"pfc" poems - Hello Poetry

I was taught in science that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, and is simply manipulated into different forms and transferred to other objets. In Psychology I was taught about the pre-frontal cortex, and how it houses the emotions of the human soul, and about the hippocampus which carefully extracting these emotions into long term memory so they can live forever. I wasn’t taught how these emotions were conserved. I started wondering to myself, where the **** do the emotions one puts into another go? Can emotions be created or destroyed inside the pre-frontal cortex? Or are they simply transferred from mine to yours, which allows you to put effort into someone else, leaving my emotional remnants to manipulate themselves into pain? Am I able to transfer my feelings into your PFC so they can spark a reaction with whats inside and manipulate them into something different? Maybe thats how mutual feelings come about. But would it not work if your necessary reactants have already been transferred elsewhere? I assume my emotions would react with your painful remnants to leave you neutral again, giving you the choice to forget him or feed him a bit more. Then how the **** do the feelings of one change as time goes on? I assume that infatuation never completes its journey to the hippocampus and simply passes through the PFC. But how do emotions get manipulated into something negative after the rare chance that they complete the savage journey to the long term chamber? The intermolecular forces of the bond created between us possibly gets overcome by something more powerful. Something that has been freshly transferred into the PFC of one of the emotional bond carriers; like fear, or the emotional energy of someone new, and she’ll tell him “it wasn’t meant to be” Which explains how you can move on whilst I can’t as my bond is also broken, but without consent, my their emotions to go haywire and destroy my psyche as they’re not bonded to anything. I’m “broken”. Although the intermolecular forces of the emotions inside your PFC have been overcome and manipulated into something new, the old emotional bonds still exist in her hippocampus, as well as his. Emotions will constantly haunt me from there, creating constant relapse as the painful memories are resurrected and transferred back into his PFC. They’ll haunt you too, possibly reacting with your current state to create regret. Either regret of breaking the bonds or forming them in the first place. I’ll reach a neutral state again, and you will have your turn to be broken when emotions from someone else are transferred respectively. But we’ll never forget each other. So i guess love never dies. Only active love. As the emotions in the hippocampus are set in stone whilst that in the PFC are transferred and manipulated, just like matter, and energy. After all, we are just matter, with energy.

0

Dec 21, 2014

Dec 21, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC

jesse-alexander

Law of Conservation of Emotion

I was taught in science that matter and energy cannot be created or destroyed, and is simply manipulated into different forms and transferred to other objets. In Psychology I was taught about the pre-frontal cortex, and how it houses the emotions of the human soul, and about the hippocampus which carefully extracting these emotions into long term memory so they can live forever. I wasn’t taught how these emotions were conserved. I started wondering to myself, where the **** do the emotions one puts into another go? Can emotions be created or destroyed inside the pre-frontal cortex? Or are they simply transferred from mine to yours, which allows you to put effort into someone else, leaving my emotional remnants to manipulate themselves into pain? Am I able to transfer my feelings into your PFC so they can spark a reaction with whats inside and manipulate them into something different? Maybe thats how mutual feelings come about. But would it not work if your necessary reactants have already been transferred elsewhere? I assume my emotions would react with your painful remnants to leave you neutral again, giving you the choice to forget him or feed him a bit more. Then how the **** do the feelings of one change as time goes on? I assume that infatuation never completes its journey to the hippocampus and simply passes through the PFC. But how do emotions get manipulated into something negative after the rare chance that they complete the savage journey to the long term chamber? The intermolecular forces of the bond created between us possibly gets overcome by something more powerful. Something that has been freshly transferred into the PFC of one of the emotional bond carriers; like fear, or the emotional energy of someone new, and she’ll tell him “it wasn’t meant to be” Which explains how you can move on whilst I can’t as my bond is also broken, but without consent, my their emotions to go haywire and destroy my psyche as they’re not bonded to anything. I’m “broken”. Although the intermolecular forces of the emotions inside your PFC have been overcome and manipulated into something new, the old emotional bonds still exist in her hippocampus, as well as his. Emotions will constantly haunt me from there, creating constant relapse as the painful memories are resurrected and transferred back into his PFC. They’ll haunt you too, possibly reacting with your current state to create regret. Either regret of breaking the bonds or forming them in the first place. I’ll reach a neutral state again, and you will have your turn to be broken when emotions from someone else are transferred respectively. But we’ll never forget each other. So i guess love never dies. Only active love. As the emotions in the hippocampus are set in stone whilst that in the PFC are transferred and manipulated, just like matter, and energy. After all, we are just matter, with energy.

