If I were a Mystic

If I were a Mystic....

There are rules to follow.
It is here are basis of games without rules.
Competition vs calculation
No no nonsense.
Every minute is a minute of nostalgia.
I listen to my inner self.
I feel my inner body.
As through the inertia of a giant....
What it is brought to life. (Is brought to life.)
I possess a psychology!...
A secret standard.
I hold onto it with a razor sharp focus.
The pinball keeps rolling...
In every which direction.
I keep going.
Then come back for it.
Like chasing an aroma.
Both ancient and magical.
I reject the ball.
There are no rules of measurement.
There are no rules.
I play with intentions;
Only if you play like you play scrabble.
That sense of a vocabulary which just hits you.
And a Tetris on words combine into meaning.
Pointing the arrow like a weather vain.
Until the mind caves in.

Lost in Evasion

A well rounded character...

The contest is in being present....

Onto breaking rules of convention

I don't plan.
I am in favor of Equality
In the Moment
Naturally interesting
Mutual understanding of a social contract...
I refuse to allow someone policing what I say or do.
I do what the fuck I want.
To help set boundaries....
I don't like being tested for what I truly feel.

To possess a High threshold of tolerance:

Intuitive vulnerability
Authentic volatility
Organic in truth
Raw yet private

Avaliable emotionally
Awareness to your self promise of honesty.

Accessing Vocabulary in a meaningful way.

Soldiers of God

Human error can be an absolutely fatal thing.

It leads to accident.
And by accident you come across,
Your suspension of disbelief.
Thanks be to the soldier of god
Who I came across as a homeless man.
He commented on my vibration.
And this was to me my power.
The issue is I have this force of nature
And I correct the problem of human error.
I want to go to the place I once died.
It is there where I am unafraid.
So unafraid.
And so to embark on this journey,
I feel a terror inside.
Once I thought such stupor...
Is my power.
And somehow now I am unafraid.
It is a war in my head.
Where living in a world I feel disarmed
Is a rarity to me.
Too much of a good thing
Is not a good thing to waste.
And that's what makes us all soldiers of God.
That this accidental death of us all would one day
Mark human error.
What are laws without punishment of this primative pastime.
I like feeling in my comfort zone
Looking out the window....
A contender!

This my retreat into faith.
Sparks flying and my ears I feel are burning.

The legend of Sacrement

It is a parody of particual judgment,

That in any of ones affairs ones compass points toward
Calculated movements.
As these movements become conspicuous.
So conspicuously crafted into mind,
That these mind tunnels take you through a
well thought out conscious effort
as how to get carried away.
My imagination pronounces its disappointment.
To break through the barriers of racist ideology.
So not purged upon.
But how intent you are to correct the kind of thinking,
That has no true religious aspect of it.
Religion has its own purpose to intervene with how the mind should function.
It is my personal philosophy that seeks truth however!
And even or odd,
Odd or Even...
Off or not on.
On or not off.
I think I saw her ingenuity in a heartbeat.
The virgin mother never dies in us.
We are always present in our mother's loins.
So through all of this.
I don't know what to say.
All I do know is my father who art in heaven,
Travels upward on this Hill - not down.
And as I reach this pinnacle.
At the height of this hill.
It rains like milk from heaven.
Expect this milk is not white in substance.
It rains black.
It rains in black.
And cleanses me.
My skin feels rejuvenated.
My soul feels it even more so.
And all of the sudden you go cold.
Cold in the milky substance that rains.
Back to a time you will always remember,
How your tears were made by God's hand.

I refuse to be purged upon for being racist, sexist or prejudice.
What connects all these things?
Not that we are consumers of god's unearthly image.
What is class conscious.
I will not be treated minimum wage.
I will not fear being discriminated against as second class.
What I pray for is to be a creative class conscious of individuals.
I will only tap the surface of the forehead.
It is a forceful nature hidden beneath the shadowless recess of my mind.

