Yuk-Tor, (Vulcan 1)

kuvor-tor skek-nash-veh 

nam-tor wehk-figlazhau yel 

tvai ugelik wilat au

boshau dular div svi'run 

sagana vah tular ka'a stukhtra-veh

nam-tor tehnesaya maut-zungor

rik katra-ha'gelet

bek-tor yuk wilat

Slender

It has been a long time since I'v ebeen here, and i closed my eyes, i can't feel my skin, these opinions of me, i start to doubt if i'm crazy in my philosphy of syndicate and agency, and i am so, so many crossroads here, the mountains gather at the shore to keep the dark wind from landing, i am already a fire in this realm, i am a wave of autumn heat, peering in autonomy a sunrise of winter, a rain of of arrows from the stars, they chatter still, boxing my voices as i had once been, everything to no one, to none anything, nothing to myself, having trouble defining what is sacrifice to the selfish, back to the back of wit i have to bring myself to attention, altruistic amnesia, memory of this instinct to war, alone in the wilderness, what would a wind mean to them, this primacy, as the last thing i learn in the next, what has been lost on me, this place give me imagination to remember why the bad breaking the patterns of reasoning for rationality and why they did, and yet the world speaks, i lose myself in mystery, changing feinds to fowl from felon makes light work of loud tongues, a job that should not even be, rage fills my ears until the dead forgives me, longing for the the wicked woods, my hands, the time i cannot take, this is the song of the celtic frost, i run from truth, i come into a darkness to find the familiar sound of silence, there will be talking shadows, without the light i feel the time slip thru my fingers, without water my skin boils and there is a darkness to the sun, the others vanish even tho unseen the smokey ghosts of veils and rings and fingers, the edge of darkness is not day but a nother world in day, the spacing legitamte, the season  in predicate a reflection of all that the darkness is not, is night, is naught of hell and ignorance, purile fashino0n and sinister ration and thinking without the wildness of all counted in burden, and when the good world becomes night, it has happened again, it was just now, it was earlier, it is later, i cannot tell you what none have lived to remember, the ghosts, they come into the new realm where the sunlight hides and fire guids, beasts walk with them like windows and reflections and lies, i walk with them to the gambit, trading trinket locket ring and drifting slowly sifting thru the trees and walls of time like shallow shores and honey wine, i cannot control the wizdom listened here from line to lie, tyhis reality holds me, do not accept these pices of promise that cannot be remembered, do not take the gifts that cannot be remembered, unseen i am darkness bound, and when the mortals cannot fathom darkness will it soon come back to ground.

Contrivant

If Cronus permits, I'm donating O+ when this entry goes live. Speaking of which, did you know you can save more lives donating blood to RedCross than repeating #FakeNews you've heard on the tv/web? Click to learn more. and follow @RedCross

I'm not going to generally be worried about this next part, you can quote me, i feel safe saying what I do.

The spectator patriotism of raunchy dissent from liberals over the rule of law that approaches their fair-whether sense of smell, considering the last eight morose years, is absolutely delightful. Uninterrupted sentences giving me liberty to not be interrupted is a bliss, i rarely get to argue that the problem is endemic of the Tourette's, and not the other way around. I forget what I was saying, moreover, it sparks the manipulative side of me, as it does the motivating row in political diatribe, like an outright tantrum when it's just a game.

I'm in a reading mood, perhaps I'll start with the pale classics and work my way clockwise.

Too much acid burdens the skin, weakens the body's cells inside and out to cancer, and we must be clean. So we drink the proper ph water and eat the proper foods, in too much meat we could scour the brain, but what if it were not enough vegetation, all that growth needs. It would take years for me to taper-off into eating only old growth, the remnants aiding life. What I feel is mine, my opinions, you cannot have them, I am not a sign on your journey, there is no perfect score to an incomplete test written by assuredly an imperfect person. If they cannot harvest, and knows not why, then might must be an option.

That must be it, the masses don't contribute to creating the remedial tests they take, whereas life is a test, they contribute as much.

I hope this finds you well, like taxes or stupid opinions, it's a tea whistle added to a crashing spaceship. There was this talk of fascism, not being sarcastic, I just don't think you ever adjusted out of the irony equation of a larger function. Fascism is more akin to corporatism and union prevention, nobody came to take your right of assembly, nobody came (hold on, didn't mean to make this so adult) and enforced a welfare-state that legitimized generational theft on a governmental level and with precision at an educational level. I'm getting ahead of myself, the healthcare companies wrote the healthcare laws, the lenders wrote the lending laws, the taxers wrote the tax laws, and it doesn't apply to them, that's literally fascism. You could get a stolen café espresso on your way out of Mussolini's house.

I'm not really giving anything away, i have the psychic version memorized and the physical version hasn't been written.

You can't hold your breath forever, you can't speak forever, breathing out is breathing in, and vice versa, this is equanimity. Active breathing proves much and learns little, stress brings deeper breaths, you can't be surprised at how others breathe unless you weren't paying attention. This starts to border on the tantra. but if you can't breathe i'd breath for you.

"Change - and everything is change; Nothing can be held on to - to the degree that you go with a stream, you see, you are still, you are flowing with it, but to the degree you resist the stream, then you notice that the current is rushing past you and fighting you. So swim with it, go with it, and you’re there. You’re at rest." ~ Alan Watts