23

fallen warrior's dying gaze . . . blurry sun she braids gold rays gilded strands grace Avrey’s hair misty tear-pooled stare . . . Dodoitsu. 7-7-7-5 (26) syllables gv .2015 Pfc. B.V. , a 22 year old mother of a little girl named Avrey was Killed in 2010, by an IED, RPG attack near Kunar province, (145 military women killed as of April.1.2013 in Afghanistan, Iraq & Kuwait

0

May 4, 2018

May 4, 2018 at 10:22 AM UTC

george-vct

braiding gold rays of the sun

fallen warrior's dying gaze . . . blurry sun she braids gold rays gilded strands grace Avrey’s hair misty tear-pooled stare . . . Dodoitsu. 7-7-7-5 (26) syllables gv .2015 Pfc. B.V. , a 22 year old mother of a little girl named Avrey was Killed in 2010, by an IED, RPG attack near Kunar province, (145 military women killed as of April.1.2013 in Afghanistan, Iraq & Kuwait

9

From: ex PFC Shierling, J. 16 CAB S-2 Analyst To: Screwtape, Undersecretary, Hell CENTCOM Date: 2015/02/14 Subject: Poor Methodology My Dear Screwtape, I must congratulate you on the position you've managed to hold intact for so many years. A fantastic strategic gamble to allow your correspondence with your nephew Wormword to have become published. The Patient's individual soul may have been taken in by your Enemy Himself, but the allowance of C.S. Lewis to come by those letters and publish them served you very well in it's purpose I suppose. Those souls already lost to your Enemy were confirmed, but those teetering on the edge of belief and hope in Him were turned away by such a blatant portrayal of human fallacies. Truly, your gamble may have been worth it...time will yet tell. But Screwtape, or whichever of his underlings has been assigned to break me, my own life is all I am responsible for. It's a great weapon you devised, this idea that individual humans are responsible for the actions of our entire race, that one of us is guilty of all. Yes indeed, self hate is the quickest way to your master's chains. Honestly though, your CENTCOM failed in the directives and the propaganda they fed you. Though you and your underlings may have experienced the War in Heaven, and that terrible retreat to the outer realm, I can say with absolute certainty that you were deceived in the beginning. I am imperfect, and everyday that I live I know this, and I also know that I will never be able to know the things that your Great Enemy knows, but I accept this. Nothing that you and your kind can do to me shall prevent me from looking to the stars, no pain could your broken spirits do unto me to take my hope in my Father, who is also called Love. And yet, weren't you punished by your own Chain-of-Command? Were you not tortured by those you gave loyalty to for giving Wormwood your nephew advise about your Enemy. Perhaps I, being human, have no right to cast judgement upon those who have walked about my people. All I have left to write tonight; should you grow tired of the horrors you and your kin live every day...ask of me, and we shall welcome you among those yet seeking.

0

Feb 14, 2015

Feb 14, 2015 at 3:56 AM UTC

jon-daniel-shierling

Transmission

From: ex PFC Shierling, J. 16 CAB S-2 Analyst To: Screwtape, Undersecretary, Hell CENTCOM Date: 2015/02/14 Subject: Poor Methodology My Dear Screwtape, I must congratulate you on the position you've managed to hold intact for so many years. A fantastic strategic gamble to allow your correspondence with your nephew Wormword to have become published. The Patient's individual soul may have been taken in by your Enemy Himself, but the allowance of C.S. Lewis to come by those letters and publish them served you very well in it's purpose I suppose. Those souls already lost to your Enemy were confirmed, but those teetering on the edge of belief and hope in Him were turned away by such a blatant portrayal of human fallacies. Truly, your gamble may have been worth it...time will yet tell. But Screwtape, or whichever of his underlings has been assigned to break me, my own life is all I am responsible for. It's a great weapon you devised, this idea that individual humans are responsible for the actions of our entire race, that one of us is guilty of all. Yes indeed, self hate is the quickest way to your master's chains. Honestly though, your CENTCOM failed in the directives and the propaganda they fed you. Though you and your underlings may have experienced the War in Heaven, and that terrible retreat to the outer realm, I can say with absolute certainty that you were deceived in the beginning. I am imperfect, and everyday that I live I know this, and I also know that I will never be able to know the things that your Great Enemy knows, but I accept this. Nothing that you and your kind can do to me shall prevent me from looking to the stars, no pain could your broken spirits do unto me to take my hope in my Father, who is also called Love. And yet, weren't you punished by your own Chain-of-Command? Were you not tortured by those you gave loyalty to for giving Wormwood your nephew advise about your Enemy. Perhaps I, being human, have no right to cast judgement upon those who have walked about my people. All I have left to write tonight; should you grow tired of the horrors you and your kin live every day...ask of me, and we shall welcome you among those yet seeking.

6

Am I winning? Have I won? Am I living? Yes, I am. Am I living? Yes, I am Have I lived? Yes I have Lo, and be hold beholden’ on this is the future, my future, your now, you may change what comes next, but my bit of this idea was thought some time ago. ---- say stretch, tendere, eh, say stretch yo’ sorry ol’ attent-attention three sibling boys march past me counting cadence, 30 per hup two three --- why is this so easy to see as real in any boy I ever knew, the boy who leads is 12, the sarge is 8, pfc is 5, War, The idea of war, itself, an imagined anthropomorph in many fantasy experiences, in tranced story-wise, tuned to the game as to life, these see war as game theory, rage from another age lurks among the liars, there flattened on the inner edge of the wall they wished to form from fear and hate idea viruses. Yes, Seth’s original strain, pure conjectural objects orienting precepticons… Can you see me now? Am I living? Yes, I am. Ecce **** Augmento. Yah. You may say… whoso ever or who so ever or whosoever makes peace appear as here, at this point, in time we think of as then and now, you know. Wake up, take your watch.

