The idea of perfection is a far-fetched notion of every unlikeliness, yet, I seek to follow the unrealistic ideal path that you have set before me, that leads to this way of perfection. It is my esteemed honor to serve my Lord of the Light. I set aside the past, I set aside humanity for what it is in its clinging to flesh and carnal and desire and sin. I reject the promises of this world governed by the darkness. I see only the world of light and life and love. This is the way that burns passionately as the golden compass to my spiritual heritage.
I wonder if I have enough strength. I am unworthy, I am nothing but dirt. I am made of this earth, then how do I reject myself. This path leads me to ambiguity and uncertainty, then fear and doubt as I have not yet discovered the key secret of this way. How do I live this way. How do I attain perfection. How do I gain the strength to be completely controlled and obedient and ordered and good. How do I learn fortitude and discipline. Perfection. Is it even possible. I strive for the impossible in order to prove that it is possible so that others may know the way also. And I am the fist of a new sort, for in this way, I am the way, but I believe in it, even if no one else dares to. I believe that it has been prepared for me that I should walk in this way to inspire this light and life and truth and love in others.
i am unworthy; distinctly imperfect and sincerely flawed. i am very human and conflicted and my struggle is definite and polar and ambiguous. i am war seeking peace.
Friday, May 7, 2010
World of Words
I feel that I am sleeping again now. retreated and retracted my aching heart has forgotten its own name. Stoic and static is the environment created by my own waking dream. Remnant only of the path that has been chosen for me, by me, only of the part that I have chosen to fulfill as my own legacy.
People and voices and movement and chaos, and in the midst of it all, I find peace and purposeful understanding. I am beholded as I behold the calling to know the instrument that sounds the music of this new way. Here I am dancing in bewilderment of my mended mounding mind.
And I have mastered the covenant of the English language. It flows through me like a fluid song of cognitive communion. It is not enough for me. These people in my life are from all over the world and from all of the nations of the world. I want so eagerly to know the volumes of words and phrases of their languages. But I fall short because I do not know. I cannot fully be open to them and accepting of these people, out lives are unable to merge seamlessly because we are of different worlds.
People and voices and movement and chaos, and in the midst of it all, I find peace and purposeful understanding. I am beholded as I behold the calling to know the instrument that sounds the music of this new way. Here I am dancing in bewilderment of my mended mounding mind.
And I have mastered the covenant of the English language. It flows through me like a fluid song of cognitive communion. It is not enough for me. These people in my life are from all over the world and from all of the nations of the world. I want so eagerly to know the volumes of words and phrases of their languages. But I fall short because I do not know. I cannot fully be open to them and accepting of these people, out lives are unable to merge seamlessly because we are of different worlds.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Mental Exhaustion
"The world is a tragedy to those who feel, but a comedy to those who think".. -Horace Walpole (1717-1797)
Mental Exhaustion. The breakdown. I wondered when it would all come together or make sense again. My life of chaotic confusion took only days to become riveted by simulation punctuation of the pivotal universal truth. I prayed for the strength to mend a broken heart. To overcome my pain.
Yes, mental exhaustion, because I have so much to learn, so much to adjust to. I have to give so much of myself, and in many ways, be self-sacrificial to the cause. Constructive criticism by those who coach me and lead me to know the routes of this new way make me feel so far away, so lacking and unprepared to fulfill my new obligations. Sometimes I feel lost and overwhelmed with responsibilities. Sometimes I feel so alone.
Oh what a foolish thought to feel alone in a world that I can call home. Where I know that people care about me, and where there are people who I care about fondly. I am free with these whom I call family. Where we are birds of a father. Flocking together, I am not alone.
This place feels like my destiny, feels like home. Everything is purposeful and dynamic and powerful in its very essence. Everything that I love most lives here with me in this place. I fell in love for the very first time. I found my heart. I saw the revelation of everything that I believe in most. I am free to dream and to exist within the captivity of pure freedom. I am emancipated and expelled from all states of fear.
Everyday that I live here I come closer to the future where I am at one with the emancipated legacy of my visions. Each day leads me nearer to the point of no return where I am one with the pinnacle of my sole purpose here in this Earth-bound reality.
To tell the story of the Birds Bees and Butterflies, in the way only my dreams know to tell. The secrets of mystical revelations given to me through the looking glass of my soul-filled mind, the windows through which I have seen all things, of the past and of the future. It hurts to know so much, to see and understand things of the world. But my eyes are opened to enlightenment; I have the gift.
Mental Exhaustion. The breakdown. I wondered when it would all come together or make sense again. My life of chaotic confusion took only days to become riveted by simulation punctuation of the pivotal universal truth. I prayed for the strength to mend a broken heart. To overcome my pain.
Yes, mental exhaustion, because I have so much to learn, so much to adjust to. I have to give so much of myself, and in many ways, be self-sacrificial to the cause. Constructive criticism by those who coach me and lead me to know the routes of this new way make me feel so far away, so lacking and unprepared to fulfill my new obligations. Sometimes I feel lost and overwhelmed with responsibilities. Sometimes I feel so alone.
