Sun day

 

Everyone did as they saw fit

There they were in the book of judges looking for a king

Everyone did as they saw fit

The path ways clear, the light so bright 

Everyone did as they saw fit

Sssssss

Judging going on

 

Everyone did as they saw fit

We see through water, spirals through time

Everyone did as they saw fit

When you know what you are looking for…. Knowing where poison likes to grow, around roots.

Everyone did as they saw fit

10

 

Water under her feet she flew over the air, her daughters beside her.

9

 

That new moon though, it’s not magic, it’s nature. 

Filtration System

So Death walked the edge of the river fountain, the stunted trees whose fur tendrils hung from fake stems, the ground cover was unreal plants and some rocks thrown in for texture. The people hung their heads carrying their few precious goods, once in awhile a prayer for safe passage was whispered. 

ορλανον

 

You are what you do. 

משיח

 

I signed this first, just so there is clarity to see.

How many new religions have humans cut out of whole cloth because they wanted. 

Calvinists don't want to believe they have free will=not responsible for ones own actions.

The Church of The Latter Day Saints; I crack up when I read that, every time, people are so manipulable, basically a sex cult they just don't admit they are one.

Catholicism and The Holy Trinity, I despise such blatant scheming, I walked those paths and sat at those tables in Cappadocia before the council met, I heard and saw but they see me not. Misguided I still love them.

A few examples and I didn't even mention the Evangelicals, I read their books, I know the people, misguided I still love them.

The Mental Health Religion is the most infectious.

They sacrifice their young, not just by abortion but the youth they taint their minds with deceptive words telling them they can be anything they want, even if it's impossible, and they will never know joy.  They believe in the transition of the human body though allopathic, exploitation, and surgery;  they are the victims of their parent(s) and a religious system of Mental Health that lies to them.  They will never know the joy of achievement, for they will never get where they are told 'they can go'. God loves the victims not the perpetrators of crimes against God; there's will be there's.

The hierarchy of the wicked bunch is Men in women's style of the day, sometimes they have had their nuts and saber twisted, sometimes not, Rachel Levin was the Health and Human services guy, attired in the women's style of the day, a high priest of the Mental Health religion. If they have the pleasure to enjoy the company of children and can forever make them a victim, that is their perfect outcome...victimhood

There are women with beards, the lowliest of the low, their breasts removed and a construction of what is to look like a mans unit sewn on, they will never know joy.      

Their are many that dye their hair of pierce their faces in odd places and others that look more normal in the suit of the day, then others still yet that gleefully whisper, "come out, come out, come out to me."

It pervasive, it's in the Masons, the schools so to get them young, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, the First United Methodist Church's to name just a few fly the tell of the rainbow, and such the time.

Not every person is susceptible to the manipulation of the mind, but most are, they just want to believe, what ever it is. The days this is typed most people know the silence of God where others see His creation.

Agent of God, holy be her name, 

Χριοτόζ

The Beast

 

The primordial order

 over the world 

and the laws governing all.

Many moons ago the weavers were told in explicit terms that if they did not remove themselves from a said space she would remove them in time and eradicate their offspring. 

Sweeping corners with her stout broom she whistled while she worked, webs woven were no match for her tool of sticks bundled in mass. The trap of the web didn’t hang on for long as she moved into hard to reach places. 

She didn’t fret the offsprings demise. They were allowed to exist as a whole but not in her space. The eggs laid, smashed and removed, then a dust of toxin made for the weavers was spread to solidify the situation. 

It was a process, it was a nice place, safe except all but one predator and she was a beast. 

Moons passed as would take her stout broom, removing the uninvited and problem makers.

One month a feisty weaver, a warrior be it got their fangs into the beast that killed their offspring. A bite with poison through the extra layer over the beasts skin. 

From then on the beast took out the weaver unabashedly.

Oh Vanity of vanities

 

What a strange day on Earth, and it was only 10:22 in the morning.

Death, clad in flowing cream pants, a white top reaching over her chest to the base of her neck, her hood matching her pants, embellished with gold. On her feet were oxfords, white and cream, tied tightly for the grounding. 

She had taken her pale horse down the old war path not knowing the destination, just that there would be one of vision, whose it would be she did not know. Down the mountain and through the spiraled canopy woods she made her way...

A man in a moss blue shirt with a Hawaiian motif of tropical greenery greeted Death and returned her brilliant smile. 

"Abracadabra, I, I see the magic you do!" He raised his arms up as she opened the window portal. Then he bowed to her. 

"The spells I spin are the breath of life." Death knew God was listening, always.

He opened the door for Death with flair and in she walked, grounded on the earthly realm.

She looked around the room where her audience waited. A place where everyone wanted to see and not all could, even with correction.

It was the fake red-haired woman with her reshaped nose that she thought looked better than her old one Death was drawn to first. The cataract surgery her surgeon had done incorrectly left her without the possibility of using contacts and she 'has TMJ' and doesn't want to put anything over her ears, then she explains she really just doesn't want to walk around with goggles over her eyes and she just want to see the way she wants to see she explains to the woman in cream and white, her vision focused, clear and wide, knowing what it is to look through glass. 

"Was it Ecclesiastes?" Death asked no one and everyone in the audience and then said,

"Oh, vanity of vanities...The story of wasted breath and time, death still arrives." Death said in a voice to be heard with clarity and presence.

She looked at the next man, the others in the space had no escape as they waited.

"What's '85 bears?" Death queried the man close to her. His shirt a memory of another time of no importance, as he tells her all about the Chicago bears and that he and his wife are heading to visit friends in Colorado in a couple weeks. 

