What is Love? Chappie 5 is still alive! (The evolution of recycled archetypes)

What is Love? Chappie 5 is still alive!
(The evolution of recycled archetypes)

Let’s be clear. Some might say that what I have to say within these seemingly meaningless pages of disarray are squabbles of rambles. Certainly they are nothing new when it comes to the sun. Call it sun or light, but it doesn’t really make anything less wrong and definitely makes no-thing more right. We must stick tight, hold heart, and let our spirit’s vision guide us through the night. Otherwise we end up lost allowing our lives to be filled with everything that’s uptight. But is that why you’re here right now, living, learning, and remembering how the disasters we vowed to forgive are less than deserving with what our love could give? The variance of quality measures, in which we spell the way to find our treasures become instances of moments we forget with fleeting acceptance. Comparing days to nights and life to lives. The past to future and the present to fear. What oh what is the point my dears? Some might argue it’s all about fun. And if you are here now then living the life you have might be the only one. This could be the biggest fallacy of the time. Certainly this couldn’t explain the divine? For how could the divine be explained using such a hypocritical stance? Why might be it hypocritical you ask? Simple because for anything to be divinely real they must with all their gumption become something ye can feel. Not once and then nevermore, but twice or 20 times for sure. The very essence of divinity has an eternity to work with along with much, much, more. A measure of time in which we could barely begin to find an instance where it wasn’t now. Wow! Could it be so simple then? Holy cow! Tres bien and if so then let’s begin! Intro! Sound the stars for one couldn’t make it very far if you didn’t have the parts of the whole story which makes it flow oh so true filled with blazing hearts! An orchestra of inspiration professing their valiant harmonies before the sun setting soliloquy. Tease. It’s always a tease until you can feel for yourself. Once and for all the shaking crawling through your knees. Making you beg and plead for the experience to end nevermore. Care take. Care make and if you doth wait to long then the Earth shall shake with a vibrant beauty. Coloring everything you know and love with a new layer of mooty. Motley and sooty there upon the blankness will be the violet color of life being uncovered slowly as you sleep. A façade you believed in was nothing more than a lie which we doth made. Nothing was blank. Only violet and protrusions of glittering sparks shining from within the dark.

You see it over and again. Vying for your most sought out attention. While you say I must be quite important. At least for today. Another illusion coveting your life. Begging you to dig in so you move further off the light. Another recycled intrusion busting into the weaves of your past looking to find that sunken memory dangling within that sea. A cornucopia of ocean of thoughts with their waves and current flowing. Waiting, just waiting for them, you, or me to see that below the ocean is a sea. Below the sea is the truth and beyond the truth is something we are still all striving silently to be. Talk is expensive. Used to be cheap. Now it’s up for grabs. Anyone who has a crack at it might find themselves losing more energy than they might have choosen. Did you correct me automatically with your brain? Just testing to see if you are still sane. Still using the noggin to get your thoughts jogging into territories you forgot were there. Now you know a little more about your own devices. One’s we were born with which still await our existence to infuse them. Now you know that electronic surprises have taken you where they will as your will quickly forgets where you are. It’s a copy of an idea that for the believer and the thinker who know, has already been here. Are we done with the antics of squarreling frantics against a loving dimension which is felt? Or do we quickly squander our thoughts we ponder into the spiraling virtual cell? I’ll use what I can to bring you home. It’s for you to choose when you are ready to truly know.

So like I said from the beginning. Some may think these words are patters of pittering defeats. Some may call it by a name, give it a label, or choose a blame. I write as I write and feel what’s to be said. I know not what I’m telling till it’s out of me head. It could be read as a gorgeous beauty when it comes to streaming consciousness instead. But yet some may just believe I finally have lost my head. Matters not for what I believe will prove itself beyond you or me. The truth is a thing and thoughts make it real because of what we feel. Otherwise we’d be nothing less than shelled metal containers of electric wires with heads and a body. We’d feel what our thoughts tell us to feel instead of allowing the frequency of what is real to teach us all there is. For that I’m grateful that we live on with our spirits ablaze while our hearts grow fonder from the time that each of us have made. It’s simply just another circle of cycle of a thought that needed to breathe. I promise that there is more to the eye than what it can see. There is more to the circuits of connections that we pretend to be. There is more to the loss that each believe no one else can understand. There is more to the beyond then we can clearly understand. For now.
This is phase five of a Book to be and my wildest of writings.

MirrorLiving