0

Nov 24, 2021

Nov 24, 2021 at 7:40 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Marking Time In Gratitude

Am I winning? Have I won? Am I living? Yes, I am. Am I living? Yes, I am Have I lived? Yes I have Lo, and be hold beholden’ on this is the future, my future, your now, you may change what comes next, but my bit of this idea was thought some time ago. ---- say stretch, tendere, eh, say stretch yo’ sorry ol’ attent-attention three sibling boys march past me counting cadence, 30 per hup two three --- why is this so easy to see as real in any boy I ever knew, the boy who leads is 12, the sarge is 8, pfc is 5, War, The idea of war, itself, an imagined anthropomorph in many fantasy experiences, in tranced story-wise, tuned to the game as to life, these see war as game theory, rage from another age lurks among the liars, there flattened on the inner edge of the wall they wished to form from fear and hate idea viruses. Yes, Seth’s original strain, pure conjectural objects orienting precepticons… Can you see me now? Am I living? Yes, I am. Ecce **** Augmento. Yah. You may say… whoso ever or who so ever or whosoever makes peace appear as here, at this point, in time we think of as then and now, you know. Wake up, take your watch.

46

Lawrence Hall, HSG [email protected] Those Who Stereotype “These Professors” Exodus 20:16 These professors Dr. Moriarty was a PFC on certain Pacific islands Who could bayonet an enemy Clear a jammed machine gun under fire See his pals blown to pieces next to him And work out subtle textual analyses These professors Dr. Chambers was a retired colonel of Marines A natty little man in blazer and bowtie Who could bayonet an enemy See his pals blown to pieces next to him Deconstruct the minutiae of energy distribution And toss a foul-mouthed football player out on his sorry *** These professors Dr. Dale was a butcher until his thirties When he entered college for the first time He knew your hamburger from the outside in The economics of building a business He probably could have bench-pressed a Ford Fiesta And when he spoke of Wordsworth, Keats, and Coleridge You could feel the air of The Lake Country These professors “These professors” were complete men Strong in war and word and wisdom and work Unlike envious Unferths who learn life only second-hand From Fox News and John Wayne movies And closed loops of echoing InterGossip sites

0

Jul 14, 2024

Jul 14, 2024 at 10:32 AM UTC

lawrence-hall

"These Professors"

Lawrence Hall, HSG [email protected] Those Who Stereotype “These Professors” Exodus 20:16 These professors Dr. Moriarty was a PFC on certain Pacific islands Who could bayonet an enemy Clear a jammed machine gun under fire See his pals blown to pieces next to him And work out subtle textual analyses These professors Dr. Chambers was a retired colonel of Marines A natty little man in blazer and bowtie Who could bayonet an enemy See his pals blown to pieces next to him Deconstruct the minutiae of energy distribution And toss a foul-mouthed football player out on his sorry *** These professors Dr. Dale was a butcher until his thirties When he entered college for the first time He knew your hamburger from the outside in The economics of building a business He probably could have bench-pressed a Ford Fiesta And when he spoke of Wordsworth, Keats, and Coleridge You could feel the air of The Lake Country These professors “These professors” were complete men Strong in war and word and wisdom and work Unlike envious Unferths who learn life only second-hand From Fox News and John Wayne movies And closed loops of echoing InterGossip sites

31

. Fifty years ago to the month that they laid you in the ground . Only now have I found the words to make a sound . You came home closed coffin bound Not suitable to be viewed . Only now do I frown Thinking about the name in stone that's hewed . That day you died I was left to cry I didn't know what to do . Two teenage lives both said goodbye never to be again . One under 21 gun salute The other under pain . They are still burying you in my mind my time has been unkind . I've lived through a thousand deaths looking for reasons to find . Resigned I am bound by the truth of October '69 Dedicated to : Marine PFC William Le Grand Dawes Born 6/24/50 Died 10/19/69 Quang Ngai Province Vietnam

0

Oct 27, 2019

Oct 27, 2019 at 9:45 AM UTC

South-by-Southwest

Fifty Years

. Fifty years ago to the month that they laid you in the ground . Only now have I found the words to make a sound . You came home closed coffin bound Not suitable to be viewed . Only now do I frown Thinking about the name in stone that's hewed . That day you died I was left to cry I didn't know what to do . Two teenage lives both said goodbye never to be again . One under 21 gun salute The other under pain . They are still burying you in my mind my time has been unkind . I've lived through a thousand deaths looking for reasons to find . Resigned I am bound by the truth of October '69 Dedicated to : Marine PFC William Le Grand Dawes Born 6/24/50 Died 10/19/69 Quang Ngai Province Vietnam

57