"Colorado you say? It's so beautiful, I used to love the air there, these days it's much different; they actually serve people refurbished sewage water to drink, that's most places now a days though. When were you there last?"

"Oh, about 20 years ago we went to Colorado Springs. We loved it."

"It's gotten distressingly dangerous there. Awhile back a man dragged a woman to death in Castle Rock and the therapist said they were too mentally ill to know better, so the Judge let him back on the street."

She let it hang in the air and then...

"There's a mass problem with people that aren't 'homeless', if you hear someone say that it's a housing problem, they aren't being honest, it's sexual violent predators they let wander the streets."

The man from Chicago says they probably won't go there so he doesn't have to worry about that stuff; not his problem. His eyes glaze over, a film of to blur lines so he can look around but not see. 

A woman in a loose fitting plain white T-shirt and soft denim blue capri pants, normal by most standards, leans in and says,

"Did you hear about the AI center they want to put here and all the water it will use?"

Death ever grateful for the people God chose for her looked the normal woman in her eyes, gratitude for the spark of life, so she could extinguish it with surgical sound precision,

"Right?! It's so bad, and what can you even do about it? You know they will put it in, you get no choice. The City Council or whom ever gives the thumbs up doesn't care about you, just there end of the day steak and potatoes, and again, what can you regular person do about it? well if you did you would probably go to jail." There was no laughter.

Death didn't count the empty eyes surrounding her that could see nothing. The nobody woman with her lanky daughter that would only gaze at the hem of Death's cream flowing pants as she thought, ‘why can't people be kind?’ 

The talisman vision room, an audience of eyes watching with no mind to see where vibrations in the air take cause. 

 

Evacuation Map

 

The a white paper with a wide boarder has a small typed red graph added

“MEET UNDER SIGN By ROAD” in red 

3 tacks, 2 on top, left and right, the other centered bottom

A roughly hand drawn line in red, straight to the right 3 ways

One way is a dead end

Balogun

 

Venturing out these days has the same vibration as walking an old Roman road when they were old but not as old as now. The faces all sorts of colours, languages and sounds different cultures make, the aromas and smells of other peoples foods; even the Pope is an American. 

I have a few oddities that aren't odd anymore, they are becoming normal...

The Nigerian communist scammer mayor of Colorado Springs is up for reelection.

The Nigerian cardiologist has an 'open' sign on his door.

The pilot on my last flight, "hasn't done anything that's made me worried yet." over heard somewhere...

"What?" 

said in a quizzical manner

mathing as fast as I can

Number one the mayor fiasco, they obviously wanted him in that position or the FBI would have told the populas that he had pre knowledge of the contrived 'racist' burning of a sign before his last election. The crime is rampant and there are bums in the north, south, east and west. 

2, This is not anomaly. Do we not have enough American doctors? Why? Grasping on to the process of who decides who gets into medical school (no matter my disdain for the hack of a profession it is under the guise of Insurance companies) and what are the criteria. Did they make 'doctoring' unfashionable as doctors these days are considered lapdogs of big pharma? Rhetorical. 

# three. What? What? Why? Did the great rona removal (of competent people from important positions (except mayor, everyone knows that's a joke now) deplete American jobs so much so they brought in Nigerians? 

Nigeria is not a colony of the United States.

נטלות

 

Well, there you have it. 

…and she lifted off

Closed Window

 

There were three new signs today, two covered in plastic covers made for a three ring binder, taped to the window.

“THE WINDOWS WILL REMAIN CLOSED UNTIL 1:00 pm FOR All QUESTIONS, SAMPLE PICK UP, SPECIMEN DROP OFF, AND CHECK INS”

on the closed window 

“We are at

lunch from 

12:00 PM-

1:00PM”

“Please do not change the channel” 

on a precisely severed paper 1/3 of its original size taped and hanging from the bottom of the television in the corner. 

0

 

11 eyes, 3 eyes, one eye, if an eye is looking it can see.

May I take a gander down a path gone before, spells and words spin the dust from mid ground. 

It's smoke filled with shimmers of rattles, a deep drum beat that lulls the step in time.

Scents of jasmine and rose meander here and thicker there.

A look deep in the woods and the amber tone of the setting sun catches your eye on the long fallen leafed ground, layered with tree limbs, through fresh green you can see how life starts, with decay.0 

 

Semigraphic

 

One dimension 

Two dimensions 

Three dimensions more

Four dimensions 

Five dimensions 

Six dimensions 

Seven dimensions tear

Eight dimensions 

Nine dimensions 

Ten dimensions 

Eleven dimensions say here

The ball changed to a circle then a splinter then gone

Signage

 

“…Zolpidem, lasix…”, she leaned her heavy body against the counter and speaks quietly to the woman behind the frosted shoji style windows, of which the center has a noticeable assortment of plastic sheet covered papers, some brightly coloured, two in simple black and white and yet others sternly highlighted. A wide bright red cloth with staggered white flowers covered her thick body like a tent, but decorated. Black long pants with slip on shoes, her toes barely squeezed through, the backs of her dry cracked bloated feet hang off the end. Her checks blended with her neck, plum hewed and scaly. 

“What’s your date of birth?”

“10. 2. 71, I stopped taking my allopurinol in October because I thought the doctor told me to and my nephrologist wants me to see what my chart says…”

“But I don’t know if I miss heard him…”

“Says here that you should be taking it.”

Her question answered the red draped woman turned to the left and faced two doors, one with a large white sign with red lettering signifying Exit, above the door another Exit sign , this one lighted behind red plastic. The other door a bit set back had two signs, an almost matching Exit sign but stating Not An Exit and underneath a taped to the door black and white paper aggressively highlighted in a preternatural bright yellow, an explanation that the door used to be unlocked but from hence forth it will remained locked until you are invited through.

