A
blurb to Book! Chapter .5
It burns with passion. It burns
the bones. It burns the flesh attached to solid body stabilizers. What pray me
could be the reason for such travesty to entertain our lonely souls?
There aren't words left to describe the isolating presence of vanquished entities. They simply look at the life they were offered and pronounced themselves finished with all of it. Stumbly they move on toward their next chapter of beginning again. God knows that even I've done it once or thrice. When it comes to trivial maneuvers this could be validated as one of the grandest. The behavior that is left intact once someone decides to switch the switch is staggering and yet honorable enough.
Where can the last of the vagrant bee tamers be stammering about during this day of ages? Where does thou find the hollow of our unconscious sleeping as our autonomy continues moving as if nothing could dare halt it’s pursuits? Distractions after distractions and still they urge for more. When will it stop? Dear God when will it stop?
There aren't words left to describe the isolating presence of vanquished entities. They simply look at the life they were offered and pronounced themselves finished with all of it. Stumbly they move on toward their next chapter of beginning again. God knows that even I've done it once or thrice. When it comes to trivial maneuvers this could be validated as one of the grandest. The behavior that is left intact once someone decides to switch the switch is staggering and yet honorable enough.
Where can the last of the vagrant bee tamers be stammering about during this day of ages? Where does thou find the hollow of our unconscious sleeping as our autonomy continues moving as if nothing could dare halt it’s pursuits? Distractions after distractions and still they urge for more. When will it stop? Dear God when will it stop?
Hope isn't found where you sleep
or where your feet may find a home for the moments of pleasure it eagerly pines
for. Fleeting at the very most. Yet still almost perfectly divine. It’s buried
under the sludge of darkened epiphanies. The ongoing tramples that the thought’s
leave across your brain parts. The frisking of new ideas from various
wonderings. Beyond all of this nonsensical leisure’s is the very thing we call
hope. Floating cloud like above the holding core of its essence. Efforts have
been made, but to touch such a marvel ideology let alone the very thing labeled
hope is no easier then scaling two impossible mountains out of sheer curiosity.
It’s invisibly fluid and transparently solid. There are no decent expletives to
describe such miraculous existences. It is and there beyond it, hope! Is a
building layered with layers of vibrant textures crowded around a sheet of
light which pierces the darkness with its magnificent bytes or bites. Either
way the networks of connecting vessels can feel its presence. The light it’s
the sound that they can’t see coming. Starting as a crescendo of soloed
whispers that increase with the body’s own breathe until all that’s left is the
most profound of vibrating waves dancing between the cells and the flowing red
lava like fluids which move endlessly to the light’s beats.
If you can follow this far then you are better off remembering how it all works. Because the edge is slippery when trying to reach for the sky and the land is quite vast when trying to breathe into the space between the moments. There’s only one solution. Focus. Focus right. Focus true. There in between the silence and the noise lies the most variety of variables. The mathematics are tasteful with its computational smells and feelings. There is no explanation as I have said repeatedly and will repeatedly continue to say. There is no explanation except for jamming words and syllables all together in hope that they come out in the end a little bit more fruitful and healthy.
We are beings of energetic vibrancy which we expel using the easiest of methods. While we’re at it we will do our damn-dest to settle the score once and for all when it comes to the mightiest of champions chasing across fields compared to the loudest puppet spinning their endless wheels again and again. When oh when can it all just make sense. For now it won’t and instead of pretending it shall with undying hope I intend to bend the nonsense until it springs back with some type of logistics that we can all comprehend using just the simplest of our smarts. What do you say? Instead of darting to the store to find the newest not so new item shining from the shelves would you perhaps instead be interested in having a faint more sleep while lying in your previously useless bed? Or would you rather a nice long journey through the cornucopia of memories and ideas waiting silently inside your head for some type of attention? Which would you rather?
Sitting quietly waiting with my own devices close to my heart I listen for but a sound to reach my longing again. The longing that has waited oh shy of decade or more. This is the challenge of challenges and I will do whatever’s left in my power to make it the victory it was born to become. Devices of glitches and glows. Plastic wearing protective uniforms to keep it isolated from the rest of the electric population. Glops and beeps staring into peepers across the globe until the globe is peeping into your electrically ecstatic gestures protruding from your face. It isn't more or less just right. It isn't the night or the morning begging you on it’s the comfort of not knowing. The zone of conformity drives the insanity straight up to the noggin until you find yourself groping at products and endless meaninglessness. But how can you attribute meaning to things that are neverend-ingly popping up across the universe of consumer history? Where do the question’s like (A horizontal rug striped with a lion’s snout is our quest today or should we take more of a leisure stroll through the avalanching grimaces of food, folks, and done?) begin? The going philosophy of the times is one of variable enchantments combining obligatory laughs and short code’s that spit from the lips of strangers and friends. Fairy tales have been taken with stride as they caress our inner wants and lure us toward the forsaken ruins of what once was.
