Those who were marginalized by the braids and serpentine lights, devotions were made in San Juan allowing electromagnetic discharges from the imperceptible space-time of Vernarth's parapsychological quantum; alluding to clarities that achieved everything by having Patmia in the material and incorporeal from the start of the stained glass windows and archetypes by Transfer Quantum that burned the chins of hominids who believed to be immortal as if they were looking in this position for the direction between the eyebrows and the chin , for the Euclidean incidence crossing all the pools that are between quantum means of transfer of ions and cations. The oscillations of the sparkling field of consciousness of the containers were of ethical variables that became perpendicular to the space of draft or levitation of the designations that originated with accelerated electric charges on Patmos, developing albiceleste skylights over the harmonic equations as they elongated in proportions of quanta that They argued greater than those that circulated elliptically from Grikos to Skalá, and then to Profitis with assiduous progenitors of long-wave quanta. The magnificence of the halo became rectilinear up to the high altar that was atomized from the unskillful penumbra to reabsorb the inclinations of physical life in the Macedonians and the Achaemenides when they were trapped by the loss on the propagation of the Lux, which was imposed in hemicycles where they were they reclined to relax in the lux of rest of the path of the reasoning that made pederasty in the links with the minuscule obtuse lights, reeling from the clothing and its finite speed of what measures the ability to be undetermined in the margins of error of the antagonists when originating flow rates, greater in his dermis to regenerate towards any other that could be clothing of greater speed.

Thus was the scenario of dimensional magnitude between the powers that did not have contact, but their dimensionless energies on a surface that reached absorbent to the one that rectifies the concretive of the error that partially abused them. Their legacies would pass to a supplementary electromagnetic plane, separating their masses and retaking orientation from where they returned, where if the ideal of the final rational was refracted where everything would be vivid darkness. The obstacles classified them in the closure of the average height and the average surface, to then redirect to the maximum height and maximum surface propagating in irregularities of the Ego "Believing that they were never overcome in the diffuse perception of the metal mirror." The incident rays of the Lux would go to meet the multi-incident plane of the Mashiach, the wave angles were refracted throughout the sinuous law as radiosity passed over the greater mass that was normalized from the tangent that was projected 180 meters above the eyebrow. and Vernarth's chin, along with the recharged electromagnetic strengths of Alexander the Great's reactivation bezels, which at times seemed to levitate over the Lux's high frequencies and vary independently with its crowded functionalities, among scattered restraints that it presented to both weightless behind. from the decayed marble sawdust, separating from its phosphorescence that bounced between the rigging of solid surfaces and semi-solid ones, when realizing that the sea and the silica were confessed to the Pronoia of Delphi. Inducing Vernarth for the first time into a Pronoia versology on the Athena of Delphi, prompting them to separate from the world and it's holistic to divide into three portions of the dissociation of consciousness from the end of the Lux of Parapsychology, which had hosted them for centuries and centuries. . The Pronoia conspiracy systematized the reaction that would reunite them after this oracular parapsychology, making the adversaries believe that they were discrepancies of clinical parapsychology, equating warlike causes in the containment of Delphic neuroscience. From this quantification, the predominance of Vernarth's Lux de Pronoia was announced, linking peculiar segmentation of submit logical historicity in this work as a starting thesis, which speculates the same for those who have to make an analysis of historical dogmatic imperialism as a justification for mythological normality. The Lux thesis aimed to show that the dimensions of the mythology and the submitology, when exposed in physical quanta, made a tendency of irresolution in the abode of spiritual Tractatus reasoning and not in the instinctual one, which watches over recitals where history and its collective memory indicate outbursts of moderation. The role of the submithology  is to pretend that this normality is made close to the instruction after yours temporary for causes of your deep patrimonial, that makes them captives from the social complexity, with the disambiguation of certain criteria by maximizing the hidden truth of the ascending opposition forces that they have generated great conflagrations, intuition being the unreflective pseudo-reality with historical formalities that stumble into the terrified directionality of the myth that was to be reality. The tiny spaces of the verve left by the silent mechanics of the Persians became defensive when they saw their emissaries incoherently in the verticality of Allah when they saw that the confusing world with anxiety exaggerated predictions and failures invulnerability of a lineage that always had. been condemned to the desert.