Oh what a foolish thought to feel alone in a world that I can call home. Where I know that people care about me, and where there are people who I care about fondly. I am free with these whom I call family. Where we are birds of a father. Flocking together, I am not alone.
This place feels like my destiny, feels like home. Everything is purposeful and dynamic and powerful in its very essence. Everything that I love most lives here with me in this place. I fell in love for the very first time. I found my heart. I saw the revelation of everything that I believe in most. I am free to dream and to exist within the captivity of pure freedom. I am emancipated and expelled from all states of fear.
Everyday that I live here I come closer to the future where I am at one with the emancipated legacy of my visions. Each day leads me nearer to the point of no return where I am one with the pinnacle of my sole purpose here in this Earth-bound reality.
To tell the story of the Birds Bees and Butterflies, in the way only my dreams know to tell. The secrets of mystical revelations given to me through the looking glass of my soul-filled mind, the windows through which I have seen all things, of the past and of the future. It hurts to know so much, to see and understand things of the world. But my eyes are opened to enlightenment; I have the gift.
iEmerge
I emerge myself in this life. My body aches of training. Blood sweat tears. Mental exhaustion. Focus, concentration distinctly merging with the sound of music, searching for my own flow in the synchronicity of rhythmic value. I embrace the days as they come together one at a time, unveiling the menacing ritual habitation. I am who I am. I come face to face with the truth in the revelation of my own destiny. I create the embodiment of the whole world within me. I choose as I define myself. I become empowered with the strength to overcome the obstacles that attempt to limit me to a stark reality of embossed codes of emprisonment. The fear and pain and anxiety that once distorted the reality I once knew are mere illusions. Perception is this reality. I dwell now in a world of Gods and Angels, where our dimensions are paralleled by nothing. I understand that everything that I have learned about life up until this point has been a mere instructional tutorial in an avid attempt to prepare me for this testament of this day.
Spotting
I dance in circles and my head does not spin out of control because I know who I am and where I am going. My soul purpose is to tell the ultimate story. How do I find the words and where do I begin. There are no words, but the infinite means of expression are limitless. I'll dance in circles all around the world, and I will never be alone, always flying with these angels. I'll never give up, back down, walk away. I thought that I would spend a lifetime in a Catholic Convent., in prayer under holy orders of the church, dressed in garments of the habits that I would wear as I perform my daily rituals in service of a life that is pure and most virtuous. I prepared myself to give up the whole world because none of it meant anything. The most important thing to me, was to keep my purity, retained in the protected confines of the sanctuary that I wished I could call home forever.
Establishment of Life
Blank pages staring back at me, unreasonably, I try to decode the stoic nature of an impulsive void. Seemingly the response is stark. I don't really understand the symbolic nature of the words that are defined by the principal origins. Uncomfortably, the tension resides within, yet I resolve my indifference by bending within the realming regions of my elasticity. Bouncing back, I collectively submit to the flexibility of an ever merging momentum of free flowing evolution of light and life. The music is a vibration of electricity bouncing off of the walls. When the speed of light meets the sound of music, I come alive in the most pre-eminent of all means of matter.
Because there are no words to express the righteous sound of music, the righteous language of the free element is a contemplative value more definite than the construction of any tongue. Infinitively is the long standing dynamics of our own origins in the regional momentum of synchronicity and function.
From a distance the whole world is blue and green. I think that I would be more free if I could always fly and only knew the view of an aerial perspective from very far away. The whole world is green and alive and fresh and new and good - creative energy lives and dwells and is preceded by the illumination of a material warmth that surpasses the limitations of a gravitational bound to the soiled earth. The nature of things come to live in the fertile bound and the energy releases creative masses to be fulfilled. I am the essence of an overjoyed incubation of self. I am rivited by the explosive energy that is contrary to death, because it is life. It comes alive and blooms and blooms and blossoms in the birth of goodness and glory.
I believe in a world of purity, where dreams come alive through the faithful pursuit of tribute to truth in the establishment of life.
Because there are no words to express the righteous sound of music, the righteous language of the free element is a contemplative value more definite than the construction of any tongue. Infinitively is the long standing dynamics of our own origins in the regional momentum of synchronicity and function.
From a distance the whole world is blue and green. I think that I would be more free if I could always fly and only knew the view of an aerial perspective from very far away. The whole world is green and alive and fresh and new and good - creative energy lives and dwells and is preceded by the illumination of a material warmth that surpasses the limitations of a gravitational bound to the soiled earth. The nature of things come to live in the fertile bound and the energy releases creative masses to be fulfilled. I am the essence of an overjoyed incubation of self. I am rivited by the explosive energy that is contrary to death, because it is life. It comes alive and blooms and blooms and blossoms in the birth of goodness and glory.