I for one have made my own quest and it’s a mighty good quest. One for this decade! (What decade is this again?) A quest that even the almighty heaven would shine beacons as smiles toward. My quest is simple yet the most complex of measures when it comes to algorithms of (Don’t screw this up for us!). That quest is to seek the invisible landscapes of the minds who still grasp them to find the ultimate proof of perpetuating factual fantasy. Because let’s face it folks. If you find that then we all have to put our thinking caps on again (If you remember the existence of the first one ever being threatened upon you of course) until you catch up! It’s not a vain constant I’m speaking of just the truth. The truth mam just the truth! If I find that then Happy Day! You and everyone can and will find it to. You’ll be thrown on your own quest involuntarily unless as I reckoned you take that shabby ol miniature hill lying on your corners chair, wisp some breathe past the ruffles of dust that had made home of it for way to long, and throw it upon ye noggin to get the mind a jogging!
This is phase one of a Book to be and my wildest of writings.
MirrorLiving
If you can follow this far then you are better off remembering how it all works. Because the edge is slippery when trying to reach for the sky and the land is quite vast when trying to breathe into the space between the moments. There’s only one solution. Focus. Focus right. Focus true. There in between the silence and the noise lies the most variety of variables. The mathematics are tasteful with its computational smells and feelings. There is no explanation as I have said repeatedly and will repeatedly continue to say. There is no explanation except for jamming words and syllables all together in hope that they come out in the end a little bit more fruitful and healthy.
We are beings of energetic vibrancy which we expel using the easiest of methods. While we’re at it we will do our damn-dest to settle the score once and for all when it comes to the mightiest of champions chasing across fields compared to the loudest puppet spinning their endless wheels again and again. When oh when can it all just make sense. For now it won’t and instead of pretending it shall with undying hope I intend to bend the nonsense until it springs back with some type of logistics that we can all comprehend using just the simplest of our smarts. What do you say? Instead of darting to the store to find the newest not so new item shining from the shelves would you perhaps instead be interested in having a faint more sleep while lying in your previously useless bed? Or would you rather a nice long journey through the cornucopia of memories and ideas waiting silently inside your head for some type of attention? Which would you rather?
Sitting quietly waiting with my own devices close to my heart I listen for but a sound to reach my longing again. The longing that has waited oh shy of decade or more. This is the challenge of challenges and I will do whatever’s left in my power to make it the victory it was born to become. Devices of glitches and glows. Plastic wearing protective uniforms to keep it isolated from the rest of the electric population. Glops and beeps staring into peepers across the globe until the globe is peeping into your electrically ecstatic gestures protruding from your face. It isn't more or less just right. It isn't the night or the morning begging you on it’s the comfort of not knowing. The zone of conformity drives the insanity straight up to the noggin until you find yourself groping at products and endless meaninglessness. But how can you attribute meaning to things that are neverend-ingly popping up across the universe of consumer history? Where do the question’s like (A horizontal rug striped with a lion’s snout is our quest today or should we take more of a leisure stroll through the avalanching grimaces of food, folks, and done?) begin? The going philosophy of the times is one of variable enchantments combining obligatory laughs and short code’s that spit from the lips of strangers and friends. Fairy tales have been taken with stride as they caress our inner wants and lure us toward the forsaken ruins of what once was.
I for one have made my own quest and it’s a mighty good quest. One for this decade! (What decade is this again?) A quest that even the almighty heaven would shine beacons as smiles toward. My quest is simple yet the most complex of measures when it comes to algorithms of (Don’t screw this up for us!). That quest is to seek the invisible landscapes of the minds who still grasp them to find the ultimate proof of perpetuating factual fantasy. Because let’s face it folks. If you find that then we all have to put our thinking caps on again (If you remember the existence of the first one ever being threatened upon you of course) until you catch up! It’s not a vain constant I’m speaking of just the truth. The truth mam just the truth! If I find that then Happy Day! You and everyone can and will find it to. You’ll be thrown on your own quest involuntarily unless as I reckoned you take that shabby ol miniature hill lying on your corners chair, wisp some breathe past the ruffles of dust that had made home of it for way to long, and throw it upon ye noggin to get the mind a jogging!
This is phase one of a Book to be and my wildest of writings.
MirrorLiving
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