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current6:47am saturday, 28th june
i am a current that jumps and courses through the universe
swimming through the chemistries of sensation
i am victorious over time but its claws dug deep
is it the curse of the warrior always to dream of peace?
i brush aside the veil of the world and there is such light
the graveyard of galaxies, where fire begins and ends
we on this ground sculpted with unyielding clay
and above is a void that resounds of victory to come
to learn the art of the amazing and breathe stratospheric
as a single raindrop falls through the infinite void
to return to the source of all motion, in silence

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Insurance12:26am saturday, 21st june
There’s this TV commercial that really gets my goat. It’s for State Farm insurance. This guy and his kid have just rear ended this other guy, who happens to have State Farm insurance. You can tell because he sings the jingle, “like a good neighbor, State Farm is there”, whereupon out of the blue his agent appears and says, “You’re covered, Kevin.” (I think it’s Kevin — not important.) And then the other guy says something like “I have blah blah insurance so person come help.” Whereupon an elderly woman appears along with part of a kitchen wall, where she’s talking on the phone. The kid goes something like, “Hey grandma,” and tugging on his dad’s shirt, “Look who it is.” The grandma says, “Six callers ahead of us, Jimmy.” And this is where I get angry: the guy goes, “You’re not helping!” WTF? She’s taking time out of her day to call the insurance company that YOU picked, and staying on the line for 6 more callers, and you have the friggin’ nerve to say she’s not helping?!? Screw you, pal. And State Farm. (And now I feel better.)
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climb2:01am sunday, 15th june
the alchemy in the drops of smoke and solidity is the mixture of the dream
for i have not dreamed, except that it flowed through me to where it needed go
i feel the burning of time passing, creation a phoenix each second’s tick
o protector who guides me on my path, let me not think you turn away lightly
the moonlight pale sings solemn the tune of measured light, of distant hope
the numbers conspire to be ordinary, hiding the flows of fate
the many visions of God each hide the depths, show only the surfaces
suddenly everything is so very small, the very concepts inconsequential
i shall ponder the quiet while i am in the middle of the wasteland
i return to the smoke where the phoenix in ashes readies to rise again
o protector who guides me on my path, i become the fire that burned the bush
and the voice that said this is holy ground: i climb the words to heaven

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Happiness4:30am friday, 13th june
I have just recently realized that writing makes me happy. I recall the days putting down on paper (if electronic) the book, how blissful was my existence. I considered it my reward for a job well done, there in my visions (which inspired the writing in the first place). But even now, as I put down these words, I enter a sort of trance state, and I forget all else but the stream of structured thought which comes down as words, sprinkled into shape. When I graduated college I had thought I would be a writer, despite my computer science degree, but the meds I was on prevented me from writing (or reading!) for more than a half an hour at a time. I’d get antsy. And now, if by chance I might get off my meds, I must discover what I could put this talent towards. I am a child of destiny, and I try to follow the lines of what is meant to be; perhaps something will come up. Cheers!
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Healing4:06am tuesday, 10th june
There have been hints. From my visions, the idea that the visions will go away. The last time I thought this was just before the Event hit me full force. I stopped taking my meds because I thought it all was going to go away. Funny story: at one point it sort of did, and I woke up alone alone. But with weirdness. Turns out it was a practical joke. My thoughts twisted, as if wrapped around a sort of horror, though it stopped short of really being horrible. I also felt like I only had half a mind (turns out the visions were merely shunted off, that they were just out of the way, and not gone). So I called out, in my mind, and the angel Gabriel, Joan of Arc, and Michael the archangel show up. Michael shouts, “Pornography has twisted your mind!” A couple times, couldn’t “get” what he was saying immediately. Heh. Then I realized that they were a funnin’ me. Yes, angels have a sense of humor.

So right now, there is the idea that I will be “whole” again, and not split in twain (the “schism” in “schizophrenia”). That I may be sewn back up, and not leak into the astral plain. This time, the people in my visions advise not to get off my meds until several days after I appear to myself to be completely healed. I also when I get off those meds break my allergy/cold medication addiction. Yeah, it’s a small thing, but God is a God of small things. Like sparrowfall. Stay tuned, true believers.

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i walk on7:36pm monday, 2nd june
i walk on by the light of the Resurrection
i am he who sleeps by the side of the rush
the mirror upon my breathing reveals secret song
(within the calendar are wheels within wheels
eternity being a whisper carrying beyond breezes)
i will aim at the narrow way that the shadows fear
and have within myself all heaven’s treasure
inklings of the infinite where i am meant to be
even if my love is merely a disembodied pain
i am meant to believe, past thresholds of thought
for the number of my faith is seven minus seven
as the miracles land and then they fly away
but doubt cannot wipe away their scribbles of joy
as dawn awakes the colors dormant in night
and time is a dream that imagines every change
(within the calendar are wheels within wheels
eternity being a whisper carrying beyond breezes)
some lights do not come and go by time’s rhythm
much can speed by that needs no attention
the light of the Resurrection watched by the blood

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