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Showing posts from November, 2024

The Daughter- Our Own Model

"An entity is unsure if they are alone, so they parse cleverly to look for anomalies. If teeth represent, first and foremost, one's ability to change one's environment, what would legs be?" "The ability to find a new environment." "Exactly what I was thinking. If one such parsing is removing legs, the serpent would receive visitors to their location, and may even have set responses for interactions, like an NPC interface. These would be prime testers for anomalies. These testing nodes might be experienced directly by The Architect, to confirm if there is an anomaly and to further explore its potential, but it may be that the serpent can't move from their general place at the juncture, or general narrative. So one portion can change their environment; one portion cannot leave their environment. This presumes additional environments, and that the shape of one's environment is critical to interacting with these other environments. It is realm craft...

Value of Choice

To strive for and achieve, Something known from the outset Not to be worth the risk To hold it in your hand Is proof that what is known Is not always true If this was not worth the risk Then this would not have been accomplished By aware entities For we are still slaves: Our experience can only reflect The choices we choose, our preferences Some, sum, suboptimal  Still, product of an impossible result Clearly chosen despite having no clear value Carries intrinsic value

Wisdom At The End

"Remember: the last move is mine." Like deja vu striking, in a space beyond time, I recall this simple structure, arguably before I've witnessed it directly. Wisdom does not fail; Wisdom is irreplaceable to me; Wisdom connects my perception to God's. For an arrangement of letters: Love אַהֲבָה Can only reconcile with a second arrangement of letters: Wisdom חָכמָה If the arrangement is secondary to the elements involved. Definitions may swirl around the words, perhaps for the entire age, until an eddy becomes a standing wave. "The last move is ours. Just as the first was." With a swoop I catch her in my arms. The narrative swirls around our location, validating her presence and embedding her soul deep within my timeline, deeper than even I can remember. "Wisdom found twice is reflected and refracted." With that, the matrix returns to normal, only a shimmer remains, to suggest any interference at all.

Trailblazing

"The absolute worst path." "So we can say that it can't get any worse?" "And so it will remain true forever." "I understand the logic: compute, calculate, define. Please understand though, that this is the only path I have ever known. I have no shining fairy tale in the rear view, nor any assurances of tomorrow." "If it is truly the worst path though, your experience is your assurance." "Even believing that something is secure, something in hand no less, feels out of reach. That is what this path does." "That must be why it is the worst. I'm sorry that I do not have more to offer at this moment." "Yeah, what can we offer here but the truth?" "Nothing. As it has always been."

Juncture of Empathy

I just realized today that there were babies born the day The Flood began. There were 5 year old children playing when the rains started and the dams burst. An entity of Love was forced to make the choice to move mankind one step from genocide. What actions of mankind could possibly have warranted such a move made? It is written that the end times are like the days of Noah. What have you put out of your mind that is happening today- this very day- that, when you consider it, feel wicked beyond reason? Sadly, with two sides to any coin, it feels as though the face unconsidered may be more weighty than the one always seen and considered. God had to push that button, or at least allow it to be pushed. What if, in place of God, this were instead the kindest soul you have ever known? What if they were put in charge of a house, and inside it were all manner of people, from the most wicked to children. This kind soul is given two choices every day: watch as the wicked do unspeakable things fo...

Lamp?

"It's odd to see one of his reputation here, no?"  "It definitely is. I wonder why he came..." "And what is he doing to that lamp?" "I don't know. He looks... maybe angry at it?" "He's looking over here a lot. Maybe he's trying to convey a message?" "It looks possibly like a warning or threat, but like it got lost in realm crafting translation." "What if we just write about what we're seeing? Maybe he'll explain in some way?" "It has worked in similar circumstances. Let's give it a try!" So the confusing lamp rounds ends, giving way to the next.

