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Sunday, May 27, 2012

Thoughts of the Collective Self


Explanation of Three Part Work:
Thoughts of the Collective Self

This writing is made to be a view into the thought process of someone who looks at humanity for all its faults and all its beauty, seeing how first how people realize their devotion required to others, their obligation to them and eventually their own realization of the meaning of it all, which verifies the first two realizations. The narrator is the internal dialogue of the person in their thoughts as they are dreaming for hope and reason in life eventually finding truths inherent in simply being alive.

The narrative is driven by the thoughts of one continually driven to find a greater more unifying meaning to it all, that in purely reason based emotional argumentation can prove through logic itself why those smarter and greater than them are ultimately obligated to devote their resources to a greater good.

The narrator's thought process is actually an allegory for humanity itself, using statements that on an individual level and a group level are non-contradictory and ultimately have the same meaning. The ultimate take away is that perfection itself in mind the representation and the individual manifestation of genius is the realization that if a statement is fundamentally perfect everyone must collectively agree on it as being true. The idea then is that the narrator is a genius and they become ever closer to the collective intelligence of humanity itself when they find collective, universal truths among us all that are ultimately non-contradictory for both the narrator and also everyone else.


I: Devotion
You sacrificed your time, your efforts the energy in your bones so I could breathe.
Life from those fingers with energy you gave to me bound in promises and hope for me.
To dream as if you could always dream the way I could be.
Sacrifices I cherish like the air I breathe.

You taught me there's greater things than just me for there always exists inside, myself and a cause.
Nothing could be as inseparable as a life with a purpose and a life with a point to live by.
For we're both as rich and full as the promises we keep and ourselves we keep the promises inside.
That doesn't mean you ever pray, for we're still ultimately alone but what we're worth.

If I told you how you ever felt so free, would you question how we could ever be so bound?
To these obligations and promises we place on ourselves to each other and also to ourselves.
Lost ones are never free and free ones are never lost.
For as soon as we show our worth we are required to give to others all that we are.

In this the greatest are the ones which never are anything other for they can never not be.
People question how they could find such grace, character or brilliance and they wonder.
Though honestly if they haven't reached greatness they haven't wondered enough.
For trial by fire is very much trial by pain and one must work if they are ever to reap.

II: Obligation
In this we are bound by not just what we do but what we dream we can do and eventually become.
For if you can see it you can do it and in seeing greatness you are chosen by it and you are indentured to its service.
Success is then not a test it's a way of life for those that follow its favor.
In this we are bound by what we do and also what we don't do.
We eventually become more like then what we choose and what we never choose we are forgotten by.

III: Realization
Brilliance then is the nature of knowing all we know and forgetting all we never had a chance to.
Then the only way to know anything at all is to know others as deeply as possible and ourselves as well.
Then truly if one can look into a mirror and see not just themselves but a part of everyone they've ever known and believed in they know they are truly wise.
In this the only bounds of genius are how much you understand the truth and beauty of those around you and also the truth and beauty reflected in yourself.
This is why the greatest people in humanity have never ceased busying themselves and learning, not because they are limited by their brilliance but because they are limited by their time to be.
And this is why if an idea can save not just you but also others, you have effectively brought salvation on people themselves.
Though I'm being too optimistic because it's not the idea that saves people, it's good people using the idea for the greater good.
In this no idea is ever perfect as anything anyone believes at any time can be used to take advantage of others.
For we are masters of the tools we create to save us and also pawns.
As the more powerful the weapon used the greater advantage one has to subjugate another or to set them free.
I fear for the future, not because we are doomed by it but because we are doomed or liberated by the ones that control it.
I don't believe great people are also wealthy people though I believe wealthy people can become great through using what they have to help the poor.
I think the wealthier someone is more the greatest obligation they have is to help the poor if not for themselves but for humanity itself.
If humanity needs the greatest of us to lead it how then should we be bound by not our possessions but by only our brilliance?
This is why I feel technology can save the world and is probably the only thing that could, because the smarter someone becomes the greater they become to others.
Then our denominator for intelligence is by the creativity someone uses to turn possessions into power and also ultimately their heart is determined by how that power gained ceases to consume their continued devotion to others. Genius is determined then by how someone balances their life in the eyes of others from what they leave behind and its ultimate impact on people when they're gone.


