Shared Node – The WHOLE Ball of Wax!!

We know some ideas are great, some are not… Let’s see how this one carries!!
The entire book of Shared Node by Robert Koyich and The Contialis (including glossary!)
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Shared Node

(Key to Me)

(January 2017 edit)

ROBERT JAMES KOYICH

Copyright © 2016 Robert Koyich

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 153912665X

ISBN-13: 978-1539126652

 

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all people that want to work towards their dreams.

This book is dedicated to those who are committed to the process of life.

This book is dedicated to those who refuse do give up on finding their freedom solutions.

This book is also dedicated to those that have helped me work forward with my goals, hopes, and intents to earn a life that I will not just tolerate, though rather love.

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Even if we don’t know where we are going, there is deep value in knowing that are many who are key parts of our life.  I thank all of those who’ve helped me with my creative journey.  Even if I am not living by the standard expectations that many others have, I also wish and invite people to focus on finding their own happiness, instead of pushing a critical eye or thought towards those that they don’t fully comprehend.

This life IS shared, and I don’t think that there is enough compassion or kindness.  Then again, I’m alive, so I do suppose that grace has been granted.  I just wish people can improve their own situations and free themselves of the shackles of their own entrapments.  It’s not easy, though I think it’s worth tending our own lives and gardens, so we need not condemn others for lives that we have not experienced as our own.

 

Chapter 1

Let’s Start Here

These layers of text and keys are to ease into the meld, with time’s fragments held between the thoughts and ideas of many points of life.  These rhymes were written and made during 2009-2016, and are stemmed from keystyles (full pages of rhyme).  This book will twist and turn through multiple nodal points, and from me to thee, some of those who’re in this world will find almost each and every key.  My rhymes and flows may repeat a bit, yet it is also due to keywords that are used and cycled.  When any book is finalized, it’s a series of text frozen in time with absolute form in a printed copy.  The shards of the book’s form though is still fluid and depending when and where the words are consumed, will evolve, and change.

 

Please into the freeze, and not just the trees.  The ironic and symbiotic ease will rhyme and resume like a Sonic Boom of time.  Muggie and Wedgie pledge the other three kids, as one of their own is to condone the seed of the hidden bids.  We heed the next generation with a noted exhalation.  The station of thought has brought us up to the stops of the mountain tops.  The crops shall flourish and allow us each of us to nourish our chops.

A wish upon a star to the Grover near/far.  I hide the tar bar and find the kind work to lurk in waters clear.  My daughters near this precipice, and with this acknowledgement, they shall assist her intent well enough without a puff on the porch.  The Dandelion to not scorch, yet a torchlight to ignite, and set the sight to write into the night.

Found to ground well and light the Shell House crew, we carry through the Deep Blue View and find a True Clue.  To tarry too, yet I don’t know.  You may show that they have heard the tracks that help form some of this flow.  From the birds in the thirds, Chilliwack’s nodes, codes, rhyme, and time shall share the climb to gel and show, full well, I must beware of the folds of snow.  Sublime to let go and shall help set a pace from stolen trust and bass.

We sup with the mages, as pages fill up the stages with a cup d’leau.  As though I have a clue to you, the thought to renew will help this process’ view.  You too ought to cue up two to a show, as a few will know the correct perception of that we’re not allowed to mention.  A matrical suspension of my mother’s lack of tension, and the synergy of instamention.

Conventional gifts of tone not linguistically thrown, yet we hone in on the kin to spin the VIN.  The piddled puddle finds a riddled cuddle, as a muddled refusal involves an astute rebuttal.  They fuse her well and hold the shuttle from the fold while told the good to scuttle.  Could we, or should we (or even would we?) till the sands of duallands when the first sapphire correctly stands?

Had I known that Ron had gone to sway the blokes with Cokes and keys, the drugs, not the Doug’s, might find well some of the thug’s life called back to MK form.  Shang Tsung brought a warm belle as we’ve rung up to chat with the cat in the dorm.

Again told to hold onto that and have hung up the myth to condone, the pup’s phone shall hone in on one to condone the seeds that have yet to be sown.  Prone to release mistakes as real as the feel of Teal, it shows the idea makes a blessed quest from some of the wakes that need to heal the nest.

They test the rest, as impressed, though guessed that the fat cat found the hat to ground the DAT.  It sounds like Bits and Bytes to cross The Lights.  Into sights that meld that held to weld how they’ve dwelled to cram the jam and slam it on breakfast toast.

Like the host to boast a coast, we find a verbose layer of text turn the next facts of fiction.  Tracts that refract the addition of the addiction and find a conscription of admission to light a darker shade of sight.  Maybe admonition the CDs are to be mp3s, and not the bon chose like these ideas they help expose.  The gift of a scarlet rose.

 

The shifts of this work will strangely turn more clear.  The use of the line breaks are to signify the points between flowetics (the form of rhyme written) and ‘English’ bits.  There are some MCs that I like and admire.  Back in 1997-1998 when going to SFU (Simon Fraser University) my interest and ideas of rhyme had started.  I hadn’t recorded at that point, though played a lot of music in my car and also hit up some clubs.

Though I know I’m not a rapper or MC now, I have an ability to rhyme and flow, though also am not wanting to perform shows.  I see myself as a person who’s to use written works to share ideas, and though this book is focused on rhymes, my two previous works (Finding Natalie and Searching for Tomorrow) were more focused on my heart, spirit, soul, process, and the connections between.  This book is more for recreational reading to let our minds play with ideas and thought.

 

Brought forth overtly through a covertly secret node.  The use of your rhymes on the road allow the doors and ploughs to code the field.  Explore the lyrics that have been concealed.  I have deployed a visual shoul on the controls of the dash.  You know how a rash response to a rhyme may result in much time, yet such a climb down to where I sit will share the writ.

Pair the percussion to fit a quarter bit of Russian.  I can’t do that (yet), and must let the fold of time and space set the rhyme with bass.  To assist the jet with brushin’ as still shoulically hushin’ my glacial pace.

Lace the lime, with Sublime, to trace her fact.  We’re not allowed to use the form above Norm, yet state the pact.  Take tea and words packed at that start to use the bird’s proper cadence in a sense of heart.  A literary fence will chip in tenses of lines to share and straighten spines.

The signs you leave etched in words fetched like a dualland will find the way we correctly stand up and sup.  That lined by a pup will find a wind of a locket worn  to be warned of the cup.  Her PLU8R will correctly sup and learn how we purr and turn concern of how we burn some of the things that we’ve yet to learn or earn.

The charts hold not the plot of the dots that connect my intellect.  The consect to direct and select a protective bubble.  To double the functions of the lines, some let spines mingle on a 1/4 pound single (to astound Mr. Tingle) from that that’s bound is a freeform show.  A flow that you can help tow along with the myth of the Ith.  TripKnowledge tone to share and condone how some of the the Jets hone in on the sapphire clone, and disprove that thrown.

I admire and pray you wellness for being.  In this situation, the consecration of this, Bis, is that the world will let us find our gals curled up well with bliss.  Peace, not a piece, in our arms as your four star charms set drum and bass alarms.

Start kickin’ the plot to thicken as some of the brew is how I thought I was you too.  When I was immersed in psychosis, by prognosis of my disease, some MCs put my being at ease with a sense of CDs.  They helped load up a code I could put on the road.

Canibus is one of the best.  The test of my keystyles is a way to communicate with files and flows above me to be blessed.  The fact they made and make the music blessed also relayed how some of the ideas have yet to be pressed.  Divinity too brings John and Nick King’s wings.  We pick not to need to plunder the stings that put people under the plot that sings.  I’m a vassal in a castle, one that needs not tassel with plans not yet brought to thought.

The dolphin pings the memory of Sonar when I heard their first CD.  I seem to deem the team as one very well to shape and share the spell.  We apply the sky to the reasons of why, as I still don’t know how deep I burrow or how high I seem to fly.  I also shy away from being an ever-seeing human being, while keying the mox to a sly and witty fox.

Told to think of the blocks and how the clocks hands dredge up the digital bands, pivotal baby grands in the sands of the hourglass pass by as a ‘check one two’.  Why and how we now plough through and do what we do to abet many more than a few?

I am glad for the lives that are shared, and even when there’s nothing to be paired to ear, there are those that hear the clear fear of my tear.  I wanted her so dear that I can’t even near that fifteenth year when my intent sent it too near to her heart.

Somehow like True, I do impart it too.  Their airwaves are inferred by my kitten when he’d purred, yet no life is assured yet to choose not to ruse.  We shall let a long lived life pay dues, as a lyricists lyrics in the mix of perception finds some have said a bit too much to the fuse the intervention.

Let the set get wet with snow, as suspension of this winter shall let us grow.  You help tow along the raft of my craft, and have inspired me in many ways.  Though not noted of my music that plays, I thank you greatly for mixing the blue to green like Althea Rae’s.  A keen teen that prays others hear us hone in on the tone of Mr. Bean through the maze.  When the music’s played, much information is often relayed and seen.

They glean the thought splayed in all directions.  With the use of time’s inflections, the directions they give allow some, like me, to learn, love, create and live.  Holding the communal gate to individual protection, that for and from anyone in any section.  Let us grow, develop, strengthen, and also strive to thrive whatever our direction.

 

Though Canibus is one famous person that I wrote to, there are some other key people in this Introversial journey.  There are four primary people that have influenced me and held me here at home.  Obviously Natalie is a key part of the story, and I’ve written some keystyles to her.  Gary Vaynerchuk too is a huge help and indirect guide.  (I say indirect as I’ve not met him, though have sourced a great deal of both ethic and lifestyle principles from him).  Neglecting my parents as third and fourth, there also are Christy Whitman, and (recently) Lewis Howes.

Christy is a strong heart and intuitive seeder in this.  Her inspiration is the notion “I can have it all!”  Lewis has given the internet access to The School of Greatness; a podcast where he interviews many amazing people.  Blend in Gary’s advice of meritocracy, and the heart stone link with Natalie, and it brings forward another dream I have.  That dream is (currently) restricted by citizenship and is linked to a February 2nd 2015 challenge I gave to Jeff Probst.  I wrote the next section to one who has lived that dream (twice!) and note that a brief phone call with them lifted my heart (and sprit) high up to gladness.

 

Woo!  Thank you for answering the telephone and for letting your authentic tone of voice carry through to the choice to speak!  Sometimes too humble, sometimes too meek.  The rhymes that I fumble from my mind, and keys, shall remind the kind breeze to keep these pages to ease the thought.  They also share the astonishing gladness your answering  of the telephone brought!

A smile pervaded upon my face when you answered from your place!  We trace out the lines of shared spines that mingle the signs that help seed our own (and others) lines of grace!  They show I am glad we place the pace, and continue to develop, nurture, thrive, and also grow on this planet of earth floating in space!

Although I am just a Canadian kid who found the idea to call, I do sense your mind wall me into the spin.  The kin too share that there is a deep capacity for gladness, and radness, that drips well into and from my heart.  I could sense your power and focus in my spirit when I first typed this part, as I then think of the one tender miss that we know not of.  One for whom ideas start to share an additional love with this!

Je t’aime Monsieur!!  The purity of my stained thought causes me to assure that the knot will not undo.  We come from some of the things which we know we want to have lined, and bring it back to a glitch to also thank Twitch for being kind!  We switch a sapphire with the meld of the fire of a ruby, and I thank you for allowing me the duty to be true too… to many more than a few!

From within the mind (and then closed my eyes), the rise and fall of the wave make me think back to the webs of lies and deceit that save.  Some spun in the cold and heat where the program we share allows others in the sand to compete.  Told that sometimes we pave the road we walk, the future will allow a lovestone for her shoulsman and loverock.

Although you, Woo, may have fandom of all sorts, the development of TKD is a principle, and not just another one of the sports.

The lines that weave truth into the fabric of space signal the links to shed tears that’ve yet to trace.  I still am living with some emotional and devotional fears that are covered also with a layer of bliss to find and follow through the years of the pebbles of bass.

I opened my eyes.

Though some will chill the Wry’s, heaven vies for a way to play and stay!  There also is a fact of a pact I promised to Jeff.  Though no return correspondence was left, I hope the dream and challenge will not be bereft.

I need to remember to pray!  I also want to, like you, honour my commitments, beliefs, and values fully through!

I wish to fish the eaves of leaves along the shoreline.  We share PLU8R of heart, and not a formulated design just to chart.  I thank you again for the doors to our being, as we help freeing some from sin and despair.  While we can hold others up high, we shall not leave them just floating vulnerable up in the air like a pie in the sky.

Though there are many that would set the net to cast me back into space, I too think of how to show so many and so few about how we develop and grow a life honoured with grace.  I remind ourselves that being true will find the mere tone of your voice helping myself, and others, to keep faith and also make the correct choice!

I ask you, Woo, to remember that you are one who deserves love and respect and unity and peace entirely true.  Though there are many more on this planet who cannot comprehend how the plough digs into the soil for communal fields, the idea to grow and expand will assist our own and other’s yields.  Though they stand in the depths and twist of thought (and soul) at hand, please remember that you maintain(ed) your honour and assist with integrity while allowing compassion also to band.

The notion of calling you too reminds me for some of which I’ve planned.  The mix of love and light and joy, and how we know too that there are blessings of which to land (like your very own baby daughter or baby boy to surf with you in the sand!)

Love and luck to you and Kristina!!

 

That moment when a jet realizes that they need a ruby for fire!  I don’t know how to warm up some people’s lives and hearts.  There is the case that there is much that I want to ‘fix’ in the world, and know throwing money at the problems is not often a good solution.

There are some friends who’ve difficult situations from a lack of resources, yet keep trudging away.  Some friends (like I) can’t work full time jobs and want to source income from their own creative and/or entrepreneurial efforts.  It’s also really cool when those friends still can reciprocate and help others find their ‘freedom solutions’ too, even if we’re not there yet.

 

The jest of how the thought inks the north, south, east and west.  She is to be blessed and pause to take a sip of drink while these pages have digressed and linked.

One of the directed reservoirs of two stars in a play.  They may even link your heart back to enjoying the moments of tomorrow, today.  The nest, the rest, and the test of how some things are pressed to be okay, the Fable though is stressed out to Robert Miles instead of to one that had been scarred by the files from the play.

The facts I share and reveal may show that some things are true to you, yet not something that we feel.  The green web of the TrueCyberEbb also shows what others deal, and finds the initial spines that wheel the wines.  The loading of the lines is a Simpson design, and while not ever fine, the idea took a look into how the book may be cradled in the nook.

They can’t see you, though there too is the fact that love is still not lacked.  Some will help us understand the impact and divinity of Shared Node and Key to Me, although tact is not a strong suit of mine.  This shall involute a line to those who help correct the actions of some who know not where we come from adding dimension to the trine.

Moment of attraction’s pulled out like cat’s cradle find the ladle lifting up the soup.  It takes us back to a stellar interlude of how I sometimes have been that crude, rude, and angry dude stuck in a loop.

