Riddle Me That?!

 

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This project stems from the implications, questions, and declarations found in conversation. When talking to someone, we are reminded how often we miss the point of what was said. I liken ‘Riddle Me That?’ to a narrated mini-cartoon series with the protagonist being a question mark (?) and the antagonist an exclamation mark (!).

If you would like to support this project – CLICK HERE and purchase it for 7.00$ or subscribe to my Patreon. I appreciate your investment, incredibly!

To fully enjoy this, it is recommended that you listen closely otherwise you’ll just hear a bunch of people talking without full context.

And what’s the point of that anyway?

Noise and Music essentially are the same thing but they are not. Noise flows in and out of consciousness. Music is something different and we all recognize that difference. The tone and structure of a musical chord can be bent in fascinating ways. How often do we pay attention to the things that are said? In other words: are we getting Shookie or are we getting flat in how we communicate? 

Studies suggest that as a society we are talking less to each other but more through the projection of social media. We got a long way to go, but we are closer to the destination when we condense what we are saying. Getting lost in the sauce means saying things that may not be registered. However, the beauty of a question is that it stands to expect a reply. We don’t always have the proper answer, but the search for meaning carries throughout our longing to find out.

Recurring reasons provide enough evidence to suggest – what was there all along was JUST around the corner. We use symbols and parallels (parables even) to help explain our points in clever ways. We don’t always “get through”. Sometimes we have to Zoom, Inwardly.

Do you often find yourself rewinding past conversations? How often do we miss the various ‘signs’ people are giving? Ever heard someone say “that would be like saying XYZ” or “that was a red flag…”. Everything in conversation is a symbol but at the same time, nothing should be taken too seriously.

I created these scripts in the effort of acknowledging the various ways we are in conflict yet in harmony with one another. It’s a comedy! It was also a challenge to myself to do something different yet familiar.

(THERE’S A JUSTIFICATION FOR ANYTHING THAT’S THE REAL RIDDLE! HAHA!)

So, What’s the point of all the scrips? The conversation? The chatter in the background? Why are you reading? WHY AM I WRITING? To these questions – the answer remains that:

“Some are willing to unravel the parallel.”

*This project was created using 3 tools of productivity (excluding imagination)*

Audacity (Free Online Program)

Tascam DR-05 (Audio Recorder)

Laptop (But of course)

I don’t have much but what I had was enough to make this! Riddle Me that!? It’s my hope you can get something out of it. ❤

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The Guest and The Artist

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I am the guest and you are the artist.

Show me what ways you will bow to my inspiration?

Serenade me with the gift of your elegance!

Write unto me – the secrets of your most vulnerable moments!

Moments in which your suffering becomes the chief conquering.

Words which can excite colors – reminding your processes, to utter refrains of contrast.

How deeply the levels go and of how they maneuver through uncertainty.

Boxes are formulated identities, intended to help us categorize.

Living against their purpose allows the individualistic mind to champion with an organism.

Even prisms of shadows are tangible.

Visibility of stories makes a constitutional frame. 

Through the expression of the artist, the guest can then sit down. For they are apart of the individual experience witnessing the ways in which the artist’s story, connects to them.

Hovering

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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.

Mesmeric Rendition (21 Measures)

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I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday with my friends! Adia, Ethan, Daphene, Ashely, Francesca, Amir, and Jared! It was a time to remember, and it’s ONLY part ONE! It extends from this point on into the next!

What I’ve realized is a great detail within Mesmeric Renditions!

SO here we are, in the same position = I’ve had my turn, now you have given your rendition.

The same position of Birthdays and celebrations. NOW this rendition is of 21!

God, who created the universe has an amazing class, we all belong to; some of us are still sleep in the egg of unconsciousness, but I am a part of a rebirth now.

Sleeping because those dreams are only hallucinations of what we believe about the universe. Whether eternal or not – I am born again into the class of wonder.

I’m no longer hanging on the edges of a proposition.

Because, whenever we hang out on what is proposed, where do we really go? We are either on the cliff or razor edge

Surely – All of this kitten suspense is growing into a LION!

Those kittens that run through the ally allowed the black shadow to a metamorphosis of a LION of grand ROARING!

I can hear the roar – trembling at my doorstep! Once, I open it; I’m in for it!

Starting at a hesitant scream. Hearing the loud roar, as you open the door, you can see this won’t be a good conversation.

I’ve already shot my ego on the landscape of heated desire.

This passion burns inside of me, best to release it as the fever begins to trickle at the eyesight of indulgence.

No longer am I seeking a seized past comfort, my rest now prepares for eternal mesmeric chords.

The seized past is no longer sought because my resting is a chord played 21 measures…