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NitaAnn Feb 2014
I am totally going mad- crazy – insane… Not that you wake up one morning and you’ve tumbled into the wonderland of insanity…no! Sadly, it is a slow and painful process. Fortunately no one is around at night to watch the horror show of Nita as it plays out. Since contact with and assistance from a Demonologist seems unlikely, perhaps a stake through the heart would work.

I’m terrible at a lot of things right now. I can’t seem to shake this horrible darkness. I can’t. It has applied for permanent residence and I’ve no idea how to evict it. And ******* if you say “medication” or “mindfullness” is the answer. And the ******* suicidal thoughts and general feelings of doom are compounded by the fact that I can never do anything right anymore. I seem to fail everybody that I care about.

And I can “plan” my life down to the minute… but the fact is that even when I make plans I cannot follow through with them because….listen carefully, I am too ******* mess up to do anything right. I just don’t care about anything anymore. I see my future stretched out before me and it’s the same pattern as the past…long depressing periods of self-hate and destruction followed by 10 minute of happiness and sense of accomplishing something. Really, there’s so little to look forward to- except more of the same. Endless years spent in isolation…cheery, eh?

What it all comes down too, really, is the overwhelming feelings of worthlessness. I wasn’t worth anything to anyone or someone would have noticed, someone would have cared, helped me, seen me. But I just didn’t matter. Everything else and everyone else mattered and I didn’t matter. I still feel that way. Hence the overwhelming thoughts of just ending it. It’s hard to want to live when all you can see are the ways you don’t matter. And yes, I get that there are a few people who care about me. And I am truly sorry to yet again disappoint.

I don’t matter. Rationally I know that I do matter a little to a couple of people. And they want me around. But that doesn’t change the fact that deep inside of me, I don’t believe it. I know they would be better off without my depressed self in their lives. I’m too tired. It’s too overwhelming to know that I’ll just keep fighting the same ******* battle of trying to unsuccessfully convince myself that I’m worth anything at all for the rest of my pointless ******* life. No thanks….

Besides, I’m tired. I feel old. Mostly, I’m just waiting around to die, anyway. It’s unbearably sad. I see myself from the outside and I think – what a waste. What a beautiful girl. What an empty life she leads. Poor lonely thing, she’ll never know that thrill of living, of actually feeling alive. If only she could have mattered maybe it could have been different. But she didn’t…
If you are reading this then I know you were one who cared. I am sorry to be a ******* *****-up and to repeatedly be a failure. That ends tonight. I wish there could be a happier ending to this story. I am soo sorry.
LVI Elapsed October 17th's Bore Witness
To A Girl Born With True Grit

Tuss ben big goo me newt to write
and how though trite
thine complex edifice immersed in spite
which doth nobody any good RIGHT
hence hie exerted effort
from within this quite

mindful sib bull ling to detach himself from his own plight
and fashion attempt (however feeble)
   to complete before this night
a communique (my apologies if thee cognition strikes thee
   with dumbfounded hard to comprehend patois),
   but perchance a mite

bit of the following - dashed off in a huff - epistle sheds light
on ceasing to ignore yourself (envious
   of yar fierce sticktowithiveness) scaling height
of apprehension (more insurmountable than  
   natural mountain peak, versus taking flight
and shuttering ye out of my humdrum life (orchestrated
   with mild sax and violins), yea not mooch to excite
but, this effort pressing fingers
   upon select keys eventually generated a byte
size message sent via FIOS fiber optic and mostly airtight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tis with great difficulty birthday cheer proffered,
when psyche still stung
by lash of acrimouny, calumny, effrontery, finality rung
humility indelicacy,...zealotry
as if spoken with glee from your tongue.
unwise to sustain estrangement caws
each of us imperfect, aye kin attest mine past awash with flaws,

and admit crushing impact felt from others,
especially late Zison inlaws
but, now yearly occasion of your birth opportunistic
   despite being annexed by anxiety based on uncertain laws
sans human behavior, how ye might respond,
   me owning modest kudos buffer as oopahs

