memory is something savored

how some of us refresh the memories
go over them at leisure
in leisure

times

picture events
in meticulous recall for our own
pleasure… the reasons
for this

and that
a backdrop to
understanding… the memories

because i remember
the set to his mouth
a steadfastness that blasted the swallow’s nest
with the hose

the necessity of doing unpleasant things
registered for me that day
as i picked up the tiny blue egg

knowing it would never fly

but was it blue?
do swallows have blue eggs
or did i insert that at some point
to qualify my wonder

to explain how it hurt
me

to shoulder that particular side of necessity
and format guilt to its chosen
box

file
list of contrast to delight
at the wholeness
of one beginning

one egg
not crushed

refreshed in these moments
to myself
spent shoring continuity

creating a smile for the mouth
but not the eyes
lost inside the complexity
of gathered reasons
piled on yesterday,
still

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the long and winding paragraph

the thing to realize about trump, is that he was raised without faith, and thrown to the wolves to be raised without a mother. psychological manipulation is his bread and butter, because he only got the understandings from his mom on that up to 5 th grade, and then was thrown into the world to use it. so he doesn’t have the advanced degree in manipulation like most people raised by mothers receive, and therefore just increased the scope of his base manipulations. the problem with that, is he will fail to see through more complicated forms of the art. and as a country, we hope there are enough people around him who are versed in the art, to give warning. but that doesn’t help, you cannot delegate these levels of comprehension. and when combined with a spoiled attitude of getting whatever you want when you want it…. that is what we are seeing. a person who put themselves into leadership for god knows what reason, that has no patience for achieving long term goals. and especially goals that involve the well being of others. he will always first choose any solution that ensures his well being when it contradicts the well being of others. you have to learn about personal sacrifice when you are young. he did not learn personal sacrifice. he learned to hit back always. and in that, because not versed in the higher aspects of manipulation, he is VERY easily manipulated. the only question is who is doing it the most. other than that, the mark of a thespian, to crave the attention, is an external locus. you only think of yourself according to how other people think of you. and that property develops from childhood neglect. it also is the property that fuels suicide, the way his brother chose suicide (maybe). when everybody seems to lose interest or respect for you, and the meaning of life disappears. and that’s not the kind of psych profile you just hand over more power to, over the lives of those he trusts to shore up his external locus. it’s an accident waiting to happen. i actually HOPE donald trump killed his older brother, because that would mean he is more stable than if he didn’t. but i’m probably wrong, and we ARE looking at very bad possibilities. so far, his delegating responsibility approach has lead to policy so chaotic, that no one in the country has any guarantee of future. that’s why they are all throwing everything into gambling, on the stock markets. that will just raise inflation by lowering the value of the dollar itself with too much investment. less money circulated. might turn into jobs, but not fast enough to help the fall of the dollar (people will make more money but have to spend even more money to get the same necessities for living) . so that puts all the pressure on the lower half of the pyramid, that is already manipulated too closely to mob justice for comfort. so the poverty will increase crime, and the police state will become more necessary, and the pressure on that bottom of the pyramid will increase even more….. with loss of the middle class. and so much for our american dream. that’s where it is headed, that is what the democrats have been trying to solve. and to some lives, chaos and anarchy seem the better reality. because they would prosper more in it, rather than being squished at the bottom of a pyramid. and you can’t blame them for that. so that’s what i know about what is going on. or what i can theorize. i don’t take these things from other sources, thought about them myself. it isn’t easy. the whole country had become one big mental institution. or seems that way. and i’ve taught myself to have the capability to toss my humanity asside, say heck with it. they made their bed, let them lie in it. but part of society, is that it’s not they. i am a subset of that set. don’t fill myself with pride of self-sufficiency. i look at the tea bags wrapped carefully in individual packages, and even though machine-manufactured, i quantify the man hours if they weren’t. i look at a circuit board, that i KNOW man hours went into building, and consider the pricing that low has to be slavery, pure and simple. the path have taken, economically and globally, is one that can’t be maintained. not very likely. i take a little heart, in one woman’s statement from a documentary, that more people today are living well than ever before. someone that saw those differences. so chum-by-ya, my friend. sometimes the insanity of progress is worth the result. sometimes it only looks like progress. never, never underestimate man’s inhumanity to man. the only reason you don’t get to live forever, is because you all would be selecting members to torture forever. and that’s why i do think there