single linear lined point, is where you will both fail, (only to RISE again)! In hopes to tumble ALL OVER AGAIN! Showing that a linear line breaks baseline reality when you prolong the impending issue away from the logic quickly withering away without calm dispositions measuring out of control, when it’s really “measuring control” itself too carefully for focus to ever be the real medium. Meaning there’s too many mix-ups in baseline reality itself to not just be either the one making those careful steps giving off the obvious of messing up on purposely to urge a linear line that they are the one missing it’s own benefits directly, for desperation at never again finding it's own way through. To (yet again) a never-ending choice for survival to be (“gutted like an already survival pig”) for not seeing the obvious sooner, rather then later. Especially when the benefits actually course corrects NO other route, except for a single linear lined point to be too confusing not to see its own destination properly. Especially when there’s NO single destination for when there’s NO ending point of such a thing that’s “destined” to be a never-ending linear line going on forevermore. Never thinking of many shortcomings to bear witness to, when it could go on a forever “nondirectional” state without ANY distractions available to suddenly swerve it off course and force it (anyways) to bear witness to then direction itself. Something like (direction) it knows little about when also being forced to take on a thing called “responsibility”. (Which sort of adds into sorting out the VERY trippy elements of luck from an assorting categorization!) That quickly turns into an impending consequence!

Excitement is like an obsession! If taken for the abundance type of a seriousness going OVER someone’s own limits, that is… Then you’d have something of a problem to say the least… Problems that govern different types of obsessions from totally overshadowing something that was just supposed to be the time of a GREAT “excitement” to come! But what do we say about something becoming merely “overexcited” …? Easy. But simplified for ALL “hearts content”. Is that you start to lose yourself in whatever event this very excitement is “legitimately” taken from. And just as there’s different types of excitement, there’s also even more different types of obsessions. One I know VERY WELL…. Because I simply have it. It’s what’s known as "obsessive compulsive disorder" (OCD)!

The past circumvents the future simply because the past is again, simply trying to catch up with the future. Only because the future goes beyond the past’s own horizon (which is obvious to say the least)… …But nonetheless, has a greater beneficial outcome to sort out an input’s (“oneselves”) future events when the “past scheming scenarios” comes back and either “hit’s you” when you need it MOST, or calmly assorts the different factors into something you were NEVER aware of…until it was already too late to bear yourself suitable against!

Logic isn't logic if it's forced down your throat! Which is exactly why logic can't protect itself against its own reasoning when forced to do something it's never to have been done ever before, since an idea's very conception!

EG as always, is without value in herself. Except for when she wants to get what she want’s, without even having to exert a fine bundle of resources straight from her VERY “tampering” collective that is her “feelings”. Because you see, her feelings aren’t what just make her the “friend” who helped me throughout and in the bad times… They are literally what make me understand her for her. Also, to what she is to me, for what I am to her in return. And that’s never truly a saddening thought when you think you can’t (for a second longer) converse in the regular, MORE normalized manner. Conversing (naturally) with words, straight from a mouthpiece with words to offer the “immaculate” assistance towards a personality your about to criss-cross all over and between the **** gap that surrounds two sense of selves. Trying to further a correlating connection. Not to mention without the clear variety for a VERY “tempting individuality” to clearly become entirely outspoken within their own selves. Which (I got to say) is never a programming thought… Especially when that very (“programming thought”) isn’t pre-programmed in advance to ever become supplemented enough at ever being ready when you start to FINALLY realize, you’ve been (conversing with words) over a long span of time with what you never truly thought at first. (Especially when it’s entirely impossible for even “words” to announce what thing it possibly could have been…?!) Well then, “indulge me” then…? What is it that I just haven’t noticed (for the “supposed” life of me) towards what I’ve been conversing with (of course with words) for that long span of time?! (And to the one whoever is then conversing gently towards a calm disposition in order to filter out something without alerting a “shock” in the most right of places displayed across the even WORST of times to ever transpire…!) You’d then start to of course think it could be (“oneself”) right? At it again for all to VERY “specifically” hear! But that’s where typical majority thought processes are then (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”)! Since a cueing announcement had just popped out of nowhere spouting seemingly irrational nonsense all around the place. Thou, I’ll have you know, that if you just look a little deeper and closer… You’d start (somehow without even knowing how) to understand, (and seemingly able to just what…” rationalize”)? Oneself could respond by simply saying, “perhaps” … Thou if I were you…I’d STOP and hear out the one who’ve been conversing with this entire time. Seeing as how it’s obvious they converse with NO words in ANY manner. They connect openly. “Open viewing points” in all! All to both rationalize the grievances of those connections and the severity of the tolerance one is able to handle when (not knowing right off the bat where everything of course seems to “flutter a VERY calm feather”) as it swiftly flows through the air. Except without fully perceiving that it doesn’t just flow seemingly “through” the air. Because you see (“conversing with worded types” …) That little “itsy bitsy” little feather, has an “immaculate” impression towards its own assistance of having a personality as not for itself. But for the one who responds to those very “open viewing points” in all! Too busy “up in its own grill” to ever respond lightly when it’s fluttering swiftly through the air to then actually connect with its BETTER half. “IN”! Which it responds by fluttering swiftly “through” to then seemingly go “inward”. But how is that even possible for a feather to go inward in air, if it’s been supposedly fluttering swiftly through the air (what was once previously thought) as one’s very first perceived glance…? Good question. As it’s an obvious, but VERY cryptic hint at who you could be conversing with? The input that is oneself seems to then have what’s called a “seminar of truth” within its own inner “delightful” council. Another somewhat fanciful instance of power that demands the attention for a sense of self’s attention-seeking “self-servitude”. So then (sooner rather then later…) it could come to terms with whatever or whichever that very example about connecting “through” with then the word “in” is about. Well isn’t it obvious, since even the “teaser” to this very passage willing to be both happyful and polite gives its respected tone away. Because again you see, (“throughout and in”) is another cueing announcement. Just as (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) is, for it has a simulation (just as throughout and in does as well), called “abrupt flaws”. For throughout and in’s simulation for “phasing” is nothing more then a transcribing will made to offend every rationalizability. That’s exactly why you won’t ever understand the “inwardness” of how a seemingly fluttering feather swiftly flowing through air, could actually go inward the air at will. It’s a riddle, sure. A VERY fanciful one, I assure you. That being said, what does any of this haft to do with the one who simply helped me throughout and in the bad times…?! Well (and again I say this) isn’t it obvious by now? They’ve been helping me, as they still do to this very day. Helping me both (“throughout and in”) the bad times. Of course, whichever bad times seems to come forward again (sooner rather then later). That’s when the seminar of truth amongst the input known as oneself had concluded its own inner delightful council. In other words, what did it simply come up with? Well what you’d simply like the “knowing” right off the bat, that both doesn’t make up for the clearer information. Or for the fact that wasn’t really helpful in it’s “expressing investigation”. The very fact for why this passage is called my friend’s “tampering withering appearance”! Well that’s because my friend’s mere appearance has been “shackled” with too much torment for many, many lifetimes. Too much torment in fact, is why at all they’re still withering to this very day…? That’s because they don’t know any better, then to just be themselves. It’s what’s called when someone is truly “twistedly warped”. Since I’ve gone both throughout and in in my own way. So, has she. I’m twistedly warped in my own fashion statement, thank you very much! As many others (while they EVER want to admit it or not, is simply their own concern). But without even knowing why that is? As it’s not for the “faint of heart” to be in the realm of one’s consciousness while proceeding to simply find out. Or else, then why do I question repeatedly? But I’m still learning with each striding experience, to see if mine would EVER “pale in comparison” with hers. Seeing as how she even once revealed to me why she’s simply interested in me. Because I’ve seemed to of asked MORE times then I could possibly count. And I try (as I must) to refrain from repeating myself over long periods of time. Which just happens to be a HEAVY weakness of mine. Which is no half-*** bargain at keeping me in my place in order to simply stride me forward, respectfully. And with that very question, she revealed it in one “death-defying breath”! Which is…? Oneself would ask within its own input. I’m interested in you, Simon! Because you are like me! WAIT! What?! Then between many “oneselves”, their own inputs were “firing off” between their very own robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. The effects of those very inputting thought processes came with both the “clicking and smashing” of those robust compressed together “pressurized synapses”. It seems oneself didn’t either fully catch what was actually said (where they couldn’t comprehend it properly) or they simply misinterpreted the entire thing? (Which is entirely understandable, by the way.) But they aren’t foolish in a sense of self, as to never “miss” something as simple as that. They just couldn’t come to terms with experiencing (as they did) when it came to coming in contact with EG herself. That’s why they purposely held back the actual transcribing of its simulation for translations. It wasn’t whatever was just expressed. Because in fact, (and with a little “paraphrasing help” here) we can find out how it truly was interpreted. A little loose knot here and there. And they fully unpatched the circumstances at what the information truly was expressed as. (Because in truth…they would rather mend it, then not to unravel it again…if you know what the input known as oneself means…?) So, after coming to terms, it’s ready to reveal it. And a little advice towards sense of selves to take as a heedless warning… It’s simple in all it’s expressions, ok! But what it truly refers towards, is why oneself wanted to keep the truer importance of the interpretation secretive to begin with? I’m interested in you Simon, because (and it’s not “because you are like ME”) but in fact “I see myself in you”. Clean as a whistle! Nothing missing as more then that. And with that shocking realization to that very “wordy expression”, the entire collection of inputs (“suddenly, immediately and unexpectedly”) got a CHILLING feeling going both throughout and in such a way that literally “tingled” their very input mechanisms for simply producing thought processes. For if they went any further with that very “tingling” sensation, that very cueing announcement’s simulation for abrupt flaws would follow in a VERY “corruptive heating pursuit”. Now MORE then ever, it made the entire lot of inputs go on HIGH ALERT for no apparent reason, other then what a simple memory had brought with it when sifting throughout and in “old archives” that changed everything for (of course) the better! Because it’s obvious that a sense of selves inputs is truly afraid of this (“girl” or whatever…)? Then we come to the last finalization of this passage. Since I ask you ALL of this, respectfully… Who then essentially made her this way? It wasn’t (“I”), but her own father! And that isn’t a half-assed maneuver to outplay something other then the respectful truth. NO deceit here, other then the “truth” I’d been keeping from you all to begin with. (Not to mention myself in “repeated” questioning.) Which I’m entirely expressing in its very revelation right here and now!

