That Shirt
Cross-Apply: 2 ships passing by, one titanic cubed, the other a stealth ship enterprise, of instantaneous movements...maybe when we have a development in relation to the informatic layer, among the modeling, then one might start to get this. For now, it's the categorical split, like this production...
The point, the language isn't developed, so to place matters into this context, as a basis to act on despite informatic forms of the language produced simply becomes this ever-growing development questioning this fallacy to keep up with these key changes
Cross-Apply: Teleological Assertion Critiques
Cross-Apply: Pomo
Cross-Apply: Mathematical Sublimes & Veneering Assertions
Cross-Apply: Bounded Faculty
Cross-Apply: Claims based on a lack of evdience
Stuff like that. Which I do not mean disrespect or offense. Simply I saw a shirt today, and I had a series of questions, and to me, it really wouldn't be about having the answers, but rather asking good questions. Much like the categorical splits, this Talk-Talk, remain secondary to matters of design, of newer designs that wouldn't require an argument, as the new form presents just that, coupled with the norm and form of implications and possibilities among a network.
I have to say though, I wish there were more shirts like that. It's just something that inspires inquiry and consideration vs the ever-so veneering, I'm an earth angel in an earth angel world...glasshouse safe-risking type of matter, that is simply the gloss of nice as ice. Always nice to take note of something different, offering a pulse. Much better than the typical shirt, that tends to have the theme...I'm THE earth angel kitty boo boo fuck of your dreams. I'm glad to see such confidence in such a literal way, and as for what would be at issue with that...but there is always room to doubt, so by all means, kitty boo boo fuck it up. We are still on a rock spinning around fire. It's going to be okay. Be confident in that way. Where was I?
Oh that nickname
So the new Micro-Hell move would be a new nickname for me..."heaven." This could be innocent, yes, but it just takes me back to high school talking to good friends, most of whom are dead, discussing peculiar behaviors that referenced the church, of a group of gents, who do not like us, though there isn't an evil bone in their body naturally, as they emphasize the divide, the "struggle" that catches matters up among the controversies brought to you by wolves in sheep's clothing and earth angels on the ease of the sycophancy plan, aka nice stuff for good behavior, just keep it all at the surface, assess on the basis of the mirror, seeing at the eye-literal (Cross-Apply Agnes Fingers Crossed note the play of mind's eye, like seeing eye snake, like Justice she had no eyes). They, would have certain personalities ready to join a network, put out that hit on certain folks of a particular design, flamboyant, straight or gay, more so of a matriarchical design. It's not all, and no, there wouldn't be a representation of all who find a home among their particular religion. Rather, in all avenues, there are irrational minds that gun for the one on the basis of sentiment, even if they are attempting to follow social norms. In fact, the attempt to go with the social norm, simply feeds into that play of gunning for the one who needs to be erased. Add in that the play gets the one on the words, words, words, routine, and presto chango, you have the lose-lose in play. She's in a corner, and you've got her in the cross-hairs. Wah, wah, wah. Granted, I am non-universalist, which wouldn't mean a rejection of universalism and I make that clear. Much like I'm not offended to be called heaven, and I could assume the best, but I have a backdrop of friends, I grew up with like me, who were treated to plays of irrationality that were used to further irrationalize, all the way to their deaths. It's not an exageration, it's something that has been happening in this area for quite some time, and in great irony, there is a newly situated network in Peachtree City, who holds a tradition of written record, where certain families, tied to Europe, know precisely what that play would be. Heaven isn't really a nickname, and yet, that seems to be my new nickname at work. Much like, sure brand me as crazy in relation to those who represent normalcy, in such an irrational-universal fashion. Maybe keep out of the department and drop the ball over and over again, to apply that hit on me. It has stopped, but when I am referenced as crazy, sure thing, I'll be your crazy, and yet coming from management, it does seem a bit off. Then again, if I am on the words, words, words, then that play is paying dividends for a group on the gunning play for this one of a particular design. I could be wrong? Where am I? Maybe it is a genuine play of endearment. I would like to believe it. I wouldn't think bad, and yet, again, I know the area and matters that have already happened to my friends of a similar design, and I will continue to write about it, as well as aim at breaking any and all plays of a needed social norm. I'm not here to be the norm, considering what that can do in relation to my design. I'm simply at work to work. To focus on the task at hand and get the result. Let's be clear. Are we in OZ?