is a god or ultimate power, that does not allow infinite pain to happen. maybe. maybe it’s just happy circumstances. but i can tell you, the biggest worry when faced with an enemy that wants to hurt you, is how long they will keep you alive to do it. there is no end to man’s inhumanity to man. all i can do is say that won’t be me hiring others, or even wishing harm on others. but sometimes the best i can do, is shed my humanity, and say to heck with it…they believed their pie. and then it’s easier to wave and take a few breaths. say to each his own. . disengage from the whole and remember that one person … not “can” make a difference, but does make a difference. being able to let go is more important. what you choose NOT to learn is more important. delving in and learning for yourself, the discovery. well, it’s the only way to check what has been handed down as truth. and there is a lot of deception in our culture. deception is seen as necessary to survive. but it was only made necessary to survive. we can unmake it. truth is a difficult thing, because not only can false views be more pleasant, but they become familiar. and the familiar will always be more comfortable. it’s why people return to abusive relationships. the unknown hurts. making sense of things fracks you in the head. you have to know your math, because you have to know what percentage you are, out of ALL the other people out there. very few are online. this is not a true crosscut of populations. not only are there groups and factors not represented, but then sites like facebook top that off by using an algorithm that censors what you see in your fb feed. so if you are depressed, it will make you more depressed. if you are happy, it will make you more happy. each is equally addicting. but there are not only those two polar opposites. and the internet has reached into the “real” world in many ways. the change to rude behavior happened with trump asking his followers to join twitter. people that normally would have never gotten online. ones that missed the memo for polite interaction. then the enemy infiltrated, know english, and waded in to pretend they were members of the usa and with one camp or the other. working to make things worse in the usa. and oh well, you can’t teach them to be nice, because their whole point is destruction and hatred. and now our leader wants to work on making us MORE hated while his followers cheer. because they need to feel power. it’s all an interesting situation. but my flowers still need to be watered, and i’m the one to do it. people walk by and comment how pretty, and i do that for others. gardens are not something for pride, they are a wonder. the internet garden is no place for pride, now. but maybe wonder is still possible. and creation. and caring for others where we can. not take it all too seriously. this too, shall pass. we all will. and that’s actually a good thing. see, i even wonder if eternal life has already been discovered. and is saved for the few that are kept secretly locked away. and if i might join them some day. because i posed of the wrong people. so i have personal conspiracy theories above and beyond anything as simple as why a couple buildings crashed to the ground. i see that as the minor leagues of paranoia. there is the possible versus the probable. it’s always better to see the good in people, when you can. but sometimes the probable intrudes, with trepidation becoming a way of life. and that is no way to live. the way i drop fear, is to make it so large that it’s impossible to carry. i know what depths humanity can reach, and has. not eons ago, either. i know what is probable, given the lack of empathy, and what could be described as a reverse-empathy, where seeing others in pain actually brings joy to far too many adult humans. and i don’t know what causes that. it’s a type of sadism. but i have never experienced joy from hurting others. it is beyond my ken, so i have no way to figure out why the incidence of sadism seems to be rising. the key word in that is “seems.” though i remember plenty from childhood, it’s just that a large number of those cruel children grow out of it. and i’ve seen many adults use their children for cruel purposes, like an extension. i still don’t know why some children don’t realize their cruelty. or fall to that temptation so readily. there is the factor that children are more easily distracted. ? eh…… my point is that i’ve thought about these things, and the problems in our society. the problems that indicate going downhill, instead of rising to a better civilization. and we fret on that, on losing what we are. but it is important to remember that so much has been accomplished, and that the direction society was headed in the last century, has changed. people no longer scream out, “hey fatty!” to strangers and make fun of them. and that used to be a normal thing. there is less competition, and more collaboration. the larger part of society thrives on compassion, not cruelty. one bad president is not going to change that. he and his followers just think they are foxes being let loose in a hen house. what they don’t know, is that the hen house is in a lion’s den. what they don’t know, is that it takes more strength for kindness. and strength doesn’t tolerate cruelty. or maybe heart doesn’t tolerate it. i can’t find what i’m trying to say, here. but i guess what it is, or what i’m kind of saying, is that it comes down to you. to you. once i faced the probability of eternal torture carried out upon me by other humans, i realized that everything i did, and was, and spoke or thought…. needed to be MY choice. so that i could stand on it. i realized that what i did was