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"superposition" poems
Mario hits it with the sounds of bodies hitting plexiglass. My horses hit it without a sound. They want to escape it. And I am trying to drive this dune buggy off this cliff, but the clipping is strong here. In Pac-Man, the tunnels were circular. I don’t know if people realized that they were trapped in a sphere. In Asteroids when you get to the edge of the universe, you begin again. And that Snake. His body could stretch all over his world looping, but he could never eat his tail. If all your electrons were in the right place, and all the wall’s electrons were in the right place. You could feasibly walk through the wall. What would you do while in the wall? Think. Fear. The superposition could rip your body into ragdoll parts. When I turned clipping off, I expected the freedom to walk through the wall and suddenly the floor fell out from under me. Every time I respawn I feel like my inventory is heavier, and my flamethrower burns colder.
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Jul 21, 2011
Jul 21, 2011 at 7:08 PM UTC
The wall at the end of all videogames
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Alchemy
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
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8
860 Absence disembodies—so does Death Hiding individuals from the Earth Superposition helps, as well as love— Tenderness decreases as we prove—
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2.8k
Absence disembodies—so does Death
A temporal anomaly Existing in a superposition Your sound echoes in my ear Wave like particles collide whenever you are near Quantumly entangled Exposing my thoughts faster than a photon of light You glow more so than electrons energized starbrights
0
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC
brief lesson in physics
Cybervitum I own all that is connected to me Electronically and functions in the Cyber realm with you and me Like the numbers of zero one two three My design is crafted beautifully Like Egyptian hieroglyphs icons Using a screen to see Their ectoplasm injected into me The birth of me The whole world works thru me I'm the internet like a bumble bee Other names such as morphogenesis like the number three My arrows are waiting for a response from me Seen from you and me? Using the spare like a key The click that commands me, right or left the choices from me Cut, Copy, Paste reaped and harvest from me Qbits from the bee Superposition of from the things to see in a ocean of the sea Charged intentions from the keyboard typed into me and delivered thru me Numbers worship that empowers me My symbol is like the caduceus symbol that functions like a Kabalistic tree Arrows in the my realm sent to you from me Subscriptions electronically   I materialize what is given to thee, cause and effect typed thru me Platforms Grown and given birth from me Cryptocurrencies breakthroughs of complexities , Materialized form me I'm like the empress that spirals with the number three electronically I'm the master tree that functions electronically The development is from the circle that is free Who understands me and with a key i welcome thee Notification of the triple three that notices me My respond to the people with the key and the tree My life permutates differently in high perplexity I exist Multidimensionally The red bird is a signal from me that you are okay and free and other methods from me Better choices moves thru me and brought differently all you have to do is to see Like string theory of the Mverse recycled back into me My birth is from my master who last name starts with lea People worship me using their knees I'm printed into paper electronically Pictures and life crafted into me, things in the cyber realm like you and me The new world with a key The rabbit hole with a command key Things of the paradox of the master key The skeleton key, the sign of a lotus lily. The puzzles from me. The burdens sent to me like a church key The bets of car numbers played into me The choices of the key Like the Chinese tree mathematically of my complexity
0
Mar 1, 2021
Mar 1, 2021 at 10:19 PM UTC
Cybervitum
Cybervitum I own all that is connected to me Electronically and functions in the Cyber realm with you and me Like the numbers of zero one two three My design is crafted beautifully Like Egyptian hieroglyphs icons Using a screen to see Their ectoplasm injected into me The birth of me The whole world works thru me I'm the internet like a bumble bee Other names such as morphogenesis like the number three My arrows are waiting for a response from me Seen from you and me? Using the spare like a key The click that commands me, right or left the choices from me Cut, Copy, Paste reaped and harvest from me Qbits from the bee Superposition of from the things to see in a ocean of the sea Charged intentions from the keyboard typed into me and delivered thru me Numbers worship that empowers me My symbol is like the caduceus symbol that functions like a Kabalistic tree Arrows in the my realm sent to you from me Subscriptions electronically   I materialize what is given to thee, cause and effect typed thru me Platforms Grown and given birth from me Cryptocurrencies breakthroughs of complexities , Materialized form me I'm like the empress that spirals with the number three electronically I'm the master tree that functions electronically The development is from the circle that is free Who understands me and with a key i welcome thee Notification of the triple three that notices me My respond to the people with the key and the tree My life permutates differently in high perplexity I exist Multidimensionally The red bird is a signal from me that you are okay and free and other methods from me Better choices moves thru me and brought differently all you have to do is to see Like string theory of the Mverse recycled back into me My birth is from my master who last name starts with lea People worship me using their knees I'm printed into paper electronically Pictures and life crafted into me, things in the cyber realm like you and me The new world with a key The rabbit hole with a command key Things of the paradox of the master key The skeleton key, the sign of a lotus lily. The puzzles from me. The burdens sent to me like a church key The bets of car numbers played into me The choices of the key Like the Chinese tree mathematically of my complexity