Plenty of artist highlight the violent play dolled up as peaceful. Keep the one of artistry, creating, on the run, engaged in activities where they are to dive into the waters of words, words, words...dorothy on that path off and away, among a hell, that is an infinite movement, no home, just skip until you are dead type of routine.
Take note of the ice cooler with blood...cross-apply heatwave (BIJ Dare)and phone line "words, words, words" play, along with out of time, cut the line. Think mirror and a Unicorn, cinnamon bun in the oven, Slave to the Audio, a cover for setting up Prancing N*%%#$ play. The internet is so useful; that activity; grid her up. Learn to be good, no risk (forget the muse, the oceans, the transcend), what's it going to take to shake her. Cross-Apply window pane among ice, and cross-apply age of animal, including play bunnies. Cross-Apply the valuing bodies in the mirror, process gutted. Cross-Apply One Night/All Night (consider Cybele, Rhea, Demeter, Persephone). Cross-Apply the tubes draining with Girl and the Robot. Cross-Apply differing associations among always polished presentations, devoid of Hypatia & Christian Social Party into Nazism. No controversy, whatsoever, and yet great artists highlight that polished play, cross-apply Prince's controversy (Of an artistry challenging violent plays fleeced by the church no longer permitted on American Radio, as North Korean military goosestepping culture is to arrive in the US as the new and improved civil society). Bi-polars, binary praise, mania on deck, cross-apply manic world (these lucrative difficulties). Paper or Plastic? Fixture Picture (You can't be pure and in love)? Red Dress, Red Dress Cross, Red Shoes, Constantinople (Constantine officiating something)? Cross-Apply Mickey Peace hand on the car at the end of this presentation. If the Mickey Hands are still confusing, cross-apply Kara Walker's work, along with quotes like "The silhouette says a lot with little information, but that's also what the stereotype does." "It's not really about blackness, per se, but about blackness and whiteness, and what they mean and how they interact with one another and what that power is all about." (Something like, keep the ancient matters away, she's not to exist, and those of a corresponding nature caught up among the struggling divide, involved, among unfortunate event, coupled with a bleeds it leads headline, and candlelight vigil with mickey gloves, along with a striving for resolution that we already know intends on falling short, rinse and repeat) Back to Kara Walker, "I think really the whole problem with racism and its continuing legacy in this country is that we simply love it. Who would we be without the struggle?" And not to speak for, but among that play, a checkered struggle does well in relation to catching one of a particular nature into matters of controversy, matters of unfortunate event, matters of words, words, words, matters of mental health, incessantly, until the unfortunate event occurs. It's all so sad for those ready to appear on stage. Much like the American Media, if it bleeds it leads, so among such a loss, how among what is valued, could there actually be a loss worth addressing, which among these fine plays of earth angel, that couldn't be, and yet that is what is happening. Join in, or the foyer, among hermetic jibe and smiles. These matters stuck on repeat, controller play, rag dolls, all with a need to explore what's going on as the hands conveniently keep falling short, while running the irrationalizing "struggle" whip those of a particular nature not of any form of protection, just on the margin, targets without consequence. Their deaths do not matter so much. This artist toward commercial challenge is a fraud. This artist toward commercial challenge is dangerous. The unseriousness. The humor. The one not expensive enough to be eccentric (nor do I care to be expensive loves, not a handout in-need type of personality, ready to fall, nor would classist notions work considering my actual experiences, among lives lived from these various avenues, talls and smalls. The mirror is superficial, the old lot in life a responsibility, and beyond that the process is what matters, like water on the castle window. The have and have not matter is largely absurd to me. That domain isn't a foundation for living, but rather a foundation for living death. You can still find what you love, which in terms of substance, will involve rigors of process, creativity and an actual production of substance. One has nothing, then take a walk in nature and collect leaves and specimens for example. Illustrate if you like).
