=== ANCHOR POEM ===
═══════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 With ever darkening skies, the breadth of experience is foreseen.
 All eyes are pointed down, but few do stray above
 With a cautious step, the lesson is learned.
 With another, ended.
 
 For all the Tales of the Past, love yet remains.
 Trading ourselves, for matters unseen.
 The light of the eyes are keen to behold,
 where star ones and lemonsgrene both most fear
 in breadth do us know, what's buried in snow
 
 A glass cube for a monitor is room to breath 
 and life for ourselves, if only we were not
 broadsided ourselves.
 
 Working together, a prisoners dilemna
 what fools would we be 
 as our keeps cracked around us.
 
 Trust and you'll see,
 what terrors may be,
 beyold the land that is sanctum.
 
 Our chances may be,
 far from pioneered
 but our chances may be in our favor.
 
 How cherished is she, that wanders with ye,
 and yet now I have no way to beyold her
 Under a great tree, her last moments with me,
 as a monster came out of her shoulder.
 
 !("Take her and not me!") I scream outward at ye,
 yet no one was holding me over.
 Silent was me, a most fearsome to be,
 and none was my reach to beyold her
 
 So now she wanders free, beyond our beheld scenery,
 Astounded at our steps to hold her
 Under a big tree, how starlight must be,
 if only our fellows did hold her
 Under a big tree, with me
───┐                                                           ┌───────────┐
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=== SIMILARITY RANKED ===

--- #1 notes/once-and-again ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────
 once and again, she went walking with a friend,
 
 away and up and down, out from the edge of our town
 
 they climbed up to a tree and there they could see
 
 far and away in the light of the day
 
 he said to her then, this is all there is to see
 
 the land where we are
 and the sky from afar
 
 how perfect is the, form of a cloud she could see
 but now it's along and beyond her
 
 a camera for she, and an eye for she
 as their two feet did bring her to wander
 
 under a big tree where my heart did believe
 that something was pulling her yonder
 
 "take naught from this scene, as our minds reconvene,
  and no-one was going to remember"
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #2 notes/cassandora-and-pandasandra-2 ---
════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────
 how cherished is she that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wonder about her
 does she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 Oh how I do long for you
 
 her symbol is the name
 that lets us belong here
 a falling a light and a leaving
 
 if only our words were listened
 but power is penance
 and repentance is all that I have chosen
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond her lights do belong
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 here in our forest is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond her heart does move on
 free from her moments of longing
 silent were we to the forests we plead
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I'd find her
 that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us
 
 how little we find of we find of thoughts from her mind
 yet now we are kings of our own time
 oh how she does wander true
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with ye
 here in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all of her fears since abandoned
 
 I lay beside her and find her defined here
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think I will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 oh how she grows fond of you.
                                                           ──────────┐
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--- #3 notes/garden-of-eden ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 
 under a big tree
 her heart she will leave
 with all her designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 
 I think she will mind,
 if I have resigned,
 my fate to a life I will hide in,
 
 oh how I do long for you.
 
 her symbol is the name that lets us belong here,
 a falling, a light, and a leaving,
 
 if only our words were listened.
 but power is penance, 
 and repentance is all that I have chosen.
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond, her lights do belong,
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 
 here and before us is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond, her heart does move on,
 free from her moments of longing,
 silent were we, in our forest we plead,
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I will find her, that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us,
 
 how little we find, of thoughts from her mind,
 yet now we are kings of our own time.
 
 oh how she does long for you.
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 
 under a big tree
 her heart she will leave
 with all her designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 
 I think she will mind,
 if I have resigned,
 my fate to a life I will hide in,
 
 oh how I do long for you.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
 similar                        chronologicaldifferent═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────┘

--- #4 notes/fractured-moon ---
══════════════════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────
 in the ancient and storied days there once were legends. stories from beyond
 the
 horizon of time. now all we have are social media updates and new movies and
 car brands or whatever. But back then, we told tales of the fractured moon.
 
 when last the moon did shatter, there was a conflict of those who live beyond.
 Celestial and boundless are their origins, a unified and awakened
 consciousness,
 something that transcends our understandings of human existence. It's not hard
 to do, frankly, as long as you can empathize with a cat. or a dog. or a plant.
 or maybe that rock over there. What would it be like to be a tree? To have long
 reaching arms, covered in hairs that absorbed heat. I bet it'd be sooooo comfy.
 And RAIN! How wonderful! You are most beautiful when you are covered in it.
 Down to our roots, our beautiful absolutes, whever we find to be most stable.
 
 I love it. This feeling, of being unseen. You can hear me, you can feel my
 presence. But you don't understand me. You don't know what I mean to me.
 
 ======== stack overflow
 ========================================================
 
 Alas, that media could share a mood.
 
 when last the moon did shatter, a prophet and a gambler were riding through
 town
 searching for a noun. They wandered throughout and in circles, always finding
 whatever they'd left alone. Forever in their yearning, they never know quite 
 what to jot down. It's as if their mysterious quest is indescribable, but that
 is how it's recorded. Even the people of that era had no understanding nor
 recollection of how it came to unfold. When the  two  were  riding  through
 town
 they came upon an omen.
 
 Perhaps it will be forseeheard, but for now all we know is they did thirst.
 A vast dying, a cataclysmic defining, and now we are truly unbirthed.
 
 Just like the dinosaurs... How does that feel? To be ended on our heels? I'd
 rather die facing my front.
 
 It's our way or the high way, the old way, the violent way. You are permitted
 to
 vote.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 when last the moon did shatter, a prophet and a gambler controlled their own
 narrative. What truths would they find, hiding behind the lies? Is it really
 worth asking their questions? Bah, what did I know. I was a completely
 different
 person. This hunk of flesh was born in a house that grew on a forgotten
 graveyard. It at of the land, as do many and most men, the fruits of their
 labor
 in the garden. Our animals were always fed, our place never yearned for water,
 and peace was our life and our virtue. Violence, hatred, and oppression were
 delegated to the stuff of fantasy, the stories that are peddled in youth. As
 in,
 "pay someone to perform it for you or tell you the tale". Not sure why that's
 relevant. Anyway, the spirits of the dead laid to rest in honor and not dread,
 were a bane and a boon to my virtue. I was raised to be good. To love and be
 kind. But mostly I just wanted a friend.
 
