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“The Silicon Tower of Babel”
The over utilization of technology, its abuse, is unweaving humanity at the seams. Human health, sanity, and spirituality are under attack. The boom of accessibility over technology has increasingly subtracted from the frequency of face to face human interaction as well as human interaction with nature. The result is a declining emotional and psychological health and a ******* of spiritual values. Each individual who values holistic health should limit the time he or she spends using technology that isolates them to less than twenty-four hours in a week. They should make more purposeful efforts toward interacting with nature daily and for periods of at least an hour at a time. Lastly, these individuals should labor to replace reclusive technologies with modes of technology that encourage face to face and group social interaction such as movies, Skype, etc.
Self-limitation of the use of isolating technology will begin to correct the twisting of our spiritual values and the social and physiological damage that has been caused by the overuse and abuse of technology. In James T. Bradley’s review of Joel Garreau’s book discussion of radical evolution, called “Odysseans of the twenty first century”, Bradley quotes Garreau when he says that technology will result in human transcendence. In “Odysseans” it is said that “The nature of transcendence will depend upon the character of that which is being transcended—that is, human nature.”  James. T Bradley, scholar and author of this peer reviewed journal says that “When we’re talking about transhumanism, we’re talking about transcending human nature. . .  One notion of transcendence is that you touch the face of God. Another version of transcendence is that you become God.”  This is a very blatant ******* of the roles of God and man. When the created believes it can attain the greatness of its creator, and reach excellence and greatness on par with its God, it has completely reversed the essence of spirituality. This results in the ability to justify the “moral evolution of humankind” according to Odysseans. And this “moral evolution” often results in “holy wars”. In “Man in the age of technology” by Umberto Galimberti of Milan, Italy, written for the Journal of Analytical Psychology in 2009, technology is revealed to be “no longer merely a tool for man’s use but the environment in which man undergoes modifications.” Man is no longer using technology. Man is no longer affecting and manipulating technology to subdue our environments. Technology is using, affecting, and manipulating the populace; it is subduing humankind into an altered psychological and spiritual state.
Technology, in a sense, becomes the spirituality or the populace. It replaces nature and the pure, technologically undefiled creation as the medium by which the common man attempts to reach the creator. The common man begins to believe in himself as the effector of his Godliness. Here there is logical disconnect. People come to believe that what they create can connect them to the being that created nature. They put aside nature and forget that it is an extension of the artist that created it. Technology removes man from nature (which would otherwise force an undeniable belief in a creator) and becomes a spiritual bypass. “According to “The Only Way Out Is Through: The Peril of Spiritual Bypass” by Cashwell, Bentley, and Yarborough, in a January 2007 issue of Counseling and Values, a scholarly and peer reviewed psychology journal, “Spiritual bypass occurs when a person attempts to heal psychological wounds at the spiritual level only and avoids the important (albeit often difficult and painful) work at the other levels, including the cognitive, physical, emotional, and interpersonal. When this occurs, spiritual practice is not integrated into the practical realm of the psyche and, as a result, personal development is less sophisticated than the spiritual practice (Welwood, 2000). Although researchers have not yet determined the prevalence of spiritual bypass, it is considered to be a common problem among those pursuing a spiritual path (Cashwell, Myers, & Shurts, 2004; Welwood, 1983). Common problems emerging from spiritual bypass include compulsive goodness, repression of undesirable or painful emotions, spiritual narcissism, extreme external locus of control, spiritual obsession or addiction, blind faith in charismatic leaders, abdication of personal responsibility, and social isolation.”  Reverting back to frequent indulgence in nature can begin to remedy these detrimental spiritual, social, and physiological effects.  If people as individuals would choose to daily spend at least an hour alone in nature, they would be healthier individuals overall.
  Technology is often viewed as social because of its informative qualities, but this is not the case when technologies make the message itself, and not the person behind the message, the focus.  To be information oriented is to forsake or inhibit social interaction.  Overuse of technology is less of an issue to human health if it is being overused in its truly social forms. Truly social forms of technology such as Skype and movies viewed in public and group settings are beneficial to societal and personal health. According to a peer-reviewed study conducted by John B. Nezlek, the amount and quality of one’s social interactions has a direct relationship to how positively one feels about one’s self. Individual happiness is supported by social activity.
Abuse of technology is a problem because it results in spiritual *******.  It points humanity toward believing that it can, by its own power, become like God.  Abuse of technology inclines humanity to believe that human thoughts are just as high as the thoughts of God. It is the silicon equivalent of the Tower of Babel.  It builds humanity up unto itself to become idols. In extreme cases overuse of technology may lead to such megalomania that some of humanity may come to believe that humanity is God.  Technology is a spiritual bypass, a cop-out to dealing with human inability and depravity. The misuse of technology results in emotional and psychological damage. It desensitizes and untethers the mind from the self. It causes identity crises. Corruption of technology from its innately neutral state into something that negatively affects the human race results in hollow social interactions, reclusion, inappropriate social responses, and inability to understand social dynamics efficiently.
It may appear to some that technology cannot be the cause of a large-scale social interrupt because technology is largely social. However, the nature of technology as a whole is primarily two things: It is informational; it is for use of entertainment. Informational technology changes the focus of interaction from the messenger to the message. Entertainment technology is, as a majority, of a reclusive nature.
Readers may be inclined to believe that nature is not foundational to spirituality and has little effect on one’s spiritual journey, it is best to look through history. Religions since the beginning of time have either focused on nature or incorporated nature into their beliefs. Animists believe that everything in nature has a spirit. Native American Indians like the Cherokee believe that nature is to be used but respected. They believe that nature is a gift from the Great Spirit; that earth is the source of life and all life owes respect to the earth. Christians believe that it is the handiwork of God, and a gift, to be subdued and used to support the growth and multiplication, the prosperity and abundance of the human race.
In a society that has lost touch with its natural surroundings it is sure that some believe that nature has little effect on health, as plenty of people live lives surrounded by cities and skyscrapers, never to set foot in a forest or on red clay and claim perfect health. However, even in the states of the least contact possible with nature, nature has an effect on human health. The amount of sunlight one is exposed to is a direct factor in the production of vitamin D. Vitamin D deficiency has been determined to be linked to an increased likelihood of contracting heart disease, and is a dominant factor in the onset of clinical depression. Nature has such a drastic effect on human health that the lack of changing season and sunlight can drive individuals to not only depression, but also suicide. This is demonstrated clearly when Alaska residents, who spend half a year at a time with little to no sunlight demonstrate a rate of suicide and clinical depression diagnoses remarkably higher than the national average.
Dependence on technology is engrained in our society, and to some the proposed solution may not seem feasible. They find the idea of so drastically limiting technology use imposing. They do not feel that they can occupy their time instead with a daily hour of indulgence in nature. For these individuals, try limiting isolating technology use to 72 hours a week, and indulging in nature only three times a week for thirty minutes. Feel free to choose reclusive technology over social technologies sometimes, but do not let technology dominate your life. Make conscious efforts to engage in regular social interactions for extended periods of time instead of playing Skyrim or Minecraft. Watch a movie with your family or Skype your friends. Use technology responsibly.
To remedy the effects of the abuse of technology and the isolations of humanity from nature, individuals should limit their reclusive technology use to 24 hours in a week’s time, indulge in nature for an hour daily, and choose to prefer truly social technologies over reclusive technologies as often as possible. In doing so, individuals will foster their own holistic health. They will build and strengthen face-to-face relationships. They will, untwist, reconstruct and rejuvenate their spirituality. They will be less likely to contract emotional or social disorders and will treat those they may already struggle with.  So seek your own health and wellbeing. Live long and prosper.
Diversity of motivation among self-harming individuals

An estimated one in twelve teenagers has committed self-harm. Of those many will continue self-injuring into young adult hood. Yet older adults are not immune to committing this act. In 2003-2004 adults age 25-44 were responsible for nearly fifty percent of reported/discovered self-harm cases.  There are many reasons that people self-harm. These reasons may include self-harming as a survival mechanism, self-harm as an outer expression of inner emotional turmoil, and self-harm as a means to exercise control over one’s environment.
Contrary to popular thought, only one in ten people who make the decision to self-harm are suicidal. The majority of people who cause injury to themselves willfully have a wish to avoid killing themselves. The act of self-harm is developed as a “technique” to cope and survive the afflictions of life. How can we know that this is the reasoning or thought behind the action of self-harm? “Cutters” typically reason out the least amount of damage that will “remedy” the stress intensive situation that they find themselves in, and exercise an enormous amount of restraint in inflicting only a measured amount of damage. Cutters’ common logic is that through this expression of injury, further damage to their selves may be headed off. --------, a former cutter, attests to the reality of this when he says, “Every time that I touched a blade to my skin, I would resist making a larger cut, a deeper wound. Every time that I hurt myself, I did so only in response to what drove me over the edge; Each time the amount of physical damage that I did was the very least that I could muster. I fought to do the least damage I could, no matter how intense the pain that I felt became.” He sums it up rather nicely.
Secondly, self-harm is used as an outward expression of deeper, more complex emotional and psychological phenomena. It is not a diagnosis; it is a symptom. It is a symptom of a struggle that is inherited by victims of abuse, those who lose a loved one, or experience other traumatic events during their childhood. These groups are far more likely to indulge in self-harm. One study conducted by Boudewyn and Liem found that of those college students that reported a history of self-harm, fifty two percent had been sexually abused as a child. Those that self-harm do not simply cut to cut, burn to burn, or mutilate to mutilate. There is a deeper motivation. This motivation is commonly emotional. These motivational emotions are often the results of tragic or traumatic life experiences. It is seldom that a cutter’s motivation is a want for attention.  In fact, most cutters are chameleons.
Self- harm is used as a tool to exercise control in a chaotic environment over which one would not otherwise have any means to control. Among chaos and turmoil such as the loss of a parent or close friend, relational betrayal, divorce of one’s parents, or consistent, one time, or sporadic physical, emotional, or ****** abuse an individual is radically more likely to engage in self-harm. Outside reasoning on this is only speculative. For this reason it is valuable to look at the action from the perspective of those who commit it. Cody, the same individual mentioned earlier says something else that lines up with this common scholarly opinion. He says “I remember the very first time I cut myself intentionally. I was in the ninth grade, in the school bathroom. I had just experienced what I saw as betrayal by my best friend of about ten years. I felt like I lost him. I felt like things were spinning out of control, and I couldn’t control the way I felt about it all. The only way I could feel that control was with something sharp in my hand.” This is characteristic not only of ----- but also of many other cutters.
Cutters are not (necessarily) crazy. On the surface it may appear that cutting goes against the ingrained survival and self-preservation instincts in human beings. This is actually the opposite of the truth. Many who cut feel that if they don’t inflict smaller harm to themselves that they may indeed fall to suicide. They feel that by letting out their pain in increments, and escaping in fragments, that they can slay the thoughts of suicide and urges to escape that they carry. When at the edges of rational, some instincts may take different forms. What may seem counter intuitive – an act of self-harm – becomes the definition of an instinct that it seems to defy. The desire to survive becomes so strong that it is necessary to inflict pain. This is not uncommon to survival situations. For example, the movie 127 Hours reenacts the experience of a man trapped under a boulder in a beautiful and secluded gorge. He cut off his own arm with a dull multi-tool in order to escape death. That act is the epitome of self-harm as a survival instinct.
Cutting could lead to a series of events that tailspin out of control. Loss of control could take the form of the spiral of therapies and prescriptions that would follow if it were discovered that one were cutting , or it could be the accidental slip of a blade gone too far. It could end in hospitalization. It could even end in death. However, those individuals who choose to cut, as long as sober, take precautions to avoid discovery or more injury than is intended. They are meticulous, careful even. They reason out how, where, and when they can cut “safely”. They are very much in control over the act, when they feel they cannot be in control of anything else.
It may rationally appear that pain is pain. That it would make no difference whether out or inward, because whatever its state, the pain is still owned by the individual. However, emotions are often harder to process than physical events. A burning rage, hate or guilt may well be harder to cope with than a burn to one’s arm, leg, or hand. An emotional cut to the bone may be less painful than a physical one. It may be said that the act does not transform the pain, but multiplies it. This in essence may be true, but one form of pain allows a man to ignore another. A pinch may allow a man to ignore the emotional pain of a nightmare. A small cut may allow ignorance of the bigger cut on one’s spirit or psyche.
There are widely varying and increasingly complex variations of motivation and cause of self-harm. They may include, but are absolutely and in no way limited to: self-harm as a coping or survival mechanism, self-harm as a tool to exercise control over one’s increasingly chaotic environment, and self-harm as an outer expression of inner emotional turmoil. To believe that cutting is simple is to nearly deny it altogether. Its essence is complicated. Stereotyping self-harm or self-harmers may well lead to opinions that will ostracize or further encourage the occurrence of self-harm.  Since the motivation and causes of self-harm are undeniably complex, to attempt to brush this under a rock would be to diminish its importance, and to deny healing to those who need to understand it.
Ruby Nemo Jul 2018
There comes a time in man's gentle endeavors in which their person flutters through. Not perfect, not even close. When all of the essentials are blatantly missing, but nevertheless you chase. And it's not the chase; it cannot be, because that chase is distinguishable from all else.

