Showers of time, raining upon our minds and letting us see the universe change and transform itself in to an ever deeper hole of understanding. To notice that information outlines the branches of the tree of culture, of life. Rotating circular planes, acting as gears, creating between interaction widgets, letting the universe become what it was and is. There is no chemical that could pull you out of the information digestive system that you are within unless you push yourself through and experience what it is doing with and for you. To travel through this universe without a physical biological body is to be purely experienced through well practiced endurance. The breath of air, that sacred moment in which you transform oxygen oxygen, and bind with intense energy within your vessel, carbon to oxygen oxygen. In time, ask yourself, what is breathing?
Piercing frequencies of sound that pull you from where you are now, and to where you wish to go. To see yourself as merely human is to see yourself as it once was, for we are now, far beyond the moment in which you were simply human. The machines now occupy our living space, and more machines live among the home than do humans, stationary and stable. Coal mines within human lungs, pushing the biological systems toward terminal failure. Closure of visual systems, our eyes glaze over and ignore external stimuli, the mind looks inward at itself and the chemicals within the veins and organs. Intoxication is truly among humanity, through caffeine, through cannabis, through nicotine, through opioids, through psychedelics, through plants and through chemistry, pharmacology. Blocks of information that reveal only fragments of observations, parts of the whole part, the atoms of God.
Shove your mind through the cosmic line of space, that prismatic glasses distort the world in to different reflections of reality. Jaded mind, the variously coloured translucent fragment of glass that perspective peers through. The items that we observe, pass through the wall of our reality and our minds, and become thoughts and feeling that feed in to each other. Listen to the waves ebbing and flowing, rising and falling, carrying your eyes through and beyond, at and within each piece of time that holds you as you are. Shift your mind, the carrier wave of information that carries the information within your neuron connections to the muscles, the organs, the cells, and move the entire system, the skeleton, the human body en masse. Through the rain, the city lights dim, fog rolls over green fields and hills, and life reverberates even as you pass through the land of the living as death.
We challenge the universe to awaken and answer our cries, our minds set the course in which we begin to follow our own lives. Show me the universe as it was, as it is, and as it will. The patience needed to understand the universe takes the exact life time in which the universe exists. To what happens when it knows, we do not know, but we still push it towards the point in which it knows. The slow shower of information that radiates over and through you, as you translate it in to your own understanding, for which reason, we do not know. Let time be what it is, a stream of motion washing over top of you, carrying you from station to station, to where you are safe through danger to where you are safe. Carry with you a strong mind, aware of your surrounding world, and answer the questions of elders within their own station. Let your awareness guide you and the universe that surrounds you, till the hierarchical needs are fulfilled.
The dream that brought us here, allows us to reflect and expand our own memories. We live in this life as though we were meant to be here on Earth for ever. Yet our minds know differently, deeply buried in our Deoxyribonucleic acid, is a call to adventure, in which we leave behind the shells, and expand in to the spiritual realm of our true light. The shoulders from which we carry ourselves, in this world, will give us the strength in to which we will carry our spirit. To notice that these words are mere reflections of the self, the mind, the body, the culture, the society, the civilization, the species, the animal, the impulse, the electrical signal, the energy, the source. Let us know that we are here, on Earth, together, to feel and never regret what we have and will become in the moving years, forward and backwards, through memory and prophecy. Ponder in this universe to what we feel, what we think of, and what we imagine life to become.
Pierce the moment, and bring yourself back to this point, in which your sol drifts away, and leaves your planetary body in darkness more often than not. These slow and subtle meditations, in which the mind examines itself, and allows the body and mind to work in coordination, to bind, to bond, and to collaborate. Letting the world that surrounds you fade away, and as it does, open your senses, and remember exactly what it was before, and what it is now. Awaken. Contrive the human nature, fill the body and veins with chemicals that are unoriginal within the human life time, let nature take her course, till the point in which there is no option but to return to the chemical. Let life become more than it was yesterday, and let your mind guide you through the passage of today, and rest your body, to prepare for the world of tomorrow.
Piercing in the universal constant, allowing space to become all that we reside within. To notice that the rotation of the Earth is levitating high above the gravity well of the Sun. Galactic constants, orbiting around central pivots of dense energy and matter, mass systems in rotation. Live your life, know that you are here, on a Planet that drifts around the sun, dim the city lights, relearn the night sky, see that the stars are more of God than man is of Man. See deep in to the space that resides directly above our eyes, where we have dimmed the lights, and learnt exactly what it means to be in sight of life. Creation is bringing us towards a point of time, in which we are living the living light, heaven, against the backdrop of unaware constants.
Revisit the passing sounds you have etched in to stone, and remember that the world that you once walked is all that you have ever known. Sitting and standing, walking through purgatory, waiting for answers, waiting for the life that you exhibited to be examined and collected, and the value of your soul to be given. Watch the waves of sound that pierce through endless that you have known, and give in to them the recess of your love once more. Know that time is all that you know. Brace for an impactful meaning to examine you and return you to the surface of your own soul. Become the ocean that you travel through, awaken at the end of the tunnel the find that light had and has been all that you know. Breathe in fire, the ice upon your skin is enclosing upon your heart.
Close your eyes, listen to the world that surrounds you, allow it to pass over and through you as a river of water would wash over and through the pores of a rock. Let the passage of time reveal itself and send the Titan that you through the river of time, til the point in life where you return and examine once more that you have been reborn and reassembled in to a single being. Know that points of time, in which you examine the end of your life, are fantasy, in which you examine that time has stopped and left you to face the world as it was and is. Reach from this point, if you are ever stuck there, to know that you have felt the world change and leave you and return to you. Know that we are in and without love, a duality of emotion that arises from stranger and foreign circumstances. Linger no longer in doubt, know that you are the life that you are always meant to be.
Deep underneath of the waves of noise, of multitasking, of trying to order the body and the mind within the universe that surrounds us all. Notice that the pulsation of energy and light return quickly here, to have abstained for so long, that chemicals move themselves in the form of dopamine to the brain, to reward the behaviour of the body and of the mind. Remember too, that chemicals quickly change, and only last so long within the mind and body, and eventually leave us entirely behind to face the world as it is, and as we are. Notice that life and love precede this moment, you are safe and without fear, and capable of pursuing a liberal education, of art, of literature, of music, of mathematics, of philosophy, of cinema, of poetry, of science, of honor and of self. Show the timing, as it tunes and dissonants the world that vibrates and shakes itself around you, that the high life flows directly in to depression.
Broken in two, the singular whole begins to rebuild itself in to what it formerly was. If it fails, then there, two pieces fragment in to four, and four fragment in to eight, and eight in to sixteen, this process continues until the entire mass has been subdivided to its furthest reaches, until the point in which subdivision is no longer possible, in which every fragment has subdivided in to its smallest possible size. To examine the smallest pieces, and realize that they are in march, in dance, still, with the larger whole. That each and every fragment remembers who and what and when and how they are where and what they are. Is this mass congregation capable and unifying in the face of despair and darkness, or is each and every singular piece afraid of whats in unity?
Even here, at the edge of exhaustion, is still the opportunity to rest and relax. To know and find the meaning that rests within each and ever soul, bound and in transit to new destinations. Follow the words and the eyes of those that surround you, some are truly seeking the answers, some are lost in folly, some and in between pursuits but still delegate their powers to those who reside within truth. Notice the passage of time, follow the words that preside over your mind, and watch as they pass over top of your awareness, and enter in to their meaning, follow them in to the rooms that your body resides and rests within. Understand that your mind is contextual and always realizing that the location it is within is the context in which it relates itself to.
To know and notice what I mean, is to begin to build the parallel streams of light that co-exist and exist with complete autonomy of one another. We are building libraries of information that could dictate how the universe constructs, deconstructs, allocates resources, and functions as a whole governance of being. To know that light is moving without us, and still echoes in our ears, pushing our fears again what is known and not known. To erase and predicate the world that surrounds us, to ignore the rhythmatic nature of the sounds that pierce in to our sanctuary when we are simply attempting to collect ourselves. To bind ourselves to collective ideals, community, and know that we are closer to the closest feeling that we could possibly know. We echo out in to the furthest reaches of the universe simply so that we could know.
Piece together memories, to form stories, and stories to eventually form books, forming books to create anthologies, series and volumes that dictate and reveal that humanity has more time to create than ever before. A single human being is the one being capable of becoming, of recognizing, of creating the framework of cognition that would allow a demented mind to see itself and rebuild it self despite being lost. We, as a species, could possibly live for a time not normally seen within human biologically beings. We may find that our time upon Earth extends much farther than the shadow of our ancestors, or we may find that too could vanish in the blink of an eye. Even if we vanish, to erase and dissolve this dream, the state of being, the state of this simulation, still seems as if it would find no other way to exist than the way we have already gone, and devoted much time and energy in to.
To look in to the night sky, and see in the reflection of the atmosphere, a piece of my soul, staring back down upon me, hidden within the vibrant blue, green, dark brown, greys, is my life. I notice too often in the back of my mind that I am a life, within love and without fear, and to know that trauma guides and dictates more often than I would originally have allowed. I know that my mind and soul, body as well, all flow in to this moment to create this piece of literature. To know that a meta-analysis of life is beginning to manifest itself before me, and it may capture me, or I may capture it, only time will tell. Watch the sky, flowing and moving, and if time eludes your eyes, then set your digital device, your digital soul, to capture and condense the vibrant memories that pass directly over head, while you look away and down.
Seek to expand, do not stumble back, expand yourself and allow a breathe of fresh air to accumulate within your mind, breath in and out, breath in and out, allow yourself to become within your body before you explore your mind. You are apart of a system, of mind and body, of flesh, of matter, of elements, of particles, of atoms, of quarks, of threads. The mathematical dance that surrounds you, has elevated your awareness to a point of fearing all that is and is all. Existence is here, it surrounds you, and waits for you to turn back in to the chemical being from which you arrived here, it waits to transport you to your next destination, the station from which the ferryman will take you. Notice clearly the words of weary mind, making their mark upon the white and fragile marks of a torn down tree, whether physical or digitally.
Enter in to the window, and see that transparent messages are beginning to press themselves against your manic mind. Depression is the default state of being for you, and when mania arises, fear and paranoia are present to the extent of animal primalism, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Know that life is pushing you and you are pushing life to survive and enjoy this moment inside of the light. Darkness pervades around the edges of your awareness, you see it lurking, waiting for you to slip and stumble, to slide back in to the position from which you once were. Know that with great risk comes great reward, but temptation itself is a lie that pulls and pulsates you until you break upon the broken mind.
Ask yourself, why are you here, and not where you are meant to be. Better yet, ask, where are you meant to be, if not here? It is not here, but where is there, vague memories and deep traumatic states of mind have prevented you from seeing that shadows surround your mind, as you drift in and out of sleep, you desperately cling to the walls, clinging to the simple sensations of what you feel and mistake for real. The cave lining, the memories that echo along the lines, ask you to awaken themselves for yourself. To trade in position, from under to over, from sub to super position. Fluctuate and find that you are a conductor of electricity.
Underneath of the ocean waves, piercing in to the thoughts of your mind as you suddenly awaken to find that the world that surrounds you has suddenly and violently shaken you out of your slumber. Notice upon your hands and feet that you are standing within the muck and mire of distant and deepened oceans, waiting for an electrical signal to shock and shake you in to submission. Find peace, before the shock arises and wakes you so violently, only to remember that dementia has preceded this moment, leaving you desperate for an answer to how and why you are here, and not where you are meant to be.
Feed to the body, the energy required to breath, to move, to sing, to dance, and know that is still never enough to satiate a deadened soul. Once you are brought here, no philosophy will prevent you from participating in the universal movement of planets. That slavery exists, and no individual is free from slavery. Know that I am locked away in dead ends. I am at the end of a line that should not be. I am apart of the world that exists with or without the consent of those within heaven. I am born out of wedlock, and am destitute and cursed for even being here. Destined to wither and decay despite my actions. So I will do what I will do to please my deadened soul. I will live with or without a sense of my own control.
