lovely

spaces scope

rambunctiously inert via a tremble, it's coursing as a current that pacifies the form flown in smooth curves. Curves opening gates to the next.

rigid and paralyzed  it wont be so in that.

a spell of seizure.

something sustain...

sometimes a weight of importance gathers around a dream and then in one fell swoop that dream collapses.

it is exactly like feeling.

If you pay attention you will see that feeling is true, yet it shifts... it is fleeting. Felt between the moments of words and linguistic perception.

you will have a hard time understading me at times

my body is ready..

is your body ready?

In what tone do i say this?
that tone sets the stage for meaning.

kins

One of these days i'm going to change the medium of posting. I have written a lot of crap in the past few years, mostly inane bullshit. However, i find that i still have messages to express, yet i find that the medium of the words does not give me access to motives that desires expression. The pure one does exist within the machines.

Rather, the words of text seem to lead me on in and of them selves. No manner of direct context approaches my mind's desire and rather i am lead simply to write words which could be translated to one word: Null. The audience matters not, for i am the audience and the reception of these words has been taken within already.... And least i consume my self in wallowed ways i would easily see that among a perception of the one is a sea of infinity for what could be labeled... And fabled. And if you ever knew me you would know that sequenced rhyming and melodies in patterns are what spur me. Inspire me. No. More.... They provide for me the justification to exist and hold within these elements i have collected without a need to see my life as a ponderable thing... Rather, these timely signatures from the earth click like a word spoken to me in a language that i do not hear often yet i am fluent in...  they speak to me and say that what i am seeing is real.

poem-tree wid pics

water, a mote, in mouth, take note.

the cool clean essence on sip,

you cna easily take a pic of each full ,monnnm

I am finding it quite difficult to write of old and ponderous things. Means and ends and reasons why we tend to all of these bends of will. The gold and mint of coin, the reason why a man will choose... the reasons why a woman choose. I am finding it needless to write of such things in drawn out words and sentences. I caught a feature fallow in my mind, once laid to rest, but now upon the witniss i would rather hence attest... in ways which catch my gaze towards my own self in novelty, to scout the hidden feature of what life shall bring to me..
Yet it is not purly for gain.

Once i might instill, or try, a motive towards the cell. To wind the features, endlessly, towards digital realms. Perhaps i would suggest that you change ways to profit more. Now in the end i see my place for lessons of  this subtle lore.

come an play a trick, you gon an fetch me needs in pale
go walk pon rumbled stone, the break an shatter, pounded shale..
retail on in an out those less then fortunately sound
to dig the trench and mound and build your majesty the crown

half of before

to take a mans life

is to find that you have sundered you own

the flesh life did loan

seeks solace of breath and bone

a form that once.....

pushed thoughts through swirling life intoned,

but crush you did and sunder

the coursing of their wonder

their life..

shall end.

enter the gate.. 

open your heart...

 once in silence feel the wind

all these lines
weave tapestries

of heart...

evening star

D5, A5, B5, C6, D6, C6, B5, G5, B5, A5...
D6, C6, D6, A5, B5, A5, B5, C5, D5

careless without fear of my loves betrayal
stand beside me in the light
of stars,
love.

cold is night's wind
but warmth from our embrace
purple light
seeks
to remind of
why..

watch your wonder rise and fall
like stars
in the night
timeless as  your motives fall
with me
listening close
to your heart

dream with the heart that enlivens you
our ancestors sought to rise
for you,
love.

stray your mind towards
the glimmering evening star
watch it watch you
ride the light
our life

evening has now come again
our gaze, once again...
drifting from the hidden place
where you
hold the dark
staving off....

...........

mruhghhhhhhhh

multifaceted viewing stone

(it only goes twice, while i have 3, so add extra in mind)

Random Morning Free-style Vr 2.0

I’m cold to the bone

All my life I have wandered alone

Though billions intone

Those others stray from my mind…

I trust my heart

To seal the truth of what I find:

The essence that reminds me

of seeking and of finding

that love

of mine.

With one breath

Rises the fate

That two hearts long to- to align

For this life

Dreaming of faith

in love

shall I now presume
to become all that I am and pursue

The wonder ensued

The wonder she still invokes..

or wander with

All thoughts wrest into needless flight:

Obscurely swirling blindly

A chance hands clasp in binding

for warmth

From cold

I am here

Waiting for you

To reveal what you hold inside

This unknown

Channels a dream

Of life

now follow the dream

calling forth to establish a scene  

the things we have seen
leaves motives unbridled... yet,

still cold reserve…

assumptions dancing through the verbs…

the cells inside enliven

coalescing an alignment

of love

for you

all my heart,

all of my love

every thing this life shall reveal

all my will

given to you

my love.

she likes

She likes to fuck shit up...

dont she?

sad panda, lol

lol sad panda :D

Luridness

I wish that i could write of loveliness, sweetness, tenderness, joy, surprise..A novelty of a life in seasons, a heart that beats with happiness,To find my self in lightness, in freedom, expansion. To spin about in even shapes and pulse with feelings of my love..