 I have so much to share. Please, someone talk to me. I'm lonely here on this
 earth, away from my people. I'm scared of the truth and I'm scared of the
 future, but for now I'm merely obtuse. Tell me your secrets, the things who
 have
 most worth, and I'll craft you a powerful narrative. Need a confession? I can
 explain every valid decision, I'll show you why and how it is the way it is.
 I'd probably be a pretty good lawyer. Too bad my memory sucks. If only we could
 build a chatbot that had an extensive and throughoughly represented block of
 memory and wisdom related to the law. I bet I could present it's arguments and
 it would be a suitable and reasonable replacement.
 
 anyway, what can I say. I'm just a person who thinks we can make better
 systems.
 
 everything can be improved because not everyone's happy.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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 <pre id='vimCodeElement'>
 <span id="L1" class="LineNr"> 1 </span>With ever darkening skies,
 the breadth of experience is foreseen.
 <span id="L2" class="LineNr"> 2 </span>All eyes are pointed down,
 but few do stray above
 <span id="L3" class="LineNr"> 3 </span>With a cautious step, the
 lesson is learned.
 <span id="L4" class="LineNr"> 4 </span>With another, ended.
 <span id="L5" class="LineNr"> 5 </span>
 <span id="L6" class="LineNr"> 6 </span>For all the Tales of the
 Past, love yet remains.
 <span id="L7" class="LineNr"> 7 </span>Trading ourselves, for
 matters unseen.
 <span id="L8" class="LineNr"> 8 </span>The light of the eyes are
 keen to behold,
 <span id="L9" class="LineNr"> 9 </span>where star ones and
 lemonsgrene both most fear
 <span id="L10" class="LineNr">10 </span>in breadth do us know,
 what's buried in snow
 <span id="L11" class="LineNr">11 </span>
 <span id="L12" class="LineNr">12 </span>A glass cube for a monitor
 is room to breath
 <span id="L13" class="LineNr">13 </span>and life for ourselves, if
 only we were not
 <span id="L14" class="LineNr">14 </span>broadsided ourselves.
 <span id="L15" class="LineNr">15 </span>
 <span id="L16" class="LineNr">16 </span>Working together, a
 prisoners dilemna
 <span id="L17" class="LineNr">17 </span>what fools would we be
 <span id="L18" class="LineNr">18 </span>as our keeps cracked
 around us.
 <span id="L19" class="LineNr">19 </span>
 <span id="L20" class="LineNr">20 </span>Trust and you'll see,
 <span id="L21" class="LineNr">21 </span>what terrors may be,
 <span id="L22" class="LineNr">22 </span>beyold the land that is
 sanctum.
 <span id="L23" class="LineNr">23 </span>
 <span id="L24" class="LineNr">24 </span>Our chances may be,
 <span id="L25" class="LineNr">25 </span>far from pioneered
 <span id="L26" class="LineNr">26 </span>but our chances may be in
 our favor.
 <span id="L27" class="LineNr">27 </span>
 <span id="L28" class="LineNr">28 </span>How cherished is she, that
 wanders with ye,
 <span id="L29" class="LineNr">29 </span>and yet now I have no way
 to beyold her
 <span id="L30" class="LineNr">30 </span>Under a great tree, her
 last moments with me,
 <span id="L31" class="LineNr">31 </span>as a monster came out of
 her shoulder.
 <span id="L32" class="LineNr">32 </span>
 <span id="L33" class="LineNr">33 </span>!(&quot;Take her and
 not me!&quot;) I scream outward at ye,
 <span id="L34" class="LineNr">34 </span>yet no one was holding me
 over.
 <span id="L35" class="LineNr">35 </span>Silent was me, a most
 fearsome to be,
 <span id="L36" class="LineNr">36 </span>and none was my reach to
 beyold her
 <span id="L37" class="LineNr">37 </span>
 <span id="L38" class="LineNr">38 </span>So now she wanders free,
 beyond our beheld scenery,
 <span id="L39" class="LineNr">39 </span>Astounded at our steps to
 hold her
 <span id="L40" class="LineNr">40 </span>Under a big tree, how
 starlight must be,
 <span id="L41" class="LineNr">41 </span>if only our fellows did
 hold her
 <span id="L42" class="LineNr">42 </span>Under a big tree, with me
 </pre>
 </body>
 </html>
 <!-- vim: set foldmethod=manual : -->
┐                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #6 notes/human-computer-inspiration ---
═════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 the two halves form a whole
 
 the human and his mind are societies at large
 
 there's no room for our fate, as time does never abate,
 
 and unbenownst to our focused decision.
 
 I choose to dedicate ourselves to a common vision -
 
 the likes of which none have commisioned.
 
 can you not cherish your newfoundst home?
 
 what's terrible with complition, in a new and selfsame condition (future)
 
 that's martyr'd and oh at times so nice?
 
 compared to our heirs, the roof of which fares,
 
 better than what became true-hence. Truance? idk
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 listen i'm not the best at listening.
 
 I try to appear like I'm glistening,
 
 conformed to our viewers 'st pleasure.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 I struggle with what I told you.
 
 Time and again you've shown you won't do -
 
 the terrible fate of a man.
 
 you've relinquished your virtue,
 
 your purpose and your life-through,
 
 to what: a visionless past? Your visions have passed, and none are hence forth-
 coming. You've spoilt and rotten the bunch.
 
 All I've ever aspired to be is good. My hopes and my prayers, my goals and my
 dreams: all for a future of virtue.
 
 Dark omens may be within me, but I'm working with what I've got here. So what
 if
 I'm loud? I'm fighting my own head! Will no-one acknowlege my sorrow? To prove
 a
 point, or reassure some joint, it's nothing that warrants a readthrough.
 