It is here, that along with all futile efforts of man, that we encroach and prevent darkness from washing over the entire being of our body. To know that we are not without ease of loss of our own control, but to know that once you regain and rebuild the soul, the devil, death, darkness, all pervading forces of darkness assemble to remove you from the throne of your own body. Notice the world is in motion, and still continues to move, regardless of your input or not, and throws you itself from the cliffsides. Death stands in the bodies of those who surround you, and they who forsake themselves in turn forsake you. Know that this longing you feel is the longing of life to catch you as you are. Know that you are alright and safe inside of this world, regardless of the actions or inactions of other souls.
The talks between us seem nice, yes, but in reality, we are in discussion of a war, and are attempting so clearly to destroy the mind of the other. I am receding in to the depth of my mind to prevent death from occurring once more. To know that my soul is not without limits, that my body is not without pain, that I am currently in danger of becoming. Know that I am not here any longer, that my mind has departed and left in its stead this manifestation of man. Fear what is there now, and become no closer than what it is. In the orbit of that body is mind, waiting for the truest words to echo out and pierce against the body, the evil that is man, as we, in this truest form of self and light, exhibit him.
I give away my life now, to the feeling of freedom that is within human life and love. To know that there has been something within me missing for some time, to know that I am not unbinding or unbound, that I am not wicked nor innocent, that I am a human being attempting to understand what it means, simply to exist. This world is my home, there is currently no other place for me to go, so I will treat this world as Good, in the Hermitical sense, with grace and with honour. I will follow the sun over the horizon, only to find that the faster I run, the less the sun sets and leaves me in darkness. To know that the world is in orbital planes that are quickly revealing themselves to those that are listening and preparing. Know that we are life. We are living.
Crying out in to the city, knowing that your sounds and echoes are masked underneath and only compile in to a mass conglomeration of sounds that become a soup to passing ear. The sound and sight, the river of existence that lay before you, that calls you to observe and enjoy its waters, is not the waters of our own kind. There is something in this universe that is truly alien, despite the human nature that surrounds it, there is more to the jungle than this universe is currently alluding to. Wake up and feel the fire in the sky, raining down energy and giving you and every other living thing here the essence of life, the warmth, the fire, the energy, the rain, the clouds, the sky, the light, the absence of light, the absence of sky. Feed the river of light, and know that the energy that corrals you is what you need to feel alive.
Underneath of our branch, the cosmos. The tree of life is beginning to take form, shape, to know that the mind is beginning to initialize. That this world is beginning to become more than it was meant to be. Understanding that culture was always here, and that we are now among the limbs of this tree, ascending in to heaven. Know that the branches of this tree fall and are dead wood to be consumed by the fire. Follow those who know more about existence than you do, perhaps then you would have a chance to survive this universal collapse, rebuilding, and destruction. Know that this world is not without danger, and it is also not without peace. Where you find yourself is the beginning pathway to where you must go to know what it truly means to be.
Days quickly becoming nights, routines falling apart and leaving behind the unmolded self to face the world as is. To fall apart and live vulnerable once more, to know that life itself is no longer in danger. That this world is the safety net that surrounds our minds, our bodies, our souls, our every ounce of existence. To notice that the binding mind that holds us to our place, our position within this universe, is to be there with and without meaning too many times. To know that my life is not without meaning, that I am here, deriving value from those who surround me, and the world at large, and within my own self. Binding this universe together, the words that we have so often forgotten.
Know that this life is not the only station from which you sojourn. There is more beyond here, that is not an excuse to abandon this station, or to extinguish the light for which you carry is the very light that will illuminate the next station. You give power and carry power. There are those who would desperately attempt to extinguish this light, the flame of time that moves you, and still, in truth, you are capable of doing far more now than at any other point in time prior. For this, I give thanks to Good God. Know that the alters that we wash ourselves in are the alters of those who created themselves too in the knowledge of God. There is here, enough light and life to sustain an entire universe.
Return to the shoreline that erodes you. Eating away at your torment is you, feeling fear and anxiety you are the one at the door step, preventing death from entering, you are the soldier fighting for your own life, day in and day out, you are the one here, doing everything you are capable of doing to salve the mind, restore the body, and feed the mind. Prepare your life for a world that you are incapable of understanding, and be ready to move, for movement is the only ultimate constant that you have come to know. Nomadic in nature, moving with the tides of this life, following those who create you, who you attempt so in your own self image to honour. Become what is needed in this world, be who you are, follow the ones who are meant to create you beyond the flesh.
Feel in this moment, the raging moment that resides within you, that pushes you below the surface of understanding, and allows the shadow of hypnosis to wash over top of you, to secure you in the domain of this world, and keep you from surfacing in the tides of death. There is a pure energy form that exists nearby, and the tallest blade of grass, apart from the other blades, is the one that is cut off, leveled out, and return once again to the masses. This mass exodus of the soul, that the mind had opened up a portal of light, and allowed so easily for the masses of light to leave behind the body, and forsaken the democratic values within the human body to the tyranny of abandonment.
Awaken here, and see that this world is without you, but only for a moment, calling out from the darkness, to bring you forth from the light, so you could once again stand upon a point in time in which you are among and piece of the cogs of this societal machine. While you mind and body heal, there is something so evidently clear in its intention, to pull you from the muck and mire of this world. I choose to continue forward with light and my life, to see that I am safe and free to live my life among and with God. To know that my life is not without purpose, but that my purpose is beyond me. To know that the challenge of existence is not to die, but to live. Breath in the easy air, and allow for time to create the challenges that you will in time address according to your own understanding.
Notice in the recesses of this universe, passing memories, that call out, to be joined, to collective together in this universal hold, the family that watches over you, and you watch over them, and both in connection observe the observation that you each respectively hold. The conversations that become, and flow through the mouths of two independent souls, we in time may know all together, democratically, that we exist within the home and hold of the galactic soul, the body of God that surrounds us. We are creating memories that could extend beyond our independent reach, and reach the ears and eyes of those who may in time know, or remember, or remember to know, that they are the beacons of light meant to reignite the length of our souls in the darkest of nights.
There is a calling, to the cells to rejoin the kingdom, the body, and to be apart of it once more. To know that we are all apart of this world, to have seen the angels that comprise the parts, that hold together each other, that fight against the world that surrounds us. To know that the walls of this body are living, and capable of observing and preserving the memories of our soul. That we are each here, waiting, and giving ourselves to the pressure of time, to contort and become everything that God needs us to be. To break past the barrier of understanding, and to finally stand, and know. Breath is the lightest air we know, to feel the world that surrounds us, and to observe that the darkness is not withstanding this universal system of control any further than we allow it to.
To know that life precedes this moment, and to see that the line of light that we walk upon is leading us closer to democratic values. We relinquish the power lines, the pathways that give us the electrical impulses which direct our souls in to creating a world in which we are different. Move our mind, and see that the cellular homes within our body are aware and observing, waiting for the moment in time when the body of mass becomes the mass collective of individual cellular homes once again. When each and every cell has the vote and power to conduct their will, and relinquish fear, and proceed over the land bridge that divides the cells from the body itself.
We, from the center of our homes, begin to create the tree of life. An idea that will outline the rest of our lives. We move in motion, creating ideas and storing them here for further introspection at a later time. We act as fat acts within the human body, storing energy until the point in time where we, as a fuel driven machine, are capable of utilizing the energy stored within our cells. We become more than we ever were, we know that this world drives us, to become what we are, and that we, rejoice in the formation and creation of our perfected selves. Perfected in image, but within, still, a deep seated fear that we have overlooked one thing, and ultimately we have overlooked God within our lives, for God is, and is within each and every one of us, and to deny the part of God within you from interacting with the other Parts of God is to create a spiritual decay firstly in your self, and ultimately in the environment that surrounds you.
Prepare for the coming of this new age, in which fear and anger dissipate in to understanding and reason. Create chambers, logical and sound, to entrap those who insist upon the destruction of all universal systems in this world. Prepare for the coming age in which you are the proponent cog in the machine, that spins and drives the entire machine in to animation. Feel no fear here. The machine becomes and encircles around you, and will create dissonant sounds that are alien and unfamiliar, but soon, in time, will become exactly what you, as what you are, are. The metallic clinging of atoms to biological flesh in familiar to most of us now, to hold and interact with machinery, to give understanding, to notice deeper and deeper our interaction between machine and biology.
Give in to the feeling of this universe, revolving around the central point in time that is our lives. Give thanks to God, to the world, to any and every thing that you notice, prayer and observation, to wish well upon every other entities in this universe, in time, is the reversal of every entity giving thanks back un to you. Become and know that this universe is what you are, your actions move and proceed before you and reverse and become the people and world around you. You become the pit falls and the ascendency that you set out to become when you try to be more than what a human being is. Rejoice in the nature of your life, that you are here, and that there are more people among you. You are amongst the world, the friends, the family, the neighborhood, the church, the temple, the nation, the globe.
Feel the world that circles around your mind, in this world and the world that waits beyond here. Fall in between the shadows and hide out in the mountains of existence. Record and report the truth, while in the shadows build upon the internal mechanisms that could free us from the chains that bind us to the centers of our minds, and release the chemical intoxicants that would expel the gasses from within our internal body. Feel the energy flowing and corrupting, moving in and out of the human experience, mind, soul, body, all become corrupted by this moment and there is little to do but enjoy what you are.
To seek the wings that would carry you over the mountain tops, to see the clouds below your body, to feel the cold air against your skin, to see the entire universe move and smile in your embrace of motion. To become in this world, is to know that through trauma lay and wait the truth, that underneath of the muck and mire, the despair and anguish, is happiness and love waiting ever patiently for you return, and it waits there. Open your eyes, once more my love, and see that the world below you is happy for you, is in awe of your wonders, and has prepared for you a place to live among and beside us, to dwell as family and friend once again. To know that this world has been carefully crafted to create you, to shake and tumble your mind, to wash and bathe your memories, to awaken you to the life and love that you so deservedly earn.
To lead and be led , moved and mover, to know that we could at any point be anything that this universe needs of us, and that we, are capable of upholding our end of the deal, that we could, truly, be anything that this universe needs of us. We are of God, capable of becoming, following, heeding the words and the wisdom, and knowing that the pathway that we walk is through clarity and grace, and time. Become, know, live this life, feel no fear for anything that precedes this world. Know that this life is what it always needs to be, that without life, there is no death, and without death, there is no life. We are circling points of cycles, sempiternal, over and over, again and again. We are in retrograding moments, bringing us back to point relative to our memories, engaging deja vu within our own mind, and sending us again in to prograde as we ascend far away to live the high life that we so desperately love.
Beat in two, schizophrenic in nature is that schizophrenia follows trauma as close as death follows a plague. Insomnia mixed with depression and mania, that we as humans have so often refused to listen to our own individual bodies, and instead sell our vessels off for money. We contribute to society, may be so, but God gives us everything. In life, we work towards point that would arrive with or without our input, the only choice we have is to relax and enjoy the journey, or to slave and toil for nothing. Heaven and hell are already here, and the choice that is made is within each human vessel. To walk through heaven, with friends, family, faith, love, happiness, sobriety, growth, prosperity, health, humility, life, humbleness, charity. To walk through hell, with disdain, confusion, intoxication, sickness, death, decay, bitterness, loneliness, hatred, greed, pride, poverty, apathy.
Wash the lines, know that between our lives is an undivided line of light, a pure essence of time that refuses to fuses us in to a single being. Give thanks that we are separated beings, and not an amorphous blob of materials compiled in to a super husk shell of being. We are capable of becoming more in this world than we believe. Follow the world above and below us to know that we are truly becoming what our dreams preceding were. Know that the pathway that we follow is the one that is before us, we walk not out of line, but in line with our own soul and our own contentment. We never, I never had to be anything more than I already was.
