Tank all your profiles,
Cause they're tightening a snare.
𝘞𝘩𝘰 are you identifying?
Are these my views?
Is that my perspective?
Is it 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦?

Tank all your profiles,
Cause it's harder to get ******* physical than digital.
It's either a check or an x
To be marked onto your square.
A few fascists' dream
Is a legislative nightmare.

Like bouquets of flowers
Which are all but homogenous
And withering from neglect.

Like a classic & well known speech;
But someone altered it greatly
From structure, wording, & hermeneutics.

Like beaches of glass,
Where time & wave deny
Any smoothing of edges.

Poetry is long-winded,
The stanzas bore
Through ups & downs.

Dude, cultists are so awful.
Double-speak, indirect action,
All this horrid pageantry.
The intelligence is so lacking,
The feebleness so evident.
Not only in the strength of their arguments
But by the content of its body.
Frankenstein & the monster.
Very stupid.
Arrogant, ignorant?
Yep.
Short-sighted, unintelligible?
Absolutely.
It would stun to think
If it weren't so simplistic.
To take such a reductionist view
On things so complex,
I do understand that need for you.

Baseless threats
And poor attempts at intimidation.
Meek control
Where everything is construed as favor.
Cannibals,
Obsessed with their palate & others' flavors.
Barbarians,
Bastardizing the words of others.

But to run with it
After you understand it,
You're a ******* imbecile.
To not build upon it
But to take it as gotten:
You don't get anything.
It shows.

If you don't wanna understand it, don't.
You're not held to comprehension.
If you don't want to agree, don't.
You're not held to a thing in discussion.
If you don't want to think, don't.
You're still liable for your actions.
If you don't want to speak, don't.
You're still liable for its consequences.

Personally? Don't have a fit,
I don't give a ****.
Smell the flowers!

Slowly,
I passed by the treeline.
The weeds growing over the path,
The bricks weathered & chipped.
The breeze was chap.

Silently,
I walked down the path.
The reeds by the pond shooting up,
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.

Compassion walked beside,
Curiosity wandered nearby.

The branches drooped low,
The forests creaked with life.
Further along, a river flowed.
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape,
Yet sharp as a knife.

Lilypads adorn with lotus
Floated idly atop the pond surface.
Frog leaped, dragonfly darted by;
The fish jumped up from the water
And rested at my feet on the shore.

"Let's help this fellow out!"
"How peculiar! Out or back in?"

Slowly, silently;
Delicate in its trace upon the landscape.
Nearby, beside;
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped.
Passed by the treeline;
The breeze was chap, yet sharp as a knife.
Down the path;
The branches drooped, the forests creaked.
Darted, leaped;
The shoreline lapping & beckoning.
Wandered, walked;
The bricks weathered & chipped.
Darted, leaped;
Rested at my feet, the shore.
Walked, wandered;
Floated idly atop the pond surface.

Further along, a river flowed.

Spring comes
And I find myself fond of fall.
Summer dawns
And I admire more winter.
Fall arrives
And I cherish spring newly.
Winter blossoms
And I appreciate summer more clearly.

****, this website
Just ate one of my works.

One which was a repost
From January of 2024.

Relating how I was delving deeper
Into quantum theory & mythology,
Into the sciences broadly & philosophy.

How I was going to mix them
And make them intermingled.

How I would mix that of my life,
Or more aptly how I write of it,
With that of new science & old antiquity.

By mythology, philosophy, & theology.

So as to create digestable content
That inter-wove those concepts
To better translate them to any given audience.

Compassion,
The path of all things.
To care about nothing
Would be to learn just the same.

Curiosity,
The drive of all things.
To have it about nothing
Would be to receive just the same.

And thus, we have our twins!
Two constants with reciprocal natures
In continuous flux, each a prerequisite of the other.

To coddle one too much
Means the deprivation of the other.
To neglect either
Means the neglect of each other.
That is,
To neglect either is to reject both.
To foster chaos is by either's rejection,
In that both shall neglect each other.