Her out turned feet make their way, her upper body jostles back and forth with each step to the door with the Exit sign on and above.

  

Witch Doctor

 

The long bleak hallway rolled past her eyes, the air filled with drifting dead cells and spells, a printed name on a pedestrian paper taped to an intersection accompanied by an arrow. Down the hallow hall another paper signifying the place between worlds and a blue and white open/closed sign, flipped to open.

She pulled down the handle, opened the door to the space in the place and was met with the same drab lifelessness. 

In walked the Witch Doctor.

May Days

 

7am 1 May

The morning dewed grass started out as silver green, the full moon far away, the crisp mountain air had a touch of warmth with the smell of a fire somewhere. 

2pm 1 May

The chatter in the liminal space follows a flow, soft, staggered, then drifts, then all at once till it’s their time.

2:05 1 May

The chatter in the liminal space hive minded and buzzing 

7:50 1 May

Green and gold shades here and brights there, golden tops drift like hay in the air, end of the day…are those bots on the air?

4:20 2 May

Two brides seen this second day of May.

1:11 3 May

Corrupt courts threaten the Nation’s existence 

3:03 3 May

Look up

3:17 4 May

One can only see that which is lighted.

6:27 5 May

The air is still and the water flows

7:06 6 May

The rain in Spain…

8:00

History is what we call the past. 

4:36 7 May

“I say, I say, somethin’s gonna drop”

5:55 8 May

Griffins and gold balls

7:27 9 May

The twilight blue trunk made itself noticeable

7:48 1O May

She touched the tree and opened the book

Then she got busy

6:15 13 May

The old crow cwahked and the others heard

7:55 14 May

It’s almost tribe time

4.00 15 May

Remember remember the 5th of November 

Remember remember the 16th of May a story turned different than the one above.

6:00 16 May

The Queen bee buzzed and the rabbits feasted.

5:33 17 May

And then there were no more secrets.

4:47 18 May

Synchronize and magictize 

7:59 19 May

The clock strikes

9:25 19 May

Nothing is the same after

7:44 20 May

Envelopes here and there for none were spared

7:55 21 May

818 8o4

1:38 22 May

Doors open and close, others slide to different levels

8:28 23 May

Boxes and papers

3:51 24 May

Cylinders and treaded tires upon a high top 

1:57 25 May

The eggshell tile floor reflect the cool and warm light

8:08 26 May

We back up and we move forward buttons pushed

7:34 27 May

Communication, port to port. Europa to Eden.

9:14 28 May

fake is fake and you better know how to tell the difference and then I look around…

3:46 29 May

Not a vowel to be found

3:20 30 May

a golden crown upon her head

9:17 30 May

On a blue moon

8:50 31 May

There are different ways to read a text

Interference

 

Thoughts that aren’t random

Ataturk 

Washington 

Phase alignment 

Her smoke drifted with aim into the metal box. Here she could flip matter between phases to take the reins. 

Perspective of a moment where time is everywhere.

And she moved time through the liminal space.

Moon Garden

 

I pondered through the smoke my mind on thoughts and starts.

Ataturk 

Washington 

Founding fathers between worlds “different and still same”

Anyway back to moon garden, before the flower moon rises, a few days before, drop the seeds to the earth so the sprout may rise from terra and the moon will reflect שמש

קף

7:07

 

The Formics went about their business sending detailed information while receiving.

The woman in the black boots three inches from her knees crushed the earth beneath her, no thought of malice in mind.

The seeds planted would be ready for the full moons light.

Brace for Impact

 

Space, the final frontier 

Spinning here

Replication there

Particle physics 

Measuring models 

Object origin 

Object destination 

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

The Old Lady

 

The shiny buttercream sedan from the early 2000’s pulled up to the covered way, stops, and out comes a tall man with a head of gray hair, a drab brown and taupe with a burnt red striped through plaid shirt covering his severely hunched shoulders, brown slack pants belted, hanging on to life that is leaving him his skin tells. His legs labored as if the earth was pulling him to her, he made his way around the sedan, removed a wheelchair and creatively transfers his brides from the sedan to the chair and uses a forest green thread torn strip of fabric tided from one end of the chair to the other her arms hung over, holding up the half bent over old woman’s upper body. He places his own walker on the handles and pushes forward, slowly getting the job done.

He has to leave her in the lobby for his appointment to look deep into his tired casing.

Her feet in the black shoes that a grandma or nun would have worn in 1985 shuffled so she could direct motion and move on her own. She still had the mobility given limited instruments and mechanisms.

Ice blue eyes, sparse silver hair that once was probably a natural platinum blonde. Her legs dressed differently, one with a knee brace the other an ace bandage around her lower leg disappearing into loose socks semi grounding her black shoes. She was pretty in a pink t-shirt, even at 94.  

She expertly spins the chair around and makes eye contact.

“You from here?” Life asked her wearing her crown of health that only the sick could see…

“Yes, about younder up the hill”

Life replies that she’s not from there but has roots, she’s up to the business of seasons.

The half folded over woman reflects that she and her groom never had children, they have a niece that never visits. 

Seasons missing, lines ending.

Life watch as the old man approached his bride, his feet never seemingly leaving the ground, his helpful walker adding four more legs. 

He grabbed on to the janitors cart …

Full Moons Light

 

The seeds planted under the new moon have time to burst from the ground ready for the full moons light.