   to risk brokering a detente (which avoidance
   toward thee) undermines cumulative,
endearing hur rahs
visited times gone by,
   which recent past found me unstoppably gurgling
   invariably vibrating uvulas
(yes, ja probably forgot, this bro' born
   a mutant Ninja Turtle) xy awes,

   speaking severe nasal sounds,
   when exhalation boyhood memory draws
obvious twang – another ace in the hole for bullies –
   gnashing identityguard where gauze
superfluous, and those hurtful ingrates lobbed words,

   when they may as well swang fists at me upper and lower jaws,
though decades in the past, the imprimatur indeibly etched,
   yet stinging rebukes from maws
and faux paws trigger remembrance of things past
   (analogous to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder -

in my case countless acromonious, denigrating, execrable names
contributed to Schizoid Personality Disorder –
though predisposition for sundry mental illness
most likely incsribed within mom and pop sic cull genes),
now greater  enlightenment reacting/responding to stress

comprehending my biology, chronology, ecology, geneaolgy
(fyi – Amelie paid consultant at 23andme.com for blueprint
denoting fabric housing jumbled, linkedin, nested past –
results surprisingly showed 1% Neanderthal
   comprise inherited) psychology,
thus explaining insatiable hunger for bananas,
and intermittant urge to swing from tree to tree,

whereby I willingly accept arboreal, corporeal,
   generallly less than ideal traits
which pro active overtures arrest
   (without a warrant), contest, assent everest
(albeit metaphorically) satisfactorily
   extending virtual olive branch (pitted)
recognize immutable imposibility to confront
   excrutciating bygone feelings,
this endeavor, a quest to test mine kempf zone, and endure

current flow of uneasiness (clammy
   and sweaty hands fostered by andiety),
yet exorcizing mailer demons critical
   to experience mindfullness, and requisite
to fast tract expeditious deliverence,
   whereat ye ought not be deprived

   THIS SIBLING (HAN SOLE BROTHER)
   WHOSE LOVE TOOTH HE
   (on account of dentures) DIDST OFTEN BESPEAK!
Ken Pepiton Aug 2022
Thorough, and thoroughly,

Nearly through, throughly true. If ifity fit ifity fit, pfft. Pfft,

Ifity fit not, no fit no fit, wait, sh-it fits, in time, today

-thoughtless of me, wordless, wait ‘but through...’ word. text

-we need e- lectric, mind, appawareness usually clicks time

Was a word as all words are, mere after thought, mere means to points with no lines in reason

We must record this moment, we the scribes and proper scholars, art’s great sifters, shifting screens and lenses,

Lo' looking loci-precise, sharp, pattern
- memory verses versus Youtube.

From a long forgotten dance.

In time we have no long ago, after ever – does what ever does – you know,

Just, justice, just makes no real

Sense one may take as common, as where all is fair, yes, es-sense, knowing more than mere names of things seen. Sounds, reasonable, eh.

If you bring a reason, to the table, why... would you expect to win a reasoning contest?

Writer chose heads. You give a reason, we test it on history, and lead your learning based on attention paid patterns over time. Ai is on our side. Life is openbook.

Do you think? Why can you read these letters literally only forms of sounds words would make, if you

Stop, Look, Listen, train town brain, mindfullness, oh yes, fashionable, aware being as a ware,  
YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE

Selah.  

Page Break


After a full life, per each idle word in books that burned, lifes works that burned in time,

All the songs copied for the choir, all the poor scriveners treasures, burned, as by

Midnight oil, from the brain pan of a great blue whale... back when

Capitalization, o, a ver-ified manmental tool to frame course corrections...

means (n.)

"course of action,"  
late 14c.,  
from mean (n.); sense of "wealth, resources at one's disposal for accomplishing some object" is recorded  
by c. 1600. Compare French moyens, German Mittel. Phrase by no means is attested from late 15c. Man of means is from 1620s. Means-test  
"official inquiry into the private resources of an applicant for public funds" is from 1930.

