A Cup In A Waterfall

Logic will do to chaos what spirit does to warlords. Considering that if their debates were instantaneously turned into a game show they'd all be sent home early.

It's my belief that dark matter is the water, and the big bang is just a bubble of light matter on the surface of our omniverse pool, that would be just about big enough to make us small enuf to witness a blackhole as the invisible gravity that pulls against the smallest states of matter, and that we're inside the atom, and viewing it simultaneously -- and I'm still kinda loving the idea that black holes are the byproduct of really fast space vehicles and we just lack a complete picture of how space and time work. 

Hell the idea that the deep has little between worlds it's not much different from society. The middle ground of space and time, I kept thinking until I was thinking. I kept listening until I was listening. 

Two enemies in the light and truth, the scarcities of reason, the scarcities of resources, and in that act, being the enemies until they were enemies. It seems disturbing to peace and long life that two worlds would be one war. Needless to say that the cost of your own ranks means you weren't meant to lead them. 

Now onto the ones afraid of laughter and standing. The subject, in the old sense of the word a person is subject to rule from another, would be forced to joke until the warlord laffs. The warlord, would have to stand and find something entertaining. One learns to speak to fight, one learns to fight to speak. 

There is a fun game of words called Improvement. Two warlords sat drinking tea, in a monastery far from their homes. They decided to discuss the shadow downhill until they could truly be discussing the shadow. Then decided to discuss the growing grass until they could truly be discussing the grass. The name is the rule, improvement, and serves as the basis of conversation. In order to be wise enuf to debate or conversate, they made rules against disagreeing. Only statements of perception, this improves communication -- and only questions, this improves perception. 

One very much loved shade and all shadows, and the other very much loved grass. 

Blades of grass grow in light. 

Blades of grass grow in light making shadow. 

Shadow of night lets grasses cool. 

Shadow of night lets grasses cool while they wait for the sun. 

They argued and argued for twenty days, but in the spirit of improvement, so that their armies wouldn't fight until they were just fighting, so their armies wouldn't die until they were just dying, the two philosophers never got emotional. 

Understanding they are very much two different people. 

Understanding they are very much two different people, with important different perceptions. 

There we are, left to understand that the two philosophers found a fusional goal, the way fog surrounds what we can see, and covers what we can't see. Our memory is synthetic, not a photograph. This risk of passing bad analytics, or bad logic, we can pass to ourselves. Analyzing sometimes takes the form of doubt, the way fog also reveals nothing. So it is, the vague image of peace had to be held in their focus until the fog lifted when they could truly have peace. 

Words have power and shouldn't be wasted until they are truly wasted. Your memory is a cup in a waterfall. Learn to learn, drink good memory until you can drink the river of time. Toss bad memory until you can fill the space. 

A blade of grass does not steal the light any more than a brilliant star steal darkness. And when a star dies, the other stars don't share thr light, they become one, as they shine until, they are shining. As two, as one. It is that nature is the governing principle that we should strive to be natural, not at each others throats. If you all need to collectively worldwide meditate maybe you should try something easier first, like tea or waterfalls, instead of blades and darkness. 

There will be time and space for that until there is only time and space. 

Coarse and Closed

I am here and I wonder, 'how do I start an entry,' into this bottomless callous cavalcade of emotionless thoughts, differential substitution of introduction, what jalopy melancholy as it might seem, to every stylometry internet filter fastidiously and more so impertinently latched to deep sea cables at the order of the luddite mentats, fingerprinting where every cell phone, every metastasized metadata-driven click where keywords mill thru databases like worms, what my language pattern is, discreetly mine own, distinctly within the confines of randomization without ubiquity, to match these screeds to some other charlatan of epic proportions in every privacy shared compared against every whereabouts detailed, which in a sentence I cannot fray, but in a phrase I beg to say, where evolution is the river none dare to swim, this is opportunity to begin an eternity of information.

Me, I have a tea, a rooibos from one of the rose deserts, the tasting of colors red and black, the small threads put into a coffee filter and twisted, pinched with a clothespin and mounted perfectly within the brim. I was able to buy it because of capitalism, I was able to enjoy it because of communism, albeit ironically opportunely alone, and I am able to share the experience with you because of socialism. Ire brings me out, the way you insult my planet and harm these humans, the voices rage me with this again, these benefits of profit, these concerns of controlling, the compulsion of sharing the hybrid, to wit I make this of grammar, not of economics, not of equivalent exchange, not of emotions, because you seem to have no time for that.

The world is not a simulation for now. Perhaps it will be, perhaps it won't be, and that is also something else for somewhere else. If you wish, time could be frozen for everyone except you, or maybe you're the last person on the planet, odd, in any case you're reading this and I have something urgent to tell you. Let us say that your x-ism, mentioned above, serves a purpose, is embraced by society, can you say that it is not, it would mean that if socialism failed it was because you're too stupid to use it.

The manied results include, the idealist creation is not of commonality and origin within the voice of the people, by failure to recognize vastly complex yet brutishly heavy stoppages to its systematic mindless enforcement penalized yourself, and to no surprise, in ignorance punished all of those around you. It is by this very ignorance of your own recognizance, your personal reawakening into pointlessness that you damaged yourself without internal or external reflection, like pushing the wrong way on a door that isn't even a door.

There are the great things, love among them, sleep certainly has its importance, this tired yarn begs mention vitality, by which we damnedest, eat and breath, there is no law to command we love, we sleep, we consume and breathe, and in mention my sake of waxing poetic brings me to the level lower without substantiation, beautiful frontliners, you can't make it rain unless you're a cloud in the heavens. I am sacrosanct, supercilious and deleterious, but we do not censor, even in the desert we are not grains of sand, falling thru the hands of time or sliding in the hourglass, powerless to become mountains once again, we tell others the time, we carry oceans and rest like a gathering of galaxies, or in the fires we bond together to become the glass.

The tea stains the water, then the water is tea. 




















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