Friday, May 25, 2012

She Made Him Dream

She took me by a dream.
One that shook me until I lost sight of anything but her beauty.
The way she made me feel, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't divine.
I watched her face smiling at me in a crowd, until I found such peace in being noticed by her.
Transfixed by such a stare, I found astonishment in her joy and her resilience.
So it was like I fell into something like a trance and I dreamed of things of awe.
You thought of all the ways we'd grow old together as me the master of my dream could muster.
For her I'd lose sight of everything, then find myself together again with her in a better place.
It would be like coming out of a daze, when instead of being lost I'd find myself among friends.
Bewildered by the company of such wonderful people I'd ask myself how I could have been so blessed.

I spend my days picking daffodils from riddles, numbers and logic people string together like mirages in the desert sand trying so desperately to believe they're worth more than gods or mammoths at that.
Thinking their imagination could create colossus from numbers and skyscrapers in brilliance from.
I make powerful ones more powerful though still I dream of her, like a child who never found their way with a beautiful hand to hold.
For yes even this is a daze my angel, the beautiful one I know when I shut my eyes and still dream of sunshine on ocean-top.
I tell myself there's no place I'd rather be and I know I'm right.

It's funny the stories we tell ourselves to keep from getting old.
Where grown men find comfort in adventure and hope, with women believing in fairy tale and faith.
Intertwined between the narrowed paths we walk together we find ourselves eventually walking the same road.
For her I'd pick daffodils forever, knowing honestly I don't believe in such outlandish things.
Because when we're knocked down to the bitter depths or when we're elevated to the loftiest heights,
We will have each other and that's all that we have.
I'd be lying if I told myself there wasn't any other way to live.
For in love you find the greatest blessing of all and in this you find life itself.
There is nothing that could ever be greater and nothing that could ever be great.
I think that's why we dream when we know it's just that a dream.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

To a Woman

You believe in beauty.
The kind of inspiration that causes good people to become great, you believe in.
The ability for lost people to find themselves in absolute joy and prosperity you believe in.
For stumbling though we do among our worries and troubles we press on and believe.
If not for the hardships of us all it is the triumphs we have every single day.
Even the little things we struggle for and achieve that is great itself because we did it.
Love you believe in because without it we are doomed to be alone and weary in our malcontent.
You believe in joy because you know the greatest of us all are happiest for they are lifted by their own existence as the people around them hoist them on their shoulders.
Kindness you believe in because it’s like a river that flows beneath us as dedication beneath our skin.
You believe in compassion for without it we could never care for people which are invaluable and priceless.
Happiness you love like warmth that holds us in comfort more than anything which could make us fear.
You write because you believe that in feeling as we are we express what we believe through it.
You love as I believe that’s the greatest way we can ever show we care about others and also ourselves.
I told myself one day I’d have everything I ever wanted and I never stopped believing.
Sometimes as is the case with people like me it takes longer because I want so much.
Someday I’ll have it and I’ll love it because I knew it would be as great as I knew it was.
In this you smile not because I’m there yet but because it’s inevitable.
For her I love and for her I’d never forget to love again.
In this she’s more beautiful than what I myself believe in.
For I’ll know it’s love when every day I can’t understand how happy she makes me feel except that I can never let her be forgotten by me.
I think that’s the secret to love really, it’s that you’d live your life to be complicated and confused by it.
In this you are always struggling because you can’t understand why you are so always happy except you are.
I don’t think there’s anything else I’d ever want or have ever wanted.
And I don’t think I’ll ever not be confused by its beauty.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The Worth of Life

You dreamed it like a day you knew so well as a child.
The moment you'd set sail and pierce the skies.
Like you'd reach for some god that never could touch me.
Reaching radiant dawn you find this is what it means to be inspired.
Not through loftiness of ambition itself without kind gesture left lost.
You find that the beauty of the divine is in us all not through god.
It's in the good way we treat each other, kind gestures and giving hearts.
The ability to give your dreams to another to watch their hopes grow.
That is more admirable than indomitable passion wrought.
When truly our sacrifice is thought of as divine inspired is error.
For one day we realize that the capacity to care is greater than law.
When not some preacher on some pulpit could convince us otherwise.
Kindness is greater than ourselves and greater than who we wish to be.
For love is the endearing passion of us all and nothing is greater than life which carries it.
Life itself is not that which does not need love to be greater than itself.
Truly love is what inspires life to inspire itself and life lives to crave it vehemently.
Not with negativity though with a fervor to pierce the audacity of living things.
Convincing us to race for grace and also what passionately drives us like will itself.
As our dreams crack like whips and drums against the circumstance and situations we see ourselves in.
For all to see and be inspired not just through the fervor of it all also the passion and dedication.
Verily I implore you to ask whether or not the lives which step with us on the roads we walk with them not bend in favor of us if we inspire them to dream and also to love more among us all?
Those which make it through to live another day life caters to if they give back more than their pain and hardship causes them to carry. Ask what words could cause witness to the gestures of the beautiful and courageous and also causes them to articulate like divine.
For when the hardships become too arduous for our strength to carry our friends and families will carry the burden if we show them we're worth being loved over the weights we carry.
In this as others are willing to sacrifice to remove our burdens for us we see from their difficulty and also their belief we are worth the pain for others to find the beauty.
In this there is no greater gift and there is nothing which could ever be more divine.