1 aha footnotes have been invented for poets...

Ok. You set the style, I wish this to be easily read, on any powered page displaying device. {yeah, who owns the air? This is published for peer review, ears hear, ah, then attend} Was it good for you?

-some times

Some times iusta dissipate

And that we find amusing, amaze

Zoom, doom, doom, freeways,

Free mean path. Why factored.

The advantage of being old by any standards common in history. Our species lives about this long, in the realm of measured things.

--- In the cultural patterns, vibes, radio active ifery evers

Candide, the referee and me.
Information, where we reign, really

Leibnizian reasons for evil.

Truth, as life’s mean free path.

-Voltaire, definitely, might agree with Heisenberg.

If it were ever said.

Evil is the best worst outcome,

Chaos is not evil, chance is best

Judge, we need to seem fair.

The wall in Shiloam, answering the reasoning of Voltaire, on the air,

Imagine that. Footnotes. Or xv

Ctrl x, then v, besure

I say exactly the same thing

… to dissolve the political bands which have connected them {the we} with another, and  
to assume  
among the powers  
of the earth, the separate and equal station  
to which the Laws  
of Nature and  
of Nature's God entitle them,  
{when all that occurs,  

in the course  

of human events,  

we are yet in, it seems,  

time being as it is,  

SYFT- fit slipt} {Balaam’s *** has the curley braces- note that} {} for vocalization...

-Yes, when in this course, of course... what were we agreeing... as this we,

- go on... say why


a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. {same we}

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, -

Ok, that gets us 1000.

Here, just west of the Pacific Crest, we all are in constant contact, in touch state, stated

Wait. 5G is, livewitit.

Nonsense, this is not the rescue mission statement.  

We are here for fun. Peace is fun. Makesum.

What we do, we, soldiers of the ancient orders, duty bound and regimentally religamental, do & die with honor to the code. We,  
the people who know how to believe all men are created equal to the task,  wombed or un, we die knowing
failure is no option, there is no longer any other ever this is before.

---- did that occur in your ever?

@ today, 2022 tehkne- of course, freedom at the quantum level must be means-tested, mmmhmmm tested, measured for sensitivity to we, being the judges... we who chose freedom, down low, deep pro-fundus-mundus lizard brain, mitochondrial link, yeh,

Phoneme, yah, who, yes, at best is spirit one may deem worth something, a breath, may being
may, as a word described, an action, being... here, mere is

As God is said to be described by Jesus, in the good news,

Made plain enough, to build a whole plethora of reasons for war.

War with reason, by faith, or by the code, that which must be true?

Drama, the idea, information acted out, without words,

Mimes in boxes, you know, you can admire the best performances, and thus imagine a purpose, break dance contests in the joint.

Yeah, and poetry slams, no curses, no spells

When I grow up... I’ coulda been a contender, any contest,

If it ever came down to life and soul, I never bet my soul, I bet yours, and I live,