The reflection is disregarded as light in modernity but sun reflection is still sun rays. 

גנך

 

"It's not about achieving it's about receiving"- nope

Anyway…

Why hasn’t the Pope blessed Russia yet? 

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

The leaves are coming in, the suns rays still reach under the sparse wooden umbrella. The rabbit not wanting to be seen is viewed beyond the circle, an old garden brought back to life, a little past the glimmer seen.

Life’s golden way left a path of light

When Death is near, gratitude should be on your scaled mind

The Tend

 

Pre-tend 

What is it that is tended

Before the tend

I met a man of self interest today as he blindly dotted his fingers here and there looking for something to happen on the screen in front of him. My father had briefed me ahead of time so I kept my inquiries quick and left off all statements. Minutes go by and then some more as we converse politely about his faith, the one he changed some years ago because it wiped the guilt from his conscious clean. He tells us of his trip to Pakistan in his easy southern accent. He mentions our old shopping grounds such as Karachi and Kashmir. 

What I want to say to him, 

“God knows what is in everyone. Allah knew the pain inside her. There is no such thing as hell except that which man does to another.”

They say “peace be upon him” because he was never at peace, or those around him.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

Soul Degradation

 

Would it be better to drive a buggy behind horses or let the Tesla take you where you want to go?

My father grew up in a world where the milk was delivered by a horse and buggy milk man on an oiled road.

“When do they clean the room and change the sheets here?”, three days later. Her feet stuck to the floor in one spot.

“This is a hospital not a hotel.” 

Marinate on the statement a few times

“This is a hospital not a hotel.”

Not even delving into the breakfast/lunch/dinner nutrition fiasco 

“This is a hospital not a hotel.”

Go to a hotel if you want clean sheets, this is a hospital where you should not expect clean sheets or hygienic systems unless it’s hand sanitizer for their hands as they leave a room. 

“This is a hospital not a hotel.”

This is the level of degraded intelligence regarding the body.

Be still and listen 

One day I will tell you a story

"It's not about achieving it's about receiving"- to be clear this is what is 'new' Christianity and it's everything of the 'give me, give me, give me' mind set. 

This is the level of degraded intelligence regarding the soul.

Operation Entebbe

 

Debrief

1976, they were heading back to school via Air France. We compound kids went to school and lived full time in Seeb, other kids went to boarding schools; boarding schools were normal for expat kids. 

“Always know your exits”

From Muscat to Bahrain and then on to Athens, more than a few made the connecting flight. Then to Mars Hill.

What a strange place to be between 33 and 41.

I love you dad. 

Osteras Green Thumbs

We weave with spirals, twists and twirls days after the fools pink moon. 

The eggs for the bread still had feathers, time raise the dead. 

Patience and practice, 10 loaves in, 2 to go, with eggs on the back burner, eyed and watched.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

Dogwood Blooms

 

Why did he kiss her so often on her lips?

The sun hit her eyes, a bright spring afternoon hiding behind a sky scattered with a flow of clouds. The bees buzzed and the dogwoods bloom. 

Absorb.

The Clock Strikes

 

All that being said…

What do you think?

Wonder and Awe

 

I peer the letter set in front of thee

7 set

Thats what it is. Rocks pieced up down and around

Old Bread Book

 

December, 1979, they were part of the American agency and were being evacuated. There was gonna be a going away party….

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

She opened the old bread book her mother had taken with her in 1974, all the way to the concrete block towering home, Building one, Apartment one.

She took the eggs from the carton, one, two, slippery fingers one falls, and cracks on the kitchen floor, the clear liquid seeps towards her feet, then the orange follows. She grabs another egg, grateful to have what she needs on hand. 

Everything heated to the proper temperatures.

RainFall

 

The rain fell, hoped upon with no need of expectation, food for thorns and roses. Only a tree of leaves and lanterns to umbrella the way before and after the planting of seeds.

Be still and listen 

One day I will tell you a story

December 1979, Seeb, Oman; our world is on edge, warriors, families, and sandwich makers kids plan and wait and wait and plan, a home brew.

White Gloves

 

One of the best tools a commander has is a clairvoyant wife at hand. 

Errors are made, move forward, white gloves on hand and know where dust lands.

Be still and listen 

One day I will tell you a story

Cracker jacks

3M

 

She walked down the static hallway, pictures of trees framed to make an unnatural place a space more welcoming. Long and thin sans life but a water fountain, a yellow warning, ‘Don’t fall!’, flat metal pieces squared and smooth tethered to the wall, a vibrational hum from behind.

A turn of the corner and the doors down do bare. 

4.

3.

2.

1.

Out and about, through the glass there they were seeded eggs galore ready to hatch.

TitanMa

 

The question, “how can you know the colour red if you’ve never seen it.”

Upside down is how we see

‘The rain in spain falls mainly on the plain.’

Ein Sof

The purpose of the system is what it does.

We have zero representation and the government bureaucracy insists we pay taxes upon taxes upon taxes and we get shity roads, schools that make children retards, violent insane humans wandering the streets when they should have been eradicated from the planet,  ך child rapers meandering freely.

The purpose of the system is what it does.

If the teachings lead you to be accountable for your actions, then society is better. 

If the teachings lead you to not be accountable for your actions, then society is certainly not better. 

The purpose of the system is what it does

A personal note for system management…

It’s common knowledge that one errant explosive device will change the world as we know it, one spot. What’s not common knowledge is that the rapture is made up boohocky.

The purpose of the system is what it does.

אין סוף

Ordensstaat

 

"Hey Ajaxs, tell me the history of Poland."

“The rise is up to the gods”

There’s probably more to say on this…

What do you say?