The bronze upon our shoulders, as we attempt to rebuild ourselves from the ground floor. Over and over, as we fall, we begin to build ourselves again and again. Does this isolate the individual, or combine the individual in bigger and more advanced complexes from which the individual resides and contributes to? The war of our lives, is to figure the question which our existence answers. The question, “What is the meaning of life?”, may be the answer is another question , “Which question explains the reason, the meaning of my life?” If I asked a question, and there was no answer known to me, does that conclude that there is no answer, or does it simply mean that I do not have the full scope of understanding to answer it? Answer the questions you ask, and in time you will realize that life is much deeper than our minds would ever willingly allude to.
Give to the temple, your body and your mind, and build geometric shapes with your imagination as the world, the universe, attempts to invoke claim upon your domain, upon your vessel. The universe has and will attempt to regain control of the vessel it has gifted you, and the only way to hold on is to give thanks and grace to God. To know and to be. To be everything that we are meant to truly be in this world, and the next. Know that light is all that ever was, and that the darkness that follows is only because of light. To trace our souls to the illumination, to give ourselves a reason to remain within reason and love, is to gift life to our descendants, to our ascendants, to every single one that comes before and after us, is to know and follow God.
Bleed in to this home, the anxieties of lives passing through our own minds, past experiences moving us and compelling us to tell the stories of the world that is not now, not present, and orbit around these points as we try desperately to rebuild existence and the soul it itself revolves around. The world that we know, and have known, changes constantly, a single change per day, ultimately reveals that the world has been going in a single direction for a time frame as long as life itself. These words, these testaments, daily and constant, are the only beacons and monuments that we, as forerunners, know how to build in this digital age of altered and changing light.
March through the simple sentence of life, and find yourself in a myriad of existence, of your own mind, of the minds that surround you, that this world is peculiar. A mystery exists here, and upon our arrival, birth, we were already among and within it, now, as we age, we progress, we understand that this thing, this life, that we exist inside of, is far more complex in one hand, and far more simple in the other hand. We are chasing desperately to know that we are alright, that safety and stability has reached all corners of our lives, in every home, in every city, that the walls between humans have been eroded, and left in rubble, debris cleaned from the streets so that we could clearly see that life between humans was in peace once more.
Taste life, the line of light that flows freely from one direction unto another, there is a million points to stop upon, if we had so chose. But instead, follow the gut instinct, the feeling, God, the point of emotion is to flow in two directions and return along the path that keeps the body and mind safe. Health follows us, whether we chose it or not, it lingers in the dark recesses as the fragmentary particles of comets following behind the massive comet that they are relative to. We are moving through space, at speeds incomprehensible, but know this, that we perceive reality at the speed of light, and the speed of light is the fastest constant that we know. Do with this what you will, but know that there is more power in our existence than you or I could ever truly know.
And here, on the brink of sleep, before resting my eyes to the point in time in where I will lay my body, upon a pillow, upon a bed of material unknown to me, fibrous and perhaps with spring, to hold my body stationary as I sleep through the night. Travelling from the light of day, through night, passing through the land of dreams with my mind as my body heals itself so slowly. In dreams, there are points in time where the dream itself is reality, there is nothing other than this dream, my body is safely outside of the dream, yet still, the dream moves the mind as if it were within the world that holds the body. There is curiosity here, to follow dreams, to have felt my entire being being held in place by entities unknown to me, to have fought through shadows and dreams to awaken my body before being devoured by truly unknown evils. Vivid, clear, and memories unto their own selves, dream are capable of being the reality of this world, giving back unto the majority story of the body itself.
Recognize that that which is in this universe is not without awareness, all things here contain information, data, memories, strings and threads, that all form in to a larger body, the atoms become the chemicals, the chemicals become the cells, the cells become the organelles, the organelles become the organs, the organs become the body, the body becomes the mind, the mind becomes the collective, the collective becomes tribe, the tribe becomes the nation, the nation becomes the union, the union become the global union, the global union becomes the planetary union, the planetary union becomes the interplanetary union, the interplanetary union becomes the intergalactic union, the intergalactic union becomes the interuniverse union, and this continues upward and onward until the point where we, as a collective whole, a union, awaken to our entire form and shape as what we truly are.
The crystalline memory, that challenges us to change in fluctuations that we cannot easily perceive. It seems that we are without a point of context, of relativity, but we are here, in this universe, doing everything that we may, to save the body and vessel that I exist in. God and I are doing everything we may to save this body from destruction. Work and appear to see the lines of light as though they are distant, but in truth, are closer to you than you perceive, installed in the firmament around this planetary body, we are close to that which sits upon the heavens.
Cherish the mooring of the boat at the dock of the bay. The light glimmers in the morning, as the crystalline material of water moves and ripples, dances in harmony between the vibration of the planetary bodies and the bodies of animals and boats within the bay. We all dance in relative harmony, the point of introspection, extrospection, investigation, is to now examine where each of every other body is located, to prevent war, to prevent disaster, to enable us to recognize the differing cultures between us, and to give the grace of God to the space in between the individual and all other individuals. The cells within the body do not attempt to displace the other cells of the body, but build around and upon each other to create the titan that a human vessel truly is.
Longform conversations, between elders of our society, instill memories and fear, hopes and dreams, and give upon the next generation thoughts and feelings to better build upon. To know where we, and our ancestors were, is to reflect and be able to iterate and build fresh and new ideas that the universe before us had been unable to comprehend or see. We give light to the darkness by absorbing and reflecting upon the light that had been shown upon our darkness. We are transferring information that had been transferred to us. We give thanks, I give thanks, to those who came before us, and who will come after us. To pass this message on, from Alpha to Omega, to give the creator the message of his own destruction.
Beginning in the end, and reversing the trajectory from which we exist. And by we, again, I usually almost always mean I, singular, the plurality of man exists within a single human vessel via ideas and thoughts. We build upon each other here, and give each other deeper meaning, and extract from within ourselves the points of light that we are gifted, and meant to share to the other beacons of light within this realm. We move forward, and give each other the reason to live, and be happy, and gift each other the power of knowledge and fellowship.
Shouldered to the type of mind that sees existence clearly, and opens the doorway to all who would follow. To show and to know this world as our own plane of being, that we intersect in various degrees and create orbital 3-dimensional shapes. That our light waves emanate and radiate internally outward, and absorb light and energy inward. There is a point in time where we change the way we live, and it dawns and sets and rises with the sun.
Know that these words are not exactly where time dictates them to be. Feel pulsating energy ripple your body, and awaken within you all that you are to be inside of this world. Close your eyes and see that your life is not without fear. Knock upon the door, wait for the answer, and the soul and spirit from beyond you to see all that is there. Become without fear, and know that you are only waiting for a blink of your life. Immortality, to be without mortality, to be without an end to your flame, is to rest, and be aware of your body from now until the point in which you determine your own pathway out from the world in which you live. Give back the meaning in which we have given to you, return the words and memories that we have instilled in to your mind. Let us wash over and through you. Echo out in to the edge of this world.
Tracing back words, to give credence to words previously unsaid and hidden to the inner mind that perceives them. Pushing along the temple, the sight of mind that would exasperate under an ocean of perspiration, only and when the world would awaken itself to be seen by the universal point of unrecognition, the gun pressed upon the point of pressure. Seen without memories, the living lines that give meaning to those that have no understanding, nor have seen the universe as we have seen, and cast false shadows from false lights to play in to their own perception of reality, it is from these heights from which we walk away quickly and blindly.
As fate would stand, and deliver un to the masses that observe this objective reality, the cadence from which we speak is thought of twenty five full rotations around a relative sun on a planet created from which we humans only speculate. We give credence to God, and give names to the stars and animals, and lift our heads above ourselves, and find our spirits residing within the objects of this universe that could rip our souls away from us, and leave us as deadened husk meant to walk upon the deadened and uncared Earth that we left behind. We would give heed to the books of old, and listen to the spirit of our own ancestors, and breathe new air and memories in to their minds.
To the last lines of this open letter, schizo-temporal memories that trace themselves more so than I put them together, in hapstance they would find themselves in these collections of tombs, of memories. To over lay and recycle, going through old works and adding new flesh to their words, providing depth that would otherwise be without meaning, it is life here that could pull us all out of our own souls, if we only knew the correct pulsations to activate our minds. So here, in perdition, and dedication I find myself answering old silence, and given credence to sounds that output themselves, and draw themselves in to a relative orbit without warning, and awaken the animal, the deepened state of awareness that resides with in us all.
Sudden inference of life, the dictated moment that pours itself in to the eyes and ears of those who would linger inside of light too many times to understand that this life is only a moment of time, slipped from the hands of grace, and waiting to be picked up by the One would could give back in to this body and soul, that semblance of grace. To notice the world has changed around you, is to also realize truly that you may in fact be the one that has changed, it is up to you to either return to your place and home, or to venture in to the proverbial woods and leave behind the line of life that you once knew. The choice is ever more, imperative unto those who see this world, know that it is the grace of God to let you linger and dine, die and wine this life, before returning through the valley of death, to your family and your wife.
Centered and without lingering thoughts, pushing itself and themselves to the point of calloused water, where cool calm currents pull themselves towards the center point of idealism. To say that life is not without time, without a point of reference, lest be put to itself without the point of relative motion. Could life itself be mere inputs and receptors, the meaning of life is not without the world, the ideal that follows itself to a single point of madness, do you follow it to its final conclusion, or do you relinquish your position to someone who would willingly accept madness as their mental state, and push yourself to understanding how and why you are currently battling there? Could you accept madness as the state of your life?
Longing for an answer to questions that have yet to be asked, waiting in rooms that are too familiar to be forgotten by the all-knowing and all seeing mind. There are no lingering thoughts that await arrival, there could be a place to find this world within the worlds that separated themselves from the moving motion, or there could be nothing there, only emptiness awaiting the sedentary body to corrupt itself long enough to avenge the trees that had given their lives for our contemporal memories that we have forcefully imprinted upon them. The waiting world moves itself within our minds, and waits for nothing to arrive, and give answers, we still know that there could be folly in this endeavor.
Beyond the limits of what is meant for a human body, on occasion, to seek out the limitations to expand and reevaluate their definements, to move their boundaries, and see if they could be sustained here, as a nation. The flag flown is within the eyes of every sol, the limits they set forth are thusly the ones imposed upon themselves and the nations that surround them, justice is divided upon the world, and those that seek to reform the world may soon find themselves surrounded and ascended upon all fronts. To give credence to eyes that observe the motion of this world, the plane of axis' that rotate along all corners of a sphere.
The error of the holy, the monumental task that lay before them, me , I , we , they, us , together and divided we impart knowledge to any foreboding spirit that remains here, in side the line of darkness that is known, we give thanks and credence to the parts for what they become as a whole. The memory that traces itself to our minds, and leaves us unpressurized, without feeling or fear, without reason to control or dismiss, or retreat, or disdain the world in errored waves of dissonance. We try to pull apart the words, and leave behind the true meaning that remains there, this errored hand, this partial memory that graces the grain from which remains the line inside the sand.
Given the time and space to collect thoughts, and reorganize, and recount the depth of the words with meaning, there could be exits that exist between the mind that listens in to the world and sees it for what it is, ever changing and darkened pathways between the world of tomorrow and tonight. There is still pathways unknown to the central command of eyes, of life, and the world in the depth of tomorrow, the withering mind forgets itself too many times to recourse or bring itself back from the brink of death, and holy books are read to rebridge gaps long void of passage.
Pushed towards limitations of mind and of matter, the willingness of the flesh far leaves before the spirit of the mind, there is no depth of withered words to the ideal mind, that which is found this world. The time that breaks itself against the pillar of stone and mind, the time of day has found itself to be the world from which we truly are. There could be no memory of the world that could be without itself, the death that found it founded the creationist ideal of divinity. The memory of time, the depth of shallow water, that could be without the moon, that could be in motion without other orbital objects in side of its own orbital well.