They’ve pre-chewed the brood instead of setting the Spirit to let a truth allude.  The youth vies to tow the flow that went to and fro and back to the box.  Although I think there is an idea to lend the fox, the arcane sanctum is put back in the hand of the mox.

A jungle shrine to add Naya to the line.  An underground sea mixes how the audio comes and goes for free.  Some people do not have a clue how to renew her kiss that’s added you to this.  Dissolved kidney stones hold back the pile of bones from clones that need to vent.  Insert the mystic gate’s intent into how this lent the brothers to help share wares written to some mothers that went.

Although sapphire, I called earlier in the day.  I didn’t notice that the Angelic Armaments were also fused into the link of how, and with what, you, and they, play.  I wonder if I’ll lay down to sleep or keep up with the pup.  Some who hopefully will reach out to sup with Red XIII.

Think of The Fugees and The Score to glean the music in the room, even if I can’t turn it way up and let the speakers boom an embryonic plume.

We resume with two points of blue made through Tundra links.  Told that thoughts are in the mind, while the meows are no longer heard from Boots or Winks.  True too that the blue mox knocks on my phone.  I don’t always want to be alone, yet often am, as I hone that to be known from my zone to condone what’s in the hem sewn.

A message shown thrown at the other three of you in the curl: The green, the black, and the pearl.  It streams like junk when I trunk the water up to the sheep.  Those that got into the elephant’s canoe a little too deep may find this page too may weep, yet soon it’s time for sleep.

 

We may not know where the flow and thoughts are taking us, though recall the mental bus, and how we also know other artists (Ermac and Smoke) have reminded us of songs made called “Just the Two of Us”.

This stream will carry on and through into tomorrow… If you choose to continue reading, though, it’ll seem like I never stepped away… Twenty four hours are NOT held in every day.  Though the facts of this book are stemmed from so many different nodal and temporal points, that when done, it will literally just be one linear flow of text I chose to relay.

Keep at it… Thank you for this this journey!!

 

 

Chapter 2

Starting Yesterday

And we know that the past holds much truth.  There are things and people, and ideas, that go back many years before we were even born.  I had the thought of how my parents had lived so many years before I was born, and that they’ve lived all the years since then too.  If I can even think of how I’ve grown through the years to now, add another 20-30 years of life to just those two, and that’s only the one generation above me.

The layers of the past generations that are no longer here have helped form the world we live in also.  What’s true too is the fact that there are generations of life that have not yet been born!  I’ve written to some that are part of the next generation, and pluck some rhymes written to a friends daughter.  A look into how, today, the ideas and notions have crossed into the present…

 

This page was made for you by a reason why the heavens shall vie and renew.  The tears that shy away from my heart start to understand the depths of why and where we start, yet the sands of time, from my part, also seed and heed as we read this rhyme to impart.  Before going to sleep, an idea to keep in mind… things designed will allow us to find kind seeds to sow row upon row, yet not like the poppies of those who let us have our freedom so.

It needs to reminded that a thread will wind that lined from the ideas of the dove.  I remember them crying lullabies of love.  From above, testars of the night fill the mind with delight and will find our hopes and dreams to bring a right to delight!  Kinds of things that alight the soul too are held in control of above and below.  Though the air will refine and become warm, the mould shall form and let the snow gather this winter.

A storm shall not dwell upon the past.  We forget not that she sits with another now, and without a myth, we somehow find our kind selves near where the Spirit cats.  What was written for us is like a kitten on the bus, as an hour away from the way that the evening folds the mind into the day.  These rhymes reformed and went astray.

It will help us understand what I say, and in that way, you know we do have some ideas in the sand.  For many years before I held her hand, we did band and come to know that some of this will not make sense in a flow.  I know now to set that planned into the plough and shall tend the friend and fields of tomorrow to show some amend what we send into how The Contialis wields for combined yields.

I wonder about ten years from now and how we will be.  I note that I must always remember that some people cannot understand the eye through which I see.  To count to ten from two and three, and while starting from one, there’s a note and idea to play and have some fun!!  Although the sun had not yet set on the day, you may bet that we pray from today and tomorrow’s date.  In 22 years, she’ll be twenty-eight.

That makes sense for now, though the lessons from the plough somehow clear the moments sent from a verbose layer of text and intent.  The cosmos of more from you compares to how I need to repent for the seeds that assist and renew.  I thought of True with the thought QBlue, and though a revision from the crew, there shall be provisions for what we will do.

I want to assure Hope and Paige that their mom will be there forever; that some things will never sever.  We will hear the kittens purr as you will continue to love her beyond lies from the skies that shall not be painted blue from the top of SFU.

There may be confusion in the stimulated illusion.  The simulated conclusion of how we will, and will not, renew the how’s, the why’s, and the who?  To so many more than few guarding our lives, and also tending the only cable that will unite the tables of a DJ that arrives.

Please remember that your mom loves you more than you shall ever know.  Only a bare understanding of when it’s time for you to grow.  The symbiosis of the rhyme, the climb, and the way some too know of how to show, and share, the seeds we sowed when it seemed that no one was there.  Let’s realize the vast disguise of what earth is when the time is right to say ‘goodnight’ and get to work on our biz.

The rhymes are a sleight that Rob hopes may delight the mind… a way to wind down and let us rest well here in town.  The nest is the place where the eggs are kept when the mother bird too reminds us of how I’ve slept.  The words accept a radical notion that our love can easily cross a cosmos or ocean.  Verbose in the notion, a smile struggle potion lets her mum snuggle up to you, and be glad for her own devotion to sup with more than a few.

There are other friends that think a groovy rad lad has a tad bit mad and off track from his lack!  Had he not been sad that his dad had left him and his mom, we may not understand the years of where we come from.  Tears for some are rare, yet there too is the fact that they still have a deep capacity to care.  Even if not there, the whole union of our lives will develop and grow to share we shall be enveloped by order and protection, and how we learn to live and let it be so.

I also remember another fear; that a brother may not hold as dearly to how clearly my lover will remember the seeds that we sow.  From some time ago from a place we’ve yet to go, this prayer of love and grace was written from one who missed his kitten and knew we do hold a somber pace.

The idea of sitting down to beseech you to read this page will walk into how the heavens too reach and send others to help tend the flock.  Though we talk alone outside, there too are some that will help us find ourselves to also be ones to protect, direct, and guide.

The hands of time find the bands of rhyme to let this rhyme climb into how we tend some fields of friend for those cool kids who’re learning that, sometimes, like respect, love is needing to be composed for many more than a few.

 

The delicate balance of life does stem from the facts of the pacts made and revealed.  The ideas written to people can convey much about both the sender and receiver, though the words must also be held as truthful and congruent.  We sometimes need to clarify our own intents, and prayer is a way to do that.  Prayer also need not be religious.  Consider prayer (if you are not one to believe in God) to be you sending out wishes to the universe; that prayer is your heart and spirit and soul calling out for a desired end, or want, that your being yearns for.

My own journey of life has found me slip between points of view that have had me pray outwards in asking, and also thanking God and Jesus for the gladness of what is.  I may lack a strong belief or understanding of Jesus and Christianity, though I have called out to God many times.  If there are others also sending out their prayers or wishes, then too the world(s) are being shaped and formed and guided by a combined will.  Each day and prayer and person layering with time, one day upon the next, from all that have wished, prayed, or requested before.

It is together in this life we live.  Even if we wish to, there is sometimes also nothing that we may do or give.

 

Dear Contialis, and God, and those that read this… let us find the heavens’ bliss while here on earth.  To be soft and gentle as a kiss from our loves and to let our doves cry a lullaby that shall help share the reasons of why.  We call out to you.  Let us understand and respect each crew, and know how to interact with what they do.  Thank you for our family and friends, and for letting us have the things, and people, to explore how we shall make amends.  Though a wish to be deep as the bends, please allow us also prosperity so we may share with the world what Your heart tends.

Let us understand that there are more than things and money to share.  Thank You too for letting us be here, even if we’re not clear about how to care.  Please allow us to plough the fields, tend our gardens, and let us abet those without, and let it be the case I learn to be patient and help with our devotion as grout.

Too let it be the case that we need not chase our dreams.  Let us help strengthen and bond the different tribes and teams, and let us gather streams of forces stronger than all the horses’ might.  Help us bring ourselves forth to again see the Northern light.

I ask that we need not mask our authentic being; that we can abet and share the line’s keying into seeing joy, and that we get to have met our own baby daughter and/or baby boy.  Please allow the butter and cheese come from a flutter of ease, and ensure I act rightly without a ploy or need to push the mp3s.

Let these pages and prayers coat layers of protection about the selection of our own.  Please let the correct inflection be spoken, to a direction to lighten up on the smoking, while not cloaking the light of truth.  I shall not blind or deceive the youth.

Thank You for letting my tooth heal and letting me start setting the real plan from how I feel.  I wish a full span of life, from now until decades. The grades shall help aid and thrive to let that played drive home the point too that I will not smoke a bowl or joint.

Please anoint the ability to use mental (and syntactical) agility to share the underground sea.  Without death, decay, or deceit, let my voice also match the beat to form a sweet treat.  Please let the hatches hold well our truth to find an ever flowing form of our own internal youth.  Please let the set get met with snow, and let those that perform a show keep it together.  We’re refined by holding love and luck and grace to us like a tether.

Let people like us for whoever, and whatever we are.  Let each day and night be clothed and clouded to be just, correct, and right.  Let the starlight shine from a far away day into that that will bring the Spirit into the fray.  Let us learn to say what we really wish for, want to do, and shall relay.

As well, let us each know a higher power is at play without having differences of belief.  Let politics and religion not get in the way and let each leaf’s decision to pray and be actualized as a risen cup to sup.  Should people want us to tell a myth, let the Ith hold them out and away from tainting our beings in any way.

Please let us stay alive and be blessed with our friends in our current and future homes.  Let each nest be blessed, and for those that haven’t yet a home, let them find one and not be depressed or needing to aimlessly roam.  Let us have pressed on being true, and also be used as a testimonial of You; for the love of stone is true.  Please let her grow older and wiser and don’t disguise her heart.  Too let us find new points of life of which to start, and share, so that there will be a want to meet and make the time to be there to impart.

Let my mom come from her place of love and care, and still be here on earth.  There is a place where I’ve learned worth is far more than cash and material things, as you let me be able to keep some under wings.  Share the contialitic pings of earth, and heaven, for the one who’s body was given and represented by the bread unleven.  Let us be those who see that there is an infinite potential of how things may be blended, as being consequential after eleven signals and signs have mended.

Please let each person’s fundamental belief of God, in whatever form they may believe, help them receive the will to do good.  Should their belief not correlate to allow them to heaven’s gate, let us still learn that what we help create will keep others from being ‘late’.  With my faith to turn fate into how I (and they) will need not learn how to burn or set anger on a plate.

 

I sometimes have feared my own prayers to the universe and God.  I also note that there is one who captured my heart without setting a trap.  There is one gal that I’ve thought of for far too many years.  The fear is that I will meet her, and find that the years of thought and belief are merely a delusion.  It’s the case that my obsession and dream still has not entirely cleared.  I have poetically claimed that it’s an illusion and have pushed far too hard (and barely at all) for the chance to meet.  I shall not, as my focus should not be upon her.

Near two decades of sporadic obsession and focus doesn’t feel right.  I shall not search for her, even if there are ideas that others want to try to tell me that I should keep her as part of my dreams.  I don’t want to make this book a focus upon her, though she has been a huge part of my past.  Mentioned early in this book so I may carry on and pass past her, her page, and onto a real life.

 

A star who rose the bar and found me with the tar bar in mouth.  It seems there’s no chance of meeting or enhancing the south.  Glancing into the Abyss, the kiss finds the kinds of things like wings of a dove to float from below to above.  It’s like how I want to shove out a sprout and be me.  I can’t even see your face and hear your real voice in actual reality.  A choice made cannot fade the sunset, and yet though still, I haven’t made the tones of my heart chill to even clear near the depths of the start.

Pause, pause, puff, and enough is enough!  Please quit playing me out as the grout, as I want to turn in and out the doubt about every thought I’ve ever had.  Acknowledging that I am the thorn, the horns hold the pasture of love and laughter towards and away from me.  I couldn’t seem to understand the key is that I set you free.  They return of concern of how I burn without finding the thread in the urn.  The lessons we learn are beyond this earth, and worth everything of some divine concern.

I am like tears shed to wine.

A sour taste left in the brain and a memory of Jane; a sadness from which I maintain to abstain.  Then again, I’m just the kid who’s hid the bid of truth.  To share how I’ve thought of love since far further in the past of my own youth.  Tap, tap, pause, inhale.  John Gale’s post was true… that it doesn’t matter who we go to bed with, yet it’s who we’re waking up next to.  I certainly know it will never be you, True.  I accept that entirely too.

The precepts of crew construe my own mind, and how the dyslexia finds these vittles of delusion.  To wind and find I had seemed to think there were points to lead to a conclusion, yet I cannot claim the illusion.  About as tactile as one spun from the web of the son.  I run not anymore.  I cannot.  You are too far away from today, even if you were tomorrow, and we know that that day never comes for it’s always a day away.

The lack of my love is part of the myth of how and who I will be with.  For you there is only ever going to be one life.  YOLO!  I’m not part of YOUR plan, the missing plot of the plan.  A fall back to Stan shows this bit is to climb into my own pit, and find that those who will sit there will let our futures knit with a care to share.

Yet I too shall comprehend how my lack of a present ‘friend’ also shows that I don’t believe that it will be her I go to tend.  They shall not comprehend the cat, Nat, though rather say I’m the fool who deems that the dream’s not one cool to be okay.  So, Natalie, even though you’ve never met me, the tree knows, the sign grows, and the fact of my pacts too show that I’m not one out looking for the blue rose.

I wear halos and horn of nothing and everything since Torn.  I still note that the rings that Bryton played had my imagination laid out verbally to him.  I  don’t know how to swim in this ocean, as I am just a puddle and too far from correct devotion.  You were just a foolish and whimsical notion that cannot sip the potion of our smile.

I cross the loss of file and cannot even give the dignity to toss out the denial.  I wish not to deceive or weave a fable I am not able to live.  I seem to think I cannot give, yet this is merely a sieve of time that shall let myself know that I wish not to feel so much.  I know that I grow as I know to ‘let it go’.

I’ve been living for free.

I AM only me.

I’m so exhausted of the tree.  When they accost my Id, I too cannot have hid well from the fact that I am alive.  Both on the inner and outer sides of heaven, and hell, I don’t know full well how, or what, I could tell to you.  Even if we will not have the chance to speak, I cannot even know how far through the world our story will leak.  Repeating myself a million times too would not share the rhymes and how I wish the climbs to the mountain top would be for thee, not me, and for G.O.D., which might be the key.

Please let yourself be known, even if not by I.  Let the tone of your own voice be shy to vie that there is no way that I could ever tell you what the right choice is, or why.  I merely carry on and find that I finish this page and would be like a drink of fizz.  Could this be the end?  For it seems that it has never begun.  A web spun by the one and only TrueCyberEbb.  One who is only one of the subjects of whose heart you had caught.

