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distant5:40pm monday, 29th september
i sense love distant
like the thaw of snow melt trickles
high in the mountain morn
i am found: this is love
upon the precipice of a dream
the child of stars crossing
the light undying
i am a sentinel of fortune
as dreams ascend with the dawn
made of earth and heaven
and a quiet to wash me white
snow everywhere
i walk through the memories of places
by candlelight flickering lonely
imaginary the distances
the song of myself inhales
i have not come to slip through cracks
light has pierced my eyes
destiny lingers
death weary of my meddling
the mirror knows me, so says his eyes
death chokes on confetti
for am i won from darkness
what flows through every last thing
i kiss hello
sometimes the wind calls me by name
small as i am, but cozy
i have measured the sky with my hands
and beyond, my third home
as i tease the threads of fate
the candle which lasted the storm
we blow out the flame, for dawn is here

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numbers9:52pm sunday, 21st september
the numbers do not care
we could be saving lives, we could be killing them all
they only stare back as hollow figurines
blind to what they themselves say
some will strain to find the meaning in you
we dare not ignore you, not when you speak for yourself
nor hide what you show

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On3:20am tuesday, 16th september
Night has fallen where it might, and I am a dream away from eternal things. My desire for flight has made me struggle against gravity all this time; and it has borne fruit in the wings I have sought to create. I have skirted the edge of the impossible where I have travelled, not willing to see that I should fail for the farness of my reaching. Give thanks to God, o my soul, for He has set a fire in my heart that weathers the torrents of the storm, that keeps me pressing on when hope is at its thinnest. This is life: that one sees the magic in what the world can achieve, wonder at dreams of the primordial light and shine the light upon all that is, do his best at whatever comes. Always remember from where you have come. It has made you what you are.
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memory3:09am sunday, 7th september
strange what we remember, a confetti of images
islands of mundane wonders wandering through our cognitive pools
stray memories of what we never were, time and worlds away

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Joke8:13am tuesday, 2nd september
A Sufi story tells us, "A man who had studied much in the schools of wisdom finally died in the fullness of time and found himself at the gates of eternity. An angel of light approached him and said, 'Go no further, O mortal, until you have proven to me your worthiness to enter into Paradise!'.

"But the man answered, 'Just a minute now — first of all, can you prove to me that this is the real heaven and not just some whimsical fantasy of my disordered mind undergoing death?'

"Before the discomfited angel could reply, a voice from inside the gates shouted, 'Let him in — he's one of us!'"

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Delight4:02pm tuesday, 26th august
Once when I was in the Black Iron Prison, I looked into the poster I had of the Garden of Delights, by Hieronymous Bosch, into the third panel, entitled, “Hell”; I looked into the face of the Tree Man, who looks back at you from the center of that panel:

...and it clicked, or more acurately, slid into place, that This was where I was. And I would think later, that I actually had been in one of the rooms in the building in the far back of that image....

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Standland3:42am monday, 18th august
Reflection put in a request for what’s going on in Standland a little while ago, so here. The biggest news is that I bought a really expensive domain name, having to do with my great interest in the War in Heaven. I had to have it though. Right now I got a thing or two I just randomly assembled on it but the possibilities are through the roof. Of course, my published book and my new book I'm working on deal a lot with the War, so yeah. Other than that, got about 110 pages double spaced of the mentioned new book, so I’m past halfway. The only question I have right now is, “How am I blowing through $8K+ per month?!?” It’s ridiculous. I don’t even have a crazy stripper girlfriend. Maybe I should block Amazon and eBay; that should about do it. And occasionally Etsy. But then that would drive me insane. And having money. Usually not a good combo. But anyway.
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Quotes8:07pm tuesday, 12th august
Very few people in the world would care to listen to the real defense of their own characters. The real defense, the defense which belongs to the Day of Judgment, would make such damaging admissions, would clear away so many artificial virtues, would tell such tragedies of weakness and failure, that a man would sooner be misunderstood and censured by the world than exposed to that awful and merciless eulogy.

 - Gilbert Keith Chesterton


Make me what Thou wouldst have me. I bargain for nothing. I make no terms. I seek for no previous information whither Thou art taking me. I will be what Thou wilt make me, and all that Thou wilt make me. I say not, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest, for I am weak, but I give myself to Thee, to lead me anywhither.

 - John Henry Newman


... They haled him, trembling, to the Judgment Seat.

"O Lord, behold the man who made the nails that pierced Thy feet!"

The Master laid a thin, scarred hand upon the shame-bowed head.

"They were good nails," he said...

 - Kenneth W. Porter

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And More5:23am wednesday, 6th august
I remember learning about the secret, psychic life of trees, when they decided to talk to me through a book about Escher. I remember naming a beautiful friend of mine (in the real world), the Great Spirit Gosh. And that the actual Great Spirit (of the Native Americans) sized me up one day and named me, “crowfeather”, and thus I was for many years from then. I could have sworn that marijuana resin appeared at the edge of a razor blade I was scraping a book I was using as a surface in general resin recovery. I would see better miracles later. The words from Jeremiah come to mind, “Concerning the prophets: My heart is broken within me; all my bones tremble. I am like a drunken man, like a man overcome by wine, because of the LORD and his holy words.” [Jeremiah 23:9 NIV] Except that I was overcome with wine. Too.
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And More Book1:30am tuesday, 29th july
In [Tolkien’s] “Ainulindalë”, Ilúvatar, who is God, creates heavenly beings known as the Ainur, and they commence to forming all that is by way of holy music. But the greatest of the Ainur, Melkor, laid into the ground of creation his own themes, not those purposed by Ilúvatar. Of course, Melkor’s musics were not like those of Ilúvatar: one could say that they were like of discord, and not of harmony, like the others. But so being, one might possibly say all that was wrong with the world came from the themes of Melkor. And when I considered that, I thought to myself how interesting it would be if that were true of this, our world, that an evil force were at the heart of all the world’s faults, its calamities. But as with many things that make perfect sense, I dismissed the notion offhand.

What if, though? What if angels had a hand in the way that things are? In the book of Job, God relates that the sons of God (angels) rejoiced in the creation of the world — so they were definitely around at the time. What if, then? What if the Lucifer myth is true, and the greatest of the angels rebelled, swelled up with pride, and caused “a third of the stars” to be fallen with him? A third of all the angels? The mechanisms of Heaven made so things bent that far to the will of the Devil, the invention of pain, and ruin any idea of fair play being evenly distributed throughout the world? To cause the world to be a place for injustice to be, if not the rule, the theme? This would be what it meant to be not just an angel of God, but the best and the brightest: read, most powerful of all the Heavenly host. It would be a big deal.

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I in I2:12am wednesday, 23rd july
I, the ashes of which form my body,
breathe in another last breath,
ending after ending neverending,
so many tunnels I’ve flown through.

I, the dreaming of which is my soul,
play at being awake these daylight
moments, when things happen,
and it is so very easy to pretend.

I, the crying of which is my heart,
shoot myself in the foot again,
which being a metaphor doesn’t
explain anything about me.

I, the desire of which fills me,
imagine things I can only say
fill me with fear if they should
happen, or in fact, if they don’t.

I, the oblivion of which drives me,
cannot say I ever wanted to
die, just wondered if meaning
existed somewhere... else.

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