Through A Sense of Revival

Through A Sense of Revival

On The Express Train. Cause – I’m rejuvenated. By a sense of revival. I feel it deep in my toes. I’m curling up again. Beginning to blush. Feeling the rush but I’m shy by the awakening. I feel like a young boy at the altar. I feel the fans sweeping against my face. I’m sweating. Through a sense of revival, I have become the reviver. I have renewed again by the steps set before me. I know I have to keep pushing and going after what awaits me.

I feel goosebumps crawling over me; it’s making me weep. Now I’m feeling weak. My eyes are closed yet my eyes see very bright lights. Tongues are likened to fire. Many of them are speaking; I recognize some of them but many of them sound misguided.

When looking around – I hear voices of change intending to manifest a revolution. Everyone is fierce with fire to bring about a realm of difference. A change is gonna come, a new way of living. Curiously, I wonder how will anything ever happen? Seeds are being planted, but the gardeners take a vacation soon afterward. People are not always responsible for the seeds they plant. They trust too easily in the unknown process. They hope it will rain and hope the sun will shine but have no clear knowledge of whether the soil is fertile enough.

Everywhere you go, people are saying this and saying that. A lot of them are saying it because they heard someone else say the same or similar things.

People usually reflect the environment they are raised to believe as valid. People are usually just believing until they experience a difference. People have to understand themselves before they can understand others. People like to do things then do nothing at all. People like to stand silent while someone else talks. People are kept with their traditions and are stubborn to believe otherwise. People want change but fail to acknowledge the mirror. People consume a lot of toxic things and believe they are being informed by those toxic things. People forget people remember. People are always doing something and nothing at all.

When I turn the knob, a room full of mystery awaits me. The unknown is carried with a promise of greater and lesser. The signal is clear and my understanding has been renewed.

Being brought back to life – I’m the reviver of chance. Words are translating into symbols – interpretation is gaining awareness of the game. A game that involves worthy cards which are shuffled at the will of the joke. I’m still the Jester – and with witticisms, I am free to possess the cards of chance. I know what is about to happen, no need to explain – only to perform. If I was to tell myself the very thing my dreams made clear – I’d have to lucidly experience my waking point.

To experience the very things I see as symbols. To encrypt the door of mystery is to decode all of the steps in a blur. The veil of the unknown is all I can see. I only know what has been invisibly sent out. Clues have become the aroma of my disappearance. Within the cancellation of presence is only a renewal of vision. My spirit is not limited by gravity – for I can not come down.

I’m seeing 7 – no matter where I look. I am finding the recurring seven.

 

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The Stretch of Ultimately (RGB)

The Stretch of Ultimately (RGB)

Ultimately – who is poised to blame?

Ultimately – what is at the tissue?

Ultimately – where is the core?

Ultimately we arrive at variables independent of what you do or think. The motion of the unseen is what dictates the visible exercise.

Ultimately what we don’t know is slapped in the face by what we do know. What we do know is what we go with – this isn’t to deny what hasn’t been solved – but to only highlight the ultimate reality.

The degrees of RGB. The spectrum that allows multilayered light. Red, Green, and Blue // adding to the pallet to create many colors which differ from one another. When light is revealed – spectrums expand and we see kaleidoscopic variation.

Adding red to green yields yellow

Adding red to blue yields purple

Adding green to blue yields cyan

Adding all three primary colors together yields white.

So with color, there is perspective. There is a variation of opinion. With a mix of choice – there is a plural definition of understanding. People are often tossed in multiple color spectrums.

Ultimately extends its arm to reach the most final and conclusive argument. ULTIMATELY – is at the end begging to be acknowledged and seen for what it is. What really matters? What really comes full circle – what comes at the end is what really determines the Genesis.

Miraculous!

Breaking free from this dimension is being visited by statues in our dreams.

Statues carved with red lettering, something that stands out and begs for recognition.

It’s becoming abundantly clear we are engaged in this spirit realm by our opening hearts.

It’s really just about allowing ourselves to see how everything is connected.

Nothing is separated. Realizing our universal link enables us to become more and more fearless.

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The lettering captivates with such righteous thrill. Seeing all of these connections, and breathing the ways in which they link, fascinates the playful mind. I find myself constantly searching for the depth of a language to build a better understanding. I am beginning to see things as they are. And it’s fun because there is so much curiosity in the way things work.

I’ve been immersed in the miracle of how things are joined. Just simply seeing, how the universe is seen by specific mathematical coding. WHILE ALSO, along working with it, is the random and chaotic aspect. SO here we have two opposites of each other, working together and somehow creating a fluent language. It’s a war, and the conditions are extreme – but are never to the detriment. The relationship is a paradoxical one, due to the nature of its dichotomy. Look at it as a story or film, with a pivoting twist. A rushing Thriller! The contradiction at the beginning ends up affirming the stress.

It’s a lot going on right now! That’s what I’m just coming to terms with. I’m enjoying it, though! Especially since very important lessons are showing up and they are motivating me to take action. I have all of these doors openings, and I am just moving along with it. While in the process, it feels like this writing method here and making videos are ways of me sharing my lessons learned.

I swear I’m just sharing lessons from the classroom of life. There is no cheating involved, we all got the same answers just different questions. The homework ain’t so bad either. I always manage to do homework intentionally or unintentionally. 😀

Tower Girl

With each step, she climbed closer

Closer to her dream.

She built upon a climax that would grant her an entire KNEW language.

She noticed those who vocalize, with fervent concern.

They did not care but instead challenged the wonder of the mysterious Night.

She prophesies with great conviction, as the truth danced within her belly.

She heard the word from the divine one, as she anointed her lips as she became aware of her mission.