The point, the language isn't developed, so to place matters into this context, as a basis to act on despite informatic forms of the language produced simply becomes this ever-growing development questioning this fallacy to keep up with these key changes. If there are failures in relation, the one of this nature, among a language undeveloped, among categorical splits disconnected among the one geared toward a language among process, of which the informatic development achieves that measure. Of which, to assert one is crazy vs. one simply not having that capacity to even follow what these matters are and too insecure to admit it. Do I have the capacity to be a medical surgeon...hell no (and plenty of surgeons couldn't keep up with me in particular forums), and I'll say it, and yet, you need to be the answer to me. Why is that? We can't be everything so why pretend? I know my strength so why pretend in this absurdity of denouncement that simply veneers over the entire matter as "word games" for example. Is there not the possibility you didn't come from the same academic background and these matters of pattern and abstraction are not your strength? Can't seem to even consider the possibility because one is strong in that way? I question all of that. And yes, we could portray this as dorothy skipping down a yellow brick road, the blue of sky removed, and yet, in terms of the informatic, the institutional basis, that assertion, that killswitch play doesn't seem to work at this point considering what has changed. It's as if the table has turned, the institutional format, once among a hellenic tradition, to a western tradition, maybe back toward something that resonates with hellenic tradition, of which the oscillation among an equillibrium makes sense. Much like the institutional arrangement of the United States, among a 2 party system, in terms of equillibrium makes sense. I simply consider Athenians and Spartans, and the incessant fighting, the absurdity of one form holding the answer to the other form, and yet both traditions fell, soon after the other. Of which the US system seems to follow, at least even among considering the draft documents, no one holds that answer rather it's this aggregate interaction and achieving that oscillating equilibrium, so who knows, just vote. Let the matters bigger, aside from that universal blockhead who holds the answers to life, work matters out, and focus on citizenry and contributions to civilization and culture. Something like that. Again, the point, this language remains undeveloped, and yet, even among what I have done, universal heads know what's real, what's true, including my word games it seems, and yet they too reason insofar as itself, so how did something of embodied truth notion ever come to be, when they have yet to determine what this reasoning stuff is...Who is a slave to the audio when the informatic is developing? The mirror play seems to be a consistent play, and yet, when a new form, recording the interactivity between emerges, a differing kind of mirror, it does seem to have implications, that in my view, considering the enhanced design, improves matters, including opening up institutional form that doesn't take aim at those of a particular nature in a violent, disengaging, and disrespectful manner. To embody as normal, and yet, their wouldn't be a basis to assert with authority why one should embody for anyone in the first place. It doesn't work, again, in terms of authoritative measure, and yet, when that was the best thing available, it might have some traction, and yet, when a newer institutional form arrives that responds to that alternative matter, yes, a logical basis can be had, a consistency measure, a cohesive form stabilizing, can be achieved among these movements in the mirror, of category play. I think in terms of those responsible for keeping matters structured and well ordered, it seems, just from the storming of matters, not even the norming and forming, the entire endeavor is likely to become much simpler and more successful. To hold a record of entire aggregate movements, of their interactivity, in real time. It is possible. If one thinks she is getting lost among this typing, please also, cross apply Guattari's Decoded Flows Code the Machine, my exit from the polemics stage. For someone who did actually go to one of the best unis in the world, this notion that I am to answer to these minds with an attitude that they can entirely follow what I have done, and I don't say that out of disrespect or arrogance, but rather out of a demand for acknowledging this fact. Unless, someone has done that, this notion that one can then simply cherry-pick what they can understand and make determinations and hold behaviors toward me as they see fit, isn't okay, at all. Did you compete academically at the highest level, then how did you manage to elect yourself as being the very answer to me. Maybe something superficial, like one's professional-looking post or title, still, at the surface. Where does that play come from? At least, I follow in the past that wouldn't at all be permitted among those who did the same, not of sycophantic form but a form that went through official, methodical forms, of rigor, and that answer to me play, it seems, to have stopped, but I have to reiterate that in relation to this post. There is something about actual respect. I'm not this stuck-up personality, nor am I the person who looks down on anyone. I just don't think like that. I tend to be among my own internal fruition most of the time, not so...focused on keeping up appearances, and inclined to do matters wrong in terms of irrational embodiment. Rather, it's this play of minds attempting to network as if they are to be smarter when I already follow we don't share the same gifts, so cut it out. You have your strengths, and I'll even make note of them, even in relation to my strengths and weaknesses, and yet where is that call to acknowledge one's own limitations? It's not noted of, along with that fast-track of being the answer to me, and on a basis that wouldn't hold a sound logical foundation. What happened? I'm not going to address the ass-antic, much like an athlete on the field isn't going to address the ass-antics of the crowd. Rather, you have your go, I simply go about the day and carry on as if I am not following, and yet, the one who fast-tracked themselves to being smarter and more normal, empowered among the hermetic jibe of a network's Talk-Talk play, and all without any form of competitive assessment in that academic form, is here to raise victory, the many on the same page to the one who can now be beneath them, if they can just play the good word in the right way, all of which serves there convenience and dellusions as they smile to my face, and run the strategic conversations. Sure, let's Talk-Talk. Maybe afterwards you can develop informatic methods to further advance our language form still developing, again, of this matter of civilization? Or, maybe you can cherry-pick the anecdote and drag me through the mud, even as a network, because it props up one dealing with what is likely to be, obvious insecurities. Do whatever you like.