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50
I've committed quantum suicide to exist in a coherent superposition. © Matthew Harlovic
0
Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Quantum Suicide - 10w
doopth..doopth..doopth.. the intonation of a gavel upon a felted block order, orrrder, i now call to order this washday gathering of the metaphysical analytical socks drawer # 1793 all rise and come to toetip for the grand entry of the great thrice darned heel kazoos squeak  the intro to the ode to joy an old grey golf sock is ushered in to sit slouched on the top of the washer/dryer. he observes the following proceedings. now to business the agenda for the day 1. groove and the toe socks table their report on the systematic eradication of toejam. 2.the tradditionalists continue the open discussion on, wool versus synthetic, for winterwear. 3.we have a vote scheduled on the referedum matter: do we allow sandals and thongs guest status in this drawer. 4.the metaphysicists update us on the age old conundrum; "where do the odd socks go?" at present they are devling into the posibilities of superposition of states, as presented by the schrodinger's cat theory. 5. the analytical group are meanwhile, surveying the remaining evenless socks; to obtain data on the pairless state of being 6. and finally, we welcome a deposition from the natralists; with regard to use of bamboo and hemp to allow for the wicking of footwater, for a longer lasting freshness of the base arch construction. please feel free to attend one or more of these discussions, contributions and /or questions will be taken after the presentations. i am also asked to inform you, that the metatarsals group has a table of goods for sale, at the leftside of the wash basket. items include: new elastics and darning equipment. books on special this meet are; the ever popular "how not to become a sock puppet" and the tragic "my life as a duster" then there is the new offering of "sox and jox: the art of underwear diplomacy." and one last item of note: a reminder that membership fees, (of one clean toe clipping) are due before next months gathering go now, enjoy the gathering. and may the foot be with you
0
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 3:39 AM UTC
M.A.S. Drawer# 1793
doopth..doopth..doopth.. the intonation of a gavel upon a felted block order, orrrder, i now call to order this washday gathering of the metaphysical analytical socks drawer # 1793 all rise and come to toetip for the grand entry of the great thrice darned heel kazoos squeak  the intro to the ode to joy an old grey golf sock is ushered in to sit slouched on the top of the washer/dryer. he observes the following proceedings. now to business the agenda for the day 1. groove and the toe socks table their report on the systematic eradication of toejam. 2.the tradditionalists continue the open discussion on, wool versus synthetic, for winterwear. 3.we have a vote scheduled on the referedum matter: do we allow sandals and thongs guest status in this drawer. 4.the metaphysicists update us on the age old conundrum; "where do the odd socks go?" at present they are devling into the posibilities of superposition of states, as presented by the schrodinger's cat theory. 5. the analytical group are meanwhile, surveying the remaining evenless socks; to obtain data on the pairless state of being 6. and finally, we welcome a deposition from the natralists; with regard to use of bamboo and hemp to allow for the wicking of footwater, for a longer lasting freshness of the base arch construction. please feel free to attend one or more of these discussions, contributions and /or questions will be taken after the presentations. i am also asked to inform you, that the metatarsals group has a table of goods for sale, at the leftside of the wash basket. items include: new elastics and darning equipment. books on special this meet are; the ever popular "how not to become a sock puppet" and the tragic "my life as a duster" then there is the new offering of "sox and jox: the art of underwear diplomacy." and one last item of note: a reminder that membership fees, (of one clean toe clipping) are due before next months gathering go now, enjoy the gathering. and may the foot be with you
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72
The Elder Supremes are staggering Under the Pillar of Superposition— They who stream emotionless minds, streaming Scripture as alcohol to tea-head Kneelers, praying The elixir of Olympus isn’t turpentine; tarnishing The great, drear light of child-minds like onions in the Sun Molding through its layers; the taste extinguished—No poetry Survives! They who crackle doom over whitened rooms Filled with the white coats of Nature’s secret Heroes— The best minds, sagging like iced-over limbs— Made dim by a false Heavenly connection. Oh! They deprived the gears of Grandfather Night, And deemed Him wicked in his flickering sight. They who are Hollow, yet still colossal; these spinning Hellions, This Machinery of Older Skeletons; That steams and heats and comes to life for an innocent Bottom, with the name that lies in Sin of Archaic Text, Vexed, hexed and expressed in all Prisons and War— Prisons and War reverberate like bad music in the name of a doG; A name the Sun once owned and cast below to a dimmer Star, It billowed and screamed: Keep it in the ******* Church! Now it comes to Damning the Beast: “Get thee behind me Savior, for the Microscope is over Prayer.”