Trod not on the plot, yet rather let yourself to have brought up your pup to sup and share a good cup of drink.  There is not even a story told about how the future events shall have us both positive and bold.

Learn, love, live, thrive and create.  It’s not your fault that I’ve taken the time to wait.  Correlate a state of bliss, as I don’t know if I ever will be the one to show you meaning clearer than this.  I sit in a tar bar of writ, and know that the correct truths that some people want are not what I may say or give to fit.  There may be billions of people on this planet, yet it seems alone with myself I must sometimes live.

To Natalie Imbruglia

 

And then there is the shift of my past spun back at myself from how others may use my words from their points of being.  There is the case there that I believed there was a plot and plan in Vancouver to kill me.  The things that go on, sometimes, on this planet are too much even for myself.  Though often my rhymes are focused on those I like or love, I should not negate my own hate for some that goes on metaphysically on this planet.

There are some that have goaded me and have tried to make me lash out when there is zero chance I will retaliate.  I am peaceful most of the time, though some behaviours have called me into ruby mode.  There are some things that I wish not to tolerate and there definitely is the case that some have called upon my anger into the keys sometimes.

Then there are those that have been lost to death.  A shoulsman that works at Starbucks calls back the order and protection.  When I visited their shop near the beginning of 2015, they gave me a name to write for.  Although modified, the next section was stemmed from a page to William Shatner.

 

The cross more than a loss of friend.  The sands of time we lend to each too shall show the breach of what is now to tend, the lessons that teach us to how we cannot forget of pretend.  There are many to who I have a debt of gratitude for what this is to allude.  The signs of the starlight share the depths of what is remembered as known right.  The sight may be more than the ocean and sea, as the facts of what we meant, and how the future holds the key.  The moulds of the tree hold that we sit within, the memory of one who was held by you closer than kin.

The spin of space and grace too show that they needed to keep emotion from their face.  Though earth is only one small part of the cosmos and there are ideas that our beings need to trace.  Released into space… a friend and star who tends our heart and shows that we too know we cannot rewind back to where, and when, the journey did start from afar.  A wisdom told from the quarry.  They will remember him for who he was, and not just as a part of the depths of the story.

I thank you both for the oath made to cross the universe.  The Spirit too will not be carried away from the memory in reverse.  I too wish not to dredge up the grief, yet the continents meld and team like life held on a reef.  I too seem not to understand the consequence of the tree loosing another leaf, yet seething in belief that the logic was right.  There is the fact that humans are not the only ones who are capable of love.  From the spirits, and heaven’s above, the dove calls out for their peace.

It is admonishing to know that our world, at some point, has our loved friends part of the contialitic release.  We know they are loved, and that the matters of the day must be set aside.  I ask we keep our own selves together to help aid, teach, and guide.  Though we reside on the same planet, the dreams and stories you carried through your show show that there is far more in reality that anyone has ever let us know.

Jewels of serenity.  Gems of devotion.  The facts of us also cross the countenance of the lost potion.

A notion to breathe and seethe in a feeling that has us peeling away layers of the other players too.  Those that work together with us form and renew, including, obviously, ourselves and the crew.  I send this to you with a wish that others too not forget to set their lives to bring such knowledge and love.  Some people see the night sky as an abyss, and not as an infinite world above.

From some kid who’s not yet known to share the rite, that the unity of all is bright in the world like all the stars might.  I thank you for allowing us to know them.  I thank you for letting this flow together the patchwork quilt into the hem.  I also remember that within our own earthly spirits, there is an infinite comprehension of that that has yet unfurled.  Curled up in sleep, the sands that we keep in the hourglass pass by grain by grain.  The departing from earth may be like another beginning of a journey for which we’ve yet to train.

Let the stars rain down in pinpoints of light, and even if we know they can never return, let us remind people too that much of what they did was fully truthful and right.  We learn to look up and see the sight of a galaxy in a teardrop, the fact that, for life, the intents to help and nourish will continue to spin like a top.

I send you PLU8R in full regard as it too could be said, each one we love is part of our heart, and not just a shard.  The guards of the cosmos shall find that spirits wind up and about the facts of our pacts.  We pay homage too and let those who know how beings also refract and find some kid who’s humbled by the loss of him too.  We wish that they cross time and space with rhyme and place with a climb to heaven to trace.

The sublime realms of heaven (and earth) are to completely understand the life in which they gave grace.  Love to you William…  One may not fully comprehend all that this planet may send as we know you may feel the deepest of any of his friend.  Live long and prosper!  He did too, and I hope you may share the reminder that he wished the same for you and your crew.

To William Shatner

 

And even if it started yesterday, we keep running into the moments of now, the moments of today, and the fragments of tomorrow.  The words and worlds twist and play, yet still before we can get to tomorrow, we must carry on from this point.  I can rewind back to the past, and recall what had been thought, or what I thought mattered.  I can look forward to the moments in the future, though I still am held here in today.  Sometimes even when I’ve got the plough digging in the fields, I too feel hopeless and wonder what I am doing and why.

It sometimes seems hopeless… that I’ve squandered away my time, effort and energy into works that meet so few eyes and ears.  The first line of the last keystyle for this chapter brings forward from what was yesterday, and into the moments of now, wondering ‘why do I do this?!’.  Why am I still held here on this planet?!  What shall I do?!  Sometimes I don’t know what to do with my life.  Sometimes I feel helpless and hopeless…

And so I write…. I write of my plight and gather the words.

 

The birds fly in herds while the thirds hear the Word’s.  I haven’t PLU8Red.  I’ve deferred.  I wish to have assured that I’m in time to share the rhyme.  Yet I did not climb out of bed to hear what they have said, I fear I’ve misled myself from the shelf.  I note that I float like a boat, and maybe I should not have wrote!?  Not sure what to tote, yet wonder of down under and of Dad and Sarah and how (or if) I should promote.  Mascara runs down the innards of her soul.  I have no control.  A somber foal to compress the coal.

Tears from the years, yet the aim clears to cleanse the lens.  The dream depends on my intent and what my heart sends, yet what must I do to renew?  Should I start anew?  So many and yet so very few seem to know the things I do (and don’t) do.  The crescent true, yet I know not what it represents.  I seem to think of the link and sickle carried by the reaper, as intents seem to be from the fact of a smoker and a creeper.  Running into, and away, from things like Little Beeper.

Climbing out of bed late, while hearing the Word that keeps me from being one to berate.  Has this page made me a mage to create an introversial mate?  What may I make as ideas to take, and show, how my falsities seem to shred the dream for which I can and cannot scream?

It’s like I abandoned the team.

Horses carry the plough through a stream of how then will be now.  The oxen are not here to show us clearly the fox’s brow. Though it shows that I’ve not yet come to know the raft, we will tow the craft across the river.  I am learning to clear my fear, and find the correct ways and words to deliver.

I send a friend to amend, yet I too note I should not contend or be one to lend the sands of tomorrow today.  I know that I do ask for some things when I pray, and in a way I believe the cost is lost as keeping me alive from those who’ve tossed.  I wish to put my anger away and step back inbounds for the play.  The fact that I still wish to earn and thrive has grounds crossed into file from my own lack of denial.  Let’s share and show a few many more years of love from the seeds we sow with each forming of a storming file.

An earthly host to remind the toast to hold my note without boasting the lines within the coat.  I shall not float and wallow in my own pity party, partly because this does help me.  Remember that I had pushed away some sands as this will let me know where we come from time’s bands.  Some of those that are still my friend will find that I cannot, and will not, buy my way to heaven.  I know not how we shall save the seed that together our divinity will breed to seed twenty-two to eleven.

I too don’t understand the hand that guides the tides of these pages.  How can the stages be a place for me when it seems I cannot free the ideas that are chained to mages?  The reduction of the cigarettes are part of the key too, and could it be the thought you knew who I’m meant to be for too?  I doubt it, and more often than sometimes, maybe you should too.

In time with the rhyme, we note the pledge given.  I wish to dredge up my past and share some worth with my Shivan.  Though my whim to not go to church found me up here on a perch, I too let the cursor lurch across the page while I don’t even earn a wage.  I am only partly aware of how there is a whole situation that holds notations of the thought, yet still the variations of my awareness are what skip back to The Dot.  I’m not an MC or a rapper, and though they flap her wings, I cannot meet the angels now as I’m a devotional plough to write to the Kings.

I know that I have yet to show that the flows weave into how other minds perceive this as we cleave together the patchwork quilt to form latchkey with guilt.  How can I tilt back and plan to have the track sup with you?  On opposite ends of the earth, will we find heaven and hell to evade us too?  What does Aeris’s birth want me to do, and specifically with who?

In the suspension of the rings that held a weld of Id, it cannot stand on it’s own.  My kid again to have shown that we may build and condone.  A house.  A home.  A fact of how some too note we roam about the grout as the thoughts start to be strewn about.

I shall hone the skills for love (and a way to pay the bills) and note I cannot work the tills.  The skills are in line with the sign’s note as the cats and kitten shall help share the written’s rote.  While sitting at a computer, I shall find her suitor to meet and take a seat.  She sent the tweet to share a treat of how there are so many and so few that know how to do what we do.

Through the Deep Blue View, a cue to speak, yet still to leak perception into the lines that mention a cycle of how now will be then.  The den and the pen help the hen find her guy, and without knowing quite exactly why, I shall vie for the chance to meet the corona or our eye.  I apply the reams and reasons of how and why with that I have yet to write and record.

 

The correlation of above and below.  Though I have not a clue what people have done the days before, I also must remember that my own past actions and integrity will help open and close some door.

If each day is layered upon the next like the lines of text, then I pray well that I may help others be protected from the layers of my own earthly shell.  Much of what I have gone through will twist into ways of teaching truth, yet there are ways I should not play.  How can I remind ourselves of how heavenly forces will let us each to live forever and a day.

 

Chapter 3

Export the Cohort

 The projects that I work on focus on different topics from different perspectives.  While there is a puddle of tracks and written work, they are not able to be formed or seeded without a consecrated effort.  This is why I refer this chapter as ‘Export the Cohort’.  That there is a collective group of people that have helped form much of my written work.  It’ll take many more than a few to review and file the text into the meld of how this is to be Introversially in the weld.

Mandanna Daemi has been one who’s helped with financing some of the recorded work.  She chipped in $50 for me to buy demo discs, and she’s encouraged me with a positive opinion of my music.  There is a recording made for her called ‘The Missing Link’ and is on the album Formed in Giving.  There would not be so much formed lyrically if there were not people to create for, and to help nudge me forward with my work.

 

You believe in me and my dreams.  I hear her silent whisper past the fast fury of screams as teams of horses pull the dredge.  The pledge is made to let the sunset fade, and although a page and a recording were relayed, I still sometimes from the will of God have strayed.  The moat is not betrayed, though I stayed well by leaving Shell.  I cannot tell you the full tones of the bones that hold phones to the clones of True, yet the view from the mountain top of SFU I cannot share with you.  Through the plots set, the sound stream’s blue, with pages like this, Mandanna, as reparations to you.

I still see through my own ruse of the crews.  Dues that some trust must be paid in the suit of spade, yet I have not yet laid out the foundation.  A note too it must be upon the rock as a walk into a mind shows the talking to be like caulking of that lined.  The threads wind quadratic measure as you are a treasure that I neglected.  Though now accurately connected, some choices have been selected to have us redirected.

A year later, this allows me to have reflected on some of the things I do and say.  I hope and pray, yet maybe don’t believe, that other’s love will be what I receive.  They cleave the fray of word that the birds seem to keep in nest.  Please let yourself be blessed, and although stressed, the spinout in the series of which to spout will find the grout.  It holds the moulds of how gold’s not entirely what I am searching for.

I search to keep the door open to being able to live and give.  I will sieve my own fable’s intent, and even if my own lack of purity has some sin and despair to vent, I must repent.  The facts of my cursing and cussing too is bussing some of where I come from.  Onto a notion of a potion of a smile to cross devotion.

It’s been more than a year that I’ve owed you this file, and you chose not to remind me.  Thank you for being kind to me, and for letting me free my own faults.  This shall be sent to you, from me, to your home, and the chambers of my inner heart’s vaults.  I have feared that I will not be able to support myself, yet the coral shelf too holds the folds of how this floral moulds my life.

We also share with those that are (or are not yet) husband and wife.  The facts found in the sounds of the keys show the ironic ease finds some of these things shown; tones of thought… a plan and plot… the notion from across an ocean that a heart cannot be bought.

Connecting each green dot to the moment of now.

A kittens in the written’s plough to show mittens on the paw.  Although still alive, I still think I’m all too often near a fatal flaw.  The caw from the crows across the parking lot see-saw the flows spot for the lark of the plot.  She flies free with what is not yet known by my thought.  Some things in life to never be forgot.

For now though, I dig the tooth into the bread.  When this is said, the series of words are split to that heard from the thirds.  Concurred and inferred at 90km/hr as told too that some things are delicate and fragile, yet eternal as a flower.

The powers of the mystics too find that the Nets hold the fold.  Some things spoken too may never be untold.  You should not have to hold on and wait for what I create, yet the actual date is lacked about this pact.  So while the eggs are cracked into the bowl like level four, I ask you to keep your heart open and forgiving for me not creating for you more.

 

Yet if I do create more, who shall read or play it?  There have been a decade plus recordings that I have made, yet my music hasn’t garnered traction.  I also write books though I’m not sure how they shall help.  I had wanted to be a DJ, yet that was way back when SP-1200’s were the best turntables.  My dad has cared for me well with this journey, though he and I both know I’ve not found my vocation yet.  I do know, though, that my dad does love and care for me, and that his wife has been kind and gracious to me also.  They let me do what I do as I fumble along my stony path.

 

I asked Sarah who to write for, and she said ‘your pa’ so I wrote you this page, even if riddled with flaw.  Although you clearly saw I was not up at 6AM this morning, it too is the fact that I sometimes heed the warning.  Though forming pages for people reminds me of the quote I did share, I also am so extremely glad that vous êtes MON père!!!  If you read this anytime after a week, I was still glad to be there.  I also note that, yes, sometimes my life can get as messy as my hair.

There is a community I return to in less than seven days, and I’m also glad there’re pastures for cows like Felicia’s to graze.  Sometimes it’s like the maze is the rhyme station getting empty, and I should be cautious of the lovestones that may try to tempt me.

I repeat myself quite a bit, and even if I learn to think before I sit, I’m glad that you and Sarah are two that have helped me out with a place to knit.  I refer to the fact that there IS sometimes impact in what I seed, and I too note you both have taught me a bit about tact and the life I choose to lead.  The difference between want, need, prosperity, and greed.

I heed and refract the truths that I need to convey as I continue on my journey.  It does seem that it’ll a be a few years before the delivering room and the gurney, and my own path should not be sweeping things under the rug with a broom.  Even if on a journey with the jury held in fury, the somber melancholy blend finds that there will be joy and love to send.  It is the case that you haven’t met many of my friend, and I am not as spaced out as when I used the drugs to tend.  I’m so thankful you brought me to your home.  I also pray you have a great trip to Athens, other parts of Europe, and also Rome!

