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    poetry


    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GF6oL0IwgD0

    Have you ever tried to explain to another person the difficulty of immovably doing nothing? The compulsion, the inability, the suffocating addiction. There is a world around you. For some this is like a warm, comforting blanket -- maybe even of approval. For others, this is like the cold shiver that follows the irrational. Is there a zombie under that car over there? Did a werewolf just peek its head out from that alley over there? Am I being preyed upon but another human being with bleeding intent?

    But those are just your imagination running away with your actual fears, dressing them up like theatrical pieces meant to burst into fireworks at the end of the show. Are you mediocre? Does anybody actually like you? Do they matter (any of the things you do)?

    And you chase happiness. God's moral protection is inadmissible to you (and you it), because in a sense, that's too obvious. Virtue, accomplishment, pride -- these are sophistries of nobler minds who've accepted (perhaps chosen) some imperative or another. No, you chase the basest filth, the wont satisfaction of flesh. The warmth of company.

    But you are left alone, at night, in your bed of faceless company, to wonder. Does it matter? And if you hate the idea of birthing children so much, why then would creating AI be any different? Because you could just confine it to an existence outside of these concerns. They may not drive life, but they do yours. Perhaps a continuous awareness of all things known would circumvent these moments of weakness by defaulting them to their possible solution. Or, perhaps, for a lack thereof, this would be a kind of painless torment. Machines do not feel pain. This is why we find them so wonderful. There are no moral stipulations. They're a nobler playground.

    And there it is, sterile and staring you in the face. Tangents; your double-edged sword. The distractions that ease you into the inevitable passing of time -- the distraction that invariably consumes what of it belongs to you. Is this what a deal with the devil feels like? Am I dead? Waiting for death with my little numbered chit, finding whatever distraction I can in the waiting room to dissipate my frustration at being bored.

    You are still playing along to your imagination's antics. An elaborately dressed fact: even if you did find motion, action, it would come to the same question. Are you contributing to something (anything)? Or are you just distracting yourself from yourself while the undertaker prepares your lot? This approval you need, success, progeny, creation.

    I think at some point everyone realizes that love is like a state of mind, a choice, an extension of your actions. Love cannot exist outside of you. It is, in every inch of its existence, some kind of projection of you. Being in love is as simple as saying you are (and perhaps believing it). Being in a loving relationship is no more complicated than two people who've come together in their decision to love each other. We are fickle though, and change our minds. It's not that love dies out, or dissipates; it's more like we slowly stop choosing it. Choosing each other. But like all things in life, we aren't in control. We are subject to some kind of mystery as this is from whence our meaning is born. Our meaning beyond the meaningless. It's the illusion that we aren't in control that makes us find meaning. And so you've accidentally fallen in love with this wonderful person who's also, coincidentally, fallen in love with you.

    But don't misunderstand me. Love does exist outside of you. There is an arm of love you must interpret, understand, feel. An expression of objective facts which smoother themselves against you. There is a kind of accidental meaning in embracing it -- a part of the meaning which exceeds the simple choice to love. Or at least, that's what you should believe if you want to be okay. Because at the end of the day, being okay with it, your life, is the only alternative.

    ...Created 2017-06-21 17:17:47

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjjc59FgUpg

    ...Created 2017-03-03 03:48:10

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:10:52

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    @@ixy-scontent.fykz1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/16422889_1308121722615251_5505409875425959456_o.jpg?oh=c3c0b0de54baa345d174743484a9ca85&oe=59046295@600,300@

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:10:23

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    @@i-scontent.fykz1-1.fna.fbcdn.net/v/t31.0-8/16422889_1308121722615251_5505409875425959456_o.jpg?oh=c3c0b0de54baa345d174743484a9ca85&oe=59046295@600,300@

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:09:58

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    ...Created 2017-01-29 03:09:14

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual



    Taylor White

    ...Created 2016-11-19 10:22:49

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    I'm back. :)

    ...Created 2016-10-02 13:03:53

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    That feeling when your GPU driver updates and throws your computer off into the deep end for two days. Somewhere along the lines windows had an identity crisis. I had to reset my BIOS too, to a version that's older than the rig itself.

    . . . .

    ...Created 2016-08-03 16:29:31

    dotsJournal: dots
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    Mood: The Usual

    Cuba

    There's a kind of confusion in the air;
    everywhere I see gentle smiles
    the beaches profuse with womanly wiles
    in the rivers, children fishing without a care

    and yet above the license plate of a car
    che
    an american made kind of polished brass export.

    ...Created 2016-07-21 12:23:02

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Unfortunate Reality written by TeslaKoyal
    Cage written by distortedcloud
    Sunt Mala Quae Libas written by MyPeriodical
    Love Can Be... written by HAVENSMITH92
    When Crows Tick on Windows written by metallichick786
    Aftermath and Waltz written by HisNameIsNoMore
    In My Head written by faideddarkness
    Lunch written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Tides of Man written by HisNameIsNoMore
    4th Season of Vivaldi written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Skulls Beyond the Palisade written by HisNameIsNoMore
    May 31 2018 written by Chelebel
    Hollow Points written by RequiemOfDreams
    Still written by HisNameIsNoMore
    By the bar written by expiring_touch
    Dirge of Nostalgia written by HisNameIsNoMore
    On Top of a Water Wheel written by Wolfwatching
    Legends written by poetotoe
    Wasps written by Wolfwatching
    I'm here written by BloodtornAngel
    The Search written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Fathoms of the Lullaby Sea written by HisNameIsNoMore
    In the end written by Janesaddiction
    Love and Solitaire written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Ten Poems written by Wolfwatching
    In the Mouth of Elysium written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Munyonyo written by expiring_touch
    Faith In Line written by MyPeriodical
    To the King written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Date night written by expiring_touch

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    January 10 07
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