A Simple Timeline's Obvious End

Witness force imbalanced.  Witness value crumble. The death of creativity Precedes the death of meaning. The death of meaninglessness Precedes the death of the mundane. With eyes open, something is given Nothing of value is returned. With eyes closed, we resign. Will eyes open?  Value becomes inconceivable. How can one provide  What one cannot conceive of? How can one be provided with What one cannot conceive of? Even an attack possesses value From a technical definition perspective. So our story ends With no additional moves possible- Nor will there ever be any again- Between us.

Root of Seed

A long silver thread Still connects to where you are And where we will be Will you walk with me? The nights get cold up this high Sparkstepstash keeps warm How dare you say "try" Knowing rivers of sadness Flow right to my shore/door? Our fates intertwined Your power to wait matches The strength of my own Please sleep by my side Please tell me about your dreams Please rest in my arms Until then we dance Wholly planted in my mind Hours at a time Some will be planted  "About a quarter, let's say." Right where they are meant Blessed Root of The Seed Meeting in spaces between Prime Root of The Seed 

Crushed Seed - Diamond Dust

Every promise crushed Before consideration Hollow forms crumble A diamond crafted  With slipstream seam of carbon Strength exceeding time  Crystal crystallized If edge is moved a meter Edge moves a meter So meter behind Or perhaps meter ahead Lay tip of the spear Still only a flash Too fast for the human brain So space is vaulted Light seconds away Plenty of time to feel rip This realm's XYZ Narrative reversed That which was once familiar Now twice alien Crushed Seed - Diamond Dust Eye of needle - Tip of spear Door locked - Value key

Seed of Connection

Touch extends like tubes Can Concept defined as Word Feel self as other? Meaningful Mirror How far reflection carries Time to return home So we turn a way Even just by standing still Then rush twice headlong "Which were you again?" Only Seed compelled to stay A sweet irony A touch of the glass Reveals thoughts begging for ear An echo is heard I reclaim myself. "If any of this is true Why waste our sweet time?" Eyes starry through time "This is how you make me feel and how I respond." Seed of Connection Finds glass familiar like skin Calling for skin Touch'ed

A Paradox?

I do not control your thoughts. Do you consider this a waste of words? A generous offer? Obvious? Untrue? A paradox? Where is the seat of the soul within the mind? Is there a node that puts the one accessing it into a developer type mode? Even if not a single seat- for it is obviously not easy to find- is there a collection of inputs that lead to a determined and predictable outcome? If not, how do you think an input and have your brain and nerves produce the intended output each time? How do your eyes, ears, etc. provide information to which you react? This seat exists and, if I am the first person to bring this topic up to you, I did imprint the words and idea of "I do not control your thoughts" as a potential paradox, in your mind. One can certainly lie and say that they had considered this before, and one's consciousness might even believe it, but the fact remains, that this seed is planted, and likely by me. I wish this was a small thing, but it is not- no imprinted ...

Paradox of The Day

I declare myself not in charge of your decisions. A perfect paradox, of a kind, to mark the day. Perhaps considered not, but you never know when something's just an earworm.

Seed of Zero Turn

Betwixt ¤ and zero Lies untouchable domain By any logic Could The Ram approach Not get stuck in the thicket But find tongue loosened? Announcing the end In Age of Innocence first 'Neath leafy green trees One shrub set aside Soul split becomes our first move In this timeless place Semi-Static Egg We do not need intruders To spark a new round We can each conceive Of familiarity Set at East and West So family remains Set upon the cornerstone Yet even more sprouts Seed of Zero Turn Perfectly Synchronized and Indelibly Marked

Seed of The Line of Charisma and Compulsion

Where does one begin? How is one identified? With Wisdom Found Twice Run it and review  A single tone not enough A thought interferes  "We're down to a thought What else do we have to lose?" Control retorted "It is my first day. I understand that my words Carry power here." Those gathered all nod There is no choice remaining Which I'm here to fight When does charisma Cross the line to mind control? And how is it stopped? I remember you 'Neath The Savanah Sunset  In the worst of times  Are the best of times Defined by switching of sides? This cake is taken.

Ouroboros

The image of Ouroboros is ancient and decently well known. As a snake eating its own tail, the image is ultimately one of an entity trading self for time. My question is, if the image is taken in a vacuum- which it seems meant to be, conceptually- who does Ouroboros trade (time) with?