Plenty of artist highlight the violent play dolled up as peaceful. Keep the one of artistry, creating, on the run, engaged in activities where they are to dive into the waters of words, words, words...dorothy on that path off and away, among a hell, that is an infinite movement, no home, just skip until you are dead type of routine.
Take note of the ice cooler with blood...cross-apply heatwave (BIJ Dare)and phone line "words, words, words" play, along with out of time, cut the line. Think mirror and a Unicorn, cinnamon bun in the oven, Slave to the Audio, a cover for setting up Prancing N*%%#$ play. The internet is so useful; that activity; grid her up. Learn to be good, no risk (forget the muse, the oceans, the transcend), what's it going to take to shake her. Cross-Apply window pane among ice, and cross-apply age of animal, including play bunnies. Cross-Apply the valuing bodies in the mirror, process gutted. Cross-Apply One Night/All Night (consider Cybele, Rhea, Demeter, Persephone). Cross-Apply the tubes draining with Girl and the Robot. Cross-Apply differing associations among always polished presentations, devoid of Hypatia & Christian Social Party into Nazism. No controversy, whatsoever, and yet great artists highlight that polished play, cross-apply Prince's controversy (Of an artistry challenging violent plays fleeced by the church no longer permitted on American Radio, as North Korean military goosestepping culture is to arrive in the US as the new and improved civil society). Bi-polars, binary praise, mania on deck, cross-apply manic world (these lucrative difficulties). Paper or Plastic? Fixture Picture (You can't be pure and in love)? Red Dress, Red Dress Cross, Red Shoes, Constantinople (Constantine officiating something)? Cross-Apply Mickey Peace hand on the car at the end of this presentation. If the Mickey Hands are still confusing, cross-apply Kara Walker's work, along with quotes like "The silhouette says a lot with little information, but that's also what the stereotype does." "It's not really about blackness, per se, but about blackness and whiteness, and what they mean and how they interact with one another and what that power is all about." (Something like, keep the ancient matters away, she's not to exist, and those of a corresponding nature caught up among the struggling divide, involved, among unfortunate event, coupled with a bleeds it leads headline, and candlelight vigil with mickey gloves, along with a striving for resolution that we already know intends on falling short, rinse and repeat) Back to Kara Walker, "I think really the whole problem with racism and its continuing legacy in this country is that we simply love it. Who would we be without the struggle?" And not to speak for, but among that play, a checkered struggle does well in relation to catching one of a particular nature into matters of controversy, matters of unfortunate event, matters of words, words, words, matters of mental health, incessantly, until the unfortunate event occurs. It's all so sad for those ready to appear on stage. Much like the American Media, if it bleeds it leads, so among such a loss, how among what is valued, could there actually be a loss worth addressing, which among these fine plays of earth angel, that couldn't be, and yet that is what is happening. Join in, or the foyer, among hermetic jibe and smiles. These matters stuck on repeat, controller play, rag dolls, all with a need to explore what's going on as the hands conveniently keep falling short, while running the irrationalizing "struggle" whip those of a particular nature not of any form of protection, just on the margin, targets without consequence. Their deaths do not matter so much. This artist toward commercial challenge is a fraud. This artist toward commercial challenge is dangerous. The unseriousness. The humor. The one not expensive enough to be eccentric (nor do I care to be expensive loves, not a handout in-need type of personality, ready to fall, nor would classist notions work considering my actual experiences, among lives lived from these various avenues, talls and smalls. The mirror is superficial, the old lot in life a responsibility, and beyond that the process is what matters, like water on the castle window. The have and have not matter is largely absurd to me. That domain isn't a foundation for living, but rather a foundation for living death. You can still find what you love, which in terms of substance, will involve rigors of process, creativity and an actual production of substance. One has nothing, then take a walk in nature and collect leaves and specimens for example. Illustrate if you like).
