Stasis Clock

I am a social person. No. Not in the traditional in sense. I phrased it that way because I am a person who likes people. I believe in people in a wide view. There is evil in this world. I have met evil people from every sample of my time. I also have known good people but have missed them because my world was painted with pain. I believe in connection. When its clear, when your pain has been sorted, it feels good. I feel good. I know that there is always darkness. My anger will never go away. I just have a different relationship with people. They may be cruel. They may be spiteful. One day I may see these people in their full spectrum. Wholesome yet imperfect. Today can be lived without perfection. The anger has cleared to the point on a blue sunny day where there is snow out. The sun is bright, the blues deep high above. Silent, clear and beautiful. When an empathetic person meets Synesthesia, Adhd, Autism, OCD. I have a sound sense, I have time constantly in my brain, where time is m...

Rewrite The reflection of a mirror. Do you think language is still? Of words moving through space. As light bends in gravitational waves. Language is of itself. If you are fiery your name shall be fire. If you seek hills every movement directed at the incline. A mirror is meant to refract. It is meant to create endless dimensions. All encoded by its language. All centered by the starting seed. Repeating itself. To redefine one self is to be consumed by one thing. Until all of it is rewritten. Think of your favorite chile. Favorite ice cream. They all stem from a core. A aspect of you. A filling of lango for your tango. Right. I know what I am. Open the operating tempo. A root will seek dark places. Water. Its pinch through dirt and willow movements defined by its core lango. Language for it may be french, italin with ferro, and all sorts of places. A world of fire. Red jewels. Hazy smoke. A world of ice. Sapphire, frosted cakes and jagged edges. These mono worlds are everywhere. What? ...

Yeah. I know. This is a big one. Because I experienced the butt end of elitism all my life. The people who try to be the ones denoting everything. Twisting facts. Limiting truth. Omitting details. Just to control.   Control the narrative. We are social creatures, with social needs. Acceptance mainly. Love defienelty, and I have seen the abuse of these needs to the advantage of others. Mainly those who repeat what was done to them. Embracing the darkness and distrusting goodness and love. Bitter. Its bitter because of the consquences of not realizing of whom you are controlling. Of who you are affecting, and the soul within you screaming. This is wrong. They were wrong. Now I am doing this as well.  I am bad as well. I can’t be the only one. Everyone is corrupt. Everyone lies. Everyone is fake. I am justifying the wrong I embraced. So you continue thinking its alright. If it is all wrong, I might as well take control of others. If men cannot be trusted then I might as well be c...

I am going to be honest here. I was writing another post, and I got up, used the bathroom, stretched and then sat back down. My neck tighten and body began to ache. Then I lost my train of thought, and then promptly saved it into a file and started over. I know the post is incomplete, but it didn't feel right anymore. As I reread and couldn't feel the flow. Acceptance. That is hard to know. Hard to understand. Hard to feel. Hard to feel it all. As the masses of this world press down. Incomplete, body language, fury, insecurity and the rage of years of being bound. I will never stop. I am that person who goes for it anyways because sitting still is not me at all. I am a person who chase after what I want. Even if disorientation is a thing. Even if my body is feeble and confusion overtakes. I will get up and try over. Rehearse. Refine. Redo. Fear is the reality of the world being much denser. Much greater than any wave of the sea. I cannot crest every attack. I cannot endure ever...

The simplicity of life is that we realize the complexities of man. What we add to it, and when we gain intelligence it becomes simple. Often times the process mean a destruction of sort. Destabilizing as we move forward from one form to another stance. Its painful. Rewarding for when you reach it through. Because good change feels right, and you have claimed a slice of heaven. Meaning you have become something better than not. Good people suffer. Good people make bad decisions. Good people don't understand other people. Because our souls may be bright, but our outlook is imperfect. We can be pain points for other souls simply because of one thing. We don't see people as people.  I experienced that from others. They treat me as a true or be gone situation. Either I get it or I don't. Either I fulfill their desires or not. Either I am an accessory to their narrative, or validate their existence, or some other vain outlook. I am a person. I have a soul. I can feel...

High compression. The real. The fake. The boundary between. Finite gate. Compress the unlimited into the finite space. Integers, precision error with floats, boolean on and off. Composing and rotating. The anchor in a world of endless propagation. Endless self-similar patterns. Endless time. The finite symbols. They hold you still. Not imprisoned. Not sugar coated brownies to spike you. Just ground zero. Feeling complete. Symbols are finite. They are limited in scope, and they are meant to be together. When you align them in a pattern, or compose and smash them together, they radiate that possibility. A viewpoint will see something breathing. Alive. Characters seemingly real, because they represent something real. I can take a pattern and endlessly see it grow, or follow a history and follow the trail back. I look at an object and patterns spike as information endlessly grows. I have to be careful to not do something too long, or my head will start heating up and the screaming and guit...