WTM! TOF?

“Those that have an Ear, let them Hear!”

i find it curious, that when folks check in on you, they continue with wonder: “how have you been? what have you been up too? long time no talk too, what’s been happening?” however, those same people can’t / wouldn’t / haven’t – taken anytime to press play to engage in your latest creation.

🤔🧐🤨

if you want the message to relay; indeed all you need to do is press play and LISTEN! (i would really appreciate your feedback / criticisms especially if you make it through the whole thing!

this project was originally released 2 years ago as a written text, featuring 10 chapters with a lot of colorful poetry and allegory. i’ve done the difficult arrangement of writing, editing, and recording it all. There’s no ‘physical’ copy of this book yet because i really want folks to listen as opposed to flipping through the pages and missing something.

Typos notwithstanding, there’s a message! May you get through! Whether through the Angel (😇) or Angle (📐)

Blessings and thank you for everyone that has taken the time! This was done at no cost to you, but if you wish to give a love token and donation :

Cashapp : $gesturegreen

paypal: paradiseclarity@gmail.com

Zelle: jesterants@gmail.com

How To Sew A Button (part 4)

In the 4th episode of ‘How To Sew A ButtoN’, I’ll teach you how to sew a 4 hole button (again) with this being a series, keep in mind….it’ll get more random as it continues. I can only imagine what awaits us 36 episodes down the line…on the 40th episode! we shall see! Until then, stay in tuned here on my website for new upcoming additions and reflections. Welcome to any new viewer who have been peeping out my webpage. I hope to connect with more folks in the real, via algorithmic persuasion! Blessings, y’all ! ❤

4 4 4 /8/14/22

you can also keep up with the series here : https://bit.ly/3CfBGlX

QUEEN H Y P O T H E T I C A L

these two poems are collaborative efforts : the first portion was created by the one and only Sylina Black! she’s a favorite writer of mine not to mention – PERSON and best friend! she managed to come up with this in very little time. she stirred the motions in the little information I gave her outside of the title. It flowed and struck a match to the very fire I needed to bring out the rest. may you find something of merit and thought from it.

In a lone world
Where the whole world
Is not the sole world,
Queen Hypothetical reigns supreme.
A land where fantasy meets reality,
Queen Hypothetical is allowed to dream.
And in those dreams, creation fills a void otherwise unmet,
What if’s and possibilities run free, unrestricted, solely for the Queen, and yet,
In this lone world there lived a young duke ,
Who would not allow possibility to go unexplored.
He would not allow anyone to suffocate his dreams, no Queen nor King, Lady or Lord.
Day and night he’d dream, sharing his adventures with no one,
Fully aware of what the Queen had done.
Traipsing through the land that the Queen had called her own.
He found that in this land, the what if’s had only grown.
In love with the power of creation,
The ability to imagine if things happened only the way she’d seen,
Queen hypothetical outlawed exploration of the dream –
Barring her subjects from visiting.

– Sylina Denise

092820 QH — lashes as long as the century, some of them fell into the penitentiary!

for what is the worth of a memory, which longs to be retrieved?

the profoundness of that experience, is what causes lamentation to the bereaved !

her eye lashes were as long as the century!

jailing her hair cells into a penitentiary!

that’s a hunnit (not a hundred – a hunnit!) years – of lashes and flashes!

for, many of her hair strains , would often and randomly fall into her eye.

thereby, prompting her brain to spy.

for she needed to remove the burning itch inside.

she knew she had to enlarge her pupils far and wide!

she by blinking – always made sure her subjects never stopped thinking!

day by day – swaying throughout the Winter and May.

for every season, she remained with a reason.

Queen Hypothetical or King Heretical?

The measures of possibility drawn – excites the spawn to yawn.

when it comes to kings, queens, and everything in between – the state of royalty can begin to be seen:

indifference is now made ‘qualified’ by the subjugation of the rulers of this nation.

rulers which set measurements of potential realized fiction!

though the lines appear straight, the path of least resistance is not too shy from affliction.

a hypothetical equation? may fancy a decadent persuasion!

can one still crumble as the words falter and begin to mumble?

endless are the seas that begin with the question!

for the search is indeed dressed as ‘HYPE’ and the aesthetics of every queen, king, and everything in between is worn through every impression.

queen hypothetical makes expression, the lesson of any and every imagined possibility.

this may serve to remove us from the gaze of docility.