important…. what you do is important…. because second chances aren’t going to happen if you are kept alive forever. if there is no rebirth, no heaven, no eventual paradise. only the possibility of constant pain delivered by the many to the few. that is what humans would use eternal life FOR. weilded by the powerful, onto the powerless. so that woke me up to an understanding…one that is hard to describe. but it gave me the realization that we didn’t have a lot of time to produce a kind society. if science marched along and discovers how to keep humans alive indefinitely, before enough norms are set to encourage kindness. to actually BREED kinder humans…. then we are headed for a REAL hell on earth. as in an actual screw each other for eternity. and i can’t allow that. i can’t allow the extent now, with millionaires gorging themselves while others in the world go hungry and die from hunger and thirst. that is just not acceptable. i don’t know how to scream loud enough, that that is not acceptable. i don’t know how to cry enough tears, and i don’t know how to fix the many that die and suffer until death, because selfish power is the only kind man has known. that point, when i realized how far man’s evil could take him…. i realized man needed to stop being evil. or we were all doomed. not for sins, or something intransient. but for the matter of contradicting our own existence. after i got done shrinking inside from complete fear of what could be done to me….. i rose. and i became afraid for what could be done to others. i SAW what was being done to others. and my heart has been breaking ever since. the trumpian age is definitely a set back. i have spent the last two weeks using spirit to do what is “good” for me. even felt good, and like i finally get to stop shooting myself in the foot for the knowledge of how the bullet feels. but then, i get the impact of why that attitude or way of life is not a good one. even if you are doing everything that is right for you, and seems to be hurting no others. because it divorces you from your empathy. and then your own excellence can become the wedge driven between yourself and fellow human beings. so it is important for me to be a failure, to be a slob once in awhile, to be exposed to temptations even if i don’t fall to them. to shoot myself in the foot and find a little shame in the person that i am. that’s important, that’s a necessary thing. i can’t always choose the right path, because i don’t know how to do that without distancing myself from everything that i love. everyone that i love. i would create too much change. everything that humans should be doing right for themselves…. and it’s a lot. and that distancing is what makes me go into psychosis…. which i have often wondered what it would be like if others did not become afraid of me and instead allowed it to progress and play out. i’ve wondered. but the thing is, that i know this big long, crazy paragraph, looks…. crazy. i know that. but the fact is, i don’t care. what i care about is that i’m letting myself know that i’ve done my best. that i hope God knows, at least. that i really would like to continue doing what is best for me, not quantifying what is needed in more information on why others do the things they do. i want to call the world of humanity a lost cause. this culture a piece of sh* t of irredeemable proportions. i wasn’t too say f* ck it, because how can you fight for kindness when the most popular movement of the day becomes something like trump-rallies yelling “lock her up!” do they even know how bad that makes them? i don’t know if they even know what they have done. all i know is that i see no way to change what made them open to that. because it is a part of them. they did not question where they were being lead, and only followed. they divorced themselves from empathy, and crowed in delight over their freedom to abuse others, to gang up and abuse. and i can’t believe my country has done this, i’m in shock and am still in shock that this must have been under the surface all the time. i don’t know how to feel safe, if being part of this country means i am a part of THAT. mob justice, crowd mentality for mass cruelty. you might as well start having dayime shows where you have live torture, humans ripped up and people torn to shreds for your pleasure. your cover is blown. have showed the type of people you really are. the country you are. i’m not ashamed of you…. i’m horrified. and it’s difficult to rise from that, to know what you are and continue on. it’s hard to not look at my own life, and think “all that work and sacrifice for nothing.” it’s hard for me to decide where or how did i set my gauge for worthiness in the forest place? it was so long ago… too ingrained for me to change what i know as bad into some kind of perceptual good. can’t even put rose colored glasses on this one. the trumpians with their bad bad group actions and screaming hatred are something out of a nightmare. and they took over our country. but they can’t make me one of them. i will divorce myself from empathy, first. i will remove every good i ever thought possible for this country, and care only about myself. i’ll let you walk over that cliff, and not say one damn word. i’ll even create the cliffs, so i can laugh at my superiority. and see, that’s what trump did. the trump university is one of those cliffs. building casinos is another. so i already know where that path leads. nope, i will diminish into the west, and remain galadrial. but i’m going to stop shooting myself in the foot, and maybe God will allow it for a time and not drive me mad. maybe i can let go of being like everyone else, and do what is correct for me.

