4.56639 I. Dog Chases Tale On God Lane. II. ...it burst, open, and now that I am covered in puss and blood, glandular secretions coming in floods, I find that I am growing, devouring myself until no longer I. RaKeB. Interplay. NaQaNaKeB. Aisles of illusion are on display, do you like my array? Chomping on Grit, Wallowing in Shit, Smiling for Decay? Gotta find a way to get away so we can stay... The only question that begs attention is this: how many deities are you willing to slay? III. All motion is division(so be still while I make this incision!). Troubled by your vision, or just unable to make a decision? Ascenscion and descenscion of alchymical fission in remission no longer, as the residue of annihilation becomes stronger. more pure, and the sheep are unsure about their salvation when they can hear the sounds coming from the slaughterhouse, rounds of screaming, bouts of expiring, around and about, around and about. IV. My law is not for you--- it is how I govern my self. Your law is a joke to me--- Thank you, for the laugh. NOW GET YOUR GOD DAMNED HANDS THE FUCK OFF OF ME! V. 3-2-1-0 The Triplicity Of Duality Is Singularly Nonexistant. VI. Elaboration to manifest explanation for a destination denies personal revelation. Truth is, the base element changes, appearence rearranges, No thing ranges Infinity, an affinity for serenity, a proclivity for the static perpetual motion, for, ever will one fail who rests all on one single notion, or collections of impressions, for all affection is aggression, a passive digression, a smile so sweet it tastes like poison, a life so real it does not feel a thing, but all things and no thing in circumambulating rings of ideas that sing into the void in hopes of recieving an answer, yea, in hopes of recieving an answer.
All the while I was reading this, I was thinking of metal music... But why 4.56639? *scratches her head*
You know I'm one of the few viewers in here that will tell you- why use a fifty cent word when two cents will do? You're blasting away with vocabulary but you're accomplishing little. Just a lot of gibberish. Go back to the drawing board, get out the eraser and make sure when you're finished that you're communicating something. And isn't that why we write?
Easy tiger, ya might not get it, but someone else might. Be careful with generalizations, I see no need for caustic remarks.
Kitten, the problem is- I do get it. And it's important for writers to recognize they have an audience. Caustic? I am, under great personal self-restraint, being civil.
Well, here, kidder-friend, let me relieve you of the burden of self-restraint: fuck you. Now, feel free to fire away at what it is that is so nonsensical, so assenine, such gibberingly maddening drivel, with absolute abandon, eh? You are not going to hurt my feelings, no matter the guise under which you assert your need to divide things. For No Thing is Always divided. And I rejoice! I make these statements, knowing that you do not understand, and urging you to do so by furthering your antagonism of this piece. Now, those statements dovetail quite nicely with an explanation of this number: 4.56639 This number is a miscalculation on my part, of the problem: 1695/369. And 1695 was a miscalculation as well, of the sum of the numbers of my metaphilosophical emanation. So it was a miscalculation of a miscalculation. Yet, all of the numbers(4+5+6+6+3+9) add up to 33, A number that represents that most abbhorent but inevitable division. Now, as the point is seperating the 4 from the 56639 we could also take it as 5+6+6+3+9 = 29= 2+9= 11. Now, we can take 4 * 11 and we get 44. We could have taken 11 as 1+1 and 4 * 2 would have been 8. Yet 4 * 11 = 44 = 4+4 = 8. We could also have taken it as 4 * 29 = 116 = 1+1+6 = 8! So it was that this miscalculation of a miscalculation revealed to me this truth: The Illusion of Division is the Product of Miscalculation. But, even in the case of this gross error, The Divided Unite. And it is not just in the matter of pure number that this to me has been revealed. It is the sum of every occurence in my life. And it still ebbs and flows, spirals about itself, coalescing at will. And all this consideration of number seems farcically arbitrary to the skeptic. And so it would seem to me, if it were not for the experience that underlies and stretches beyond these considerations. Much Love
"Elaboration to manifest explanation, for a destination, denies personal revelation. Truth is, the base element changes, appearance rearranges. No thing ranges Infinity. An affinity for serenity, a proclivity for the static perpetual motion... Forever will one fail who rests all on one single notion, or a collection of impressions. All affection is aggression, a passive digression, a smile so sweet it tastes like poison; a life so real it does not feel a thing, but all things and no thing, in circumambulating rings of ideas that sing into the void... in hopes of receiving an answer, yea, in hopes of receiving an answer..." in asking we are cradled and naturally guided, to the nipple of direct experience.
I certainly like your line to line rearrangement, but I felt that this was such a blur of thought that it must be expressed in that amorphous spattering. Amorphous, because the shape of the paragraph will always change depending on or in what medium it is written, you know? Such is the appeal of paragraphs to me in such flowing streamlike thought processes. Though, I had meant for the last "answer" to be spaced and centered one line from the paragraph, on its own island. And I copied it in that way, but this board always fucks up shit like that, and whenever I try to correct it it just fucks it up worse... But it's cool. The "point" is never really in the arrangement of the words, or even the defined meaning of them. The "point" is an emanation from a star in a vast emptiness, piercing the eye of the mind, and the extension of that process. And, alas, is this not itself a mere description? Far from despairing that this phenomenon cannot be adequately expressed, I rejoice, for the expression is the essence of ecstacy, by virtue of its failure to satiate the hungry hole and the bottomless pit. mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. tasty. Much Love
Somethings increase in magnitude, as you grow closer, and some in complexity. My offering was simply communion. A recognition and willingness to reflect, to some degree, a common essence. One may say six is far from star, as lovers are from seventeen, but poetry has been an ageless secret. However, I may also remind the reader that stars come with multiple points; some formed by intersecting triangles. Six the number of man, what of woman, how about human? Is six a curving mirror image of nine or is it really a star of balance; holding a child within its heart. Much love to you
Ah, sweet mathematical serenade. It is all of the interplay of One and Zero. As if, we were off to see the wizard, eh? I say that this is a lovely day for a promenade around the burning bush with a cup full of lemonade. Sour grapes? Makes great wine! MmmmHmmm, form the vine that it is the vein of my divinely insane inspiration, that madness that is a revelation for those of us with no destination. Hahahaha, destiny! Destiny? Let me say that again: HA HA HA HA! Much Love
It's like the hand outs for we to read on a sunday morning, when the comics don't get it due to the night befores libation in abundance, my little house I'm not educated enough to measure in feet, I know it as just a little house down on the corner of hard place, and rock street.......... Alway's a pleasure Rommi "), Devon Knight / Icurus ~
KittenX, just a question for you. Is that Portishead that you are qouting. "I've got nobody on my side and surely that ain't right"
