It is grand to hit rock bottom sometime,
It is a good lesson to reach it once in a while so that one can give thanka.for what one still retains

The extreme through which the fear, that fear
Submerged is when the opinion is an ever growing sphere of increasing diameter encapsulating the fear, of having to move,
Away from the center,

When that mo e becomes what one ought to do
One ought to move,

And once there from here there
One ,then the other can begin to love them,

For they dear.dear fear likewise, the losses, the shame of pretence, the quietly resigned.

Move notches up and down, never really there because the center moves if you dont, but the quiet remains in the form of resided thoroughfare, and you glad one of these days you still.

Can pray again, the price is steep unexpectedly, immeasurably,
But pay, joyfully, pray bereft of the calamity of that crossing you must do now.

Quiet for others if not form you, the periphery knows, the journey
Inward, delicately.

It is as if. It escapes go through the separating angst, and the passage with hope to best those.

You’re just angry birch, hanging loosely through the azure of yesteryear when, and now forced to flagallate the obvious for that is a new romantic motion.

Hasten it, into the vivid pressure cooker of many a lost day,
Filled with anger and hate and loss, be coming motionless for nanosecond.of you just remembered its beauty overwhelms even the most astute, that into this loss your image will grind as did the son risen.

And now work it shake it, so that none you will feel rejected through the abdominality of its abhorrent magnificence.

Hate that you love that hate,
That you always knew, to be the best friend of the darkness

Devastated and rejected archangel nonstop straws grasp,
Let it go, learn to answer it well in it.not dwell, .there is the way regardless never lost, and it gently settles on your shoulder as a whisp of a feathered friend.

Quiet, all a round now.

Next day. By virtue of the rite, hope finds eternal.another roller coaster ride on Coney island
Hope the buck stops here, the planting of seeds with in the terrain fenced ,
Me In.

If perchance no special creation purposes men, as a species, and not to compare the machine man as superior computer, is that not enough to state the intention of merely an animal continuum to it all, as having that DNA component?

Fearful of that minimal approach be not the. case but negate that, and merely justify the computer as an existential tool

But even then, multiply that with in the near infinite possibilities of that and the probability of a universal computer as an excogenic entity approaches certainty, I looked at from the perspective of their hooked up as they are as super computers are

Does this argument fare well, in a feedback system between man and machine? Giving rise to the primordial nature of the reason for an a priori synthetic?


And once it arrives the fear of nuclear war will abate

Quiet, steady as she goes.

Ever wonder the terror a newby must experience coming into the world? Don’t know anything, anybody, just thrust into the light, and going out the same fear, except in reverse. Into the darkness. Is there a difference, except darkness is only an absence of light.

Is there really ever a total absence? Only ours, and who are we, who am I? Once that question can be answered, we’ll know for sure.

Baby trumps wisdom. Is it not inensionality is always one step or many steps ahead? It is for the future we live, tomorrow, tomorrow, there is always tomorrow. It is the new, the exciting springtime of life that we live, the uncharted territories, the virgin untouched and hopeful to,unending days of no care , , the lack of precision and certain death, rather the charmed and charming gods equally bestowing harmony and style, well defined sunshine for the future explicit places of paradise.

Now who can say if that is not what is more likely in the great scheme of things, and not the well bordered , one dimensional self imposed limits?

The baby trumps all this convention only to rediscover, he can’t have it all to himself, that the assigned signatures of the nut cracker, devolve into an outing of the truly petrified , the outsourced singular blakean non temporal wonder, that by extension is unlimited? Can the unlimited soul be guarded against those intrudes who claim a singular claim upon themselves truly for their own benifit, thinking they can impoverish even one of these riches, unknown to them of the infinite source of all of it reaching back into eternity and immortality!

I can not not post this.


Takoff on quiet.

Thought of you as my mountain too
Thought of you as my peak, thought of you
as everything I’ve had but couldn’t keep I’ve had
but couldn’t keep

Velvet underground