On the good days, the words flutter around like butterflies waiting patiently to be choosen.  Other days, the dark uncertain times, they swarm you like hornets, stinging you over and over again.  Making the words fall from your eyes like tears splashing onto the page. You can avoid the whole thing,  by being normal, choose the hallmark life, pre-made and hollow love, never know mad love, never go crazy.  Live  the easy life, never risk anything, stay far far away from the edge.  If you want to call that living.  Bee bites and butterfly kisses, you can't just choose one, you have to live with them both.  The light wings of love and the swollen  eyes and hands from the stingers in your heart and soul... That's my life, the life I want at least... sleeping in the mouth of madness.  Somedays... it hurts, painful heart-wrenching hurt, Somedays its just so ******* beautiful all you do is weep at being alive to witness it.  Beautiful pain and heart breaking love... mad mad love.  How's that song go...

"You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just may be a lunatic you're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me"

Is that the stones...No Joel you say, so you've heard it... but did you really listen, down in your gut far down below your ears.  See that's one of the problems of the easy life, they don't teach you to listen, really listen where it matters.  Deep down in your dark belly full of demons and monsters and devils, where all the do is listen and if you let them... they turn it all into mad love to keep you alive, really alive.  Not that fake life so many people are so desperate to live.  Every one so ******  afraid of letting a little pain or misery into their lives, all just wanting to be "happy".  Never learning or realizing what they end up missing out on.  A miserable life, there's a secret to it that they won't share with you.  To be miserable, truely  miserable... you have to be touched at least once, just once, by mad crazy stark raving lunatic mad love.  You have to have danced in the mountains of madness for just a second.  And that single touch and that single moment of dancing there among the lunatics of love... that kind of love, never leaves you.  It shoots straight to the marrow of your bones, the bottom of your bottomless heart, soaks into the darkness in the depths of your soul.  It may not stay in your arms or your bed, it may not last as long as it promised or you wanted... but it never just flat out leaves you.  It stays... after every other fire burns out, after every star falls from the sky, after the moon and sun commit their last act of love for each other and both drink each others poison, when the whole of existence just "poofs" and dissappears... That mad love will still be there.  And all those lucky lunatics who went mad and loved crazy will have it all to themselves... MmmHmmm, nothing but that Madness and love.  What a god forsaken beautiful **** fest of an **** that's going to be... just madness and love free from all the other *******, going at it like a couple of teens who just discovered the ability to ******.  And misery knows it, misey hates it.  Because misery can bend you over in a dark alley and take you by force... but misery goes away at just the hope of love, in the presence of love its nothing more than a mist and a ghost.  It might whisper to you behind loves back... but never face to face with love.  Misery is one of the merchants peddling the easy life with the pre-made hollow love and ideal of a happy safe life far away from that scary forbidden edge.  Don't fall for it... find your reason to go mad, find your passenger to drive laughing over the edge with.  Embrace your lunatic and fill your heart and your life with that mad mad love.  Be your miserable ******* self to the core and bitter end... if you need me, you can find me at the mouth of madness, just listen, you'll hear me singing, horribly and off key and out of tune, you can hear me singing to the moon.  You may not belive it, I know it sounds crazy... but baby your the one that saved me.  I'll be waiting here in this mad mad love you gave me... nothing beautiful left in this life for me to do... Thank you... I hope you know I love you.

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.

This feeling!
Mmmhmmm!
The way you crawl and scratch my throat,how you coach me during my chest workout sessions. taking you in is all I wanna do but I have to let you come out after a while...cos, love is not selfish

Doing anything, late in life, is for the moment.

No duty remains, all shirked, all left undone, long
ago passed down to the next hero's attempt.

Daily reminders from old mail lists, so and so died.

Yeah. So she did, so shall we all. I understand.

Each of us has a while, as each star has a while,
burning out from self's centermost being, shining

distant, single star, single mote lit for my looking,
first star wish, wished, and wished, and wished,

in vain,
at Venus.

-------------------

With myself, alone, listening,
hearing a human ****** interpret a novel,
a told tale of plottable inter-essential new

points of views, from within the author's mind,

seen and said, seen. Look
see the worth of such words, an authority

describing the scene, bringing life from words.

Telling thought shared as if,
if itself, the if in all we must imagine, saying

this is plenty, genug enough, this in us state,
as an awesome thing of many minds, elohimish,

in this atmosphere we breathe in harmony,
as each breath extends the reach of each word…

wouldn't we willingly want wishing work, word
work, daily dues to pay, waking, wishing, will
would
you join the dance?

Did you laugh? Life is all game.

----------------

Slow knowing, seeing guns,

thinking game plotted paths,
rewarding reality with possibilities,

triumphant miniature thrill of victory…

essence of history, we won, we won, we won.

And then, the new formed governing mind,
the officially united, naturally selfish mind

representing those whose national will,
continues to revere the pioneer, pawn

queened, by no more noble cause than,
following the rules used to progress,

across the board, each step a stage
in the game, scaled to seem relatable

to royal rules uses made of lower worth
pieces in the arsenal of this one, black,
against that one, white…

clearly… contrasting points at the edge
of the grayscale, light's own, none to all,

whoa,
look, in broad day light, light
alone, lacks any gray but  
in reflection, none
from our sun.

----------------------

Some axiom from our Hallmarked past,
tells us to hang in there… hold the line,

only find time to filter for wisdom, enough

to imagine making up a mind from nothing,
Helen Keller had touch, imagine a spirit's mind,
intangible,
made up
from mere words as metaphors, holding
thoughts, thoughts called feelings, but not,

thoughts, states of patient grace, thoughts, if

we both think, between each letter, those thoughts

in the realm between us, in the medium of thoughts…

no eyes or ears or fingers, even so, imagine
knowing all the time redeemed for now,
is being used to make us useful, hmmm,

as om, oh my, ahh-ooom, mmmhmmm, soon….

Makes no difference,
we think as if difference is essential,

day by day, difference referring to load,

how worth thinking is a line of reason?

-----------
Behold the happy thought,
hooking hope where no hope was imagined.

What harm? None done, none intended,
none available for take away.