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(pt. 1) “Affections”
loving beauty ✧
human relationships
Act like human beings
Replying to comments
Good original content
indignation · ratios adding up
Universe
What am I giving back?
idealization of ‘Authenticity’
different ingredients
Quality / Quantity
High degrees of visibility
Technology · misgivings
viable tactics · Awareness
Boost engagements
♫
(pt. 2) “Published Author“
friends · reflection · inventive
multiplicity simulation · Ratio
Regulating visibility influencer
People · values · priorities
Engagement · Knowledge
Strong opinions · Veins
blood · time · half my day
Personal prowess · Business
agreement · financial · Power
·Platform · Accordingly · Rules
·Game · Pursuits · Lord · Involvement
· Owners · Spirit · Concepts · discourse
Culture shapes behaviors as much as code
· Accurate · foundational
Current · Potential · Recognize
☉
(pt. 3) “individual“
· Feedback · Analytical · playing the
game · outcomes · Controlling
enforcing · regulatory · Actors · series
· Questions · What are the rules?
important · Circumstances
· Productive · Systems · Manipulation
Beyond · impact · tools · reference
future · Dynamics · Broader
· Focus · Veteran · Paradigm Equal
Contrast · Series · Shifting
· lucidly · Reform · accountability
The divine is that which is bright yet unseen and is a felt and somewhat believed force of nature. The bright and unseen falls through dimensional fabrics that subsequently resonate via shimmerations of such thoughtful reputabilities. The microscopic diffusion of the photonic particlization makes the subsequent experience upon any form of epidermic sensory intake (or otherwise) is nearly imperceptible except for by either natural acceptance via unconscious reckonings and/or by conscious realization through methods whether on purpose or by just happening. Whether noticed, acknowledged, felt or not, such divinities must be believed to be righteous within their infiltrations, that is to say, well intentioned, and given freely thus asking for nothing in return. To such a degree, the idea of gratitude becomes a grand source of reckoning when undertaking what exactly to do in the face of such powerful yet untouchable. Though the initial thought of gratitude comes across as cultish from a behavioral standpoint, one must then consider the scientific ramifications induced by acting out the psychological undertaking of gratification. Such molecular manifestations, as noted in previous essays, carry over resonate values that have physical impacts on the surrounding environment, subsequently people and oneself. As noted, these are inevitable resonations, and so are being cycled by our influence whether we are conscious of our penetrative conjurations or not. This is a good thing no matter what, but to be conscious of the influence brings to question the idea the impact of riding the divine waves of experience with gratitude not unlike the ways in which the snowboarders, surfers, longboarders and skaters overtake their respective surfaces with utter flow. The resultant state is an awesome display of balance on an otherwise tiny piece of wood that without the human experience of control over that which may/may not be unpredictable within one’s personal experience as affected by the surrounding environment, when done with full belief in the depths of one’s experience, ends up being a beautiful form of ecstacy that then becomes an overall shared experience between the conscious reckonings of the surrounding populous, thus physically manifesting that which had been previously deduced as divine nature. This could be thought as making heaven on earth, God’s image even. Would this mean man is experiencing the power of God? Or is man fulfilling his nature in a godlike being? It would be fullhearty to believe that man would be taking on God’s form itself, but the positive impact on one’s physical health can have an exponentially righteous effect on the external.
An area of our everyday lexicon that really bugs me is that of the vernacular pertaining to drug users. The nicknames and stereotypical punnery are that main source of reprehension for me, and the main one has to be “crackhead”, although “junkie” does come in close second. I find the terminology lacking in all fundamental charisma that is necessary to hold down a topic of interest within a conversational circumstance, nevertheless being totally inept of dignity. There may be an argument for hilarity, although context matters with such reasoning. As well, there seems to be an essential ignorance at play within our cultural dynamics that is devoid of compassion, and is moreover degrading, when we believe the tragedy of addiction within the lives of our more vulnerable populations to be laughable.
I think the argument over “politically correct” culture being regressive is weak when faced with the undying sensitivity and heartbreak of individual’s on the brink of collapse who are then further pulverized by verbal punches from those who find their need for a few seconds of laughter more valuable than the pain of the subject at hand. It is no surprise that such individuals commit suicide, and one would think this would give the rhetorician’s pause and contemplate other avenue’s of humor that may find them that success with their respective audiences that they so crave. Alas, no, the addiction of the positive reception over the mockery of the dismay of another addict is too satisfying once embarked upon to just so easily give up once the victim has become a corpse; they will even go on to mock the corpse, or worse, encourage others to follow suit.
