blessings // buttons y'all ~ here is where you can push the buttons of meaning and poetic interpretations of angel & angle windows of insight. peek around, there's a lot to see. (you may discover a key) For me? To sew is bestow! (buttons are like seeds) my aim is to frame THAT name : my sight is to ignite and thus write N2 PARADISE CLARITY. (for what is understanding if not for the s3arch & struggle to get there?)
All this time I was only a biscuit without a two piece
*and a sigh of regret*
A dry muffin that yearned to take honey out on a lease
I was despised for my inability to fulfill a hunger spell UNTIL The flakiness of the edge of the biscuit ended up in my teeth’s jail
oh, what the hell….”
If you don’t watch out – the aftermath is coming to await you – as soon as you finish at the last bite. You’ll have some illusion of relief because of the flavors and satisfying *feeling* of being full. Great! So you ain’t hungry no more! *but what did you eat?* Did you eat anything that grew from the ground? Or was it most of it processed with added chemicals? We are not always served the intentions we put out. A memory may have made it good from before but in the present, it doesn’t measure the same.
You can expect a room full of diverse colors and patterns the moment you invite growth into your palace. Some guests are simply no longer invited. Some even overstay their welcome. For growth comes in to cultivate the seeds that were planted. If you’re not listening to your body and honoring the requests, it’ll start reminding you. It’s just like anything – learning how different things communicate is what makes one a great communicator.
It’s like that one time you ordered a biscuit and a two piece but you didn’t realize one of the pieces didn’t connect to the full picture. Some pieces are like small fragments from a mosaic. Depending on how far you’re looking, the details make a difference in how you interpret what you’re seeing. Some are larger than you think with added calories and enticement.
Memories can be unreliable because they switch the colors of the room. While we may think we know how to measure our memories accurately, we very often miss the mark.
It is not strange, for one to commonly order a side (sigh) order with a two-piece and biscuit. This could be a sigh order of relief, regret, or any range of emotions.
I’m dreaming of a world with more zeros. A future filled with information which doesn’t end but repeats. A loop of daily routine found in a prism of ideas, to yield more discovery. How grand it would be, for our future to endlessly reach more experiences of love.
In a time where research is easily accessible – do you ever stop to think – we have enough information already? There’s so much hidden and revealed, there can’t be anything else left for us to know, right? Nah!
There’s plenty of wisdom left to uncover. The love of wisdom is what philosophy is at the center to root. The encouragement that comes from knowledge is awe-inspiring. The potential of knowledge made to good use revives and stimulates your nerves. When information is accessed properly – it aligns your memories to your eventual dreams.
Dreaming is to uncover those random thoughts that slipped through mundanity. *Let’s be Real: Life can be incredibly stagnant and predictable.* In spite of this, A picture that you briefly looked at it – can come back as a mansion of chandeliers. These can all be set to challenge and remind you of an essence meant to be explored when you wake up.
For a moment – picture every seed as a zero. When you plant zeros in the ground – you are essentially planting nothing. That’s what it seems. A small figure that expands into something Grand. All of the proper conditions must be in sync for it to yield a worthy result. Now think of it:
Dreaming of a world with more seeds.
Wouldn’t this be Grand? Where would we plant all of these seeds? They can’t all go into the ground – that would be limiting every other pocket waiting to be filled. Plant seeds in the clouds, souls, Children, etc. You’ll never have a shortage of places to plant seeds.
The more you plant those seeds – your zeros will stand among the many.
My dream is now living life with more seeds. More opportunities that await a future that’s entwined with past and present. It’s not that hard to see. A life that encourages us to plant seeds. To intend for a result which performs positivity.
On The Express Train. Cause – I’m rejuvenated. By a sense of revival. I feel it deep in my toes. I’m curling up again. Beginning to blush. Feeling the rush but I’m shy by the awakening. I feel like a young boy at the altar. I feel the fans sweeping against my face. I’m sweating. Through a sense of revival, I have become the reviver. I have renewed again by the steps set before me. I know I have to keep pushing and going after what awaits me.
I feel goosebumps crawling over me; it’s making me weep. Now I’m feeling weak. My eyes are closed yet my eyes see very bright lights. Tongues are likened to fire. Many of them are speaking; I recognize some of them but many of them sound misguided.
When looking around – I hear voices of change intending to manifest a revolution. Everyone is fierce with fire to bring about a realm of difference. A change is gonna come, a new way of living. Curiously, I wonder how will anything ever happen? Seeds are being planted, but the gardeners take a vacation soon afterward. People are not always responsible for the seeds they plant. They trust too easily in the unknown process. They hope it will rain and hope the sun will shine but have no clear knowledge of whether the soil is fertile enough.
Everywhere you go, people are saying this and saying that. A lot of them are saying it because they heard someone else say the same or similar things.
People usually reflect the environment they are raised to believe as valid. People are usually just believing until they experience a difference. People have to understand themselves before they can understand others. People like to do things then do nothing at all. People like to stand silent while someone else talks. People are kept with their traditions and are stubborn to believe otherwise. People want change but fail to acknowledge the mirror. People consume a lot of toxic things and believe they are being informed by those toxic things. People forget people remember. People are always doing something and nothing at all.
When I turn the knob, a room full of mystery awaits me. The unknown is carried with a promise of greater and lesser. The signal is clear and my understanding has been renewed.
Being brought back to life – I’m the reviver of chance. Words are translating into symbols – interpretation is gaining awareness of the game. A game that involves worthy cards which are shuffled at the will of the joke. I’m still the Jester – and with witticisms, I am free to possess the cards of chance. I know what is about to happen, no need to explain – only to perform. If I was to tell myself the very thing my dreams made clear – I’d have to lucidly experience my waking point.
To experience the very things I see as symbols. To encrypt the door of mystery is to decode all of the steps in a blur. The veil of the unknown is all I can see. I only know what has been invisibly sent out. Clues have become the aroma of my disappearance. Within the cancellation of presence is only a renewal of vision. My spirit is not limited by gravity – for I can not come down.
I’m seeing 7 – no matter where I look. I am finding the recurring seven.