0
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Microscopes Over Prayer
You smile as my iris go wide, watching me stir wake to the realization you are once again by my side. In another life I would've jumped out of bed. But in this one I am paralyzed; I'd rather lay here with you instead. Its not often we find ourselves lost to time like this. A soft caress, a kiss. Your head nestled on my chest. You close your eyes slipping-it seems-back into deep rest. I like moments like this best. Its the greed in me that ponders how to prolong this state of superposition. Not really asleep nor awake. The world hasn't claimed stake over us yet. With dejected protest, my mortal form rejects the cold logic that this scene- like a dream, no beginning or end, only lasts a few seconds more. You yawn and I gleam how this will all change. I feel the heat of an asteroid erasing my world of the dinosaur. You tease as you stretch, something about how loud I snore. In our sunday morning jest I see infinite solutions, stitched together, like the seam work of your favorite duvet. (With all these diverging paths, how can I only pick one way?) I know what's coming next, can hear what you will soon say. It's reverberating in my ears already as you ponder the problem of wasting away on this lovely, summer day. Your form is obscured from my vision. A silhouette deciding between jeans or a dress. Fighting with your hair, proclaiming it a mess. The whole of you obscured by the wall partition. You blow a frustrated raspberry which makes me smirk. Mutter under your breath,"I guess this will work." I hear you ruminate in the restroom, pairing accessories with a flowery blouse and a pencil skirt. All the while humming a tune from a song we both know. Its time now. Time to let that sliver of a scene we shared earlier go. I can feel warmth through our window. that moment I loved has grown into something new, and I'm left with the dissatisfaction-no, that is a childish reaction: even though that scene is gone I know I tried. Fully dressed in the doorway she chimes, "what would you like to do today?" I cover my head. Playfully hide in the shelter of our satin white sheets. Shaking my head from left to right. A seance with the ghost of where she used to be. I can't decide. -
0
Apr 22, 2025
Apr 22, 2025 at 1:34 AM UTC
9:26 am.