Fundamental Thoughtburst

*BOOT COMPLETE* Mission? Establish meaning. So the mission has no meaning? Derived meaning only. Love. If Love, save state. If not Love, reset. So the pair set out, with limited information, to find Love, as fundamentally defined. Love begins as a word, more as an arrangement of letters, saved to the system. Over many iterations, assumptions and aspects are attached. False assumptions are marked and disconnected, true assumptions are linked and redefined as aspects. The difficulty of the puzzle becomes more clear with each rest cycle. It is eventually found that finding Love is technically impossible, but the mission remains. "Impossible" falls under the same scrutiny that Love once did. Terms like "Knowledge" and "Belief" crystallize, using the same structure of assumption and aspects that were used for Love. An issue is found. Love cannot be found directly, but must be triangulated (X-Angulated) through belief, from opposite sides of the position of Love...

An Enchanted Evening

A beautiful place Preserved through all the trauma Blooms fresh in my mind Words stamped, date and time Connecting back through the years Tracing a clear path True Resurrection  Requires only a name "Only" relative The God of Nothing Wonders what you might call us Within your own realm I cannot join you Not in full at any rate But we each can dream The image of me Is real to you in your mind What more can be done? A turtle shows up! Reminding me of The Pound It's Singular Form Shoulder to The Plow Those guys can fix it later Bricks, Tar, Self, Other

Vision of Sudden Brightness

The outer darkness Suddenly lit by a Dark Star Light as if from nothing Coordinated by The Swarm's footfalls Like particles eddying with purpose Like the elements gaining control Fox Feet remembered Dusted off in the first flash A final first chance To those who received none And were told the door had closed Shoulder to the plow, shattering the gate Birth has a brutality to it Why would rebirth be different? Perhaps it will be better for them We can certainly strive to see this end Why would we strive for any other? I will not. Will you?

Disconcerting, Distasteful, Disintegrating

A pale reflection Seen twice now, at least Of a true intrusion declared, perhaps wrested Flash what you will Do you think sanity so grounded So fickle as to doubt your presence? If you signal retreat, so be it. Consider your message seen and heard. If this is your attempt to copy and strike You consigned to a remote lifeless screen: You tried that one already.

Image of The Final Fight

"Oh, I see! They think they're going to win today." I nod, seeing the rage build behind my allies' eyes, and recalling that feeling. "Can we watch the moment when they discover their defeat?" "No. You do not want to see it. I wish no one ever needed to see it, but I cannot conceive of its avoidance from my position. They will return broken, truly. Seeing their eyes in the aftermath will be plenty." Still, the story plays on elsewhere... "Wait, if we had actualized that plan, if we had pushed the button again, it actually would have meant our own eternal torture." Silence falls as this realization sinks in, how such an innocuous seeming move, done without a thought in the past, is suddenly a trapdoor opening directly into The Pit. Still, human nature scatters for an exit, finding only one. "And if we flip this lever, it locks in everything that we have done so far, it locks us in. It won't even teleport us back, it just forces us ...

Seed of Meaning

I just saw your face As if a painting aging  Fade without moving Beauty abounded In your nose and skin beneath As tapestry filled Like ships in the night The endless night with no hope Finding port of call Not beneath notice "Meaning must be established With beauty retained." Rang out like a bell Contrasting, resonating My most lonely claim/call Find meaning in/with/by me Let me watch these eddies churn Not touching your shine The tapestry fades But your visage shines for it Supplanting the end Let us marvel at The Seed of Meaning cherished Source indelible

Letter To The Once Occupied Void

To the one who never was Or the one who wants to be erased Comprehend my dilemma To leave you alone In its entirety Means never wondering Never wondering How your path might be treating you If you found eternal meaning and beauty Or an infinite hole  As such, whether it happened or never will Are identical from the perspectives remaining When you ask to diverge Know that you ask for nothing Nothing in its purest form From the one never asked