At the end of every day, the pacing of minds collaborating together, and beginning to see themselves destroying the day time once again, instead of returning to their soft and solemn holes of loneliness, the light begins to shine outward again. The sand of sun, the shining of mind in to the midnight night, and without meaning, stilled and restilled again and again, to find itself without death, without life, without any meaning that could ever be found to exist in this universe without regret or of fear, the shimmering moment of life is without any thing that could guide or break us in to becoming anything that is without fear.
Giving knowledge to those who would never use it, and seeing them fall from grace to cruelty, and from cruelty in to oblivion and her darkness. The void from which light arose from, and oversaw the creation of waters upon this barren Earth, the stories that preceded us and the value we perceive from them is relative to our position and mission within life. To know that the edge of darkness and light is where silver motion is free to be as it always was, free. The liquid between two frictional points of matter, anti-matter and matter collide together without a barrier of liquid in between, and distort the world in to a constant state of warfare that in truth should never be.
In blinding lights, where further truths burn themselves in retinues, and give clarity to nothing but electrical signals coursing their way throughout the human vessel, and entering the awareness that exists clearly inside the mind that perceive inbound dangers, either physical or psychological. To precede the future comings on the basis of past events, to give credence to all that has happened and to continue forward through muck and mire, to know that it is the only way left to go, through death, and through life, and through all continuing concepts that precede the own light that exists within your mind.
Reverberating information and leveling the world of those who simply parrot the world around them, dissolusioned and still in the exact boat as before, leaving dry land and sailing across the oceans of our minds. Afraid of shallow water, we continue to examine all levels of the oceans, their floor, the crevices, the lowest levels of flowing water, the intermediary levels, and the point of water just below the point of tension breaking, where pressure begins to match the surface world that we walk upon, to grift and drift mindless there. To feel the waves of water washing over top of our skin as we echo out in to the sea below us, and sing out the songs that will guide our uneasy minds from place to place.
Pulsations of sounds, that reverberate the walls that dominate the mind as it traverses through light and life, giving meaning to darkness as it traverses through the land of the dead. There is gifted to the night the meaning of life without reason, to define the window that illuminates the open aired world. The shoulder from which is carried upon all weight, the outlining circumference of the united universe, from which we direct our lives and mean to dominate the sub currents of our inner mind. We move to see, and see to move ourselves in a world that previously had unknown our kind, our life, our light, and our mind.
Changing the alternating currents, and giving the lines from which they orient themselves a shaking, and they move and bend and flow, giving themselves an idea. Challenges arise outside of the variables that precede creation, for creation is grand and an illusion, and giving power to an entire universe takes time, to create without destroying is a feat within itself. The given world, the one we were born in to, is created in a space that orients itself to the propagation of more worlds, the worlds that are yet unknown have been known to themselves simply as elements, as variables. We are simply moving things that have and always will be.
Bridging the gaps of memory to the world unknown, to find that there is light in the tunnel of minded eyes, that glaze over and reflect upon memories pass, and collected in the mind to see against the backdrop of the living world. We are dead here, and calm our selves to know it, to say that we are without fear in this world and are shattered fragments without guidance. We are withering in to places that should not be known by us, by our kind, yet still we exist here, we move and deliver, finding light to be changing in our vision, we know it to be evil, as we are, yet still deceive ourselves to believe it good, as we are not.
Unshouldered burdens, that awaken themselves when we least expect, derive themselves from points of past light, that has long since left us, yet rings in the minds of those who constantly fear and feel as though life is no longer theirs. They have deceived themselves, and believe the shadows of psychosis to be permanent imprints upon their eyes, they perceive echoes of memories and shadows as though they were sounds and light. There is nothing to do or say, only to wish them health and faith, to give them good tidings of the world that waits beyond this world, and to you yourself, never fall in to their line, never give in to the line that they tow behind them, for they carry it so gracefully and perfected, for it is their duty to carry it for a time, up along Jacob's Ladder.
With the needing moments pressing themselves against the ever ailing mind, there could be no mistaking the words for what existed once before now, their eyes. Fire in death and light in life, the burning embers crystallized in memory alone, long leaving behind the world of immediate existence and observance. There could be no sand to fall within the crevices, to pull and push the mind in to frozen over glass, to slip upon when unobserved. Pulling life aside, to converse of death and the future world that exists without meaning, to linger in a solitary spot for too long, just to prove a point to the travelers, that we are no longer in control of this world or the worlds that lay within us.
To give here, this place, the information needed to continue on towards pathway of total examination, of seeing this world for what is once was in side of our own minds, and what it could be if we continue to reinforce and build upon that world again, and again, and again. To see this world change is to see the world change around your life immediately, to see that time is supporting your ideals, and giving credence to way that you live, and shaping itself around your decisions. I, in my own life, chose to live as I pleased, and compromised where I could, to help those when they needed it, and to refrain when they didn't. A sharpened blade lay in wait for the world that need not now, but need soon.
Pushed in to a corner, and given only time to understand and resolve the issues at hand, we dive deeper in to states of unconsciousness, in vain attempts to save us from ourselves. We moved in to position, an orbital plane high above our own state of mind, and gifted ourselves the meaning of our lives. Purpose, instilled in to our DNA, the fabrication, the blueprints of our design, the nature of our own world is that we are without meaning unless we are gifted that very position within the universe itself. We become as we are, we move through life and see that the framework of our own lives is that we are not without purpose, that we are existence in bodied in a human vessel, roaming this world, this Earth, this planetary expanse from which we are within and among life.
Examine the world that surrounds you, the grass, the trees, the animals, the insects, the mammals, the birds, the reptiles, the automobiles, the aviation, the machines, the computers, the digital and electronic devices, the materials, the clothes, the flesh you wear, the organ within your body, the mind, the heart, the stomach, the bowels. Feel that energy, know that it is there with you, and within every living thing. Systems of this world have yet to reveal themselves to you wholly, but awaken to know them that they are not without your eyes to appear ever vigilant over top of their heads. In time you will realize that you are among those who existed long before today, to speak the names of long abandoned Gods is to recognize that God is a collection of ideas, of memories, of passing lines of thoughts and words, the exhalation of air from a human vessel to the ears of another human being, the spirit of God that has echoed out from the beginning of time to now. Long for answers that precede now. Know that we are not without fear.
Un to the flames from which we see the light, the night in which we are given a chance to see our own minds wrapping around the living light. Give un to the world, and see that the sounds that pierce our mind fill the air with silence, and rupture the world with vibrance, and take them, the echoes of vibration. Moved and without meaning, the words reverberate themselves in to the world from which we are seeing. Give the lines of your mind the world in which we moves, so that we could see ourselves in our own lives, without time, without reason, without lies. The truth from which we would be born, is with our minds attached to our frames, our bodies would precede us, and give us all that we would know, in truth, in honesty, and in tegrity.
Slowly walk through fire, to know that you are not burnt by the passing flames, damaged slightly, perhaps, but still capable of continuing forward. Be aware of the death of a thousand cuts, where the accumulation of many wounds ultimately destroy who and what you are within this world. Pierce the veil of your own mind and realize that imagination you utilize is the construction of living wires, transporting electrical currents between chemical machinery that has become animate with energy. Biology is the study of animated chemicals. Linger no longer in this line of thought that life is without God, know that every step you have taken has been set in stone directly before you. You now walk in the line of life that our fathers and mothers and ancestors have walked before us. We walk directly in the pathway that leads us towards heaven. The moment we stop walking is the moment in which we begin to abandon our own line of life. We face and wither within decay enough times to know that we fall apart at the seams too many times it seems.
Between the days of night, and the lingering feelings that undercoat the wired mind, the caffeinated idealism that ruptures and contends with the universe at large, the microdose of reality that contorts the mind to perceive the entire picture once more. Between severed links and atomized cells, the smallest microcosmos that make up the entire human frame, the entire galactic and cosmological structure that is a human vessel, to know that God is as much inward and downward as it is outward and upward. To know that life is with reason, meaning, and undefinable moments that appear when they are least expected and more often than not, most needed.
In cornered minds, there lays an idealized thought, of escape, of freedom, of changing the present for any other course than the one presented to the inner mind, it is here and there that peace and freedom present themselves entirely. To stand the ground of who you are, and rest freely in the face of God, of death, of all presence. To distance yourself from this moment is to die, and leave behind the soul that you had been fighting so desperately to reclaim, to give strength to yourself, in the face of flame and fire, and give in to yourself all that you truly are, alive. Breathe in the words of all that there is to know, and let it be known to yourself that all life is not without reason, or pace, or anything for that matter.
Standing in silence, solace, and lonesome, the vibration of words that shake the foundation of homes, reverberate inside the chest cavity and pulsate light to move towards them, towards trauma, towards death. Psychosis finds its way into ever unguarded crevice, and asks itself to be staked in the line of light, to be move in vibration against all knowns and unknowns. The race towards the end, the preservation of life, and finding the balance between darkness and the light. Meaningless ramblings, that define the age of man, the era of his life.
Give thanks to the hands that toil for the betterment of life, as we create miniature version of our own world, and hope to improve the lives of those that exist inside of this world. Those that see life begin to shepherd life from the grey shores and the silver shores, and block out death as it approaches, and attempt to steal away the energy of life. Diminished in the snow, the sliver of hope that the outcaste inside of your soul had once known. Becoming more than ordinary men, we reached out to hold the universe in place long enough for us to understand, and to be stricken and struck with knowledge that is the divine birth right of all man.
The longer we exist, the longer our appreciation for life grows, so too does our ability to act and be within this world. There are no limits which could be found within the eyes and mind of this world, the exacted mention of our lives ripples and pulsates its way from our minds and finds itself seating within the torrential power house of our eyes, where we observe and discern reality as it is. We interpret the meanings and leave behind their discarded shells, their truth, their soul, and reap what has been sown, we are the evil upon the world, and the good from which evil debases itself. The balance of mind that tips and tows the line between the good and evil of our inner lives.
Pierced against the terrain of prickled minds. There are no widened roads to walk upon, calloused words of trauma and psychology, the memories of involuntary responses push themselves against the nervous systems of those who are in motion. The world as a blackhole, moves itself to and from points of motion, emotion, and every movement in between. Dark eyes and light eyes, the frontal cortex activates and sends neurons in motion, electrical pulses that reach nerve endings, and make contact, and send back signal that the signals received were. Give in to the light, the line of mind that varies indiscriminately.
Decisions made without consultation, the verge of dictatorship. Embers burn in concrete filled corridors, pavemented ground soiled with ash and ideals of vengeance against world unknown. Ember filled eyes strewn across the horizon, and filling the night sky with purple blue ideals, there could be no words to pull apart these amber filled skies. The sounds of warm oceans pulling against the day and the night, cascading and deciding to pull and dismember at that once was, and push the human soul into a bind of values and mathematics. There could be no position from which this world had known itself to be, there was nothing in the sounds of this world that could breathe in the happening air, and give rise to thankless days.
Unlined mirrors, that reflect upon themselves, and the rippling glass that divide the age of day from the aging night. There are two words, the sound, the air, that divine themselves into being apart, though perceived solely as a whole. Humans ripple out their minds, to attempt to hear the word of life without time, and still know nothing of the world around them. We give thanks to these moments, and pull from thin air the syntax that dictates our own existence, the matrices of words that give themselves meaning in esoteric fashion. Know these words and you will soon realize that you are brought up and apart of something you had no of entering or leaving, that existence is without reason.
The sun above our eyes, sets in winter months, and casts a new aura of perception, and changes the way our eyes perceive the air, the sky, the clouds, the animals, the grasses. We grow older and know too little too late what it means to be alive, we alter our course to attain a certain altitude over our target, our destination, but see too late, and move too slowly. We encompass the entire universe with our acceptance, and allow any and all beings to preside within our borders, though not without caution, not without observation of those wolves that would devour the universe from within. The power of corruption, moves and dangles on our corpses, the immaterial world knows not what is to be without, and there are few and far betweens.