Sunday, May 13, 2012

The Onlooker and the Prestigious One

You watched their dreams.
They marched as numbers down the confines of their walls.
Piecing together meanings and moments down from where they came.
Finding some kind of reason to it all in numeric banter.

You are puzzled you understand like some misguided astronaut in spaces not in space you know.
Trying to grab some sense of it all yet clutching at things that all fall together and fall like sand in between your fingers.
Hands that grasp for some kind of reason in it all and come up defenseless and with no leverage.
Take comfort in the fact all is not lost, for hands that reach can also embrace and are alive.
Boundless effortlessly free and wound like the dreams we reach for as the world moves around us.
Giving all that we so desire though giving all we desire.
Making our skin and ourselves into illusion the very illusion we do not have.
As we find comfort in truth and the lies we tell ourselves to carry on.
When all we ever knew and have known is all that we ever were.
This is how tragic men find peace in their pain if not for joy then for lying about our sorrow.
In this we come full circle and become as we are and who we see ourselves to be.
For there are two ways we see ourselves, one is the way we actually are and the other is the way we see ourselves to be.
For this we are liars and truth tellers though we see ourselves to never be wrong to others if we only really lie to ourselves.
Which in the end of the lie we find we've only truly been hurting ourselves.
For this the dishonest one is only held in contempt if they lash out at others with their lies.
This is how we learn to forgive and also hold our fears inside appropriately.
We realize our wrongs and our lies can only be harmful if we lie about them.
For this as they will one day dream will finally set them free.
On that day they will cry for all they've known and all they haven't.

Friday, May 11, 2012

The Triumphant

You've come curiously close to the end of this quest and hardship.
The peak of all you've ever seen from where and what you've wanted.
You've been whipped by time and circumstances.
Clutching at skies for favors when really it's been my friends to help me.
Someday you'll cry for what I've been through and had to overcome.
Knowingly you've been scared of what I've had and I continue to have to do.
I walk dark trails while writing and hoping of such greater places.
When really it's the triumphs which make it all worth it unconditionally.
To dream you've stepped unburdened by where I know I'll step from.
In some ways I'm scared to remember what it has taken and continues to take.
Though honestly I'll spend my life remembering all the struggles and smile.
For not for hardships and pain could I ever be modest or could I be as kind.
When really our suffering is ultimately what keeps us sensitive to the pain of others.
As we're all in this together and rightfully so we need what others can give us.
When remembering that we never take more than anyone can willingly give.
We appreciate the joy that comes with living each day as a gift.
Honored by the capability to have such opportunity and such happiness.
Love that is received over and over again by those which unconditionally care.
I think love is why I am so thankful for no height of god nor depth of darkness could hide it.
When really it's neither god nor villain that made us who we are today.
For some people spend years figuring out that we truly have each other and that is all.
It's those which praise and raise your virtues on their shoulders who you cherish.
For you would disappear without them and their respect and adoration for you.
We are truly as others see us as and we become as they reveal us to be.
As in their eyes we become glorious not through ourselves, through their love.
We show them we love them by spending our lives devoted to their lives.
In this we can not do wrong as truly great people are those which treat others as great.
For no other way can we show another we care than by caring for them with all we are.
This is why I'm not afraid to stand on a peak and be not afraid to fall.
As so many great people have seen me to be who I want to become.
In this I am as they wish me to be as I wouldn't be myself if I was any different.
For this is why I struggle and this is why I triumph.
No other revelation could be as sweet as this.

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

An Aspiring Author

You dream of everything I knew.
Though everything I knew is forgotten.
From what we never knew.

Lies they blot out lies.
Convincing us there's graceless eventuality.
When all we ever knew is mistaken.

We live for the first time when we realize what lies we've had.
Scared shitless like deer in headlights not knowing where we're going.
Just knowing that we're really screwed.