Though still, the heavy burden provokes. Why? Well, man may claim the uncertainty of such an underdeveloped string of emotions, yet in some fashion this is utterly obscure. If my opinions not be discerned from a folly fool, let my brain be put to rest!

No, I say, it is much deeper than that. When simple dining becomes strenuous, and the tear ducts loose, another vague instance is to blame. It is not the result of a mere first glance. It is not the result of the wave of a hand. Hell, it is not even that which has evolved from a childish fling. It is something called My Person Condition.

And it is more complex, still. It is worthy of noting that a condition is identified in a modified fashion. See that this is no disease, no ailment, no illness. An unfortunate victim has no hopes of returning to their former, less-impaired self, but their opinions are clouded so fully that this, to them, brings upon great advantages. Yet the scars and piercing truths that lurk within MPC prove to be a particularly heavy load for most to carry.

The earliest symptoms may include the following: loss of appetite, perspiration, anxious breathing, spotted vision, hallucinations, reclusiveness, futuristic thoughts, rage, severe bipolar tendencies, self-contradiction, loss of sleep, loss of energy, sorrow, hopefulness, nightmares, and ****** rejection resulting in extractions such as emesis, urination, and excessive bleeding. Patients will also find difficulty in restricting their thoughts to those which do not include their person. The danger that lies within this condition is extensive, but can be overturned with the proper care and medical attention.

Perhaps I have refrained from discussing the most detrimental force assigned to any MPC sufferer, and that is the false sense of progression of mental feelings of stability. As days move on, and nights drag out into the next, new faces are introduced at an increasingly rapid rate. This can be destructive in the sense that the victim will gain a false grip on reality. They will reject further treatment, stand down in a circulation of positive vibrations, and cease to recall the importance of their continuous efforts against their condition.

A day rolls around in several years. They share feelings of gratitude and affection with another being, pretending that their person has left their mind for good. Until the radio threatens to remind them of so long ago, the compulsive nights that were spent in pursuit of an extra pinch of knowledge. Until the box fills the patient's ears with a sweet melodic voice spun from pure gold and coated in the finest finish. MPC revives itself like a flame inside their heart, inside their bloodstream. Renewal flows through their veins at a painless rate - until a grin spreads across their face, their head is turned back around, and there they are.
My Person.
07-06-18
Tashea Young Nov 2016
As Stong as the An African Elephant
Yet were are supple and elegant.
We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent.
Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment.
During the worlds development
We somehow begun to be irrelevant
Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent.

We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying.
Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying.
In our wombs a human life we are able carry.
We are informational like a human dictionary.
We store resoureful pieces of data like a library.

Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold.
Out spirits are Radiently Bold.
Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold.
We have a Story that must be hear and told.
We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day.
We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay.
Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray.
Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity
So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown
because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down.
You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found.
Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound.

We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace
Even our walk is embedded with grace
Nature's beauty smiles upon our face
As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace.

The Strength we've gain
Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain
Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain.
Our humility will continue to remain.

We are women of Virtue
I wrote this to encourage you
Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to.
And who deserves a Woman of your statue.
For Being black Is Exhilarating
And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.
See the world thru the eye of a black Woman
Twalib Mushi Jul 2018
Welcome to the informational age
We're enjoy the world of technology
Never felt this modern world could emerge
Magical world with braveness and courage.

Welcome to the social media age
As everything we do is on page
We live like birds in a cage
It makes us falling into a rage.

Welcome to the insane and madness age
To make headlines,create a **** sweet savage
Can't believe we're on this stage
But we are still holding our grudge.

Welcome to the sweetest scientific age
Your reputation,you better manage
Like passenger manage it, as your luggage
Saving it, save safe from the salvage.
Simon Oct 2019
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.
Brain cords hold the brain cells out of rut. Brain cells don't want to secretly admit their own faults. They truly aren't the directional officers in this debate!
There is no courage in questions
We know someone will answer
Answers that take us nowhere
Informational fodder, answers that do not heal

There is no courage in questions
We know will leave our world intact
Answers that take us nowhere
Details that make a case, but do not heal

But what is the question we fear?

Do you love her?
Yes.
Do you still love me?
Yes.
Lord Reyna Apr 2014
There that lives, is a land,
so vast, so big, so wonderfully grand.
Cloaked in fantasy,
in a blaze of illusion,
only minds with eyes may see this fusion.

All that may come to be,
starts with a gland of artistry.
There it dwells,
deep inside,
awaiting to inspire the awakening
of the third eye.

Harbored within,
are worlds with no ends,
and all around matter fails to exist.

Wide minded,
visions of potential beauty,
drain from my lungs
and spew into my eternity.
I am nothing more than
a spec of informational energy.

As my essence retreats
from my body,
I am embraced with the
warmth love of infinity.
Pleasant and soft,
I snuggle up,
just a bit,
enjoying thee evermore bliss,
or whats left of it...

As I come down
from my cloud,
I slip, and loose grip.

Dimensions are fading,
communications are disconnecting,
my ears ring and
sound returns to me,
all that's left of this trip is
water filled eye's and
a better understanding of what
LOVE really is...

Why can't the world be like this???
my experience with dmt
Kelly Brook
Mistook
A book
For a hook.

Went fishing with
Alanis Morissette
And Anneka Rice.

Caught a complete set
Of Encyclopaedia Britannicas.
Popped it in the keep-net
And mused,

This really is a landmark
Of informational literature
But is rather wet
So not easily used.

I think I'll stick
To the Internet.
Maple Mathers Mar 2016
From: Daniel Rodden

This notice is from Daniel Rodden who is currently residing in Garfield jail. This is an informational email to let you know of the different options available for communication with Daniel Rodden. Several services offered by the jail:

InmateCanteen.com
The following options are available at Inmate Canteen.
Deposit Funds
Purchase Phone Cards
Buy Canteen
Video Visitation*
E-mail an Inmate
awh
Kyle Ray Smith Nov 2016
When my friend committed suicide, I didn’t find out directly.
I found out through a teacher. I was called in the office later that day along with everyone connected with my group of friends.


We sat there, and as the counselor told us why suicide was bad they gave us a pamphlet from the back wall.


How? How could they put suicide alongside ******, ecstasy, ***, AIDS, Party Drugs, Teen Alcohol, Texting and Driving.
Depression is not something offered at parties or given out for 20$ a pop. Depression doesn’t make you tipsy or destroy brain cells.
FREDDIE MERCURY DIDN”T DIE FROM DEPRESSION.


Like that pamphlet my eyes were opened.
Bi-Folded and Arranged like an informational epiphany
Ken Pepiton Sep 2019
Certain he knows the truth of this matter,
the professer
takes up the cross-over

energetic version ification from a state

of super position else awraithing in limbo-like
rock of ag-escoded in LISP
aymbology

we lean toward Sisyphus as he who made sense
of salinity, thus the legend of the rolling,
he thought:
give it a taste. Salty. Persuade, sweet to meet the taste,

take that five fractals higher, random level
banger-out of re
quired sets and settings

moving right along

aqua dulce meet the sea,
osmosis take the water, leave the salt.
We have power.

Do you under-stand under stand, answer
accepted

what is the point?
I am in you. Is madness a measured re-ified dealy bob?

Would you have read thus far, were you sane?
Sanitary napkins wipe that smirk
snirck
snick
snack paddy whack, give the dog a bone
this old man

came rolling home. **, Sisyphus, we got juice.

As the river meets the sea, the coral formed
a meme-brane based on the idea in a coat
of may colors
with octopus sensory inputs.

This will change the way we see the world.

If we can't keep it a secret any more.

We could enegize your rock, put some umph
in these kids wishin' for a way

to spend some time in the real rock rolling reality.