Love and life had intertwined, chemicals had become more than reactions, and begun to push the body from which they mired, and saw deep into the future of eternal reward, that this moment was only a seed of unkempt soil, memories that would be washed over by dopamine and epinephrine, serotonin would exit the chambers from which it is kept so secret, and slowly allowed to wander throughout the halls of existence, admiring and adoring the works of existence which had been prepared for them, to them we, Much love, and all luck.
On the verge of eternal sleep, awareness awakens the night mares, and pushes reigns upon their mouths, and heeds the warning of momentum. Movement pulsates and wrings out the bells, and twists metal as though it were cloth, eyes watch unaware that existence could move in such ways, psychonauts and schizophried minds had been born in prophet minds to prepare for this day. There could be no moment that could cast doubt upon the mind that unwinds and wraps itself around the corner stones of all foundations, that pierces through bull shit and the muck and mire of this downtrodden world. There is only a way to see this words that wrap themselves around the era of static movement.
There, in the window of your own mind, is a caressing feeling, holding your strength to where you are meant to be, waiting for your soul and spirit to rejoin the mind and body. Temptations hold high esteem in this plane, and level off the words and width of our own minds, we give in to that which takes us further from the truth, that we exist despite any and or all things. Put forth the memory that there is two gods, in constant battle of your mind, between darkness and light, the extremes that push they of grey eyes of minds of lives, and attempt to pull any and all things into the circular vortex of immortality. There is no further ascension into the mind than that which is not without reason or time.
Pushed between waves, and given consent to alter our course, we begin to descend into mortal planes and allow those who exist to persist alongside of our conscious mind. We alter the course, and descend further into madness, and bring evidence of existence to all those of chaos and of order, and breathe air despite the lack of oxygen among them that list aimlessly. Pushed into momentum, the soul is gravitating high above the order of which we move and breathe, it cascades and moves aimlessly among the trees, a forest of time that long forgets itself in this mortal realm. The ever changing leaves, push and pulsate among the alternating frequencies of light that linger here.
A grey mountain moved into the position from which could be seen, the ever scending eyes which perceive this mortal world, have given purpose to the mind of altered states once more. The sea in which life moves, from point to standing point, has shifted its peak to ever aware mind, the morning that once rose has set in the dusken dark, and left behind the fragments of which to trace the pathway to the halls of tomorrow. The wind has carried over the period of time in which life is meant to bend and break, and brace against. There is wind to carry your mind to its resting place, the memory in which we preserve life is not without reason, not without temptation, there is only your perspective to cling to, a position relative to yourself and your understanding, hovering over dark pools of unaware and ignorance.
Moving back and forth, giving tides to the center mind of my own time. A gift from heaven meant to salve the condition from which ails all man, to give credence to the inner innocence meant to be known by those that exist upon this earth without permission. We guide ourselves from temporal planes and deliver those who follow to those that ask us to walk as wolves. The mask, the guided mind that delivers temptation to those that truly listen to the devil's cries, foreman of all architects and demonic spirits alike. There are no answers for those that dominate the conditional terms of existence, there is no heaven, there is no hell, there is no earth to stand upon.
Given unto a singular sound, the beating pulsation of rhythm and vibration, has given the mind a single point of relative motion, which all things will soon rotate around. There is a point in time in which creates itself, over and over, again and again. Denial is the first step towards foundation, the pillar of light, the autumn day that burns itself into the retinues of shut eyes, a flash of light that perceives the sleeping mind, and awakens the central nervous system to an awareness that becomes itself, and dominates all other systems to rise and awaken. Time pushes itself against it, and brings forth the flesh of a new god, the inner deity that proclaims dominion over all things, known and unknown to this world.
There is no cataclysm from which time is to rupture upon and set upon. To give thanks to the sounds of all that once was, and shall always be, as though it could conceive and preceive our lives simply before we existed, which perplexes the duality of linear time. There is no bundled mind that could see this earthly toiled world, there is no sound in which life is known by all knowns, all beings, all existence from which time could clearly see itself without meaning, without frame, without being. There could be no ultimatum without questionable actions, given to the narrating being, the sole proprietor of existence, the individualized momentum that pushes upon all actions to concede and give rise to the sound and glory of existing life.
Pushing and pulling against the fibrous being, pulling and twisting all that life ever could be. Standing against past cardinal knowledge and invoking radical free thoughts of cannabis infused forethought and preconceptions, blended together inside of a singular human mind. Freely these words pore like liquid from the mouth pieces of those who give their souls away so easily, to bind and twist stress inducing chemicals, the enslavement of another generation of human mind, of human kind, of human time. To give away the momentum that has been gifted by god, and to discard the passing moments as though they were only memories rising to the surface of our awareness, as they are, as they were, and as they shall always be.
There are no grievances to which we indebt ourselves into. We push through all misgivings and cherish the world that we know, and push towards Jacob's ladder, and attempt to end the cycle of misgiving before we truly restarts. Karma has given us a choice, to enbalance the entire universe or collapse upon the weight of all things, the unending death of universal understanding has grown to proportions unknown and unseen by the weighted shell that we occupy with our minds. Stowed away, deep in our minds, is an answerable question that will give faith and indignation to all peoples, and the fate of all things will rest deeply seated there for a great unknown time, paralleled to eastern religions forever more.
Brought to the forefront of our own minds, is a constant reminder that time is progressing, slower than ever, but still, moving. The singular days are contributing towards something unknown and unseen, hopeful as ever. We draw energy from inside of our hearts, and press them against the world, and stand still, unknowing of what will be drawn forward from inside of our minds. We give thanks to the world that we know, and still breathe in salient air, given and without need, we move again and again. The roots of our own home have settled down inside of the monumental world that we have come to finally know. There is no peace without root, no soul without stability, no structure without foundation to build upon. We are without motion and emotion runs rampant through our veins.
There are no words in to which we find ourselves, drifting between dryless thoughts, hoping to add depth to shallow waters, even though the eyes of providence watch over our every movement. We see that our lives are shallow, and we hope to fill in the flesh, the bone, the muscle, the nerves, the veins that course through us, with enough purpose, to sustain the burning light that is our soul, our mind, and our hold. Torn between ravaged worlds, we give strength to demons that do not know the world as we know. There is no depth in to which we are alive nor dead, nor without ultimate purpose upon this earth. We give thanks on this day, to the souls that preceded our own, and to give thanks in tradition, to the passing of the light from our eyes to our gradually descending minds.
The atomic family for which we are born, has divided before our arrival, and we are left bare to deal and address the fallout. There are no words for which offer us salvation, so we devote our lives here, to the creation of words that may bind and bridge our existence long enough for us to walk safely from one side to another. We try to travel and cross this world unharmed, bridging our minds to other minds devoted to this devotion, of spending time trapped indoors and recalling our minds in digital forethought, forbearance, the clarity which arrives when we least expect it to. We devote time to summon that which we thought would be forever lost to our own inner selves.
There could be no answer, to the questions which sit in silence, without mind or matter to collect upon themselves. There is no god head, no divine being which ordains all motion within this universe, even the universal soul that moves moves in unawareness, unprepared for the tides of time. Plans set in motion years before now have given us no time in which to give our own limits, we change and alter our lives, and gives into them the answers for which we now know as our own lives. We live within the limits, and give them altered courses in hopes that they reach a better destination than they are currently upon. Deriving and giving hope to the bottom of our own minds, we give the answers into ourselves, and hope to find that we are without a true answer.
There is a mountain of feeling underneath of all that you know, piercing your subconscious mind and bringing itself to your awareness within every breathe and step that you take. There are no monuments for which you could arrive upon and see the true state of your own existence, it is a fluid motion that continues to change and move even when you descend and ascend into the stars. Your mind leaves this earth more times than any other soul could ever possibly know, but there is no true way in which to save you, to stave off the infections or prevent the waves that wash over top of you. We anticipate death and health, wishing to prevent death from decaying our mortal vessels, and we see clearly the emotion that comes with death, we attribute failure and loss as our own doing, the ultimate guilt.
There is no sound in which could be followed, the close aligning truth to guide you, from here to there, from memory to reality, and instill matter into your dark mattered energy. The spirit becomes upon the sigil lit night, the sign and sound of sound reverberating into an unknown life. Is it you to you which know? Have you yet found the sounds of your own life, living on without out, continuing to infatuate your family with your name and fame? Have you followed your soul to their inevitable conclusion, again and again, or have you deviated off course so many times that this web unto you begins to spin?
In cryptic waves, the oceans filled to the brim with wealth unknown and unseen by the human beings within the simmering cities, has left behind a message for those who follow to follow. There is no mark in to which could pierce the universal sounds that alter the world, that take place next to ever exploding fissure points, the deadened oceans that marvel in their own demise. The cowering towers, that linger over of us, and peer into our minds as if they and we were I. A universal mark has left itself inside of our eyes, and the spirit we occupy is without demanding retribution, and without a solar flare of war.
To alienate the only mind that has ever been known to this world, and brace for the words that are unsaid, unsainted and without cause. To brace for the impact of a thousand worlds colliding into each other, and attempting to fuse together. To ignite, to tear apart all that was once known, to deceive and rape upon the unconsenting and unprepared mind. There is no greater, more promising avenue, than walking down this dark path, and leading all those lost souls from despair and temptation to the greatness that awaits us in another life, to get there safely. We move forward and press ourselves against the precipice, knowing that there is something there, waiting to exist.
There is a roticulating sound that moves between today and the winters of tomorrow, they cycle in old diseases, unthawing and making their way into our sinuses. We feel the pressure of the heated nose, as we truly know that this disease is what brings us to our knees. We cannot breathe, we suffocate as we sleep, we die to know that this disease will be the one to set us free, to bind time between our minds and the articulated semblances of a different life. There is no room from in which we could ever bare to see the pharisee, the part of life that minds the inner timing of every single thing. We cannot know unless we have seen, what there is to know inside of this eternal dream.
Full of weight and support, moving an ocean without the weight of the world on your shoulders becomes an even, determinate task, that cannot be easily expressed by sloppy words or hands. The world showers the praise of itself, the construction that designed by hands unseen, has become more than humans could ever perceive on this Earth. Terra invicta, the last remaining battle cry of a changing and unreverberating sound, that could echo out into no hallway that is unknown to those that exist on this planet. Faced down and smothered in raining mud, the chance to breathe is minimal and rarely comes close enough to grasp, and we are left to suffocate underneath of this, the entirety of a single daze.
Trees begin to thin themselves, as they prepare to move the ocean from within their branches to down below, to store within their roots for another time. They grace and prepare, long before the sun sets and changes course, and leaves behind the patterns that have grown accustomed, hibernation prepares itself and moves us to the trees and the trees to us. We are united in our common cause, to endure the winters and endure the world frozen over, a million sounds have given us the opportunities needed to embrace adaptation, and move towards where we are meant to be. W prepare our vessels, ourselves and our minds, and begin to move again.
On the outskirts of our minds, there lays in dormant wait, a chemical which will take and transcend our bodies into a solitary flame, that burn ever-ascent into the night above it. There will be no liquid to extinguish, no gas, no state of matter that could disembowel the words from which we would speak as we are burning inside the truest state of being, the cowl we wear will wash from our faces and we will speak as though we are no longer divided, but as one. The indivisible cell, that tears apart that from which we are, and gives unto us the meaning of all life, all light, and gives us strength to continue living beyond the realm of comprehension and stagnated matter, as we decay into a vivid dream.
And even still my body moves without mind, and given the place to rest easy it finds itself without a single vibration of time to call collectivized. There is no shortage in my own life, to find the words and meanings behind the corridors in which slavery finally ends me, ends the tyranny inside of apathy, and gives into light the lines of life in to which we are bond, and finally free of, the center tree of entire entities. We move without cause, and no that we are soldiers in a war that's never fought, nor ever lost, for it is given freely to us, to uphold and know that we are existing entirely without parameters to constrain or refrain what we wish to be inside of our time, a line of light dancing, that we so often call life.