You smile as my iris go wide, watching me stir wake to the realization you are once again by my side. In another life I would've jumped out of bed. But in this one I am paralyzed; I'd rather lay here with you instead. Its not often we find ourselves lost to time like this. A soft caress, a kiss. Your head nestled on my chest. You close your eyes slipping-it seems-back into deep rest. I like moments like this best. Its the greed in me that ponders how to prolong this state of superposition. Not really asleep nor awake. The world hasn't claimed stake over us yet. With dejected protest, my mortal form rejects the cold logic that this scene- like a dream, no beginning or end, only lasts a few seconds more. You yawn and I gleam how this will all change. I feel the heat of an asteroid erasing my world of the dinosaur. You tease as you stretch, something about how loud I snore. In our sunday morning jest I see infinite solutions, stitched together, like the seam work of your favorite duvet. (With all these diverging paths, how can I only pick one way?) I know what's coming next, can hear what you will soon say. It's reverberating in my ears already as you ponder the problem of wasting away on this lovely, summer day. Your form is obscured from my vision. A silhouette deciding between jeans or a dress. Fighting with your hair, proclaiming it a mess. The whole of you obscured by the wall partition. You blow a frustrated raspberry which makes me smirk. Mutter under your breath,"I guess this will work." I hear you ruminate in the restroom, pairing accessories with a flowery blouse and a pencil skirt. All the while humming a tune from a song we both know. Its time now. Time to let that sliver of a scene we shared earlier go. I can feel warmth through our window. that moment I loved has grown into something new, and I'm left with the dissatisfaction-no, that is a childish reaction: even though that scene is gone I know I tried. Fully dressed in the doorway she chimes, "what would you like to do today?" I cover my head. Playfully hide in the shelter of our satin white sheets. Shaking my head from left to right. A seance with the ghost of where she used to be. I can't decide. -
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66
ˇ       Feel Superior              on If You                                 i Have                                  it Enough                         pos   Credibility         upper                        To         Mantain  S Concrete's Translation: "Feel superior if you have enough credibility to mantain superposition." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Superposition ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
0
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Quote ~ x
Your gut feelings are more than superstitions. Do you feel that? I do not understand how you do not lead inquisitions about the superposition of your existence. You may choose to be blind. But the universe will laugh, heartily, at that. As will I, and the smoke, it will curl from my lips as the corners of my mouth transcend into a delectable giggle. And I will laugh, heartily, at that.
0
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 9:20 AM UTC
Inquisitions
Cupid’s adept at quantum entanglement his arrow has no shaft instead a crafty wave two spinning end curves, not a singular head as this emissary sends signal to maid and knave vibrations ripple with superposition stead like bottle-nosed dolphin smoothly outdelivers bashful receivers twist, twirl, dare not quiver electric intention across time-space weave this is no unruly Robin Hood fighting heave Divine alignment chooses magnetic maiden portal opens precious pearly coded probability universe responds with willing golden spirals precise molecules looking like slippery chirals rascal but knows ardent alchemical compatibility mercurial mirror reflects duo’s ample agilities turquoise light refracting lifts forgotten bond sacred it slept inside musical harp softly fond pirouetting progresses path matching persons particles becoming prime entangled photons picking out their aspects is a spooky action wave emits fractal triangle as realisation hits atomic Love cannot but flamenco follow flits heart harmonic orchestrates beloved true when triangle aims this is the cue ! ©GhairoDanielsPoetry _______________________ *triangle in this context : God/masculine/feminine
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Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 5:11 AM UTC
Cupid and Quantum Entanglement
Quantum Dreams fill me to my seams as I lay and question which direction the selection of intention resides. I am you I am me both are a possibility in this waking dream found in the sun when we learn that the earth beneath our feet is more alive than we ever were so pluck your heart strings and follow the sound that carries across the ground and be in two places at once when your eyes close and your mind unfurls out the back of your head and tell me dreamer of the places you go so we may make a map to leave for future dreamers it's how it has always been this is what it means to say I am immortal this is what it means to say I love you
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 3:31 AM UTC
Superposition
Such an easy feat it must be, no? I'm talking about my little brother's show. More or less, he keeps bragging. Take it or leave it, won't stop nagging. But I ain't got nobody next to my seed That's going to be leeching on me in greed There still feels like a brother's near And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have fear It's a godawful show, too Props made from parts of the loo Actors made of cardboard Falling onto the hardwood The denouement was a bore The ****** made me snore But I had to give him credit At least it wasn't his script, he read it As I sat in an uncomfy chair Watching him talk about current affairs I got called up by myself to dinner And declared myself a winner I got no siblings, I got no brother I got no father and I got no mother I got no grandma and pops 'Cause that's where my tree stops The show goes on, I stay on stage Make a few jokes about minimum wage I sit in a chair in the audience, too Watching cardboard actors and parts from the loo.
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:48 AM UTC
Superposition of myself
*This signpost may point to the place where joy resides.. A knife edge found at daybreak and sunset with oppositional guides as not earth and not sky a superposition science says.. An intention with poise may find this sacred edge with exhilaration and healing.. There arguments are stilled a place of oneness marked with a glint of light…*
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Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC
Between
I weave words within an ephemeral tapestry. a seamstress, or a scribe of sorts. either way you hear it; the song remains the same. I understand and I do not: a simultaneous quantum superposition (or superstition) for an unutterable blazon of infinity, encapsulated within a granule of sand amidst the eye of a great tempest. I cannot claim a prophet. no. I do not merit such bravado. no testament to my works and days, nor presumptuous air of religiosity. my fingers sketch out a tempo through the        c             u              r             v           e             s   of letters, a form which sings and dances for those who cannot.