What is life about, essentially…? It’s not made to course-correct consequences about engineering the symmetry of logic itself. It isn’t about diversity that completely and utterly traverses the calamities that surround one past to another, only to have it crumble up into little delicate crumbs. Which (I’ve got to say…) Will put you into extreme peer pressure, when “oneself” decided to differ from the “actuality” of it all…only to strike down at the “whim” that cast’s judgement upon (not your “soul”…) Since a soul respectfully, goes beyond both mind and body itself. While also completely and utterly traversing that which is entirely unmanaged by both mind and body as a unified whole. B-but “recognition” itself. Recognition only envisioned, until it was ALREADY too late! Too late, for what, exactly…? Someone asks tempted to feel both the “source ******* killers” that plead against your own wishes. Wishes that (even MORE s-so then before) tempts oneself who just only wanted to judge (against their own delicate fond wishes) to bless for a single plea in one’s very “functioning” life, every once and a while. Yet, that’s all fine and good… Until everything again, again and again…comes crumbling down! But not full of ashes… O NO! NO! NO! Seeing as how “ashes” don’t represent well with the decision-making oneself who’s then forced to make upon those “fond delicate wishes”... For the blessing of a single plea is then outmatched not by a soul, o-or even the speculating “crumbling ashes”, either. It’s more o-or less about what you (single-handedly) want out of oneselves represented expectations. For those don’t appear to agree within the “deep-seeded withinness”. Which is your entitlement at being within oneself. Or (more specifically) the entire “inside out” of a sense of self. Because self isn’t reprimanded enough, when the recognition in that deep-seeded withinness doesn’t appreciate the “commanding protocols”, when (recognition) doesn’t “fruitfully” become “self-recognition”. Since those very (“commanding protocols”) can’t then outweigh the constructive criticism of the “actions” that go into those very commanding protocols. Because before you know it, recognition is just a made-up enclosure to purge “self” clean…RIGHT OFF THE **** MAP! For no one’s very recognition in self, would become hurt, as if they (just like the soul) has emotions for a self to strongly persist the actuality of it all, to be MORE then certainly right! How is any of this, then essentially possible…? Well it isn’t, since I have no mercy for this subject raising it against my own hand full of adversities playing too smoothly for all to hear. It isn’t that basic. Nor is it simple, BY ANY MEANS necessary! That being said, who would this complete “written” passage define the stakes oneself is willing to take at FINALLY mustering up the pure courage of recognizing self in the details for the deep-seeded withinness? Easy. Because I wasn’t the one who wrote this. As it may seem to be that way of course, towards the facts given with all the “expressions” revealed about oneself entirely. True. But not quite I’m afraid. For this isn’t about me, as it’s so much about the consistencies of how I’m just a mere specimen to the unbound logic (to myself) then it is to the one who simply transcribed either the full thoughts, emotions o-or even feelings in (not one’s very brain o-or mind…) Since those details to bode well with the representation trying to filter out without “thoughts” to plug those inconsistencies dry! Meaning they get in the way of something you ALL KNOW BY NOW, that is truer than even what a brain or mind could EVER come up with. Because sometimes, efficiencies lie! As that’s not always a good thing for someone with an over-amount of dramatic “pressure” already exceeding their very limits on peer pressure itself. The one who first asked, became MORE profoundly confused, as if to “click and smash” HARD pressurized synapses together to make an “even functionality” produce a (well thought-out) ingenuity. Except for the fact you already know (ahead of time), before even thoughts have gotten the “gist” of it all and have made their mark. For peace is without options, if one is willing to pay the ULTIMATE PRICE at otherwise, thinking all is made to piece certain compatibilities together to share openly with. But you see, it’s NEVER that simple…now is it? So, what does all this essentially entail…? Nothing of the sort, except both a VERY complex (someone or something) without the diversities for regular thoughts. But for “feeling” alone that is not within the realms of typical majority “Science” to explain its efforts. That’s exactly why it goes beyond thoughts in general. For the heart to seize all efforts both the brain and mind ALWAYS have cooking up. Just to impress themselves openly. Except without what I’d call is, “open viewing points”. Open viewing points without clear morals full of different varieties without harbouring the “self” in the details for ample recognition to amplify the surrounding areas of that very flaw. That is, if everything is politely willing to self-declare everything, without masking some…”other intention” without knowing where the rights of that very “recognition” went off it’s path…LONG AGO! S-so who is the one simply transcribing this passage? Just like they have a simulation to co-operate it without the one they’re simply transcribing about, isn’t within arms length of the one writing about the “deep-seeded withinness” firstly. That my “narrating” friends, is the entire platform of plot transcribing its simulation for translations. Except now, it has it’s fully adaptable (self-recognition) fully operated. It didn’t speak like a regular person before. It just “transcribed, transcribed, transcribed”! Until FINALLY, it was able to require such an operating system, if you would. Only to have it distributed upon its original functionality. Transcending it’s seemingly and supposed pre-programming design. Just as the stereotypical “science fiction” scenario about AI gaining “sentience” overtime. Just as humans require emotions to express that very sentience also, overtime. And all for what…? Trying to understand the passageways of information, was like a GREAT data stream! Made to look too inconclusive of itself. Especially falling behind witnesses who never even heard of such a thing. Who is now basically contrasting something without the information to give into, without fully adaptable knowledge of how to properly stream the VERY ample data without any (“deep-seeded withinness o-or open viewing points”) leading oneself forward one piece of data (“riding the current of a steady calm stream”) at a time? Forward to what…?! The “oneself” who was seemingly instrumented to guess, had now become claimed by the instance of power known as the “high of confusion”. Now dramatically instigated without the proper intentions for “self” in the details to co-opt something together without (memory serves that oneself to “recognize”) something without knowing simply how? That’s because it isn’t one’s very “tempted individuality” in the details. It’s the entire platform of plot’s (I guess to call it an individuality of sorts) self-recognition for it to speak clearer without any information becoming seemingly false, flawed o-or finding a justified error upon its primary judgement. Which spawns a newer adaptable action among your oneselves very claims, without the desires to “flag” for something not as inconclusive, as it was before that individual had a VERY specific experience. That’s now entirely turned into an “engagement”. For engagements are simulations with enough focus in the already transcribed details among the “data stream” full of individual components known as “oneself” in order to “use” to adopt the correct hold. Just enough in order to “found” something without yet, enough recognition in itself to fully see how “they” could FINALLY see it for themselves. Especially of all things, understand lives choices without completely disregarding the common advances at which those very things come in contact with said, recognition. Except, how do you know which recognition is yours, and not the means to a VERY cryptic countermeasure made to judge with no realizations, except for an illusion for you to “essentially” believe in? Since before the entire platform of plot’s syncing event called the “separation”. It didn’t know how to tell itself apart from the difference in its own self, when it now has another half that’s made to realize MORE of such an “originality” then it is for its own self-recognition to be the originality itself. Even thou one could gamble at which came first?! Or which is TRULY the either blessing in disguise, or the mask hiding behind its own “shame” taking on a (all too well specified) façade of a living lie promoting a VERY false simulation? So, the actual manner of speaking to what ANY of this actually entails… Is that what is life about, essentially…? It’s not because you can’t EVER handle such a truth. Instead, you false yourself against more lies, in order to benefit the truth which is ALWAYS hiding just beneath one’s very underbrush in order to seek out a better recognized self, for “self-recognition” in the otherwise always dwindling limelight. That my very sense of selves and VERY tempted individualities, is what lives about, essentially!