Without a standard job I shall still grow up to be Bob their uncle!  You ARE a great dad, that I do not doubt.  I do though doubt your belief in my ability to assist with what I’ve writ.  Sometimes it’s like eight byte compressed to bit, and I ask that we again meet and share conversations, even far in the future in my future home’s pit.

A combination of faith and wit.  I can create a wonderful future from this very exact place where I sit.  We share some points of worth, with similar values in this life.  We also know I’ve been curt and have cut some people off with tooth, not knife.  I note I’m not presently congruent with some of the results of my intent.  Maybe I would still like and love my life even if I was one to rent?!  I believe that you receive and hold a belief that gold is a value a bit too high, and bring it back to our trips where we can look each other in the eye.

I could tell you a bunch of how I’ve changed and will continue to excel.  My works and projects will help me earn as well.  Thank you!  Thank you for being you, for being true, and for wanting me to thrive!  I also think towards the future and how again I’ll have a car to drive.

We are sometimes totally different people in what we want (and believe) in.  The spin to save some conversations more serious for another day past tomorrow.  I too hope and ask (and pray) that my choices will bring you joy, not sorrow, and that I too will remember to be responsible and not to lend or borrow.

I also hope I may prove to you that some choices of the voices will move to how I find my own path and journey… one where I will not need to lie, deceive, or twist the gist of what might also be missed.

It’s now the way the plough does convey that.  Because of the other day, there is a fuzz that a buzz will not take away.  We make the plan and plot dot the others whom I also cannot yet see and hug today.  The thought that some are not okay makes me think of a thought that ought to remind us what to say.

Dad, I now convey that another thing I’M certain of… that my love for you will last forever and a day.  Thanks Dad, you’ve done well with me, though remember I’m a sapling that is growing to a tree.  This is a journey to learn and share, and that I help keep people from setting up the falsities others use to pair.

 

My dad has shown and had unconditional love for me, yet there are lovestones that dredge up and know that there is some from The Fountains of Yesterday.  Though barely anyone has read any of my books up to the point this was formed, there are a few that tended well.  Sapphire Sprite was a focal point in a Finding Natalie chapter (the first book), and though I’ve shared with her a few pages, there also are some layers of code and Magic blended with some other gals I’ve called sprites.  There are still many things that we may not yet comprehend.  I’m glad for the love and support that people give me, and my own wish is that I will continue to earn, share, develop, and cultivate PLU8R.

 

I share the time to make care with the rhyme.  Told that some have a price, while some other’s take the splice of above and below into the flow to tow along the raft.  While you’ve laughed at some jokes, another craft’s in the mind with that that The Contialis is yet to find in yolks.  The mana comes from the land, though should we stand up and sup?!  Turn the volume down or up?!  Not yet known, yet when this gets recorded, the pages will have been used to speak for some others like the valley’s pup.

Today is the fizz of the drink.  Like a young bubble in trouble of being popped on the double, some topped up the drink with a wink to link the Hubble to the sink.  Though I also smink, sometimes rhymes are just like a Dunkin’ Dragon that’s trustworthy and drunk.

Elloquative in disguise, an elephants trunk draws in the rise and fall of breath.  You too note the canoe carries powers of life and death.  My wife was fuzz because of the delusion that does bring my lovestone under wing.  The sanity pings the rings of Saturn.  My concern of how I burn turn an alibi from the sky into how we apply to the corona of their eye.  The dreams will allow no one to need to vie for another to softly cry.  Why cannot we clear a tear shed to be like the cow chewing on like cud of what’s said?

I take my med and rift slowly into bed.  Like in mud, I have said things that have should not have been led by soul’s introspective bud.  Allow a full solid shoul of how the coals are compressed in the west, a test of who’s blessed will find if she really was impressed.

Stressed that I was depressed and in depraved states of being, the keying of this book is what the rook is seeing.  The Contialis was freeing into this thing that we are to bring, yet to share the pet and clear the debt with this rewritten after we’ve met the string of the ring.

The clocks hands swivel around one point that is (theoretically) the centre of where all things occur.  I guarantee you it’s not me, yet it may never (as far as I’m aware) be her to concur we see the kittens purr and claw the flaw out of my soul.  It’s a lesson I’m learning to let some other people guide, without wanting or trying to control.

Does this then mean, that although a teen, some have yet to have seen the keen insight at night?  That we read the need to grow a different form of light?  That the loss of our seed will heed an ever growing form of what’s right?  I thank all forces for letting me sort out how to share and show the ides of my lost plight.

An Oak tree will live many more years.  The seers of modern bards find the cosmos in a verbose layer of sound and shards.  It is yet to be bound by the text she’s to let us ground in sectional guard as she surrounds that found.  It will not be wound like the consects shaken by low frequency resonance from a sense looking over the fence.  The ideas shift into future tense.

The screen has the space to glean a ripple up your spine.  A visual gripple to incline the feeling that the tingles will find her revealing.  Bring the Holy King under wing and be guarded well like a turtle on the half shell.

“Higher than heaven, and lower than hell / Full well deeper than where the opposite dwell.”

Told that we’ll see the tree of life grow from a seed, as some people want, while other’s have not a need.  Still to proceed the intuition of our mission while swishing back the track into a full pack.  The saga that we do, and don’t, lack.  Our lives are intermingled and put upon the stack.

In the town of Chilliwack (in a province (of a country (on a continent between two oceans (with devotions from the starship)))) we find the chips of the brain in the series of words like a train.  I ask too that God may abstain from removing Stain so that we may cleanse the tears with rain.

 

The works that I have made are still puddled.  When forming this book, I drew from 450 or so keystyles that I had written.  The process of finding which keystyles to use for the sections of rhyme were a bit muddled.  A linear form of text is what had formed by the time this book was done.  With life, there IS only one linear flow of time.  There are many points and places, though the base timelines of life is exceptionally linear.

There is the point of time when we started as humans on this planet, and up to the point of now in our life, there are multiple points of when that ‘now’ is.  There also is my belief that my words (spoken and written and thought) are used and manipulated by people towards the points of fact that they may believe or want them to be.  Printed works are far more permanent as a set and solidified series of text, perchance that will assist the TrueCyberEbb.

 

Time to reveal the rhyme in the wheel with a reel on the computer.  Some girls argue who’s cuter to fuse her suitor with the myth of an Ith.  The story was told of how we hold onto the view of how and who we are.  Orbiting around a star while profiting with a tar bar, the requirement of intent too show how this shall be sent out to the grout through your eyes.

While the heaven cries tears for the years, destiny nears our fates at heaven’s gates.  Wait, hold on… mould the swan to share the dawn without a Decepticon!  The sprout shining upon the lining of the clouds with silver paint that seems too loud.  Don’t taint the thoughtstream without fusing your dream while remembering what’s ploughed.

Told you’ve never heard me scream, the Wendy’s team includes a few too that included you in the crew.  Though through a visual perception of things you hear us mention, the wings of intervention shall find the rings holding cards in suspension.  The King’s shards and convention will use the fuse earth with space.  While worth more than a traced thought (to have brought the knot up to the mountain top), the fountain shall not stop with the youth.  It will instead find and grip the tooth on the JBC, even if the term annoys me to swear.

Wearing a comfy hoodie or sweater, we show the flow is getting better.  There is snow to get the set covered in a sacred shroud, while the placid cloud seems to calm without the microphone in palm trees aloud.  An ironic ease and psionic freeze share the result of what the keys and mp3s are with these.

You’ve got a brother who doesn’t know his mother, though her children are to meet the feats of the Lord in accord of the will.  Without needing to smother, a forward motion will stop the potion and siphon an ocean to blend time with a smile for a friend.  Tuck it away in your heart as we impart a shoul to file that we tend.

Even if not for the chart, the lyrics start to cart a bit of the smart dart that they smoke.  A dove wearing a Whispersilk Cloak allows the fields to be ploughed with fertile seed AND the need to heed the thought.  Brought up to the table with Fable from Robert Miles, the series that I use are held in these types of keystyles.

Denial’s of the wall to crawl into Abyss.  There are some names in the mix with the creation of this.  The twist of lime into a glass of pure drink, and as the bottle’s recyclable, though rinse it out in the sink!  A link to the issue that another is dealing with, as concealing the facts of what is meant to be done with the myth.

Starbucks is a place I go to a lot, and the fact too is that I used to smoke pot.  If you can get through your many years without dope, booze, or smokes, it might very well be a great gift you can give to yourself AND also your folks.  I think tokes are part of what your sibling is doing, and the lines that I use are mentally fusing ideas others glue to my mind.  Many things that are not authentically kind, though, come from you and an awareness of the flow and the things that are pre-lined.

Wind the thread around the spool and don’t try to be cool.  Some people, like me, are a special type of fool.  Swipe the debit and credit, as the series (they have led it (and yes a lot of this has definitely gone through an edit)) to show the flow as a certain ability we use.  The facts some attach without ruse are part of their own Introversial clues.

Pay your dues, splay the twos, and help fuse the facts of our hearts.  Is it that the whelp plays the others parts that use and set news from the charts?  Please use your being as something sacred and guarded, as the terror of my brain is from what’s genetically carded.

Like a sprout, life is delicate and in danger.  The facts of how life is, as I ask not to rearrange… er… eee… ahhh… Oh!  Thanks for being a directed point (miss Shaw) for the creation of this flow!

When done your work, I hope you go home and be glad.  There are few people as pure as you, and that’s something I wish more dads could know; that their sacred honoured daughters are strong enough to let real love grow.

I was told that when a gal get’s married, she’s still her dad’s darling little daughter.  It’s just the facts that we must be responsible, and delicate, with some work like that of a holy potter.  Let the flow of time be extended like a fountain of youth, and let the sets get wet with snow with the entire union of our truth.

 

Yet still held here on the same side of the planet.  And note that… THE SAME PLANET!  There are many more than a few that know of us, yet haven’t a clue about what our own truths are.  There are some that see me as pushing my works, efforts, (and other people’s boundaries) and think that I’m just a heaping sack of goodness.  Be reminded that some may push lies at others to taint what people think and believe of us.  Please remember to fortify your own knowledge of self, and that you keep your own truths known and accessible to others.  Truth is crucial, and not so (sometimes) easily known.

I close this chapter with a keystyle that I wrote outwards to a general audience, and not a specific person.  Prayers weave in and out of thought without needing to form a reversion.  Conversions of our own intents also many change out own truths, yet we should be clear to know what is, and is not, true of our own selves.  We should also know that how our own truths change, other’s truths may change also.

 

Please read through this page and twist the lines I use into how you too allow yourself to choose to agree, or not, with the plans that have been brought.  Taught to spin into those who ought to convey the way we live, and love, and ask the heavens above to plough with the dove.  We let the signs weave in and out with that perceived.  Please let me set my bar a bit higher and apply ‘er well enough to how we share our stuff with those we do, and don’t, know to have tranceived.

Thank you for letting us each be here on earth.  Thank you that we may need not breach to have value and worth beyond our own understanding.  While the birds are landing well in the inner sides of contialitic guides, the tides too hold the oceans on all sides of where we are in the riddle.  Please allow the stars to radiate heaven’s gate while allowing us to stay on earth and not be found dead, early, or late, or even trapped in the middle of fate.

Thank you for letting us share what we know and create.  I too hope we may not need to wait.  Allow us to state our intents, and find that the rents and mortgages will be paid.  Our work and jobs relayed on, and from, us, by being true and understanding  of others on the bus.

We’re all banding the unity of life.  The facts that have been known too are shown to some who let us share where we come from, and what we believe.  Let us not need to deceive or cleave our intuition into omissions made in the series relayed when the tracks are played.

Thank you for allowing me to learn, love, live, thrive, and create.  Thank you for letting me tell True through The Contiails about how the heavens kiss the dream of us and our mate.

Thank your for letting me relay the nights into the day and letting the signs and sights of what we play, and pray for.  Allow us those who’ve held open the door to the flows.  A rose to keep wars from starting and to propose each to start to part the oceans with devotions of a Sayonite’s heart.  Tthese book’s rows of text sometimes don’t know what’s next.

Those Piccolo learns to understand will show sleights of hand that others too use to fuse for a claim of land.  A brother to stand and thank you for our mothers allowing some to know their dad.  Thank you for letting me have the things I have, and for letting me keep my pen and my pad.  Even in the digitial form, the consequence of how the computers help us hone our lives for and from the nephew of Norm.

Please keep the husbands and wives together and that children be respected, guarded, safe, and loved.  Although I’ve shoved the minds out of my own, I thank you too for the tones of voice that allow the choices made to ride into the tides of thought that cannot be bought.

Thank you for the plan to skip the plot, and don’t ever take lives away from things that you yourself would hope or pray.  Thank you for allowing the fields to be tended and known, and thank you for letting me this way to have grown up old and wise, even decades after this reprise.

The disguises that some use with the mental ruse too are something I hope you may choose to nullify and discard.  Thank you for the guards of the cosmos, and for letting me write so many verbose layers of text.  Please allow us many challenges to pass through unto the next.  Let us overcome our lost nights and days and find our ways to forge our being.

From yesterday’s gorge and maze, I know I come from two on this planet.  Please allow us to assist and unhand it without needing to un-band it.  Allow our planful plough to allow us to share and feel joy, and somehow find our gladness to expand our capacity to let us deploy!

Allow each person, not just the ability to see, yet to share, radness and glee!  Discard our attachments to sadness and let ourselves truly find the ocean to meet the sea.

The madness that some want to weave will not be what we receive.  A potion of understanding that the Spirit and our beings also cleave.  Thank you for allowing me to be.

Thank you for letting me develop, intuit, and be free.  Thank you for helping me comprehend that I am only one tiny fragment of a world that shall amend with what we send.

Let us collectively, and communally, share and have our lives shoulfully planned, and each be a pearl formed by a singular grain of sand.

Amen…

 

 

Chapter 4

Explicit Thanks

I named dropped a person earlier in the book.  The silent ‘double E’ after a V.  They are a person that may say they care what people say, not think, and I thank them explicitly for a great wonder of good.  They’ve inspired and shared a lot of PLU8R, knowledge, and wisdom for many more than a few, and though I don’t know them personally, though they have seeded a lot in my heart, and work, through their sharing of value and ethics.  I also have feared that I’m the ‘Rick’ that they were talking about, yet that’s a different line to weave into the fabric of the tapestry of life.

The idea that our world is so past synchronicity, and more towards the lines of direct synergy.  It finds us being bonded together much more closely than many years before the internet and cell phones.  There is the case that it’s far easier to contact and connect with people globally and (almost) instantaneously.  I wonder how much of telepathy and psychic networking will be proven and strengthened through our own exploration.  Still though, Gary… I wish you a massive amount of life, love, luck (and light!) for how you’ve seeded so much in the world.