You think that's why we waste our hopes with drunken lies.
Convincing ourselves there's grace to follow after.
Though honestly we make grace ourselves.

Tell a friend that helps you, you're thankful.
Buy them a card or give them something meaningful.
Like a painting or a piece of art to show you appreciate them.
As you'd still be lost and fearful without their help.

Some people live through life not knowing the goodness in people.
They give favor like encouragement holding dollars for favors.
Never knowing that sometimes people care because they care.
We're all in this life together evidently.

Though you always have to show someone you're worth helping.
Knowing in their minds you'll appreciate it and give back later.
It's never right to forget the people which help you be helped.

You think that's what separates good people from greater people.
Good people thank those which help them greater people make them know how thankful they are.
I think one day I'm going to make my friends a monument of words and praises.
So they'll know how great I know them to be.
I'll call it thanks and be forgotten.
Not from what I am but from what I'm not.
For good people see the good in people and friends see how the good can be made better.
For the things we are not are not what make us good friends.
It's the things friends know to be good about us and see every single day.
For that is why you always unconditionally appreciate the good people in your life.
They see you for who you are and know you to be worth knowing in their lives as a friend.
For that money can never buy and that is a gift which is priceless.

I'm making my friends something great in my life and it may be a book someday to write for them.

Saturday, May 5, 2012

An Ode to Women

An Ode to Women

From where she ran she knew.
Not all roads are wrapped among her.
Twisting kaleidoscope eyes.
I never quite knew her colors.

Though when she kisses me.
I feel like everything's grinning.
For not even skies could turn on me.
Never could the path be narrow.

For everything seems greatly given.
Not even mystery could hold such grace.
When her arms wrap around me.
I fall into a permanent grandeur.

Yet she's like a fickle canvas.
That never knew what color to be.
For when you give her all you have.
You realize you never have enough to give.

Such is the path of paths forgotten.
Down roads we walk in mysteries forgotten.
Never to sing a song worth singing.
When every word shows up empty.

And you, I'd give her whatever I have to give.
Understanding I have just word and song.
Not one of which could see me through.
When all I have is a mystery forgotten.

Kaleidoscope eyes she whispers.
Don't have a color but what they need.
Love what way I reveal myself to you.
Then forget you never knew me at all.

I think that's why I know her well.
Because I've never been one to stay you knew.
For that is why she never showed me.
Who she really claims to be.

I find comfort in her unexplainable.
As I am one that doesn't even understand myself.
That is why she explains me every moment.
As I find more of who I want to be.

To think the woman is but a myth is more a lie than a god ever was.
As god themselves can't impart such wonder that she has and will do.
I think that's why we lie to ourselves when in actuality we're the only truth.
That anyone anywhere ever needed to explain their purpose.

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

I Made Her Sand Castles

I want to give you sand castles.
Made from kindness and love.
Knowing that when they fall.
I'd build anew my love for you.

When I'd watch you hold onto it, you'd joyfully laugh.
I'd tell you things crumbled made again are more beautiful.
Like the way I see you struggle just to rise above.
Falling into pieces down on your luck.
Wondering why life can be so barren.
To those which praise her reverently.

You see too the pattern of dreaming song.
Words you sing to remember the way they felt.
When they once meant more than they do now.
Like you find melodies to remember why you sang at all.

Why can't we dream forever?
That we can just make sand castles.
And then make cities from their walls.
Raising triumphs of civilization.
Ones we reach for to find majesty.
When all we ever had is ephemeral.
Like a life that disappears into a sea of life.
When only bubbles remind us of where we've been.

Trailing life you run so effortlessly free.
Like a hope chasing after that which makes it hope.
Giving what you reach for ever so giving.
Like a dream that never knew it didn't exist.
Though knowing it feels all the same in the moment.
Like forgetting people can't fly like birds.
When all we reach for is the open beyond.

I know how you mutter, clutching obscenity and hope yet still keeping audacity by your side.
Like a saint with nothing good to say though questioning whether you need to speak at all.
While cynical to all you've done when everything seems to fall in fluttering circles.
Never seem to reach the root of what causes words to seem to sail on hearts which reach like what you choose to think. Though thinking it's rather delirious to think that words could sail in the first place.
Though everybody has a heart that which they know pumps life through skin.
Never to question that a black heart which is cold would never be of a living person anyway.
Such frivolous words to think for life itself is sacred to those which watch her fight.
Maybe there's hope for us yet?
You kind of think otherwise though I'd be lying if you say there's nothing left but sand castles.
Though I kind of think even those will disappear.