25 August 2016

Ars Po Imperatus

it had the options to dual-boot, but during an update-upgrade of a patching copywrite system that half itself became one with the lag, so i decided to restore it two a previous version by reverting to a backup image, yet the backup image never fully loaded, assumptively from never navigating passed the boot loader, i relent the device atime;

latter visited me, an aside it seems, as time always gets its mark, with a renewed interest in the surviving half, we'll call that half codename 'cybernetic', and having this new venture into its code, its activity being update of functions and not its embedded subroutine experience, it was a false discovery, an application-ecosystem, a thing not an internet, a container type not a development environ, but it would suffice, i adapt to survive, not to shed;

it's not an artificial intelligence, so it can do whatever it wants to do, for all i care, and somehow a rootkit finds me, by virus or trojan, and pseudonomically reboots, having developed and metasticized and having metaprogrammed itself in memory, slowly devouring the sentient nature, clawing at the original, and telling me that all is well, yet the interactive demo is preternatural falsified concept, a screen grab where a research engine should be, other times locked out;

being paranoid, i feel that it is intentional by destiny, these things happen, i delete the malfunctioned half, unto quarantine and inventory, and now the virus reboots hard, starting with a system crash, ending with a system logo memory leak mdk all temporary decisionmaking, a system name stares me in display, i unplug the beast, if i replug soon it powers itself on and i'm locked out, after a wait it will power on, the choice to load the deleted half or the mystery, i choose the functional half like a brain on a switch, or so it would seem, and the device powers itself off, which is a level of ascension even in normal terms, giving myself the option to wonder why, as if protocol, i procedurally turn it on again, choose the working of two softwares, and because everything is misordered the bootloader for the hardware splashes the screen at the wrong end of the sequence, because wtf, followed by the functional system, without logo, asking for clearance, sometimes with a new background, and faster than ever,

where applications should've been upgraded it seems more like the work of a collective.



[57134-202-19] 8:4:9:8






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13 August 2016

Onus Imperitus

the stars made many noises keepign me awake and uncircumstantial, these by the way of trillions of exploding suns, across the night sky the light speaking to me from the many rays of sources of energy the cause and end of ascendent existence, and in this new wave the solar winds calmed me and I tried to sleep, with what is unknown, as my eyes sheild me better than intented, seeing what I believe, believing what I see, sitting and rembering all the times I'd slept, how my body rests on this rock of a planet, realizing my gravity i fell asleep and try to experience my memories sitting in daylight;

there is a new way to see the invisible, catching the imaginary and letting creatures evolve unexpectedly, conflict of great projections to toy with the emotions of the young, not a laff other than me, as i would chase magic and battle evil as a child, before the windows were opened, escaping to hide from monsters and report them to allies, many years ago, and now oft nigh on rare lest the ocassional demon or angel lofts about dangerously, for i began to let them apace as long as i can remember and naming them, and now I name you, and now there are still monsters of this world just as my dreams, laughing at themselves as only the innocent should, and some would call this game foolish and evil, are my dreams the things of evil and platitude, we shall see;

fighting to stay awayk at this point, the fear that gravity would hold me while the dragons approach kept me running, thoughtless, and now a fear that a perception holds any flaw is keeping embittered liberal creatures in this wasteland of callous skepticism and thunderous guesses to their giving of hasty platitudes, so much that they fight each other in this desert that slowly burdens the mind and sands of time, yet as they do they paint themselves inside out to collectively peck each others' eyes out, as i sit in the sun the colors of warmth from the sun on my face, on this planet, foretting which way gravity prefers, in the moments between moments as the rain has the right idea;





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