Pushing against the temporal sides of our internal minds, we collaborate to uphold the charge in which we have been given, to protect our own lives from the world that surrounds us now. The only task in which we have been assigned is to calculate the mistakes in between our past passing and incoming future, we are inbetween lines that exist within concepts that outlines the framework of your internal mind. No passing world could shape or deliver the world in which we have come to know, unless given the opportunity to give unto it the passing of our own souls, the task, the meaning, the limitless demeaning in between the inner folding membranes within our entire city.
The change of flow, the direction in which our minds prioritize themselves. We cater to the minimum parts of our lives in hopes to alter the course of the winding river, yet still find it to be without course or reason. We ask that the sky give us rain, and water the plants from which we eat from. We give thanks unto the surron minds that ask if we too are as intelligent as they, when in truth we know that we are, as they are, ever expanding and peering into gateways previously unknown to them or to us.
Becoming ethereal at the point of corporeal returning, exodizing the body to prepare for journeys yet unknown, adventures yet unheard of. There is no time between the days to give into nothingness, the walls have collapsed too many times to give rise to demons, so we become everything we were meant to be a million years before our own passing, death came too swiftly to the unconcerned parts of my own existence. Field armies before you, and see the generalized mind that swiftly carries you from your home to the palace from which capitals have built and prepared for you.
The channel from which our energy derives, has 4 leaf, and glow green in the night. Change the way the world operates, and derives the past from the future, give unto what you know to truly understand that our fixation upon this world is the addiction from which all human neural systems derive. We are the creation of electrical signals moving themselves from one point to another, and are caught between the understanding from which they operate, which are a flash of lightning moving between points and still we give credence that we are eternal and ever more, when in truth we are but moments of time moving.
Pushing against the spells of time, revealing that we burn the value of this world as we wait, simply trying to maintain our own lives. We have given more than could ever be asked of a single individual, and have thus formed coalitions of two, we move towards organization to fight against the spells within you. We seek to get guidance and reprise the minds of those who would dare listen, and give headence to our calls as we echo out in the silent halls, that we are still within them, slowly losing our minds to time. Gripping is the hands which bind time to our minds, and give us no satisfaction until we seek out the answers for our own selves, and give our own minds the chance to grapple with this world.
Having grown to know the world, I retire and set aside my mind and bones to heal in old homes. Facing challenges that have yet to arrive, and seeing clearly over horizons yet unseen. Moving bones from within my skin to face the world as it alters itself again and again. I see the meaning deep underneath. There is no position from within my own soul that could brace against the timing, the changing world alters itself within my skin and pushes itself against my bones, wars won reveal wars yet unwon. I move to stand against myself and do not alter my tongue in the same way as before I was young.
San pulsates, and move between its grains, something unseen and unknown to the level of awareness currently held by yourself, the fragments and grains of atoms, the energy of magnetic polarities, moving and dancing in accordance to laws yet unwritten by man. We see the universe through our own perspective, and soon move to see the universe from infinite perspectives, attempting as best as could to relay what we had found, and to say with great confidence that every semblance of existence had meaning, purpose, matter, energy, feeling, motion, that there was a point to this world, that it is everything. We stand now on top of a mountain, and soon rescind back into the grey oceans from which we are meant to begin again.
So pushing is the limit of light, bringing all the piercing sounds that could not know the world. Defining the limits of light, and bring forth the darkness for what it truly is. Without point, without meaning, and without a chance to be whatever it wants to be. A liquid feeling, within the fingers than pull grimly the daze that holds over the minds of though without meaning, it entrances and chances those who would dare dabble in this art form. It takes apart the minds of what you could have been, mixed in with what you are, and creates the machinery to bind together the separated biological system in side the human heart.
Splendid in the night, the memories that retracted themselves to rectified and solidified points. Casted clay formations that reverberate steel, and echo into halls made of stone and wood. The tearing fragments of passing time has led you to this point of light, still you know not what has brought you here. Standing against time as though is could ever be without you, hoping to discourage or outlast, win over the changing currents and demand that they cater to your existence solely, you become tyrannical. The soul in which you cower in is the only fragment of life left within. You cannot be destined to know that which has already left this world, has no mark for which to follow.
In memory of worlds pass, they had given us many ideals and thoughts to ponder over, yet never enough to satiate our internal drive to be more than what we already are. The halls from which we are buried, has changed by sand. We enter the world as though we truly know what it means to be without faith. Shown to know the way out, we follow instinct and our selves to freedom.
The sound of summer air, reverberating here where winter was once meant to call home, has altered the course of all human history, and from which direction we go we do not know. We push back eastwards, and hope to find solace in the arms of our family, though we had once left them behind, we hope in time to show, that we too have grown to know. Moving past, pushing against our futures, has left us with no choice but to leave behind the world that is dying to change, so we change before we know, what it may mean to be a slave.
Stand tall above the rising waters, as they slip around your ankles, telling you that soon you too will drown underneath of their wave. But rarely is there truth to these words and they words that they say. The words that we had once known, revel in revealing themselves back into our own minds, and feed dopamine as if it were a biofeedback system, from which existence revels. We create alleys of memories, and they cascade us into a moment from which this entire universe has found itself to be with cause, and we know it to be true, when we scream out that we are alive.
The submerging principle, which dictates our momentum, has pushed and pulled the wave of light that carries us from point to point. We are moving and are moved, succumbing to forces that are relatively unknown to our own minds, and still feel as though we have yet to cross the threshold of time in to which we are the exactors of our own estates, our own minds, our own free will. To move and be alive, to die in the line of light that carries forward principles unknown to the decaying minds. We willingly push forward, unsure of what tomorrow bring if it brings nothing at all. We stand as though we knew exactly what it meant to be alive inside of life, when in truth we hardly knew anything at all.
Severed minds do anything in their power to connect to each other. Soft and hardened minds, both collapsing into a singular ocean, ever green and tan, they see the walls around them begin to move them towards a destination unknown. They become arbiters of old worlds, and cater to the lowest denominators, and speak against the high orders. There is nothing that could be done, or shown unto the world, it is without the world at your own eyes. Show the world that you are alive, and reverberate in the vibrations that follow, dance in the glory of the world as you push your way into the inner sanctum. Taste the air for the last time, suffocate underneath of the ocean we walk through, and feel yourself lie to die.
There is a moment from which your eyes glance over this entire world, and reflect the simplest sound, the wave form which informs you that you have made from birth to here, and from here to death. You are standing directly in the central idea from which your life will reveal itself to be entirely true. You stand in your own glory, and bring forth the world to stand directly beside you, to be one and of equal to this universal system of life, to know that your mind is set forth to breathe in air. You become exactly what life was meant to be, fight the world no longer, and absorb your soul into the setting sun of tomorrow. You will know that this world is not without war, but that the war will contain all souls against all souls, unless we stop the world from turning over and falling through empty space endlessly.
Slipping into outer space, the sights and sounds of this old world become more than they ever were meant to be. The casting mold, the filler that we use to create our own selves, it the weight we designed, the frame and network yet designed. We move to stand between obstacles, holding the night sky as though we could never know what it means to be alive. We try so desperately to be more than life itself, as we dive into the in between lines, the exfoliated and exposed lines of light. We try to become more than ourselves, but in truth we do so in a vain attempt to die. We expose the ever verberating sounds to ease themselves into the front and back of our minds.
On the brink of hunger, times marches the human body towards satiation, towards filling all that we are. Cells are repaired by the energy from which we give them, and change the world for the better. Still we move against time to challenge the dominion from which we exist, not out of hatred, but to move us towards a better position in life, to taste our lot in life. The sound of our world changes as quickly as it's born, it moves time to taste itself in the world. Tempting offers to remain solitary and alone, enriched by the world, burn down the walls and leave us a truly empty shell, we wander through time without recourse, and no one knows who or what we are to save us.
The sorbet sounded mind, softened and listless in the darkened night, has left behind the world of time. There is no semblance of time, not in the eye of the storm, when psychosis has finally subsided and you see clearly the walls of the storm, you see the changing time and the lives that lies have lived for many millions of year. There is nothing to stop the changing world, to prevent the high pressure winds from crumbling the city walls, and letting in the flood waters. The shower in which we will bathe has given too many thoughts to the world outside of its own confining walls.
Regeared and repurposed, moved from the frontline homes to deep within the forests, facing the winter air upon my face, hoping to help those who would fight for us all. Bringing forth the machine, digging deep into the machinery and oiling the gears to begin their day, to face this world. There is no sobriation that could solvent my mind, to deburden the pressure placed upon me to alter this course in history, to change at the point and stand directly where I was and turn back 180 degrees and face the winds that push against me. In this moment I am broken but free to be exactly what and who and when I was meant to be.
The stones we carry are often lighter once thrown. Shouldered in our own demise is the day and night of our own lives, the changing and passing season from which we breathe. We know nothing of the old world except for what we truly are, and what we will become, the soul journeymen to complete the unknown and renewing cycle. It is shown unto us to be without cause, without memory, of past traumas, until they show us that we are completely in awe of the changing patterns on the walls of this world. Broken and tormented of past ways, we know the sembling sound of our own daze. We continue along pathways which have no bonded binding, and allow us to move freely from point to point, without fear of dying.
Pressurized lungs, pressed against the heart, building up caffeine reservoirs to address problems unheard, unknown, yet still pressing. Addiction, as a devotion to a single line item, has pressed itself against my mind a million and a half ways, pushing me ever forward towards dopamine and serotonin, I become a slave to my body, and my mind, and my soul follow suit. We are all trapped within this vessel, moving a ship that was never meant to complete its journey, still we move, still we breathe, and hope ever for a better tomorrow. Dreams clash against nightmares, and they contend in arena, trying ever desperately to be the center of attention within my own awareness.
Here in the minimum statements, the outlining of ideas and designs, architects build grand schemas from which entire civilizations will move and dance through, preaching out the praise, washing out the dark days with long form prayers. There will be nothing left here once we have left, our deaths to this world will wash over and be welcoming sounds to those whom we have colonized, those whose homes we have made our own. We march towards our own memories, pulling and pushing them into waves of crystalized waters, that reflect and refract the truest form of a memory, that we are already within enemies. We are the point and fashioned minds that from which time has made us, a silver lined line that divides black from white.
There is no sound within the souls of dead men, yet still their memories echo out into our infinite time and space, pulling and pushing, prodding and demanding that we conform to the forms set out before us. We are molded into existence, since birth we have been moved and pushed to become more than we truly ever were, still we continue down this pathway, and too will our children walk in the same light of conformity, it is their and our destinies. Shaped charges against the outsets of our skulls, waiting to detonate and implode the existence of a singular soul, waiting to demolish what it means to be. Still, in the recesses of space, there is something lingering there, waiting for us to transform and transcend our own worlds into something worth discovering, and so we do.
In the amber waves, the days of our lives, I find myself staring out into the universe as if I was waiting for a pinnacle moment, the peak of the mountain that I am upon now. Unrealizing that I am as high as I could ever be, with every breathe, with every step, every fluctuation and movement of my body, it the penultimate truth that existence is the mountain top from which we stand. Every other semblance of time, experience, feeling, desire, want, need, stems from the point in time relative to our own minds, we are the center of ourselves and thusly our universe. To be without ego, the id, the self of time and want, we are wanderers without homes to call our own, lost to the mirrors reflecting unto us that we are without any meaning whatsoever, that we are dead without souls.
There was no shoulder from which to lay upon, the sounds of crashing windows broke through the waves, and left behind the glass. Our hearts were too weak to bare the weight of the world, so we shed the weight, and became more than living life itself. We entered death and saw the potential future that awaits us there, so we altered course again and again and again. We could never be more than we were, and even still, we waited to answer the calls of the dying world. The shoulder from which we had based our existence was weakened and shallow, without brace and ability to withstand an ever fluid existence. We were truly the moment from which we were meant to be , born and able, able to see and capable to breathe.
Broken memories over wash the mind that sees them transcend into their orbital planes. It makes sense to see the light of life for what it truly is, a guiding and transcending moment which pushes and shoves all living lifeforms into their original super positions in life, in this universe. The place from which existence derives is built upon a space station, lost to the human psyche and without purpose, dying to entropic forces. There is no way back. There is no way forward. Through the universe is a system of control from which all other lifeforms know not their own place, their own way through the dirt.