The Puzzle Factory

I feel a touch incandescent in the mastery of my comfort zone.

Alone in the recess of love.

I think of clues - in the crossword of life
All so uncarelessly crafted.
Struggle vs suffering
Is drudgery.
The drudgery of my misbehavior.
My skull starving for salvation...
My phantom Juliette (is what I call her....)
To whom I feel emptiness on the inside.
I just can't describe.
This monkey on my back,
About a secret unclaimed.
Magically magically present in my loneliness.
An Angel falling...
Falling...
Cheating gravity.
In this the place I am at peace.
Where nothing torchers me.
Where time passes as time terminates my fears.
Light spent all my own.
My mind combining my spirit with memory.
Finding a cemetery to land.

Beauty in the dark nature of romance

You can fake everything but your feelings.

I feel I've been going blind.
Because I regulate everything.
Even when depression hits.
It's a protest of hostility hidden deep inside of me.
How does one find the pretensious world as it surrounds you.
It is a cause of perpetuity.
Where everyone wants to last forever.
It's a toxic environment filled with a host of black flies buzzing around...
They make those zooming sounds.
Zooming zooming around.
Dead in your ear drum.
You could swear they just die in there.
A rotten death.
Where flies enter never to come out again.
So how I regulate things is not by death.
But by mourning.
Somberly so.
Such striking design.
Where intelligence meets its end.
And nothing appears equal.

We are all this shallow and you don't know how.

How alive you can be without necessarily feeling it.

Or isn't it another propositional form.

How can you feel alive without everyone else agreeing.

I am unsure which of which is more alluring.

Maybe never.

The smell of Brandy or your refined taste of (romantic) language in thought.

The small yet skinny fortune of your physical figure.
The luxury of a dollar store and everything in it.

Fire flies in the face of reason dancing at night, defining the recession of your true god like nature. I like it here.

And the abnormal nature of dying...
What is alone living your own heroic death without romance...
Are the final thoughts of my final resting place will be...

(Though I wish everyone knew it.)

This the hearts of hopeless romantics...
A sadder story never told.

My mind is drunk on it.

Against a psychic that won't lie.

Immortality in accusing gods imprisonment

If we are not all prisoners of God in God's mind then what is which you see makes you relate to that stated prejudice. My answer is we are aimless according to a phantom blueprint. There is no master plan. Only your self wonder.

Everything you outwardly express travels inside-out into your brain's circuitry. Therefore, this is true of how you impress your disbelief in the things you attribute to real life. What we fail to perceive as God given.

My disbelief in God would appeal to a prejudice in that our God would struggle with. Would it not.

To be gods prisoner if God experienced a life on earth. Makes us all mortals. If we are not affiliated to gods purpose then prejudice is man made proposition. Such is logic and dialectic. Divinity is that we are gods prisoners in God's mind. As if we were imprisoned.

The divine dialect can only be driven in pursuit of a liberating god. One that imagines god in prison for a crime god didn't commit. This is no different than informing yourself of prejudice to gods name. You are not a lie in gods imagery of that nature.

Mr clairvoyant

I have an ear ache.

My grandmother is here.

In my ear.

She lives in my ear.

In fact she has, lived in my ear since its birth.

The ear is a fascinating place to be.

Especially because it never leaves your mother's womb.

The most defined part of where it hurts the most. What it feels like to cry because it hurts so so much.

The aforementioned state of my personal psychometry.

My grandmother gave this to me. 

She was born with telepathy from the gods. 

Forever my Birthday

 I am the stranger you never met.

If you're playing dead ...

Are you not reading my mind.

There is no psychological disturbance

Because all I do is stimulate 

You.

Stimulating me.

Stimulating you.

As I sleepwalk through the day.

Void of all inhibition.

The last decimal

 

Sitting in the hot baked grave,
Deep beneath the hot hot sun.
The great waves upon waves echoing.
As it echoes in my ear drum like a spiraling
Masterpiece of sound shaped like a sea shell.
I hear everything I can.
The traces of my mind linger.
In this house built without windows.
Where would I be without you under a different solstice,
Where the past consumes me....
Where the future rests.
And the eyes of the Holy ghost preside in me.