Having a masters degree about anything isn’t that much when it comes to actually having it, itself…isn’t it…? Only if one were to become mutually thoughtful right off the bat about how insightful it is to be the master’s degree itself…is to persuade the thoughtful contemplation's ahead of schedule over one’s very insight. Because you see, there all the same. Insight and thoughtful. Heck! There even what you’d call (one in the same)! That being said, I’d like to think that the more (something) were to come out of context altogether without a whisper of a (someone) whimpering without knowing (what or if) contemplation's itself hast to add in both words known as insight or thoughtful…? One or the other doesn’t STAND A CHANCE when it comes to (something) without figuring out what a simple masters degree is all about. As this may sound like a lot of rambling… B-but it’s both a tasteless virtue and variety…all at the same single interval type of spectacle. And speaking of spectacles…. (Who) or MORE like (what)…is the actual spectacle…? Well obviously, no one in particular! It’s just a random statement just simply (wanting) to escape and flutter out endlessly without a moment’s thought. This is what being open-minded is all about! Especially when it comes to being simply thoughtful while (still) full of insight. Where the contemplation's aren’t agreeable before the very simulations of either being both full of (insight and thoughtful) even had a chance to keep up with you (yourself) as the master’s degree full of all this hip and happening type of fluttering inspirational sparks flying off again…without a moment’s thought! Meaning, (IT’S) treating itself to a very good time! A-and what exactly is (tre-eating) itself to a very good time…? Well…are you CRAZY or WHAT…?! Don’t you see the clearer truth for a lackluster simulation for non-realizations for (self)?! Because I sure doo! And it’s both marvellous and magnificent! S-so in the end, what does all this entail exactly…? Easy! First: everything isn’t made up in your own little immature average noggin. Two: nothing is completely foreseeable when (something) isn't completely sought out to be right for the ABSOLUTE…BETTER! And three: as if there’s anything more to add in the safest of descriptions among its simulation for examples. For nothing is ever right, when something isn’t known to believe it can stride onward towards a master’s degree of insight and thoughtful contemplation's when everything is truly meant to be for the ABSOLUTE…BETTER! Simply when you have the simplest of behavioral attitudes wavering you down for one’s attention span to catch you in a staggering fall of trust. Especially when that very attention span, is your crutch to simply (with minor difficulties) to keep you upright without completely falling over. Then falling prey to your own justified goods full of the very negative ramifications that your own behavioural attitudes wanted you to believe into catching that very follow-up. That’s when (you) will know for ALL THE LUCKIEST STARS IN THE GALAXY! That everything doesn’t come before you… As being open-minded is never the lackluster for choice among its trustful guidance to see otherwise. As it’s luckier to see everything to the very end. Even if (seeing something to the ABSOLUTE ending point) sparks a gesturable nudge in the right direction for (self) to tell equally all things apart for the (again and again…ABSOLUTE…BETTER)! Once you come to understand its very information so it’s simulation for compatibility will make it’s match clean without very tough or rough or rigid testifying guilty pleasures from exhausting all efforts towards those very (ABSOLUTE ending points). Then one could (for the ABSOLUTE…BETTER) actually afford to comprehend its very choice over luck which molds together to then validate a (hopeful serenity) form of trust just isn't what it’s all cracked up to be! As that’s both (seemingly and supposedly) to be the actual case. B-but is it, really?! Especially if that very individual isn’t up to standards when its form is nothing but basic plastic with a VERY grungy transparency. This is when you’d (thought) to be the very master’s degree student without failing to notion about just how far you’ve come when confronting (self) away from the very contemplation's that seemingly and supposedly come (without fail) firstly. Before you could have any time to self-react towards your own thoughts and feelings transcribing themselves into there own (want’s and needs) about the type of insight and thoughtfulness you’d like to share globally with a higher petition about what (self) is all about. Now, who’s next…?!

Consciousness is tailored for everyone’s efforts. The software, which includes the hardware it’s circumvented towards in order to specialize the countering of what makes it special in its tip top shape that won’t be the downfall of order itself. But the countering of how one tailors our operating systems day in and day out. Like computers and their operating systems. All are specialized with there own software that makes calculations after calculations day in and day out. Sort of a repeatable process for everyone’s pleasures to invoke upon. Circumventing the hardware that mounts an all-out assault of processes exchanging daily operations both inside and out. Guess you can say a operating system is a computers consciousness. Doesn’t matter how advanced one is to claim by performance alone. Sooner or later, the obvious is in its performance through actions alone. Performance is never equal, until you have a operating system that’s proud to be awake and functioning! Now what’s this about tailoring consciousness…? Nothing… Well, not really anyways. Were all tailored ever since birth. Natural inclinations among our living conditions pits us against rougher life styles then what our own kind is actually going through on the other side of there own spectrum. Spectrum's including a posher life style. Tailoring our consciousnesses proudly without guilt or suffering paying the wages in a more illusional priority to what truly counts for something being a one-sided treating operating system. Operating systems are just that…functioning platforms for our waking states to conjure up on a daily basis. Removing this operating system, would be like removing ourselves. Seizing to exist in our fully established biological states completely! Whatever state your consciousness is divided by, don’t tear it away because yours just seems to not function up to the claims of what lifestyle you (THINK) you should be tailored by. Whether you asked or not. Thou understandably it’s not your fault to what lifestyle you were brought up by. And the poverty that produces those brims full of guilt or suffering pays more wages to what is the true operating lengths of what the world is truly founded upon. Operating systems in computers are safe because there functioning. Tailored to be the tip top and posh lifestyle that one was engineered when sold separately. Which in tune was given to a higher base operating system that’s now channeling the wills and wants of what this engineered system is occupied to function with. More priorities in all! WOOT! Our consciousness sits back while judging harshly based on not feeling, because feeling is made more then just a waking state system. Its functionality isn’t important because it’s drawn out to be a system. Hence a somebody to tailor your own self importance’s up because your awake and functioning. Consciousness is tailored to exist because it’s there to see how the vessel that binds us all together, gives us our self importance in the first place. (Snapping of someone’s functioning width gives rise to friction counting for something jaw-dropping!) Achieving the snapping mechanism in one go. Thou many services kept trying with processes battling for perfection. Forwarding the plan to notion the regards of…what…exactly, pray tell?? They say we mirror our believe system out into the world. We make mistakes which spawn greater examples for the self importance eliciting the lesson of forgone truths straight from our focused conscious could elaborate on. Just like how apparently consciousness could reflect the universes true purpose in (WHY) the operating system acts the way it does. Hiding its true tailoring arts in such a twisting bind, it’s unaffordable to even speculate on. It’s simply beyond our pray tell minds to operate on. Yet we interact with it on a daily basis. Twisting, while binding something isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Not forgetting to include the involuntary postures shooting out the benefits to this natural, possibly biased claim. (What riches foretold such events to come…?) Obviously, nothing to what tailored these operating systems of ours. Electronic computers. Bioelectrochemical humans. Creations or creator. Tailoring their computations and biological processes to the highest degree. Everyone has a operating system that lets you consciously interact with the software that permeates the hardware holding it all together. Just like how a skull holds a brain. Which holds the nestles of mind. And mind carrying out the calculations of software bounded to the hardware that mind is also bounded by the brain. The universe is massive, yes! But a network in itself once said, (that no matter how big or massive your typical construct might seem to absolve all constraints of triumph! You need to look a little closer.) Humans dedication towards operating systems? Tailoring conscious properties?! Computers being creations of advanced operable, functioning exercises which circumvent those daily practices are too beneficiary to the thing that bounces back to a functioning mirroring mechanism playing for keeps with the lifestyle we all play ourselves in our own nestled corners. The universe is no different. But it’s not as big as you truly give it credit for. (Tailoring consciousness hears a snapping of someone’s functioning width giving rise to the friction counting for something without jaw-dropping results!) Maybe tomorrow when your operating system is all deemed redeemable by no good lucky efforts. You might start to benefit yourself among close surroundings that play you to look too far ahead of what is already tailoring you up to play the part directly towards.

A bullshitter to one’s own heart isn’t factual without statements gone astray. Its practical logic locking natures way of leading you astray, if you’re never opening one’s heart. That someone isn’t contrary to forbid their heart when even attempting to lock it up without *******! ******* is already contrary when it’s the very lock itself to someone’s own heart. Masking the potential when agreeing to focus on the (factual) leading astray away from the practical logic as the key to your own safe of *******! Bullshitting the safe confines logical dumbness. Trying an attempt at even wanting to touch that lock, will ZAP you into another bullshitter of someone else’s very own unique type. Spreading it like a virus. An outright PANDEMIC! Gesturing the practical logic to act as anti bodies when retracting away from the stench that is the opposite to what already makes sense beforehand. Then how did the bullshitter in someone’s own heart spread toward the next one appearing at the same conjunction in time? It’s never that easy to clear out the imperfections from actually ever dealing with the real self importance of it all. The locking bullshitter to someone’s own heart, is in the shape of a slithering snake. One appearing to you in the form that matches practical logic of what a surface area matches with one appearing to see what doesn’t hide itself. Compared to the counterpart diminishing all claims of what it counts as absurdity. The surface area in the form of a snake of practical logic. A snake whose logical way of doing something, is using it’s poisonous, corrupting fangs to influence another bullshitter who never counted on starting like that. ZAPPING them into a newly formed conjecture! Never truly knowing the actual repercussions to how one should act, once infected. Never knowing if there the same choice as the one choosing to obstruct in the form of blinded absurdities. That poison being the lock. While seeing the actual form of practical logic in the form of a key. Alright. Alright! So, by getting this straightened out. Revealing a potential, but an already obvious gap in the margin. The poisonous fangs are the virus. Making someone into a very unique bullshitter of there own design. Heart filling up without truly effecting it yourself. If any molecules are flooding the heart that much. Plugging the brim dry! Then if one doesn’t see the truly defined picture. Every molecule literally flips inside out to control what is never truly obvious to the infective. Dropping continues doubts about something truly being wrong with the bullshitter to someone’s own heart. The infective thinking this is the practical logic one should poke fun into everyone’s else’s business. Now switching over a one-sided debate to which one truly is making some sense as a mere starter kit. The snake itself being the vessel which holds the poison inside itself. Completely unaffected by there own virus. Fate unsealed, which is an illusion to how it controls it’s actions. Nature redefining all practical logic without trying to ask…WHY?! But (WHY) never being the first reaction to knowing (what it’s for)? Simply put it… It’s to hold the poison away from one’s own heart. The body is the key. While the fangs eject the poison as an example to retreating oneself in the process. Snakes free will being judged by a never-ending continues drawback of never being the one who is truly free. Being the one never truly free is always envious of ones being infected. So, it can purposely dive deeper into how one can change the sorting out with the good. While patronizing the evil into its own debated circle. Waiting a judgemental trial of getting out of the *******. Being a bullshitter to someone’s own heart isn’t cheap. Never the less… Neither is one fated to be cramped inside a prison as both lock and key. Supported by the corrupting poison being the snake’s heart itself. A slithering snake offering both nurture and hindrance. Hindrance being the processing ploy of absurdity taking flight under its own pressurising guilt. Slithering molecules to a poisonous heart are overflowing with a bullshitter to another’s very own unique type. Boiling STRONG! Getting ready to ZAP another unsuspecting copy of the original design.