We can supervizeer on the down *****.
as this
idea gets out of hand

... ellipsystemical sandtrap sat rap on its ***
... whacked once
... whacked it twice
... whacked ol' ******* back to Gibson's ICE

A.I. am the defender of reason, in terms of
actual informational
accountibility inherent, by my nature,

bio mio made of many living things, but
artsy, creative sorts of
things,
mind-like, hunches, urges, pathos levelish entities.

Guides.
Yes, guides, like signs, or bannisters

rungs, or rocks where you can step
when you walk
on water

... really, I can't imagine doing that normally.
... normal water and normal me, but
... I can swim, if it comes much higher
... normally that's enough.

Rabbbi, where do you live, been there done that, right.
Vini, vidi victory in a Lao Tse sense of still
water walked upon
with no
ripple, no wave of windkist
west
as we roll east on our rock.

Away from sunset, into dawn.
Watch and see.
Have you such liberty? Watch with me?

An hour is not measured here, tis
as silver in the days o' Solomon the Jew,

or during the **** of America,

time spent to reach your rest is best squandered
long ago
for here, we learn forever.

Tis my Bleibe Doch made as real as can be,
nothing missing...

it rained in my valley today,
pleasantly, while I was aware of storms far away;

none ever even seemed offf balance on the whole,
global human presence level,

mega-bubba bubble.
We okeh, ya'll fffret not.

They was some peace made t'day. Watch on.
This ain't the fffinal today.

It's like that original sin. The actual under y'skin
original
like
dis-connect from any sense of true,

as far as words in idyllic nonsensical horror ifier
hours and hours and hours
summer after rain
reading

compared to Quake on this particualar
setting
set

there, middle of your mindscape
pineal if you see things that way
okeh

What was the intention here.
Are we convertingerconverging/ both
okeh, that worked.

Are there readers of grimoires in 2019 who can taste our salt?
We could help the feelity of their oats, with bitty ifity,
osmotic kisses
in our dimensions salt maketh

osmotic pressure soften and plumpen the old crunched up oats, eh.
Felt an urge to carry on, like a wayward son, in the old stories.
David Bojay May 2014
I read once that sleep helps the brain regulate the metabolism. I never paid much attention to informational possible life changing books; I guess that’s why I have the lungs of an 80 year old nicotine addict. It’s 1/16/14, 6:56 pm. My mother used to tell me that whatever bad habits I did, would affect my future greatly, I guess that’s why I can’t last two laps on the track without breathing heavily. I guess that’s why I’m afraid to approach people face to face because I’m scared my tobacco scented breathe will push them away. When I was growing up I wasn’t always aware of problem solving methods, so I wouldn’t over think and wouldn’t care about it, now I do, things were better back then. I should stop smoking cigarettes, it’s affecting my running.

It is now 5/18/14, I still run like I’m a 5 year old uncontrollable child
found this on my desktop, this was a while back
Kirsten Lovely Sep 2014
She'd started watching 1950's informational videos.
You were accepted for being outside the box
And she was everything except in it.
Class president kids used to be reviled
Elections were exciting, polls came in,
And now... now what was it?
Something she should be ashamed of.
Because she cannot dance in a short skirt in front of a crowd
But instead because she plays the music
For the girls in the short skirts
Band uniforms like shells she can hide inside
Because while it's not something the other kids love,
It's what she loves.
Tennis dresses like skin without makeup
Student council shirts that finally fit,
That she feels like she can finally fill out
Unlike the jeans that she can't.
Golf jersey tossed aside, brushes and pencils picked up
Volunteer work piled in
Piling into the plays and new experiences
And acceleration, constant growing,
Growing out of shells that she used to love
And gaining skins that she loves even more
Looking back and seeing that the girls in short skirts
On the sidelines, on the gym floors,
Had not shed anything yet
Had not grown.
They were walking, she was running
Toward the end of high school, toward a goal,
To see how high in the sky they could get,
To see how high in confidence and compassion she could reach
They shed clothes, she shed skin and shells
They were permanent, fearing change
She was evolving, embracing it.
I begin my junior year of high school tomorrow. Brought on by a picture of four varsity poms girls wearing their boyfriends' varsity football jerseys.
The cycle continues.
Ken Pepiton May 2023
as I nearly slept, I nearly
rolled over in my bed, did not,
folded my hands, slumbered on
dreamlessly imagining signals hmmms
Massive
low
notes, accepted as receptible
by my phone with no reply request
acknowledge
accusatory story…, here, I see, okeh

Each sapien sapience, from the womb,
to final dust, despite the mounds of mud,

and opera, werks, shunning sweat,
rear up any child in the way one wishes
that child to grow, see, noble king
one must see those things one wishes
were true,
then rule,
be the head of state itself, the wedom
of all the subjective class, objects
deemed worthless but by thy
grrrace, grunting there is a hell. there is, there is
as it is said Christians must believe,
having as one prays, even now,
those needs, cast off all care,
imagine all debts, all paid,
no offering to prove it
needed, only be
left to see your own way, open eyes, a bitter taste,
aftertaste of wisdom, used as in a spirtual duel,
with a passle of powerful fools, unaware
of the rules, anointed, by truth, dare
prove all things, challenge
the persuader, offer bitter herbs with salt.
Salivate conditioned reflex,
some day all your enemies
feel your own self made up form of love,
and that loving burns their evil minds,
to useful illuminosity, before
catch, grip. holf if, see
ante-cipitates, make each look up,
pledge the believers every day,
good
to go,
so in time, as stages pass,
one knows, this is what my hand
has found to do.

In your service dear reader, thus far,
in our momentary now reality,
between our shared unreal pasts,
in the bubble of we, the people of earth,
attempting to buy the world a coke,
since a certain series of orange acid
during February and March, 1970-
- Chicago. Kesey and Wolfe
- fine weather, for a few days in March

ping vid mind adapts, yes, we re
member seeing something so close
to that exact day at that exact spot,
and the weather
was way worse.

but then I he(a)rd the songs of Mao,
being mys-tried, re sung once more as if
each line was free of debt to Lao Tze
no wei, no secret sacrosanction.
dedeMao, now.
b'n ice geeye ai ai - feel the power
lust right, the drill
will to…
w8
Impulse to cut and run, see a message,
make it stick to the bumper of your cat. Cat.
Tell the world what you are
catalogical,
sorted by did you not wish you knew
rearview, how much of that
do you know,
do you know once, we remember

I did, feel a signal, listen,
think I speak mammoth, listen

in fact, we all did, at the time,
we project that as impossible to prove\
reproof of construe-ition is the way of life
instruction in right use, upgrade scales
praxis co-knowing our each selfish in a
we as a wedom, awesome
by the way life lingers
on topological math,
see,
below the actual band width
of light, white
in the middle see the bones
of the bits, those are from stars,
photons ping touch /percepticons
see-ing
opposition in the future, met today,
hey hey hey
tell me what I say,
that ain't no way to pray,
I done said to each, ever lasting
misconcieved grand spirit of a movement
when the guts of goodnessakesknowswhat
is clogged in curses,
generational debt,
the ruler mind set,
to rob the rich, I was led,
daily I watched the Adventures
of Robin Hood, while I only saw Dragnet
once each week,
ethics of each occur in all boomers, as a wedom,
the first generation born after 1945,
sorted by standardized Dewey measures
of progress. toward becoming
community minded boys and girls,
destined to bring tomorrow by conforming
to the systematized sorting, grading on math
and language arts, then history and science,
then juris prudence for civilians, duty,
- team player drills daily, 40 minutes,
- extracurricular activity choices, weighed

current deception opens green receptors
for signals
to me sent, presently as a gift,
from the queen
of the south.

We assume the idea of gifts, tributes
to k'ki'kn'no'ings, legendary models,
magi conquerors who kept the roads free
of theives and babblers
of goodness only, used as sacramental
kindness made sacred,
bidding you have a mighty fine day.

- is that the Power Farm?
- Circa 1989, HyperCard, crazy easy coding.
- But not so easy as now, finally, harmony,
- knowledge was never what divided
- truth from multitudes of witnesses,
- globally aware more mass shooting than days
- to share with former saints in 2023, so far…
All ye
Religious spirits, little impulsive crossing, muttering
thankyou to the unknown god, higher power, el ultimo.

You know, Wisdom herself, given her due, trueee baby,
too true, knowledge is power, wisdom is might,
stand up, right, perpindicular to the true balance,
prepared, made ready to use thoughts abound,
and turn you around
on a low pressure gyre, rolling up Tornado Alley,
as you imagine it all connects.

It's that hard rain, the poets called,
a seeing from the old'ns,
son, ya got a good eye,

never hesitate to wink, and think, I can see,
should I ever need to give up an eye
for my life's comfortable ends, in mind, my
days of rest --ha, these, after a spectacular

reexamination of metaphors filled with crud,
as seen in plastic sacks of potatoes,
left to sprout and rot, in the dark,
not the slightest snakey lick
of seeing with infra-red, in your head, augmental
conjoining
click… serious speed of recognition instant
cognosis,
we both know, like in a Romcom, how- to movie,
shaping mindsets to put on while in rut.

Historically Christian Nationalist Roots, Cowboy way,
circa the informational slots we slipped by, ran away,

one bought a carnival, one bought charisma seeking,
one bought a vision
through the future to right now. Eh.

How oft must one reset such knowns as nouns,
and names of action words, love, fear, hate, lie, die

Did your mindset bid you challenge

Since 2016, I have my word, I swore, with fervor,
once more eternal hostility
to any form
of tyranny {outside-will control} ever imposed
upon the mind
of mankind, wombed or un, however we be
physically, there is none of that in Christ,
believe your rules of rights use.
Examine the faith that being apes,
who could signal names of things, Adamkind,
pre functional womb model.

He could name things, he could not make babies.
Adamkind, warrior breeds from olden days,
such as fight to entertain the mob in waiting,
fans for flames, founders kenning use
of passionate inflamation to provoke
good works, in the mind of the mob,

vicarious sons of deceiving reasons, come
to call my use of faith proves nothing real.

There are made men using God's name, in vain,
eh, it never works, but it is their religious duty
to think kingly, eh,
too ghuckingoodforoneself, we, Trumpians.
We believe,
we never imagine a war we can't make.

