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Nice6:44am tuesday, 29th september
The biggest news in Standland? The Russian model is getting married. The only superhot chixx0r that I ever had had a chance with. Now, history. Found out on Facebook when I woke up Monday. I was like, crud, then, eh. It was not like I was going to marry her anyway. I also am kinda diggin’ on this geek girl who lives in Brooklyn, who unfortunately has a boyfriend. And who could be said to be a little young for me, too. So there it is. In other news, this is the third year that I have been writing, and I mean writing in quantity. A lot, though nowhere near as prolific as Philip K. Dick, of course, his drug being speed and mine Benadryl. I probably have written enough this last year for my third book in three years, but right now they're on a website, for the most part. In still other news, I think I have a model that solves the AI-complete problem of natural language reasoning. Look up AI-complete, it's a fascinating field. And I hope to have some code written by the end of the year. What else? I have started to go to mass again, after a stretch of absence, and my madness seems like it's about to resolve itself. Of course, that's what I thought before the Event happened to me. Wonder what will become of it all? Yeah, nice. Nice. Very nice.
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goes or stays6:58am saturday, 26th september
she doesn't know whether she goes or stays
the symmetries tell her where not to wander
she left two eternities behind
not to desire any future you can buy
she is close and whispers secrets
she is distant, but this is a trick of the eye
listening at oblivion's door for stragglers
scrounging parts to build a time machine
she fits nowhere in our history
she sits and waits for her gravity to kick in
the smoke of her dreaming to ascend
a dizzying freedom to awake, now
astonished at how a star can aim from way there
where time travels backward with distance
she is part of the mystery of dance
of the cosmos reaching to infinity
time not keeping it from happening all at once
she becomes a twinkling in her own eye

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found9:47am friday, 18th september
rolling back, back to the very beginning
now with eyes to see
love is a present from father to daughter
yet love is not a thing
love is a midnight drive to fetch some pills
yet love is not an action
all we can do is point to where love is
a direction outside space
the mystery of the rose’s velvety beauty
they believe they know
they think they can speak of love with a flip
emergent as a utility
from the pragmatism of evolution’s hand
just a shade of affection
but if i say your idea of love is too small?
for love is of the stars
love is the substance of the infinite Lord
and He is naught besides
the simplest of all, simpler than nothing
why any of we all exist
once i knew what love was, the illusion
so sure i was I KNEW
the mystery so plain in what my poetry said
but when i looked within
i found i held a husk long empty of sweets
to see with humble eyes:
love is the nothing that is everything
the oblivion that gives
for have you ever wondered? do you not know?
love was there ere light
when suddenly one discovers they are found
for this is what love is
infinite in story, as it was meant at the first
to be found… everywhere

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Extraordinary5:42am thursday, 10th september
There was a man who never did anything extraordinary at all. He was born, then went to school, and there he made some friends. Some of the boys and girls that he met went onto great things, but he was never close enough to any of those friends that that greatness spilled over into his own life. He was average looking, of course, and he had average looking girlfriends, who didn’t let him get past second base for the longest time. He lost his virginity in college, where somehow the underwear flies off freely. (It must be some sort of magic.) He met the girl he was going to marry in college, definitely not unheard of. Though they lived together a couple years after they graduated to be on the safe side. He was gainfully employed from the time he got out because he had been a summer intern at the place where he was hired. There he met some work friends who for some reason didn’t feel as special than the ones he met in school. His first child was born before he was thirty, the second before he was thirty-five. A boy and a girl, of course. His job was a good one, he progressed up the ladder at a regular rate. The children grew up and he wondered where the time goes. He loved a lot, he hated some. He knew the meaning of the word, “home”. The children grew up and found lives for themselves, and he grew old with his wife beside him, living in the house they had bought all those years ago. He lived a completely ordinary life, the years all having gone by at a rate of an hour per hour, a mile per mile. And then, lying there with his loved ones all around, he closed his eyes for the last time… amazed at it all.
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books2:57am tuesday, 1st september
come, let us fill all the books of the world
for God is love, and love can be a fire
that drives the fevered pen, that lights far shores
on will come the crush of desire and of loneliness
and alone you have halted demons, but now...
the turning of the world stirs a wonder in you
is this the end? is this the beginning?
or just another day that drifts along the edge
i have been brighter than this, and quieter
(hush now, let all sound find their source)
i have knocked on doors some have feared to open
you cannot prepare for the worst, i have found
the experience never tastes the same
flowers that celebrate every day like spring
(to escape from the hush, the quiet of snow)
they cannot find where you are: believe
there is love that can come from nowhere
because it is everywhere, have eyes to see!
it is hard to turn the tragedy, the memory
but it can be done if you touch the greater love
i have seen the fire, how the seraphim burn
time being mystery that unfurls endlessly
what is the magnitude of the wonder of change?
beyond all things that ever were, and yet
the merest sliver of what is given in this world
the shyest light before the rising of dawn:
this is the bravest, that breaks the darkness
go forth, and do what is right, do you see?
you know what is right, or have you not heard?
Jesus sat with sinners, not the authority
come, let us fill all the books of the world
all that we were meant to do: it is written