 

Sometimes needing a word to be given before I can start sieving these pages.  I’m not an MC, rapper, or one meant to rhyme on stages, yet the wage’s are earned.  I too am concerned of some things, like the paranoia of mediocrity, or like acting like one of the kings.  The modern day bling’s like the ring on the phone.  Regarding a specific lovestone, I still wanted to have known, yet believe it’s I that she will not condone, so aside must have the dream be thrown.

I’ve not shown love well enough.  Some stuff like respect also shows how I lack connection.  I also need some to help to sense the direction of the cadence from tonect.

We select an inflected consect and community to overlap to redirect.  The rebuttal of the shuttle passing the angel wings connect, and although the tap draws the drink of a blue hooded smink, there is a link to remind that your EQ is of a different kind.

A mind too to speak of word is bond as the advice of patience too keeps me in to find the secrets of the ancients to renew and correspond.  Dawned from within a shell of rhyme, some have pawned me like a rook.  I’m not even on the board!  The other nodes of perception have some perpetually floored by the facts of knowledge when it’s adored.

I’m glad you’re thriving and carrying on well with your plans and plots.  I too note the boat in which we travel crosses oceans of thoughts as some rhymes cannot be bought, or taught, yet pulled out from the sprout that will help share the grout.

Part of my journey is to pair and show each person what I (and others) may (or may not) be about.  As we know, many in the world are those that we’ll come to know as friend.  I could advertise P&G with the Tide and Bounce, yet lend Stain to my mind as something I cleanse with a treat like Pounce!  She’s amazing Gary!  I cannot carry well enough towards the chords of how it was (and is not now) for awards and ‘stuff’.

The others in the gourds too show a link to my family and the Magic dragon Puff.  An actuality of the situation is something I cannot fully comprehend, and on the other side of the page my notations are what I hope to send.  I don’t follow trends so well as I dwell in my own microcosm.

The possum could show you what some think I do.  Cowering and hiding and waiting for them to pass me by too.  That’s not what I’ll do.  The facts of my own work will be brought together in the project QBlue, though through the forming of networks, the perks and promotion find the motion to be true.  Towards that that may be heard, I’m still not quite sure why I do it, and have mentioned it so often like the tapestry of word for some and few like the bird.

I’ve been fitting my thoughts with some people, and the poetics shift irenics to lift the crucifix of genetics.  DNA like alphabetics teach us that words carry value to each letter, yet the ideas weave well are like a warm hooded sweater.  I know my skill is getting better, yet far from consumption by many crew, let alone (for now) some many more than few.

I still value your two penny to renew the stash and the brash wish for you to keep love and luck too.  Mash continued support and success to find the earth working together, and not just me trying to get out of the mess with a mental feather.  Press on, bless Ron, and stress the facts of how she’s shone.  Even if not to meet the swan, I keep at the plough and remind us what’s gone on for points up to now.

The facts of my own tones of thought hold the plot deep in the plan.  A link to the facts that weave how no lovestone can yet claim I am her man.  We should believe!  The time is always now when we can plough good seed, as to receive and find our directives heed towards prosperity, and that we will help others with their need.

I read, learn, and weed out your advice.  The note’s value is not just cash or money, yet a concern is that some do have a price.  Keep well with your family, core and otherwise, and I wish you love and luck and that you reach each and every one of your prize!

To Gary Vaynerchuk

 

The links of this work twist me from noting the selections and contributions that others have made.  The battle between Canibus and Dizaster was one that sunk my heart.  Canibus was not able to form the third round, though Dizaster respectfully paid homage and respect with the final round.  Some may not understand how much influence has been formed by them, yet still explicitly set into this.  I used a page earlier in this book written to Canibus, and twist in a section written to Dizaster after seeing that battle.

 

I’m not an MC, and as far as I’m aware, I’ll never be.  I do note that rhyming is my key, and that thee have developed it way past mastery.  I’m not even a drop compared to your sea, lyrically, yet I still shall be one to have spun a web with the TrueCyberEbb.  You contialitically told me about the R held globally in the PLU8R philosophy.  Peace in every nation, love for every race, unity of every creed, and respect for every religion.

Other R’s can’t speak bars as eloquent as some of the things you’ve sent.  Kinds of things that keep Saturn within it’s rings.  A line from Eminem speaks of the notion of why be one of the kings, when you can be God?  The Sikh’s get a nod from me about G.O.D. in that they believe that the deity they believe is the same as Allah, or the Holy Father, depending on the way the Spirit is to weave.  I cannot cleave from the fact of how you’ve packed so many words and ideas to spoken pros with prose in the rows as those who claim lyrical death from your blows.

The fact too of you and Germaine’s battle held my awareness like a baby and it’s rattle.  I see in my mind a pasture of cattle knowing they would soon be McBLTs in a similar way your lyrics would cause one neither flight or fight, yet rather freeze.  Again, I’m not one of the MCs, and pages like these are merely made by a kid who’s got a minor gift of keys.  The keyboard shall not be swung like a sword, rather, I will write pages for some I know, admire, (or in some cases) have adored.

In the only battle I’ve been a part of, I got floored by getting pushed off stage!  Then I tried to flee while they kept me held in the club like these words on this page.  I cannot understand or create blissful lyrics that stand on their own.  I cannot speak crazy wild creative on the microphone.  I’m more like a preset drone who can’t seem to hone the skills that will keep me from being crumbled and/or known.

The video shown today reminds me that lyrics are not just life and/or play.  I note some people would assure me that I’m not even suited to let my voice block silence in any specific way.  I generally am not even a rapper, or a just a shoulsman to tap ‘er.  I’m like the flapper on the bike that seems to not block the water when it’s like Kyle’s brother Ike.  I used to think I was to be an MC, yet videos remind me I can’t even free myself from preset fit of writ.  Some of what I spit doesn’t sound creative or even close to at all as well as some of the rhymes you knit.

Then again you would spit like eight byte to bit.  You would eat up the pup, give a gal a rub on her seffable cup, and turn the voice and volume way up, beyond the point of too loud to sup!  We correspond with the fact that no one else will ever be able to make a pact so right as the stuff you’ve said from your own internal fight.  Good thing too that I have awe and not freight.  Some of the things said could scare me right out of being white, and find that the kinds of things I would become would never be.  Something clever that only the aliens would be able to tell of me.

Coming from a perspective of the primary directive (and cubed out like a Borg), a synchronization with a belle on the Korg.  A bit of torque to bring Mork back to New York with the cork to pop once the time-travel unwinds the top.  Back to one who’ll continually thread the winds and give, to also stop others from suffering as this rewinds time, distance, and awareness back to the sieve.

I sometimes am concerned and covering that already lined.  About being unkind, I see how some wind you up like the clock of a bomb, that you form correct statements, and then unlock the shock of walking the talk.  Some also by speaking the leaking of the walk of the psalm known by Spock.

Anyhow…  I thank you for being you.

Beyond the point of blue, there is the fact that you have seeded good seed in my mind from the video this kid did find.  Even if we don’t know that some things are not always pre-designed, you too seeded the ideas I’ve needed to know about how my lyrics are not hot (or set for the Dot).

I’m not a king (or queen) or even seen on the board.  I’m just a kind kid who’s got a line of thread through the gourd that links to how some things in life are accurately implored.  Sequenced by some thoughts to keep the sands of sleep in the things of which we reap, and sow, so some may tow along the flow.  The correct perception of things we can, and cannot, mention about ‘the shooow’.

I bid for you intervention for anyone who’d even think of believing they could rock you like hydraulic suspension.  From a mention of time and place through rhyme and bass, I ask that we may climb with grace to a Sublime and heavenly place.  To each find a kind notion to teach the word heard to be free, clear, and not slurred like the speech.  With a temporal breach, some others cross the boundaries of how your spirit too does reach.

To Dizaster

 

I am a fool to dream.  I also know I refuse to accept mediocrity or a life that I would hate.  There is one dream that I have, like, zero belief in achieving.  According to the current parameters, all contestants must be U.S. Passport holders.  I don’t have a U.S. Passport, I’m Canadian.  Still, though, I sent a challenge to Jeff Probst of Survivor that is summarized as “If you let me compete on the show, I will quit smoking.”

If at any point in the future I receive a message from Jeff that says he’s accepted the challenge, no more smoking.  It’s not his (or anyone else’s) responsibility to give me the seed of a full quit, though if I ever get a message from him saying I can compete, my ciggies are gone.  Six months of no-smoking before competing are to be my commitment to earn the right to play.

 

Jeff!  I gave you a challenge twelve days ago, and now this flow shows where I’ve been in the spin.  Although I too believe that I might not be able to compete (let alone win), please let me share some of the how, and the why, for the reason I did apply.

Competing on your show would require that I dig deeper than ever.  Competing on Survivor too is something I rationally can’t think to seem to do, yet wish not to sever from dream.  Dreams are what make the hearts yearn towards (sometimes) even the next day.  While you may not receive what I type (or say) the fact is you and your show help me pave the way.

I want to relay onto many a few pennies of thought.  That life altering changes may be made for, and from, those who have been cast a spade.  Although I still haven’t yet played the game, the same is not true for many that you know.  You have seen some people develop and change, and for the better, completely evolve, develop, and grow.

You thought that Spencer wouldn’t last.  You’ve seen hundreds of people compete to outwit, and outplay, and outlast.  Although those hundreds are only the choice few that have been cast, there are other survivors who’ve battled with drugs, mental illness, and some other types of things from their past.  We also know that they too understand that it is never easy (and sometimes it’s never) that they admit defeat, and that sometimes we grow slowly, not fast, in a life that’s nowhere near complete.

My greeting was abrupt… Just a challenge from another fan to drop the addiction of cigarettes to be part of a larger plan.  In Season 30 Dan finally got to compete, after applying for more than a decade just to wade in the sand, wind, rain, and heat.

The bugs eating some up, while some of them too have no water to drink from a cup.  I wish to gift the world love and luck and hope.  I want people to THRIVE, and not just cope!  My past has been tainted and cannot be painted alone.  There are some who want(ed) me dead, and others helped them leave me (and others) well alone.  There are some things I don’t condone, and too noted that I wish to hone myself to be placed up on the tribal counsel shelf.

Regarding ‘digging deep’, there too is the contialitic contract I keep.  I am okay to sacrifice food and sleep.  I am okay to feel so alone that there are no tears to weep.  I’m okay with finding a way towards a better end for my being.  I’m okay with some things being stopped because few are now seeing.

I wish to partake in the ritual of Survivor.

I am not aiming to be the winner of all.  I am merely wanting to immerse myself the situation of the game and get up EVERY time I fall.  The call is yours to make; to let that wild Canadian kid Rob help show how one can still be real, even when many choose to shred the dream and leave nothing for the take or deal.

My motive to play is to expand and work towards what is in my heart.  This may not necessarily be that I am to be on the show as an active part.  It may be that the path for me is to key and set love free into the hands of God and destiny.  I will keep keying pages and advance through stages towards the future with light and love and hope.  I will continue to work inspired by you too in that I (again) will thrive, and not just cope.

As the course of time unravels, the travels of a shoulsman too shall show and prove PLU8R to be true.  There are many more people that have made a similar request of you.

Thank you for being an inspiration and for creating something of which for to dream, as we know sometimes a tribe is stronger than any other form of team.

Love, Luck, and Light Jeff…  Never lose your ability to nurture, foster, and support another’s stream.

To Jeff Probst

 

I’ve also intuited that I should not be so focused on my dreams or other people’s issues.  I mentioned Shayna earlier in this book (and saw her earlier today also!).  About two years ago I fielded the question to some people about WHO I should write to.  Chris (of Starbucks) recommended that I write to Geddy Lee of Rush.   I had.  Shayna though thought of a different link to write to.  We also note that the eight years of their work has had an effect that some people may not fully appreciate.  Being teetered on the balance of the world due to a political situation.

 

Guided by a tide of thought allowed to exist by those that have fought, and won.  Although all of earth is merely orbiting around the sun, there too is the fact that pacts that have been made shall let the daughters wade in the pool of lawful rule.  You cannot comprehend (as far as I am aware) the depths of soul that shall thrive there.  I too cannot assure that I will get to meet the faint perfection of the world made for us.  While told that the bus of life is guided by those who don’t yet know the depths of how, this is to show that the debt I owe is beyond the awkward measure of a contialitic treasure now.  The pleasures of time share the rhyme with the climb down from the sound stream that a team of horses could not contain.

When written, the crisis in the Ukraine.  Sane notions of crossing borders and oceans too shall hatch the devotions made to link back to Chilliwack, the town in which I live.  Although I cannot give you this page yet, the set stage of events share how intents of individual people are not always known, even when the person is trying to exert their own subtle tone.  No rebuttal to that thrown into the facts that I condone, though not yet have shown.

Though the world has grown up to sup and focus on the minute details of people with a critical eye, there too is the fact that some cannot comprehend that that is blatantly known.  I cannot yet understand the links of how some think that the brink of a war is something that should be kept behind locked door.  Although some have mocked how many have merely chalked up blind fate, its a kind way to state that they may not want their own responsibility to form and have an opinion.  Then too noted some people have been told to keep quiet and not speak up because of orders that were given.

My Shivan is still living, though I know not his opinion of you (and to what extent he knows about what you do).  I too note that I wonder if I was to be smote.  Still covered with a clear coat of grace that allows me to stay alive for the human (and alien) race.  I too note that nature and the wild also allow my heart to have smiled, and that as the populous grows, there are some who act like crows.

So while some of those things that have been done include having some people deluded with belief, some still shall stand strong and true where the flag holds a Maple Leaf.  There is not anyone who yet knows what has been done that will result in our own contialitic web to be spun.

What I ask of you is to remain true and allow each person to plough the fields for combined and shared yields.  The metaphor of the plough too shows that some, like me, somehow cannot seem to understand that the battles, on and off land, are a stand that are meant to defend if needed.  Instead of trying to have seeded wars for the cause of things that have others fighting, I still wish there be truth and righting, even when sighting perceived flaws and other things igniting.

The caws of the crow show that we are yet allowed to hear with our own ears (and wings) that there may (or may not) be danger near.  What I would like is to know explicit and clear is truth of our globe without having to hold secrets clear of the eyes or ear.  The youth who want to assume that they’re near to the booth find the facts that have been spoken, and extend forwards into the future many years past the generations of now.

I fear that the world is scouring how a sleuth was devouring falsities and calling them truth.  So while I’d like to be free to earn my life, I rely on the support of others and fear the fact that I will not be able to have enough tact to show that, while the deck IS stacked for some, that that too may be where I come from.  I do not want to play dumb.

I also note that assumptions should not be preached.  Even if this has reached the point of me knowing that I’ve yet to understand how I do create value in the lives of others, I wish to grow old and find that some kinds of things cannot be saved by stings.  The wish also that the rings that I used to own will have shown that we’ve yet to discover that I too know the fact that your life’s God’s pact.

To Barack Obama

 

It’s not an easy situation with so much focus.  My rhymes are sourced initially as a coping mechanism.  Through the years they are still winding into being a formed structure of thought that can be used to mix in, and with life.  Even now-a-days it’s helpful for me to read through what I’ve already written to delve further into what is true (or not) in the situations of life.  It helps me find some notions in the words I’ve written.  There are some female artists that I played a lot when younger.  Lisa Loeb, Natalie, Madonna, Jewel, and who the next section was written to… Sarah McLachlan.