TO THE QUEST FOR THE GEMS

“FOLLOW THE GOLDEN LEAVES! FOR THE GOLDEN LEAVES WILL SHOW YOU WHERE TO GO.” in this case click the link below and watch this cartoon that I’ve been blessed to be a part of.

I’ve always wanted to be a part of a cartoon and this was manifested out of random collision. there’s something deeper brought out via cartoon animation which can’t be expressed through real life.

Our brains need to bend in wavy suggestive display. we are always better for it! think about how better you feel when watching cartoons? our memories are wavy and solidified by the morning suspense. I’ve been blessed to be a part of something so profound which brings to light much needed joy and enlightenment in such a time like this!

‘To The Quest For The Gems‘ was created by the talented artist and cartoonist Justin Macintosh and Jeremy Garner. I could tell you what it’s about but it’s only 16 minutes and 23 seconds – you can spare yourself some enlightenment and uplifting music to go alongside with the various messages told! I am very delighted to be given the invitation to lend my voice and passion to such a creation. This was once an idea. it had no form. no interaction. until the connection was made and we all used (digitally) tools built it up. All from across the world, by amazing people!

the 4 j’s united in harmony ! check out these talented artists and show support and love for the work they putting in.

https://tinyurl.com/rd2uhy4 – Justin Mcintosh
https://tinyurl.com/uwjmzw5 – Jeremy Garner
https://tinyurl.com/rm7p733 – Jess from Galactic Gangsters

A closer look into rhymes and funky magic can spin us into worlds not easily understood. If you want to gain understanding – fret not by following along with the hacks and hints found inside the symbols.

we can be full without having to empty ourselves of what we’ve eaten at the table of riddles and innuendo. find it clear in your dreams – it’ll make sense as it’s all written down!

DON’T RUSH

running?
if you are gonna run to get there: make sure you don’t rush. as to not flush your energy and your sound mind. think of staying hydrated, for you are using way more energy. you gonna need way more energy in return! make sure your muscles are not tense and your body is well exercised. stay in tune with what kind of shoes you are wearing, you don’t want to run on an empty soul.

walking?
if you are gonna walk to get there: make sure your comfortable. stride with a strut of direction. yield to the flow of traffic. walk rhymes with talk. these two things working together is what promotes a healthy slide. the slide can become more smooth when given bounce. before you know it, the walk and talk – becomes a dance.

dancing?
if you are gonna dance to get there: follow with the flow of the melody or get loose without a care to who or what is around. this may mean rubbernecking and eyes in influx…if you gonna step on some toes, you may get a biscuit and side piece of who knows?

whose in the better position to open the door? all of us. at any point in our search for meaning, some roads take longer and some mean more work and attention. when all is said and done – we’re all turning the knob. Some may break the door down all together without consideration of looking for the key.

YOU MAY GET SOME MONEY.

YOU MAY BE BLOWN UP.

YOU MAY MEET LUXURY.

THE DESIGN OF WHAT’S NEXT MEANS…

D O
N O T
R U S H

just blush.

kiss the s p a c e between white and plush.

don’t fuss.

argue not with a desire to win.

plant your seeds with a confident grin.

find the time.

for destiny awaits you even when your rhyme is broken.

lost visions but found dreams can still be your token.

Some Smiles

‪Some smiles light a fire that you didn’t know you had burning inside.

Those flames come to pull you from a place you can no longer hide.

The moment you came out to play – your spirit was instantly burned to ash.

You were not paying attention to the road, thus inevitably inviting a crash.

If only you had purchased insurance to save you from this COSTLY dread.

When looking for the needle, you brushed up against the soft thread.

so, no worries about the glass that has just fallen onto the hard surfaced floor.

Lightning travels faster than sound – the burst of surprise seems to always even the score.

You can arise out of the swampy gloom!

Or maybe stay in the dark corners and explore the haunted tomb?

“For as prismatic radiance walks up the stairs, to decorate a room loaded with white paint.

Think not of the colors which will remain or those that will taint.

The smile of this light redistributes energy, previously unbeknown to me.

For now the twinkle in your eyes has flourished the withering tree.

Forever I see, the reasons that smiles have come to be!

“For the smile of your love is guided by an abstract and randomized beat.
Now the stars can’t help but smile as your illumination has given them a front-row seat!”