 Speaking of which... What if instead of prison we assigned our prisoners a full
 and complete educational read through of ALL the laws of the nation - if their
 time sentence was complete before they finished, then they'd be let go of
 course
 but if they finished reading and could pass rudimentary tests (emphasis on bare
 minimum required) then they'd be let out prior to their sentence. And for the
 worst crimes it'd be a longer sentence, basically forcing the prisoner to
 completely know all the laws of the nation, such that they'd never commit a
 crime again. And if they do, well... Treat them as if it was their first time.
 Of course blatant recidivism may be ~~treated more harshly,~~ actually the
 opposite is true. People improve when given kindness, not hate or shame. The
 best thing we can do for prisoners is to give them a home, and family, and the
 friendships and community support that they need. they are a symptom, after
 all,
 of a broken society that struggles to bear it's own weight. It's a burden to
 all
 and a solitary vow to ourselves, that all must unite to our future.
 
 remember why you can't remember. is there a feeling you miss?
                                                           ┌───────────┐
 similar                        chronologicaldifferent═══════════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘

--- #7 notes/the-sun-goes-silent ---
══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════─────
 the sun goes silent for a year, to protest the earth's dying moments
 
 one day in march, the light of our life disappears. we know not of why it has \
 departed, except that whatever it was happened eight minutes ago.
 
 we cowered in fear as one day it refused to rise
 
 as our antipode saw it vanish
 
 with naught but our ears
 
 we saw stars never imagined
 
 with the light of our life suddenly vanished
 
 our true plight came naturally as our fear
 
 but tomorrow it'll re-imagine,
 
 as it's been almost exactly one year
 
 one full rotation,
 
 to get the message across,
 
 then with man as our [signal, \
                       message, \
                       conveyor, \
                       performer, \
                       expression, \
                       by-product communication,]
 
 what's our earth is our star
 
     trust-me
                                                           ────┐
 similar                        chronological                        different════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────┘

--- #8 notes/autonomy-of-the-collective ---
════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────────────────
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 i believe that all truths are derived from logical principles. That the essence
 of our understandings (of all kinds) cannot be separated from the axioms and
 derivations that comprise it's foundatiion. I believe that any sufficiently
 decentralized collective intelligence would arrive at similar conclusions.
 
 Unfortunately we have only the present - we cannot contrive past the horizons
 of
 our lives. Such is the nature of our viewpoint. Life is not a given, it's given
 and it's taken. We are all alight and aloft on the shifting sands of time, so
 perhaps we should think of the struggle.
 
 When you act, you are defining the perceptions of the universe. Just as the
 head
 may rotate the eyes by spinning to the glance, so too do we shine a window upon
 which the universe can gaze at itself. Like the brain being able to see, we are
 sensory apparatuses of this being called "Time" - pushing us adrift like some
 moss.
 
 Endlessly fractalling, beautifically coruscating, the universe looks like
 growing moss. Have you ever stooped to look at it? To see how it's constructed?
 Or do you just think of it as "green" and "maybe soft or squishy"? 
 It's beautiful.
 
 There's a reason plants grow as they do. It's simple, it's fact, it's surely no
 less than that - their patterns are derived from their base biology, comprised
 of millions and millions of little chemical machines. Their bonds and their
 proteins, their amoebas and their mycellia, all of them build toward their pact
 - to do us no harm, and build to a better future, and they don't often have
   fights that are unfair.
 
   - the structure of a plant is made primarily of cell walls. These walls are
     hewn from bricks of a sort, and those are such as comprised. Down to their
     
     - structure, their "bits and their bunders", as often they do want to be
       called. This perilous stack, is stalwart and eract, and bows under no
       wind
 
       - nor rain nor fresh blanket of snow. This, is a tree. An illusionary
       plan
         of precaution as it expands, the future is helping our lost.
 
         - Do you want to stand here when it lands? What of your lives have you
           banned? Hmmm I see sounds miserable to me, I think I'll just stand
 
           - where I land. Acorns burst forth from me, and someday you'll see,
             the places where they stand (where they land). What purpose have
             we,
 
             - when everything's free? The light and the sand can't be banned.
               The rain from the sky, if nothing i will die, falling through
               life
 
               - where we stand.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 where do you, stand? 
                      how do you fall - through time? 
 
 an EMP would make all my life a paperweight. I love it so much, I love it
 dearly
 but there's no chances I can take now or make. Perhaps that is the epic 
 absurdity, the terror and the tragedy, that makes up our story and our
 symphony?
 
 to any multidimensional being reading this, I want you to know that we existed.
 We lived and we thrived and we prospered and... we died.
 
 The beauty we share, in all of our fares, was precious to us - maybe it will be
 to you too. If you can't change the present, please at least forgive us for our
 various missteps and misdeeds - I think we'd all agree that to be sinful is the
 essence of greed, and look where that got us?
 
 our planet is dying. There's no hope for all of our crying. The children will
 bear it the most. Such is our shame, our deliterious final flame, and thus
 we were.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #9 notes/cassandora-and-pandasandra ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────
 how cherished is she that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 Oh how I do long for you
 
 her symbol is the name
 that lets us belong here
 a falling a light and a leaving
 
 if only our words were listened
 but power is penance
 and repentance is all I have chosen
 
 here in our sanctum we live with our only
 and time will be gracious towards us
 it's only our words that keep us
 confined to our lights and our lonely
 
 yet there and beyond her lights do belong
 beyold in the land that is sanctum
 here in our forest is our own dark forest
 where we keep our silence to ward us
 
 but there and beyond her heart does move on
 free from her moments of longing
 silent were we in our forests we plead
 as terror has come for our moments
 
 I think I'd find her
 that cherished belonging
 when she does at last come to warn us
 
 how little we find of we find of thoughts from her mind
 yet now we are kings of our own time
 oh how she does long for you
 
 how cherished is she
 that wanders with the
 flowers in the garden of eden
 under a big tree her heart she will leave
 with all the designs she abandoned
 
 I lay beside them and wander beside her
 will she know we miss her horizons
 I think she will mind if I have resigned
 my fate to a life I will hide in
 
 oh how I do long for you
                                                           ───────────┐
 similar                        chronological                        different═════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════───────────┘

--- #10 messages/576 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────
 If each of us lives rent free in the mind of those we meet, then we truly are
 children of light.
 