 

Your song ‘I Love You’ was on a couple hours before dawn.  My father’s name is Ron, and his wife has the same first name as you.  Through the True Clue, I may find the lovestone with the first name renew some who don’t have a clue about how you were so much a part of my life at SFU.  It was then when I thought that True was to be my wife.  They slice into the device that shares some things without price.  Some are, and are not, nice, yet the pens ink starts to sink into the drinks that we sip on each trip into The Mana Pool.

I am a fool to spool the jewels of thought into that not yet sought (or bought) as I ought to convey you do sing some of the words that say the birds are at play.  While they seem to pray well on both sides as well, I still now seem to deem that I am in both heaven and hell.  Eleven people dwell on their side, while the other seems to coincide with the lide cried into the tides of how we abide in the ride with the stereo to guide.

Told that we see the glee and joy, though how can I seem to deem the ploy to be ruse… that they fuse as a way to pay my dues into the crews with the cues to speak the twos.  The news and a leak of the source to the coursing currents of the thought streams… hurtling dreams into the seams of the textile.

Each file is like a tactile breach of how her smile used to cross my face.  Now it’s like I’m a loss in place of a tie.  No telling how, when, or why I could, or should, win the meeting of kin.  It’s now how then is now, and in the tin to recycle and reduce.  A wish to not reuse or refuse that the shoes are on the feet, yet conduce some to come and meet from a street with a beat sweet as a crystal seat.  Pause, play, puff, repeat.

I note now that although the flows have been used from some who share the place where I come from, some swivel the chair to chase the grace into the thoughts that lace my drivel of bass.  We find it upright and wrong about how the songs have been created with the facts misstated.  There is no way I could love her if we’ve never met, and that too is what I am trying to let my dream set in stone.  How can she be known for my love, if shown only things perceived of her and the verbal dove.

The sight of her on the television to hone the decision known from skills for love and not bills.  The tills hold the mould, while the folds of time and space find a kind rhyme in place.  The climb into the winding trace, the treble and the pebbles are in the grace that she sees and shows you, Sarah.  The mascara was streaming years before I was dreaming of her.

How can PLU8R still ensure that I may see into the eyes of the lovestone, even if she is sitting next to me?  In the song, I heard you say the word shoul, though that’s my spelling.  Propelling forward like a nerd through a bookworm, a firm memory of how you were on the stage, and note now its now on the page I plough.  How a cast and crew of millions of people that have shown, that although the flows are easily made, it still is I that they have not played up to now, even that that is recorded.

Our shoul is easily afforded through a discorded preference to sense things without pulling strings.  I still open the door to the rising staircase to again bring the plans back to the track made from unity and Grace.

Some stray away from what I say to the women that may (or may not) find the plan deep into the plot.  A dot on the force of how the Norse may carry the lost stolen berry.  We parry back with a track from some others from your home town, while the Swollen Members hold the noun.  A stone to hone while my tones fumble and mumble towards the text you see.  How you still seem to live and love a dream without anybody standing next to me.

I thank you for carrying on and through by doing what you do.  I think of the link and how the plough digs deep from earth with the gigs to reap worth way more than a dollar sign.  To incline the spine to stand like a line.  In the stanza, as then their metaphors open doors and close the window with a myth of her master key.  Syllabatics and the sea that is to hold back the track with one to lack an empty pack.

To Sarah McLachlan

 

There are lots of kind threads to wind us up and out of this mess.  I press on and develop the lines of this chapter by that written to famous people that I don’t know.  One lovestone was tipping her toes in the water, yet I’m still playing in the dirt.  The nodal points flux a bit today and remind the kinds of things that let life result in what happens when we work, and don’t play.  The webs of deceit that others use are also what some of you help fuse with your own truth.  Choose wisely.

 

G’day to the play of words that make sense to the birds!  Some claim to be nerds while the thirds are split by two through the view of what we do.  Some green, some blue, and a mix of the cliques from you.  I bought the book ‘Tribes’ and have called myself one of the modern scribes.  I too create Shoulspeak and mix in some to take a peek.

A ‘mana leak’ is a card from the game Magic, and indirectly ‘on fleek’.  It helps keep my life from being tragic as I dream of a home to roam around the MindSound.  Told that destiny is the fate of which we’ve not yet unwound, do we weave to leave that found?  Or do we turn around and stop on a dime every time the rhyme finds the kinds of things that divinity brings?  To keep us in the tears that weep wings of magnificence as senses weave in and out of what we perceive.  They cleave to our thought.  Will that brought up to the trip quip with a felt tip into grip when I plan and plot?

Too many keyboards swung like broadswords, when hand written chords find some to cling to the Lords.  She affords the correct diction (in a poetic affliction) of how the cigarette addiction is another contradiction.  If we’re on the side of life and want to thrive, then why all the smoke and other stuff when we drive?  Strive to improve and move the text into the next moment with a quotient of intent… to let it be heavenly sent without a religious vent.

Insidious lament when I repent about the grout.  I think this keystyle is a way to spin out into the middle, and piddle another riddle into the vittles of wasabi.  They’ve got me hanging on a thread.  Good thing we keep firm feet on the beat to grip and hold us to the docks with a cleat.  Said that gold is the one thing in life some think too sweet…  some compete, some delete, some are MCs, while some are street.

I rarely go back on lines that I make as the torrent of the present are like a boat with a wake.  Some real.  Some fake.  Some reveal.  Some bake.  I cannot know the subtle flow that you tow along in the crafts of the time to take.  I also cannot show the rebuttal slow, or even quick, with the shift of pace and how the lyrics stick the model and make.

I write you Seth, as you aid, guide, and help.  I didn’t though keep out the reference of my father a Shivan, and I a Dragon Whelp.  I am glad to be well, and well enough to be glad, though because my dad lives in Australia, I get to visit him at his pad.  I heard an interview with you on the net, and thought of how I write and let us play and let the situations set.

The night’s constellations met today.  No one else gets the Jets from Gary by the way of a misplay.  Though the basic structures of cadence seem to restrict in every way, the use to conduce a prayer in a layer of thought, or text, seems to show the connections made up to now will stay.

The ink of the next idea we link.

I think that even when misaligned when doing dishes in the sink, I cannot impress you that I do (or don’t) or will (or won’t) want to smink.  Yet thoughts, this exercise in writing might allow a sighting of the flow  Told that even an entire field tilled with good seed, needs water (and light) to let it grow.

Should we create regardless of what others will do or say?  I seem to think we shouldn’t, as it allows us to find a way to play or weave, and heave the line, to add a bit of rad with our own subtle sign.  Let the sacred series of pages set with Id to refine that that they too shall aid in design of my and my lovestone’s kid.

I wrote this to you for the fact that I’ve lacked accordance with the masters, yet told some hold my links that pale as alabaster’s.  A moment in time held by each thought and word we use.  We shall often find our abilities when we allow ourselves to fuse.  The ruse, the dues, the cues, the ‘who’s… even the message that we choose.  It’s all cross coded with the colours of the red, white, green, black, and blue’s.

So much text and dialects that are not mentioned in the post.  I link to think about humor and Sergio and the ghost.  Toast to bread from when it’s said, though the poetic fashion true, shall find the fact we guide, mould, and act as an extension of truth from some like you.

Thank you for blogging and not flogging dead horses by keeping the ideas fresh, as told that links that humans hear are also part of the contialitic force’s mesh.  Soul to soul (when shared in shoul) we are in our own tone of thought, and not control, though five years later added we’ll still earn and develop our own role.

To Seth Godin

 

I am explicitly a fool.  There are so many stones that I have passed by without being linked to love.  I have wished for unity, though often seem to call it against myself.  I wish for peace, and when it lands, I’m not even fully sure what to do.  The notions of the Philippines also do wind in my spirit, as my heart all to clearly hears it.

The fact that we’re on this planet is a wondrous mystery to me.  After decades of effort and life, I still haven’t earned my own way, or found myself to set myself aside, sometimes.  I’m still too focused on imagined dreams and have brought isolation upon myself.  If I get all trapped up in my own (or other’s dreams) then how am I to wake up into life and share it with another?

 

Tears flow from the sight of the show.  The delight just to know that there is a night to share and grow.  Although alone, there is a tone of thought that I’ve brought to sup with the cup that shall overflow.

Let the cosmos be so.

I am glad to be alive, and though I arrive at this point of being, I still am not seeing into my own heart.  The chart is not where I wish to be, and in the dreams that I’ve tossed aside, there still hasn’t been found the one gal that shall start with me to also guide.

An underground sea of love and devotion, yet a potion of her smile hasn’t crossed my countenance in a while.  The facts that I have known and forgotten might be potting some notions that have crossed many oceans with thought.  Tossed away the very potions of plot, and while told that I ought to continue on my journey, it was her that I thought was being pushed through the hospital on a gurney.

There then too is young Jenn in Surrey, and the flurry of word that (sometimes) makes sense to the bird.

The few pence chipped in have heard that although the kitten has purred, the written must be cured before being brought to your eyes and ears.  As the lens holds the wise fears of having no girlfriend, I too must amend with the hearts from the love I seem to have lacked to tend.

We shall have sent and tracked the soils of Atlantis with a symbiotic kiss!  The facts too seem to hiss at the dream of holding a true loves team.  A few reams of paper written while sitting at home or the coffee shop, yet still able to top up the drink and drop some ideas into what we think.

I am a link between the mind and the sound.  I am a kind of weird bastard that thinks some love still shall be found.  And while around the bass bin many years ago, I too recall getting tossed aside.  I myself as one who they didn’t want to hear or let reside in the club or on the shelf.

The dream that I’ve stomped on and crumpled up like a pile of rubbish keeps coming back to my awareness, and sets itself back on my plate like a delicate dish.  I  have sat too often to wish.  I am the one that is to hold the bold stare of none being there, because it’s I that seems to be the one who doesn’t seem to care or share.  I also wonder why I keep writing to and for people that wish not to read, as far as my heart has yet to heed.

I am a Yellow Overtone Seed that seems to need well the forces of heaven and hell; one that seems to deem himself alone here in his body within an earthly shell.  Full well, though, I wish and desire to live, love, and thrive.  I am allowed (thus far) to learn and create.  I also want to help more people (and myself) find a real and authentic mate.

Although I too recall being five and wondering when Santa would arrive, I want to know the Glass House as a real thing.  It is something that will be good for many, and good things for which to strive for sometimes cost a pretty penny?

I am one who’s almost always between the past and future ping.  One to have passed the ring into an awareness that the night has yet to sing and bring.  I am one who believes in God, in a strange and esoteric way, yet I don’t seem to remember to repent so often, even as an alternate form and way to pray.  So while today is a day that I should have stayed at home, I too wish to roam about the grout and share some things that seemingly haven’t developed past the notion of a sprout.

I was told that right is in, and left is out.  I still wonder of the life that I will live.  I shall help give and grant perspective.  I will help others with what they need and want.  A clear give to cleanse my being of negativity like a sieve and not daunt.

It’s a bit late now, though I shall resume on course in this year of the horse, and find that the forces on all sides of the riddle shall help string the bow and fiddle.

We find the kinds of things that divinity brings under the wings of the angel.

PLU8R!!! (Amen!)

 

Though there may be a plan and plot, there also are some that will help fight against the forces that wish us gone.  There are those also helping keep the balance.  There are many that work for us that we may never know, though remember the reach of what some teach does filter through the world to ourselves sometimes.

 

 

Chapter 5

For the Node of Three

This is a short chapter, though a multi-nodal seed.  The keystyles I used for this are blended between and for two people, and the relationship(s) they hold.  As John and Kesley (the first section) reminded me, there are twenty-one sides to a triangle; twenty-one different relationships between the three (self and couple, couple as individuals, the relationship between all three (or even when all separate)).  I want to strengthen bonds between couples, and writing for and from their hearts can sometimes help with that.

 

Brought up to sup with a cup of good drink.  Glad that we could link, as we find the kinds of things that Rob wrote for us with the digital ink.  Scenes of the reds blues and greens show up within our mates, and think the gates to our states of being don’t yet know exactly what lives we’ll be seeing.  The facts of the pacts made shall help design the lines that solidify hearts to yet be relayed.

Told that the disc will be played, yet some’ll have laid down to the nouns selected with this town’s consect and Id.  This page made for us to have our shared voice connected, as yet so the choices are reflected.  Shall we speed up or slow down the pace?  Shall we find the heavens mix our own personal grace?  Shall we keep clean, or mess up our place with bass?  Or, shall we send the song to the mothership and take a cruise through space?!

Although the tracing of the edges of the bowl are part of the pledges we own and help control, there too are the spirits of the foal who share the heart, mind, body, and soul.  To help compress the role of well developed coal, God blesses and presses the whole foundation on the rock while we talk.  I’m also glad conversations are shared and that we let each other chat when we walk.

The chalkboards of the chords played on the guitar too shall help enroll some advice for the star.  The strawberries are sipped through the straw, and that too is lifted up from the advice of the drinks that we saw.

Although the flows I read are part of a repeated seed, there too is the fact that some weeds have grown up in the garden.  Told that it takes cement a few days to harden, though it’s true some other sediment will dredge up a pledge that we clear without lament.  That lent intent sent that you need not have to vent.

A tent of tenses, to fences of our certain shift of senses.  What dispenses some good shall come from one who wears comfy sweaters with a pouch and hood.  The letters could find the joke of the bear to poop, as told that there’s a little bit of rudeness in the words that correctly fit the loop.

Select me for the kits of drums, even while the sums that tally rally for position.  On the field, they’re glad we’ve got life.  Some have shared things revealed, yet also had been omissions revealed that find although the wife concealed like open fact, there is the tract that we’ve lacked a certain choice of tact.  An impact of 100 miles of voice to let the pact make hours of flowers to the powers of Joyce to refract.

Cured like clay in a kiln, yet tillin’ the garden with that made to let us rest upon the stone.

The lines have a tone that we add, while we read from one who’s glad to have a dad.  An ability be a tad bit groovy pushes for the two of you to watch a movie!  I’m also glad you know each other, to flow onwards to my mother.  A three person interaction has multiple twists of our own inner selves, and the lists of diligent refraction find the elevens and twelves.

This delves in into trips of the violet hue of the chromatic tone, to find the shifts of attraction from a D-minor clone.  We might refine ‘er like teak, yet the B-Flats are the funky rifts created for us to speak.  I wonder of the gifts of the leak of mana, and if the Kanji or Katakana will find the spanner wrench to clench their beak.  The henchmen in the pad and pen find a wench’s den, and the flannel pajama bottoms that find the Potter’s to stop the hen.

Then again, that might not apply to any of the three of us, and not just because rhymes are used as a form of suspicion.  There still is the climb of a taiga on an introversial mission while the Geiger radiates the transmission.  Those fishing the eaves might find that that weaves of the thorn are worn amongst the real.  Like a banana peel of thought thrown into that we’ve brought from the past by Teal.