Dedicated to all of those near and far who have recently given me another reason to smile. Some smiles travel miles in illuminating styles! 🙂

The Dawn of R.E.M

Dreams Reflect
The Activity
Found In Your
Waking Life
The Riddle is
Unlocked by
Connecting Those
Loose Dots
Scattered Throughout Your Daily Life
Don’t Be Afraid To Intend For A Dream
And To Write Down The Symbols Found
A dREaM Journal Is Your Secret Elixir

This video is about the power of dreams and what can be learned from them. There’s a lot of distractions but life can take a whole new meaning in a dREaM.

R = Rapid

E = Eye

M = Movement

The Qualified Sum

If you’re gonna play: Rock, Paper, Scissors with me – look directly into my eyes. Only look down when it’s time to decide who won. You’re cheating if you look at the hands the whole time, Don’t debate me – on this! 😀

Games like Rock, Paper, Scissors and Tic Tac Toe (X’s and O’s) are based on specific patterns. If you learn them, you’ll be able to win depending on if your opponent makes a mistake. Worst case scenario is that there would be a tie with no winners or losers. Yay!

I find games like this fun because with enough repetition – your subconscious catches on to how the player makes their move. We don’t always win at this but if you aren’t aware of the algorithm – you’ll find yourself losing more and more. This doesn’t always favor your ego, especially if you’re used to winning.

Some of us are so bitter when it comes to failing we revise history to our advantage. *coughs – white people* It makes absolutely no sense to do this. It just makes you a sore loser. White Supremacists, Neo-Nazis, and Confederate loving Americans are PRIME at doing this. They don’t wanna look at history for what it is but rather what they want to make out of it.

Times like now are interesting because they force us to examine the ways we cheat at excusing our behavior. We’re afraid of owning up to some of our own biases if they mean proving us wrong.

Ever caught yourself in a: “NOT ALL OF US” KIND OF MOMENT?

It should be painfully obvious that ‘NOT ALL ‘ is dumped in when talking about a group of people. I’ve been seeing a lot of statements like #MenAreTrash – previously, I would get on the defense whenever I’d hear a generality like that because ‘HEY NOT ALL MEN ARE TRASH’.

Now, I knew I had trash ways as a man and I didn’t want to look at them because ‘We all fall short’ but this isn’t the way to go about it. If you don’t fit in the scenario than keep it moving.

Some are qualified in the variables made – if you don’t fit the shoe, don’t even try to wear it. Our egos can be big and to check ourselves is the easiest thing we can do if our feelings start running amuck.

In short: We qualify which moves we make on the board. The best we can aim for is to even out. We don’t gotta get mad if it ain’t about us. One of the best things I learned from my grandmother is “Everything ain’t about you and trust me – that’s a good thing!.”

Premonition, Paranoia, Fear or The Heart?

Can it be Premonition, Paranoia, Fear, or The Heart?

I feel something coming. It’s coming to arrest me. To lock me up inside a cell of confusion. I don’t want to get lost. I only want to be found at the bay of safety. I’m being stalked by the shadow. Everywhere I turn the light follows me but so does this shadow. I have no secret place away from this troubling feeling. I am taken away by the travels of fear and paranoia – they are driving me further into my shadow existence.

My feelings are witnessing to a Premonition that something is gonna arrive and it will leave me without reason or answer. Listening to the heart means sometimes doing the unthinkable. The heart might as well be our inward eyes. It sees what reality is for what it is made up out of. It can’t unsee what it sees. No matter how we try to put on the shades to protect ourselves from the radiation of what we see.

The longing for something better has once again returned.

I lie awake at night on fire, my core literally burns.

That familiar voice that is my own tells me to run and hide.

The only problem is that there’s nowhere to go; how can I run from my own insides?

Is it so bad to long for what’s unknown and simultaneously known?

I cry out, asking for help, asking simply to be shown.

Is it selfish that I want recognition for what it is I’ve done?

Even if I give all of the credit to the Ultimate One?

Is it selfish that I want it to be my name that is spoken?

Is it selfish that I want some appreciation, even a small token?!

It seems the only thing to do is wait until the end.

I must wait until our eternal lives are slated to begin.

Only then will these questions asked be answered with no bias.

When these notions of an ever-dwindling time are simply put behind us.

(Timeless Burning – Sylina D. Black)

This poem totally rhymes with my heart and the overall direction of this piece. Thank you again Sylina – for remaining right on time with your subject, motif, and genre.