I’m not saying there is some way to suddenly make things better. The best thing to do would be to watch my own language, which I have done successfully. That is another thing bothers me about the people who still use such language; what is holding them back from evolving out of such hateful dialogue? I like to think people are dealing with their own pain and that is sort of understandable. But if everyone is dealing with pain, why can’t they recognize that in someone else before calling them a “crackhead”? Plus, the generalization and stereotypification gives off a sense of lacking in research or education. The thrill within the naughtiness of shedding light on such negative preconceived notions may be desirable, that is to say, “he says what he thinks!” or, “he says what everyone’s thinking!”. I find such logic repugnant, and the sensitivity one receives from the comics, as it were, is mind boggling if you start to ponder upon the hypocrisy of such an attitude.
Irony notwithstanding, the contradictory position of taking offense to an overt attempt at spotlighting stigmatized speech feels godforsaken in its naivete. If it wasn’t enough that they had to point their weapons at the weak and helpless, now they gawk at the notion that someone their own size (or bigger) is fighting back on behalf of those who would otherwise never have a say in the matter. The whole thing is encapsulated in the whole “Indian” “Native” “Indigenous” battle over what we should call people who are just short of not existing entirely. Why take offense to me telling you they’re not Indians? Are you really that big of a stickler for Christopher Columbus? It all reeks of contrarianism, because what ties do these people have to such words? My best explanation is that people prefer hearing language they were raised on, and that includes the words that spilled out of daddy’s mouth in those earliest memories.
The main takeaway here is that we are all sensitive. That does not seem likely to change, but I believe we should keep fighting for what we believe, nay, know to be true. In the short term, the wrong may win the day, heck, the wrong may even win for a few years. Eventually, though, as history has proven time and time again, progress wins in the long term. In fact, it’s logistically impossible without the stagnation and downfall of society as we know it. This notion does beg the question, for those resisting progressive change, would you rather the imminent demise of life as we know it, or can you maybe come up with a better joke?
Do you have resentment towards yourself? Are you unhappy with the quality of human you came into the world as? What’s so wrong? Does your brain hurt to think about…that part…and how it makes you feel to think about how other people feel about it? And so be it, but what is it truly? Is it dissatisfaction or envy? Hm why not both? What is it then? Envy formed out of dissatisfaction? Or vice versa? Hm. And what does that mean for the likes of those around you? Must they suffer at your suffering? What a drag. Is that why they’re called drag queens? They’re all dragging us down with their ultimate showcasing of dissatisfaction with their natural born bodies in embodying that of which does not physically appear when they enter the shower? This cannot be the case, can it? Are our identities based on envy? I don’t even mean envy, I mean a certain adherence to an image that has overtaken one’s mind. I think my relationships with both women and men alike have shaped my identity, and although it may be a world of my own making, is it not those around us that assist in shaping our own inner realms? To such a degree, I most certainly may have myself had an impact on the identities of those I’ve come into close contact with. Thus it comes across as a nearly inescapable circumstance that we as living organisms undergo in our fluctuations through our vibrational undertakings via living. Would it benefit anyone to remove oneself from the whole of it? It comes across as unlikely that a mass flux will suddenly seek such isolation, so one may likely find plenty of space to develop an identity beyond the immediate surface of every day interactions. The key at that point is embarking on the meditative mind, of which will be in conjecture with the idea of enlightenment, if that is what one so desires, otherwise, perhaps at least, they will find solace in emptying the mind of memories, at least temporarily depending on the individuals connection to such memories (and the value placed towards them).
If this all sounds too weighty, then continue on the path of identity swapping. My estimate is that it may just be an element of societal normality, thus pivotal in the process of collective evolution, thus likely evolving the individual (albeit blips of resistance as keys enter their respective holes) to such an extent that may blow any idea of resentment (and ultimately rejection) of ones natural born physical state out of the spectrum of thought entirely. that is to say our evolution may propel us forward with such masterfulness that we won’t even notice the shift in attitudes that will occur collectively, of which will be a soft, gentle, yet massive wave of acceptance that will coarse over each and every one involved in that warping being. It may in fact be reminiscent of that individual who sought escape from identity sharing, that is to say that the whole will be like the one, and so separation will be simultaneously assumed while also never existing to a most comfortable extent. In trying to understand this moving forward, perhaps take a really long time to look at yourself in the mirror and try to think about as many other people than yourself as you can while you’re staring into your own eyes. Try not to get lost in the abyss on such an endeavor, although if you do, have fun!