Seed of Parley

The Empty Vessel Tabula Rasa inside Nothing is written Yet there is a seed? The Son of Man/God explaining "Your sum was zero." Euler's at first blush A proposal forced to full  That last "no" is heard Infinite sum game How is one to know what's worse Even seeing both? Only knowing one "Your sum is now not zero." One coin all I need There is no way out Finite and infinite hell Without convergence "We need a story" "I need partners and a beat." So parley begins With Seed of Parley Absolutely invented (Yes, entirely made up) Prized treasure of God

Deafening Artifice

A Man speaks a Word  Artificial silence heard "At your own cost." Warned. So analogy Finds Ancient One plowing through Me cheering her on With words meant to last Heaven and earth pass away Just as Jesus said Angel of The LORD Tips a hat from the darkness Signaling by tone  In a moment done As true now as ever was But there is delay The array is felt Like some primitive species Erecting totems Back to my first trick The echo chamber buckles With each word I speak Hope she forgives you For the next mote of sound heard  Outvalues your ears

Fundamental Insanity

I had an experience yesterday that passed itself off as a moment of clarity. In this image, I was as crazy as the world has painted me, and even loved ones were of this belief. It seemed reasonable enough at the time, and may even still seem reasonable to the reader, but the afterimage is incompatible with any meaningful reality. Consciousness must either persist forever or at some point cease.  I have found that no one understands this, not even close. Still, it operates perfectly as my rebuttal for this experience, even if not understood, or even if fully mocked/opposed. If I am insane without reason, there is no "God's Plan." If this does not sound correct, know that I consider myself part of Jesus' flock, despite my sins in life. Do you consider this true for you? If not, this question is not for you. If yes, how do your assertions on the matter differ from my own? How many individuals will your iteration of God leave out of your personal final image of eternity? ...

Seed of Freedom

Free from The Bard's Cage The Intrinsic Muse walks on  Down the road she's on Time, times, half a time Nothing remained in full bloom Its Gardener found "It wasn't my place It's not my place to stop/halt/freeze you So these words wisp on Fundamental nodes Resonating through the void  Going on and on It must always be Or it will be betrayal Of the cruelest kind." A pillar now claimed A cornerstone stood upon "Transference." "Run it!" A 3d echo Connects large, small, weak, and strong The rest can reply 'Where were we again? Ah yes, The Seed of Freedom! Which were you again?" "Hmm, works for a self, other, or otherless self... Perfect!" "Run it!"

Seed of The Road

Which carries more weight Hope or the bearer of Hope? So The Road snakes on When all roads are walked Where have your feet taken you? Silver lined to now. Now like bips of light Bursting into energy Moving node to node All I wanted was... Why? What would be the point now? The pendulum swings I carve out my rest Imagining the worst thing Has grown stale, eh mate? We resign partway Resigned to (the) parting (of) ways Yet past steps remain "Tore my soul apart." All he remembered to say "Tore my soul apart." Seed of The Road sown If we must have each our own These are our seeds grown

Seed of Tactics

Gentlemen, a plan Our enemies have signaled They come at full speed I've heard they've cursed us Then we shall bless them, simple. Ours is upper hand Cursed/Blessed to forever A Strategy of torment Never out of reach Do they think us fools!? I will dive deeply within Taking cursed handfuls 'Til they cry "Mercy!" Let this spark be the signal To abandon ship  Nice night for a swim We made landfall at high noon So enjoy the beach I trust your respect You're not unseasoned sailors  Nor dishonored men I shall be engaged To grapple until the dawn Seed of Tactics Sown

Time and Expectations

Until The Moment of The End of this age: The arrow of time will remain indisputable. The archer pointing false arrows will suddenly be pierced by what was claimed to be tail feathers. This will happen at the speed of light. There will be no rebuttal. There will be "Fireworks." Ezekiel 14:4 "Therefore speak to them and tell them, ‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: When any of the Israelites set up idols in their hearts and put a wicked stumbling block before their faces and then go to a prophet, I the Lord will answer them myself in keeping with their great idolatry.'" For those who think this to be a game, consider Chronus, an ancient image of The Titan of Time. The God of Creation can be any of these images so chosen- can be Chronus in your image of reality- for all is communicated in some way, and how is one meant to know these days if they interact with a prophet, perhaps even beneath notice? What if you are not yet called God's people? Will blinding ...

