Felt-tip fealty
Stolen obscenities
Mistake a meme for a movement
Relace the seam with dissolvable stitches
Rebuild atop a crumbling foundation
Division as salvation
Rebrand sickness as entertainment
Zero sum inversion
Decaying recursion
Garbage in, garbage out
Beat that drum
Run back to what you knew
For four long years you’ve wanted to
I’ll choke down all that might have been
And spit out what you’re accustomed to

Welcome to the worlds first social media state

Sure, you may tag me; but, I am remain uncategorizable. Feel free to holler as the wind claps back should any feel they’ve caught me in one.

There are compression limitations to my story and the whole thing is a wash if it ain’t all decoded at once. This algorithm ain’t built for partial assembly and all kinds of artifacts creep in.

Empty words or hollow eyes?

Permamounting a defense for your unobserved life is exhausting.

I wonder how many code phrases there are for fuck you.

Mindfulness is totally having that quick retort at hand that only ever shows up later, choking down a sudden jolt of jubilation, and choosing restraint as the best representation of yourself.

My use of the word breathing refers to doing so deeply and slowly enough that your fight or flight response gives up entirely on a quick turnaround for all that oxygen. So it’s fight, flight, or give up… really. Score another under appreciated point for giving up.

I mean, come on… without him, I’d be where?

By creating a pseudo permanent fight or flight state, one’s own ability to understand and empathize with surroundings parties becomes dormant, for we always fight or fly alone.

I wonder how quantum algebra works.

How much scientific faith would be lost if we removed all the clearly unrelated side effects? I promise my loss of appetite is not from cannabis consumption (let the figmented reader feel free to correct this assumption).

Sometimes you must choose between understanding your world and being correct with your current model.

The wilting has started

A room with dead wallflowers feels different.

You can’t always get what you need; but, if you try some times you get what you want.

If you happen across someone locked in a closet, try asking them if they might like to see the outside and observe how they react.

If you keep someone locked up in a closet for four years, letting them out looks like mania.

I always forget that there is no there there.

Don’t let confirmation bias rush your judgement.

The contagious yawn must just feel good because I am breathing through those cues too (just for shits and giggles).

How the beginning of the end ended

How the end of the beginning started

The Philadelphia Bulldogs seem to be having a day.

Side note: I remember Master Choi. He got a kick out of me catching the guy in the nose that was testing me for my first degree black belt and drawing first blood. The image on Wikipedia is probably some thirty years after that happened.