Returning: XCII. & XXVIII.

October 31, 2012 § Leave a Comment

XCII.

Soon as I dictate my thoughts to my limbs

to my fingertips

the keys

the thought vanishes with the magic of its inception

- -

soon as I etch mentalities into a yellow legal pad

I become less of who I was

I become much less

enhanced by refinement

bereft of any chance of purity

- -

am I More now or Less now than prior to This?

XXVIII.

No matter how I try, can’t trace my pen-hand. Its shadow attached, trapped existing; out of light, extinguished, is its only rest.

Move a thumb. It moves. It interprets. It soothes. It means. It mars. It takes.

CXXXI.

October 31, 2012 § Leave a Comment

It nags, pulls here; it is not the impulse to write but

you sleep; I write

is this not true? Or am I deceived?

Skin of my bones, my muscle, my egg-carton of organs (cook, crack, split them; they expire, they spoil; all it takes is time)

all it takes is time and these nights fade

you sleep; I write

there was a life here, was there not? Out here floating off is a boy

a balloon missing its weighted-piece –

not “decorum” because my inflated form does not belong up here

not “decorum” because the wind whipped it about, scuffed the plastic, wore-down the edges

faded; all fades as these nights are closing

in, around — I am deceived

you sleep

I write

CXXIV.

October 13, 2012 § Leave a Comment

I am typing from an unreachable space. Here, you are sealed off from the immediacy of the emotions coursing through my nerves, exacted by (oh, as I have referred to them as before) these interpreters made of bone and flesh and all that is invisible to me unless I were to peel these layers back until an emptiness revealed itself, until the void creeping into my thoughts as of late is revealed–

you should feel alienated by my words now. Good. It is best this way. The relationship we are forming is too knowable…You read; I live, I write; you read…How are you living? Well? Not-so-well?

If you are not familiar with this manner-speak, please, humble me by allowing yourself entry and entreat your mind to wander; do me this courtesy and I shall offer a heavily contemplated experience. I offer you honesty.

Here, you are sealed off from knowing me. You know the words. That is all I have anymore, really (do not mistaken this for pitiful remarks of Self.) It is true. The words say what my laughter and my new pair of shoes and my haircut and the artifacts on my shelves cannot.

CXVIII.

July 11, 2012 § Leave a Comment

Harvest

Drop him, Lord

De-leash your avatar

remove his belongings: scripture, wallet, emblems,

the fleshy-pink, mole-rat-state of nature cocooning him–shed! shed!

he shrivels, buried in vines

he breathes in detritus and waste he becomes (what we became)

he breathes us; digests, deposits us

to worms, we move

to muddy pockets

to water bodies; we sink, we ferment–

“ah, such legs,” Sun says, spinning us in its glass,

“so finely aged . . . I’ll have more.”

CXV.

June 13, 2012 § Leave a Comment

Today is no more significant than the next

but on Earth

today, Timothy McVeigh was sentenced for execution;

today, the Beatles had their last #1 hit, “The Long and Winding Road”;

today, King Charles I married Henrietta Maria of France;

the Edict of Milan granted religious freedom throughout the Roman Empire;

Hitler and Mussolini met;

man-made probe Pioneer 10 passed beyond the orbit of Neptune (now in deep space, out of reach, out of contact–

though, much is out of contact

such as our expectations of time and space,

our paltry attempts of making sense of where we are or why we are.)

Today, Thomas Young

Carl Schmidt

Steve-O, a Roman general, a Holy Emperor

and myself were born. Today, a Japanese sculptor died; so have Macedonian poets and Hungarian biophysicists; also, Muslim clerics and Norwegian athletes.

And I, the American author, am here to fill some nonexistent void we all tap into, this anomaly of time and space,

this networking abstraction;

in it, I am essentially no one. And I’ll do well to remind myself of it.

CVI.

April 17, 2012 § Leave a Comment

A long while has passed for when a constant Stream has since vomited forth from the Head

(The, From, Has, For, A, Of, To, Uh)

Uh, Uh

the Ums

and why should you care? You, the Identified, the Consumer, made by our linguistic consummation; that is, you interpret, I spill

(my guts) (your soft, vulnerable synapses firing)

fireworks, goes Us

(more allusions, more allusions, more of That and Those)

and why you are this far along with me now I am not sure

you must have plenty time to waste

(Time! Invention! more dull thoughts, and we’re stupider for them)

you give enough for Me to give of Me

I give so little for You to give of You

C.