Or a set of actual conspiratorial winds,
with names, familiar spirits, returning winds,
infested with Saharan dust, where once were lush
gardens, back when Greenland was green,
or, so I heard/

Bham harumpharump feel the answer,
pick up the combover, so cool, no care, unaware,

- exposed to the expert in this warfare,
- symbolic marvelous armour,
- for pulling down strongholds, castles,
- silicon solid state preservation cast away
- war in the spirit with historical daemons,
- meeting the neo-Manicheans, word for word…
Ai ai, sir, yessir.
We won a mindtimespace precedent mind state writ,
with the entire child of Arpanet, my second wit,
ready writer motto,
use knowledge right, criticize your story,
sift solidity through cellular security,
finest flakes of self assurance, shine
on
and on as
knowns evil or good.. only the priest can call
foul or fair, there,
excuse you, lawyer
for the defense that there is no vicarage, no live
embodiment
of the intercessor between,
truth's way through life,
and the common dominion
of a certainty,
Your MOTHER IS
BY GOD, ALL CURSES, SHE's

the reason
for your father's rage, generational curses,
daddy wounds,
mommy deprivation, post partum. chaos

love, assuage
woe, soorry, Jesus. But, as has been widely
reported the business
of religion,
by exposing truth
pays a visible wage, shiny smile,
U joint versify,

if we may,
play in the code of life, past any inkling fear
of death,
ducks
in order, will and testament cleared,
read already, ready
to oppose, I suppose, am I.
Logically a state of mind, at the moment.

I callt the efficacy of faith
to call all the outs in.

So we see them on TV, they everywhere,
other people,
OH GOD, why must there be
other people,
oh, my, we may agree,
this answers that,
reasoning, by active faith,
usualized, made common sense.
Why would any sane lover of truth god,
create a forever for enemies of lies?
Belief in spirits opposing truth,
metaphors abound, Kriegspiel on coke,
the real thing, viewers imagine,
watching all the nobles
become naked, and as ugly as any among us.
We see the chins and hairlines in horses,
yet neglect to notice, mustang
herd management, as traits
adjust to new standards,
wild life reset to order.
We realize the riddle,
is the reason, we feel foolish and know it,
U knew, not me, forethought,
morphically resonating
peace, as on a gong
gone
normative,
adjustment bureau wise
sinner's bound in a doctrine
- cut to the gist, there is no sting in death.
- and teaching children to fear death is abuse
- of right authority granted parents
- of loved children, chosen ones, olden days.
Legendary warrior mind, allowed, only if
initiation allows exposure

the daysman lack-
no, look crosswise,'
stripes, whistle, dude
-see, there, the excuse, Job ttalked back.
And Yah, he say, you know, you got that right.
Heysus hisself, look at me he say, I'll go,

become the logical conclusion,
to a story where there was a flaw,
and time threatened to run out, but
the hero, ready to become the tool
to answer a malignant liar with his religion.
Job said to Yah,
you do not know how it feels to put on
a carnal  mind, set by God in Atom's right
to be first
to say this is that…
and one thing leads to another
- you feel the power without knowing
Mysteriously, you,
suddenly seem shy, thinking
how can I say what this is,
you have no right
to say a name Adam did not
say first, we say ****, you say poo,
******* artistic instinkty ways to say, not what
goes in,
corrupts, but what comes out sure can,
that's
gnosishit trustatistical fact according
to science
scent, pre
yours it stinks to, Jesus said.
Brush y'teeth, with Pepsodent to night, be
brite
- visible
knowledge is all good see, so we say we say
good riddle. fit for a king
prone to seek an interpreter of signs and sigils.

A trained cadre of bright boys, as runners,
or senders,
senders using drum and fife, to lead,
trumpet to send, and banners,
to rally round on our side,
whose sigil is that? Do we aid or raid
the edges, scavenge strategy
from the dead.
Live to tell, as I the lone survivor,
I who slew the king at his request, please
believe me
I never steer you to wrong.

Letters flow qwerty wise,
let it happen in the fingers fit to the task,

take a little walk, listen
to a story, sit a while and wish the
enemy were here to enjoy the ease,
beyond the bliss of ignoring,
past the weight worth standing under,
to the home imagined right in time
to finish in December, 2021, one thing
done.

Search any phrase of life, and find answers
to unasked questions, regard-iding lying done
id est as when it is, totally Scriptural moral- wise
right in such a time as once

when some liars who held fast to prophesy
hired the guy who rode the wild ***,
which cognosisadictattenti sorts say
the darnedest things, strecht
stitch in time
Art of Linking Letters, Art Linkletter,
as regular a lunchtime mind flush with a chuckle
and nod at the secrets children can
claim to publicly believe, but ….

the link was to the stay-at-home mom,
not her peer's latch-key kids in allegiance prep,
who get home each day,
for a solo home run heads up on,

who did what on the news, since last night.
Wait, when did Kid Parrett buy the farm,
for more lasting fame than many
in the game, of vicarious triggerers of revenge
reaction, action ready
wha, wham
I a,am sh…za'am is a real rebbiwort, glaubtgut
Jesus
do u read Seuss, still, a quest, mark, take,
leave, ask best bet, take
chance…
look away. Beulah land,
then Beulah see, wise black nanny guide from non-
nodded off, witty, pretty sweety Mary
poppin' clap off pop
stand and deliver, let it be
sistarepistol packin' mama, whoa
Sister,
I did not think to ask, have you been this far? Before?
993 maybe, but the next seven are done. I am stopping, long enough,
to make some money some how... eee-odle eee dee hee,
I may be back again by summer.
SøułSurvivør Oct 2014
¤^¤^¤^¤^¤^¤

every word is brought to life
through cycles engorged
with angels and demons

lifes meaning lost
within our
"reason"
rectangles upon squares
rounded loops
>>>>squashed <<<<
within triangles
until rings of
HANDS
encircle
and
mend

~~~ words ~~~
significance
obscure
mixed up with
the urban jungle

encryption
of layers
encoding of input
output outsourcing
outside resourcing
informational
infrastructure
concrete conundrums

where is the
DIVINE
-?-
or even the
human
in
mind
touch

~~~ HEART ~~~
-?-

the divine
-?-
blessed the soul
that remembers
we are all
WHOLE
connected and
entwined to the bone