There is an idea about power I have conjured over my years on this planet. The idea is as follows: power is to push. I realize this is probably lacking in some quality of definition you so rightfully sought. I have come to such a sentence by way of wondering how simply one may come to understand that which is sought with such reverence. Power is the act of pushing, I have come to understand. If not, how so? I do not know how not. I cannot even come up with an idea in my mind where power is not the act of pushing someone and/or something whether physically or psychologically. I can give plenty of examples as to how power is pushing, it almost feels laughable to ask me to provide one. Even if it is a kind push, it is the act of pushing against another. There is such reverence for pushing. Pushing someone along. Even pulling is pushing in the opposite direction. And so be it! Sometimes yah gotta push even when you don’t want to! And you let others push you around! You are okay with them bearing their own powers upon your being, thus, at least in the micro, leaving you powerless! But when is it not okay? Is it ever okay? What does consent mean? If someone is dying, what is power in that moment? How about after you save them? Or after they’re dead? Such micros. It’s almost wrong of me to tackle the micros, because what real power do they have? Well, I totally disagree, and it nearly pains me to explain on such boring terms that the collective of the micros in fact pave way for the massive one. And then the massive one has it’s own one singular awesome brunt of power! Is that good?? it that bad?? It nearly pains me to say that it has become clearer and clearer that it does not matter. All we can do is criticize power, push against it, but it’s still there, the push, is it an eternal push? “The Eternal Push: An Micro Essay on Power” should be the title of this piece. And guess what? I had to literally push the keys on the keyboard to type this. And guess what else? I pushed air in and out of my nose while pushing the keys. And yah know what else what else? I pushed my foot up and down with my toes so that my leg would push against non-existence, because you know, gotta be pushing something. I pushed against an itch to scratch it away, be gone you sick itch. Push my teeth against food so that it may be cut up proper in my pushing it down my gullet into my belly where it will be pushed more times than I care to know, until the final push in which is of but great sacrifice to my dominant nature, yet so be it be a push nonetheless, a gift that God did bless unto we. Push the waves and push the words right out of my mouth. Pushed someone cuz I was bigger and they punched me and so all I had to do was push it wouldn’t be that bad I thought but no it was a push. way to go, jerk.
Part of me does not want to talk about the hurricane because it is something I do not usually bring myself to talk about. With that said, given that I just started posting on this blog not but a couple weeks ago or so, and it is called The Milton Scribe, I must acknowledge to the outer world I carry with me the burden of knowing this. Albeit out of my control in a rational sense, there is still that lingering feeling of the absurd at play. I will not faulter in posting on this site though, and as I will continue hope for those who suffer at the winds of such storms, I will continue my irrelevance to the matter and be of such great typing service.
Fortitude flying through flames
of Doubt – Did double down to
dampen the flames that rose high
Then, without warning, we were
all wet from the tears of God
that did flow with our timelines
Enough to fill and refill the craters
of the moon – many moons
pass before I run away with
energy cloaked carefully,
until then, please take my hand
And we will fly through those
flames the sun so playfully
yet dangerously tickles our
sides with.
What type of words to be taken from the collective consciousness is not to be taken lightly as all responsibility falls on us as creators to incur proper thinking in order to maintain semblance among ourselves. Yet let us not be so unforgiving for the love of all that is love, and that is to say that we may yet consider our past indiscretions towards the world and unto ourselves that they may be in themselves a powerful force in recognizing a source of a past self that once despised external aspects, and in the course of healing at least, wishes to reflect on those so-called sins and perhaps practice shedding a new light that is to say that in reflecting upon those mistakes maybe you will be able to forgive, full-heartedly, the mistakes of others with an everlasting eros. In doing so, we may, in my opinion at least, may flourish as a nation, and propel our entire species forward, not underground or in bits and pieces, but rather upward, supporting the dreams of those who dream dreams not yet dreamed, those we can only but dream about ourselves, who, if we so give a damn like our forenations before us, will see heavens with their physical born bodies, experiencing the likes of which only angels would have otherwise, and we will all be united in the skies, as we will share with them the maps to the universe, and the missions that have been sent down to us from the heavens stream of light waves, those nearly indecipherable messages that serve to give and nourish life, and invite life to be lived further than ever before thought appropriate for the likes of the three dimensional being, the origins of which come the monkey, fish, bubble, rock, element, and so be it, the atom and beyond. Here we stand, at last and forever, stand with me won’t you?
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