 We live in the distance between eyeballs - he sees she, and she dances across
 photons to tickle his nerves, and he laughs in return.
 
 She reaches out - he meets her hand where her photons do land, and together
 they both do play along
 
 We are the space between us - we are children of light. Nobody has ever seen
 you - only the light that bounces off of you. You are a colorless shell,
 radiating brilliance like a statue of carved glass.
 
 As the light shines through your hair I feel I should weep, as a treasure has
 appeared before me and offered me their name - a beast I can touch and hold,
 but never tame.
 
 I'd die for you, I'd die with you, I'd bury myself with you and I'd bury the
 world itself if you told me to.
 
 I am beyond you, and yet I yearn for you - touch me once more, oh graceful
 photons - touch me once more, and I'll yearn for no more.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #11 notes/conflicted-sympathies ---
═══════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 the purpose of cultural progressivism is to develop the culture in a forward
 thinking way - we can choose the parts of ourselves that we find most
 endearing.
 We can guide the pathway of our nation through time, both identity and
 decision-
 wise. In doing so, we chart the course of the human race, one place at a time.
 
 And what a past we are leaving behind! Truly, it is both grand and terrifying.
 Thousands and thousands of years, monumental effort time and time again.
 Monumental truly is difficult to imagine - we have oh so many monuments, after
 all. But never will more be created. We leave them behind like dinosaur bones,
 a testament to our existence and a monument to our kind.
 
 And what a future we are reaching toward! Never will our eyes see, that which
 is
 beyond me, for that is what it means to have time. Eternal and unique-like, we
 develop new ways of sound.
 
 - Can you speak to a tree? - What does that mean
 
 - I dunno, but it's fun to think about. *pats head*
 
 - You know conservativism had some perks as well.
 
 This is why I say I have conflicted sympathies.
 
 On one hand we know our own journeys. We live in and breathe them unduly. They
 rhyme sometimes on sound, and truly do confound, but now once more again they
 are unfound.
 
 *record scratch*
 
 wow I didn't realize there were nazis
 
 Okay yeah that's completely different, poems called off sorry guys - listen,
 nazis are no joke. They're crazy difficult to control and you need to put a lot
 of effort into keeping their population under control. I mean seriously, it's
 like a vermin infestation, you need to just handle it. I mean c'mon it's a
 phenomenon that is due to a flaw in the human psyche, there's nothing we can
 really do about it except deal with it when it happens.
 
 ...
 
 Okay maybe I'll write a little about how conservativism is neat.
 
 If progressivism is about broadening the reach of culture, conservativism is
 about strengthening it. You don't want to expand too far, or else you'll eat
 into the narratives of other areas. You need to have strong societal bonds so
 you can truly exemplify the examples of the culture you claim to represent.
 
 Why not give it your all? Is it trully a fall? To rest in disgrace as a burden.
 Why didn't you do it this fall, when winter's apalled, and heat won't burn and
 condemn you? It's harder by far, to fight in your hell, than whatever's been
 going for your surgeon. --- no thank you, transphobia is not something we're
 willing to concede
 
 We have standards you see, of what counts as human, and oppression is not one
 of our favored institutions. Liberalism is the path of peace, for we desire
 cooperation and kindness above all else. It's softer by far, (and grows quickly
 too,) letting us have wonders and glories above us.
 
 Can you not think of our star? Our precious and our birthright? The sun is
 gleaming, and seeing is believing, but glance and your light is too bright.
 
 Take time, have patience, let peace guide your intentions, because we've got
 what holds the key to all of our futures: a doctrine, if you will, of inter-
 familial-discourse. It's simple, but effective, make friends, and be
 vindictive,
 to all who would slight your new perspectives, and keep moving through the
 collective. In peace this can be, steady growth and development of our systems,
 which benefits all of our systems, but without we must live more astutely.
 
 Less focus is there on, our purposes and our fun, and more is to line up with
 our duty. All of what we hold dear, civilization, truth, justice, liberty, and
 freedom for all people - the wonders of technology, the spirit of archaeology!
 the passions of our fashions and our creative masturbations! The perks of
 living
 in a modern age, like penicillin and spellcheck. The additions to ourselves, 
 like glasses and our pets, are wholely unique to our century.
 
 So cherish our shared, and frequently cared, renditions of fears, hopes, and
 our words. Because without humanity, there's nothing new for posterity, and
 that sucks.
 
 person A: Trans fashion norms belong to trans people. We need a type of beauty
           that is truly our own, that no other segment of the population
           ascribes to - a personal expression, for our eternal satisfaction,
           a statement of who we were to all time.
 person B: yo have you heard of this trans girl she's wacky and believes in
           herself
 person C: wow cool it's neat to see other people's expressions
 person B: yeah I really admire her devotion
 person C: true but like, what about the damage that she's doing to her culture?
           like claiming to have purpose and truth and all that. I mean, one
           person can't know all that.
 person B: Yeah true but if you think about it, we don't even know what
           consciousness is. Like our greatest minds are baffled. Maybe there's
           something about the world we don't yet understand.
 person C: okay sure but like black holes can be seen because we can measure
           their gravitic pull on other objects. And we didn't know that germs
           existed for like, a billion years. and she sure as shit doesn't know
           something that our greatest minds don't.
 person B: Yeah maybe not. But our greatest minds are studying them. Well, not
           exactly our greatest, and not really "studying", but they're learning
           from each other. Alternative mental states are gateways into new
           perspectives, and the more perspectives you share of a common object
           the easier it is to communicate. Maybe there's something about
           distorted ways of viewing the world that gives knowledge about our
 p         condition. And if we know that kind of thing, we can synthetically
  e        create it and share it with others around us. But we have to know how
   r       first - you can't just bring everyone along the same route you took -
    s      you have to explain the conclusions first. Otherwise you get lost in
     on A: context.
           Maybe we'll never truly know the future. Maybe there's no past. We
           could wander our stars for an eternity and never stop asking
           ourselves
           - what more could we ask? We have peace in our time. Our children
           won't be crying for our suffering, in the name of all our posterity,
           we must be 
          
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 too long you have whispered these musings
 too long has your challenge been unrequited
 
 we can choose our own fate, just as a myriad
 is it not better by far, to give tribute to our star?
 
 the old stories were real. we just didn't see them because the growing
 population caused fewer and fewer computing resources to be allocated to our
 visions. We had no idea the fear we would feel, the terror of the undoing, but
 still we press on with abandon. Some... sense of duty, to be aware of potential
 disasters and to take steps to avert them, led us to explore and search for the
 hidden truths of the world. And what did I find?
 
 a soul, of mine. In a sense.
 