Instead... i write of emptiness, of longing, a sorrow, the weight. Heavy features cloud the mind which cannot bring a change.
A dreamers fate when alone.
The heart it beats steadfastly, pumping for a chance...
From waist will rise explosions, coursing, glimmering, tingles, rolling light.
Imbued then for a moments chance a dream to dance the lovers dance.
-cheesy-

fades quickly though, who shifts like this?

he he he

A claim from me of your shadow is the attention of my own, 
and when you point to mine as well we then become the same. 
Should this then be justified, to move our selves to this? 
I will say yes if through it we quell the line of intent those forms expel. 

Does quell then lead us as if we've moved? 
at last transparent in sight and in mood? 
with memory to move by what attentions grasp, 
and already again we start to maintain a past. 

See, there is more to the abstract then memory or sex, 
or leading attention to forms of the next. 
Or even the lines which bring from to the scape 
for the witness towards construct of worlds in where we meet. 

It's more then our knowing of your memory and leadings, 
and far more then the affect put forth from proceedings. 
or the memory of action of you within another... 
already abstracted, and unknown still abstracting. 

There is more to the abstract then sound, memory, movement or sex... 
or even the act of bringing our attention to the next. 
Merge with me, 
least we still become these shadows.



CAN U REMEMBER THE PIC?

Synsepalum dulcificum

Coming on with such certainty is the curse in the mind,

implanted

It is granted that the course of this wonder is frail

wandering and flighty, like a shadow flickering in the night.

This Initial pursuit of a sudden racing heart

is quelled and crushed without regard or care.

No word or sound, 

but a feeling remains,

and then just one expression you submit

Never obtained, reciprocate forfeit.

It is okay though, i know.

The summer born child does only exactly as she desires

and while mired and tired and loosing ends which once inspired

she reaches into the darkness seeking light.

so like the season it self, so bright and warm,

soon fading to the falling leaves and storm,

then warn for winters approach... 

can she truly maintain as this shell?

as a ghost?

sunlight's gift

Keen amoungst the lore lays symbols laden with, inmeshed.
The lines collasece,
they weave and dress,
and form assembles
we attest.
Now best, we seek, through learning eyes, the ever changing shape's surprise,
to thrive and die,
the feast of pies,
the ripe enchanted taste of fries.

Sweet potato, no doubt.
Least you a lout...

And the list goes on, endlessly.
The step and pop of rhythm's grace, astounding taps to set the pace...
And chase, the spin, the grip, release..
The shapes and sounds abound with fate.

And all the while our times compress.
the heart beat sets the pace in chest.
the breath goes on without our mind.
Leaving behind...
Leaving behind...
That once-born dream.

The sun explodes...

what but love could derive a meaning from that event?

Helllo

Please forgive my open soul

your dream revealed the will to hold:

the earth, a life, a love,

released...

the movement of this dream, 

to seek.

lol, trutles

Эшлин

A stern face.
A sobering mind...
A calm and direct selfishness,
begging for emulation.

a loose flow,
life's precious blood,
a heart free to emulate
expressing volition without yet knowing consequence.

in the silence i sit to enter quickly the hive mind

it comes via those close first, are they interfering?
next i dissolve my self of their concerns and i move like the wind,

searching out novelty.

the chatter no longer becomes me as i slip

im totally established on lines that have nothing to do with me

observing what i can within my own limits.

am i seeking gain?

The taint of my approach will arise eventually...
Each melody and note becoming sacrificed to another,

unrequited biology some claim.....

H's lesson

Harvest of the heart.

Each heart is so precious on this earth,
beating still while the mind is silent and placid
as the newborn child....

yet watch the sun rise each day
can you see the message that is building up?
as we travel the distance...

now pause..

Have you come from afar only to deny thus?
have you come from so long ago only to run away..
absolving your heritage...

Keep watching.

and seeking

free thinking

.....

come to me and do not shield your self from me
do not half way engage me as though the motive hidden breeds a worthy context...
a weak lie.

come at me fully to speak the contents of the realm,
can you focus on that which was felt?
It is never a static thing...