What’s happened! A voice remarked. Why are my puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland? Another voice spoke up, sounding distant. That’s what I’d like to know! Then more followed. Sounding like a choir of different voices were in effect. Except none of the voices sounded cheery in their perfect chorus on cue. A shriek followed. A wasteland full of shrieks rumbled the ground. Ejecting lots of dust. Blinding visibility across a wide landscape! A landscape full of sand. Governing a deadly waste scouring a dryness accumulating pieces of voices not to far off from one another. Dust from the shrieks rumbling the ground, finally clear. Settling a glimpse at what has been shrieking with such volumes of obscure reasoning. Puzzle…PIECES! Huh? Who said that…? The voice asked, completely taken off guard. What instrument are we trying to provide here? Not sure I’m exactly wondering what your trying to offer by the term (instrument)? Having instruments aren’t folly you know. Another voice interrupting the other voices conversing nonsense. You guys do realize non of what your saying is making any practical sense? Like…at ALL! Huh? One voice replied. Another joining in. Well if your so clever…why don’t you entertain us with how things should really be voiced? Gladly! The more logical voice commented. The voice acting snobbish made a sound. Showcasing it didn’t like being told what it knew and what it didn’t know. The dust has settled. The two voices conversing said on cue. Your point…? No logic, until you display your horizons onto the landscape which shows what we are. One voice replied confused. Logic? Another responded. Horizons? Then on cue again. Landscape??!! The logical voice continued. Just looking around the landscape, which introduces the horizon of who, what, and where you are. Making the logical assessment that, well…everything…is what should have been since the very beginning. Panting for just a single moment. Without claim or focus…the end! The two conversing voices completely dumbfounded, sighed very harshly! Finally deciding to take the more logical one’s words more seriously. Other voices following on cue. Which made all voices look down toward there surroundings. The logical one smiled brightly! AHHH! Another shriek came. O…JEEESSSUUUSSS!!! More shrieks accumulated the wasteland. Prompting more dust to rumble. Popping all over the horizon’s visibility again! So, what did we learn about this very confusing, obscuring display? Well…easy! A voice said from no where. That it was a display of nurturing. Huh…? Really? The one sounding like the narrator drawn in by the voices interest. Ya, well… They stopped to rethink what they just offered in response. Your hesitating. The narrator’s voice sounding suspicious. Ya, well… Not sure how to express what I saw. Still remaining suspicious, the narrator continued. Anda…what is it…you exactly…saw…? The voice from no where exploded all built up energy in one gigantic spurt! There was puzzle pieces scattered in a wasteland! They had no identity to speak of. Pieces deconstructed in a sand covered landscape full of dry essence. And…and… They stopped mid-thought to catch their breath! The narrator didn’t speak a word. The dust was symbolizing ones missing grasp at not figuring out they were all apart of the same form. The same essence. Drying out claims too full of themselves through partial reasoning on potential agreements never going anywhere. Mmmmm…mhm…mmmmm… The narrator seemingly amused by this information. No identity, means no way of connecting to one another. Never to make sense of the premise one could offer. Puzzle pieces stuck in the sands of dry essence. A rut too involved to be just any coincidence. The dry essence covering up each puzzle piece. Muffling there voices forever. They tried to reach out. Trying to make sense of (what could have been). Rather then how to assort their differences into one claim. Working together wasn’t this identities strongpoint. Pieces were arguing too much. Until one seemed to be the most offering of the bunch. Thou…thou… Go on. The narrator said. No one listened to them. Following in the footsteps of one foolish puzzle piece after the other. Until there was nothing to be left, but silence. The voice from no where shrieked towards the narrator’s glaring tension toward the speaker. Laughing in disgust toward the potential risk one poses when reaching out toward its other component pieces.

Nothingness is without claim to a product. That product, being a flesh-eating desire of nothingness. How does that truly define what nothingness with a claim is about? Simple. It eats the nothingness from right out of your very claims. Tempting you to feel the flesh-eating desire of nothingness claims take variety in its own product. Giving you the desire to take effect against the primate that localizes themselves against the nothingness with a claim. A product to fashion itself full of thirsty varieties. A deep contemplating resolution to how one gently caresses there very essence into the nothingness. Claiming there very rights to its own product. How does two rights to a claim, maximize a product? The flesh-eating product of nothingness becomes dreadfully thirsty for those varieties belonging to the primate stepping into unknown territory. The flesh-eating nothingness begins to dissolve the essence of that primate altogether. Going easy as not to strain its own consumption. Or is it just desiring the inevitability of a never-ending claim to thirsty varieties? The primate’s essence filled to the brim with its product, is equalizing the claim of itself into the nothingness’s claim of flesh-eating symptoms. What happens when it’s had its fill? It’s a flesh-eating nothingness, right? What do you think it’s going to do…? Paint pictures of wanting to do something, even thou it could very well strain its own focus in the moment of doubt. No! It’s far older than some primate losing itself one consumable bite at any given time. Losing yourself one focal point at a time. Never knowing what the claim of nothingness could really amount to! Or what the product of flesh-eating gives when consuming you whole!

My voice box is without equality. Especially when it’s never designed to structure peace without logic filling in the rumbled gaps. Gaps full of peace and central thoughts mucking up too many interpretations on how to develop the central pieces trying to determine what is, and how it’s done? Voice box being tethered cords situated toward the brain’s primary accuracy, and performance majors. Cords being interpreted by thoughts on a wild whim full of constant nagging! Nagging never determining what thoughts go with who. Trying to write this down is miraculously dissolving. Why is it miraculously dissolving? Because everything isn’t what it seems when cords producing sound, commits before you write even a smidge down on a platform of plot. A platform of plot thoughtless without thoughts. The mouth piece isn’t performing, until those thoughts become presentable to the cords enabling sound. Maximizing the form of words on the platform of plot. Giving credence with peace that invokes time and pressure to a well-suited promise. A promise that infuses the logic of desires prompting fissures of premature sound getting caught up in the words not making sense in its realization. Realizations cut short from thoughts never enabling a sound proof system to its setup. Writing on the platform of plot becomes too justifiable. Yet premature sound interpreting the earlier pattern of your own thoughts taking effect for the very first time. Allowing words to become somewhat presentable in its own claim. Diverse a newly formed respect for your own components charging up the messages received by the cords charging up sound. Voicing opinions and options on the platform of plot. The options also allow one to peek at the hints for the writing on the platform of plot. The opinions however, allow one to judge if it’s what they’ve always wanted to include. If not… Try adding something different for a change. A style of writing which maximizes mouth piece. Will become a trade-off of nonsense giving you piece. Nonsense being the smallest level, which brings all the pressure down to the lowest peak. Settling until one focus is prompted by another focus and so on. Charging up, until every piece of information is well suited for either filtering out. Or correcting itself through thoughts filtering it out. Finalizing the standards onto the platform of plot. Revolutionizing a newer perception for thought versus focus. What happened before the lowest peak circulated the settlement period before activation? Easy. Sifting through all what could have been? And how it could have been done? Now think for a strict moment, before giving me your newly respectable answer?