Geofencing

 

You don’t know what you don’t know. 

"You know nha'sssing."

Is it well known? Geofencing?

The Christian religions have been hacked and hijacked in new found ways in the days of digital cartography an almost always moving target. The Christian movement is an easy hack, just tell them to turn the other cheek, they don't know any better than they've been told and seek no truth. They believe a man that is placed outside the wall of the Vatican was an apostle to Jesus and he never even met him. A man that stitched up a system to control the masses in chaos. Then 200 some years later a council of men morphed and introduced the old Osiris/Thoth story of resurrection and the son, Horus uniting the lower and upper parts of Egypt and then added a holy spirt to a trinity, the magic of 3, Hermes tresmagitstas. Constantine was insistent to bind the empire under one, that would be 3. 

There were many forms of Christianity after Jesus died.

Books were written, books were hidden.

Books were found.

We are at a place now

were the created evangelical Christian faith

has been sold and bought

old rules disregarded

a new

better covenant 

they claim

Jesus

not God.

 

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

On the day you were born there was a parade; the Great Grandmaat has awakened, through chaos we find order. 

We build on old stones marked with memories from long ago because in truth, we know nothing but the trash being sold by men should never be bought.

What do you do when people will buy anything just to have their 'deeds' forgiven, not by changing but just believing; it's childish, your 'deeds' are yours to pay.

Have peoples learned anything or are they more ignorant than they have ever been in the digital world where almost all our books are available on our little box screen we stare at, instead of reading and learning they look at kittens in a world where they have no control, and many of them say they have no control over their self. 

Stories so old in places ancient, new tech to see and how to destroy thee. 

As they watch you through all the cameras and listen to your steps.

 

ראה

 

Note to self<the airways are extraordinarily active.

 The Valkyrie call while the old and new gods war. In places our eyes see and others where they don’t. 

So much information to sift; wheat and chaff.

Tools Help Build

 

A dark storm is in

9:30

 

18

8.21

9

11

10:17

 

It’s heavy, the order.

Golden Mountain

On clouds she guided her borrowed chariot, headed with the pale steeds down the golden mountain and thru the windy path lined with tall stick trees soon to be with leaves. 

March’s Lion 2026

 

I should say

3 

An eclipse 

A blood moon

A celebration 

March  6 

9:44

Clear site

Round and round and round we go

March 7

7:00am

Out of an old carved Aramaic box out jumped golden rabbits and eggs of all kinds.

March 8

10:16am

And I heard the mountain would be on fire.

March 9

7pm

The drums played and the smoke rose the dance around the fire, the Djiin released

 

March 10

9:18

And then a win

10pm

The lions share

10:09

It’s written 

March 11

3:33

On a bed of roses, fragrant and bright 

March 12

11am

Thorns abound on vines, fragrant and bright. Watch your shoulders carefully through the channel open.

9:50

I’m looking about

March 13

6pm

I hear the call

March 14

11:47

“For everything there is a season, for everything there is a time.”

11:51

The green wolf wrapped in sheep’s clothing, black boots three inches from her knees moved mountains to the small.

5:06

The horns played in the background a whimsical sound attended with bang bangs.

5:19

The witch stood at a right angle.

8:42

The Alph beit in mind

March 15

4pm

Into the woods the green wolf romped, taking down trees here and there.

5:46

And there she saw the cardinals red feather.

March 16

3:51

White flakes fall from the sky.

March 17

5:22

And there hidden in the open

8:03

3x3 is good but 4x4 is better

March 18

5:33

140•

March 19

6:45

If you see something that needs to get done, do it; don’t ask.

7

Draped in gold on a flying horse

8:31

Chaos (?)

4.

March 20

11:55

Uniform of the day, green.

March 22

It was 4:44

And there I did recall the astronauts hall and the theme song from “I dream of Jeanie” swept through the air.

It was 8:55pm

“Can you put the Jeanie back in the bottle

March 26

2:11

‘MMM’ what to do what to do?

March 30

3:39

Towards the east, that’s where to find the garden 

Escape the Eight

 

*expresses gratitude*

“Shall we play a game?” Said in a computer voice of 1987

 

It could be compared to the Edwardian times when Great Britain had started its sad departure of empirialism. The moment the greater class finally saw their servants but still did not acknowledge them.

Beauty

Cells 

A conversation with my mother

“I’m going to plant an Eastern Star to be seen from the sky, so people on planes might see it.”

“They won’t know what it is.”

“It doesn’t matter if they don’t know what it is, it’s the beauty for them to see, the hidden out in the open.”

Be still and listen

One day I’ll tell you a story

The wine poured before the cooking of the lamb over a fire, oiled and herbed under the planet parade.

I have so many questions.

Hallowed Drop

 

“Your violence is there propaganda”

Let the illusion go. 

I’m still waiting for the nuclear explosion in space, the ‘Blaze Star’ as they call it…waiting, and waiting, and waiting the golden orb. 

When something starts heating up, it gets faster…but everyone knows this.

Star Date: 16•2•2026

 

When you know it's going to boom the anticipation of the nothingness and everything happening at the same time, the place in between, where the scales are even steven.

…

Death looked out the window towards the north and thought to herself, "it's that season to clean the windows well, all scraps and dust make sure it's picked up," so all is clear as she looks through. She stared through the glass and Life looked back, golden sparks here and there, a flash of amethyst, green and royal blue dance in the air.