The incompassionate mind is not curious.
The uncurious mind is not compassionate.

As in, by our neural structures,
The ways we decide to go
Are like the paths which grow.
For you leave more than only footprints
Where no man has ever walked before.
Yet, that you leave nothing,
You constantly walk those roads.
Yet, that it is immaterial,
You still do so in the physical.
Yet, that it is material,
You still do so in the metaphysical.

For it's inbetween being betwixt,
For it's seperate & imperceptible.
For it's singular, yet collective.
For it's collective, yet individual.
For it's infinitesimal, yet infinite.
For it's eternal, yet finite in existence.

That is, existence like ice
Slowly melting into water.
That it remains the same,
But changes & fluctuates
Relative to any environment.
As like with the constraints of time,
Actions outward of the body.
Action of the outward body.
In relation to it,
Matter unchanged
But translated via a different state.

Celebrate.
To live is for life,
But we all die sometime!
Yet, is this change?
Transmutation by that of another order?

Something perennial, yet still coming into being.
Something endless, yet but only just beginning.
Something futuristic, yet which is already happening.

They say,
"Ignorance is bliss."
Do you know why that is?
You're unaware of all the things you've "missed."

Things already in existence,
Things already happened,
Things happening;
That which is existing.

All that exists.
To reduce it,
We're all learning what 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 is.
Learning ignorance, decoding from it wisdom.

So what is it to be knowledgeable?
What is there that is knowledgeable?
What is knowledge?
Does intelligence exist?

What torture ignorance is!
When you treat ignorance as such,
Perhaps it is.
Being so ignorant,
I could see it.
For the foolishness of it
Is that it is the only route to wisdom!

In how we define it?
By how we describe it?
Of how we perceive it?

Perception birthing perspective,
Yet both products of their environment!
"Self-copulation?"

Of course, given context,
The definitions fluctuate.
So, then our perception of it
And thereby our descriptions of them,
Change or fluctuate also.

Like the rain falling.
Like ice forming.
Like water flowing.

Wanna be pervasive on thoughts?
On carte blanche?
I'll give you a perverted stream
And force you to wade in it.

I'll tease you with wonder,
I'll keep from you the infinite.
Enjoy your *******?
Have another pile of manure!

"Praefectus,
What does it mean to grow?" Said R & R

For I am Hellas - Helios,
But you shall be Rhṓmē.

"Is it just to take a name?"

For all of this is taking?
You, I shall name Romulus.
For you I share nothing.
For it means brutality.

"What might you give me?"

For all of this is given.
You, I shall name Remus.
For you I give favor.
For it means kindred spirit.

"Where are you going?"

You two are nearly yet full grown.
I have given a verdict,
Remus is to lead the people.

"That isn't fair! This is an injustice!"

Come back with me to Hellas,
If that really is your perspective,
Your family shall still welcome you home.

"I deserve this! All of this!"

Deserve what?
Who are you who I named?
Who are you who I raised?

"I reject these ways!"

Good. You may still yet come to understand them.
Heed my decision. When have I ever acted against your interest?
Praefectus is the most honorable of professions, I sense no honor in you.

"That's your fault! Your perception! Your perspective!"

You are still very young, Romulus.
The brutal mind can incapacitate,
Both problem & thinker.
You 𝘤𝘢𝘯 choose to be either.

"You speak in riddles, fool! No one can understand you!"

Your brother understands fine.
In fact, he understands them perfectly.
For your brother, not you, has wisdom.

"I will **** you!"

Save it, child. I told you, I'm leaving.
Heed my decision. When have I ever acted against your interest?
You are not fit to be a leader.



What can one who learns everything
Always still have a chance not to know?

To be unbiased, to be impartial.

So Kronos is the name, yes?
And Ouroboros the title?
Can you guess what they were responsible for?

Keeping time is more
Than just watching the shadows.
More than just lurking in them,
More than just by lurking among them.

Coming from a time of oral record;
What, or more aptly whom,
Is responsible for it?