Look first to what assembles to remind you of where... Then feel and watch, dissolve your self.
notice how what was seen evolves to become a new, notice how your stillness is compromised when the image becomes static again....

The static image is the base construct, the false seeing. What must occur is that you must tract this initial state and accompany it within it's active evolution. Time is the most important element that we must manage.

Do you really want to continue?

we must know that upon each moment the construct changes and breaks apart, reforming. We must endeavor to catch it's speed.
If we ride with it take care....

Shade

Aide master of angles takes away the pain... delivers the gavel and winches ipon the frame. yes

Yes..

they walk the hard scapes, pounding the feet at the lurid pace. redefined they feel in their suits. Let us watch them..
Let us watch them...

The city is a place of much summarized, contexts developing and betraying the eyes... It's a far shot from domains more human and alive. The city is dead...

the city is dead like a vampire, forever alive yet unfeeling in heart, emulating in mind.

I learned that from true blood.

obe

All i really care about right now is lyrics. It is hard to write out lengthy descriptions of the mental content that desires to become expressed. Rather i am looking for "key words" that match within my own brain to the meaning that the emotion within me wishes to express. My problem though is that my emotion changes almost upon each note which makes a general context of the song hard to come by. I personally believe that it is because the "songs" i want to express linguistically are rather short and contain only a few seconds of sound.

Dissolving the constructs so that it might be free..

bob2

you need to represent entities
in the fucking construct.
cuz they ain'aun be wid out you,
see?

he keen an rue ta trap'n choo(se)
a move, pra'sue, a do it you.
cuz time 'efore you sought'n make
'these time an ease fer soul ta break...
see?

naw see and make, you take'n break,
the fate and state, another's weight?
and wait.. negate,
seen potent fate...
release the flow
....
asunder him why dont ya?
--------------------------

In other words it means manufacturing fictional entities will always be an art done in this world. The extent of their form is often larger then most would be at ease to know. Adults and all make it in to fold.
and more then Jesus too, much more. Some say there is no fiction, really. Thus the meme extends from a real one... but.... ahhh... using the story of that one for a purpose of your self is a different type of beast, even if it is to keep the peace among many... and even under the clamor which ensues among those who believe that such things as "threat" lay outside of the pending scenarios we must navigate.

teek

melody invoke us
heaves the shallow day,
an must...

free style piano as a guitar

Rolling shen by DJ Chiral


Some real O.C right here

GM&TBS

cheese total

it is good to know realistically that there is none but you.
it is good to know that as these words are written there is no one in specific that can be identified.

yet the mind swims. I swim. The poignancy of what i wish to transmit is not vague and removed, yet i find that to approach it concisely in a short and complete form is not possible. Rather i must search for it my self, entering different avenues of attention to scout what features assemble... reflecting on the feeling, on the emptiness.

who then leaves time for love?
Who then leaves time outside of function to display something pragmatically unneeded in the machine world?

and most importantly.
Who integrates with this machine world...

and how does their integration evolve to the total display?

raw and uncouth
expelled and amused
regionally reminded of intensity sapped
discovering sequence and use of tact.

------------------
this is just called "random practice"... just like vague shit and no real idea. only idea is to listen to sounds and music song and type little lyric form constructs that go along with feelings around those regions enlivened.

Yep... so read the incoherence and detected the easily spied subtle theme. I do not fully know or intend its form but i see it start to rise up. The timing has to match.
-----------------------------------

Welled up and so charged are forms seeking to enable...

sold within the aspects of the all truth found, once enabled

stable is as those sundered lines
writhing still to reform and bind
at loose ends..

keep your live a shallow fate in desperate lies.

i don't know what you should think
catch a phrase from the TV or read-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.
a new book.

spinning spinning spinning spinning spinning spinning....
a new note

Dark shadow form says hello to the light which chases it....

rise up like a morning sun see...
these here birds, not merely chip and chirp,
as to say,
"i am just a bird and i'm enabled simply to peck and run"
"chirping with the consequences of echoing a bird tweet sound"

"i will fly upon the wind and seek the skies"

this whole world is right before your eyes
beckoning the sacred call of light
to bring...

the shadow is a fleeting force
running from that which devised the source,
an approach,

watch it as it leaks and drips, it runs around
hiding from the truth
that it
is simply void

polar eyes see the truth rise and then it shows...........
that the shadow chase the light....

a green coat
Chinese man walks on the cobbled stone
calling out towards the new sun that shone
simply there....

as the river comes it shallow essence ripples and smlouchks around
gently trickling a soft small pebbly sound

deer does step, then stops its pace and look all around.

keep it still and under-lorn, like shadow....
what you seek is not an able choice
but a fate designed by something else
more then mind.

keep an eye on Cheney cuz he still wants to run around
stealing all those eyes and hearts to save his soul....

