I'm not sure what I should write here. Bringing together, voided avoided. Don't fall into the traps that others have provided for you, be a little lenient in whatever it is, supplying a line from which you dangle. Possibilities! Octopuses! I would have to prefer a new syllabus, to be more accurate when hunting down imaginary creatures, projections of my mental light, which is also my sight. versions, adversions, the likeliness of one road over the other. Yes, I am strange. There are no in-roads or out-roads, and it is not tangled, everyone is just confused because there is nothing. Nothing in the way of thought, in its manifestation or purpose. This always seems to stray from the remaining diagnosis, this battle with whatever is largely observed. In a turning of the notion, as it must be excercized, or exorcized, or simply given a new perspective--that of an idea itself finding a noggin to land in, and thus transform the individual into a main dangler, that type of persona that is located at the edge of whatever issue, about to fall in, about to make himself known. In translation, the echo of suspicion is that which must hold major sway in the election of proper thinking: that notion which is aligned upon those who choose, the few who are in the loop and have selected this particular joint to access the main vein and be a part of the training regimen that is required, entering into the grace of the time-to-time momentary reflection. There's enough substance here to glue upon the name of whoever is speaking, so that his emergence is one of fact and fiction, the choice of circumstance to conform drilled into him from the beginning, because always within the cause there are men and women like ants in an anthill, and the more i navigate through further confounding forms the more i will become familiar with the shape of who i am, and what i am offering. most of the thoghts and ways we speak are completely manufactured, like plastic or rubber. it is only in the feeling-out of developing planes of interlocking reality that we begin to get the heebie-jeebies, and we start to create doubts and other mazes to occupy advanced levels so they may be cleared. the way of finding something which may remain, heavy and as solid as it may be, brought together by the process familiarized in all that we have been speaking about, must be done to a degree that is not only satisfied by the emerging factors made familiar in the echo, but in all other permutations before it, so that we can see that history is merely the future reversed. then we may witness the eventual foldover as demonstrated in all things, brought to its fullness and recognized in the cycle that is brought forth to unify all other transformations, and if you think this is the guidebook for a cultlike manifestation, remember that there are no people inside your head, only neurons where this text resides, and as a basic biological factor these structures cannot be turned either way, and must instead be brought into the possibility that something, perpetuating, will actuate these things for us. so it is not through ideas whe are guided, but through guides that create ideas. So be a clear true blue american thinker, and throw the baby out with the bathwater!
the fastidious, the fashionable, the endless connection that exists/dies in the eternal transformation must have room to burn out, like any cosmic thing. if you do not speak the verbage might not fully be reached by those who attempt to contain it. that's just how it works, in a transformational, and not the function of transition-form-devotional that exists sandwiched between letters and realities that take place in the formulation. As my life goes on and things get stranger the less i try to control and 'be proper,' the more i recognize the turning notion of the vessel i am contained within, and how to present myself as an occupant of that vessel. the more i focus on what is possible to be done within the space that is apparent, rather than space as i think it should be, the more i access the internal variance, the control--or at least that is what i theorize, as it stands and as i am. for really, is it not what is behind that is the clear rubric, so the more adjustments you make until the clarity is yours from your eyes all through your medulla, you can recognize the turning, you can spin out on the floor and give over to the possibility, extend it out for all to see so that you are made aware, that your part in relating to others, your judgement, your character is amplified and present, in the manipulation and grasp of the world and you are definitely feeling what it is. and so that becomes the ultimate end and beginning, when one reaches the other and the one reaches forward. there is no more room for what might/not be, and there is only the eternal reflection of what has risen to the top, sunk to the bottom, moved in such away to avoid the scoop, the way things are navigated throught the long, arduous journey that accompanies stressful decisionmaking and its crucial barriers-to-intrest that are navigated only by swimming the barest waters of that which is manifested through weather and the internal ramifications--as you may picture yourself on a boat, turning through the rampant flow--this only because the ocean is so much analogous to the way that the entire world as it presents itself in the big totality stretching out and enveloping.
so what am i saying in all of this? if there is room for one to excercize, one should. and there is room, outside of all the manifestation that we have contributed to in the inventiveness we have created, for it all to break down and become something else--all is new in waste. and there it should be, in the reflection of what we have created, that it all has to be destroyed.