I forgot to remember,
I remembered to have forgot.

You know the crazy thing about clocks?
Well, eventually,
They all stop ticking.
Like a sun dial,
The gnomon stops
Without light to make shadows.
But the funny thing is,
Time goes on.
Time is a constant.

I remember to forget,
I forget in remembrance.

Is Time despondent?
Is Time ebullient?

Memory. What's it mean to me?
Thoughts. What's it mean to be?

Is Time periodic?
Is Time cyclical?

What I remember
Is all; that I haven't forgetten.

If Time had a name,
They were called Kronos.
If Time has a title,
It is the Ouroboros.

What I forget
Is nothing; that I haven't remembered.

I remember in forgettance.
I forget to have forgot.

For to rest in the gymnasium
Is to watch others wrestle.
There is no pendulum
Which is not but itself a pebble.

I am the gnomon.

For all are free
And each person is their own mason.
From the block of marble we chisel
Out who are ourselves.

"How?" I am asked.

Tax. Incremental siphoning.
"Service changes"

"Greedy!" I am accused.

Relax. Manufactured crash.
"Bad economy."

"Incompetent!" It is exclaimed I am.

Facts. Distort reality.
"Fake or foreign elements."

"Fascist!" It is said of me.

Craps. Gambled living.
"Sweating like a ***** in church."

"Pig!" I am called.

Animals. **** philosophy.
"Your life should be in service."

"Dictator!" It is written of me.

Preach. Misinterpret history.
"And God rested on the seventh day."

"Monster!" It is all that's left of me.

Kingly. Total war.
"On the first day, God said,"

Delineations on wisdom
Can be but delineations of ignorance!

Delineations of wisdom
Can be but disfigurations by the ignorant!

Is there a difference?

There is a difference!

Fission, fusion.
Derision after derision.
Creation, destruction.
Degredation after degredation.
Combination, seperation.
Decay after decay.

Fusion, fission.
Praise after praise.
Destruction, creation.
Amelioration after amelioration.
Splitting, collaboration.
Growth after growth.

I know only
That I know nothing!

You see,
The first evidence we have
Of anything we could quantify
As being akin to surgery
Are fossil records
Of skulls baring marks
Which indicate tool usage.
These marks from simple holes
Driven into these skulls,
Likely made to try & deal with the mind
Or some ailment of the brain.
Thoughts, "evil spirits."

But, one must ask,
"From where did they get these ideas?"

The woodpecker?
The first surgeon?

Words!
They're something we nearly
All can say,
They're something we share!

Thoughts!
They're something we can all say,
At least nearly;
Every living thing has them!

I think?

I think.

Some universal common ancestor,
Some roots we all share.
That's how it is, right?
**** some connection
To the natural world around us,
**** the universe.
It's in the symbolism of it,
It's by the reality of it.
What can one say?

We do what we can with what we're given.

I don't know about that,
But whatever brings comfort.

Some find comfort inside caskets;
Some in the idea of the end of it,
Some on the idea of a new beginning.

Some find comfort outside in nature;
Some in the idea of being a part of it,
Some on the idea of being apart from it.

It's recognizing you are already seperate,
Yet still totally together with it.

We're mammals;
Walking, talking, thinking.
We're animals.
Upright, articulable, sophisticated.

Yet, we pay little respect,
Fret more then reflect;
For an ancestor we all share
And yet share more in neglect!

What long ways to have come
To have gone so little distance;
To be ever farther than before,
But to have done really so very little!

I talk about our planet!
I talk about all those who inhabit!
It's a rotten mess that's been made.
Each blemish, every scar, all the stains
Marked & soaked into each & every page!

Many great recessions & regressions,
Degradations & destructions-
That's what we offer everything.
But I digress from the apathy,
For it is better thought to think of change.

What beauty nature must have been,
Even understanding the difficulty
Of life prior to our modernity.
Years & years ago, hundreds & thousands,
When natural life was more abundant.

"When we were slaves to nature!"
"When all was bountiful & liberated!"
"When we were aching & starving!"
"When all was free & meritable!"