I believe in a world of purity, where dreams come alive through the faithful pursuit of tribute to truth in the establishment of life.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Anthem
The earth keeps spinning, makes me dizzy now. I watch as everything goes around in circles, turning out of control, in control of the rotation is the revolution; A revolver on its axis, telling time, reading time, recording time as it is told over and over again. Never stopping, unstoppable, where will it end? It won’t end. The cycle is on repeat. Wash, rinse, and repeat. The spin cycle! Dizzy, am I, as my whole world is now flipped upside down, inside out… and it never stops. Like the rock as it rolls – Avalanche! A natural disaster... The twisted tornado called Cyclone terribly destroys everything in its path – uprooting the deeply rooted – gravitating beyond the forbidden. Unbreakable winds. Unbeatable odds. What were the odds of this happening? Such an oddity was this catastrophe that no one saw it coming. They were unable to predict the time.
And you ask why as if there were any answers to be gained of such a questions. The obvious answer is that there are no answers. Explanation is a science and interpretation is an art, thus, the best we can hope for is the means to expressively dictate the counteractions of the contagious fall. There, you have it. If at all possible to understand what it means to be, to exist, to experience this experimental development of a unified social clause – resolving the secrets of simple stories simply untold, kept hidden for ages from the age of the ages left behind. History was the stories he told, and her story was left untold – lost in an ocean of buried treasures. Yet still, when all is revealed by illumination, it became obvious, that the answers were all blatantly obvious all along. More still, there are no answers, on the quest-I-on.
Quest; I request to know the vision inside that only I can see to know and hope to understand. Dictate nothing, for your words are empty and static. Freedom is found as I Quest. Ions of creative genetic genes evolve into a genealogy of genius sentiments. A generation lost in time now begins at one at once and multiplies beyond the necessity of doubt, for her in this new era, there is certainty for each individual in the discovery of multiplicity in the reality of Uni. Unsurpassed by space or time in a region of defined depth and detail this, something unexplained and unexplainable. Yet, even still, ever still, seeks to find a way to express, to explain the interpretive visions of a life beyond words – as perception of reality changes the provocative realism into something unreal, unrealized until now, yet, as reality changes with the time, the Quest remains constantly driven by time.
Dull – the drab writings on the wall ought to be erased. Painted as a blank canvas. Tear down the nonsensical distinction of defined perimeters, principalities in records that lawful fools wrote in order to order an order of the ordered and ordained. Rulers rule as a service of documented jargon to serve as word as god as supreme. Dull. What a bore to discover the more than mildly miscalculated gumptions of the obviously mediocre substitutes for freedom. An excuse for the way, a lie called the truth and death known as life. Imprisonment sentenced to a rule… a step by step diagram of formulated formulations. The formulas that, ones by one, never stop coming. Here we come. There is no other way, for me there is no way to be other than not to be, a stipulation by the regulation of regal regulations of the regular regional regime. Here we go. Refusing to be dull. Rebel against the bore.
Exasperated! The fumes of insecticide fumigated the scene trying to kill off what the product called chem., is trying creatively as intended to ignore the word by claiming climax.
And you ask why as if there were any answers to be gained of such a questions. The obvious answer is that there are no answers. Explanation is a science and interpretation is an art, thus, the best we can hope for is the means to expressively dictate the counteractions of the contagious fall. There, you have it. If at all possible to understand what it means to be, to exist, to experience this experimental development of a unified social clause – resolving the secrets of simple stories simply untold, kept hidden for ages from the age of the ages left behind. History was the stories he told, and her story was left untold – lost in an ocean of buried treasures. Yet still, when all is revealed by illumination, it became obvious, that the answers were all blatantly obvious all along. More still, there are no answers, on the quest-I-on.
Quest; I request to know the vision inside that only I can see to know and hope to understand. Dictate nothing, for your words are empty and static. Freedom is found as I Quest. Ions of creative genetic genes evolve into a genealogy of genius sentiments. A generation lost in time now begins at one at once and multiplies beyond the necessity of doubt, for her in this new era, there is certainty for each individual in the discovery of multiplicity in the reality of Uni. Unsurpassed by space or time in a region of defined depth and detail this, something unexplained and unexplainable. Yet, even still, ever still, seeks to find a way to express, to explain the interpretive visions of a life beyond words – as perception of reality changes the provocative realism into something unreal, unrealized until now, yet, as reality changes with the time, the Quest remains constantly driven by time.
Dull – the drab writings on the wall ought to be erased. Painted as a blank canvas. Tear down the nonsensical distinction of defined perimeters, principalities in records that lawful fools wrote in order to order an order of the ordered and ordained. Rulers rule as a service of documented jargon to serve as word as god as supreme. Dull. What a bore to discover the more than mildly miscalculated gumptions of the obviously mediocre substitutes for freedom. An excuse for the way, a lie called the truth and death known as life. Imprisonment sentenced to a rule… a step by step diagram of formulated formulations. The formulas that, ones by one, never stop coming. Here we come. There is no other way, for me there is no way to be other than not to be, a stipulation by the regulation of regal regulations of the regular regional regime. Here we go. Refusing to be dull. Rebel against the bore.
Exasperated! The fumes of insecticide fumigated the scene trying to kill off what the product called chem., is trying creatively as intended to ignore the word by claiming climax.
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