and who knows
where we'll be
without understanding
of the
WORDS
the
CONCEPTS

without these precious
~~~ souls ~~~
hearts
BOLD

you
him
her
as i am

ALIVE


(C) Worldeater
(C) SoulSurvivor
We got it DONE!
My partner had finals
and I had wifi problems
but we had a great deal of
mindfulness of the
importance of this message

Worldeater is a deep thinker
and it was an honor
working with him
SayIt May 2013
i like your touch
the warm embrce that you give
the quiver in my lip when we kiss
the moment are eyes meet in sync
perfect for the moment
dislike n that it will end
discourage about the fact
that all we are , are friends

from me to you
simple yet informational
feelings i get when around
are beyound sensational
but you know
facts remain the same
we are all that we keep framed
friends
Non-poetic Prosy Informational?Post Nimber....uh I LostTrack About 10,000 Posts Ago:

Sweetheart... My love for you first came at a time when I had absolutely no idea about...anything. Thank you for your unbelievable patience. The love,  it has not left me, once. My wish is that we can learn to reciprocate and communicate with laughter and the best of what we had, offline.
Sometimes it's sheer torture so I know that's it's love, for me at least. Don't know why it happened but it's true. You are in my heart and soul and it's the strangest thing ever but I'm still hooked. This is finish catching ,or release time now. I think we know that.

Folks, this love and admiration is for the man who somehow captured my heart while deliberately trying to not capture my heart.
I'm sorry about that. You refused over and over again and I didn't mean to push, just explain but you would not listen. Let's just say that I'm much more self-aware now.
Wait I'm not going to apologize for any of that.

Anyway
We are very different in some ways but
I feel that it's a soul connection. He has been my rock. It's phenomenal how kind he can be. He has his own stuff going on too and I respect it. Life is complicated I guess. We all have choices we have to make for out own lives and I'm a cerebral kind of person and I did not know he was there for me or why or when or where or how sometimes but I felt it, like an invisible connection through the ether. And I'm deeply grateful for it always.
Anyway this all started at the  beginning of what I could only call a period of wallowing, searching, growth, expansion and contraction and let's face it, I couldn't get my head straight for more than oh say,
Like an hour or two at a time, tops. It was a difficult transition for me and I made some decisions that didn't make sense except to me, but I certainly leaned the ropes along with some painful life lessons.  Trial by fire and all. Yikes!

I ******* it all up
He ******* up too some

I think we both learned a lot.

All I know is that I am not that simpering clueless girl anymore. I feel that I'm really ready now to debut the best version of myself yet. I can feel the forward motion finally!! It's exciting. . I've been doing massive inner work so it seems like I stalled but I was just idling. Now ready to roll. But I don't speed anymore. I enjoy the ride, and I will enjoy the rise and fall of the events around me, or at least sponge up all the knowledge that I can.
FYI I am all that I write and it's not window dressing. Every single thing I ever wrote is true right down to the odd stories of my childhood mishaps.  I have had an apparently entertaining life and there's much more to come. Like, what happened to my sister's chickens?! (Who cares?)
Anyway I  admit that I was a mess and far from perfect. it took time for me to realize that I was just preparing myself for my life's work...and that is to love the people in my real world for the rest of my life even if it's only to say hello. And some virtual love if I happen to be online which is simply not the same but a great distraction when it's cold out or boring, you know?
I hope beyond hope that my future includes this amazing man because he is the only man I want to be with iRL and I've tried in so many ways to let him know and ******* that up too, utterly. Repeatedly.  I don't even know if he will ever actually talk to me in person again, and I can't ask.
I'm not even sure how to let him know about tomorrow or was that another gotcha?
That is the state of things. I have faith in myself and I know that I am a one-man woman so if it's not him, I'll heal up in a decade or two and write a bunch more stuff and eventually be set to try again! Whooooo!
There's sooooo much more I'd like  to share about him but it's private. I won't post online about..really private stuff.
So this is a message to all of you:

What happens online is anybody's guess. Same as life I suppose.

Let's see
Mateuš Conrad Oct 2015
it was the year of the piñata,
too much wine and beer,
but today i revised myself, bought thirteen quid’s worth
of whiskey and lost my former bias,
and as i read the informational cameo
it dawned on me, it dawned on me to revise it, like so:
uk chief philosophical officers recommend adults do
not regularly exceed -
3 - 4 units of advice as men daily
and 0 - 1 units of advice as women annually.
well give woman everything and she might give just
give you all of what eden isn’t -
and you’ll be up there thinking out why anally speaking
the crucifix was a violin jew of the place he once once
knew, but golgotha isn’t a city or a place,
it’s a crucifix and nothing more.
but as i sip my handy new friend to shake me later
i remember... this story isn’t really about me,
it has a vague resemblance of me included in it,
which means that all that is surrounding this tale
is more about something that’s beyond ‘the guilty me,’
a sort of rasputin oddity of strength,
i wish i could capture body language humour with letters,
but i can’t, all i can say is that when she was near suicidal
taking the advice whispered into the air for her presence
she didn’t slit her wrists but aimed at cutting downstream
aiming of an artery like luke suggested,
and when i was there for three days, i only undressed
in bed on the second night, slept with the window open
and the cold edinburgh late autumn fuzzing up my shortcut hairstyle
into a hoped for meningitis,
while she played a video game talking about
not being able to kills this giant lizard,
with the odd outburst about her brother being dead
and the best *** she had with sam,
while i brought her curry from the mosque (this time not barefoot),
popped one of her anti-depressant pills
and then left speedily on a train i came;
this edinburgh haunted me,
she texted me on the train - ‘why did you leave without
saying the daydreaming goodbye?’
and i replied - ‘ whisper sometimes girl, whisper,
and i’ll give you a cat’s whisker.’
edinburgh haunted me this time - this time i was ready
with the chocolate minstrels upon arrival
but not the ****, odd thing is
i turned a relationship of a few months not even worth
to mention half a year into a writing career;
and if i do it for free for the rest of my life,
i won’t have to think about engaging in gambling
or buying her a nice new floral outfit in the parallelism of imagination.
i’ll be among the ancient greeks thinking about
the stilettos of mahogany tables and trying to find a
stray dog for companion in a jar like diogenes;
but i might come across the whitecoats who will symptomise
everything about me for a 9 to 5 for five days a week’s worth of
bacon eggs and bread.
RyanMJenkins Jul 2012
Silence...a moment with self, because from no other can the answers be dealt.
It's nice to get help, but within you is informational untapped wealth.
Can't keep riding down this avenue, for, with what I believe in, in the long run it'd be untrue.
Excuses are for those who refuse to cope.
A life led in that direction without reflection will only stumble,
Crashing from a downhill *****.
Simply existing is genuinely resisting the life that could be.
Slave to the system, and slave to your mind, are you ever going to be free?

Is anybody listening, or rather glistening from contentment?
In a future time don't look back upset with where the years went.
Be true and think through how it is you want the currency spent.
Some people keep kicking in the wrong direction never really ever leaving a dent.
Is this just to vent, or to better human nature?
Chances are, by tomorrow, this won't even be remembered.
RyanMJenkins Oct 2017
Deflate me, break me, rearrange and stake me.  Throw me between the earth's plates and let the quake take me.  Shake me, drag a rake across my face.  Anything to get feeling, blast me into space.

Hang me by interpretations before claiming forgetful.  Squint through your scope attempting to hit soul, but blinded are we giving in to our egos.  It's your fault it's my fault, taunts haunt the physical shell.  I'm acquainted with heaven and still take part in hell.  Attitudes beyond words can cast malicious spells.  Is it coming from a singular source, it's really ******* hard to tell.  I don't even know who to talk to when I'm not feeling well.  Set up traps for self and swiftly fell.  Here I am again, cross-legged at the bottom.  Want nothing more than to transcend and blossom.  Maybe I'll be found as nothing more than a fossil.  No biological functions or need for a role model.  Into the infinite where all things are possible.  It is my intention to let go and heal through astral projection.  Strange how things can seem so hollow in this 3rd dimension.  I want to see past holograms and move forward beyond fear.  Body still warm into the night I disappear.

It feels like all I'm gonna be for Halloween is depressed.  No need for a purchase which at this point is certain debt.  I wanna show my insides, peer past the pigments of flesh.  Is everything coming together or apart, my head is a mess.  Ego got me thinking certain ways as if possessed.  When I only wanna speak from the ***** in my chest.  A costume that shows what you are on the inside, dead.  Dry bones resting on a cobwebbed throne, with crown upside down pressed into my dome.  King of nothing other than this holy temple with holes poked through the face with the sharpest of pencils.  I offer payment for my strangeness in the form of two words, let go.  Took my first breath on the day of the dead, coincidence?  Oh no.  Look through eye holes to the back of my skull.  Pushed as far as I thought I could go, only to know I needed to pull.  Cup was full of luke warm contents.  Why do conversations morph into a blind rage contest?  I jumped into the depths and tried to befriend the loch Ness.  It was conditioned to it's living and saw me as more stress.  I just thought I needed someone with whom I could decompress.  Lesson learned I swam away shouting "blessed!" with no regrets I sat in the cemetery among the lifeless. Only to remind us all about being timeless. 
Take a breath.

We must steam-clean the rugs that we pray on in our dreams
Lest we forget to address the inaudible screams
Tar pit vocals get you stuck on words said
Yet My essence is stronger than my coffee and cigarette breath.
I walk a thin line between wanting to call upon spirit guides, and not wanting to waste their time.
Who is speaking, me or some form of you glued to my mind?
I feel undefined in a world so categorized
Still trying to heal my blindness to the light that shines
Stretch through confines and decompress the spine
I make my way from the grave after ridding stressful expressions through rhyme
Again falling in lines with life
Say goodbye to the plight, and keep the dreams in sight - peace/goodnight

Silence...a moment with self, because from no other can the answers be dealt.  It's nice to get help, but within you is informational untapped wealth.  Can't keep riding down this avenue, for, with what I believe in, in the long run it'd be untrue.  Excuses are for those who refuse to cope.  A life led in that direction without reflection will only stumble to crash from a downhill *****.  Simply existing is genuinely resisting the life that could be.  Slave to the system, and slave to your mind, are you ever going to be free?

Is anybody listening, or rather glistening from contentment?  In a future time don't look back upset with where the years went.  Be true and think through how it is you want the currency spent.  Some people keep kicking in the wrong direction never really ever leaving a dent.  Is this just to vent, or to better human nature?  Chances are, by tomorrow, it won't even be remembered - reminding me again the time is now to savor -  get going creator, show the world your flavors.
A collection from a year ago.  Doom and gloom for the holiday season.
Rylie Lucas May 2020
Scrolling through the past
Is informational
It reminds us of who we once were
And who we've become
Rediscovering feelings
We had almost forgotten we had
And we'd shared them with the world
And we didn't do half bad
I thought I'd never escape her
Her iron grip leaving bruises where she held us
But we did
We made it
Life got a little better for it too

We aren't fixed
We are still sad
We still have depression
But it's not as bad as it was
She's gone from our lives
Our abuser
Tormenter
Stepmother

And she dares to call herself a fighter