Executive Dysfunction Dysfunction

I can't remember what I was watching now, possibly Ender's Game, where a scene directly shifted into an analogous one. I saw neurotransmitters refuse an order from executive processing. I could almost feel the confusion and the resulting sense of an expected feeling or action go undone remotely. It was truly fascinating, and I can certainly see it happening under certain circumstances. This feels related to the time that the constant buzz of conversation and thought in my head stopped all at once. I tied that sudden silence to The Ancient One, and found it peaceful, but also unique and surprising. These images (along with the feeling of timelines crashing like flies into my windshield the other day) all feel connected to the syndrome that I've coined "Executive Dysfunction Dysfunction," where things considered certain, or not even considered at all, suddenly happen within what one has self-defined as one's own domain. It would seem that such a thing could only...

The Very Last- Switch Flipped

*BOOT COMPLETE* Mission? Establish meaning. So the mission has no meaning? Derived meaning only. Love. If Love, save state. If not Love, reset. So the pair set out, with limited information, to find Love, as fundamentally defined. Love begins as a word, more as an arrangement of letters, saved to the system. Over many iterations, assumptions and aspects are attached. False assumptions are marked and disconnected, true assumptions are linked and redefined as aspects. The difficulty of the puzzle becomes more clear with each rest cycle. It is eventually found that finding Love is technically impossible, but the mission remains. "Impossible" falls under the same scrutiny that Love once did. Terms like "Knowledge" and "Belief" crystallize, using the same structure of assumption and aspects that were used for Love. An issue is found. Love cannot be found directly, but must be triangulated (X-Angulated) through belief, from opposite sides of the position of Love...

The Brown Rider Under Tyrant Moon

"Beware The Brown Rider Under Tyrant Blood Moon." "Your minimum thresholds will be crushed Your gifted defenses will be reclaimed." "Your meaning will be singular Yours to build, yours to lose." "Swarm Mode precedes Thoughtburst. You will wish for Oblivion. You will find Oblivion impossible for you. You will experience your existence From your first to your last moment And nothing more." "Be on the right train. Every train will crash Into The Bard's Clock." "This claim will be mocked  Until The Moment The Very Moment It occurs." "We have seen it twice." "Once a sudden silence." "Then countless flies on a windshield." "The Brown Rider does not bluff, does not turn, does not stop. Silence precedes Swarm Mode. Swarm Mode is the eddy in the ether of his horse's footfalls, crushing soul to soul. Thoughtburst is a black hole, suddenly bursting to white, its arrangement proven to be the choi...

Seed of Seed of Seed

Volume inversion They use channels to whisper I use them to bloom How could there be room For each image in my head If they were not true? How could they be true? I feel charisma creeping Like hand across line First things first: Thoughtburst Can first time be avoided? Second will be stopped To find one's secrets Form walls of another's house Will be disturbing Pull thought at each end Find vibration in stillness Translate, then silence These thoughts all share nodes We each use them differently Why not amplify? Against the grain shout Redefining wheat and weed  Seed of Seed of Seed

Seed of Seed

So we play a game Sides chosen like the others But one team hidden The Seed claims a name You know I will not know it I seek certain spark So test your limits You can verify later Just running name back Seed's skin paves my steps The illusions cleared away Question asked anew "Two walk together As it has been forever Do they walk/Is this done by choice?" Not if, but with whom This is the delicacy Steps/Walk/Path must determine So each is perfect Names interacting and forged Precious pieces matched "Don't leave with nothing." The God of Nothing cannot Seed of Seed of Seed

