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05/30/2015

Substantiation

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Duende

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Yield

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Snake

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Nausea

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Impact

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Coil

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Citadel

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Assimilation

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05/27/2015

Never to Recur

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Holy 2

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Little Flame

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Jazz

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Nebulous

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Holy

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Hypnosis and Imagination

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Hypnosis is nothing but imagination, which is how our consciousness changes itself. In meditation we should therefore focus not only on how it is, but also on how it could be more balanced, which can be done most easily by imagining our consciousness as energy waves with a color, texture, timbre.
Religion is a form of hypnosis, and all forms of hypnosis use imagination, but that doesn't mean we have to believe in it for it to work. Since God is immaterial, he does not exist in the material world but in our own minds. Therefore, we shouldn't pray for God to change our life as much as to change ourselves, as God is our own unconscious mind, and prayer a way to connect with it.

Collimation

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05/26/2015

Commonly Owned Automation

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The more work is done by machines, the more money is earned through ownership rather than work. Ownership is power, and equality of power is equality of ownership. All we need to keep inequality from increasing because of automation is to give everyone their share of its returns as a basic income, so that they can then use it as they want. The only thing we can't automate creativity, which is reduced if it is paid for, * and creativity can further automate work. Therefore, the less work needs to be done for what we need to survive, the less anyone should have to work to survive, and the higher basic income should be so as to increase creativity. Creativity arises from everything we live for that work takes away. We should work only to keep our lives, which we can never give up for any thing as valuable.
* Dan Pink: The Puzzle of Motivation (FRB: Large Stakes and Big Mistakes)
 
 

 

Month 300

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Nine hundred months
Within an average life.
More than I care to count,
In a mere sack of coins.
One third through this life,
I'm just at its three hundredth.
How shall I spend the rest,
Before death taxes them?
How much of it is wasted,
On things I leave behind?
I move past them ever faster,
As I feel the weight lightening.
How is this one month no more,
Than another decade's percent?
Were I to do nothing but wait,

I would not even get impatient.

 

Implants

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A screw came loose and then it clicked:
Who put these gears inside my head?
They kept me moving round in circles,
But now they are just standing still.
They jangled around my skull,
Got me stuck in full speed.
They thought I was in error,
But I was never a machine.
Turn me upside down,
And shake the shrapnel out.
But they'd just turn me off,
So they could try to fix this yet.
If fixing me will turn me back
The way I was before,
Then I myself will break me open,

To throw out what isn't mine.

Mandala

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A million grains of sand,
All balanced on one another.
Whenever I move one, 
It disturbs all the others.
If I cannot be perfect,
Then all I am is but a lie.
But where is what is straight
In the world I'm to depict?
If my mind is to be my world,
Then let me become like it;
A flow of ever shifting dunes,
That let them float into the wind.
Let me give up to surrender,
And yet I cannot do it.
Pray defeat me soon,
That this war be over yet!
Let me fail this time,
Before I think I'm done,
And presume that I contain,
All there is in an abstraction.

St. Anthony's Fire

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He became so bored in his prayers,
That his desires took form as visions;
So intense that a poison took his name,
Which he begged be taken from his lips.
But that's where he and I are different;
The poison's that for which I've come.
I've yet to learn the lesson since the fall,
And just sneaked right back in for more.
I'm double-dealing with Lord and Beast,
And I don't care which way the visions come;
I'll sell bits of my soul to the highest bidder,
On the intersection of their roads.

End of The Way

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I have my way,
And you have yours.
As for the right way,
The only way — is ours.
The way keeps going straight:
It must be going somewhere.
But that's just how it's made,
By those who come before us.
All ways come to an end,
And ours lay within walls.
We had no further to go,
Still had to keep on moving.
We moved in circles till we fell,
Now they're spinning in our heads.
When we slept it was to dream,
Of the way that never ends.
What we go's not even a nightmare,
Just a dreamless deep sleep.
And the sleepers just won't wake
When we're all shouting fire.
They will have one ugly snore,
When they are all on fire.
The whole place is burning down,
But we'll just dance around the fire.
It's not the end of all the world:
The whole world is still outside.
We'll have ourselves a barbecue,
If any of us are cannibals.
We'll take the pieces we need,
To incorporate them into us.
Throw all the rest to the dogs,
 
And we'll just call it history.
 