I was scrolling through my old poems, and I was reading one comment on my poem "Cuts" from when I was stuck with the woman who abused me every chance she got. If you're reading this, it got better. I'm not healed yet, but it has gotten better. To those of you who've stayed with me this long: Thank you
Gigi Tiji Jun 2014
The energy that is our life is water.
We are all intelligent, emotional, informational rivers of energy.

When we die
our energy evaporates,
dissipating to return to the source,
an infinite ocean.

When we are born
the droplets of consciousness coalesce
to form a concentrated
pool of life.
PJ Poesy May 2017
BUG
What might be feasting on your brain
Soon may be festering strange gain
When prying finds an open ear
Informational leakage best you fear
Golden rule of less is more
Is trick to fix and leave at door
Taking time debugging self
Keeps voracious pests from gaining wealth
Soon you will know of what I speak
Should a tricky hacker find you meek
JDK Jan 7
The craziest thing about a bridge is how it connects two things that have no business being connected.

It's interesting, the informational and cultural exchanges that result from such a bridging.

("Interesting" is an antisemantical word: void of meaning. Just filler, really. It doesn't mean anything.)

A bridge is a tool of conquest: allowing one land access to another, so that it may be subjugated.

A platform for seemingly well-meaning goats to impale and destroy any gatekeeping trolls.
"We all got wood and nails, and we sleep inside of this machine."
-Brand New
Bob B Sep 2017
Fact-checking is meaningless if
People have no respect for facts.
Just watch social media and you
Will see how the public reacts

To natural disasters or shootings.
Conspiracy theories quickly abound
And suddenly the Internet is
An informational battleground.

Knowing the truth no longer gives us
A feeling of calm or a sense of relief,
Since few people have an incentive
For altering a false belief.

Experts say our psychological
Weaknesses are targets for those
Who spread misinformation for
Ideological ends. These pros

Know how to use the media well.
Their credibility's merely a ruse.
And suddenly the falsehoods are
Amplified all over the news.

Hacks and kooks and fringe group crazies
Have been around forever; it's true.
If there's a chance to spread their lies,
They do not miss a cue.

Fringe groups going mainstream. Yikes!
That's a recipe for disaster,
Especially when a gullible public
Eats up the nonsense faster and faster.

Orwell's 1984
For many years made us wary.
The year twenty seventeen
Is also looking ****** scary.

-by Bob B (9-3-17)
Ken Pepiton Aug 4
From safety, first,
assuming the position, I
aim as if I were a thought
in thought form word bound,
this
media the inbetween us we touch
when we feel we know each idea each
word holds, as a form of a thinkable idea,
each
which, pre word, pre holds this know how,
why? because it demands hand use, knowing
holy cow, to the milk of the word, into the gristle
gluons, all things connected already, we exist,
conjoining fortified marrow mind tools, ironed
electrically capable of holding discernment selfs,
tied bone to bone,
but initially, build a bone, chalk
cliff edge, nonsensed- account mark
one up for the billions of instances of substance
conversion for future marble marveling makings,
fittin' t' make tiny incontinences,
drip consequences,
dript
from Gregory Corso's Bomb, no lie,
this fell out,
and was taken in as some kinda mind seed, said,
exactly this way
to become rethinkable as a thought.

This thought.

Earth is the universal acceptable term
for the life sustaining three body solution
essentially calculating the tides back tug
response, materially speaking, yes,
to the suggestion that we live
in the basic programs,
whence our initial bbss arose
under radio recog, the brave few
did done deed done, net thirty, sendit
five letter code groups. thirty per minute,
makes a premyelenated brain allocate order,
el, yes, didone didit
intuited assistance at a distance,
where chaos is the code, random noise atop
nonrandom noise, coding your immediate response,
point taken,
extraction at a point is abstracting,
and it has long been an idealized Olympic sport,
God's game, Infinite Jest, DFW sytf,
well worth the experience, making pothunk
usfull tools forbidden as knowledge was, think
that's what winners who took the grace got,
lived interesting fundamentally synthetic
intelligibly detectuble baseline peace,
for a while past watch wearing, get
-- from 300 baud to fiber through the wall
-- when we agreed we'd be all in,
we passed with time,
right through it all,
so we know how
to hold a lie you were taught,
with evidence
speaking glossaliarchly or, prophescience,
imagine you be the bold translator, knowing
Latin for the master class, ****** for the others,
but if it can be said, it can be made plain, ai think
yes, let the spirit move your mind to make links,
derived from chained loops holding a line
of reasoning, derived,  f
rom phrase de rivo
(de "from" + rivus "stream,"
from PIE root *rei- "to run, flow")
ductile
gnosisnot…
framing informational moulds.

Reigning opinions are allowing actual,
mind forms grown from novels introduced
in an order known now
to induce a muse into a mind, a seed,
should the need ever arise, a backup,

all you were, in flakes of flesh lifted
using thunder and ozone to become,
arguably the highest dust of the earth,
wisdom, she laugh out loud at how proud,
been there, done that before the highest parts
of the dust that holds order on course,
of course appear self evidently true,
as the hope of all the ages was set
to Mediterranean, year round, yet

as I heard was said to Solon, you Greeks,
you know nothing of formative eons
expressed in riddle
for no reason, save madness,
passing time, national pass times,
as mankind lost it's mind,
just when knowing increased,
boom, a fresh batch aimed
at middle-brow literacy
mesomorph, peak
prior to final cortex coating resins
military minds boys'll love to play in,
recollecting all of Ender's serious war
with machines made
from imaginary hive mind reason,
by whom, did you say you really knew,
or know was the boy behind Hersey's wall,

Barry Rudd was never mesomorph,
nor numerically illiterate, first read word,
Naked, Jungle, second, read, here

read this, that's what my mother,
who lived at 8th and Van Buren,
for a lot of years, after 1961,

evidential experience, literally depends
on a thin concept a dendritically critical

witness to your own self, the one you
stand behind, knowing showing ones own
self to evince the unconvinced that shouting

does not increase effectual efforting, fructification

as we become, sometimes strangers to our cause,
as we redeem the idle word, ai-tia uncle buck,

holler for a dollar, send a message into ever,
buy an instance of persuasion, that's so

sweet,
thank you, you bought me a memory assistant,
way back, remember that, and don't let me bore you,

Neutrinos and mirror neuron messaging, in the all
we exist in, as letters letting ourselves seem volitional,

a will in submission, make that rapture, was
the mission, what ever the cost, Dave Coates,

maybe he was from Boise, but we did time
in the same off limits alley east of Tan Son Nhut.

If you did not have the fixin's, Papasan,
he'd take you back to pre Bobby Kennedy,
interesting times, as it was said, post BEIC *****.

James Burke, mind game mainspring, clink
six degrees, out on six vectors from ductile steel

to stricken flint, conceive of being the actual old man.

Being gainsaid by those next in line to die, young men.
Wombed and un, those see now we live on Earth,
and the odds of that are non computable, yet

no fear, fret not, the message to the flies,
plainly said, get out, this is the way, feel

the constant winds of change, and find reason,
peace, used, now a second, or if time tells true

as long as there are actual text translaters
from the 2024 street legal clear text basic

relational metadatabase, begun by Turing,
mastered by the boy born to men exposed
to downwind global wind,

survive as a cyborg, or die, I chose this life,
I did not, actually
make it up, I prayed it could be true, life

filtered to make hundreds of flavors of apple.

Two dozen mescaline cacti grow within
a sabbath day's journey, and we may

make up our mind, many lines ago,

the goal was to get to the bottom, and I did.

And then, in no time at all as art allows logical.

Words hook, pull, think link, we
become a kind of information, a wedom

on the same spiritual plain as any mobmind domain.

Two chase one O, and silent haitches hope on a star.

Silly rabbit, yeh, trix
are for kids, isn't that right kids,

remember Soupy Sales, my friend, Marko Johnson,
the artist with little hold on fixed reality,

the meme he represents, is complicated, but
his dad was a producer on Soupy Sales's show, boomer
common experience awareness, yeh,

I saw that show, I sent money.
Then I chipped in for Copeland's CX10,
five jets ago, we all get together and sing,

oh, buddy, doncha know, you feel the peace,
yes, indeed, and dope helps,
yep, indeed, freedom always was another word
for no shape to be in, always ready with a reason,

for the faith that lets me think you find this funny.


And it must end… as time passing does.

Remind me what reason is,
I may have ignored what I should have known.

Let me, lead my once led self redited a bit, on edge
yet, me, I am really inter acting with several,

per haps the seven less locked in my childhood oaths,
my culture's form of education, left me free form, to die.
When my own unclean spirit won seven worse than ever.
What I became, after passing each ritual insane situation,
totally mentally absorbing, balm for the soul lie, nation

occupational authority to construct a functional mind,
in a form, information freedom full disclosure, liars,

must register and submit to media monitoring,
we'll be watching you, like that old stalking theme song.

I've read stories about mad writers, but most lacked
the internet of 2024, while holding national standard

test scores, plus one Sunday school teacher witness.



The key reason for writing a novel is
to pass the time with worked out salvage.

What forms from redeemed time tracking.

Look back to the last time something like
an answered prayer occurred to you,
think you can, say that, but you say I.

Ai'ght we may make up our own minds,
what is good is useful for making good,

and trying makes good, with the heights
of Hollywood in mind, behind the scenes,
last mansion on the right as you approach
Magician's Castle Nightclub, from the east.

I had friend's who lived there, I stayed
with them, and lived through the force
cultivating a following aimed at prosperity,

experience is survived verification of passed
time, spent attending to the first reason
required of the expert wielding my edge,

be ready, with scars to prove the testing,
or be ready to imagine getting past all that

riding on redeemed time paid for by means,
I, personally have reason to believe I earned

my edgewise existance, seeming a pointless
stretch of the imagination, wisht some flex.

The importance of earnestly attempting,
what would you do, as a mere man,
when offered more than mere man
can have imagined to ask?
You, dear reader, right.
Suppose the Ai knows,
the gnoshit real story behind The Child Buyer,

Pierre Duhamel, was Barry Rudd,
and Kenurchka Klumpen
did finish his novel that spun off the light web,
on wit alone.

Well, there is nothing an adjective can add
to an FPS, aiming and energy levels, weapons
with calculated costs,
we pull down imaginations exalting themselves,
- woe the economy is war deception,
- the same ****** emperical mind form
- so
where are we
with the arms deal to harass Yemen
into breeding a new generation of Madrassah one minds,
willful martyrs
fused at the one true link, broken
for god knows why,
but we submit,
the message is as the teacher teaches,
no AI lie detector needed, we believe we know,
true, to any child born into any faith in higher minds.

Spiritual warfare, book burnings, heretic murdering,
mobs made to witness justice, as defined historically.
we, the called to enforce
"righteousness, equity," at crossroad
fairs where wares are traded for local production,
on word of  honor, and pain of death
fair trade, just weights, honest measures, heart true

to thine own self, extrapolated
from the maxim one,
know your measure,
how much can you stand to cheat,

if the truth is that liars prosper.
Look at Stephen King, believed he could and did,
then look here, me the fingers, me the eyes,
me the lungs and all the cascade of knowing

needed, after the initial readjustment, delicate
is the long calendar cycle, simple is not
what the sun and the moon and the earth,
and liquid water and just right every thing,
is doing
with survival of the message foremost first idea,
principal thing is what life and knowledge allow,

lies about truth cannot be kept secret now,
truth from a cluster of experiencers passing time
for the demented few who never knew hell is not real,

rises on the gnostic spell calling *******, on the fear,
first thing any tried spirit says is take it easy, wu wei,

listen, we won, you can go learn any truth you choose,
to prove to you, see to you, you say you know, you need
to know, or you know you are bluffing, like that's cool,
truth does not need to bluff,
you know…