Just these symbols and behavioral patterns in relation to matters highlighting the plays of those desiring violence among patriarchal ordering, and those of a differing design (not adhering to a life in the mirror devoid of what a differing order desires, of a connection understood in relation to creative endeavor) dealing with these incessant plays aimed at entrenching one of this design into word play, the infinite slide called hell. We can take words, and even hold association of words and desire, at face value, and go with a tradition in a way that simply assesses how matters superficially look in the mirror, among those concerned who are always peaceful of course, among some with a wolve's clothing that can easily veil without critical measure, while disregarding the play of setting up the stage... Sure it can be cold, but how did this ever come to be, and considering matters of written record, tracing that design is critical, especially considering matters involving crosses to hypatia and Christian Social Party to Nazism. Again, that isn't aimed at insulting Christians, but highlighting again in all avenues there will be rational and irrational minds, good intents among bad intents dolled up as good. Tracing that play, that behavior is critical, of which requires the mind's eye, not simply seeing is believing therefore the air we breathe does not exist, of illogical basis.
To play with the networked play and to get the creative onto the grid and keep oscillating, keep generating that play that intends on one who has to speak up, which again further plays into matters of portrayal, among those applying the irrationalizing treatments, at peace, trying to figure out what's wrong. Again, it's something sharply understood in Europe, and often met with an intense response by those who have been tied to these forms of killing. It's commonplace where I am from, and it is still odd considering the network in Peachtree City. Why nickname me Heaven? Why that? Again, it's not a polemic. I'm not assuming bad intent, but I am coming from a violent past, and I know the patterns, among certain men, who let's be clear, they do not like me, much like they didn't like my friends (All smiles, caring loving, not a critical bone, white light). They were intent on remaining outwardly peaceful, always offering kindness, and very good at slipping the opportunity toward ambition under the table, to hold association, spin the intelligence, and gun with the incessant play of lose-lose bind, and the artistry in Europe highlights this. It's just something to be aware of, and also to note, matters are still oriented in a way here that looks nice in the mirror, but at the end of the day, isn't nice at all. Friendly faces, friendly smiles, and desires that like those of a certain design dismantled, erased, if not outright, there can always be concerns for their mental health, and this incessant embrace of words. But I don't suffer obviously. I remain within my creative domain, so life is actually good, even if I am still vigilant in communicating these interesting interactions that could go in a bad direction.
To play with the networked play and to get the creative onto the grid and keep oscillating, keep generating that play that intends on one who has to speak up, which again further plays into matters of portrayal, among those applying the irrationalizing treatments, at peace, trying to figure out what's wrong. Again, it's something sharply understood in Europe, and often met with an intense response by those who have been tied to these forms of killing. It's commonplace where I am from, and it is still odd considering the network in Peachtree City. Why nickname me Heaven? Why that? Again, it's not a polemic. I'm not assuming bad intent, but I am coming from a violent past, and I know the patterns, among certain men, who let's be clear, they do not like me, much like they didn't like my friends (All smiles, caring loving, not a critical bone, white light). They were intent on remaining outwardly peaceful, always offering kindness, and very good at slipping the opportunity toward ambition under the table, to hold association, spin the intelligence, and gun with the incessant play of lose-lose bind, and the artistry in Europe highlights this. It's just something to be aware of, and also to note, matters are still oriented in a way here that looks nice in the mirror, but at the end of the day, isn't nice at all. Friendly faces, friendly smiles, and desires that like those of a certain design dismantled, erased, if not outright, there can always be concerns for their mental health, and this incessant embrace of words. But I don't suffer obviously. I remain within my creative domain, so life is actually good, even if I am still vigilant in communicating these interesting interactions that could go in a bad direction.
And to recap on the one, the madam, the miss, the sen-yora, who references me as heaven, we discussed choice Metallica Albums, of which one has hands with strings among the crosses, so I wonder....Heaven is who I am to be it seems, and yet, can we not question why that is? Much like, again, I am in the office with a store manager and the store lead, of affirmations that I am crazy, of which let me be your worst embodiment, have you even made the effort to follow the matters that I can already take note of, you do not follow. Why lack such effort, and affirm matters that wouldn't hold a basis? I can't control these matters though, nor would I thumb my nose at such choices, though I would say, one would simply thrive under a rock, if that is the choice to be had. We can smile, but that wouldn't mask what most minds, considering the assertion without basis, actually mean, of a form of ignorance, that those, regardless of the visual in the mirror, say, looking professional, amiable, and wise, actually is. It's not a good look, even if it does look good. It genuinely isn't from a place of hate. It's simply from a place that respects what even those among my generation desire, a time to stop pretending. Let's cut the shit and dig into what's there, which has little to do with any and all matters of gloss.