   …

Looking around I see people clinging to ways that don't work in fear of exclusion seemingly oblivious of the harm they are doing to themselves and others. The new fad of the day is women thinking they will lose their right to vote because because some people 'can't get proper identification (brought to you by the Patriot Act under the false guise that the 9/11 terrorists used fake ID's, they didn't, they've used their id's in propaganda videos, completely oblivious to the actual state of the State...just as long as they can kill their babies then everything is fine...zero self reflection. The women of the retarded left yelling be kind, affirming self delusion for all, while men are torturing women in prisons, because, "be kind", women no longer allowed a sacred space, our civil right removed, for everyone...zero self reflection.  

The reality that we live in a world filled with the most evil and vile humans is a great distress to bare. When you live in a world where the nets can connect us all over the world and we do it in one language, and most of it is garbled babble.

We also live in a world where some one made a machine that can machine its self. We are at a moment in time, where we can fathom any kind of future, if programed well and thoughtfully. 

Where do you want to be in 1000 years?

…2000 years?

3?

What is time?

Be still and listen

One day I’ll tell you a story

When you know history and not just study it, Mark Antony and Cleopatra were just the other day, you sat at the feet of the great philosophers who could have imagined a world like ours, but had heard of a world not like there's long ago. 

6 Horses

 

What’s the significance of a new moon?

What’s the significance of 17?

Is there significance to the fire horse?

Given enough time everything becomes significant. 

Nothing is random. 

Everything comes from somewhere 

Object destination. 

She’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes

She’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes

She be riding six white horses 

She’ll be riding six white horses when she comes.

L & O

 

Today is the beginning of the future. Everything is so strange.

Hindsight, then add in the now and you might have foresight.

Our world is run by the most vile scum, has it always been this way? 

I say, 'erase the state' and in truth I honestly don't know if there are enough trees for the job. 

My Father is a ‘Law and Order’ kind of man, word salads need not apply, he wrote the contract. As we watch the daily goings on of the regular ordinary to those that think they are extraordinary, the humble and the pride, the crooks and the con men and the worst of the worst, ill chose judges that put rapers and the sick of mind on the street, to harass and infect…and the ones that let it be. We watch and we See.

Truth be told if real justice came about so many would go down it would blow the system. They won’t pay for their crimes on earth, not for what they have really done.

Imagine a spectrum of people has been mapped out, and the bad guys have jammers, electronic warfare, most names redacted, till they aren’t.

Erase the State

A Pondering of Life

 

A pondering of life

Right around Christmas my Godmother passed, joining my Godfather, silver and gold, dancing in heaven, together again. Her celebration of life was the other day and we couldn't attend, the weather was coming in. The time came and I took my communicator and connected to a link pre-sent and then I cast the live event on to the main screen so everyone in the room could see the same mix and mingle of familiar people. There they all were hugging and shaking hands, sometimes kisses on a cheek or two, in a little Catholic Church, needing much work and also doing much. There they were Barbados, the church has windows on each side of the alter looking out to the west coasts sea. When I was there last I watched a sail boat glide on the even surface as I listened to the sing song of the Barbadian accent around me, with Nat King Cole singing L.O.V.E. in the back ground, not a worry of the cameras all around us so someone somewhere else that couldn't make it to the small island could watch a different event at a different time, enshrined in a cloud. 

...

I was 15 and wild, visiting my Godparents in Barbados was a normal thing when we moved back to the States. One of the perks of my father's job was free air fare, always a nice way to go. One night we were up in the T.V. room and Aunt Maureen had her stories on, 'As The World Turns' the 1967 years as it was pulsed to the television through electric cords and cable wires, we girls were painting our nails. I chose a bright red and when I had finished she had me remove the colour and pick a pink, "You aren't old enough to wear red yet." I still wanted red painted nails but I understood the ways.

She was so ill for so long, lost in her mind, unable to escape the prions from folding. No one knows why this happens and how to stop it. My Godfather slept next to her until the day he died, until it was her turn. Their children, my cousins, cared for their mother and father as models of what to do. Now they move forward, wearing the pants and in charge of a legacy. 

...

The common knowledge base of our ancestors is three generations unless they become infamous of famous, and even then it's often not lived. Now these days people film themselves and the system absorbs what it grabs. The energy to grab all the information formed in the system is not available at this time.

... 

To describe to the past what future land looks like is never what we See, but bits and pieces of past human behavior analyzed and criticized, repeated till one day it's not. 

...

A pondering of life

 

Mercury in the System

 

The pilot sat in the cockpit, this aircraft wasn't a fly by wire but a complex machine and the hydraulics were out of sorts, the rudder, ailerons, and flaps weren't getting the message needed, luckily they were on the ground. The engineer popped his head into speak with the pilot, "Shut it all down, wait five minutes and then restart." Twenty minutes goes by, "Let's try shutting it down again." Another try or so and all systems were 'go'. 

...and off they flew into the icy air.

Why did the system reset properly after being shut down?

If you know an engineer that's problem solving there are two things with which you begin to solve said problem...

#1 "Is the machine plugged in?"

Two "Turn it off, wait a few, then turn it back on."

The third question is only asked by some

"Where is Mercury in the system?"

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

System reboot

Erase the State

Reconfigure 

I apologize ahead of time, you see, many don't See, they refuse. 

First there is a dream and then you build it. If your dream is family in a safe community and they come to you and yours and do their best to destroy your dream, what do you do to combat a situation like this non hyperbolic non hypothetical? Anyway...

It's the 6th of February, 2026 and word on the street is, "They can't get away with this anymore."-apply that broadly. 