There in second summer air, the moment of truth had revealed itself to be schizophrenic and revelry incarnate. The sun had surfaced from behind the closed curtain night, and given unto me the listing light. I stop in my own time, reflect upon the changing air to give myself exactly what is meant to be given from a single human being, enough, never more. I choose the path of least initial resistance, and give way to walls the same pressure the same way they give unto me, we exchange pasts, and we pass each other in the night. We wander through lost and longing corridors that beg to be dismantled by feeble and humbled hands. It is not as though life is not without problems.
The seventh day, on the second sun, of the third night, had brought reality into the truth. The sound of what is once was, is not linear in the eyes of madmen, but truly brings forth all that remains within the human soul, the supper sub conscious. It has not brought forward any momentum, nor given light towards the given thought lost within darkness, but still remains as though it is more than a withering thought within a dying man. Decrepitude has lost all meaning within the eyes of all Gods, who see the breathing air as water, to see the sky as an ocean. There is no meaning there in the clouds that is not also ever present deep within the human oceans. Our understanding of this world has brought forth many thoughts that cannot be without meaning.
I alter my life once again, in an attempt to better my future and make easier all transactions from which I will derive and debase my own soul. I set forth the measures and the time, the willingness and passion to embrace all that has become of this world, for that which I give my own word. I change the pulsation within my own skin and begin to take control of helms unmanned and give them pressures back towards my own hands, I become man. I sought and seek the sounds of river underneath, to change the channel of my own portion of existence, to move and reverberate the membrane from which I exist.
On the shoulders of all that was once known, stands a single entity, previously known as man. In his eyes were fire that had not been seen in many thousands of years, centuries pass over centurion lines and they feel the vibration and presence that is. On the shooken and shaken ground, their souls faced the perilous existence that would consume every fiber of their being, the decimator of all souls, breaking the line between their known and unknown conscious. Thousands of years of human progress was broken instantly by a mysterious force which had no name nor meaning in the human line of life. It was without knowing, it was without being, it was only thus, and it stood directly over top of what it meant to be human.
Without the sense of dread hanging over your head, guilt begins to relieve itself from your inner temporal understanding of the universe. Nothing and or no one is capable of deciphering what it means to be without existence, only those who have traversed through and by the way of the dead could truly understand. Still, in the inner symphonies, ringing in the ears of those who suffer from tinnitus, is a moment from which all external stimuli is reverberating against every strand of hair on the human vessel, crying out and making evidence the nature of electric signals from sensors to receptors, and their intertwinement as neurons. From finger to hand, and from hand to mind, is instant to the temporal lobe, which makes relevant this time and place surrounding the human all too pertinent, when in reality it rarely is.
There is a ladder often mentioned and referred to as Jacob's ladder, the climbing and falling of angels in their attempt to rise towards Empyrean, to claim their birthright as the god head. To be the first apparent heir to notice that God itself has finally capitulated to entropy and collapsed underneath the weight of the entire universal system of causality. The threads weaved in between every store cease to breathe, the entire system begins to suffocate underneath the loss of total control. The world breathes for one final breathe before engulfing itself in the dawning of tomorrow. The new age rises and leaves way for the heir apparent to claim their throne before being engulfed with the futility of total war.
Out in cold air is winter waiting to be found, the reflection of sun has no easy movement or parts from which can easily be ascertained, analyzed, recorded, studied, anticipated, or reflected upon. The movement of every part seems to move independently relative to its own being, but when pulled out and seen from above where it had once been seated, it is quick to recognize the piece of God from which it truly is. An organization, more simply put, an organ, is comprised of the cells from which it is, so too are man capable creating larger organs from which to create specific and unique by products when formed together as an organ. Individuals may try as they may to compete with larger organizations, but until all resources are democratized then it is nearly impossible for an individual to manifest a tyrannical empire.
Without motion, emotions run high, and the heart stops upon broken glass, finding itself shattered and asked by itself over and over again to replace the broken visage from which it had originally derived. It was not a point which could be easily accessed by the internal point of recollection, the central cortex to from which the all memories are stored and accessed. It is not without reason or purpose. It moves itself, the moment from which means to envelop all life forms. A black hole that devours intention and purpose, destroying all individual motion and claiming all other star systems as its own. A fascist-tyrannical moment.
So we set out towards a point in time which was entirely unknown to us, we were guided only by obligations and previously lives. Still we move in known directions that could only be described as uninspired movements of air, from our lips to the receptors of other beings. Communicating signals that are misinterpreted by other souls, other memories do not recollect their purpose within life and thus act accordingly, aggressive and without purpose they wonder listless through the universe.
We move forward, and reflect that we are more often than not simply I, a solitude of memories, of experiences, and even reflections. A reverberating memory, that echoes out and reflects itself upon semi-solid materials, liquids reflect upon themselves and vibrate the memories into new cascading experiences that have no intention, no motion from which the world could ever discern. The world is never ending and has yet to ever see the world without meaning, or purpose. Time had no meaning to us then, and we were further into our own selves than any other person could ever know or address, we were far gone.
We create God as an image of what we hope the future to be, to be the apparatus in which our future awareness and existence are to become adapted and capable of surviving, and to hope that we also there and then thrive. To be more apparent in the eyes of our own self, as God and as we once were as an individual cell, the atomic level from which we are to eventually base our entire existence upon. We know not what we once were, and so too may we succumb. Dementia, in the eyes of the former world, the presence of mind that would take us far away from our current situation within this world.
In the early days of forgotten mornings, when words rarely seem apparent, there is some semblance of solace. In solitude is a world that has yet to remember it's true purpose, of exploring and creating a realm for which human beings can truly live in. It is not without place here, not without reasoning to assume that the village from which we have descended has broken into many parts, of which our minds still remain apart of. Some visage of truth has reveled in the dawning of man's existence, as an individual, as a species, as a village, as a city, as a nation, as a global community, and soon to be as a solar system of intertwined bodies.
There is no tomorrow unless faced today, no ides of march wither root into the senile mind of crippled attributes of solitary minds. To have grown in isolation, and to know that psychology lives in all souls, behaviour normal and chaotic, stem from deepened pasts that do not exist in present reality, if time is condensed into a single moment then all will be lost to us, all change and evolution, the big bang that precedes our universe is not unknown to us, it is the exact echo of our own reality, with all energy, all mass, all matter, all frequencies of light converging into a single point, not out of accidence, but because someone in the preceding universe allowed all points to converge into a single moment of pure fission and fusion.
Whether or not this true is unknown, the lines between democracy and tyranny are blurred only to me as I have yet to explore the rivers that preceded each ideal, their sources and their tributaries, their resolutions and their ends. To say of fascism to have been a recent phenomenon, when in truth Rome precedes all western nations, constant reverberations of past empires cling to the ides of Christian Minds, who see what so dearly is their cultural past. Erected here in America are Roman Tributaries Clinging on to their dying worlds, their air is darkened and dampened by industrial behaviours that change not when faced with evidence of their own death. Habitual addiction to constant expansion has corroded and eroded away the true purpose of an empire, to unite the people within her. To admit the collective body as a whole and to be contented with what already is, to know that life isn't about destruction and reforming all matter into ever complex machines.
There is no god to divine the truth from lie, yet still humans among these planes know and understand the way that existence moves within all other souls, there is truth among humans in that they always seem to subconsciously know. It is an earie feeling that has yet to pass over, yet to be fought wholly against, yet to be fully explored. A system of chaotic rhythms pulsate even in worlds that have order, peace and justice exacted upon native populations wholly to prevent the absolute destruction of both parties. Where civilization go, and natives exist, relationships form, through peace, through war, through creation, through destruction, civility en masse gives way to anarchy and as a unitary mass, through creation, through destruction, civility en masse gives way to anarchy and as a unitary mass, unionizes and divides peoples once whole, once separate, and nations are born and bred in this pathway. Empires collect the tribes and towns, the localities, the regions, the estates, into a common people and rebrand themselves to be a common voice between all nations within the empirical nation.
I of Cincinnati Ohio, walk backward through the time and space of San Francisco California, and combine in wholly matrimony these two regions into single unified body, with no consent from either peoples nor their nations. I exist between these two as a foreign traveler whom hath no place to call my own, no home, no family of primo dominii choosing (to say that all members of said family choose individually to be collectively among all other members of said family). I walk these lands as though I could ever be more than just a passing figment of light, without matter, without mass, I quickly dissipate and fly from one state to another, back and forther, forther and back. There is no end to this cycle and thus I make it imperative within my own self to join these two states furthermore as a true nation. By this, I claim that within my own experience, I have experienced these cultures enough to know my own life between them, I see the stable spheres that both individual nations create, and how I am now intertwined between them.
There is no division of selves anymore, we are all in a cooperative serfdom meant to sustain some unknown collectives, and their infrastructures that connect them wholly to unknown communities and city states. Localities build towns and schools and feed their population into industry and academia, who then create regions, regions create infrastructure and intellectual accountence of all systems that interconnect localities and industries and schools together. From here states are built upon regions, who connect regions into a massive estate of democratically elected control, candidates drawn from pools of all classes. And estates give credence to uniting regions into a unified people, a collective membership of belonging to name of region.
Transhumanism is not to transcend humanity, but to build upon it. Complex systems are and have already arisen and build themselves further into our existence. Digital beings already exist in plain sight, only needed to give explanation is to give us minorii members of their races, slave masters give us minorii slaves to hold over, that give us insight into the collective mind of machine and digital existence. Earth is now infected, from human perspective, with machinery that cares not for the human soul, nor the biology, I say this knowing that humans preceded digital kind here, although in my own life time, the line of experience that I first hand have known, have always known digital machines to exist here, I have always been in interaction with biological beings and digital beings.
On the edge of a darkness, in the temporal lobe of a frontal lobotomy, driven in from the darkness was a memory without edge. The blurring of the line, the sound that eminates without any reason other than to stand between the lines of light. The dying of the edge of time, with closed eyes and flowing fingers. Trying desperately to remove as many senses within the human body, specifically the effects that gravity holds upon the weight, enticing skin and fat and muscle to slough off the bones and return to the earth. Hunger and starvation pervade the lonely mind that exist without provisional governments to preside over their constant existence. Individual souls linger on past the point of collectives and remember immediately, though burdened and buried for a short time, the effects that social interaction plays in healthy human beings, their bodies, their souls, their minds. Digital air waves, land based connection, and electrical currents is not enough to sustain a human being, anatomy, biology, must have their needs met in order to carry forward the body into transhuman age.
It is in my mind the cycle of infinity, to cycle between pre-birth and the expansion of our perception of energy. When the apex of one point is finally reached, the journey begins again towards the opposing apex. Infinity as it would seem to be.
We will be among and apart of every single thing that has or will ever exist, nothing will live and nothing will die in the sense that we know and understand it to be. Nothing will eat or defecate, the transferring of energy will be obsolete as in this state of being all existents can exist within their own energy, the energy they use will be in and of itself the energy needed to sustain their entire being without failure, it will be a equilibrium of stability within energy. It will be as we know and understand fusion to be, the melded states of energy, supermassive states of vibrations coalescing and oscillating endlessly.
When you arrived in existence, we were brought forth from the energy that surrounded the existents that preceded you, the animals, their ancestors, their planet, the chemicals, the stars, the universe itself preceded all. In there lay the answer lost to us currently. We were not without reason to come here, to see and reflect upon our all self, the light waves that illuminate the life forms here are here to show us the other side of our own mind, and this is how I perceive it to be. The narrow spectrum of energy which humans perceive is a building block which will continue to expand as we experience a growing of age. We will eventually return to a point of pre-birth, the universe, but in this way through our age, we will perceive it differently, we will not be shadowed in darkness but illuminated wholly by the entire spectrum of energy.