So while you both have an oath to maintain and be real, the lyrics help sustain that the tears had fallen from the cheek of Jane.  Conceal a peak of sound to share the ground, we find the skies abound in vies for your lives to rebound.  Rob wants us to thrive and gel and be around as well!  A glad lad that’s had the chance to speak, and bound this book to fact that shall peep like a meep.  There is a peak of the fun in the sun’s spins into trines, yet what’s to be done for us too keeps our spines in Jin’s signs.

That spun will weave the lines that shall not be undone.  With the spinal fluids of four trines, the signs run around the block to chalk up fate as something we both help him create.

A game of Twister to assist ‘er, yet we cannot say the rest of these lines.  Peter Piper the purple pickled pepper picker picks like wines to pick a peck of purple pickled peppers to the pause pour po lo po so we can include, also, our very own designs of the flow that say “Salamat Po!”

 

Then to other links that play with listening and hearing.  Sometimes words can twist and revert the directions of thought between, and from, the reader by the books seeders and senders.  There have been few times that I will write for others to read my words as they were their own… sort of like writing as a ghostwriter to direct my wishes of what the reader is to think or say to another person.

It’s the case that my parents had separated, and though some of the couples I’ve written to are not yet parents, they have shown and had commitment to each other.  I wish to encourage further bonding and fortification.  The development of relationship to be strengthened and honoured, and the hope that each are in the relationship(s) that they also want to maintain.

 

Okay dear lovestone, let us hone in on the spin that Rob made for us, with a job like driving the bus (though not as special as you!)  The facts are that the pacts we made shall keep us true.  I wept too, yet slept on the dream and want to dredge it up, as it may seem.  I was told to read this page out to you, word for word, and though I may not have proofread it, as I said it, I meant it too.  You are loved deeply by many more than a few, yet I’m glad that the only one that shall be your guy is me, and I hope you wish that too.

There are some who may wish to tear or break our hearts from one, yet remember that the trinal son wants to assure that we tighten our bond to assure we will not be undone.

Though you know more about me than most people, there are also parts of ourselves that we have yet to learn.  I will speak to you when I have concern, asking you also to turn to me when you fear the tears arriving in your heart’s concern.  Although we both are one, the world is also many more than a few.  The gladness in my being for knowing you are the one for me too.

When you have a thought that you want to share, or a story that you think another may not care for, open the door of your mouth and mind to me, and I shall continue to be kind to thee.

We shall find more of our journey expand and land in our hearts, and soul, and though some may wish to control or deceive, yet cleave your being to the truth that we are also seeing; the truth that some will come from a point of strengthening our bond (even if in an odd way to advise and correspond).

About three or four years ago (when we had been going out for one month) I had told Rob that I was not feeling happy anymore, and that happiness returned when we started dating.

So, yeah… I’m glad you chose me as the one to live life with.  We give too, though life it is, and while Rob spins his biz into the fizz from the drink, let me finish this page and tell you what I think.  If I am meant to read this page out loud to you, word for word, there also is the idea that the birds will fly into the reasons of why.

The seasons shift the sun higher into the sky, yet keeping the weeping free from our years and hearts (and eye), and will clear that you know more than I can comprehend as to the reason why.  I will love you until I die.  For the fact you do know, I will honour and cherish you wherever we are allowed to visit or go.

The last bit of this page will be made to bring a kind laugh to us, though first let us dip into how there is a trip we should go on that we know not of.  When will be the birth of our daughter or son, my love?  Think of how an airplane can take you and me to a place where we can trace out the lines in the night sky.  Where is that one place on earth that you want to go that you’ve not told me of yet?  Why?  You may never have yet thought of it, yet think of the futures we can knit if we take the time to dream and let our beings merge as we sit.

We could find someone to take care of Karma, and take two weeks to go on an adventure.  Even if not yet sure, can we set aside a bit of money each month or week into a bottle, and then go full throttle into a trip for a year from this skip of thought?

It’s great to have a plan, and add to that a plot.  Stories that we can tell our kids of how bids of asking us to think of an international link, where we, I think, could go.  Forward from this flow to see how we shall develop our life and grow.

Please remember, though, also of our key.  That we know that peace and love and unity ARE something held between you and me.  I thank you also for the respect that you let me be and see, as I ask you also now about our own family tree?  Will it always just be you and me?  Rob knows not our life full well, though please remember the ideas that he asked me to tell you, and how this was spoken from my heart for us to know too.

We shall learn, love, live, thrive, create, and play, and one kid seeded a prayer to relay.  To relay that whenever we hear a knock on the door, that there will be kindness on the other side forever more.

 

Winding this chapter from a keystyle for a couple, then one for one to read to their gal, I also add to this chapter a page written for a couple to read out loud to each other at the same time.

The gal included in the next one incubated the Finding Natalie book for a few months before I released it.  The other half of the couple is her shoulsman who’s been a devoted soul and heart to, and for, her.  I asked them if I could write a page for them as a shared seed, they agreed.

 

Okay, Rob wrote this for us both.  We’re meant to read it out loud at the same time, though before carrying on with the rhyme, we too have been told to not read it before reading it out loud together.

The weather is changing again, and while it will get cold, I hope you’ll hold on and meet me at dawn.  While we are on this journey as two, there too are the other people in your life that may find and want us to be husband and wife.  You know that although it seems the dreams I hold in memory (the ones you can’t actually see) also hold the key of who we are and what we shall be.

It’s actually too true of you that there are so many and so few that know, and share, like we do.  When we are apart, dredge up the memories of heart and start to think of each link we’ve made.  There are so many times I wade in the thoughts of you that seem to show that you will forever be true.  Please do not test me.  Please ask me questions of your fears.  Please understand that as I have been for you up to now, that I too shall be there for you through the future years.

Tears of sadness and joy…  A girl!  A boy?!  What is to unfurl is not a ploy… it is a message written for us both as an oath.  To be and stay in the hope that neither you, or I, shall ever betray.  Tonight when you lay down to rest and fall into the realms of slumber, please remember that I too sleep with the sands of time we may keep.  We’ve been told that we reap what we sow, and for that fact that you know, I hope we may act on our likeness and continue to grow.

It’s true that we are only two people on a planet of billions, that we are on a planet that is tiny in comparison of the entire galaxy, and that that galaxy is one amongst a countless number that are part of this universe.  Still I wish that the seeds we disperse may find good soil and land in the garden of our life.  Please let me know when you are afraid, please let me know when you feel sad, please let me know when you feel played, and please let me know that this will be rad!

Had I known years ago that we would continue to develop and grow our friendship and relationship with each other, there may have been things I’d have done differently.  I too note that we cannot change the past, though that we may learn from it and that it is part of who we are.  I too am glad I found you orbiting around this star.

I do understand some of the things that you say I don’t.  I also know there are some things that you can let me know that they won’t.  It isn’t easy being who I am, and who WE are sometimes.  I also note that sometimes things should not be so serious.

Although this page was written for both you and I with Rob’s hope to strengthen our bond, it too is a way for him to correspond with his own heart and soul.  He feels like he’s not one in control and doesn’t merely want to play and/or be just a role.  The facts of the tracts of love have some who haven’t been as fortunate as you and I, to have found the one that they will share into the sky.  The reasons of who and why are not something that can cleanse the tears from the eye, though the hope for others (and ourselves) is that we shall continue to dream, and work, and try.

Please remind me of when I get distant or unkind.  Thank you for sharing my interests and (for when I need it) to let me be alone to reset and unwind.  Thank you for being patient with me and for letting me see, that there is only one of you, and only one of me.

Let the prayers of the cosmos find this verbose layer of text to understand that sometimes we as people do not know what is next.  That we may be people that like ourselves and that we may continue on this journey, as there too is a wish that we shall thrive.  Thank you.

(November 11th 2013)

 

To close this chapter, a letter to my dad and step-mum.  I wrote it to them Christmas 2015 when I was allowed to visit them.  Gladness for it, and them, have I.  Even though the reasons of the text are construed by the seasons of the why, it’s the fact that they have helped me greatly.  Even if I know not (yet) how to fully reciprocate, I send them love.  Wishing also to find my path and work to be something that will allow me to not need to rely on their help.

 

Please allow the mp3s to hem the electronic breeze into the tonic of G’s.  The mix of crunchy water to the lunch made by your daughter.  A potter shapes and moulds the folds of time and space with rhyme from grace, and at a challenging pace, we mix in the climb into and from outer space.

An aura to trace energetics of the heliosynthetics with the father’s addition of irenics to admonition.  Also added, a discrete blend of our layer of creative intuition.  A mission of PLU8R for many more than just he and her… a variant form of the warm water and ice to splice the DNA with what we think and say.

A link to nicey nice the play!  The sink aprez les dejunais!  Une petite peu of what to say, and the blending of every shared and remembered tomorrow to yesterday.

Thank you for the grace and the place to sit and write.  The both of you let me know when things are (and are not) alright.  Sometimes it seems slight, yet there is a cure from you for her that I will find like a mix of Moët and the gentle purr.

Thank you too for the love and luck.  Thank you for being one to give a pluck of a feather, to remember that we too weather the storms of the past.  A cast and crew to assist you both, with the meld and merge of how some things I too will gather, comprehend, and purge with my oath.

A surge of the shoreline from the signs of the schools of fish.  A Bull shark it may not be, yet still scoop up the plate to remind a fortified wish.  A dish of many types too shall show the halo of the swipes of the paw, from a kitten who may not understand the written is what helps heal, even with its flaw.

Sitting outside on your porch without a torch, the sun to scorch and fuel the world noting the tender fool is I, according to the spool.  A wind of thread lets the involution of Gary and Beverly’s contribution too mix in Helen and David with this distribution of an involution I affix.  Some like Ann and Boyd too note that we’ve yet to meet and greet and sit down for food, yet a reminder that some of the best jokes are told by some folks you know, even if slightly rude.

An interlude with your brood as she cooed for you years before.  The tears streamed upon the door, yet knocked and dreamed to pass the floor.  And idea will also explore the notion of the devotion, by crossing the sea and ocean into the Mediterranean smile within a potion of denial.

Sip it slow.  Don’t tip the show.  Let the felt tip grip the flow.  Abet the union of the woe, to pass high or low, and let authentic happiness instead be what we amass and grow!  Although some come from a totally different place than where we have been, and will be, there is the fact that we shall see, and share, and show we care, even if it seems that no one else is there.

Mon pere, et mon autre mère. Merci beaucoup!  Thanks for letting me do what I do!  There are so many and so few that will comprehend the love I send and share and have, as the lava holds the rock in a fluid form before known from the former Yugoslav.

A tone of what is, and was too, is for the future to let the fuzz undo.  Because we did meet in a way that was from a distant place far from today, I too note that the cross holds up the beat to share the shuffling of the feet.

Please let your sweet and love side show, as to the end of this page we go.  There are so many and so few that will remain true to those on the bus, so please forgive those who seem to think it’s just the two of us.

To Dad and Sarah

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6

Thanks to All, yet None

Though the webs have been spun, there is the fact that I always want to ensure that (some) things are never done.  I want to keep sowing seeds of thought, and even when writing this, I don’t know what need or function my words have.  I also seem to confuse things with people, even when I am trying to speak English.

I wrote another page to The Contialis the same day as the closing of chapter four’s prayer.  A twist also of my creative process by meaning what I say, and then keeping record of it for me to be able to recall and review later.  The journey of tracking our prayers and wishes is similar to journaling (which I recommend to others also).  “The wish of a dear heart, always near the start.”  The fizz in the drink to link with what we think.

 

A request that you may have others blessed with what you say, even when stressed.  Be impressed by people’s love and care by shoving aside your problems when you need to be there.  A seed to guide and share; when we find the kinds of things that divinity brings, let us hold them under wings.  With the The Contialis, let us share moulds of the folds of how and what she sings.  Even if rings are not found, let us seal the love we tend and grow, and ground us with those we know, reminding myself again to ‘let it go!’

So while each file made has been like a spade in earth (trying to dig up some contialitic worth), let this come from the facts of the pacts given.  I too may miss acknowledging God with the way I’m living, yet I want to help our worth by knowing how, and why, we should be living with mirth.

A cry to try to start giving things that nourish the soul!  Flourish in the role of being human.  The note is that not all earthlings are woman or man, yet there too is the fact that it’s a good choice to resume with a plan.  A voice of something some of you know full well as higher than heaven, and deeper than hell.

While told too that the Spirit knows how to tell us what to do, fuse the suss and find that I wish to be kind and not curse or cuss.  Some pull us from under the bus, the way that, thus far, the tar bar has held its grip on the trip.

A star to meld and chip in a satellite from hip.

The light of our being to allow seeing deep into the sands of sleep.  We find that the bands too are what keep them together, as a note from the gem’s feather may pop the balloon of what I say.  Some of you think I’m a buffoon to try to relay, yet an embryonic plume relays the notes of today’s boat to float in an ocean of tomorrow.  I ask myself for pure devotion, and to cure our heart of sorrow without even a hint of a salacious notion.

The tinted notations of the potions too cross the lines with spines that mingle with vibrations.  Variations of a single strand of DNA find the mould of how the notions hold on to let us say and relay.  A’s and T’s for the C’s and G’s that break down into the knight’s philosophies, yet each day away to correspond with a town that thinks, and says, we’ll find a link to start to play.

-The Fountains of Yesterday-

Some mathematics shall allow the acrobatics to plough and dig deep in the field.  With a kind and shared yield, we will find the syllabatics to be partly what’s concealed.  A notation made after the sunset’s relayed, as to wield the view of how they’ve played to let the beauty never fade.  Allow us to know how we fell, soft and slow, back to the common ground we’ll come to know.

I help reveal the peel that envelopes the deal with order and protection.  Is it that the dope too is to cross through the strobe light’s reflection?  Revealing what’s between the dark, and hiding what’s between the light, a slight green right might find the sleight to share the knight on a flight.  The fights need not be made.

Some want to soothe the lyrical relief of Jade, as it’s moved the grief away so they could be made to pluck the leaves conveyed.  Kind people to be good and understood, yet also more resilient than ever could be split like wood.  In the lines of the book (with the symbiosis of what they took) there too shall be the G Double O D in the hook to let us look back into the track and stack the deck that shook.

Father REK too knows well that some cook at a place where the chase for grace refines a chook from space!  Some trace out the broom sweeping up the bass into the mix of the womb, yet the son seems to deem the dream of the horse’s room will pull ahead six flocks of a wilted plume.

With no knock or opening of the door, some come in to explore the wars they think exist.  There is the twist of how heaven still leads to assist and show that peace is held in the meld of how none shall be felled; with or without a twist.

Quelled a spell that would require stitches of time to be shared on the rhyme.  Dawn too has faired to understand the Sublime parameter that holds the diameter of the cipher.  Wo line it up like a sniper and find the riper fruit to be used as a way to help our thoughts involute.  The astute observation that our world is united in another planet’s nighttime constellation.