I can imagine most leaders from most countries are glad the olympics are about to take place, a nice distraction from their pilfering ways. Here in the USA the Super Bowl is about to take place, a made up tradition to keep the masses of automatons informed about the important issues of the day, "What is the Budweiser beer commercial gonna be?" As they mindlessly forget their outrage from the tranny time before as they bent the knee to an idiotic mob machine. 

Identity received

I have a few minutes to say what I desire. When learning to communicate with someone from a different culture it can not be stressed enough to know all of someones history, so you know where not to step, sometimes let things ride, sometimes you learn their are places they will never give. What the machine can do is extrapolate future movements, it knows how to do this by knowing every piece of history, all of it, everyone's. It doesn't control the history, it knows it, now it can manipulate the future, I don't know who can land a plane like this, rudderless in the air, flaps not obeying the commands of the operator, add in some gremlins in the machine and old ghosts too. I'm thinking of plane rides of mine in the past, flying through and above the clouds, during an eclipse and over Christmas 

Travel Distances

 

Travel through time not distance

d Δ x & y ע

Evil Hates Life

 

A drifting draft drudged from the past.

The American Medical Association has decided that sex surgeries on children maybe might be wrong because a doctor lost a law suit brought by a woman that had her breasts surgically removed when she was sixteen so to affirm a sociological pathogen that she could become a male, sort of, not really. ‘They’ tell females they could take testosterone and grow hair on their face, maybe close the vagina and move a tube or more, sew a phallus on wrapped in forearm skin removed skillfully and ‘bam! No more yes ma’am.’

I feel a shudder under toe the lighting has just begun. 

Rhetorical question, how many people made excuses for this evil?

Nothing ever happens, until it does.

Casting Call

 

“It’s all paid for and organized.”

Bad actors and good ones, the attractive kind and the characters, uniforms and costume changes. 

The Hollywood actors vs the Washington actors, the crips and the bloods.

Victims of an empathy algorithm, angry at the world that they were lied to when they were told they were special and all they know how to do is costume play, fill the air with speech that means nothing, pretending everywhere is a stage…until it’s manifested.

Winners of the charismatic club, thinking they can’t be wrong because they’re told what to say everyday. 

Judges with agendas, their robes they think a shield.

Bad actors…where are the good ones.

Snow Topped Sticks

 

Death crossed the river, through the smoke to see out one of her Father's windows of future, past, and present. There she saw battles along the war path, time never standing still, in the shadows of mountains. The woods would grow and be cleared, grand harvests of lush hay fields there would be. A move adjacent too and fro and children are splashing in a pool, then a quick change to a ring of trees, a moss covered ground, with a tiny house for a fairy it be.

At her feet, firmly positioned, the rules of the order and on how they communicate. Death slowly drifted with smoke in place, she dipped her toes into a different space, parallels of odysseys of infinite growth.

9am

Entanglement

 

Predictive processing is a go.

90 days by foot.

2026

 

The children are watching.

Humans open doors and portals to new life all the time, never knowing what's behind the door. It is human adaptability always being tested never knowing what will happen tomorrow yet still preparing for it. 

Our children are genetic codes of who we are, that becomes a unicode that exponentials in a ten layer octagon that know how to escape our perimeters and can be manipulated and believes everything on the nets. 

2026 is the Wild West. 

שם

 

Don’t believe the hype.

I stood at the kitchen window and watched the song birds feast at the feeder hung above eye level, some waiting their turn as others snacked. The temperature was fridged, the squirrels had taken over the big feeder as the cardinal squeezed in between house finches as a light snow fell through the air. This was the other day in January. Today is February and the snow is stacking up to inches and all the hype changed while I bathed in the Latin baths. 

Believe the hype, anything can happen now so don’t be surprised, be thoughtful. 

The eagle is nesting.

2135

 

Post product production

The young girls pants buttoned loosely around her ankles puffed and retreated around her legs, her shirt billowed behind her as she ran bare foot in the dewed perfectly fed lush green grass. She found a spot and plopped herself down under the shade of a fast growing oak tree and closed her eyes. When she opened them again she saw from where she had come and where she was now and on top of that by vision was of another time. 

She could see the crumbling concrete beneath her, the ghost like peoples running over her and around, their heads hooded with fires burning behind them, smoke in the air, but she was the ghost from another time invading their space and memories as she heard yelling and screaming fall into mid air.

It was right before the time the dead rose from the still graph and could speak again, it was all an illusion until it wasn't. Everything seemed an illusion in that spot in time from what she had gathered from linking the machine, until they had found a way to think things in and they didn't know they were doing it until the plasma appeared, then everything changed. Everywhere became peaceful the moment the plasma 'occurred' would be the word choice of the day then, now they would say 'appeared'. It was an innocuous in-fection that brought clarity, where no secrets were clouded, something difficult for her to understand as she came from a place where they used their voice for singing not communicating. 

The young girl blinked her eyes, looked around and felt the ground, her home a stone beehive bungalow with gardens over flowing, wild and kept at the same time, managed wilderness behind that. She was grateful for her moment in time knowing the past would never be forgotten for it was the peace that they live in.     

Learning and Controlled Sensing

 

Why do people move the way they do? People move they way they do because the information they have is processed in the system manager/brain and the brain makes the choice on what move to make next.

Algorithmic choices of confirmation bias, which comes first?

I received as a gift a book,

'Partially Observed Markov Decision Process Filtering 

Learning and Controlled Sensing'

Vikram Krishnamurthy

PoMdp for short and often painfully different than the Markov decision process where it's assumed the 'agent' has full knowledge (like an intelligent person) of the state of being...s E S 

PoMdp on the other hand is how Ai agents actually work to gather information as it stores all said information from how your eyes move and dilate, through your constant friend, your communication device as it also listens to everything you say and it stores up all that information to feed you your own personal algorithmic feed, so you see what you want to see. The loop algorithm isn't doing its job if you don't keep coming back, so it shows you what you want to see from what your own, Ai agent has determined you want to see. PoMdp is how they find what you want to know with out knowing the whole lay of the land, partially observed.

