Spies Of Pattern (This Is Now Understood)

 

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Salvaldor Dali

 

Who should I call? Is someone still awake? ‘Is Anybody Out There’ proclaims the cry that echoes the deepest caves of living. Maybe I could call my best friend or my sister who understood the story from the middle towards the end and backward at the beginning. After all, such a surprise of unannounced alerts beckons at my heart.

Once it is all said, and done; eye envisions a ghost with a weapon. With the last bullets in their machine, they could indeed annihilate my insecurity. But the question has to be asked: Are these the same bullets, of what killed the physical life, to begin with, and created the ghost?
I’ve seen it in the blame and discourse of planted dreams, which sought to arouse a response. Ever so closely, desiring an explanation that fits what was perceived. I’m speaking about ‘Spies Of Pattern’, those things which looked into the corner of expression, which detects the motion of cheating.
They really care, and the care alone; prompts an even more subtle and daring taunt. IF the spies care, shouldn’t you grant the mere eloquence of your ‘Once Known Youthfulness and Honesty?’ Remember now, “the way you once were, before the DARKNESS of DOUBTS and INSECURITIES arrested you”. Says The Spy!
The blessings and confidence that motivates the spy’s heart, to reckon with the magnitude of negativity, really astounds me. As I read the lines of what is presented ‘Frank’ to me, I can’t help but think of my once owned pattern.
My words are addressed to YOU ‘Spy Of Pattern.‘ When was the last time you felt the texture and groove scope your very feet and fingers? I remember when I danced upon its detail. I became so annoyed at its combination of acts and tendencies. I had to respond, and when I did, I made sure I reflected on how sorry and hurt I was that it happen again! DAMNED, repetition, it qualified in me the character of apologetic functions that missed the foundation.
DON’T YOU REMEMBER? JUNE, NOVEMBER, THOSE RETURNING DAYS OF RECOGNITION? WHAT IS SO WRONG WITH SORRY ANYWAYS?

SO here you are, in the same position; I’ve had my turn, now you have given your rendition. God who created the universe has an amazing class, we all belong to; some of us are still sleep in the egg of unconsciousness, but I am a part of a rebirth now.This writing started exactly, a week ago. I had no idea at the time what I was writing, but in light of what just happen; I am indeed aware! AND Am able to finish it.

I’m no longer hanging on the edges of a proposition. Surely; I have heard your dreams, and have tasted the words of your honest emotions. They came in a very late time over here, I responded once, to what appeared to be your Father. Soon after; messages came to me, back to back, begging the notion of ‘If I dare’.

“It should not take a series of weeping therapy sessions, to arrange the need for counsel.” I would say! We have been here; more commonly in the ghost state of our existence. When our life was physical only a couple of months ago, we looked into our own eyes and started the quest for logic and place of love and understanding. The difference? Well, this last time, was indeed the last time.

I’m passed the intimidation of a video, recurring dreams, or even a message that exemplified the honest feeling of your heart. We had our closure, and I’ll save your time and my will to explain your careful accusations against me. I’ve already explained who I am, In fact; the nature of my being seemed unable for you to accept; which explains the reason I left. If you rather hunt and track me because of a dream, maybe you are the one who is still truly sleeping? I could answer the various lines which are corrupted and seemingly used to catch me in the snare of the pattern.
I could make another video and explain this message, and I could simply start where you left off. I’m choosing to send out this writing as it testifies of what my eyes have seen before. Words are the HOPE which motivates our silence, that they there are indeed many characters out there enough to fill the space and void.
LOVE INTERRUPTION
I want love
To roll me over slowly
stick a knife inside me,
and twist it all around.I want love to
grab my fingers gently
slam them in a doorway
put my face into the ground.I want love to
murder my own mother
and take her off to somewhere
like hell or up above.

I want love to
change my friends to enemies,
change my friends to enemies
and show me how it’s all my fault.

I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me x 2
Yeah, I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt, or interrupt me anymore.

I want love to
walk right up and bite me
grab a hold of me and fight me
leave me dying on the ground.

And I want love to
split my mouth wide open and
cover up my ears,
and never let me hear a sound.

I want love to,
forget that you offended me
or how you have defended me,
when everybody tore me down.

Yeah I want love to
change my friends to enemies,
change my friends to enemies
and show me how it’s all my fault.

Yeah I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me
I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt or interrupt me
I won’t let love disrupt, corrupt, or interrupt me anymore.
When Jack White wrote these lyrics, he explained it summarized what love made people do. It was the idea of love getting in itself, Love is not as simple as girl meets boy, and how boy loves a girl. OR even the purpose behind two individuals. If we are going to think about love. We need to look at how we sabotage ourselves and hurt ourselves. If we want love so much, why do we do what we do to hurt each other? Since love has been mentioned for since the dawning of time; our beings are attracted to it. AND, to Jack White, (AND myself I might add) This song answers it. He goes on to say, PEOPLE who are hurting you, there is love behind it. Whether it is a love of themselves, or they don’t know how to express it, it could be unrecorded love. BUT it’s love behind it…I need not answer the accusation of insecurity. doubt, disparity, or anything of the sort. Since it does not matter whether I delete the messages, or even reply to every medium that was given to me…I find the bait of its detail to be very charming but so surprising at the same time. It’s amazing how I was picked up on this before it even began, I really thank God for purpose and a song that could not be a better voice to what was spoken.

The last lines of this song are my answer.

As for the unknown, what was uniformly known, NOW is the woe of remembrance! These selective slices of infinity, uniformly seek a position. I’ve given it rest.

 

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