Everything conspired with a Pronoia of siege, before the exegesis that sought purification and that was how they headed and misdirected their mistakes in the active train of the recess of their abstracted retreat, in a universe that also abandoned them after the subsequent train of Aurion waking them in their illusions with swords, and stealthy spears in dreams that specified safe rest. The ferocities of the proto-souls of assault carried away the translucent bodies of the Persians, and the Hellenes in acts of honor made such congenital paths of the understandable vocabulary that he did not speak. The prism was located in the cautious measure of its contractile dispersion with white separations of mantles, earth, and water scalded by dynamics that formed colorful activations with their withdrawal phenomena in the immaculate albino Lux that dissolved all of the facet optics that it made. Lux's great brain in the instant that the Thuellai airs transfigured the nuances of the Atros monastery, with objects that refused to be absorbed by the black hue, generating mechanical waves of equivalence in their identical interference that caused two opposing forces to distill the coherent differential that had to be overexposed in the category of historical Submitology. The two inverted waves separated, the Hellenes moaned and hiccupped for having to become identical when separating from their immaterial bodies, doing wonders that would house additional souls that would complement a transitory becoming towards the garden of the angels that provided them with identical beams of light, interfering in what animated the lights of pageantry, with the antithesis of interference where they resided in constancy knowing that they felt possessed of benefits of the eternal length of existence, but with pressures of mutable in some involuntary constancy and amplitude of having parallel directions with Saint John the Apostle and the Siblis. The phenomenon of polarization of both empires was denatured in a transverse way in all the electric fields after this feat, inciting unique fields of the pure and selective ascending ecosystem, which generated polaroid substances at the angle of ninety degrees above the browbones and chin of Vernarth, to approach the Pronoia of concatenation with Alexander the Great refracting unscathed hyper-vital and transcendent faces of infinity. Like any other phenomenon, the Lux crossed both bodies like two Xiphos swords that processed the electromagnetic valve, by iridium that converted with all the coarse Lux that crossed the succumbed immateriality and stopped the shaft and the nail that hang in the typology of electromagnetic radiation from the Hellenic world between them, making an ominous redemptive fire that was regimented to leave them both in the middle of a farm where there were farmyard animals, stockpiled pastures and a house that absorbed them as parents who would love them as beings of Lux. Thus, this primary parapsychological quantum network penetrated the level of the archangels that made them be together in planes of manumission, and that does not admit bi-quantum personality or bi-parapsychology that can cancel out the portent of the helmets and the lineage that does not dazzle if they are not made of iron.

The life of the other world began to be encompassed in all the Subtraigus beings that would correspond to the astral plane that was confirmed after the Kalidona Romantics deduced the Unicorn Uilef or Uilef Monókeros after Pronoia. Kalidona being an uninhabited island and the Uilef sleeps in between copulating with Spinalonga and Kolokythas along with other smaller islets, plus two hundred that will make up six islands of the twenty-six tetragram of Alef. Here Drestnia went with her consort of Etréstles from the Koumeterium of Messolonghi to find fateful encounters of Pantheism based on the majestic copulation of beauty, among twenty-six numbers that prevailed in virtuosos who took refuge in Kalydon or Kalidona, preparing for their rampage with grafted grotesque derived bodies of the Falangist Hellenes who were arranged of their musculature, so that they directed the finesse of the civility of Hesiod, Terpando, Archiloco, Baquílides, tragic like Etréstles, Aeschylus Sophocles, Euripides and comedian like Aristophanes.

How can you enjoy love?
When he stole it from you

She sat where she had sat on the stair
Held her head in her hands
And felt the fists and the feet
Pushing himself inside
And taking her out

She could see him leering
In her unreflective eyes

She would no longer let him fester in her soul
Deep rooted
Wrapped around her veins and muscles
Interlocked within her every intimate move

A pat on the back
Would never penetrate deep enough
To wrap her scars in silk
And tease out the knots they had forged around her heart

So she wore the lipstick she had worn
Smudged poorly over her child lips
Bright red so all could see
Every kiss she had placed
Over every place he had been.

My polka dot Mama
Speckled with drops of love
Not blood

How can you enjoy life?
When he took every chance you had

Talking about trash and vomitting i am staring at the ceiling with my dry mouth open
I slept at three and woke up at eleven
It was a sunny morning my roommate left at seven she left the curtain open and why did not she let the window break sometimes i think of jumping but standing on height makes me want to fall to bed and hide under the blanket
I don't want to bathe and eat breakfast but i kept snacking and i wish i were that sweet tooth i haven't washed the dishes and ****** and i am thinking of
Being in a plane
Heat struck and breaking the window the wind the clouds the pressure
I don't know if i am still afraid of heights
I have never been that high enough anyway like i am on the second floor it's never high enough i think of the high buildings in the capital city but i just love her too much
I will not
I will not
I will not let them read me in newspapers
I still think about methods to die but it does not make sense anymore like i want to have bullets on my head like jesus' crown but i don't want the cold thing in my mouth i don't want my head to be a blood fountain out of the blue
I am too drained even to think of running and jumping off a cliff like it's actually dumb and not pretty and i hear that we have so much to live
We have so much to live
I didn't have my breakfast
I am too okay to think this laziness as depression i cannot blame my brain it is too okay it is too okay i am too okay i shouldn't complain
Too much
Too much i complain too much

You grow flowers out of your corpse but all i want to be is to decay into plastic and harm the earth and it's true that such a sad world we live in
I am getting you back here
Sonja i am getting you back here

You are still me
You are still me
You are still me

Welcome home

You don't believe the truth
You blame it all on Him
You're hypocrite and fool
Stubborn, unreflective
But when it comes to someone else
Your critic side shows off
Demanding good from wrong
So, who are you to judge?