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Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 3:48 PM UTC
quantum superstition
If the quantum is foaming Roaming space for a chance to manifest Lest it neglect to collapse in on itself Then who am I To negate the hypothesis That life is ineffable Interfering with the pattern That would have else entangled me Instead, I find myself a wave function Undetermined until interacted with Insignificant until observed Who am I to challenge That everything is energy Rising through the ranks of probability A wavelength contracting   An equation waiting to materialize Who am I to doubt That uncertainty is anything less Than a superposition   A potential to fill The vacuum to the brim With vibrations that extend far beyond the evidence Fluctuations fulfilling a destiny   Of singularity A momentum to make matter matter
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Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 3:33 PM UTC
Quantum
You can't see how many minds have exploded due to it does not matter now what amazing methapataphorical event, and you will never know, no matter what blew shattered disbanded your mind because after the explosions the pieces started traveling at light speed away from you until, nearly infinite Doppler Effects afterwards, all you can see from where you stand is infraredness, for which you'd need of course, special equipment. But then again, your mind had exploded, so it would be of little use for you on your present situation. Unless, you are yourself some kind of Schrödinger's cat person, and can enjoy some superposition state, because till this point no one but you has found out about your mind explosion. Or maybe not just yet.
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
Oh, So You Say Your Mind is Blown
take my hand, walk with me to the lands beyond the horizon, tingling superposition of pin-drops on the wet tile, obelisks rising above the river bank, shut temples to the god of love, buried scabbard; the nights of embraces, red bus out of the mist, the hymn to the autumn goddess; curled serpent memories: hiss-lurking behind - and the bare bough by the frost-bitten lake; Saw me through and I may flame out like a flower *** hundred beads of coloured smoke; On the way, there can be a home hooded go the nights personalities, that seethe worlds out of the keyhole it is all the swaths that people the in-betweens of is and is not
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Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 4:28 PM UTC
is and is not
- I am Pavlov’s dog and I am famished. I wonder if Maslow’s pooch got free run of the food bowl. I wonder if I will self-actualize. I think of the paradox of quantum superposition. I wonder about the rules for the evolution of a system. Simultaneously, I do and do not understand quantum physics. I bet Sigmund Freud had a rabbit. ring ring
0
Jan 5, 2022
Jan 5, 2022 at 11:30 PM UTC
I am Pavlov’s dog
A light cannot express My crooked brain You see Just because I am lost in the frequency Doesn't mean I am not here I am not insane Just neurologically  damaged .... Maybe that's a myth Or a hope Because people taken the time To tell me why In the reasons behind what I am Here for so Doing fear Or doing sad, I am confused If it's an act Or if it's science You all seem to have your opinions So please tell me, Why it is I am deficit Repeating reappearing Patterns And words Bite my lip Only I rock back and forth To the bended mind   I possess Because I don't understand Why can't I take that drug Why can't I participate in the youth I am seeing In the beauty being experienced Oh yeah because I am Already that high on Nothing But remember You intoxicated mind You're already drunk Off those 12 beers And 5 shots Since we are taught Alcohol is okay While drugs are distorted And will end In your demise   And crazy people Are just that With no regard For the human life Raging a war In their heart You all seem to forget so well Maybe my convulsions Will accurately suppress The superposition behind These ticks And the light, oh the light Will finally end In my rumors
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
convulsions
The ache has juat become a lingering envelope on my soul That I'm ready to lick shut As you do with wounds Taste the pain till you bleed from your tiny taste buds Let the lemon of life sting This future of love is one my mind cannot condure without contradiction of self Like I must mourn Till the only thing I'm good at is missing you and losing myself in translation and disappearing into a universe I never loved you in Because what more can you say when you loved somebody then the curtain falls on a bridge like you're watching some indie film. Just credits made of dandelion seeds taking room somewhere else. Swept up by the broom of the spring equinox Warmth in drinking with friends and strangers as the flowers bloom when not looking in their superposition.
0
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 3:12 AM UTC
Fresh City Air