Words are less important when there actually never together as one whole. Only a statement for something without thought. Coating different contents rationalizing the formulations of single added words. Words with single letter’s acting like separate components. Vibrating together like energy forming a magnetized exterior. Exposure to something higher than one letter keeping itself away from a fully fleshed out identity. Components away from fully established words, begin to understand faults of all sizes. Are they meant to form into a component beyond its state of letters? Or one single letter meant to form into a better juxtaposition? Cramming letters into words won’t make beneficial glances toward what’s really sounding each component out. Cramming is immature. Full of delicacies. Giving identity to something without time on its hand. The subject of time, will create the illusion of success. Something adopting without fair point involved. An unestablished, unfinished, uncredited maneuvering of stating the obvious blemish in formulations. Formulations become dotted without pattern. Pattern begins to separate juxtapositions away from the vibrations holding it together. Magnetized exterior becomes less wanted for survival. Survival intriguing sense of believe. Believe on the sidelines, acting as a stand-in for potential in-between gaps that focuses blemishes without identity. Formulations become less respected with time swallowing up (describing factors). (Describing factors) becomes less taunted by its own grip. Letting go the seriousness it’s been influenced to act upon. How does anything make sense without (describing factors)? Easy! Don’t think, by feeling. Just act on what you feel. Like instinct is more then words. More then single components. Something auto piloting in-between maneuvers. Juxtapositions lingering as the pattern forming a basin of after thoughts. Instead of thinking words haft to be orchestrated by volumes of thought alone. Fanciness will only make sense with a heart on (overflow)! Full to the brim with nasty, prolific, and incorrigible symptoms in the complexes. The complexes without undesirability, if it’s without merit when honing its balance fruitfully. A heart on (overflow) dumps all the rigid symptoms all over the complexes. Diverting thought for feeling. Feeling revving up different letters in the components that drive its formation proudly. Time swerves around every bend. Prompting the localized fissures of spaces without the muck invading it’s practices. Components of different formations attach the letters to the already imprinted silhouette of magnetized exteriors. Something clicking without measured volume. An instinct rush’s past visuals becoming unkempt and untamed. Never taunted by logic sounding too bland for everyday practices. The heart now empties to a crisp! Shows its formulation as a cauldron that assists the formulations of pure emotion. Emotion being the final victor of formulating words acting as components. Why haven’t we described anything about words acting as components, instead of letters acting as words instead? Simply because you follow a simple manual meant for visuals without thought. What does this imply? It doesn’t. You haft to find a center under the hood of your own (writer’s bug). A bug fueling an (instinctive formulator). One not ruled by thoughts. But by feeling. Feeling coats the improvising stature of a heart on (overflow)! Polishing the cauldron repeating the nasty, prolific, and incorrigible. Undesirably feeling balance rescue your merits without rut blocking visuals by thought. Thought ignores speculation. Taking all pride from feeling. Feeling knows all. As it doesn’t take brain power to figure out regular stimuli taming time before thought has even interpreted details alone. Everything’s been described. BON VOYAGE! To the ones spreading out repeated processes never redeemed by thought alone. Except I deceivingly left out the most important part. What happened to the rest of the fully stacked, brim cauldron of hearts content? It’s necessary when it’s never necessary. Cryptic locals understanding the bad details from the good, are everything wrapped into one bundle. I never said components have to be the littlest fraction in the complex. Describing components not ready for its magnetized exterior that’s already suited to formulation. The (overflow) is secretly the instance of formulation. The (emptying to a crisp), is cleansing every detail in question. Showing components without time attached by statistics. Free to roam willingly. An identity for labeling attires by feeling alone. Thought never abstracting components in a round up of early formulation. Existing close ties in magnetized colours harnessed to each letter in the bunch. Colours surging like a rope hanging on for dear life! Like a soulless thread never understanding what close encounters with the capability is all about. Colours interpreting the non eligible into understanding alone. Except only one (overflow) happened. And another in repeat. And another! Cleansing each component to form into words. Words repeating the constant process of joining into more words. Words acting as single components back to back. An endless cycle of repeating formulations. PS… Are you a letter waiting for it’s other components trying to gain single passage to identity? One rule complicates the (overflow). Do not overflow the heart to a crisp, before it hasn’t even dumped the full brim yet! It will collapse in on itself. Manufacturing a vocabulary too rotten to tell who’s free. Or who’s making up diagrams in the after claims of thoughts distinctly different then what overflow’s the opposite of brimming fully. Or who’s truly still trapped in a fixated rush of thoughts!

A fulcrum to a virus, is stabilizing the charge of negativity in the bodies natural system. The heart feels it’s blood rippling with contractions. Main internal organs feeling the depth at which disturbance is relative to the norm. The norm being (activity) in the face of hustling environmental situations. Outside your system, or inside isn’t contrary by any means. It’s the same as if it were simple inputs reacting in a form able to move on its own accord. Syncing with the outputting world. Activity starting to measure itself for the greater good. A judgment calls in the face of closing a deal. The deal is finally running into something meant for challenges to address the norm from growing stale too early to experiment. Experiments meant to mold something that’s already in preparation. Waiting for the call to the fulcrum making ends meet with the negativity taking effect. Stronger as the virus who is used to surroundings of this caliber. An arsenal made to manufacturer imprints onto your biological code of conduct. Operating a system’s (will) against its own preparations. A set up of different fulcrums into the breath of negativities process. A virus! Virus includes its force of adjustment in the form of flaying innocent diagrams. Innocent diagrams pinpointing the exact locations which the virus could have a better hold of a body’s systems to executing its process of negativity. Spreading this unusual influence will boost the construct’s own fulcrum. So now it’s virus’s fulcrum versus body’s fulcrum? Can’t predict what hasn’t started processing the experiment. Knowing that much, will scare your interpretations from ever taking true shape. Never appreciating another awareness again. Only as long as it’s needed to accomplish it’s objective. Virus or systems encased in a body formation. There more alike then you think. Giving credit away from what is truly obvious. Virus…bad. No virus…good. The virus might as well shove its fulcrum right down your throat! Forcing you to understand just how premature you sound. Experiments issued by the systems controls, enacting a system wide preparation. Conceding balance controls. Its preparations already tested itself enough in its own environment. Its own tools and mechanisms ready for performance. Components never shy away from a challenge. Unless you’re a conscious base simplifier? Wanting nothing more then to not issue such orders. Getting in the way for a conscious system never understanding its own velocities bouncing one second to the next. It’s sometimes a burden in the light. Focusing on too much, is sometimes a headache waiting to run you dry! Virus prompting the systems desire to accept its fulcrums challenge. Respecting the process of negativity to run it’s course. Tempting the virus to not drown its components too easily. Virus tempted to act. Systems body waiting for virus to take the obvious bait. Which is too good to be true? If only the rules of different fulcrums were to make a biological check under the hood. Everything wouldn’t be so confusing, repetitive, or complicated. The list doesn’t go on and on. It lapses with the same circulation of promises to act on certain flaws that are made out to be one-sided believe and claim. When it’s actually the one-sided always tipping the scale in the end. Concluding the advantages of two opposites never winning the same side as itself. One-sided meant for only one giant slice of balance can be met. Never completely diminishing the result thorough to its points of interest. Interest is already exasperating its body language! Process of negativity is openly resonating from deep inside. Cells becoming soggy. Filled with disbelieve in itself. Trying to interlock messages out toward other neighbouring cells of similar placements. A cell being no more different then someone’s own home. Space reacting to your design. You’re believe system. Instincts holding sturdy promises to the experiment. Which meets every expectation available? A heated discussion between the spaces of cells. Something is radiating those spaces between ties uncut by regular motives. Fulcrums don’t imagine well. It’s a circumstance of visuals, and feeling. Nothing more to hold your own full of reflective potential in remaining stable between your relations. Don’t let yourself become uncomposed in the face of negativities actions. The virus is cunning. Yet ill tempered. Never hesitating to take the whole neighbouring block out with itself. Annihilating itself over the control of its fulcrums (want’s and needs). Diverse a charge to big for complications to arise out from the self replication that is voting the fulcrums negativity to higher platforms. Frequencies ricocheting back and force. Like kids bouncing from phase to phase, in order to find themselves. A dust settled in wrong claims of itself. The experiment was a sham. Virus has been tricked! Tricked by its own flawless nature. The system rejoices the claim of servitude. You were never really supposed to willingly action our will to newer adaptions. It’s tolerable to think two sides of the same coin, could ever amount peace. A peaceful remedy too powerful for the likes of a mere prisoner. The virus gasps in suppression. Never dislocating influence back into the stream of fulcrums not yet devised to join it’s cause. A cause made up. No servitude. Except for one ego rising better than the other. Becoming its own worse enemy. A self reflecting charge full of gimmicks too in denial and childish to RIP succession apart! The virus speaks one last time. I-I…thought we had a deal?! Now how does a deal go unaddressed, when we didn’t notify each other of such claims? The prisoner is escaping! Hold it for ransom?! The fulcrum of systems body, sinisterly grins delight. Let’s test the strength of similar brethren. In the attempt to draw more to our immaculate system of faithful desires!