Tapestry Caravan Home
This is the under-underpainting loves, on the way to the messy middles!
Back to painting....which there are a lot of ugly stages to everything that I do. Simply sharing this because a little sobriety I think can help in relation to people I observe wanting to create, but they find themselves turned off, when their creations do not look so great initially. Embrace the ugly. It's beautiful. Consider. Ponder. Start to experiment with the way one can stack colors and arrangements, then what was discouraging becomes a source of motivation. So yeah, I want to post ugly aspects to my work. I want to offer some avenue where I can share messy middles and beginnings, so someone can create their own ugly piece and not run away from something they always wanted to do. They can take note this is how it begins and good things will come. Who knows. Maybe I will not do that? Meaning, among my art courses, tutors, and fellow artists, there have been discussions about limiting the display of prep work because everyone wants Marilyn, not Norma Jean. I certainly tend to go my own way, but I do have to consider that as well. Some folks just thrive on being assholes towards those who create, all the while playing it with a smile and earth angel act. We shall see.
I do think though, this under-underpainting is fantastic, in that I am noting of the colors and arrangements I will layer, of which the look will transform. Still, this stage reminds me of Banksy. It's like graffiti meets some kind of odd Italian restaurant decor, and it will get messier before it all comes together, but this stage motivates...
Where am I? Painting. Internet. Presentation. Words...but the process...where is she going (omg I love real housewives)....snorkel....water....shooting....she's going away.....dljaslkdjglsjgsakdjfsldkfjsalgkjsdlkjgs
Currently painting my nuts. Everyone should try this. I'm not exactly sure how paint works on the snatch. I am the golden star, but for the nuts, it is quite therapeutic. There are face painters, and it is the age of niche marketing, so who knows, maybe I could be a therapeutic nut painter. I mean when it is all about the aspirations of content creation and finding your own unique voice. I mean who else is doing this. And fine, it could be crass, but I'd like to live in a world, where men could have clothing to afford the old meat satchel to hang out from time to time, of which we could display topiaries and fine works of classical paintings on the ol bean bag. It's good for the market. It's the next big thing, so long as it is a mild/hot day. Maybe even a brand of colorful cozies for the winter, with fun sayings, like I'm a nut patch kid, or can't touch this or magic beans stop here. I mean we put animal fat on lips and it floats an entire industry, so it's now time for the guys to do their part, and open up this economic opportunityso we all can benefit. For the good of the country. For the good of industry. Let's all let freedom bling with jewels for the jewels...Where am I?
A labyrinth, a minotaur...greek statue vs roman statue....sun upon a television screen....handcrafted mini trireme for the nuts...life could be more interesting, and educational I think. Why conceal any kind of weaponry when you can doll it up like a sock puppet? I mean we all love and adore lamb chop...then we create the needed value to offer synergies, like Macy's day parade floats...Like Miss America, there could be Sir Snatch Patch Universe. There would be synchronized dwerking (dick twerking). It would open up dance schools for dwerking. The victor could develop their custom designs and promote on various products, like rasinets, Jelly Bellies, and Swanson microwave dinners (who knew you could do that with the mashed potatoes). Think of the possibilities among this hard economic time.
What's happening here? Creativity, underpaintings, the embrace of the ugliness, the undesirable, as beautiful. Why not see beauty in everything, even if it is hard to swallow?
lksdjflajsdflajsdflkasjfklsdfjlsdafjksdaljflksdafjlksdjflksdajf
Is this the mirror?