Cheney boy........ oh what have you now done?


000000000 FROST
the rain gathers in the clouds
move forth as the sun pushes sound,
waves of light

what we see, a flying one
rolling through the clouds and lend
bringing scope

now are at loss to find the reason to spin the sounds
holding out cuz fear needs its time to wrap

gathering the dark spin-drill of the sharp
twisting round, constructionally eating the lives..
it is the bypass between then mind and the dream.......

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

would u forgive me?

nanotechnology is a high distillation of the core components of the human heart.

All manner of pursuit expounds throughout the orders of magnitude.

the inner sanctum of the small relies only on that which perpetuates it's wavering and decaying form..

and in the macro, all that essence shines through the enabled faculties.. enticing the most high of mystery.

in that realm the global terrorists become something more then a nuisance. They become part of the global movement towards unity, agents of those which pit the 2 against each other.

ewe

the empty streets are a beauty to behold.
the morning light in the ally, sternly observed, gives loose a puff of dust from the morning wind.
reaching the eyes around the shoulder to spy the rising sun.

the man looks towards his open hand, releasing dreams into the palm.
closing his fist,
gazing upwards and around,
 all emptiness surrounds him.

a will to go on rises up, a fantasy of motives enticing,
quickly giving way to crushing sadness.
of that which has been forgotten...

he steps forward, dropping the head deeper each step.
recalling empathy of death.

like a taunting dance: male and female alike invite him to a past,
a merry go round of memories flushes through and fades,
until...
no longer can be touched that which was.

and open gates about you evoke the fantasy alive,
but what ever perks the will to search
leaves one at a loss to act
without her love...

and she
who stands among the dancing forms,
was built as a lie made of light ascribed selfishly,
an earth untended and ripe, wild with mystery.

before it was gone they came in ornate droves,
like oil and timber investors to a land prepared by the missionaries.
untenable without a direction she reached her arms up in praise,
inviting the mysterious aspect  into her heart.

self induction of another, the inorganic composition,
catalyzes the harvest
until she is void of that youthful spirit
so short lived in this world...
forever lost to the war that was to come.

--------

what is this about?

what shift

yesterday morning brought a deep shift of unknown ramifications. I do not like this new state but nonetheless it imparts information. It started with my dream. Patience is key, or folly....

dream

black hair
gelato...
dont panic
it's just a man.

he leaves for a moment..
imparting urine.
releasing the tides of his form.

the specimen calculator determines his composition,
aligning quanta for the machine mind.
yet the organic opening left in place
reveals another.

a chair rides down the hill...
but something stops this game.

what ever was there to see behind that window?

shared

city lights
only paint the face
darting about...
predation...
how can i not watch from afar?
when i can see so clearly
sleeping eyes.

put on your prettiest dress
and walk on the high heels
commonly solo and unknown
rich with buffers.

will you become the barrier ?
even within all that this night promises..
the question perturbs you even though you ask it your self.

what motive
to paint the finger nails black
and lips blood red..
for a party tonight... maybe..

you don't need a direction
you follow your instinct.

im afraid of your face

gregariously aloof and whimsical
flighty and shifty,
formless...

a rigid basis of logic
protects the wavering light,
setting the course for those without a course.

the time and emotion are one,
intervals aligned,
vulnerable yet persistent.

often harmed...

good twists

the right notes,
rhythmically in place,
entice the held and unrefined
to become free...

matching the speed of attention
like a turned head facing the horizon,
pondering in solitude the multitudes,
feeling strong twisting waves
like love.

we have no control.

and the speed of that realm cannot compare,
the timing is beyond perfect,
unavoidably implicit,
becoming that horizion...

the wind...
and smiles...
and eyes...

how can we hold onto this?

Haters gonna hate, is the theme of the day.

To understand this concept is necessary for growth.
One can take your power through this way if you let them, or one can raise your power (by supporting you in freedom)...  We should look with more detail as to what it means for the hater to hate.

Consider that in the public sphere an individual is put on spectacle for the onlookers of various types. With the presentations given from the individual the observers construct a feeling of either connectivity with what is put forth, or they feel a repulsion. Often times it is not a one sided process but we find elements which we align with and elements that repel us away simultaneously (or at least in sequence). So keep this in mind.