It's all perspective,
But are they all really mutually exclusive?
Like the popular philosophies of a moment
Fluctuating with the pass of time.

From good to bad,
Like stored food going spoiled.
From growth to decay,
Like rust on metal forming.

Yet, it's just change.
Yet, those are just oddities.
Everyday examples
Because of our lifestyles.

Those things exhibited being indicative
Of perspective on the nature of "change."
Good, bad.
It's by an individual basis.

Balance between any individual & its environment
Is essential for that individual to maintain.
At the same time, being a product of its environment,
To what magnitude, if any, does any individual actually have a responsibility to?

It's by an individual basis?
But every species is a part of,
In one way or another,
A collective of that species.
Their effects, how they affect,
Can be counted cumulative.

But it all sure is beautiful.

You can't control crazy, eh?
Only mitigate it.
You can't control sanity, eh?
Only define it.

A question like:
"Who's been listening!?"
A question like:
"To whom have you been listening?!"

So far as I see things today,
You cannot have a policy
Centered on ambiguity
And expect people
To take you at your word!
Even take you as being serious!

Seriously, you guys! Seriously!
There's a monster on the way!
To borrow from an absurdist, comedic series.

Yet, the point was lost anyways!

And so we all do this thing
Of using what one has said
Against who themselves said it.
Is it rejection? Deflection?
Is it acceptance? Confrontation?
It's about how we choose to take it,
Not how another interprets it.
Right?

My honest opinion on hate?
Love it!
Smother it with compassion!
Being blindingly gentle
And barbarically kind!

I heard a wise man saying,
"I wouldn't just abandon a friend
Simply because they were going through
Some strange parasocial moment.
Although, I will admit
That I may not fully understand it.
That I might not be able
To fully appreciate their perception
Of whatever given situation."

For, you see,
We can only truly speak
On that of our perspectives.

Oh right. I forgot.
There's actually ******* out there
Who are serious
About their homophobia.
About hate of
Consenual relations
Between any grown individuals
Which doesn't conform
To their perspective of love.
Righteous love.
Fanatic heterosexuals.
Ay, I can't knock women.
Obviously,
There's so much more
To loving a partner.
So much more
To a loving partner.
The life you build together,
What you do with it.
But let's hone in
On dictating individuality
And harming individual rights.

Oh right. I forgot.
There's this thing
Called the constitution.
Oh right. I forgot.
There's these things
Called amendments.

Silly me,
I guess I was on
A personal "freak."
Silly me,
I guess I waged
A personal "streak."

Oh right. I forgot.
There's this thing
Called proper interpretation.
Oh right. I forgot.
There's these things
Called existing judgements.

Ah, ****!
I guess I'm against
State & church seperation.
Ah, shucks!
I guess I'm for
Totalitarian fascism.

It's only bi-sexuality,
Who gives a ****?
It's consensual sexuality
Between loving partners.
It ***** being on the cusp
Of any one lean,
But so much worse
Being truly in-between.
It's not indecision,
Not confusion.
That's what's so perplexing
To any outside party.
Not that
It's any easier internally.
For I understand myself
And am comfortable with me,
But it's
Just the nature of society.
Nature of our philosophies,
Nature of our identities.

I'm just a product of nature.

We're all
Royal plains for an ***.
We're all
Noble springs *******.

I'm just a lover of nature.

If I seem to be having a laugh,
That's not a point you're missing.
But if you can't sense the sadness
It's cause they're kissing.

You worry about the harm one could do?
I'm worried about the harm being done.

You're worried to offer an inch?
I tell you, grab a hold of my arm!

Now, if I have a good idea
Or something that would be beneficial,
Does this mean I am required to share it?
That you are deserving of it
Regardless of my judgements?

If I see you about to do something wrong
Or that I am sure of will be a mistake,
Does that mean I am required to help you?
That you are worthy of it
Regardless of my verdicts?