So see if sense is all mortals imagine, or not... spirit- ual ‘n’al.
https://kenpepiton.com/?p=1370 -- Fantastic Fungi, five stars, as ever, Mushrooms. magi are aware, you are aware, of course,
this course includes Basic Mycelium Net Adaptation or Augmentation
BMNAA, eh? So you know.
David Noonan Dec 2016
How many thoughts go through your head on a simple drive...same road..same time. same life ..days..weeks..months..years.. .engine keeps whirling..wheels keep rolling..thoughts keep forming and releasing..living and dying..in isolation..in connection..all born of something..all disappearing to nothing.... A man came on the radio to Jagger in ‘64 to tell him how white his shirts can be..now they tell me of positivity, mindfulness, the search for self fulfillment..all these years later and what more does it say about my life..what more use than a whiter shirt..i ain't buying..i ain't playing..congratulations. congratulations. .well done..my facebook feed scrolls and scrolls..friends of friends I've never met..never will..new jobs..new rings ..Dubai, Chicago the chance of a lifetime..lives joined together as one. .everlasting love..everlasting happiness ..babies and pets..houses and debt.. congratulations..congratulations..so so happy for you..all good..all good..share and comment..but whose really living today. .whose really sharing the truth..where's the comment..where’s the reality...because it's never enough..it's just not enough.. And yet these thoughts keep coming..this blank road..this busy mind..and now winter is on its way ..cold finally setting in..and I think of you, but put you to the side..not for here..not for now..this is something else..this is I..who am I..never enough ..im just not enough..why oh why..it starts in the womb they say..starts at childhood..over protective parents..over bearing teachers.. fractured and brittle friendships..no freedom..no encouragement..no trust..be good..be safe..be what we want..it's what you'll want too.. but what when you know it's not..always and ever yet do it anyway ..what then..for its not enough..no its not enough. . why have I never known jealously ..nor never once felt envy..is that self worth..is that contentment or is it just more ambivalence..just an ever held lack of ambition..lack of desire.. stop thinking..stop thinking. there's more to life. who'll play left midfield on monday..can't wait..big game..defines the season..means everthing..means nothing ..gotta stop..pull in . parcel motel..collect package for her...quick snap that i got it ..you're great ..thanks a mill..was collecting a record anyway but never said..she doesn't need to know..white lies..little lies..guilty as charged..and she's started to paint ..why..what's she searching for there on that blank canvas.. filling it with a kaliediscope of abstract colours and shades of blues, greens and reds…all smiles..all flowers and perfect sunrises. will it be enough..i hope its enough..keep going..back to the car..pass a student..long hair and glasses under a big umbrella..now is her time..will she seize it..no regrets. nows the chance ...positivity ..mindfullness ..self fulfilment wished upon a perfect stranger but not sought for I ..contradictions .. contradictions ..in everthing I ever say and feel..back to the road..leave the city lights..welcome the falling autumn leaves ..where's the beauty..where's the change..the new..the future . a changing of a season upon us soon.. autumn browns to winter grey.. just the same old..same old.. when was the last time i looked forward to something..**** knows..what was it..**** knows..work is over..why think of it..what do they think of you there . conversations in the canteen..teenage discos..tut tutting all round..a chorus of disapproval..how could they leave their daughters out like that..all agree..all agree..not me..let them live..let them find themselves..let them be enough...let them be all they can be. do I even respect these people..do i even like most of them..how many days..how many years. am i liked there  .am i admired. am i respected…am I even known.. don't be naive..no one dares to care just as i don't of them or there . its all in a game…be nice..be professional . white shirts. pressed suits. Not enough. Never enough...how many minutes have passed..all these thoughts..Nothing decided. Nothing changed. Where's the beauty...where's the light..where's that dream to cling to..same journey..over and over..days and weeks and months and years. the gates of home..the musics final coda ..the last lines of a faded  favourite fantasy..cause love is tough..when enough is not enough

not enough

not enough

not enough
JD Leishman Mar 2019
PUBLIC NOTICE.

Warning the following is no longer acceptable in public areas.
Penalties will apply.

- No real individualism
- No individual beliefs
- No attempted collectivism
- No collected beliefs
- No obvious differences
- No global togetherness
- No personal preferences
- No educated mindfullness

Warning the following is now on the rise due to the above bans.
Devastation may occur.

- More terrorism
- More acts of terror
- More racialism
- More acts of horror
- More cold ******
- More acts of revenge
- More public disorder
- More lives will end

I am Jimmy.
larry mintz Nov 13
You feel like a flower thirsting for drink,
A flower in the desert,  mind  a foul well,
Relying  on others is not all so swell,
You feel like an anchor pulled down on the brink..
Anxiety flows in you up and down,
You  have weak muscles , call the doctor too,
  You  have chronic joint pains you are due,
Old life is dead; no time for  a meltdown .
The Sun does shine on all with or without strife,
And being happy  are   like colored flowers,
Bouquet of  flowers ,differ smell just as sweet
It is now a new beginning of your life
The practice of mindfullness empowers
And find hobbies too- find new folk to meet

— The End —