The heart never lies because it’s beating to keep you alive. Navigating through the multilayered sound of the heart can confuse what fear, paranoia, or premonition offers. It’s best to start off with love because love returns everything to focus.

When you don’t have love to back things up, you are literally screwed. If love ain’t the backbone and foundation – you only have curse words and empty promises. Nothing ahead of you can make a clear path. You are destroyed with only memory and fainted desires to build with plastic wood. You can’t move to a safe place if love isn’t already your safe place. If you build with weak tools and equipment, eventually everything is gonna crumble and retire back to inflated wheels.

This is why love must be the champion in a relationship. If it doesn’t keep you coming back, love was never there. You believed falsely. You thought it was true only to find out you were robbed of honesty. You got hoaxed. Fooled by the enormities of emotion and pleasure.

You believed in what was real in the idea but false in reality. You gonna have to pay for this sacrifice by offering another promise. You won’t win this time, you’ll have to replenish it again. You lost but only to gain again consciousness. You gotta hit harder but only to the right target.

Spiral Confessions

The sky is my mansion where a pallet is transfixed. The more I look up, the more I see endless spirals turning into real life forms. I wonder what ideas can exist, from what’s above me and below me. All is possible with imagination and with the inspiration, you can create the very thing inside your mind. It’s very confrontational to see the very result of what is physical in your mind. It’s not about whether it’s possible – but about the process to enable it to come to life. The process depends on where you are in your life – a lot of things don’t make as much sense as they use to because I’ve evolved. The more I grow, the more I know. Knowledge is mutated and with this means a sharper awareness of my sensitivity to confession.

Confessions of mystery’s tail are hypnotized at length. While my eyes are turning into further oblivion, I’m counting the days ahead of me. What’s found in the eye of the spiral is confessed at the misunderstanding of destination. I’m caught in the influx of where I want to go, and what is meant to be redeemed in my previous promise.

The more I look, the more I change on what I’m really seeing. It’s like looking into the eyes of a spiral – it confuses your eyes and misleads what is seen next. The spirals are like optical illusions, I see more than one thing confessed. My admission is that I understand multiple directions. This only encourages my navigation because I have the freedom to entertain the depth and height.

Come again o’ gust of wind and blow me into distant lands. Return to me – far away places, where I’m found only by the deepest seas and highest mountains. I’m incapable of seeing all avenues left for me because I’ve already been covered in telescopes and magnifiers. I’m followed by infinite spirals and they seek to rearrange me. Fruits from the tree have fallen and in close proximity – one can distinguish the rotten pieces.

What’s dead was once alive only now spoiled by the passing evolution. Changes are recurring and patterns are emptying their significance. Time becomes a deeper illusion and I’m hypnotized by the spiral. I am spiraling out of awakening – the signal is gaining a hypnosis of sensibility. A sour taste lays upon my tongue when I realize the irreversible. Days like this are made up by silent discussions in my heart.

I’ve always been fascinated by spirals and their infinity. When I was young, I’d always draw a spiral with an eye in the middle. This would signify the random state of a hypnotic rhythm. Spirals symbolize what’s constantly confessing tricks of the eye. Spiral Confessions are the turns in my eyes that build on the invisible until manifested. Random ingredients are captured by mindless mixing to convey taste. Methods come and go but with the eye of the spiral, confessions are random and full with direction.

Pardon me while I take a ride to a land of wind and dust. This ride makes me nauseous because it swirls through infinite directions. I’m here and there and everywhere at the same time. Spiral Confessions are statements of mystery which are filled with twists and 360 directions.

In A Matrix Dress

She’s personified in a matrix dress.

I think I’m starting to understand why The Red & Blue Pill was so crucial.

This rabbit hole is eternally determined by the merging of red and blue.

A deeper purple, a color which has inquired both equal red and blue.

I’m drawn to this natural light and all of the powers that come with the edge.

Her everlasting sunbeams motivate me to taste her core.

I’m starting to feel like I’m getting into her deeper tunnel – I want her light to manifest like the brightest star.

It’ll be fatal to stare into her eyes for too long.

She can blind me with the strength of her illumination.

It’s worth the loss of eyesight, for what can I truly see without her?

Her hair is her compass, and her eyes are her wheels.

She knows exactly where she is going, and I’ll follow her all the way.

The remix of illusion is mystery dressed in mathematics.

Hovering

I’m hovering over you because you’re over me.