When the hater hates they are attempting to illegitimize our approach and our expression, creating a vacuum which stalls our proceedings. We should spend a small amount of time observing why it is that the hater hates, being able to honestly reflect upon what they put forth so that we might decipher pure disruption of our being from needed observations that others can give us. Often we will find that a person is purely seeking to disrupt us for their own gains. Rarely do we find someone that is open about disrupting us. Most people are more fearful then that and can spend many weeks, months or years extracting our energy and pinning us into a type of energetic submission. And when the cat is out of the bag and we can see how they have disrupted us they generally become haters, or they try to drop the drama and start at a different point with us.

It seems that fear and a sense of needing to disrupt and remove that which we are uncomfortable with contains the root of a type of negativity that exists in human relations. You see, it's not about right or wrong as much is it is about alignment with approach. When we say right or wrong (good or bad, neg or pos, all that shit) what we are essentially doing is casting our vote that demonstrates how we associate with what we have observed. So the semantics are meaningless. What is important is why a person is drawn to align with one form over another, or to repel from one.

When the hater hates what i believe they are doing is attempting to stifle progress to create an advantage used to direct attention away from some aspect of them selves. Their motive is most always steeped within wanting to guide the attention to a place they would rather it be, and thus we have only the aesthetics of the different zones to judge in terms of their effect upon us.

There is something to be said of specificity though, to keenly hone in on the specific root of things.
And there is something to be said of challenge, to challenge the continued direction which another pursues.
And why would we do this? Some might say it is control, but i would say to them that the affect of anothers actions is much more directly upon us then we would generally like to have to deal with. Their very thoughts and attention, memory, active and independent from us, they come into our mind, even as an imagination, and skew our attention towards some point.

And thats not even mentioning our own memory of things they have done.

All in the all the truth be shown that a sober approach towards the complexities of ones mind is necessary to reach a global consensus as to what we are doing here.

The answer might be more cruel then most would like to admit.

HOH

whats this form to you?
words impart, and what?
consume?

all aloof and uncouth
this rhythmic blunder,
USE-LESS

so why continue?
do i taunt?
i'm simply trying to follow
you...

I want to make sure
we both know that your going
to where you are going.

...
....

..

use this time portal master piece to serve up another pact
align the 12 multiples of 8.

can you feel that there is nothing?
yet still hear a voice?

who knows if this series of disjunctive states can hold coherence later.

JOLarthSnuagh

célula explota
la vida cesa.


Ahora son las dinámicas
función de la disolución
dejando espacio para volver a montar:
vida.


una tendencia hacia la muerte

No need for titles

The fact of the matter is that there are many different sources, and many different assemblages of state. Picking among the different forms leads one to the fact that their specific nature is generally arbitrary.

Thus, i propose as a counter to this predicament, dissolution of identity serves more aptly to approach the truth.

And then, as it dissolves, riseth up agian the order to assemble. And in that we start again, maybe more conscious then before, but still we should be ready to dissolve again, like breaths, until we can correctly align only those things which are really needed.

random morning freestyle v 1

http://dialer.bplaced.net/files/som-phantom.and.a.rose.mp3
(melody link, start word at 7sec)

All it takes is but a single breath
just one form that once begot enlivens thus,
a new start....

As the thoughts assemble in the mind
dreaming forth incredulous we find
what sought most.

*
but,
*

Clatkanie's a tragic choice to search for ones convictions inside of love
cold within an atrophy which wrought all these illusions bare
  
now-taste the salt, rise up from sea and drift as wind...

winter comes as the sun angles change
drifting down to a more southern range
listen close...

once begot, assembled deep intrigue
but once heard the voice: a fate defined,
as a ghost...

travel to a land to crush your feelings that fall and stray
holding on to memories that lock the heart in chains

like the dust our state is frail our lives fragile

hold within, powers of potency......
----------------

i am shameless  when im how i need to be to be who i am

Back

Returned from Oregon region scouting mission.

Nice country, beautiful coast... central Oregon seems to suck.

I like the northern regions and also the coast, beautiful and very undeveloped.

Ate at shitty mexican food restaurant.

Felt some of the culture, seems like a mix between people who ride BMX and have babies and hipsters... Plus old people.

no pictures because i lost my smart-phone / camera on the first day... Damn Clatskanie Gnat Creek!! My demon portal has been stolen!

Wence

But i test the essence
and the rest i sent
and the best i meant
I will stumble
i lament
i am in charge
of the horse and starts
I am the one who surmises
And devours the lies
I am one who is to fear
who establishes near:
all of the line that shear
the lies of time