So when 2 personalities approaching me as trans, offer their...friendship, of which the second member of our so-called community greets me with a high five just because and can't seem to connect with the first trans bretheren drinking from a Chik-Fil-A cup...I wonder what's going on? So anyhow, it seems, even from a gentlemen, with a particular British accent, with a particular flag on the front of the car, with a particular plate on the back, MI6, lololololol...not hate loves. Anyhow, in the office one is holding a conversation about AI and the money, money, money, opportunities...Of which, one is making that fine offer, and my response, I'll give you my best....Much like I open up Ryco Katz a mock celebrity project to fuck with those who need me to fall...and yet I haven't, still, to this day. And now, I Zazzle, RB, Tee Public and Spoonflower...I mean, she's shooting, she's ready to arrive. She's striving for the mirror, and yet, that wouldn't be the case at all, but if we all need to pretend. Not as if my lot in life wouldn't stop the incessant need for certain personalities to engage in that ever arrogant way of being realized, as they hold generations of bodies in the mirror, and yet to even acknowledge these matters involving rigors of process that they haven't themsleves engaged. I could be wrong, but when arrogant, yes, even at work, one will have that go, of which I take the hit, each and everytime. Souring I suppose, and yet I remain in relation to these processes that were in play even during my early collegiate days. And among other academic endeavors with those very expensive watches and cars, and yet, wasn't at all focused on such matters...and yet the British accent, not just any British accent, needs to attempt discussion on these fine monetary opportunities, as if I am oblivious. I am the pauper among this rock spinning around fire, so be it. My fate it is. I will endure as always. In the meantime, I am quite happy with tapestry caravan. It's a commercial production, with the aim, of something that wouldn't involve money, money, money, not as a higher calling, but simply as a focus. I'm likely living in a van, so the zazzle is nice, in that I have pillows, tapestries, curtains (that I don't like), but they might reside in a caravan, and wrapping paper, which I'm not sure about either, but I consider bohemian gift giving...of one nesting among metaphysical process that involves commercial avenue in a way that certainly challenges the banality of existing design, and no need to pretend, though the silence among the white light limousine is expected, for those of us on a red dress run. I suppose? Who knows really? And the RB is coming together as well, which feeds into the Tee Public, and SF, though the focus isn't any of these avenues, or whether or not I get followers. I just dont' give a F*$#! Rather, what I do give a damn about is how these subject designs lend to something that I desired. To paint the subject physically in a way that is almost effortless, with an emphasis on color. The tapestry flowers and strawberries, and likely more are setting me up for what I have been desiring. Working with colorthoery to produce involved works, and yet, to lend back to something that is a bit more humbling. Embracing our physicalities to work with these complexities in a way that accepts the limitation of not being a generative perfection and yet remaining in love with pigments and forms that embrace intermal considerations, to explore the interplays of ideals, to connection with notions Plato articulated, among an order and their mysteries, of which wouldn't exactly be disclosed on the most exciting measure involving our road to self-realization, the Television. Again, though, when the smiling faces, especially of a similar design, desiring to get to know me, in that fine, strategic manner, of which me, the one among the absolute smallest of networks, is naturally oblivious of our youth gunning for their opportunity, and by all means, one wants to play with fire, then by all means. When I was that age, I was finely tuned-in to where that path leads, but by all means, do whatever you like. Much like, I could be at the finish line of the one who got it, and yet, you observe as I go in a way that embraces the frictions that foster the muscle to grow. I suppose life could be so easy if I just did what was the "proper" thing to do, and yet after beating those odds, I want the double down and the exponential form. We are on a rock spinning around a ball of fire. You can have all the weapons, people, and buildings tied to your name, all day every day. I'm not afraid. I'm here, like it or not. Send all to assert I am the one who strives to achieve the mirror, and yet, at this point, anyone not afraid to face these challenges would follow, that wouldn't be the case at all. And it wouldn't come from matters of antagonism. There is no hatred for those I love, even if my love is difficult. One who gets that, follows. Others, our fine earth angels, simply float among the surface, rainbow synthetic beings, like petrol ooze surviving with training wheels, cherry pick what makes sense to them, which just so happens to place them into a postion of being the answer to me...of which expect them to pay me a visit at my place of work to play the tacit game of I know more than you horseshit. Smile. Meanwhile, once upon a time at least, a group among ancient context wouldn't be at a loss for my activities. I'm not into the mirror at all, Zazzle, Tee Public, Red Bubble, Spoonflower, and all. I don't need the material frame, the empire of dirt, to hold inform in relation to who I am...We can play it still waters, but there is always the flush, among that ancient play that desires not the category but the ongoing interactivity between, and the tradition among those who do not stop to make such connection, material frame or caravan-nonmaterial frame. The rigor is followed and understood. We bond, while those in the mirror kiss ass for their next polished pucker opportunity, including that desire to hold title, even if they are completely full of shit. Peace. And as for the suffering among words, where was I? Verse. Chorus.
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