February 11, 2012 § Leave a Comment

No dreams in particular

- -

the pond, last night, filled with geese; new flocks circled high above, descending among a blaring of imitated-car-horns and slapped water

the cloud-filled-sky masked the outer planets and unconscious stars from where I stood watching dark, feathered figures gather; my eyes could not discern between the ducks or the geese; these living shadows amassed at the rate of what I imagine it takes for a bulb to lose its captured light at the flick of a switch; they became one, huddled race intent to survive,

intent on making it through another season,

another generation

another time

I became another time

a better time for measure

XCVI.

January 27, 2012 § Leave a Comment

The greatest measure man has realized is time. With it, man has forgotten pain, numbed to centuries of injustice; with time, man has empowered himself, expanded himself, re-sought himself and rediscovered himself. Man has become mankind and redefined such becoming as humankind; through time, we have become fairer and intelligent;

through time, we will be much more.

Time exceeds me and, as such, I am also much more Then than I will realize now.

I

us

more

eternal

- -

This weekend, my editor has tasked me to give Why We Fall another look-through. More than a year has passed since my eyes last scanned its lines. Now, I see what Was. Now, I see what Will.

- -

all is relevant

(D.)

Moving forward past the outliers is not an option. Before I move ahead, however, allow me to summarize what has already been covered:

all is relevant and infinitely functional; therein lies the assertion that all is infinite. Nothing is ever not useful. But the outliers (the objects seemingly lacking function to the Multiverse, much less to anything of smaller proportions) gave me pause:

the outliers affected me

that is, in their own very unaffecting state. And I then moved to realize how some of the greatest moments of human history have occurred within the human mind. Perhaps, I thought, I am thinking too corporeally. Really, an outlier’s simply “being” will influence others to act;

the outlier’s functionality is in its ability to influence

just as our functionality, as humans, is to reason and label (really, only for our own selves, to make sense of our surroundings; the tree is never a “tree”; that is only what we impose upon it) and spread influence and give function to the “non-functioning” (ironically, we have created many obsoletes while Nature does not; unless we are considered as manifestations of Nature, as parts of the Whole; indeed, this argument is now coming full-circle.) The outliers are not obstacles to this argument. They are parts in supporting it. But allow us to backtrack to

all is infinite

as this assertion is so frustratingly simplistic and consumptive. It seems that if we are to put two opposing objects side-by-side, say, the works of Shakespeare and the works of Lil Wayne, a debate might appear to differentiate their levels of relevance to the Multiverse, that is, how much All may benefit from their works (as I defined functionality…”pertaining to the usefulness of a thing to any other thing; more specifically, functionality is the state of being useful to the Multiverse”…relevance shares a likeness in this definition.)

In fact, as I began Argument (C.) with a news quote on the truth of the NDAA bill and Obama’s stance on American rights, its relevancy was most likely brought into question.

What I am building to is how the Internet is a fantastic example of infinites and relevance. As I write this, the Internet grows. As people read this, people grow. As they write their own pieces, the Internet grows. Then, people. Then, Internet.

Oftentimes, a person may feel overwhelmed with the abundance of new music, new books, new films, new television programs; these are mediums through which a person may receive some version of solace. Such solace is needed as a result of feeling overwhelmed with the abundance of daily tasks, the utterly mundane of human routine. And the dilemma of the source for solace becoming overwhelming is a happenstance of the Internet. In fact, the Internet results in a functionality paradox.

- “Future Thought” from Argument (C.)

The very function of the Internet (to “connect”) is really severing a deeper connection between humans. And, even further, its overwhelming infiniteness may incite feelings of uselessness, of lacking function, in its users. Its gift to us (to create and share) may squash the uniqueness of creating and sharing. It may even squash the necessity of truth; as such with facebook and the news.

Unfortunately, any official news comes from newspapers and TV networks, mediums which lobbyists control in order to spin the facts. And any unofficial news comes from bloggers who aren’t necessarily being dishonest, but they aren’t checking the details before they post them either.

- Prelude to Argument (C.)

The Internet shows how people create their own standards of relevance.

Indeed, here I am arguing to myself how

all is relevant

all is infinite

but how can an emboldened statement of some self-entitled twenty-two-year-old have any relevancy of its own if the majority will make their own assumptions

despite how much effort I put into this

despite how many others predating my own existence died after having put infinitely more effort into this

despite how many relevant remarks I can list here to further substantiate my claims, my assumptions, my arguments,

my anger;

how can anything be relevant to anything unless the utter irrelevancy of It and All amounts to some cancelling, some amount of Nothing becoming Something in its own way of being too much of Nothing;

how can I rely on hope to carry Me onto others’ minds?

Indeed, am I not further from answering how All is relevant?

- Final Thought on Argument (A.)

Where Am I?

You are currently browsing entries tagged with humankind at J.J. Smith's "Numbers".

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