NeoLiberal feminist ideology

I found this to be a good working definition of right wing feminism.

Nature of language vs racing thoughts

If that nature of language exists in a vacuum.

Autocracy 🇺🇸 2020 July

If I had the skills to combat the evil autocracy that trump has imposed under martial law I would. What these cowards in uniform are doing not without obeying Trumps orders is abhorrent and shamefully exorbitant. How can these militants look in the mirror for these actions. These are peaceful protestors for an honorable cause.

Unbelievable. The excuse using Military action is that protesters cannot use equal force. Which is besides the point. What Trump is doing is illegal.

the as if

Acting is cathartic.

What you perceive intellectually is a spell you are under. The impression of an intention you inevitably invariably internalize a dialect. The goal is to experience it into an emotion.  You learn to maneuver through it while living the part.

Manipulation and its perverse reality ¥ predicating the spiritual as visible

Divinity in nature is predicting the invisible or impregnating thought predates knowledge.

Psychic activity is logic dictating everything god wanted you to know about.

Our consciousness/perception evolve through story.  When a person writes a story (living the part) they are emulating the method of nature.

We have character (that is you) the character arc (change of your perception of reality) caused by the conflict in the plot (your life).

Yes. Nature ¥ (you can call it gods will) creates the conflict.

How does one question the achievement of desire....equate to the acquisition of divinity in nature.  Can gods will be free of conflict. Is that the force of which nature becomes.

My own desire is not only to know myself but to lay in it while I wait for the blueprint to dry.  That defeats how my personal slavery is a lie born to freedom from design which is honored. That means if our desires were calculated or prewritten in stone my slavery would atone for it.

With respect to salvation, the spirit, its believability... The one

The same purpose to commit murder can be found in an act of suicide or perhaps the basis for philosophy can be as morbidly thought in attaching the position of a philosopher's. Can salvation  be defined as such. The very purpose of how salvation is interpreted into transforming your third dimensional life into a forth dimensional form of being. Transcending the idea of heaven as you walk among the clouds.

There is no answer. The answer to provide purpose itself can only be in the capacity that you find salvation. All growth is is salvation working around you. Reality you present is a conspiracy no one else sees but you.

So this is the best working idea or definition of what salvation is not.

To no end

I am the face. The power of God. I use my mask to cover it. But I only choose carefully to reveal it from time to time. I recently found out about a serious issue surrounding my uncle who has been diagnosed with cancer. He taught me what the true meaning of being one with God is.

In all of that he unmistakably showed me what my life is worth simply by the love he carried for me (found only in his heart.)  He put the fear of God in me. He made me feel weak based on the kind of love he had empowered me. To no end. And because of this I know all of it as true.

My favorite uncle! His name is Anibal Martins. His fire as fierce as the heart of a lion's. I possess this on most days. The heart of such flesh and blood. His worst  enemies were too afraid to admit they were and if you crossed that line between him and God.

It is a line you better be prepared to cross.

An approach to Feminist ideology

Feminists on the far right typically use austerity only to make members of the opposite sex feel oppressed and unimportant. It is not an example of a feminists ability to manipulate or persuade who they target. Feminists in this case make victims under their own false pretense.

Once a feminist has an agenda that agenda changes every moment they feel uncontrollable neutrality. This absurdist hot take on feminist agenda is based on their marriage to tolerance and inequality.  To take responsibility for their own actions which makes for extreme division.

The instinctive approach to feminist ritual is to seek individual worship in place of resistence toward them. These are tactics or strategically placed signals that combine a feminist ideology of its far right approach.

I am an anti feminist by nature although a true feminist fight in search of equality. It is a non existent lie. Equality is unconditional and should not be associative of gender based bias. That is a definitive difference to change culture of one's mind.