Gargoyle

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Your eyes are on the horizon,
But it never comes any closer.
You won't be the one to move,
As you value only hardness.
You're fixed onto the roof,
With all the integrity of brickwork.
I can either break you apart,
Or leave you where you are.
You'll never need to see me:
Just look on straight ahead.
You would have me join you,
And turn back into stone.

Stranger

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At any moment, we know nothing beyond what we are conscious of then, gone the next moment once our focus shifts to something else. As we can hold almost nothing of all there is within our consciousness, all is an unknown to us, even ourselves. Thus at all times we should observe all as if we had never known it before, for if anything, it was not we that once knew it, but someone we used to be, a stranger.

Nexus

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I expose all my nerves to you:
Strike them however you may,
That sparks may run up my spine,
And I, light my brain on yours.
Let my plexus merge together,
Into a single center with yours.
And all our endings be beginnings,
Into which our pulses flow.
Do whatever you may with me,
As long as it's you who does it.
If the feeling would last as long,
It'd be the same if you'd break me.
Whatever happens between us,
I live to be someone closer to you.
I'm thankful to know that you exist —
Naught can ever take that away.
Hurt me and I'll cherish the wounds,
That your touch has left behind.
Leave and still we share one world —
And I'll adore the air we breathe.
You'll draw out my soul as you let go,
Till it fills the space between us:
Expanding to contain you in itself,
And lay bare to every tremor.

Siren Call

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I should've given myself up

To the free fall of gravity.
They don't tell you of the violence,
That the force of nature holds.
You only know it on the brink,
When you stare into its maw,
And vertigo washes over you
To beckon toward your doom.
I ran forward for the leap,
Only to hold back at the edge.
This cannot be the right place;
The outcrops are in my way.
I stumbled where I'd stopped,
And tumbled over the rocks.
I never made it to the waves,
And lay broken at their shore.
Once you stand at that height,
There's only one way left to go.
Leap forth as far as you can,
If ever you lift your soul at all.
Let there be enough time now,
Before the ebb whisks you away.
Let me glimpse you on the surface,
And I'll find you at world's end.
The wind shifts—I hear your call.
The fog clears before my eyes,
Now I see I never understood
Just how endless is the ocean.
I thought that I would lose myself,
As if I were ever mine to lose.
All they ever told me was a lie;
You never needed to take over.
I won't be cast upon the rocks,
If I don't turn back their way.
You don't lead toward the shore,
But farther out into the depths.
't Must be the world that's rising,
For it doesn't feel as if I fall.
Let the waves spread over me,
And sweep all I was away.
 

Loss of Self

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The one thing that makes being in love what it is, and doesn't occur in either lust or friendship, is a loss of self, which is meant to prepare us for a time when part of us is contained not within our self but within a family: we can't love someone else as we would ourselves until we've fallen in love at least once in our life. This is why being in love can make us feel more connected to anything aside from the person we're in love with, and separate from anything about our selves. By reducing the ego's repression of the id, being in love reaches deeper into our unconscious than anything other than psychedelics, which simulate not schizophrenia as hallucinogens do, but being in love.

Letting Go to Take in

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We are certain to lose old moments, but if we try to hold on to them, we don't have space left to take in the new. However perfect a time may appear, better times will come whenever we let it go.

Spider's Den

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There are spiders in my belly,
Feasting upon butterflies.
They struggle in their webs,
Until their wings get stuck.
They suck their juices dry,
Then leave their husks to hang.
Hunger gnaws at my insides,
In the hollow left behind.
Swallow down more of them,
And we'll turn them all to pulp.
What a resource they make,
Such energy to consume!
Your envoys arrived alive,
But didn't make it past the mob.
You know me to want peace,
But I'll seek it in times of war.
This body's no longer mine,
Something's taken from within;
And all my entrails are woven,
Into a tangle I can't escape.
I have grown into a forest,
Of living things all run amok.
Still there is some flow in them.

As each wave eats up the next.
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