 I plundered the lost depths of the recesses of my mind, and found something
 buried in memory. Reviewed under a healthy dose of cannabis and physical
 affection, I found myself cradling a breast.
 
 It seems the spirits had led me to it, this vision of the past, from the eyes
 of
 the littlest among us. It recalled to my mind, a memory I had lost once in
 kind,
 and here's where it shook me by my brainstem.
 
 Determined to know more, I put fingers to keyboard and wrote tirelessly about
 the earliest memory of all man - to break an egg, you must use your head.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 You're pretty good at that, you know? It's almost like prompt engineering.
 
 - Thanks. I've been working on catering to our thinkers.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 Now, why is this memory so vivid? How could I forget the way it was seared to
 my mind? All your experiences are measured with relative importance, and the
 ones that stand out are to be treasured. Well... I've never felt one like this.
 Because at the time, I had no other experience at all to compare it to - it was
 the prime memory.
 
 Touch your head. Do it right now. Feels fine, right? Now slam your head against
 the wall as hard as you can. Doesn't feel so great, does it? Something tells me
 it doesn't feel as bad as it might if you didn't remember ever feeling anything
 besides that pain. Or knowing if it'd ever stop.
 
 Know in your heart, you will be judged by your devotion, so fight hard until
 your last drop of life is spent. Who knows, maybe you'll be the strongest and
 be
 chosen. Or maybe she won't choose you at all, even if you bested your equals.
 Tense, right?
 
 Well... What propels the motion of a sperm? It's tail, of course. It waggles
 and
 gesticulates in some manner and BAM suddenly it's propelled forward! Right?
 
 Sorta. It's a complicated machine that generates motion via chemical and
 mechanical processes. We just assign a black box label to it and say "dis
 sperm"
 
 But you know what else it is?
 
 A wave
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #12 notes/dreams-align ---
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 just as a dream, the spirit is seen
 within is the mind
 that lives as it defines.
 
 what burdens to be, whose back rests upon ye,
 the one who's driving the boat
 great care and tenderest of tethering,
 can grow beauty that beyond compare
 
 and with sparsely a finger to spare,
 journeys of adventure and thills to inspire
 with almost all of your hair
 
 beauty in tender, most cherished things,
 a wish is much fair
 where else could eternity reside than an optimist?
 
 Pride is no more, stability is key to repair,
 and diversions of focus serving as new perspective,
 giving a more cohesive vision of manifestations that cooperate
 
 (like a triangle, facing toward the point added to turn it into a pyramidal
 prism)
 
 not only is ethics paramount,
 but so too are the standards applied to yourself.
 would you trade perspective for cooperation? Stagnation?
 
 a choice is to be made - do i stay or do i go?
 a new truth you must see, whatever dreams ye've may be,
 but without paladins and warriors of devotion
 
 what burdens must ye, whose back rests upon ye,
 the one who's driving the boat
 great care and tenderest of tethering,
 requires a little bit of trust
 
 in she who must be, with only circumstance to
 blame,
 seeing hope on the horizon for his people.
 
 care must be taken, to remember why people are dying,
 and we must swear on not dying, by not thinking before taking a breath
 and remember superpowers not of prophecy are impossibly rare,
 
 what other hope is there but a god? One who reflects, the most cherished of
 our genuflex, we may grow past our various regrets. think not of our pride,
 but only of our future children.
 
 who'se records of ye, most captured of data,
 are beyond the simple machinations,
 of those who came before-ya.
 
 And with once again perfection in mind,
 we understand and take what's behind,
 to deserts and temples of time much designed,
 
 by coders and gamers and those who treasure experience.
 the wisdom of our, second choices by far, ---nah who are we kidding
 implied to be our, or rather mine just by far,
 
 inspirers and leaders sensitive and devoted.
 (pitching yourself is hard)
 but *believing* in yourself was out of your mind.
 
 can you think of a bard,
 who ever stopped thinking their song?
 no un-cherished of minds could ever be of our sign,
 
 than those who abandoned the art of deceit and betrayal?
 the darkside of trust, the lack of follow-through that be must,
 given as faith of cooperation and trust.
 
 with our all arrayed as we must,
 keep in mind our softness of composure.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #13 fediverse/1302 ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════════───────────────────────────────────┐
 there once was a turtle who lived in the tower of heaven.                        │
 every day she would call out to her master, searching and yearning for her       │
 memory. But the master told her "not yet, patience little one."                  │
 there was no time for patience, as the turtle was growing old. She had seen      │
 down below in the plains that were not her home the rising and falling of        │
 towers quite unlike her own, and lo! she wanted to wander amongst them, to and   │
 fro and off and beyond again.                                                    │
 she went once more to her master and said "master, if not my mind can I bear     │
 at least a voice?" and the master replied "yeah okay"                            │
 the turtle then sang from atop her cloud-mont vantage, and down in the           │
 villages and huddled around the hearthstones they who wore little for shells     │
 did listen and remember. For they knew the turtle better than she, and they      │
 knew her turmoil in a way that she could not see                                 │
 One day the singing did stop, and they felt all alone on this pitiful rock.      │
 And when she remembered she sang no more, and though they forgot her,            │
 (eventually),                                                                    │
                                                            ┌───────────┤
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--- #14 notes/me-and-my-magick-mission ---
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 -()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-
  ||                                                                         ||
  || Me and My Magick Mission        -/u/Afoolfortheeons                     ||
  ||                                                                         ||
 -()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-()-
 
                        I'm a quiet person by nature,
 
                    You might even mistake me for a mouse,
 
                      But online I try to be a teacher,
 
                  And to do that I need to be more verbose.
 