And so we're all familiar with those;
Autocracy, atrocity, fascism.
Whatever forms those take
And whatever names given contemporarily.
However masked in any moment.
Yet, here they still happen!
Yet, they still now occur!
It's almost as though
This species really doesn't learn!

Ah, yes. Holocaust. Genocide. Yes. Pagans are familiar with that. Just not in the way that you think.

Ah, yes. Holocaust. Genocide. Yes. Abrahamics are familiar with that. Just not in the way that you think.

I've got an inquisition I've put together! We've got to exercise! Burn all these things! For surely they contain evil spirits! For why else would someone think differently from me?

No! Hogwash. Darwin? You must be mad, man! For surely you don't also contest that the Earth is the center of all of the heavens! If we're not special, why else do we exist as we exist?

Do you believe more in the imperfect or the perfect? Do you assign more value to the material or the immaterial? Is there correlation between those two? There is an obvious relation comparatively within each question. For they could be graphed on a spectrum, if one were able to conceive of that. But what is "perfect?" But what is "immaterial?" For I may find the perfections in the imperfect. For I may reach and could touch the immaterial.

No! Some council several hundred years ago settled this! No! I don't know & I don't need to know who attended. Don't need to understand that moment's political atmosphere. The motivations and intentions of those who participated. I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship! I just need to worship!
I just need...

It's actually a pretty simple formula.
You inquire about
All the folk & mythology
Of any given area.
Investigate the philosophy
Inherent or lacking of each.
As a whole
And by each parable.
Reduce the content
To a "digestible" format.
Substitute words or phrases
Which do not conform
To the rest of the tapestry.

And the first to sew
Did so to sow¹,
Not to make sows².

A condensed collection of the known world's beliefs!

That is,
They wanted things to grow.
To fruit rather than in snout style.

Silk, amber, jade, spice, salt,
Tea, tin, & royal.

Those routes we did the walk
And therein had good talks!

It's been completely butchered beyond recognition!

I thought afar, yet never wandered.
Always saw that what I never watched.

For the distant blaze, I brought forth the horizon.
But, the landscapes turned to patchwork swatches all at once.

By Speare you drove your votives,
That which was a work of prose.
By reality, it was as an artist's pose
On a good kind of love.

For a lover is a writer,
Whether with ink & quill
Or lead & wood cylindrical.
For a lover is a writer,
Whether with chisel & stone
Or dynamite & the mountains.

Whether they write in constellations
Or draw in the sand on the beach,
Time it will take us.

For time, it shall take us.

But, in time,
Will there be that which is loving?

What say the scars unseen?

The deep peaks & valleys cut?
That which you etch
Without ever touching it?

Hare?

Is it stuck up?

Tired of reality?
You just hope
You wake up in a dream.
Do you know you risk a nightmare?
The mind hatches awful plans,
Sets up terribly dreadful schemes.
What's it all mean?
I don't know?
Maybe?
Do you know?

And this is how it ends!
And this is how it begins!

It's all alphabetical,
All numerical.
Can you hear the song,
Read in-between the lyrics?
The structure of its wording?
Have you tried at singing?

Is it all spiraling?

Chelone?

It was silk that was choked on,
It was wind which was blowing.
For the fly never is caught
Until the act of consumption!
Yet, if by consumption,
Is the spider itself conditioned?
What few arachnids shall spin no web,
Like few snakes whom have no venom.
Defanged or deglanded,
I suppose only fools make distinction
Between either of them.
Yet, if by the action,
Is the hand itself also conditioned?

Don't search for me for where I am,
I'm not searching for where you are.

To that which you "belong."

Don't look for me to the future,
For I learned your histories & they are repulsive.

The records are detailed & long.

Don't give no magnification on my past,
For I have the details of your future.

Wrong is just wrong!

"This is the compassion I'm willing to give!"

This is the compassion you're liable to get.

Silence. Stillness. Absence.

Love is always so fickle,
Itself only as strong as our commitments.

Oftentimes, we seek a level
Which is non-commiserate
To that which we offer.