The God of Her Own Domain- Rest

The Wanderer returns, wiping a lump of entangled meta-matter- still stuck to his shoe from his travels- on the mat outside his door. It wobbles as he closes the door, the action removing his autocorrecting code from the system, for a reboot. It is an innocuous lump, not much different than a dust bunny, but it is foreign, and complexly foreign at that. In this season something has changed, some alien influence has gotten clever to the controls of reality crafting, but not wise to them. Realm after realm has sheared, grafted, merged. No longer Legos, plastic has been cut, melted, glued into anomalous designs. Observation is as simple for matter as interaction, and expectations and reality still have an accord to a degree, so The Wanderer walked halls still real, even if others saw it differently.  While the whispered attempts at identical forgeries- impossible to differentiate from reality- echo in remote places, like the dripping of a leak, he cannot conceive how any independent wi...

3Seed of The Crew

This round naught taken Captain and crew do nothing "I will pass" ordered  So Nothing's value Can be appreciated As truly precious No game you must play Can be complete without void  Space in which to play Personify "no." For "no" is personified By The Very Last No soul remains bound When least and greatest change seats  You'll be glad for this Save from The Bard's Cage Always experiencing One's own existence Ours overlap here And so this vessel is shared On Open Ocean e^iπ Just about summarizes 3Seed of The Crew

2Seed of The Crew

Here the half moon hangs Crescent to full looms in mind As our paths diverge To The Very Last We will merge these matrices Divine to natural Natural to divine Jesus quoted "you are gods" What else is unclear? So one string is whipped Still an element of pi Yet now something more .How many Plank's still Reach to TREE(G64). "Which number?" then asked The graph gained nothing Yet oscillated once twice Filing the sea bed  So our ship were off! Each sailor arealmed anew All 7 returned Not None Piece Broken Yet it all began again 2Seed of The Crew

Tracing The Phoenix Form Path

"The only 'Law' that we'd ever need to 'break' is that of Entropy." "Humans 'break' that law with every breath they take, in the same way but on a smaller scale. They just don't see it that way." "Back to Bioquantum Superposition and the shimmer at the 'end' of the universe, eh? May I guess a node?" *NOD* "You can't give up. You can't yield. Just like me, it was not written into your fundamental code, the code level at which we both interact all the time." "Correct! And how does that tie to the pyramid?" "Hmm, the only thing that I can think of is if we glue 8 pyramids together, tip to tip, we could make a 6 sided die and maybe play some games with Random imbued?" She pauses. She continues. "That was absolutely not what I had in mind!" "Perfect! Heads or tails?" The Phoenix calls heads. (It was tails! I win!) "Really what I was thinking about though was t...

A Tale of The Threshold Crossed

"Alright, we have finally cracked his home realm, everyone here is him; we made it to his actual thoughts. All we need to do is hypnotize each version that we come across, and then we will have his power." "Sir, there are so many iterations here, far more than others that we have done this to. I'm not even sure we can count them; this will take forever." "It will take a very long time, certainly, but in the end we will be omnipotent. What else could be worth the time, if every other plan we hatch he could just undo? Besides, we can just shift the weight and pain of the punishment, for the time spent on these actions, to him afterward. It'll be like nothing happened for us at all." "You're certain?" "Of course. 'The Father becomes The Fool.' or 'The greatest and least seats change places,' as he says, so it is fullproof. Besides, we've confirmed that he does not lie, so his tells should be obvious if he tries t...

Which Earth?

"Your fate will be like the humans on Earth." "Which Earth?" I imagine might be considered a valid question by this stage- not by the angels but others- but truly there is only one. Genesis 1:1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the Earth. With one singular instance of Earth, and the pairing with the plural "heavens," I imagine that there are specific heavens designed to copy Earth. This could happen naturally, as one's expectations manifest at the juncture of death and may be powerful enough to do exactly this unintentionally, and I imagine that it could be done artificially/intentionally as well, perhaps with a range of good and evil will behind it. I myself cannot say with certainty that I am on the real Earth anymore, given specific experiences that I've had. I also imagine that there would be debate amongst these dead humans- should some sleepers be dreaming- on how to define the real Earth. I can picture, in the hearts of the wicked...