Your shadow is a lurking creep and I swear it’s to keep me in the age of ancient time.

Sweet forces of bliss pantomimed.

In my heart and my conscious mind.

Addressing the tribulations of my alienated vocal dimension – I beckon to be heard.

Through a lover like you, with a season of passion and a river of mention.

To be carried under your umbrella of comfort, I plead for the rain to shower.

Just to be felt by your grasp, only a little more, and I’ll be closer into the pondering of your mind.

Comforted by the sweet walls of your thoughts.

These scales of recognition are trailing marks of your interest to me.

Your ideas carved with me in sound.

Breathlessly my own sequence of words is captured in the engaging glare.

Train Membrane

The heartbeat of your stimulation beats in syncopation with my desire to please you.

You breathe very slowly, as I inhale the detailed whispers of what you anxiously await, to uncover you.

There is a train in the membrane, which climbs to the height of our awaiting passions.

Your hands write onto my back, the secrets of gratitude.

You claw a print onto me gently; yet very passionately. I thrust into you deeply, and your sighs recognize the power, enveloped within my passion.

Your canvas has shown me yellow chakras a liken to sun rays.

Your hair is sizzling and your pulse calmly speaks of eager anticipation.

I am paraded through the fire that belongs in our eyes.

I no longer insist that we keep our cool, as the flames eat us alive.

My love for you uncovered us in the cold.

The heat is sufficient enough!

While you’re pounding heartbeat scribbles your lifeline, my drums signatures my thirst for life!

In many emotions, my mind is like a train, and the membrane is enveloped in my present passions. I remember writing this piece when I gazed at a shy angel at a party. She was too shy to speak in detail with me. I somehow could tell by the sweat of my suspicion there was a narration, that would begin when she shook my hand. All of this is ~~innuendo~~ and none of it truly summarizes the actual. That is what makes a metaphor, a clever designer! What you read is tempted to persuade a sense of sexual heat. Behind the door of sensual and sexual invitation is the knob of broader expressions. Expressions which detail other mannerisms. which dance in my mind. It’s more than the mere mention of taste and intimacy, the train is what institutes a track of arrival. I can’t derail off the tracks when the focus is within a membrane!

Sex Shuffle

Shuffling between the cards laid about between my deck, many strangers of games – gaze in my incentive.

Aliens are these strangers with a unique knowledge that seems familiar.

They speak of this muse and how long she sought to travel down the line and within a consciousness of root.

She begged me to go deeper.

She closed my eyes with the whispers of her satisfaction

Then I woke up in the dream of her own existence.

Who was I really looking at anyway?

My vibrations begin to deceive the bed where I lied.

The question is: Do You Lie?

If you’re talking about if I sleep or not, yes I do.

I lie.

But it is not a lie of deception.

The more I try to explain, I then, I lose half of the reasons she came to me.

It happens so fast, I squeezed her frame and she reminded me she was only that a frame.

Many selections are now in play and they gather with a sequence of sex.

Sex which shuffles the cards of game or reality?

Breaking Sugar

You are like a fallacious cat! With suspense, you lurk around, but I am unable to determine your enveloped complexity.

We mumble and are granted with a possessed pause!

Our eyes have met each other and the sentencing of conviction is held captive.

Through our burning and BREAKING – we’ve established the power which creates a flammable wind.

The smile of our temptation is understood by the science of our physicality.

Your water brooks have kept the springs which give life to the destitute land.

But, I like Moses will strike my rod upon you and with ease, I shall enter this promised land.

A land which speaks of true fantasy.

True and delicate pieces of passion fruits which cover.

We’ve spoken of timing and this concept of waiting, as it truly prolongs the need to implant this seed.

The bursting of SUGAR describes the garden of energy and the galaxy from which it comes from.

Rectified Cosmos

Sometimes, when you study something, you are brought to a halt, as what was already enormous grows into something bigger and more complex. It’s kind of what happens with certain music I listen to. Everyone wants you to hear this NEW artist or song, BUT I can’t swallow it all at one time. Some artists and subjects truly need eating utensils and a processing schedule. Anytime, I study the eyes of our universe I am brought with a sense of wonder. Not all the time am I taken back to write unless there is great mysticism involved, and in this case, this time, true sensation revealed itself. One of the reasons, I am drawn to the study of our galaxies could be because I truly don’t feel as If I belong here sometimes. I truly believe the cosmos of everything is resurrected when we truly observe everything around us. Just look above at the moon!

