ternary thoughts, tragic symmetry

Motor cortex soliloquy’s

What if there couldn’t be any rational properties to perception,
Could it use something to quantify eternity in a mind,
Should it ever end or be free in high speed relativity,

Forfeiting distances over transference of psychic matter,
The sickness reaffirms concerns over the mind sustained in losses,
For a throne made of light & mirrors processed in halls of smoke,

Robed in black night speckled by the scars of purpose,
Crowned in a mirage with the shards of reflections shattered,
With no satellite to reassert the immunity of independence,

The mind collects peace beneath the experiences solved,
Wherever rest could appeal to give up its critical resolve,
Infinite in specificity to follow the unknown through darkness,

From which it flushes all care’s cherished to fatigue,
Or to conclude what the light has done to yesterdays crises,
Conflicted by compromise within corrosive disarray,

Discernment of reality explores the limits displayed,
As per a personal directive to fathom introspective puzzles,
Leading further into the light at the end of the tunnel,

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pointless, ternary thoughts

Human augmented planet

Winged gargoyles or gollum’s penthoused,
Through black concentric poisons flowing free,
A sprawling cityscape ignites as the dusk breaks into night,

Synchronized to the wearer’s mood or ability,
Rearranged as order to the dominant lobe,
Transpires the way out of left behind’s for more,

Precisely augmenting every aspect of perception,
To combine the senses from something in the present,
A glass filled sand derwish growing within momentum constructed,

All in the versatility of derivative experience,
Towards shaping things in its right place, all in due space,
Immunofluorescent strictures constrict its vessels,

Out of a reason to believe in the soul’s introspection,
And surviving the torrents of reality leeching through the present,
It takes a lot from meaning to require nothing in its entirety .

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anonymous function contemplation

Synapses stuck in escape velocity

Life’s game of raising the stakes in every turn,
Just to wait, & see the thoughts conjured in designs,
Encrypted within a primitive mainframe to surprise,

As the path to choose from the cards passing through,
In a focus without persistence in the unanimous pattern,
Seeking a chance to navigate its own great surrender,

Through analysed distortions in everlasting surveillance,
Vindicated by predisposed reaction management,
An all capable eventuality is an anomaly configured at the river,

Born of Introspection staring at its improvised bets,
Without a personality involved , just folds, raises or checks
Finding comfort in use of its wealth to survive the lessons reflected inside.,

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rogue rhymes, ternary thoughts

Delusional interventions

Present past & future all in perceptive disarray,
Why choose which stream would save the day,
When acceptance reaches beyond time & space.,

Through an arc of conduction that should suffice reality,
Depending on what it takes to assume its insanity,
From resources of comfortable concoctions to use,

Where few instances could access the supports involved,
Even fewer still, could actually use it to revitalize importance,
The variable being any truth to confuse,

As the fuel that provides life to the engine inside,
Energy’s aligned bordering along centers of gravity confined,
Gathering validity through a paradoxical dynamic,

In every charge generated when the choicest of elements coincide,
With requirements to complete its variables of equilibrium,
Or live beyond the dream in disbelief,,

Waiting in lines for the tumbles to click in place,
As an inferior plan to suffice the disarray in quality or taste,
To fade protocol as it gives way to a dead end pace,

Against greatest, amazing, awe inspiring somethings,
Compared to whatever led to comprehending the difference,
Its highest accomplishment within it all being bewilderment.,

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binary thoughts, philosophy

Solar rings as far as the eye wants to see

Random facts or figurative constructs passed along from life to a mind,
Only engages the conviction from within static comfort,

Until its defects reflect the cure to details of its own creativity,
Fact is , fact is more impersonal than all the ties that bind it to purpose,

If the earth was flat & sustained without proportionate surface tension,
A light at the end of a tunnel would be the orbit to gravitate visions,

Endless depth & countless stars to navigate oblivion,
A life without the need to sleep out of metronome discomfort,

Or geopositional mapping to articulate circadian rhythms in black & white,
Levitated in states of mind encapsulated like fountains,

Flowing out of great passages of water in a crystalline paradox,
Raising spectre’s just so, that floating end’s don’t touchdown into a fullstop,

No memory to fill the otherwise empty soul of the world,
Except of grand adventures and the eternal mornings sundering,

Neither proposed defects of a rational relativity to cherish,
Or avoid in the loss of reason draining life from what it costs to exist,

From equilibrium’s of contentment as a global processing skill,
& no effort of control ever available to spare in a galactic perspective,

To see things whole in a blended bliss where self amounts to naught,
Never compromising & ever relentlessly fought for within a circle of its flaws,

As in, ancestraly acceptable levels of threat abolishing satisfaction,
For wisps of cloudy unknowns to flow into sunlit streams of passion,

Beside a spiral stairway left aside out of choices aimed at future comfort,
In systems of consequence worth its weight of peace in its present,

At odds with cost and effect having thawed from the polar ends,
Half in ,half out anyway’s in a condiment of infinite dimensions,

Inference : The reach vs grasp of the mind-reality membrane gets in the way,
Of intuition manifesting into the realms of imagination every fucking time.,

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