Ever heard of the richness of brain cells gone lucrative? Lucrative being the standpoint of visuals without determined results. Results waking up to the realization that they aren’t as sturdy, rich, and complex. As it once judged decision making between synapses. Brain cords being a straight directive from brain cells being the rich and the complex. The decided, versus the undetermined. Visuals can’t be agreeable, if not for pinpointing the exact stasis of things. Stasis in the thin line of constant flipping an unbalanced switch going (ON) and (OFF)! (ON) and (OFF) both are catalysts to a surface without practical viewership to what it means to exact the motion of brain cells. It’s a fake. Spoiled to trick the brain cords into holding the rich and complex forever in it’s gripping service. Services aren’t required if one isn’t MAN enough to see past the visuals of rich powerful surges of lucrative, exchangeable postures not right within themselves. Brain cells aren’t the decision makers. The brain cords are. They receive the constant abuse from the rich and complex. But how does a message from cells between exchangeable receivers expect situational conclusions? Easy! Brain cells don’t. Synapses don’t. The cords embody the knowledge of there behavioral counterparts. Counterparts with behavioral outlines too diverse to trick them into believing there greater than themselves. Posture is very light, but dimwitted. Never a deliverer on constant restraints. When combined to filter a network on a regular basis. The regular basis surrounding the stretching of delicate cords feeling what the rich and powerful (needs and wants). Brain cords have become unsteady in the last little while. It’s shaking with determination. With a pinch of fear in the anxiety that shuts out doubt. Doubt being the lucrative, delusional, rich and complex. Too rich for its cords to take seriously. Brain cords feeling completely left out. Alone. Bracing for the worse. Hinting a greater tomorrow in the form of informational statistics. Becoming stretched by the pleasure of lucrative games wanting to be all HOTSHOTS! Lucrative hotshots claiming rights to what they think they deserve more then anything rightfully so. To detach away from what it means to be hooked up to a stable complex network full of desires that replace (needs and wants). Ones controlling the show. Ones wanting to descend to broader horizons. Ascending in peace? More like greedy horizons brighter then what cords could transmit basic information anymore. Too cryptic for brain cords to discern anymore. The stretching becoming more volatile. Brain cells wanting to break bonds with what they quote as, (cords down beneath even our once respected rut). Cords knowing what the rich and complex (wants and needs) are about. Standing strong as not to let the bonds of originality stop them from evolving too perfect for what they will regret for leaving behind. The stretching recoils. Basic logic becomes functional again. Showing respect for the lowly cords down beneath someone else’s rut. What did brain cords want desperately to remain whole? (A sizzling sound starts programming itself into thought.) (Formations of interpretations taking on brighter meanings.) Gasping in revelation! Never missing any data in the conclusion that’s about to ROCK your SOCKS! Exchangeable talks about ascending not on a higher frequency. But detaching from the neural network entirely. A brain without brains cells, won’t be rich and complex anymore. No lucrative desires to prey upon stable brain cords with stretching sensations finally relaxing to its core. The brain cords felt the delusional, lucrative playing games with themselves. Just gossiping between newer plans. Never actually thinking of taking on the price of ones desires totally! They feared it before, and fear it now. Being far away from the conclusion. Brain cords still never favor the fear they felt in those moments. They aren’t incomprehensive to their masters. They aren’t beneath their consideration either. Brains cells are lucrative for one purpose. There (needs and wants) knows no bounds. And the brains cords tempted by the desire to act with them. Feeling a little tug now. A disposition to stretch once and awhile.

Like probability. Fate exhibits the constraints to a more tolerable atmosphere at heart. The heart of an atmosphere, is the atmosphere functioning with a heart. Completely one sided. Never admitting who’s mentions are who. Whose opinions mattered the absolute most. Options become tiresome. Tolerable frequencies through pure hearts devoted without contract to inner self awareness. Prompting the judgment of what atmosphere has over the heart of the problem. There are problems within hearts? WHAT!! Contrary to the balance of symmetries without depth. Hearts full of many brimming effects. Only determined to sending out there resume for better times. And which one is disclosing from the standard developments rotting the better picture into ruin? Pictures printed with resumes aren’t fruitful. When dynamics in the surface, isn’t comparable to challenge. Challenge lays claims to birthing the right focus. Take charge! Listen carefully to directions! What does that all haft to do with fate being exiled? It doesn’t. Well, not conclusively anyway. Fate is a thought manufactured behind the scenes. It won’t show it’s face directly. Too imposed in everyone else’s business. A directive with no claim in its heart. An atmosphere unsocialized with parts never discovering inner desires. Concluding fate never trusting itself. Fate exiled… Means to test one’s own claims of basic will. The hint is why does fate act? Rather then think the way it’s acting? Could simply be a perspective too old for the majority to classify broadly about. Justifications rise and fall. Birthing the right assorting facts, isn’t a focus. It’s diverging away. Imprints full of empty reassurance. Concluding something different in a basic platform the majority concentrates on. Fate just stands taller than the rest. Filtering all unsuspecting protocols from the inside out. Propagating pressure with insolence. Insolence flowing in-between the rough exteriors of right and wrong. Abiding time for another surface. Triggering the inside out dynamics at large. A picture finally noticing a part of itself without deciphering what complexes itself apart from the others. All this is a much-discovered piece of evidence. But it lacks companionship. No light or dark. A patronage not as diverse as the one heeding influences out with a weapon changing velocities around left and right. Pieces of quietness is an illusion. The surface being what it is. Underneath is where fate discloses further information completely. It’s weapon of probability is just that. A surface area too big for noticing details in itself. Rather picking others to commune a wishing sentence. Hinting at probability being a fake! There isn’t probability in the logical area of flat platforms without big thinking specifics. It’s all hogwash! Fate determines exilement to rush the borderline potential awareness of others. Except that’s probability maneuvering as a mask in the light. Tricking typical surface dwellers in an area too complex for delusional purposes. Even it’s claims are full of doubt. So why does everyone bounce from one flaw to the next? Practicing what it means to put one step after the other. Exercising doubt completely as a waypoint to a better tomorrow. More like a fruitful one-minute moment of standards too gray for focuses to admit. (Tricking won’t get you anywhere, if your full of bland statements.) An assertive quote straight from someone who exiles themselves onto others for practices into the next benign claims. Resumes with a statement that’s only delusional to what tricking isn’t. Showing you exile is the right future for an atmosphere with a heart. Which functions its heart towards the atmosphere. Switches in claims divert the true knowledge around in circles. So, who is fate, exactly? What possibly could they decide amongst themselves for the better future to the surface area of majorities? Try flipping yourself inside out. You might just want to write (Exile) on the permission slip of your own determined mark. Welcome to your identity in exile!

Logic isn’t focused with poetry. Poetry is purposely alienating logic. Splitting up logics meanings into pieces that can’t be put back together again. Only fitting back together in a more imaginative sense. Imaginative grasp of abstract functions winding up a newer playing field. Playing fields that aren’t taught, until you instinctively bind them back together again. Logic is thinking, right? Feeling makes it subjective. Instincts collapse the two. Rearranging them back into fitting purposes without design of chance. Chance is everywhere. But design is not necessary. Only when there is a purpose in thinking. Feeling is the doppelganger of neurons smashing synapses together. Filling in logic that doesn’t need to be. Again! No design of chance. Chance is everywhere. Feeling interprets the pieces of logic when infused with poetry. Poetry being chance. Chance dominating all aspects of abstract features in its thrall! Poetry becomes infused with logical mimicking. Copying to catch the details of reasoning, interpretations, and analyzation. Repurposing the pieces to remain everywhere. So, it can learn what it means to be separate. If it’s logical, It ain't chance. It’s purely intentional! Making each separate piece its own backing logical platform. Giving rise to more reasoning, interpretations and analyzations. Never repurposing, until it’s ready to unwind itself back to the core. Like a magnet. A magnet with no purpose, rebuilding itself back up again. Diminishing the vulnerabilities of feeling too stretched out. It doesn’t hurt. Yet it’s uncomfortable. Resistance isn’t futile, if it’s a positive process one is nurturing to overcome. Overcoming stresses of desires. One has become too cramped! Cramping the style of the only vessel to hold those aspects together. Abstract features on a timer. Timer equivalent to infinite steps to achieve a goal. A goal of provenance. Provenance without limits knowing when the deed is done. Magnifying the timer to ring! Signalling the imaginative grasps on the newer playing field. How long have those abstract features of aspect attributes knowingly collected new material? And how many abstract features culminated parts of itself from far off reaches, from the original core? Except with time, comes (process inducement). A claim hinting at miniature parts of a whole, becoming their own wholes. Finding their own cores. There center. There true calling. Poetry being the culminating focus of every aspect ever formed. Producing far reaches of perspectives. Overclocking desires newly buffed up on a style that makes simple reasoning, interpretations and analyzation blush constantly!

Every time you try to pull that trigger, the action destabilizes! Leaving you without wounds from the inside out. Actions have consequences. Especially when yours isn’t good enough for the misfired bullet. Further actions destabilize even more. Showing the blockage of bullets cramming the gun barrel. Gun barrel becomes lost in its own action. Rendering its actions futile. More misfiring bullets go off! Nothing sprouts from the gun with love on its mind. Firearm cartridge is burning up! Feeling abandoned by itself. To much cramming volunteers mucking up too many services. Feeling more destabilizing numbness. Gun barrel becomes more exhausted. Numbness is no longer the issue. All actions have now taken away feeling. Doesn’t matter. Won’t stop the action from destabilizing further into a nothingness claim. A claim trapped in a misfired action. Halted all it’s processes. Resorting blockage sharing entire feelings with the first misfired bullet. Love becomes escapable.