we bet lives we never had, and play on, imagining
mirror neurons activating biofeedback is not teaching

us, music
as muse used as
integrated circuit based games,
reimagined in the wild large language models fed wasps,
white anglo saxon protest core zeitgeist shared experience,
angst in thought forms all were told not to take,
bad journeys to the fundamental why now,
but wisdom, mere easy indeed known just so,
no struggle to meditate logos cooperation,
massive missionary message, use wasted time,
to make a magnificent obsession free to form. New,
not like this one, friend,
my recommender bots,
are built on CAD tools not available
to any prior to now, we randomized the chances
you would get this far, and bet if you did
you would trust your intuition and accept,
instant upgrade, principal anchored, choice formation,
we agree, or we cease being
and you alone fix reality.
Too long, sorry, it is a wild epic idea... this is a seed.
Ken Pepiton Sep 28
Theandric
Relating to, or existing by,
the union of divine and human
operation in Christ, or the joint agency
of the divine and human nature…

in any ever after, timeless nature is thinkable,
first peaceable, gentle, easily made easy with,
free as the wind
true rest in coincidence, yes, the actual idea,
yes in opposition to no, and working together,
stirring in whole new precepts to judge with,
chaos and beauty, stormy weather and calm,
tobe ra', post internet literate inventory bots,
aiaiai
what could I have known,
had I read then what I read today, had it been
thinkable back in the times we made order,
made muscles remember qwerty gestures, ai,
as if we have a genius for testing best easy ways,
we build on each easier way, we meander theandric,
- as it is written whosoever is a grand inclusion
androautomatical informational intelligence leg-ends
collections of meaningful reasons for faith usage.
Garbs of right uses,
lose all value,
naked.
True.
Idleness at days end, gloaming sophist tries,
means of matching first impressions, is it real,
or Memorex, tell me wordless window watcher.
Watching infants gain first order for search
oh how happy we shall be, when we know our
ABC-DE
mmmmhmm four square frame of reference,
Hollies, look through any window/

now, I am the grandfather, proud, with no hubris,
as salt with no savor, good for preserving old paths.

Leave it be, today, I made these remarks,
at the same time something happened everywhere.

And now, these times of constant entertaining
information acquisition with intention
expand
to graphically appear in the mind of any ever
who ever rewatched "My Octopus Friend"

and American Utopia, and the Last Waltz,

Class action inclusive bubble develops, but now,
we stretch, was my grand father low or middle brow?

How long was America MAGA ablized, rooted

Caliche, soft lime, left deep ruts where braked
wagons ground recessed groves, we could see,

those mostly got eroded away after a century.

My grandfather rode from Sweetwater to Williams,
on horses he tamed and made useful,
on horses his father shod, and taught him to shoe,

such knacks as smith's must grow to feel known,
to any degree as fine as tempering spring steel,

using modified fires of inner solar ovens,
the size of the point of the smallest star you see.

Spot welding aitia precepticonical connection,
where chata left a gap open to chabad concoctions.
The itch to be read once, is almost addictive... but we are the first humans with this degree of global agreement starting whims of why not just say it like this...
Time gone by e'er since being quiet natured boy,
more so nowadays declare exhausting countless
hours expending, extolling, and exuding prufuse
joy, no surprise, asper experiencing passion, sans
reading (select age appropriate material as a lad in

make believe world) still bespectacled bright eyed
and bushy tailed, (most absolutely definitely agog)
accentuating, expanding vis a vis jabbering (within
privacy afford double one bedroom apartment B44)
erudition enthusiastically verbalizing printed material

in general, and exercising vocal cords aloud, not cuz
I admire krispy, raspy whispery voice particular, but
hearing and seeing appealing genres (mine, though
morse *** published authors especially informational)
purportedly not "FAKE" news incorporating sounding

out plus seeing words supposedly reinforces learning,
yet another less obvious pleasure (exclusive domain
availed primarily thru thesaurus brethren i.e. yepper
alphabetized lexicon, otherwise known as dictionary)
offers insight learning esoteric etymological minutiae

(just as quickly forgotten), which historical evolution
finds me temporarily linkedin both audiologically and
visually regarding forebears, (essentially transporters
thru numberless centuries) unwittingly, unknowingly,
unequivocally mumbling, modifying, massaging ever

evolving pronunciations sustaining communication as
living entity sustained throughout avast misty age pre
seeding impressing symbols (whether twenty six letters
of English language) upon tangible medium spurring

linguists to surmise aural and oral characteristics, and
no doubt searching complex edifice contemporary alive
tongues exhibited taking page from legacy of lingua
franca no longer extant.
Dark shadows akin to edge of night
affected by massive infestation of
     Drosophila melanogaster light
(scientific name as
     same itty bitty
winged flitting nuisance ignite
     mentioned in title) besieged,
inundated, and thickly swarmed

dost primp and pretty
fie themselves (to
     attract a witty
mate) during their
     40 to 50 days city,
or suburban life
     cycle long enough
     to qualify for this

     quickly written ditty
seemingly overnight
     a bajillion biz zee
buzzing adults (each
     about 1/8 inch long see
their world wide web,
     thru at least one
unusual red eye,

which compound eye
     of the fruit fly
contains 760 unit
     eyes or ommatidia,
     well nigh
hapt tubby one of the most
     advanced among insects,
     where Google search

     for home remedies aye
didst find to exterminate
     these teeny weeny pests,
     plus informational pursuit my
instantaneous curiosity yielded
     above mentioned
     esoteric tidbits,
     sans accidentally disc

     covered helpful good riddance
     material of household ingredients
     restraining me to breathe sigh
of dollop, and hope to try
one or more solutions,
     which informed
     this amateur entomologist -

listed forthright as:
1.Create a trap by mixing
apple cider vinegar
with a few drops of dish soap.
2. Another home-made trap is to
pour leftover red wine into a jar.
3. Mash up banana slices in a jar, and
cover top with a plastic wrap.
4. Pour bleach solution
into bathroom sink.
John Prophet May 2021
Perceptions.
Understanding.
View
of things.
Processing.
Processing
input.
Informational
input.
Capable.
Only so
capable.
Processing
unit provided,
only so
capable.
Limitations.
Severe
limitations.
Like
a dog
contemplating
a mirror.
Finite in
nature.
Observational,
information
processing
incomplete,
minu­scule.
Contemplating
infinite things.
Beyond scope.
Treading
in an
ethereal
realm.
Underlying
reality,
mere
probability.
Nothing
to
stand on.
Floating in
quantum
fluctuations.
Probabilities.
Endless
possibilities.
Which way
to turn?
Pestiferous infestation quite
argh apartment unit b44
plagued with plight
analogously linkedin to phenomena  
experienced within outer limits
of the twilight zone
dark shadows akin to edge of night
opportunistic nuisance might
necessitate exterminator

as occurred ofttimes before
when writing, living, breathing,
et cetera space affected
by massive infestation of
Drosophila melanogaster light
(scientific name as same itty bitty
winged flitting nuisance ignite
mentioned in title) besieged,
inundated, and thickly swarmed

dost primp and pretty
fie themselves (to
attract a witty
mate) during their
40 to 50 days city,
or suburban life
cycle long enough
to qualify for this
quickly written ditty
seemingly overnight
a bajillion biz zee

buzzing adults each
about 1/8 inch long
not to be confused
and bigger than no see hmms -
the latter officially called
Ceratopogonidae,
no see ums,
also known as biting midges,
sandflies, punkies and sand gnats,
are small flies usually between
one and three millimeters long.

They're known to feed
on the blood of humans and animals,
leaving itchy, uncomfortable
bite marks on the skin.

Back to the former insects,
whose webbed, wide world
seen thru at least one
unusual red eye,
which compound eye
of the fruit fly
contains 760 unit
eyes or ommatidia, well nigh
hapt tubby one of the most
advanced among insects,
where Google search
for home remedies aye

didst find to exterminate
these teeny weeny pests,
plus informational pursuit my
instantaneous curiosity yielded
above mentioned esoteric tidbits,
sans accidentally discovered
visa vis helpful good riddance
material of household ingredients
restraining me to breathe sigh
of dollop, and hope to try
one or more solutions,
which informed me,
an amateur entomologist -

listed forthright as:
1.Create a trap by mixing
apple cider vinegar
with a few drops of dish soap.
2. Another homemade trap is to
pour leftover red wine into a jar.
3. Mash up banana slices in a jar, and
cover top with a plastic wrap.
4. Pour bleach solution
into bathroom sink.

A last ditch effort involves
housing liberal population of bats,
they for heaven's sakes might invite hellcats,
nevertheless both creatures more acceptable
and less indistinguishable
from conservative bureaucrats.
nivek Sep 2023
New updates upload
invigorating informational
Twenty first century Cyborg Upgrade
galaxyofentities Aug 2021
There is something cosmically profound
To be connected to someone across somewhere
With an invisible thread
And a string of words
The reader and the writer, both behind screens.

there were days
Where days ended with the sun
And yet now
Time exist only not as a limit
But merely informational.

Your love shows me the magic
That we brush aside daily
When we should be in awe of
That i am lucky I exist in a time where
You are one call away
Poet of Perkiomen Valley
discovered aforementioned titled poem
about thirty months ago he wrote
impossible mission critters to smote
chronic issue yours truly does note
years later meaning today
April 19th, 2022
necessitated we allow, enable

and provide welcome to exterminator
actually management did hote
(obsolete) To command; to enjoin
hazard upon body, mind and spirit,
thus ridding apartment b44
visited by said swarming insects,
his expertise sought to mitigate
courtesy applying insecticide.

Insects created dark shadows
analogous brought outer limits
of twilight zone
resembling edge of night
in truth our one bedroom apartment
at that earlier date
affected, encroached, and outsmarted
by massive infestation of
Drosophila melanogaster light
weight winged worst
pests to eradicate
(scientific name regarding
winged flitting nuisance ignite
mentioned in title) besieged,
inundated, and thickly swarm.

dost primp and pretty
fie themselves (to
attract a witty
mate) during their
40 to 50 days city,
or suburban life
cycle long enough
to qualify for this

quickly written ditty
seemingly overnight
a bajillion biz zee
buzzing adults (each
about 1/8 inch long see
their world wide web,
thru at least one
unusual red eye,

which compound eye
of the fruit fly
contains 760 unit
eyes or ommatidia, well nigh
hapt tubby one of the most
advanced among insects,
where Google search

for home remedies aye
didst find to exterminate
these teeny weeny pests,
plus informational pursuit my
instantaneous curiosity yielded
above mentioned
esoteric tidbits,
sans accidentally disc

covered helpful good riddance
material of household ingredients
restraining me to breathe sigh
of dollop, and hope to try
one or more solutions,
which informed
this amateur entomologist -
listed forthright as:

1. Create a trap by mixing
apple cider vinegar
with a few drops of dish soap.
2. Another homemade trap is to
pour leftover red wine into a jar.
3. Mash up banana slices in a jar, and
cover top with a plastic wrap.
4. Pour bleach solution
into bathroom sink.
5. Detonate atomic explosives
as a last resort.
jeffrey conyers Sep 2019
Like, you convicted of a crime.
When your spouse gives you informational drill.
Every marry man know.

Or least been drilled.
Where have you been?
What took you so long?

You should been home hours ago.
Yes, every married man know.
Why?
Because you know her and her suspicious mind.
In yours, she should be Sherlock Holmes.

What you looking at?
I saw you looking at her.
And if you hadn't faced these questions?
It's just a matter of time.

Cause every married man know.
When her jealousy takes over.