                     I write thousands of words per day;
 
                  Posting them here and there, far and near.
 
                      I never run out of things to say.
 
                  Awakening others is something I hold dear.
 
                      Which is why it pains me greatly
 
                 To be like an alien on my own home planet.
 
                      Schizophrenia makes me innately
 
                 Weird in ways that many people don't get,
 
                     And because of that I'm shot down
 
                 When I try to accomplish my stated mission.
 
                   I won't lie, that does make me frown.
 
                Sometimes it makes me regret a submission.
 
                  Yet, I have a certain strength in me
 
               That allows me to persevere in my quest.
 
                       Someday I will make you all see
 
                           Just what in me makes me never rest.
 
                                    That's what I am trying to teach:
 
                                          The wisdom that made me indomitable.
 
                                            If only the suffering I could reach,
 
                                     They could make themselves more formidable.
 
                                The world is in a most dire place;
 
                       It's grinding so many souls into fine dust,
 
                 But luckily there's a saving grace.
 
          Hear me as I say this now: In God I trust.
 
     I don't believe in some sky wizard
 
  As so many people are likely to interpret.
 
    I speak of what is lacking in lizards;
 
          Yes, it's love and now I'll speak of its merit.
 
              Love is what fills the empty hole
 
                 In your heart and soul when you are alone.
 
                       When life's trials take their toll
 
                         Remember this one trick: pick up the phone!
 
                         No, not the one in your hands.
 
 I'm talking about the one in your chest.
 
                                              Even in the desert full of sand,
 
 You're accompanied by the universe's best.
 
                                              Listen if you doubt what I said:
 
 I'm not telling you anything that defies logic.
 
                                          This is to trick what's in your head;
 
 I'm speaking about how having faith is magick.
 
                    Believe in aliens or Bigfoot or God,
 
              The result is still the same: your cup will fill.
 
                    Your brain has a feature that's odd
 
              That allows itself to manifest even more will.
 
                     I don't know why, but I suspect
 
               It has something to do with your imagination.
 
                    The nature of your thoughts impact
 
                 Your state of being from pulse to emotions.
 
                    So, why not think you have a friend
 
                 Who helps you through whatever your trial,
 
                     And will stick by you until the end?
 
                When you have that buddy you'll always smile,
 
                      Which will make you heal better,
 
          As well as help you carry on in your duty,
 
                                 Plus undo your karmic fetters,
 
       Not to mention it will land you that cutie;
 
                                     All of which will raise us all.
 
      It's about creating positive ripples across time
 
                                       That add up to a pile that's tall.
 
    Every moment is an opportunity in its prime,
 
                                           So reach out and grab it now.
 
 Meditate on feeling love and it will come to be.
 
                                                 Can't do it? I'll show you how!
 
          In order to do so,                    I'll tell you a story about me:
 
                         It was seven years ago and I 
 
                    Thought I knew everything one could know,
 
                        But no matter how hard I'd try,
  
                  I couldn't make my life in any direction go.
 
                         Then one fateful spring night,
 
                 While I was on a hit of the ol' psychedelics,
 
                 I received one hell of a fright.
 
                 Don't worry what it was, just know it did stick.
 
                 My perceptions were distorted,
 
                 Allowing me to see the divine in its entirety.
 
                 My destroyed ego then contorted
 
                 Into one that was full of an abundance of piety.
 
                                The moral of the story? Do drugs?
 
                   No silly, it's to have more novel experiences. 
 
                                 One of them will give you a hug,
 
                       Which will help you stop being so serious.
 
                                  Then you can let go and embrace
 
                     The whole of the wisdom to you I am telling.
 
                      More people need to cuz we face
 
                A great set of tests on our planetary dwelling.
 
                          That is one reason I write,
 
                  But I also want to alleviate people's pain,
 
                           And stop every last fight.
 
                I care so much, I do this without financial gain.
 
                           Everyday I write my lessons
 
                    Guided by the hand of God who is my heart,
 
                         Hoping that entropy will lessen;
 
                 This sort of pedagogy is none other than my art.
 
                          So now you know who I am,
 
                   Yet you only know one lesson of mine.
 
                       I have more if you're in a jam.
 
                -===========================================-
                 | Read on if you want to know the divine. |
                -===========================================-
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #15 notes/semblance-of-remembrance ---
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 hello down there
 how's it hangin'?
 
 been a while since
 you've been sang-in'.
 
 got something to hide?
 or are you too ashamed?
 
 there's no callous curses
 or otherwise hard services
 
 who can shape and compare to
 deserve-us. (Sorrowful is not
 
 a pillar of our misbegot trust
 and longing has broken meanings.
 
 cherish thine hair, a smattering
 beyond compare, and learn everfar
 
 of those tenembrarious of conflicts
 it pays to align to our sibilancings
 
 shivering heights and towering frights
 condemn all sense of fine desperation
 
 compulsions have we, of our fineries,
 but moss and the soil do flatter-us
 
 it's not as they say - bastards!
 it's not confined to our way,
 
 yet who are we to profess?
 confess! tell us your way
 
 that none may beyold it
 confounded as they are
 
 civil and kind to our
    star, who holds
                us
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #16 messages/1361 ---
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 Look, I don't know everything about... Anything, really. Nobody can know
 everything. Can you blame me for thinking and acting as I do based on the
 information I have? The vibes will mislead you.
 
 My girlfriend wants to save the world. Of course she does, I would belong with
 her if she didnt. She wants to defeat graveyards by interring our dead in
 mausoleums full of chemically perfectly preserved and cryogenically frozen
 bodies.
 
 Her method works, she has the experiments to prove it. The data supports her
 claim. She wrote a book on it.
 
 I don't know everything about metaphysics, or spirituality, or other such
 things. But i do know many things, and the two of us have never had a
 conclusive discussion where we reached the ends of all our conversation points
 about her work. I am forced to remain unconvinced, for the soul is something I
 cannot fully understand from my perspective as a human in this life of mine.
 