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Luck3:23pm tuesday, 25th august
Everything happened because it was logical for those things to happen. Nothing ever happened that was not logical to happen because that was the way that things worked. Aught were taken for granted because of that, enough so that they said that this universe was inevitable, and all you needed really was particles and luck. No one ever wondered if logic itself was inevitable. Far from compelled to happen was it the whole history of things, which at times one could believe as if it all were written way back when, in the tiniest fluctuations of the original particle party, the Big Bang. But as the scientist posit that there might be places where the laws of physics are different, they think not of a place where nothing works at all, yet things still "happen". What might be thought of as the primordial chaos, in more than one mythology. They think not of whence the origin of logic itself, within which cause and effect may have meaning, wherein their equations function. They posit an infinity of universes where everything that can happen, does. They think not of an infinite of universes where nothing works at all in any of them. What are the odds, now, those of the particles and luck variety, when I envision an infinite number of universes where there is nothing but chaos, and this one, where everything works? Tell me why your model is more valid, because methinks you missed something. There is no such thing as luck.
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oblivion8:52pm friday, 14th august
the patron saint of oblivion
twirled zero cigarettes on each fingertip
with shadows scampering around the edge of existence
there is a list of things i have not yet done
wallowing in the limpid pool of lesser importance
they sit there and stare at me, and wait
growing more eyes as they brood
time is not an illusion, for change is real
distance i have dreamed makes me small like hope
and sometimes i am the dream of myself
like the smoke of prayer ascending to heaven
i breathe fire in its imaginary state
awaiting the Judgment in constant apology
sometimes disgusted by how much i actually believe
to light a candle and careful of its metaphor
how could it all make such blinding sense?
as ancient crimes still cry out from the earth
what have i trapped behind these eyes?
here i am, watching the crows make a murder
here i am, diving into my head armed with sarcasm
here i am, waking up as the dream slips away
hell never thought someone could figure it out
how to punch a hole into eternity
and i follow, out of all dreaming
where every action is a beginning
the engines of heaven where light is forged
i have given my soul to its proper owner
and i burned in love till only love remained

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the breeze1:51am thursday, 6th august
i find what moves me is the night coursing through my blood
the elixir, night, from vials where dreams are distilled
i find i feel naked without my chains, wandering on purpose
and the dreaming drags at my heels, me without my wings
the wind blows about voices which all miss my exact verbiage
so much sadness, pools about to burst in the house of wisdom
i have seen love come from out of nowhere, hope unheeding
even as the rocket's red glare blinded me of anything else
sometimes to crawl out of one's skin, momentarily nonexistent
until the moment when you meet yourself in the vast void
how cruel is the mirror to display whatever truth, how kind
there is power in the desire to be alone, mostly untapped
time as if unreal when no one shares the spaces in between
i have desired to taste the fire out of which desire seeks
and dreaming: it is to touch the world through the ether
have i understood not that innocence is infinite till lost?
the end of the world to be spectacular, unless it's yourself
i know where i will be when the sky splits open: flying
for fear is merely not to understand where reality ends
even the darkest of horrors can be approached with kindness
and where have i been to know the secrets of the changing?
i to forget myself when asked to lead down the path i blazed
only to be whole when without the self, except the humor
love i have experienced as a gentle breeze... that knew me

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Routine6:53am thursday, 30th july
So, in Standland, I am still in the routine of working at the day job, going home, ordering delivery food, then writing. After the two books I wrote after/about the Event (having been the end of the War in Heaven), I have been doing most of the production on a website, whose domain name I paid over $4000 for. And now I've started yet another website, which has a cool title, and which will end up being another book. Not much there yet. The website I mentioned previous, that about has enough info on it to just make it so that it functions as an informational site which, though supplemental to my books, stands on its own with a fascinating philosophy. Well, I think it's fascinating, anyway, stuff I gathered from my experiences as a soldier in the War. And it may be that the thing I was promised right before the Event, namely, the curing of my split mind—it may now be in the works. I have prayed, though: let me never forget the lessons that I have learned, nor the miracles I have witnessed. Word. Peace. Out.
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doves3:00pm monday, 20th july
i let loose the doves of my thought
a flurry of wings as the light scatters
i am busy imagining random apocalypses
remembering how i kissed the feet of God
have you been to where color is born?
it is between the light and the dreaming
it is where birdsong slows to whalesong
nothing breathed that wasn't once of heaven
fire once used to dance on my fingertips
and i told eternity to wait to celebrate
and it all came around, i became noone
even less than what my father had deposited
i had thrown it all away spectacularly
and forgot how exactly how that had come
shuffling through the trash, my home
not knowing: it is God who lives there
the words of the prophet had so declared
night became my womb, though what is born?
then there was a savior in my visions
i believed him not, even when he showed me
how it would look from infinity's sight
and miracles i believed not my own eyes
and there came a day that was not a day
a year that was more than a year, i think
after a lifetime, more than a lifetime
i saw the light, and it was good, that's all
to work out the kinks in visions of horror
but to end in the eye of a child of God
my own eye, having learned how i am nothing
still shuffling through the trash, you know
for God is there, you see, captured
not as a prisoner, but one who frees
in His eye, if one catches the right angle
life and death, beyond the highest heaven
the light which shines in our hearts
what exactly it is we find when we were lost
what it is we were capable of, all along

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flight5:17am wednesday, 8th july
in the opening of the endless word
the idea is rendered in the bones:
are you small enough to love the world?
the legend of me is many myths long
as wide as the road to destruction
time threatens to stop, in vain
it is written in my dna to doubt
to dream deep in the womb of the earth
of silver horses that rush like rivers
ground zero of my forgotten desire
that which lazy with gravity pretends
which no longer plays nice with pain
why did i return arbitrarily home?
where dawn steadily claims the sky
i surrendered to the most distant light
which returned me to myself, as if
i lived in the reality in the mirror
only to catch glimpses of my true world
and i find myself huge, made of knots
that i do not forget the lighter things
to gaze into heavens where stars fall
could i expect the sheer perspective?
in the eyelash of infinity, there am i
who ate a star and spit out a particle
just waiting for eternity to blink
it happens to all of us: we are born
the most extraordinary of ordinary
to turn the corner when shows too soon
the tunnel full of eyes, and the light
where we wake from this solid world
flight is to forget there are shadows

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