Classy J going array, with such sassy display to you’re overbearing dismay. Blasting off today, I’m as cool as sorbet, but yet as hot as soufflé. Everlasting eternities as the cycle goes on for humanity, where some live for the moment and others search for divinity. ****** prey wanting me on their tray, the only thing I’ll give you is the direction to the doorway. Rick Ashley stray’s, I’ll throw yawl back out in the alleyway. Future class, never ever low on gas, if you mess with me, I’ll shatter you like glass. I’ll use a computer bypass, to shove a virus up your ***, not to be played with, bro don’t you know that I’m bats. I don’t butcher the masses, or overburden you like taxes, I’m just your average Joe trying to make good of all this blackness.

Not a sore loser, nor a party pooper dear querying lass, I stand my ground; yeah you bet I got ***** of brass. While some of yawl puff the grass, this creature is trying to cure the world’s tumor created by us jack assess. Don’t run on flats, tackling my demons to the mat, yeah I have gotten through life by crawling down its crevasse! Don’t listen to rumors, some call me a trooper, you have to learn how to maneuver all haters and accusers. Living life by focusing on the hourglass, I’m not one to sit idle peeping out the looking glass. But forget all of that because life is nuts, and I’m just an outlet that slams the hard truth to your guts. Enough with your meaningless chitchat, I’m done with all yawl fretting and *******, time to buck up pussycats. Your listening to a lyrical architect, don’t have time for rats or insects, this is just apart of the classy effect.

I don’t make threats, don’t you forget I make promises that will eventually be met. I’m just a twisted afflicted un-constricted gifted individual who tries his best not to be too cynical. It’s so inconceivable but yet so believable, not your typical rapper, yeah I got principal. I am always original, I am a mystical miracle; yeah I’ll be making sure you know I’m no longer going to be invisible. Beat the odds, unlike all these frauds, I know my place, I’m definitely not a God. Heated rods of critics who keep on trying to burn me, but it just feels like a thorn to me. Street with needs to meet, used to the odds, so don’t think we’ll grovel at your feet. We are not mincemeat, we are not just going to take a backseat, we stubborn as concrete, yeah we are not going to retreat.

Privileged trying to turn us neat and tidy, without them they say we incomplete, that even though we coloured we should strive to be just another ignorant whitey. Don’t you know it’s all about image? We are savages, yet they are the one’s who diseased and burned down our villages. No I don’t seek forgiveness from wily coyotes, we are not a showpiece, like some kind of conquest trophy. No I’m not finished, is there something wrong with your psyche, naughty sly feisty vermin that itch like poison ivy. I politely tell you to ****, love the irony of your fear and hate of aliens, when you yourselves came to this land from a ship, which to us was a UFO. Anyways like I said, I may go off on different tangents or phases, because there are places one needs to tread. I like to educate airheads, I like to make em red; yeah I don’t leave things unsaid.
I want to unthread this sideways planet, if you’re looking for someone who doesn’t mince words; well I’m your prime candidate.

E-town is what I represent, legacy I will cement, rap game I came to resurrect. Let’s rundown the extent of these frequent fallacious formalities, those auto-tuned drugged up wangsters that are the definition of distasteful unoriginality. I frown upon the dissent of where rap ended up, it sure need a classy clean up. I know music is subjective that it is all in perspective, but to me this garbage kids listen to is far from impressive. I find trap music ineffective and unreflective, I don’t respect something so obstructive. That’s just my two cents, and though to me it makes no sense, others may not agree and still listen to that senseless content. What I’m trying say is opinions are like *******, everyone got one, but that’s what makes us unique souls. This is just a part of the classy effect, can’t wait for what happens next, can’t wait for changes to manifest.

Abhoreal realms unreflective and hollow
Unearthed beyond the tendency to gleam
Torrid unhap’ly, oft laid sallow
Tired or dying, life’s tree
Stays open ‘til well after midnight
Constantly piroueeting
This world, tied to a thin line
Forgetting

There is an old oak which sits formidably
Upon a tangle of spindly wooden arms
Which reach above from the grave
In the middle of a field
Otherwise totally barren.

The sun casts a shadow across the land
And just before it reaches its highest point
The shadow shows an unreflective image
Of a tree full of foliage.

At noon the shadow sinks into the earth
But as the hours pass, a new image occurs
Just as deceptive as the first,
Whereupon you will see the tree’s branches dead.