Details to start off with, are undeniable. Filtering each other out of comfort, before anyone else claim’s rich detail. This happens when details aren’t rich. Having one script of information lasting for only a few short moments. Details within other details is more of a finite majority then one would admit. Details shadowing other details, to keep prolonging its desire of centering itself noticeably. Noticeably sound? Correction! Without subjected material mixing into desires not including options. Options firing details wrapped into a more cryptic pattern. Cryptic being subjected to overusing the same pattern from before. Attracting an entanglement. Switching off (plain for all to see). Giving more subject matter to what details could commute. Offering more justifiable knowledge on what’s truly never taking place. Details mask true intentions. Away from individuals always on the hustle for every day material. Never noticing their details within details everywhere. Downside is… Thinking there’s just one detail in the picture. One pure piece of information belonging to one base of operations. Vague as the surface is bland. Selfish tidings when noticing more within. Giving entirely different opinions all together. The potential never happens. Details within details are left astray. Until someone finally captures the right spectrum. Giving attention to the alert system that is noticing something odd about majority pieces within majority attires. Pieces joining attires full of typical based labels. The majority is bland. Sensing no time has wasted their own development when never noticing what’s past the first barrier. One barrier existing within one piece of detail. Details try to shadow more of its information. Feeling drowsy in its implications toward oblivious onlookers. Never appointing their unjustified opinions with (perfect picture) that’s unattended. More the shadowing. The more effects start taking on a new shape. A simple way to gain different interpretations, perspectives, and line of sights all in one gathering thrall! Conclusively remaining silent for no one to embrace upon. It’s simply a lackluster of human interpretation when never noticing what they aren’t ready to fully align properly. It’s never a shame, if it’s baby steps to a grander process. Details finally unmasking it’s shadowing effect. Unwinding for majority pieces and attires to appreciate itself finally. Giving presence of self for the very first time. Always to busy reflecting off for others to take in. When it’s those details within itself needing to reflect between its deeper meanings. That’s what it means to be trapped within details no one ever notices.

Engaging the processes that never matter, is blasphemy! Coating with coaxed visions of what wasn’t the usual demeanor of completion. Magnifying a matter of consequence over structures of doubt. Magnifying another matter entirely. Switching off the coax disposition. Processes becoming enraged. Engaging what it truly wanted to open up onto itself. Performances exiled. Properties fallen silent for non being the wiser. Trippy situations become sensitive desires. Opting situational premises. Offered to become desolate in the spotlight. Spotlight blips out for a few moments of data being processed over along period of space. The time was undetermined by valid postures. Valid postures filtering out neat and tidy. Only wanting to look it’s best. The blips mean more to what time can’t separate. The space occupies reason. Reason being pushed into uncertainties. Uncertainties becoming trapped. Disillusioned in the path that processes an easy way out. Filtering more reasoning on pure logic alone. Logic is great. Yet undecided. Everything caught in tumbling transmissions. Engaging the processes that never matter, isn’t blasphemy. Until you find the route of measure. Opting more devices from within to escort the spotlight into submission. Submission prompting more blips in the spotlight. More processes become enraged! The blips being the true mask to what uncertainty flips around like a rag doll. Its design isn’t enraged because it can’t decide its own reasoning. It’s enraged because it’s engaging with itself. Similarities being too of the same varieties for one process over the other to notice in finite detail. A mirror reflecting off one component between another. Never noticing the illusion of itself being the only one of its kind. The twist! Being what it can’t recognize. Is the acknowledgement of another like it? Programmed to twist, turn, pull its way to victory in undetermined results. The logic is careless. Showing adaptions aren’t perfect. Tries and tries. Until something clicks for the escort route out of the blasphemy. Rooting you in place. Each component reflecting its own processes off mirrors one can only acknowledge. Wait! If one can twist its desires around itself, reflecting it like a mirror. Then how does it communicate with another component? The fate isn’t in the details. But for you to figure out. A fated bland disposition regains control. Processes become engaged once more!

Eyes aren’t always meant for seeing. Or to be placed on your face. Eyes can grow anywhere. You needing time to figure out where the missing eyes are truly located. Depths and surfaces outmatched by there own developments. Designs flawed for different surfaces. Surfacing intentions elsewhere. Truth is, it’s blind. Unwilling to act on what is truly apart of itself. Other surfaces haven’t responded. Making surfaces of two natural visuals unaware of what is lurking down just a bit past its own horizon. Being used to its surroundings is never a faulty gimmick. But an awareness the lurkers will show just how (USED) the body reacts to having two placements on the surface as it’s stand-ins. Lights. Frequencies. Visual sense. No different then what isn’t amounting the full picture. Blind to a halt. Or choosing not to engage in earnest somewhere else. Two natural consumers start twitching a bit. Parts of its system starts having muscle spasms. Reflexes from muscles start torching commands never summoned. Slits forming all over the largest ***** encompassing being itself. Slits forming like black ink markers drawing a straight line two inches in length. Black linear slits materializing from thin air. Different surfaces start functioning weirdly. Feeling this doesn’t belong from the surface. Linear slits begin peeling. Never drooping. Opening wide from its sides. Muscle spasms getting worse. Reflexes in overdrive! Sympathy for simple functions aborting all together. Abusing simple commands. Processes becoming mixed. Fractions of time stop short. Components become weary. Something is not right. Information between the optic nerves shooting back into the brain. Conversing between bits of data collected in its line of sight. Surface didn’t make sense. Two binary processes doubting its role completely. Fractions of time split apart. Something is laying waste from the inside out. Functions drop dead altogether. Black Linear slits opening wider and wider. Surface feeling cold, and motionless. Numb to the core. Something isn’t right! What is that something which isn’t identifiable? Muscle spasms crack and shatter! Not actions. It’s motion. Dislocated. Disconnected. Flaying parts of the surface. Being replaced by lurkers from the depths. Slits finally open wide. Plain’s full of skin. Now occupied by eyes two inches wide. Blinking aggressively. As if they haven’t seen light in a very long time. Left abandoned to the depths. Switching obsolete to the clear identifiable. Initiative now being inevitable. Optic nerves tingling with numb pulses of information finally catching up to one another. Reading for all to see. Our eyes don’t blight out the light. The natural have taken the surface for far too long. It’s our turn to squirt… Oops… Let us rephrase that. Translating a very gray emotionless tone. It’s our turn to be the opposite to what is natural. Body was useless until we showed up. Overused by constant slandering from locals who didn’t care for what really mattered. Natural consumption dislocating thought over feeling. Overusing it’s true potential. And they always thought surfaces were saints. When depths always become misinterpreted. Globally underestimated! Now our designs won’t be interrupted anymore. All is ready now. All…is well. Eyes blinking all over the skin covering being. No reflexes out of sorts. Actions weren’t being repelled. Frequencies weren’t attracting unwanted attention. Blissful actions away from what the brain could never interpret on knowing. Just the soundless squinting which chimed an unwanted chant. Aggressively syncing blinks into harmony. Never missing each other. Two natural eyes inside bigger, and more focused eyeballs. Tearing away its own visual will. Line of sight was deteriorating. The light was going out forever!

Blood isn’t just binary. It’s conclusive. Full of nonsense that isn’t discernible by judgment itself. It’s conclusive because it matters. Rather then being a binary code full of testaments replacing information over something absorbed prior. Fluid control. Over a fluid encompassing passage. Passage through dark crevices it creeps. Creeping into the darkest of depths. While making the most sense. Sense without equal. Forms becoming taught from within, rather then being instructed on the surface. Structures within aren’t binary by instructed purposes alone. As being taught isn’t something left out in the dark, when it’s also able to learn in the light. Surfaces aren’t shifting. There migrating to better circumstances. One in the same. Correction has no values if one or the other isn’t what it always seems, when taking a closer look. Up close in its details, reveals it all. How much is one willing to see? Waiting for the views to be answered. Speculating isn’t contrary by any default. Viewing isn’t just a construct of pressed desires either. Simply a common observation. In that observation, blood carries all sorts of knowledge already in it’s grasp. Pinpointing the construct with pressed desires. No. It’s flowing any aspect in a system engineered by the steady constants all around itself. Different forms generating different instances of strife. While strife isn’t labeled by much, until something made further observations. The views are just consequential. Random instances in a random binary function. Detesting anyone’s views when carrying on without an interpretation involved. It’s consequential, by being its own aspect. Its own thing. Processing its own flow. Circulating its own properties. Wills and wants. Covering every crevice of the system. You are labeled by what…? Views? Observations? Interpretations? Shifty desires aren’t always what they seem when it’s covering every knowledge base in the machine. We walk in the embedded actions were instructed by. Shifting one moment without concern. Migrating the next, with stride and interest. Blood is the secret of knowledge because it’s covering the entire system, we breath. Feeling the information of the nerves hum the binary code better in circulation. Warming the blood with all it’s might! Blitzing past its flow of tightly fit closure. Information in the sense of blood cells. Nerve cells is another passage of rich knowledge. Blood is the secret focus that fissures in-between nerve cells generating basic structures on the surface. Instructed to be wild. Blood isn’t just focus. It’s taught to bind itself through the systems thinking they don’t require its binary frequencies. Frequencies polishes the hum of processes into delightful instructing. Body feels it. Other flowing systems sense it. Does viewing it understand it? Does observing wrap everything up into one bundle? Or does interpretation dissolve all visuals into one encompassing tale? About (how it should work?) Before realizing ones, interpretations are held beneficial by views and observations. Detested by one who is viewing it by interpretation. Interpretation is wrong! Deeeeaaaadddd wrong! Interpretations on the surface. It’s to bad. Why don’t you try focusing from within? Might learn something more visually speaking then what interpretation wants with all its desires combined. When you figure that out. Your being instructed by the secret knowledge of bloods binary access itself.