We often feel ourselves
To be what's most important.
Pushing & pushing.

Until that day
In which the push is away.
Distance becomes
Only that which we are close with.

You couldn't tell if I was crazy
If you were even any sane!
And you're not.
You couldn't tell if I was sane
If you weren't any crazier!
But you are!

Does it hurt your head to think?
Why, let it stop!
Does it hurt your chest to breathe?
Why, just quit it!

Soemone else can do that for you,
You can just take the credit!
For if the heart should ache
You're better off without it!

But serious-
The cloud tells the rain
What is & is not water.
Do the falling droplets care?
"What are these foreign definitions?"

The destination is the same,
Their own priorities remain,
And perspective is unchanged.

These strange properties,
Words themselves as elements
When strung together by sentence.
Is repentance within a reflection?
Redemption by sight through a drop of liquid?

What grippings within these pensions,
What potential within these tensions,
What whippings within these conventions.

By the accounts of every party attended,
What stern material has been cobbled.
Yet, poverty is worn stronger.
That which itself is as the weather,
I think it closer to trinkles
Than shine & twinkle.

What do the poor pour?
What do the bums toast?
What do the homeless shower?

A buddy of mine
Left really only notes.
Another was a rotten cheater.
I knew one that liked to play with guys,
Knew one that liked masks & needles.
Comes what? What goes? Who knows.

It can't be worse than before,
But that's not something you remember.
Of course, I mean, not someone you know.

Golly, fellas!
Gee, ladies!
These folks.
Am I right, person(s)?

They say it's no fair!

Hey, if you didn't already know it-
I'm hoping you get the best.
Usually, that's by lesson.
And, wouldn't you know it,
You're quite the students!
I just noticed you were struggling learning.
So, I reduced it down to the basics!
You've just got to get to studying.
Of course, not that it's always obvious,
What field even peaks your interest?

Perhaps it's walking.
Perhaps it's gawking.
Perhaps it's trying.

But to what do they compare?

Perhaps it's sensation.
Perhaps it's thinking.

But who's to say
What that even corresponds to?
Who's to say
What those even correspond to?

The only you with say
Is the same to make the decision.
What I mean is;
A lot of things are going to get in your way,
Don't be your own obstacle.

Look, I smashed them all together!
Look, I tore it all to tatters!
Look, I sewed it all back together!

Look, I wasn't familiar with the formula.
Look, I didn't understand the directions.
Look, I lost the thread all connecting.

Look, look!

"Great!" They said.

"So I'll be you, and you be me?"

"Correct!"

"And you'll be them, and they'll be you?"

"Accurate!"

And so they all swapped their devices,
All took each other's names/profiles,
Saying nothing of what they were actually doing!

"So who will I even be talking to?"

"Don't worry, you'll know it!"

"But how will I understand it as them?"

"Wouldn't you know if you didn't?"

"But what of these truths?" Asked Plato of Socrates.

"But what is truth in purest essence?
For what of the material is purely true?
Yet, by the very nature of the immaterial,
What may we ever quantifiably call truth which we ourselves have no alternative way of examining?
In going so far as to ask for an answer, you must already have proof.
What proof is there that there is truth?"
Spoke Socrates.

"Mentor, you ramble."
Spoke Plato.

"Pupil, I rumble!"
Spoke Socrates.

Meal's on you, ace.
Meals of you, ace.
As just but a deck of cards
Among tables of strung-out gamblers;
What's blackjack to a game of craps?
Suppose it's a matter
Of the rules of the sitting chaps,
Though I've never seen drunks wetter.
It's innumerable cards of the same face,
For each is but another portrait of indifference.
It's innumerable dealers of the same things,
For each is closer in similarity than farther in dissension.

To love to play
Is not the same as a play of love.

Yet, to make life a game
Is not the same as the "game" of life itself.

Love & love not,
Live and not to love;
Death should be better
Were I read the letter
Of forget our stitched knots.

Live & live not,
Love and not to live;
Life could be no worse
Than in longing for that
Which itself draws no breath.