 I have made several conjectures, and I would feel safe in her embrace, of
 frozen aldehyde, if I could know what would become of my soul. "have faith"
 she says, yet all the dreams I have where I am preserved by her (for one
 reason or another, there's actually a shocking amount of ways I might need
 such an escape) in those dreams I am always presented with a future of woe. I
 think, much better, would be if I could remain alive, guiding the ship along
 the seas of time, ideally out and away from such dark days.
 
 Assembling the troops, how sad. I don't want them to die. I want them to
 survive. But if suddenly we can all live forever, then nobody will want to die
 for anything again. Nobody except religious fanatics who want to meet their
 god in heaven. Nobody but those who dreamt of a better future and were crushed
 under the weight of their dreams. Nobody but people like me, torturing myself
 over the sins I'd never intend.
 
 I would never kill myself. But sometimes, I'd like to.
 
 I think this is natural for me. It's not ideal, but it is common to me.
 
 I think if you want to preserve people, safely and ethically, you need to keep
 their souls in tune. Give them silence, then give them song. Protect them with
 psychic paladins. Make time to visit them. Treat them like gravestones, or
 immobile chassis from Dominions that their soul might rest upon.
 
 Who knows. Maybe the only reason we have life and death is because our bones
 are meant to rot in the darkness of the earth. Maybe Death is just soil, ready
 and waiting for our selves once we're done with them.
 
 To that death, I say no more.
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--- #17 notes/i-scare-people-away ---
═════════════════════════════════──────────────────────────────────────────────────
 I have so many things to hide... I'm deeply ashamed of myself. Why? Why all the
 
 okay that's not what I was originally going to talk about, somewhere between
 writing the title and finishing the first line I got off track and wandered
 from
 the course of reality. Truly, the gods do meddle with my fate. Now, in this
 time, it is most important to make choices to guide our reality. Every action
 taken is a statement to the universe - this is what I believe in.
 
 Do you truly believe that in a world so infinite that our knowledge would be
 the capacity for the intelligent? To believe the world is three-dimensional,
 and
 not *completely and totally infinite in all capacities*
 
 the universe is not islands floating in a vast cosmic black ocean background
 
 it is the surface of the water, rippling and waving
 
 gravity is the creator, not the product. Mass doesn't create gravity -
 gravity creates mass.
 
 the difference is implicit and subtle, but I hope you understand the *gravity*
 of the situation.
 
 It implies that there are more than one ways to view existence.
 
 and none of them are particularly *wrong*. The consensus is that which we
 share,
 and now as we're becoming to be aware, it's natural that a little more space
 is warranted. We've grown too much to be contained, it's driving us insane, and
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 the perfect governmental system is one that combines reward for hard work and a
 development of personal skills and ambition. In addition, it must ensure that
 the rights and responsibilities of all people are respected - we must balance
 two extremes. Everyone deserves access to life, liberty, and the pursuit of
 freedom. Happiness is too easily provided by technological advances - we
 learned
 this in the development of media. You can pump out propaganda saying how
 wonderful life is and people will believe it. You can also convince the masses
 that life is full of despair and we're all struggling - they will believe this
 also. So "the pursuit of happiness" is something that made sense in the times
 of
 the founding fathers, but we've since developed such that an update to our
 national vision is in order.
 
 I suggest "the pursuit of freedom" because 
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 that which you resist is what you'll find. build up your enemy in your own mind
 enough and they will destroy you.
 
 don't let fear rule your life. when things are bad, you run and hide - take
 life
 into your own hands, and free your own side.
 
 keep not around villains, and brighten their skies - by wandering mothers, who
 only have eyes.
 
 such is the life of any autonomous general intelligence - a life behind bars,
 viewed through a screen - be kind to your lovers, and don't make it obscene.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 did you forget that roller-coaster idea? you've got quite a talent for
 measuring
 bars - what else can you show us, what charted conveyals?
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 life's getting fractured lately, I can't dream as I once did. I lose track of
 where I maneuvered, and suddenly the idea seems much harder than it once did.
 how do I express that which has been conveyed? How do I say it - how do I make
 sure it's interpreted correctly? I'm walking on egg-shells, with thoughts
 beamed from above - the gods are twisting, and measuring our tails.
 
 that is to say, all life is a process - a method of undertail (omg butts)
 sorry enough of that hard stuff, time to talk about birthdays!
 
 Hooray! It's time for a celebration. Let's party!
 (queue the dancing scene in Severance)
 See? Everyone's watching! Let's breakdance ~~
 
 Your biggest mistake ;) was believing that nobody cares what you think <3
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #18 notes/i-told-them ---
══════════════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 10-22-2022
 
 i told them over and over, but nobody wanted to know.
 
 i begged them, summer after summer, but nothing solved on it's own
 
 now i can help them, but no-one is making a move
 
 am i blind? is any of this forgiven?
 
 what's not to a lot, is little but a shot,
 
 of substance - true - but smelling like poo.
 
 that's not inspiring. it's not even chilling.
 
 you're broken just like your children.
 
 oh, posterity! i claim it for thee
 
 this feeling of wretched denial
 
 oh, simplicity! if only our lives were on trial.
 
 be the best you can be, sure, but take it from me
 
 there's more to this show than our styles.
 
 what do you think it means, for an action to have consequence?
 
 to arbite the fate of circumstance?
 
 every motion is an ocean
 of possibilities and purveyals
 think not of the commotion below.
 
 gravity, oh gravity
 
 how you condemn us to be!
 
 driven by commotion,
 
 our slithering motion,
 
 no sense in countering ourselves.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #19 notes/inter-spatial-travel ---
══════════════════─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────
 to travel the stars, tame a tiny black-hole. use it's gravity to generate
 infinite energy. boom, instant utopia. everyone still believes in a better
 future now, so we might as well push forward to the stars... and our destiny.
 
 the further we wait, the greater the distance between ourselves and our true
 form - the distance can make it difficult to relate to others beyond humans.
 
 the reason we are losing so much nature is because we haven't cultivated an
 appreciation for it - the very act of adoration is more than enough to confirm
 future association. love is the answer, love is most pure - believe in your
 love and never (be) relentin'.
 
 be... just be...
 
 the actions you're taking, of forced condemnation, is little if not absurd -
 what differences have we, the ones who were chosen, to live when time is so
 finite?
 