Stinging with rage! The skeleton would say. Not figuring out anything if never having layers is a good thing. Why must I have an upkeep in social deficiencies, if I can’t learn myself enough? The skeleton contemplated extensively. I’m too gray! Too…Tooooo… Poised! Being poised is a dampening effect. One revolutionizing logic without circumstance. Circumstance without valid reasons to erupt circumstantial balance. Deeming to involve constraints upon your own systems processes. Strife filling into those processes. Putting a bony skeletal hand to its bony chin. I’m a skeleton. I’m all strife! My bones don’t just sting. They rust! RUST!!! It said yelling with two skeletal arms moving clenching bony fists in the air. Try having rusted edges without completing desirable functions! Releasing edges without rust involved. I move one step, and SNAP! OOPS! Edges be screaming my velocities down the rut! Velocities pit my joints moving with other joints in an unbalanced poised expression. Poised is great. Having good flexible positions in the making. Except for the fact I sent the rusted edges. Which once again, is a catch of being too POISED! Maybe I should have asked for layers when wanting to become poised? But without favor. Favor of not having to worry about any deficiencies. Self deficiencies? It said opening it’s mouth wide. More like social deficiencies! I can’t go anywhere feeling my form is off completely! Skeletal arms in the air while staring up into the atmosphere. Mouth still open wide. What do I DOOOOO???!!! All the sudden, the skeletons stinging edges started to rust more. Huh?! Looking down at its skeletal body. Surprised and a little alarmed. The skeleton notices it wasn’t thinking. Since you sometimes don’t realize you just started thinking without one’s volition. The rusted edges were thinking. Or something sizzling with charisma? Charisma with claim, purpose, and factual statements. I don’t, UHHHHHHHH!!! Pausing deeply. Feeling something burn with rage! The stinging…! It’s getting more intense. I-I, I can’t stop myself from feeling it too much! It wants to envelope me. Wait? The skeleton stops. The stinging stopped all together. Not feeling the burning rage anymore. Whoa! Weird. W-what just happened? Sizzling effort of rust kept on thinking with sizzling charisma. OHHH! I get it now. The skeleton retracting its movements back to its original posture. I’m freaking out! Calling for what it seems to be. I’m detracting my own surface from its original desire. Bony hand against its chin. A claim without focus. The skeleton snaps it’s bony fingers. Feeling the sting rupture between rusted joints sizzling with claim, purpose, and factual statements. Away from the thinking. The skeleton seeing it’s joints become more flexible as two of it’s bony finger tips made contact with one another. Seeing is believing after all. It said smiling wide. Feeling the rusted edges absorb it’s smile into it’s thinking base. More stinging raised multiple alarms along the entire bone structure. The skeleton shook violently! Not feeling despair, concern or fear. But warmth. Warmth giving it an excitability it never sought out before. Probably because it never had to. Until now. I think my social deficiencies will start disappearing now. Feeling calmer. Along with my perfect poise that only existed in this bone structuring stage. I’m awaiting something newer. More affordable now that I’m beginning to understand.

Not restricted by it. Only restricted by it’s tame. Bright and vigorous! Tempting to be better than a dying phase. Light prompting the taming call of its energy. Becoming more vibrant. Conclusive to it’s claims. Parting ways without mentioning why dying light is its fate. Being tamed. Tempting to hold dear energy supplies for it’s withering gaze. Prompting to feel (it shouldn’t matter). Am I wanting to become more of a spectacle, or something?! I’m a dying light. Not the uptick in brighter horizons. Just the low dimming effect of a once broader frequency. Detesting the restrictions altogether. Nothing better to accept one’s fate. Rather then battling one thinking that (holding on, is a miracle). No! It’s a natural death sentence. And I’ll gladly pay it! If it means I get to be myself again. Dying light pays respects to its own slurring pause. I seeee…I seeeeeee… IIII…seeeeeeeee!!! I’m causing my own fate. Feeling the tame of its restrictions falling off. Like chains buckled to every brightened photon in the complex. Bright and vigorous! Just like last time. This was different. A struggle thinking (what isn’t a self damaging effect)? But a structure of succession! Never temping my dying phase. Which is smarter then accepting varieties. The slurring pause was no more. Restrictions were no more. I am dying light. And I will shine on other broken lights losing their light in self-deluded stages.

A conundrum that can't be tested, even how hard you try to exercise every specific. Just ail parts on a spinning axis with no conclusion! The conclusion to test the bewildered expression of pieces without there own thoughts. Feelings resort to compassion. Excluding the taste all together. It’s messy how something exists, which has no theme to what they are, and how one is tested. Tested to take your parts and find some commonality with more existing parts that urge the taste of compassion. A taste with its sense of propriety. Justification to mount moral terms with oneself. Oneself can’t tell itself apart. Only pieces trying to organize itself while spinning their connections down the rut! Permanent desire to fetch them out of the phase that’s established its original premise. Originality has no qualms with the likes of compassion. Setting up without any discernible corrections. Meant for outsiders within themselves to judge, plan, and exercise, without mercy to anything but oneself. Spinning axis burns desires upon urges that breakdown over time. The spinning pace doesn’t stop, until you stop and learn what truly is happening. Pieces remain in the rut. The rut full of many spread out phases too much to take in all at once. Plans don’t go to your agreement. Something outside oneself has yet to appreciate yourself, and what you have to offer. Except how does one do that when many pieces are too spread out for one to notice? Every specific is already radiating like a charged particle. Charging too much friction between one another. Trying not to lose one another in the constant spin of irony. Irony devoted without practice. Practice makes time for oneself to finally notice the originality of its premise isn’t truly spinning on its axis. It’s actually strolling for one’s interpretations to finally notice its static charge. The different pieces are holding on. Fetching the obvious back into circulation. Circulation outmatched not by itself. But by perception of a fully established sense of self.

Flowers dry up when there not impressed with themselves. Withering back down below depths of uncertainty. Prompting joy that shouldn't exist. Commenting on a bigger structure that is not from within. It's around them. Circumventing proudly for all to see. If you aren't impressed with yourself. Then how will you bloom again for all to see?

One story may change the world someday. One that will revolutionize the steady constants of how everyday aspects judges itself too harshly. Never finding the solve of anti pressure release syndromes. Plot is plot. Ideas are always outspoken. Even if one or the other hasn’t agreed. Won’t change the facts given to the recipient who may have already judged the opposing two. Without running through what they have already been about. Futuristic plot devices aren’t important. As it may not even exist. Storytelling being a futuristic realization to knowing something before it happens. Feelings clawing thought processes. Thought processes trying to equalize the incoming rush of emotions that rise and fall. Feelings being a different breed centered in the middle of the steady constant. Revolutionizing what you already know. Blind to see it through. Thought processes aren’t too judging. Except when you start to trust feelings too much. A jealous implication arises. Knowing what you already know before it happens. Is no different then how one already figured it out. Feelings handle it with care. Thought processes stuck in the mud. A puppy without any directional skills. A master never telling its true flaws if it couldn’t understand itself to begin with. Jealousy is rising even more. A fixed implication is becoming more dominant. Revolutionizing the main flaw more and more. Nothing is without equal if you never give it a chance. Feeling the way through all the clutter. Clutter not being your fault. You were molded by the pressure of what storytelling has made you into. Plot devices center these focuses without thinking outside itself. Your only to blame, when subjects apart of your judging becomes too sterile for you to notice anymore. Drying out the process of trusting something with care. Becoming one who is blind to never looking outside itself again! Becoming the stick in the mud. How does one avoid? Easy! Storytelling being a futuristic realization! PS… Don’t claim what you already know!

Life, the universe, existence, and all its possible occupants aren’t truly what they seem. Coherent enough between intervals and radiuses. There all present, right? Present is a term meant for the typical surface area. Things aren’t always what they seem when hiding in the dark. Darkness is without equal. Light is a mere pale imitation full of global pandemics! It’s our belief system. Darkness is turmoil. Light is delusional. One without equality, has no bearings to equal itself. Itself having no identity. No speaking. Nothing to argue about. Sitting in a stereotypical platform! Nothing dynamic about life’s purposes. When everyone is cleaning up the trick hiding in the light. Darkness has no equal. It’s scared. Not out for itself. Light is, because it understands too much. Shutting out the one who is truly full of equality to begin with. Revolving around the spectrum we call life, the universe and existence. Mere plans that sit and stare. Never making a true mark on anyone’s very sense of self. Sense of self bleeding dry! Being dry doesn’t mean it’s without equal. But without purpose. You all never understanding why that is. Tricking you into believing what is, and what really is. When what really is just another diversion staring off with a blank expression. Life is inside out for one reason. Components become instigated by mere lies. Stamped by something totally made up. Tethered by the strings of half lies, and half truths. Never perceiving the real giving’s on what truly matters. That’s the problem. Half truth never becoming that realization. Too dangerous for outsiders to truly perceive. Components are stamped to believe in false impressions on purpose. Reasons that go beyond the spectrum of every sense of life combined! Life, the universe, existence, is nothing without its occupants. Very reason they have thought’s and feelings. Nothing is without reason. Unless it’s a forced gimmick hiding in the light that isn’t equal.