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