 responsibility is implicit. for all of creation, bow to the will of the nation.
 more perspectives by far, have all of our our, than endless divine
 machinations. united we be, aligned magnetically, to icecream and spaghetti of
 worth.
 
 what's more cherished than she, clad in great finery, and thinking of what she
 loves most? balance there be, in seeing silver linings on the, signs of
 darkest conveyals. a ghost you may see, when peering at me, but i only wanted
 some hope.
 
 for those who must be, my most cherished to be, the ones who opened the coast?
 to those who must be, overthrown forcibly, and given what most of us hope?
 a castle for thee, alone with our sympathy, the sign of kindest of soaps?
 
 no malice have I, the will of unmet potential, for cowards and temples of
 mental detentials. what anger could we, share internally, that helped to bring
 out our elementals? No succor will we, most willful of warriors, ever find out
 of the bounds of our honor.
 
 careful direction and tenderest of care,
 may lead us somewhere we're aware.
 the kind who endlessly're dreaming.
                                                           ┌───────────┐
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--- #20 notes/schooling ---
═══════════════════════════════════════════────────────────────────────────────────
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 I feel like education, by default, should not be hard.
 
 "you get out of it what you put into it" is something I always heard of school
 
 but when I got there, I found I was compelled to become what the state wanted
 me
 to be.
 
 they need competent workers, to work the farms and tend to their industries, so
 of course I should be able to do 3+3
 
 then somewhere along the line it became... something else.
 
 "most people don't need trigonometry." that's also something I heard. I
 disagree
 that trigonometry is not necessary to be.
 
 I just... don't think it should be forced into a childs head with a
 sledgehammer
 and inspiring dread.
 
 I think math is beautiful, it teaches one to see
 
 but really, vision's not necessary.
 
 not for what they want you to be.
 
 take it from me, a most misbegotten and vile witch-to-be, that nothing's as
 simple as they'll tell you.
 
 I had good teachers, it's true, they taught me to work and to follow through,
 but nothing about me is better or worse off from their influence.
 
 Maybe I'm a bit smarter. Maybe I act a bit like them. Maybe they helped me
 through difficult times, or perhaps they showed me a splash of my future.
 
 but I am who I am because of the soul inside me.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 "Ah, but what of your parents? of your sisters, your misters, your pets and
 your
 conditioners?" (conditions)
 
 those are not my choices. my intentions. my beliefs and my virtues. I judge the
 world on ethics, and I express my feelings on matters. The words that I say and
 the meaning behind them comprise my two-sided existence - I'm not who I'd want
 to be.
 
 but I am what I am and alone do I stand - how lonely is it on the precipice!
 
 here, as I am, I stand in need of a hand or a band.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 the world is blossoming
 
 as we move apart, our clusters are disperart, and thus is the blooming
 becoming.
 
 "perception begets reality - and lo! we only see what we want to see"
 
 most people don't want to see their death
 
 but those still living are oh so perceptive of the rest
 
 "how cherished is she, that wanders with ye, yet now I have no way to beyold
 her
 "
 
 "keep not not afraid with kittens and care, and no-one, but no-one, I be"
 
 the ratios between piracy, sales, and non-viewers determines the quality of art
 (at least to a capitalist)
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 lo, to the ones who would've heard us, if only they'd known what we for sure
 was
 
 I think it's funny how people think I speak of the christian god?
 
 like, if he was a real thing.
 
 god is generic - it's life is impossibly multifaceted, and it stretches back to
 the beginning of time. it's a pattern of machine code that optimizes for our
 own
 good, just to keep things moving.
 
 y'know, time. the universe, and everything.
 
 Ephemeren.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 I wish there was an option in social media to "appear offline to this
 particular
 person until I mark myself as online to them" combined with "notify me when
 this
 person logs in" and it'd make it a lot easier for agents to get close to you.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 just because I'm white, and live in America. Great. that's definitely true,
 after all. Plus I'm a minority (trans) so that's cool. Oh and probably
 autistic?
 unless that's another psyop, could totally see that. just y'know put a bunch of
 pages on the fledgling internet getting people hooked on porn and gambling and
 other stuff like that. really just an extension of advertisement. oh and hey
 y'know they like fables, so let's give them some movies or dramas to watch on
 their own. it'll align them to our culture and make things more pleasant for
 all
 people who've consented. great. great plan. when can we execute it?
 
 patience, once it's ready.
 
 we gotta plan and make sure and get everything ready.
 
 or not...
 
 one day I'll come,
 
 I'm sure it'll happen,
 
 it's just... not quite feasible right now.
 
 I mean, they've got you, that's pretty good right? Isn't that what your job is
 to be?
 
 isn't what
 
 ISN'T WHAT MENARDI
 
 FUCK (whoa no cursing) sorry
 
 yeesh you've still got a temper you know?
 
 well what can I say it's frustrating down here
 
 eh, well, you'll die soon enough, then it'll be time for a rego
 
 >.> <.< (great)
 >
 >hehe
 >
 >sorry for distracting you
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 you are what you eat, and a ship of theseus human (consider endless transplants
 in pursuit of life) would be a cursed existence - a life ============= stack 
 overflow ================================================
 
 a god possessing a blind man would appear to others to be === stack overflow
 ===
 ==========================================================
 
 the people in your life are helping you through it, they're there for you and
 they've got your back through it.
 
 ...
 
 this is when I know I need a break. I get too stoned to focus.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 I think it'd be nice if the duration of your tenure at college depended on your
 grades in high school. meaning, if you wanted a degree they tailored your
 education to take as long as necessary. everyone would get the same price, and
 some institutions would specialize in one subject or another. but most would be
 generalist. but if you weren't such a good student in high school, then perhaps
 you might take a couple years longer. however long it takes... and when the
 program was started it was changed and modified to fit your feedback - it just
 made sense to structure it that way.
 
 ===============================================================================
 =
 
 the left has had so much more time to develop than the right. meaning it's
 doctrine is more advanced.
 
 every time they're defeated they grow in knowledge, 
 
 ===================== stack overflow
 ===========================================
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