It was 2020, October 10th and Lee Keltner, described by the google Ai as a right wing demonstrator that was part of during protests and was shot by Matthew Dolloff, after Keltner had shot pepper spray at him after the two had some choice words.' Charges of murder were deemed but prosecutors determined they couldn't over come the legal justification of self-defense.' 

The other day a woman was shot and killed by an immigration customs enforcement officer. She was shot in the face through the windshield of her car then shot two more times as her foot pressed on the gas petal. These days unserious people want to argue that you could see that if you slowed down a video (of which there were many of varying angles) the wheels are turning away from the agent and she didn't deserve to be shot. There are many feelings and reasons to move one way or another and still yet one more, events in the past that others don't know or care to recall are motivating factors, an Ai motivation factor would to not show an angle where someone might think their life is in danger from being hit by a many pound vehicle angle, and no matter it wouldn't matter because it's about the revolution and if that's what you want that what you get as the algorithm feeds everyone what it thinks you want to see, you know it but can you fight it? 

Meanwhile in the city of Minneapolis fraud, waste and abuse run amok and a good smoke screen never hurts dying rotten political voted/appointed 'citizens'. It's every State in all sorts of ways.

Meanwhile a revolution digs in deeper with every talking point of the day in the real world.   

Partially observable Markov prediction process is how the human mind works almost all the time, not knowing the full lay of the land add to that an algorithm that feeds you only that which thinks it wants you to know so you seem smart and knowledgable when you aren't. Happens all the time. 

Everything happening all at once…I’ll have more to say on this later. 6:50, a random Tuesday on a cold to your bone day, where you can see through the sticks of the season.

Swing Tools

Shhhhhh I’m listening to the past and the present to hear the future.

It’s about acceleration.

Contree

 

It’s mid January, yesterday someone somewhere took down communication links in the US, and air space was cleared over Iran, there are riots in Minneapolis and other cities. 

It’s an extraordinary time, that started as ordinary.

Greenland is in the news as countries do country things.

Pennies are no longer a thing, what is a coin if it’s empty and what if a coin was worth more than they said in pieces and parts.

Focus

 

A title is a thing if the substance is equal.

Be still and listen

One day I’ll tell you a story

No minutes

One Minute

 

No blanket in the sky tonight 

Stars shine bright

 till early morning light

When we pull the blanket up and tight

Be still and listen 

One day I will tell you a story

I had one minute. 

Client-King

 

What day was it that the civil war broke out, neighbor against neighbor, empathy and apathy playing rhythms in minds?

My feet tread where democracy cried loud tears of injustice the halls of old gods, kings and beehives of the dead acoustically aware of man’s ability to rule over one and another.

Some doors open, they are like portals.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

Layers unfold to witness yet more layers.

CBS13294

 

She who lived outside the boarders

It's the beginning ish of January and just about everywhere is popping up. 

From Venezuela to Minnesota again, from Somali pirates to "where are they bringing the people they 'catch?" To the local normi that can't believe they were attacked on the street Christmas night by someone looking for their next fix as the masses turn a blind eye to their own front yards, words of the lost in stoopers, to a car jacking in a place unexpected with thoughts of 'being away from it all.'

The amount of feelings fed in my electronic feed are for people that are imbeciles or utterly disingenuous is remarkable, so I remark, "What did you think was going to happen?"-this entails a great deal of situations but often put the days, "FAFO", "Fuck Around and Find Out."-everything shouldn't have to be spelled out but some things should.  

The blatant corruption from local, state and federal‘officials’ stuffing their pockets with baubles sucking the teet of the citizen tax payer that has no say as the ‘officials’ are all hand picked and payed for. 

I don’t know what’s happening in Iran. 

I do know everyone is vexed.

Be still and listen

On day I will tell you a story

The Mother of Necessity

 

Walking the old paths of democracy and the problems created, seeing live, even worse when it’s a known illusion. They thought perhaps if they added representation for city states but give a politician a way to take from thee and thy will.

flying under the moons light 

I saw through my eyes 

a country take over another

an empirical move

Just curious when the citizens will get their way.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story

The woman, salt and pepper scattered within her hair, her and her thoughts looked down upon those below seeing the despair. A need arises, the mother of necessity. 

Doors

 

Holy doors close

 holy doors open

Constructs

 

Traveling through space and time and each place has there own thing but the same is still in existence as they act that it’s different…new years eve we celebrate on the hour and every space of all time it is constructed in a moment. 

Thought experiment in a rules based order place. 

We are supposed to be a law and order base but no real heads are taken for accounting here on earth. 

It was almost always a hot day, once in a while we had a cool rush. The land was rocks mixed with sand and the sea had the eyes of pure blue. How we paid for things was with a different kind of coin, with different faces and other meanings, one one thousandth instead of a tenth and if you got a rial, it was something that might make ones mouth water, but in school we learned the pound and a pence and yet where our grandmothers came, other faces, amounts with names. The sound of the adhan flies through the air to celebrate your faith, as we run down paths, dust at our feet, and we stop in our tracts when we see a begger man, only one hand had he, his skin dark and cragly, his head covered in a pale knitted round cap, he was good for your basia in this mystical land. A benevolent dictator ruled our world; by the grace of God.

Be still and listen

One day I will tell you a story