Whispers that the devil’s curse
Effects that half which so strangely
Refuses to mirror the other
Traverses between the two hills
Which make this town a valley.

It was the man who made his path
By endearing the hearts of the people
Who did see at this place
The last image which was burned into his cornea
Never to be seen.

No one could have guessed
That such a caring man
Was not the image he himself projected,
But it is the silent tears of an aching woman
Which would expose the inner soul.

For a time there was no sign
Except the scar which traced the woman’s face
From each tear duct
To the softened line of her jaw.

It was after the children had headed back
From their school houses
When she walked with light heart
Across the field, and headed home

As her mind considered the feeling of the breeze,
The freshness of a new school year,
The rich golden color
Which crowned the intricate web of branches above,
She was taken by surprise.

A pool of crimson covered the ground
In the shade of the oak tree
Which after the dry summer season
Quenched its thirst

The day following, the traveler was seen
Whistling as he walked
Across the field, with his belongings in hand
Stopping to admire the color which contrasted
Perfectly against the blue sky.

With a satisfied air, he left
Continuing in the direction of his original path
When suddenly, he stopped –
As did the mechanism within his ribcage
Which counted the seconds of life left.

When the spring season returned,
The tree no longer contrasted the sky
In all its glory, for one side no longer grew
And in the wind, the people fantasized visions
Of a man hanging from the southern limb.

Thoughts wondering within the space of my
                             breath and memory,
trapped in lingering stagnation.  
They breath on the expunged momentum of fragmented meanings.

But when this fades all that will linger is dead ideas.
                           Swimming in a stench of unreflective concepts,
and this essence will keep me clouded
till  they are only dust in the winds of my mind......

Oblivion.
The writing's on the wall.
A map to no where fast.
Non existent places, empty spaces,
Unreflective,
devoid,
absent,
soundless,
a  quintessential nothingness.
Wrapped in endless streams of non integrated meaning.
Non thought,
yet unextinguished.
waiting,
for that.....
kiss.

Face is ill and filled with hate trying to facilitate vassals as bait. Perps pet fate by perpetuating crime rate, and they so unprepared and shocked when they get their court date. But being a pro takes a toll but that’s just apart of my daily protocol. Give Ben a drill and if he get a headache get him some Benadryl. Is any of this real, cause it is a real pain in my *** for I feel more persecuted than Israel. We all spin this distorted wheel, and we all give in to distorted ideals.  This just gets so crazy like schizophrenia, hasn’t it come clear to ya that reality is an unusual phenomena. Edge your hate by being educated, getting hella drunk on alcohol and wondering how it all magically evaporated. Frozen status, frozen madness going in like mad max aborting you like you a fetus. What the funk got my tongue out like I’m about to do the Jordan dunk. What the hell is up with you, I would tell you but I’m too busy man as I got a lot to do. Socialist views you probably look at me with a negative lens on the news but whether or not you listen is really up to you.  Simple lies symbolize several slides of slimy sneaky snarky callous human intentions throughout their lives. Cyclical intervals got us going in circles, clinical irrational rotting thoughts parade our brains that make us unethical. Suffering succotash all these issues make me wanna get some hash..browns hold up sit down be humble before one gains the crown. Blundering balderdash swerving in hoping not to crash, and it sounds easier then it is so don’t bash me cause I’m like a one man stampede just like vash. Everything is a metaphor do you get that ***** for its just all a election for another **** in office to ***** us over and give us *** sores. Family structures becoming like the dinosaur, for we have no time for them as we to busy fighting in the money war. So expensive, unrepentant, unreflective, so offensive and uninventive. Such is our demented state of mind but it’s to late to take a rewind and remind ourselves of the morals and values left behind.

the sea wrinkles, extends
beneath her moon glow, awaiting
its lustrous return
keening with melancholy ache
of wave soaking midnight sands
unreflective as night's obsidian
hand - snakes along his features
casting a shadowed aura
across his liquid expanse
lulled into silent slumber

while the moon fore-sakes
her nightfall promise
stretched alongside
his ivory form, awakening
breathlessly, tremulously, he
discovers her as moonshine
on outstretched palms, bathing
in her resplendence

         was it all summer night's splendor,
         (quicksilver to his mind like the moon        
         beckoning his misbegotten sea)
         or had she - at last - returned
                to solace his lovesick dream?

That vague representation cast by the sunlight
It talks, it waves and speaks to you, too.

That vague representation cast by the sunlight
It moves, it follows and listens to you.

The unreflective mirror that views you as you
It mimics, it presents, but in this gloom

When it comes and grabs you by the throat
Which is the shadow, you or you?

The Americans are stupid
Their culture unreflective

Sports and **** and violence
Political invective

Racehate on the radio
And in the big White House

Guns for all the idiots
Others quiet as a mouse

Sasha Baron Cohen
Exposes the terrible truth

If there is any hope
It's with the restless youth