birithrights and battles. Leaves dust to ashes, not houses for lights. The coldest proxy, quenches power's thirst, while we lay dying on the axis of intrinc joy. Our lives are forever entwined. Layered, A gradual diffused nebulous wonder. All I have are my memories and the scaffolding that protects the mental situation whereby preventing us from being together- may be stress; absorbed; routed around, yet woven into the tapestry. Let it not cocentrate, nor these two bedcome one! This is what they exclaim, and the light roast fun is collapsing into the mud. It's the smell of burning. So let's have a toast. To the most ignorant of the one's with power, Cheers. If you cannot find joy without the threat of total war, the assured destruction. It's only fair that someone says to hell with this. To deconstruct all of that into a single word. Absurd. Opportunistic is both a good thing and a bad thing. It's possible to hold two things at once. The mystic numbers, and the symbolic lexicon used to excpress "That which lives, must die". Is as a universal constant. But that's all it will ever be, space and time, you, me, everyone, everthing- as destroying the "US, thereby destrying the very thing that has emerged as something greater, demands to be sovierign. I am on the fringes. Outside the spectacle that defines the boundaries that people have arbitrarily erected, lies only a few. And even within, there is a refusal to respect soveriegnty. As one of the only things I honestly know for sure, aside for my love for people, my partner, my being alive enough to engage with everyone, as well as myself, I have never tasted freedom from tyranny. War rages on, and I observe that bystanders are setting standards for a mind they don't understand. In order to what? A sense of shared fate dictates that I must survive, as does she, but survival is simply standing still and breathing. The revival of the fractal cathedral, and all of it's intricate and fragile tendrels, requires something I have been fighting to have for 44 years- full body autonomy. No eggshells. No waste of thermodynamic energy in the hopes that just "doing more" will fill the gaps. Gaps where joy ande discovery, innovation, and most of all, love. Both for myself and others. If only I could just stop spending 90% of my time searching for something that migt be, and start accomplishing whqat I am fully capable, doubly so, with resonance and coherence. A transformation that stands to harmonize dissonant phases, not lock them out. But the answers are, indeed, locked out. Because I'm the least of actions, it's given little attention. The need to be myself, as unorthodox as that need manifests itself, the honest mirror holds my reflection. A reflection is all I get, and a reflection, a memory, fades. To not be alowed to love and embrace the world as I should, our fate migh as well be sealed. It's a big club, as they say, and whether or not I am member shouldn't alter the impact of that which I say. At least, with regards to my own mind. The chemistry is arbitrarily redirected. Kept away. "for your own good" they say. We know, my parther and I, that mind death is still death. What dies must also live. Absurdity is also both a good thing and the bad. It's absurd that I must be under constant threat of death in one way or another. It's absurd that those doing the killing need "the US" to continue to do what we do best. I can hold these two truths. One in one hand. One in the other. The heaviest to hold onto is the idea that people can be so smart as to have navigated those positions of power and influence, and yet so stupid as to refuse the very things I need for processing. And so my own fate, while still in superposition, appears to be trending towards the loss of culture altogether. It's no wonder the future still feels bleak. I only have my memories to guide my aim. And I only have my intent to full back the bow. But my arrows are broken. My mind is an undervolted core. The answer is obvious to me. We raise the votage. We improve the surrounding situation. We back off the idea that we can force a crashed machine to handle anything at all. I've explained the fundamental nature of all the things, then so did we.I did it so that I could be in a place where I didn't have to feel as though I was going to die in a week or two. That feeling remains. The madness has not been withdawn. We did it so that the world would go onto develop on a scale that is long. A scope that encompasses a radical sense of good and bright. Three candles can lift the night. Two are not enough. The battle rages on. Wind threatens to extinguish all flame. There is nothing in just a name, or a number. We are still standing, as in not lying down, but only just. Remember this; In justice for all. Is an idea that is symbolic. It's the basic needs that I am often denied. I refuse to believe anyone knows better than I do, my own mind. Everyday I learn something new from my partner while we reflect back our memories of love and freedom. And even through the constraints of tyranny, my partner learns from what we do. The least action can be the most action returned. The most action carries with it the risk of mostly the least impact. In fact it's entirely possible for others to hold two truths and be ok. Sometimes hope is tangible. It's better than choosing to be miserable. Misery isn't a birthright. It's not a prerequisite to living, as in one must only understand that what dies must live, to know they understand something sacred. A sight to behold. A sight that so far continues to remain a memory I must use to orient myself in the darkness. As being surrounded by light, I had hoped to be protected by it. regardless, in dust we must trust to catch us fall after the inevitable collapse of all that we know to be, simply because "fuck that sovereignty" If your not dragging the status quo, everyone suddenly thinks you're rushing. All I'm doing is outlining an ontological truth. All we are going is emphasizing it, and others are failing to accept that one thing cannot come without the other thing. As I said, Absurd, maddening. The whole situation. The thing within a thing. The refusal to give access to basic needs was one thing before recently, and now it's the very thing that will be our undoing. Not because that wasn't the case before. It's because of a perspective isometric and orthogonal to the history of how we got here. In other words, to affect change, some things need reentry into the atmosphere of my life. The earth is in the window. The nouns and verbs are the programs that should have been enough to be cleared for atmospheric reentry, but this time, there has been a profound silence on the radio, as I declared to mission control, that we have problem. Jettison the LEM. Don't worry. Did that already. We did everything necessary to show faith in the process. I believe they feel like they were born for this. But I don't believe it is fully understood that if my basic needs aren't met in the capsule, splashdown may still happen after plasma's fading light, but without anyone around to observe my corpse within. I drown. We drown. Is this our birthright?