butterflies sit merrily

all my errors fall through burn holes in my clothing
how far does foreboding leave our hearts encased
in designs and desires of exact appraisal
left to gnaw on fires of yester-deigns
the slight of mind causing
all difference of cause

within too much effect
….

the unity of things is greater than we have stipulated in common understandings
matched along the way with pride that is overflowing
with undeserved consequence

the night drifting on an ash
dust the very thing
nobody arose
from

a bundled link to every chain
where locks are colors
(cloth are hopes for perception, melded)
and light is the blessing until
sleep demands a darkness

a silence

a dawn of importance that only lifts
once all veils are holy

once all matters are tested

and the only lack
is more time never fully correlates
to more deeds

perhaps one for the plot
under crows and flowers, gifted

the say is at the heart of being
and i do not fear destiny

only my inability to see greatness
in actions molded by inadequate parcels

by the stretch to some kind of light
and growth
when a whole is stagnant

burning inside pools of sorrow
unexplained
but for the need to govern
each and every tomorrow

with what the morrow-deigns
absolute(ly)
….. beautiful.

jealousies and worry-laden

part of having an innocent childhood
is being able to return there
(at need?)
a haven where wonder exists
the love of beauty

see
jealousy of those who are happy
also developed with scorn
because the assumption
was that we were dumber
and just happy from ignorance
it did not cross
the minds of the others
that intelligence
is what chose the path
of happiness (wonder dressed by imagination)
rather than the path of jealousies
and competition (hate dressed by inadequacy)

so there is a reason some parents
let their children be innocent
guarded that
did not fill children with their own
assumptions and disappointments
did not try to place them higher
in the rat race at the starting line

and you can return to that innocence
(in some ways)
find wonder when you need it
grasp the foundations of
life lived for joy, not
excellence

i think about others seeing it as a waste
and i laugh
my childhood delight bubbling to the surface

to find your own path,
no matter how small
from a start not imposed

upon

by adult stress(es)

we were the happy ones
ones that could run and be…
they were trapped in some kind of
prison for childhood souls
directions pertaining to
quotients in the degree of satisfaction for others

and to only have to satisfy the self… it was
strange to hear “i’m proud of you” from
a death bed.

the sharp realization that that was never needed…

she was my friend

not my coach for the rat race.

and i won from the start, because choice
is always better
when discovery is at the heart
in the heart

choice is something you don’t abandon
for despair
because it was yours all along

i think they can let their own
miseries
call it mental sickness… the inappropriate joy
and lift of everything wonderful

but the wrongs were childhoods without innocence
where adult ambition
overshadowed
little lives
making them different from my own

we weren’t just happier
we were smarter for choosing happiness

for letting them have their put-downs
and frowns
of what they thought was knowledge:
adult understandings placed in child minds
(warped by the simple nature of no room at the inn)

discovering my own has not been easy
but at least i can claim it, fully

at least i can say with a true heart
i would have given everything

completely when my all is to live
and hurt “beyond” reason

…THEIR reason!

that disdain or unconditional
parental surrender was a blessing

maybe i took my freedom
maybe so
maybe it is scorned mostly for
how it seems such a loser

i think about that and feel sorry only for
the waste
crying for the self never allowed
that is true
the one place where a foot was settled down squarely

but see
you know you were loved
when someone couldn’t stand to see you unhappy

and now
when i look at that love as knowledge
never passed down
never imposed

only the ways of unforgiveness
haunt this spectrum… dancing of light
existence
built by the uncompromising nature

of freedom.

the dead bird lies in my hand
…. i look down, continually baffled
by how it can be!
stunned by my condemnation of things

how can this be…
with the only grace, a hole
dirt placed back
…no tears,
because death is no place for crying

you cry for life
pain means you are alive
but for death
you march on with the living

i can see, now
how my seemingly careless form of happiness
annoyed the crap out of others
(still annoys?)

but you see, it made her glad
the only thing that could
when the sorrows of death shook her cage
so strongly
that she was the last
general
of her age

to bring a smile made me necessary

and i had to do that with my own joy
who couldn’t?

and that is the blessing of childhood
the building of innocence and love
the forward motion to undisputed construction of dreams…

where the rat races all stand still
still and still…

sadness the construct
of wants given rather than known,
lanes clogged with jealousies and worry-laden
humans

unaware of circles
plodded
unaware that mysteries in life are important
that new paths exist

only for those willing to discover
themselves wondering

where they lead

and brave enough
there is that

the baby bird that left the nest too early
dead in my hand…

if i cried over that
i would be crying for myself
that is the truth

i chose happiness
and a way to not be

duplicated