The melancholy of a broken spirit
That shattered across the desolate space
Of bitterness and cruel hatred
Of the evil blood moon that howls
At the putrid air of degradation
The vile corruption of the black river Nile
The tainted Euphrates from pandemonic Eden
The fiery blaze of hell's return
The eyes of the devil's advocate
Piercing the shield of human dignity
Destroying all worth
Fouling all value
Devastating the land of grace, of bliss
Capped anxiety, hug me tight
Suffocate me in your sorrowful spite!
The death of the wretched is the wealth of the world. To keep upon the light is to burn the body into ashes. The unbroken chain of evil, released at the beginning, is nothing but a jail for the crudeness of life. The ability to do is the intuition to think of what would happen moments and millenia after. The propagation of action is a continuous flow of what has been and what could not be in the reference frame. The flow of time is the movement of the soul across the boundaries of physical and invisible, exerting upon the entropy of the universe a force that is opposite yet unequal. The fire which gives life to people is a power that drives perpetuity into place, moving the gears of luck, destiny, chance and probability. The world is full of what the mind can perceive, and this in itself is magic.
There is a death that kills the whole existence of what can exist, and it is that which consumes the desire of life for its perpetuation. The death resides in the gradual ceasing of the flame, which burns down into ashes and becomes the barren dust of chaos and nothingness. The inorganic world would continue to degrade without purpose and without essence, and total annihilation even of the reason to exist would happen. Thus there would be no world, no sky to look out upon the black empty space of negative identity...which would bring the catastrophe of the known universe. There would be a self-consuming event that crashes all matter into itself for the lack of repulsion between differences of identity, and matter disappears. There would be darkness. There would be chaos. There would be light.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Destruction
A million occurrences every second hit the history database. Billions of people, trillions of point of views, each moment reaps a multifaceted diamond of memory, bound to be kept or ignored 'til dusted. The jewel maker is unceasing, operative despite decay and entropy; in fact, both act as cogs for the perpetual motion machine of the ethereal verse. Yet this orrery is immaterial, lacking structure and tangibility; it is fluid. Thus the idiosyncratic vision shapes the machine itself, and the machine takes its own form. And every form of the billions of visionaries
Exists.
What is the purpose of the event maker? Or should it be the memory factory? Within the fabric of synthetic interactions lies the commanding official, the master to which history is a slave of. Whims of whimsical creatures, insights of the gifted, all occurrences become the sugar and spice of a melting pot of differences. Plurality of opinion carves the eternal space-time continuum, and the random probabilities create a balancing nature in the products. It is never random, however, as the human entity is but a singular organism. Thus cavities and protrusions give patterned sculptures, humanoid and eccentric, outstanding in its own sense.
And flawed, in a general sense.
Humaneness has always upheld unity despite diversity, the electric impulse among the sea of particles. It resists erosion, defies chaos and recreates the universe into the valid. It is, however, of a pooled consciousness with a common linkage and a shared administration. This creates a vacuum of vulnerability, as internal corruption could simply reverse its goals its goals without any of its parts noticing. The majority effect can allow error overrides, and in no time the essence of humanity can destroy itself.
Once destroyed, harmony is at last achieved.
Or is it?
Exists.
What is the purpose of the event maker? Or should it be the memory factory? Within the fabric of synthetic interactions lies the commanding official, the master to which history is a slave of. Whims of whimsical creatures, insights of the gifted, all occurrences become the sugar and spice of a melting pot of differences. Plurality of opinion carves the eternal space-time continuum, and the random probabilities create a balancing nature in the products. It is never random, however, as the human entity is but a singular organism. Thus cavities and protrusions give patterned sculptures, humanoid and eccentric, outstanding in its own sense.
And flawed, in a general sense.
Humaneness has always upheld unity despite diversity, the electric impulse among the sea of particles. It resists erosion, defies chaos and recreates the universe into the valid. It is, however, of a pooled consciousness with a common linkage and a shared administration. This creates a vacuum of vulnerability, as internal corruption could simply reverse its goals its goals without any of its parts noticing. The majority effect can allow error overrides, and in no time the essence of humanity can destroy itself.
Once destroyed, harmony is at last achieved.
Or is it?
Monday, August 3, 2009
Mood
Sunny, rainy, cloudy, windy; springy, fallen, wintry, sky; cool, fresh, breeze, water; green, mist, sunlight, life
Flapping, rustle, tweet, kapoosh; thudding, beat, drumming, roll; repeat, delete, parade, justify; tweak, flop, ding, bash
Water, cold, living, wood; soiled, rock, mossy, dew; concrete, dry, lighted, hot; furious, tired, walking, horn
Orchestrate, harmonize; twinkle, gaze; inspire, amaze; flow, spin, dance
Flapping, rustle, tweet, kapoosh; thudding, beat, drumming, roll; repeat, delete, parade, justify; tweak, flop, ding, bash
Water, cold, living, wood; soiled, rock, mossy, dew; concrete, dry, lighted, hot; furious, tired, walking, horn
Orchestrate, harmonize; twinkle, gaze; inspire, amaze; flow, spin, dance
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