To not ponder on the disbelief, but to encourage a sense of magic which would awaken all a part of the trick.

It was not a trick of desperate attempts to blind one within the illusion, but a trick of a trip which brought ecstasy.

Many knew her as the Tower Girl, she climbed higher anytime one would listen as her summons called those who were considered least.

She did not mind the attire, nor colorless ambitions..it only allowed her more sensibility.

A prophetess of the night, with a light of those kept by the darkest memories.

A light that brought hope to those who wanted to make the world better.

She beckoned religion to strip its clothing of toxicity and division.

She noticed how many of the blind ones, stumbled on the rocks of desperation.

They really intended for some sign that would bring a course of direction.

She built on the molder and ROCKS Beneath them.

She felt the need to crush them, as the minerals would build upon the next.

GRACE Awakening

I woke UP extremely late with sticky dreams at the corner of my eyes! 

I could not wipe them, from the waterfall of cries!
 
Breakfast was set – the table-spread.
 
Still finding it hard to believe, I got out of bed! 
 
All in my head.
 
The blessing of grace still astounds – the most common dread! 
 
My sleep triples what it has made of visions of yesteryear.
 
Consciously the parades all around me, speak to me so sincere.
 
Therein the fixed theology of love – the question remains to bear this glove.

Y-ME/X (#Graph#)

DeathUnderneathThe Firement

When the act becomes pathological – it is then easier to carry out falsehood.

Concern begins to diminish and what was once an act of sorrow and remorse is now happiness and comfort.

There is no longer a lingering of turbulence, in fact, my character is unapologetic.

I once reflected like time indefinite.

I tried to catch the glass tiles; before they fell.

Without a smile, I asked if you can turn on the stereo.

I wanted to play this old song, about love.

At one time, I thought it was OK for us to communicate, but we simply have no identification with each other anymore.

It’s no longer that ‘Awkward’ silences which truly make it uncomfortable, rather the remembrance of our structure.

We simply forgot to water the plants that day and now the weeds have choked up the smallest hint of life which existed.

Allowing my alter-ego to take over only seemed justified when you no longer bore my true nature.

I couldn’t be true ‘REAL’ with you because there were too many questions.

No, we didn’t have to agree on everything, but we should not have to fight around the details of something.

The noise of my mask reiterates the gloom and ugly, you desperately ignored in our broken relationship.

Did I forget to tell you my name? My name is Y-Me – it is a name that carefully defines the function behind our pantomimed motives.

Why me?

Because you never liked being responsible for your actions.

You rather me but instead the motive behind me, crouches at your door! 

You will have to face it, in the final judgment.

But until then, I leave you a graph, I’ll leave it to you, to measure the axis and right angles.

Perhaps, you’ll define the variables in relation to your ‘X’.

I remember writing this almost a year ago, on the cracks of my relationship with X, and it came back to me, because of a similar manifestation I had recently. A lot of these words could be taken as a bit bitter, but I truly believe the graph will be marked. The house is dissolved, and the skeletons are given a new name!

Enlightened Pulchritude’s (Life of Pi)

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 Today, I watched the critically acclaimed ‘Life Of Pi’ quite fascinating story, that dealt with the supernatural. What it did for me, was awaken a sense of quest. We hear stories all the time, and we never truly think about the adventure that is the quest for truth.  We are given the answer, and which story do you prefer? The visuals and mystery within the story really compels a greater sense of search for me. Piscine Molitor “Pi” Pate, wasn’t afraid to go out while there was so much thunder outside. He wanted to reach out and combine the lightening of the universe. The supernatural is our identification to our eternal light.

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.

 

The Tiles Rebirth

Shifting tiles of distance are traveled in light of destiny and purpose.

The framework of time entertains the calculated movements which are believed by setting priorities.

The reconciliation of reality and intention celebrates the feast of faith.

In my honest silence of occurrence, I evaluate the abstract details of companionship.

I am withdrawn from the repetitive steps of expression I observed and walked before.

Longing to ponder the extreme callings of existential moldings; are shown through conversations of interest. I have given myself my own absorbance in substitute of the usual medium of functions.

I am instead given to a place of study in submission to alien perimeters.

I was not meant to be alone, but to share a faithful relationship with one who could reach for the same ground I desire.

Happily enjoying those moments that captivate the joys of withering charms which youth gravitates to.

Enslavement begins at the dawn of quest and digest.

When Processing fully; space, creates and unfolds a map of renewal and newness.

Behold: The mark of gain and the mask of its enemy makes clear doubt in the minds of inspired ambition.

The steps declare loyalty as feet are driven by determination.
If You can relate to being reborn, this is for you!

When trust is given to a boundless measure with no beginning or end, living in its domain can interrogate its influence.

Knowing that the leap into a full space of limitless equations juxtaposes a judicial merit of love.

Lingering Amputation

For those of you once in a relationship, you know how it is, to cut somebody off when you realize their position has diminished. Why keep a member still around, when the membrane is poisoned?

It’s the reality that becomes even more piercing when you move according to the flow. Not everyone is suppose to be in your life for a long time, but cutting someone off still leaves a lingering. The smell is as strong as fragrance; that keeps the aroma of the room in circle. The memories are valid, but the question is what comes next!

What do you do about a memory?

Do you simply ignore its stinging, flavor?

Or direct the memory in a new direction & apply a different meaning?

As the decision is made to amputate the poisoned membrane; what becomes of this; reckons in and out.

The sting of its absence; creates a distinguished lingering that begs for attention.

When you simply cut off a once well exercised member; you are then going to live with that disadvantage.

Usually; when living without; you begin to ponder about getting to a prosthetic.

Your nerves being the determining focus of your next action.

I encourage you all to watch the video, and perhaps maybe you all can relate to the message!