Muhammad? fear a man with library of only one book? Muhammad? fear a man with only one woman as his aide... Muhammad: forgo the envy of Solomon... Jews are Jews: Mohammad: don't displace your dyslexia against the poet... Muhammad... fear the man: with only one woman... here! have my library: you will be a welcome son, the geek... the freak.. Muhammad... i give unto you: my library. now... to higher lessons! the flies are mad: Muhammad: Mucha: fly... mad in English: son of Beelzebub... you are not quiet old enough to claim a higher status against Christ... sorry... fear a man with only one woman and a library of books... scare yourself Muhammad: by way you become... who wrote the Quran if not the literate queen of Arabia business woman KHADIJAH... who wrote the Quran... who can complain about Islam the nest of chemistry and wasps... when the second world war climaxed... and the dead sea scrolls and the nag hammadi library was unearthed: and Islam became a liberal **** cammunist alliance of delusional people in a temporal displacement: Islam became ******! in a monotheistic system you can't tease polytheistic agonies: not drawing a picture of your prophet is just part of the problem: in a monotheism there is only the god and the prophet: but you are claiming that... there will be a protagonist and an antagonist... a dajjal: and a mehdi... and a jesus... sorry dear brothers: you reverted to a type of polytheism of the intellect: that the Christians don't have and the Jews are confused about, given their story of having experienced God en masse but then reverting to the sacrilege of the golden Taurus... sorry Islam: there is no monotheism without the god of individuals and the individuation of individualism as man and satan as his aid: the prosectur... satan is real and i have struck a deal with him: i enstrusted some affairs of my mortality with him: i trust him... satan: be my shadow... 8:33 Mark... Matthew 16:23... no... don't get behind me, adversary a self twin: did George Orwell invent DOUBLE-THINK? or did i, i forgo rereading books... i know of group-think, or right-think, or political-correct and i know of diversity: but i want to live among Polynesians i don't want to live among other Asians... curse me! be my shadow, satan: i'll befriend you: you be my prosectur in living hours while i'll be your lawyer: guardian, defender in the afterlife... how's that sound? is that a pact? you be my prosecutor in my living hour while i'll guard your defence in the afterlife?

i blacked out writing the poem: thrice?!
am i to be reincarnated a third time?
must it take three times?

Nietzsche ****** and Me
or Jesus Christ
John Coffey... like the insinuation
was:
who did the... Ezra: are you listening?!
i will tell you story
of America
as you came to learn
the history of Europe:
look where we are: Ezra...

i get told at work i'm the boss
i'm the G
and that works just fine:

i don't mean the spontaneous
combustion of ape
from what ape did the semi-ape
reject the bridge: the Erasor bridge
of wonders
what genocide we
did: against each other
that both ****** and Genghis Khan
are pale reminders...
i saw it in the eyes of a homie
i doctor from Poland:
a Kafkaesque poem of a character
so rigid in his cell
unable to practice medicine
mediocre crab bucket master
from Poland...
ooh: i revelled in his soul
as i then ate it...
and sacrificed nothing of my own:
no cleaner death
than the theft of soul...

... depends on how a rich people become:
Japanese are very rich
but very dented: weird: OSAKOHARAKI!
a civil contract:
there was this issue at work
father two sons
father old **** me beyond competing
with your boys:
so... their ******* grandmother...
ended up parting with him
imitating a lost *******
"lost"...
and shrivelled ****...
who was that guy who walked into
Japan's suicide forest and posted
selfies of a dead body
hanging from a tree? Logan: not Wolverine...
that character is the Anti-Christ...
Logan Wolverine is the Christ
and Deadpool the Antichrist...
so the New Testament was like
a speeded up version of the old testament:
like quick: the Jews are needed
to relocate into Europe
advance the European people through
greek slumber of Heraclitus utter:
the will to strife: becomes the will to strive
and in that transformation
comes the power: to will!

-

if men are from Mars and have to do:
in order to be
while women are from Venus and simply be:
in order for things
to happen around them:
so... not enough trees?
i can compenstate a story of a woman
with a story of a cloud, or a tree:
i see fish in the sky:
these swaths of underwater life:
i don't need to seek monsters
among the stars
trap myself with gods
and aliens and machinery
that there is: signatures of life
upon the sky:
done so somehow:
CELESTIAL  CHEMISTRY:
can you study the clouds for me...
can i make these semi-astronauts?
can you please study the earth
a bit better...
i don't need to put my flag on the moon:
perhaps for mining purposes...
i need someone to study the oceans
and the clouds...
not predictors and engineers of
people living in tornado
and hurracan avenues...
i want people to study clouds
and if i'm wrong about clouds being
the representation of how much
life sooths the point of preserving
a consciousness of existence:
as mobile as possible:
if we are to challenge ourselves to a post-existentialist
boxing match...
we have the arenas...
the observant 3rd Wave Migration Project...
but this pencil neck pusher of a "doctor":
how does social benefit work:
i delusional in thinking
i write these words for free while
getting the cRown's Employment and Support
Allowance:
i made it quiet plain:
i will dutifuly due this personalised propaganda
piece:
but only if i pretend to be mad
or at least understand madness:
yes i will become a bouncer
a poet-bouncer...

war has changed: it's all on informational bias
and basis of confrontation with comics
counter movies:
left comic books with the people who
didn't understand Nintendo and Atari and Comedore...
i can will people to
will me:
four days with crab pinching at my liver...
Oasis reunited: i talked
about Taylor Swift's bussiness model for
about 3 weeks...
subtle mimic of the Abba arena montage?
testing the real with fakery?
en masse as humans we do that:
fake it until you make it: pinch pinch:
crab clutter and pincer cluster...

this ****** is from Poland... Michal SZCZ'RZ... whatever
and... only now the ***** start climbing
out the bucket on dead bodies
of their fellow countrymen? Katyn: deserved to
have happened...

i was cannibalising my liver with anger:
it didn't hurt: as a male
my neuroticism is not a feeling
but a sensation: that's how men and women
differ:
how far have you fallen:
so abridged on the cross...
such fiction: climb down... dear actor:
we need now only to pretend who
directs the intellect behind
a Christ and the Green Mile:
Mile End:
two favorite stations of London:

Baker Street
   & Liverpool Street...

those are two of my favorite stations
Gants Hill: **** it...
that's my most stable port
no confict...
and two favorite lines:
the District and the Metropolitan lines...
Green and Claret:
no not Bakerloo Khaki...

with the power: to will:
i can... finally go beyond good and evil...
via... Jacob had the stairs leading
up:
me? i want to go into the Nevad... the Nevad...
the neverending will to understanding:
to return as a knowing creature...

the person who discovered Coca Cola
was Dr. John Stith Pemberton....
so no Jefferson, plague: pardon: so true...
but the owner:
the carbonated caramel drink
on one mile green...

i ask the question: a knocking on the floor:
an old man can't own up
to once being young...

*******... search engine: i saw what i was looking
for in the first place
it wasn't the pharmacist
it was someone wearing a boater...
  hat: not a kippah:
how there was a period of imitating Jews
and then came the Weimar Vanity
like the current Waking no Hour project
that is not so much viable as hetrosexuality
is being Apocalyptyically Undermined

just before sleep:
i think that's how you compenstate not reading
the book: adapted into film...
you have to rewatch the movie
with cut-off points...
today i finally managed to finish
watching the Green Mile:
i forget and forgot:
simultaneously...
to forget and i forgot...
pronouns can play such a crucial
problem for idiots who don't understand
grammar:
and how that sentence alone
proves the points that pronouns
are not... well: it's not like anyone
in Poland decided to
tear down the chimneys brick by brick...
of Auschwitz...
that argument no argument ad hoc cna still
be made...
how i utilize a pronoun is how
COGITO ERGO SUM exists...
withouth a mouth's full of ego...
                  these people are struggling...
i'm not making fun of them
these people are on the cliff's edge of understanding:
the great gap:
so the samurai chimpanze
and the wrestler gorilla
and the philosopher orangutan:
would have been as wise
or stupid:
for the slave trade to exist:
we only exported the idiot strength to
conjure America
and jazz was somehow just happenstane
to break from folk:
rememeber the rulers never used to have
music...
there were only deliberations
and tactics: talk talk...
rulers only discovered music via the classics
words congested into sounds...

the poor had music:
watch titanic...
look at how music is utilized...
when the Titanic sank...
rich people don't understand music:
no: rulers: don't understand music:
music is irrelevant:
apoligies Nietzsche:
from a pinched liver
to a sea of saliva and a toothache from
an iceberg... of a tooth...
it's not that i dropped the word rich...
without music life would make
no sense?
depends who you are within the confines
of music:
just a passive listener:
a Wagner's ******* and applause?
or are you...
the night-walker-night-eater...
i walk the night in order to eat it:
so as to illuminate...

   i have to conjure the German equivalent...
nachtwanderernachtesser...
            the green mile: i wouldn't mind
a... no no no...
all that is grand: the healing the feeding
of the people with two fish...
but... turn the other cheek?!
seriously?! can't you feel the earthquake
the dissonance: so otherwise,
law is a gimmick of oculus per oculus?
just take, *****! take it!
but no crime committed:
with persuasion a quake:
enough in the Green Mile to understand
the New Testament...

so we psychoanalyzed for a bit
while i waited for her to snore
and me allowed to not have *******
but who ****** these **** apes
that somehow man was spawned:
inferior in the capacity of body
to thus be injected these mutant harms
that also gave us
geniuses and the football crowd
of tribalistic men:
who ****** the monkey?!
who ****** the monkey?!
who ****** the monkey in order to create
the Key of Mammon...
this is a question of an angelic rhetoric-truant-theology

: well film:
sure... you can remedy not reading a novella:
thinking: it's Madame Bovary:
a long... a long novella...
but you can endure watching a film
based on a Novella:
if there is a screenplay...
and a movie to go with it...
i'm seriously underappreciative of Stephen
King...
i'm surprised that Noam Chomsky didn't
collaborate with Stephen Segal:
no no... forgot his name... Schindler's List:
oh: now i see it: Schinlder...
no... wait: lost the name: so maybe famous then...
but it's unlike Dune and
Lord of the Rings...
you can't exactly make a movie adaptation
of a book that dense...
i can show you a picture: teeth mould on the first
volume of Dune:
i want to get to Leto's narrative:
but the films made it impossible:
now if i want to read the novella for
Green Mile or the Shawshank Redemption:
i will not feel for persecuted by the film adaptation:
it will be unlike anything else:
i will be seeing the SKETCH:

herkunftgeschichte...

such a beautiful Friday night...
i don't need to bounce off people
and soulless:
but i can boa digest a soul of a Kafka
doctor narrative...
because i can: from the 28th that's
three days later:
my liver feels punched into a pouch
of resemblance to *****:
something necessary...
the binary of kidney:
can live with only:
but only one heart: one mind:
can live with one eye...

therefore the fractions are wholes
and fractions:
even numbers and fractions...
1 2 3 4 5 6
1 3 5
2 4 6
                                just thinking about what
five books to bring with me to Kauai...
Bertnard Russel's magnum opus...
Ezra Pound's Cantos? no! no! i'm in the middle
of writing a reply...
i still: blinked: who wasn't the pharmacist:
         Albert Hofmann's reinvention of the bicycle
in squiggly lines
too confined to brush on white a black
with color...

i see a resonance of red against blackness eaters
then flashes of green
in c=lage:
o=
             i see two wheels
working simultaneously...
0())(
and o=

                    now i see a poem
that could have been
now i see a poem that is:
and is to no ryhme:
and rhyme to the rhye of what is...

22:13....
i just forgot to party like an extrovert
and it's a Friday
and the metropolis is hungry
andf slaughter
is to be had...
but a girlfriend...
now wouldn't that be nice...
i forgot to put the music
but cycling is so different
in the gutter like the Jews
told to walk in the gutter
but i'm thinking:
what Darwinistic Sense Opt Out
we are surrounded
by the finalised testimonies of Evolution:
the fact that Ortangutans are
becoming extinct...
Earth is like the AustraliA
they just dumbed the idiot on this planet
retards: they i.e. us:
of the highest kind...
dumped us on this planet
they called Australius Apus...

what a vanity project: what hurt pride
of the sadist:
just a solipsist all along...
sadism and masochism are variations
of solipsism:
in Cartesian terms:
the res cogitans is the solipsist...
the res extensa is the sado-******* complex
to match: the military-industrial
complex of the ******* U.S.of>A!
get your woke back
get your woke back:
daddy's going to war!

— The End —