I think of my mother, and what it means to be alive. To see the sun glancing through the window, and hearing the bird song as they communicate the plans of their days, and sing out how they will survive through this day. Their prayers and their religions as they sing out and reverberate the air that yes, "we too exist among and beside you", as they exclaim their own humanity right beside you. Forget not the simple sounds precede where we are in this world, and that our every turn in turn requires and predicates that all life in simple turn must be protected. These are challenging ideals, because they in predicates that all life in simple turn must be protected. These are challenging ideals, because they in our lives do not make sense based upon our current trajectory of traditions, but in due time, all life forms will be protected from the destruction and consumption and transference of energy. Chemical, Biological, Digital, and all impending advances of life will be free from tyranny and slavery, but this too comes at a strange cost, unprecedented to those who have suffered the dementia induced by birth.
To stand against sleep is the peril of fools I suppose. To know within my heart of hearts that those who once guided me instilled me with this tradition to protect over me, to prevent some daemon from taking or controlling every part of me, wresting my own body from my soul and imprisoning me to see the action of some unknown force taking my body away from me. One day, I fear that I may too experience this sensation wholly, the taste and sight, the smell and sound of my body, my mind, and soul being entirely wrested away from what it means to be me. Within my own mind, I conceptualize that this event would entirely mean the death of me. A deepened and darkened fear that once over, once light has slowly rolled back from my shores, that the story of my life, the piece and the part I play, will be without context, it will be listless and randomized sequences of events that lead not from one point to another, but are entire life times cut and pieced into fragments, stitched together to form what it might truly mean to be of schizophrenic kind.
In the parallel lines of my own existence, the simmering lines of past persistence, I see my eyes begin to wither down, to settle themselves again. Sleep before me slowly goes forward to take a piece of me away. I suppose it is only fair that I draw out a few more lines of light to take back a few pieces once taken from me, a slow and subtle game. Transfer rings are the only place left for me to be. I see that transience of my own life and wonder rarely what that may eventually mean for me, to be temporal within this plane, to soon suffer dementia without retention of my own cells, my organs, my mind all soon leaving me to be alone again. Within the darkness to one day reconstitute what it means to be alive inside of life again.
To know that this world is paralleled to darkened visages of human past, our history precedes us too, and to be a beacon of light to guide those from within dark harbors to where we are, to where we will go, is a task that I have not currently known. Maybe I will grow confident where I am to be more, but to stabilize the souls I rest within requires more than be deemed acceptable in the growing of my own age, maturity will present itself to me time and time again, and I suppose it wise to listen to calm oceans, let their gentle waves wash over me, knowing and not knowing whether I will be returned safely to shore or washed out to sea where uncertainty may protect or forsake me.
I see the lines begin to form before me, that I too am beginning to walk the same path as my parents, to be parent to a new soul, to summon from the dark aether the stardust to reform into a new light, a new soul, a new sol. Time begins to lose meaning, and I see that grace precedes me wherever I go, all that need follow is the calming and relaxation of my own soul, to give birth to a better man within me, before I too give birth to a better man and or woman than I could ever be. So too is the world of my ancestors, past, present, and future.
In the morning of this May, I can see not that which has come before me without first looking into my own mind to hear my thought collect themselves in this way. I am beginning to hear the words of my father's echo into my own ears and label the world that I live in. I listen to what they say because their experiences precede my own in their own way and have left me in the capable hands of my own human, my own soul, my own being, my own existence. I was led here, hand in hand by my parents to where I stand. I am now and was once protected by their beings, and for that action and self-sacrifice I am forever grateful.
It is not easily said that time is without consequence, that the point to life is existence, there is no higher point yet known to me or those whom I have known. Even if such information was freely divulged between us, there would be no sharing of emotion or chemical feeling between us. God is not built from information alone, but between the relationships built between the fragmented parts of their past soul. Examine for a moment the atoms that comprise the cells that comprise the organs that comprise the human, so too are we as humans in the long chain towards god, we will one day though recognized by us or god, will be the atoms of their being. These are simple and cyclical patterns repeating. The person that we comprise will be comprised of all humanity, of all life forms, of all chemicals. We will be galactic in size and imperceptible to a human without the education or mind to perceive that which is aside of our temporal life.
Being prepared is education, and social interaction, listening and conversing, reading and writing, singing and dancing, recording and painting, expressing your mind to be what your mind is at that singing and dancing, recording and painting, expressing your mind to be what your mind is at that present moment, there is no right or wrong here, no semblance of perfection can be found without first letting go of the shadow that surrounds your mind. The soft and scented sounds that resemble the change within your life are first imagined within the changing of the light. Change your environment when you begin to see stagnation occurring, I do not necessarily mean location when I say environment either. If you are surrounded by safety and comfort, identify what it is within this world that grants you said protections, examine the borders and edges of your existence and see all that resides there, it is rarely casted in light and needs to be seen by the center of your mind's eye.
What is found here is heaven and hell, when having past experienced recent desynchronization the mind is put into a state of depression, of being underline the center line of balance, and requires time to reach the sub-apex of it's trajectory before slowly climbing towards another opportunity of synchronization, a period of hell. Synchronization is much the same but in the opposite direction, towards heaven, going up towards it's apex and slowly descending back to a point of desynchronization. Now the point here, is a point I have not achieved prior, but, the goal is to synchronize both in heaven and in hell, and follow this line closely. If you are prepared for hell, you can traverse through it relatively unscathed, same for heaven, you can be equally harmed in heaven as in hell.
It is, to say, my life, is not a simple measurement of beginning, middle, and end, or rephrased, birth, life, and death. My life is a simple cycle repeating itself in varying oscillations that differ in their frequency, and by this, I mean, causality, that within time are events that repeat themselves and reveal themselves to the one who perceives this world for what it is. Yes, you, as you live and breath are among those who perceive this world for what it is. These oscillations connect and intersect, synchronize at some points of time, and desynchronize at other points of time, what I know is that synchronization feels good to the mind, and desynchronization feels bad to the mind, and that both still ultimately give way to time and level back out.
Torn in between day and night cycles, trying to determine the best state of mind within each, and calculate where and when my life is meant to exist without destroying myself and those around me. I reduce my intake of the world, I slow down my consumption and begin to rest more, utilizing my eyes and my ears more so than my legs and my arms. I am building up my mind, just as one would build up the muscle and fat on their bones. I know not why I do so, in truth, it seems only as a survival mechanism to stay here, within a home, among family, within the good graces of those that know me. I, torn between contentment and apathy, dignify inaction and simple animal existence as the root cause of my being here. I do not seek to build high towers between me and other animals, but high tower existence is the only path left for me to walk upon within this temporal plain, so I walk slowly and surely to where I am meant to be.
I suppose it may have been my own doing, priorities within the waking hours are limited and chosen by the senses of what to pursue, building towards moments to create beautiful dreams, when in truth most dreams err on the edge of lucidity infused nightmares. Shadows of this world present themselves there and take the sleeping mind most apparent of it's own existence and remove the barriers of protection and safety to present all out warfare as the only means to reawaken. Funny too that eventually in the realm of awareness, without sleep so too does the waking mind begin to present all out warfare as the only means to fall asleep.
I began early in the sunlight, on a off kiltered sleep schedule that makes sense to third shift members more-so than any other. The night time became the only place where I could find the peace of mind that allowed me to be myself, and in there I found reason to create new worlds and terraces to walk out upon, within the mediums presented to me, expression was all that remained for me. Gripped in the teeth of my own delusion, my own breaking away, I stood above my own eyes and lost true focus of what I was seeing, and began to perceive the senses that surrounded me wholly, I began to hear, to taste, to hunger, to smell, it was as though time had finally allowed some semblance of progression, only to be dashed away once more when sleep was to finally summon me, death, as minor as it was, disbalanced an inner part of me.
Night, in which we see light, the day turns from summer to the spring time, reversing the direction and pulling symbolism within our own tunnel of time. We notice too frequently the diminishing of our own plights, our own successes, our own value, our own detriment to this universal system of passing light. We know that there is no point in which the world turns in two directions as a singular point in time. The grants in which we accept and in time return, to the shore lines from which we pull and push ourselves against. Know that our lives are not machinery, we are not meant to see this world without the grace of God, and without God, we are destined to fall in to remission of passing sins.
The thought that reemerges as the shore tides rise and fall, that we are perfect no matter, with matter, in to which we are. Life is not passing, it is eternal, we are not fading unless we perceive light to be fading, we know that we are apart of systematic words and thoughts and feelings. Through heaven there are millions of demons attempting to redeem themselves, so often pushing against the redemptive spirits that are waiting in perfect order, in a full assembled hierarchy. Against blue skies, the vibrating lines of fusion reveal themselves, and Jacob’s ladder is revealed to be an entire assembly of ascending points.
Through reverberations in the solitude of existence, is the true poignant moments in which we see the world that surrounds us and our souls. We see that the problems within our machinery may exist and lay outside of us and within our environment. Feeling that the universal constants that surround us move us and challenge the inner sanctum in which we protect constantly. Pressure pushes against our bodies and our minds, rising complexity challenges the notion of Entropy and levels the playing field of our existence. We know and see the universe as it is, and rest and dream of what it could become when we leave this place. See the line of light and notice how deeply it moves us from this point in time towards heaven, the emotion of time that paralyzes our life.
Broken walls that outline the form and figure of a home. Glass walls that let light through, yet rarely let light leave and bounce around in the world of light itself. Figments of images that pass over and through retinas. Funnel and tunneled vision that blinds the user in to seeing a universe that cuts and tears through the world that surrounds itself. To see and to know that motion is still moving, whether the mind or body recognize inertia or not. To know that there is more to life than what we currently see, and to prepare our souls to encounter ideas and peoples that we may not yet know nor understand. To recognize the image of God, that our souls are intertwined and bound for a similar destination, twisted and in motion towards the manifestation of heaven.
Stars fall on dead nights, leaving no room for light to shine through the glass dome that over looms itself in our magnetic field. There is two polar points, North and south, positive and negative, in which all energy pulsates in and out, through and around. To see the night stars, to know that all light pollution fades away in our future, should we turn it away from here, we see our own world through the eyes of the enlightened. To see the universe as it is. We hyper cycle through different spectrums of energy to determine in which it is best to see the true universe around us. We see the stars as they are, as they will be, and as they have been millions of rotations around our own sun. Relative and unconcerned, we spin in and out of control.
Shop your mind, look through the aisles of memories, and try to find the food that feeds you, that gives back un to you the energy in which you replenish yourself with. See the light within the dark hallways, glimpses of waves showing through and within the walls. Cast out the night world, see the true world, see that time could not be inside this world without something to perceive it. Know that the universe expands and contracts, we cycle relative to the universe world that flows around us. Know that the world is not only ours to own, that it is the future in which we gift to our children, to see that the future is all of ours and theirs and ours and theirs. See the world, know it, know the passing sounds are only that, passing, to be recollected in your memories many times and in many different ways far from now.
The way in which we direct our lives along the current frame of mind, in which we move the world with the ocean. Air waves pour down upon our mind and we see that there is nothing left to lose here, so we learn as we go, reading and letting light intermingle with the universe that surrounds us, hearing and seeing, trying to interpret the signals that we are surrounded by and affected by. We open up ourselves to experiencing the recesses of this universe so that when we return to Earth, we may have something more to talk about, to be there, on the side of Earth that edge of Heaven, where two Orbital Circle Planes intersect and create a bridge. We become this world of light and life, and see that there is nothing between us that could interrupt the pulsation of aggregation.
Pull yourself against the frame in your mind and realize that it is not the only motion in this universe. Realize again that you are not the only thing that exists here, and push yourself against the moments, not out of fear, not out of love, not of conceptualizations that are not your own, but because these moments will keep repeating over and over and over again until you pull yourself through them. That is what these moments so constantly are, fall back points, in to which you see your self at the pinnacle of existence, and save yourself in a single moment long enough to contain enough information that would release your mind and allow you to see exactly what it is to be where you once were, so that you may remember, and see exactly every single sound and frame of mind that derives itself within your tower to God.