The eyes of the universe are unending.

The cosmos entirely rectifies an audible sensation of discovery.

The oscillations of what we see only in one moment become swallowed up in thousands of prisms.

The acceleration into the engulfing complexity stirs a desire within me for abbreviations and digestion.

Time begins to find meaning in creation.

The beginning spells itself out to me.

A mystical wonder that weighs in on the physics of mystery.

Information coming from intelligibility are embedded in the core of all that is.

A universal cosmos that is rectified becomes of the equations and questions out there.

Within the concept and continuous abbreviations of who we are, the transformation accelerates at such alarming rates!

Our eternity is embedded within us. We are born into the flawlessness of creation!

Love’s Dictum

You’re surrounded by the marvels of human struggle.

You smile at rebellion as it motivates you to create the will to break free.

I never meant to translate that a future was inconceivable.

I just want more than meets the eyes.

“A depth into sensation wherein the glances of glory; transforms our hearts.”

Seeing the sunset of your character frozen into imagination; inspires me to break the ice and warm you through appending realizations of fire.

As time regurgitates itself, we can then move into a new transition.

The dictum of love; pronounces the authority; wherein the expression of its value is made known.

When we glance at the marvels and mystery of human struggle, we often are propelled to create. Often times, I have seen so many smiles at those who turn the wheel in another direction, those who don’t mind to STAND UP, when everyone says SIT DOWN! To keep talking, although they are threatened to be silent! There is a need to keep going in the midst of the war when love is truly pronounced; we can, by all means, continue with a motion that is welcoming! COLOR is a sensation. It is brighter than the odds of what is invisible. The deeper we go there, we will be able to see more clearly.

Then, there is the question of time. AND who hasn’t had something to say about it? We can look at Albert Einstein, and his theory on time or even other great philosophers and artists, who ponder at its measure. Can it be measured at all? IF it’s non-existent why do we program ourselves to its design? There is so much involved in the magic of LOVE, and I just want to encourage everyone to grab hold to it!

As we see those frozen into imagination, it is by the reality of fire we can warm those closest to us!

You indeed have the authority, to bring about a change!

Orchestrated Intentions

Life has a funny way of demonstrating its intentions. The one behind the veil really is the one who orchestrates the story.

I’ve realized the reason to ponder mentions of sovereignty. When one reins the innermost areas of your mind; their scent is what causes a passion for their setting. Avoiding the palace of present stories establishes the realities of desires which may embrace your heart. No one quite understands the full complexity of love as it flows through the medium of simple conversation. When one talks to a persuasion which causes them to question love or the very form of it, they are contaminated with mystery and desire. In the brilliance of silence, one manages to rest in the thought of what causes action. I’ve begun to cling to a surreal identity that has a name and a memory. Traveling into the timeless palaces, bring forth a feeling of an enterprise.

I remember when I said this 6/22/10:”I feel very honored to realize what beauty is to me. It’s more than just a wow factor. More than an inclination of passion, beauty has performed before the eyes of mystery, only to reveal its revelation! It’s paradise found! There is a city I travel to every day and moment of the very second! I will call it the city of X/ X-Factor for now. In this city, the measure of the equation already gives definition to reality. I can expound on it all day! I’m very much honored to have this now! I owe it all to the X Factor!”

The ‘X’ factor can often be a variable which suggests mystery but when one discovers the formula, the equation is not even bothersome. It is in this confession of intention, where I belong under the order of orchestration. When one thinks about the mindless cycles of talented tendencies; they begin to look forward to the sounds of joy and pain. In this effect, giving birth remains and shadows a supernatural experience.

Looking into the rainbows of the sky one can see color has carried on the bedspread of the clouds. The ultra-violet lights of the sun have made visible bright expectations. It’s a scenario where the stars, moon, and sun belong to me. In the nucleus of my own galaxies, I have already become distant to earthly forces. I will make known an invisible promise to my own self. Silence brings sleeping memories and encourages informative desires. What is now will always be; for I have learned the motion of company. I feel pretty close to my will now, and my representation of meaning means realistic.

Summarized Notion Of Thought: The symphonies of deliberate innuendos gives the music a melody that is hidden in the rhythmic harmony. Think about it like this; the deeper our understanding for the degrees of light makes us apprehensive to look into the eyes of the light. I know now, our capacities to arise on the landscape of what is real depends on our focus.