 

I have sent so much ‘out there’ to the universe, though I don’t think I’ve comprehended how to use my words in a way that will benefit or bless another.  I am still learning how to love properly, and have stayed too strongly on my creative works.  I have an urge and yearning and tendency to create, though I still am forming how to perform my work with correct intent.  Writing prayers help me clarify my own intent, yet I still don’t know how my work affects others in the universe.

 

Thank You God for allowing people to nod off into sleep and find the love that we may keep.  Thank You for allowing us to know what it is to weep, so we may understand that all of our lives are held in the balance of what is and will be.  Thank You for people that allow others help and assistance, and thank You God for allowing people to cross and meet even when at great or galactic distance.

Please allow me to plough the field with good seed and heed the intuition that others have given me.  Thank You for the underground to see people like Talib Kweli thrive and guide the cosmos with each verbose layer of text.  Let us to help others form what is set next, and let PLU8R be a guiding motive of the way we shall choose to learn, love, live, thrive, create, and give.  Thank You for allowing me to catch fragments of intent with a pivotal sieve, and thank You for the fact that You let us survive and arrive, a state of not needing to be lost from the tribe to strive.

I thank You for letting me have vision to help avoid the precarious decision of whether to go or stay.  When the others get trapped up in the plot, some have wrapped up a knot like a gift to convey over, or under, spoken thought to delay.  Thank You for allowing me a home in which to live, and for allowing me places where my creativity may help find the correct  ways to give.

Lined with an intervention of perception, some things become clear without needing to mention.  Thank You for the suspension of our beings in the moment of now, and again mentioned, please let us know when the flow should be reset by the  devotional plough.

Let the Jets clear the debts and find new pets to grow up old and wise.  Let the singers and poets always be able to find another pleasing reprise.  Thank You for the evocative disguise and please do not let me raise the children with lies.  Please allow parents love to be sown, shown, and known to get the authentic tone of their own heart,  mind, body, spirit, and soul.

Thank You for allowing people creative control, with conjunction to the functions that we have set to our goal.  To perform here on earth, without being chained to a role, let us know that there is value, meaning, and purpose in what we set forward with our shoul.  A meeting with greeting happiness and success, to let us learn to share more, even if we already have less.

I ask that we may reach people with my being, while seeing visuals that are to be pure and joy.  The eyes seeing the world to be cured like the potters we employ, let each daughter’s son have their creativity inwardly spun.  Find the waters fueled by the jewels when this is Introversially done as the wares are bought and brought from thought into how we cultivate what has also yet to have been taught.

Thanks for the slanks and the people that do love and respect.  Thank You for letting me have an intellect (that some dissect) as one to protect the very and every essence of people to shine in heart and connect.  Like a star sign to intertwine when the spines mingle from every single line, I thank You for those who’s flows you let me dredge up and redesign.

I remind us of the fact that I know I am not an MC for the stage.  Thank you for the ones that are be allowed to live, and have shared, poetics from the cage.  Even if I’m allowed to give, I lead not into linking cigarettes as death, though some might be sminking the thoughts seeded by drinking with the idea to share with Beth.

The request that I then have is basic like a trike.  That we can know, and be, people that ourselves and others will like.  That the notion of the potion of Kyle’s brother Ike will spike a mother to open, and explore, the flows that close the open door.  Some ideas for which we’re hoping to know and grow some more.

Please use that that I create as a way to clear the slate.  Allow people to meet on even ground, and though the beat’s near found, thank you for letting me complete and share the ideas of MindSound.  Let the sun cross the horizon while reprising the situation’s sound, as I am one person that hopes to use subtle notation as part of his vocations variation with guidance abound.

Let there be peace, love, unity, respect, responsibility, and individual representation.  Do not keep this bound only for our nation.

Although I cloud my lungs with each inhalation of the smoke, I thank you for the cloak that you have worn that may allow me to reach the Starlit Morn.  Although some think I am a thorn in the side, please allow those who adorn the guide to let me abide by KP4.  I know not what doors I have opened or foretold, though ask that the flask hold something more precious than silver or gold.

I ask for our stability, and my ability to be bold AND meek.  I ask for the wisdom to know what should, and should not be, told from what I write or leak.  I ask that those alive may delight and grow old and wise like an ancient Sheik, and I ask that we may hold our own child in our arms with no need to ask them not to speak.

I also ask we may walk through the sands of time.  I ask that we may climb well into the shell that is to keep safe and sure.  It seems that destiny and fate found a correct way to state that, although pure, some things go on in mind that are not kind.  PLU8R too to wind the thread around the spool, and find that I am loved and a special type of fool.  I feel not like a gem or a jewel; I feel like a person who still is learning his purpose on this planet and thanks some like Lewis for their school.

Through the lens, let us cleanse fear and find that we are people to be held and hold others dear.  I have no brothers here, for I am an only child.  Though smiled through the view of how there will only ever be one of me, I ask that we may hold the key also for the only one of You too.  Reciprocity cannot claim my aim well enough as to when I was one they had also called Puff.

They have traced the thoughts of the plots (and the plans) while man’s still on planet earth.  I pray too there is a deep sense of worth, and, as Leslie said, “We are all on the same planet.”  Like each of us, one small dot in the cosmos, we are composed of all.  We will find our beings stand short or tall, yet eternally in the thrall.

Where I am to be, right now, is with the plough.  To somehow let us understand that, although that planned has yet to stand up for right, there is my plight of being one son who prays and hopes life is nowhere near complete or done tonight.  I hope we may refine and develop this envelope of space to trace the facts of light as what is (and will be) of this blend of friend and family tracts, pacts, and prose.  Although there are some who know where we come from, they still may not know to where we shall be as the union of life together flows to let us share some of the literal fence.

With a deep resonance of this when it’s said., don’t daunt us as we tow along the sled.  What is said is led forth beyond what I can correspond in a letter.  Thank You and please allow us and others to get better and well.  Let us remain for many years outside of heaven and hell.  You cannot tell us to the how’s and the where’s and the why’s, yet let us have met the set where we yet have been without needing to disguise.

Within the spin of kin, there are those that shall share the fact I am very flawed within.  My obsessive rhyming… smoking as a crutch… the dreams on True closing and opening like a hutch… and even the fact that I still am not clear as to what to do if I am allowed so very much.

Yet still I till the soil with good seed as there are the hopes that others (and I) may heed the intuition of the mission.  Thank You for love and life, even if I (and others) seem to not to be aware of the fact that I (and others) do often (and sometimes too strongly) love and also care.  I merely ask (and thank You) that we are allowed to be there.  Amen.

 

Also noted that, once in a while, the streams are like throwing a net into the ocean to wish to form a catch.  Sometimes I don’t even know who I’m writing to!  Sometimes there IS no direction.  The flowetics twist about and skew the meld of how (too often) rhyme is the reason.  On occasion, though, I will find the nonsense is lined out as later becoming clear and rational.  Some foundational blocks of rhymes or word that will draw out into the future years from the past, even if not yet lived.

There are also some groups that twist Christianity as being the surrounding force of their lives.  Ones who’re part of a collective in the town I live had a wedding on the group’s farm.  I attended this event, and note that their shop also tends my life and the things that are formed from sources not of this world.  Different groups will puddle different plots and plans.  I often haven’t a clue what to do with and for and about some, yet find clarity as the words are processed.

 

The antics in the barn to have brought up a cup of water, as I too wonder if I find and grow up with my wife and also have a daughter.  The potter holds the web of the ebbs of thought that some have sought to mix in.  The troughs of my kin are not often in my mind, and I too have a concern lined within the tin.  Thinking of them and their own belief in the hem, I know not yet the gem.  My aunt Judy does work well with the Lutheran church, and I can recall the birch trees in her old backyard.  The mould is the shard, and how some people set me on guard.  There is a fact, though, to take the space away and find the race to covey truth without removing the youth.

The sleuth too finds the winds of thread around that said.  It’s relayed by the played tracks and how the line was “Six buckets of flax per 36 racks.”  The reference is from when I used to work at Richmond Specialty Mushrooms, and now the plumes hold the feather of the fiber optics.  The scribe, and her mox ticks, too find the clocks affix the truth in both analogue and digital form.  The normal life that others live is not what we are to do.  While you are with your crew and group to give a few loop to the coup, this shares the ideas I contrive and recoup.

Told too that people should not smink, I note that some people have needs for which they will not ask.  I aim to crack the cask and share the ideas that mask the deceit that some have used against me, even if contialitically discrete.  Told too that I wish not to swing the sword at the sea, with the arrows of thee, and the fact is I don’t type some words when I cannot spell them accurately.  They narrow the gemstone code into the mix of how to understand groups of people, even if the diamond is six.  Beyond the first five in the nodes there are many other roads to the pathways of the codes.

Although some people are not evil, they still have bored into my skull like a thrull or a weevil.  They seem to deem that it’s my thought, and not that that another incepted.  The precept of my mother’s Id is often not of this kid, yet bid The Contialis to the reality of sharing a cinematic kiss with my gal’s illumiostatic bliss.

Told too though that they hold onto dawn.  We share the son of Ron with the facts that have gone well onto the Shell.  They have saved many from heaven, and truly served many from hell.  Told to tell the facts made have had me show that I fear believing in either.  The decision to follow a spiritual path too hasn’t had my own heart or mind yet able to add up all the muddled math.

The bath of puddled thought has brought a knot tied into the tears cried.  How I lied about how deep the sands of sleep keep the bands of which we weep.  I am a bit of a creep, from some peoples view, and though you have only met me the two times, the true rhymes shall share the climbs up to the mountain top.  Share a fountain of life that wishes to never need to stop.

So while the plan and the plot dot the J and share the splay of one to two, there also are the crew of so many and so few.  We learn to know how the flow shall be construed, like mental food that can be chewed too.  From the plan of Mr McGoo, I still sometimes know not what to do.  I don’t even know what the crew’s opinion is of the biz that I mix!  The clicks note that one of them invited me to the place that is based upon, though the crucifix finds the correct spelling that lets this be like sticks to track the swan.  The consects and tonects of the stage, from an intellect’s page cast the everlasting notion of a potion to calm the rage.

We shall continue to learn, develop, and deepen our devotion like a mage.  To pass through each notion, and find the potion of thought something that God also has let us have brought.  The dots on the end of the line too shall share a certain sign that this is made before His design…

 

And if then back to the focus upon one person instead of another, the lines are shared and dissolved.  The fact that there also is a pact made to all, not just some.  We shall fully develop our own dreams, for they are shared, and not needingly being that that you wish for another to grant.  My puddle of being focused on my own work and has taken me from being one to meld and interact.  Still I must refract the connections that help shift my directions and intent.  Keystyles for this chapter split between the moment of what was, and the ideas of two that keep us decades from now.

 

Okay, what’s wrong with this song!?!?!  Took a link to Sheng Long and stretched out the land’s fuel like fetching a duel.  They cool this Pink miss to twists of the lists of how the fists are not used.  This fused the souled out to the grout from the sprout to spout a flow for a show, so here we go!!!

Although some come from the point of being an ever-seeing human being, the alien starts keying the mox like the fox near the docks.  Clocks hands drip under her slip and grip the match with a brood to hatch.  They catch the wiff of the spliff smoked, while sometimes cloaked under the belief they will settle the beef.  Lyrical reliefs find the fold of the cold stare of no one being there with hacky sack screefs.

Add two to the cue to speak, and find the bass line queek into the peak of her glance.  An electronic dance with a symbiotic stance of how there are many and few that have and show respect.  She starts to direct the sitch by calling my daughter a little switchstance.  Of the ambiance, no chance to enhance the clue of how there a billions of people, yet only one of you.

Sometimes less than two in the mix, the clicks of the mice splice Abyss to his miss.  Her soft sensuous kiss to send him into bliss, as then the pen and pad of a young lad make her mad for being a tad bit too groovy.  Take her to a movie and start to prove hearts that parts of the symbiosis is how she moves into the grooves.  The additional charts of her addiction moves a mission of fishing the eaves while this weaves the salt to find her to halt and restructure.

At this exact juncture, the puncture of the balloon finds her kind of like a new tune.  To spoon up and sup with a hand on the cup, it’s been told to her I’m just a dumb pup.  The top shall fill up the pop drink with the link to the smink .  The album finds a shard of above and below, to show that, like Picard, some are just like ‘Make it so!’

On guard for the cosmos with a verbose layer of text and who she’ll get with next.  The facts of her pacts hold the mould of how gold has told the fish to wish me upon three.  Her glee and joy to share the tears with my baby boy.

The hands again slide up and down the hourglass to pass by the fly in the web.  With an ebb and flow, the one that went down low will slow the pace.  To trace the edge of space and find her pledge a place of trine in line with grace from this design.  Into the treble, we find it about as innocent as the pent up feel of being too real to rewind back to Bam Bam and Pebble.

Although the level of the flows are used when fused with the gal, she’s fully amused and pleasured by one treasured by the underground.  Make it Homeward Bound.  The sound of the book takes a look into the rook that makes a shift of kings to rings that lift her up to sup.  A nodal rift to the codes, and the ethics in the mix about how people should be fun and not be dicks, and to me be our loyal pup.

She feels the kicks in the belly.  It carries for nine months to grow up old and rise many years after Telly.  She wore a disguise of the wise with a rise of breath many years ago when I did meth, yet not known as Beth.  Told to hold the bold stares of the stars that shine brighter than all of our son’s might, it’s not sleight that the pairs wind tighter than the internal insight from her fight.

She instills glee and joy in the heart of this one they toy with.  A myth of how they’re now tending fields to garner full yields of things above heaven, and deeper than hell.  With more magnitude than that of a googleplex to amplify the cortex, they tell me to sing and focus closer on the key and the dissecting of the string.

It will ping her static cling to find the tree what we bring.  Have the wings surround and lift up, yet that’s found for and from Nanaki, the universal puppy that loves to sup.

I cannot claim to show how many years ago I knew that there was nothing that I could do.  To show that none could be as true as the one who flew away into the spirit of clay, we shape and mold that told by angels of the starship.  Wishing for a trip to convey that it’s forever and a day, even though it seems that that day will always be tomorrow.  The spaceship to choose to meet each other after decades of joy and sorrow?  We find that that lined too can’t show how I don’t fully know that the net is set to abet this that you borrowed.

 

Even if outwards to the universe, I still know not what seeds I disperse.

 

Though your heart was broken, I ask you to start soaking up the hope; that you thrive, excel, and not just cope.  It’s true, full well, that you were almost at the end of your rope, and we know too that pain carves deep.  The starving heart shall reap a future full of good seed; something that you and I do and shall heed.  I must press through a carry like a loyal steed, and like a Jeep “Beep Beep!” to the sands we keep.

Although some are filled with greed, there too is the view that prosperity and wealth can be used well with good financial health.  Told that some money does grow on trees, the ease of how we shall plough the fields shall still share and show more future yields.  Although there has been hurt, pain, and betrayal, there too is the dirt we shall not stain from wielding the flail.

There are some who think they’d be better off in jail, yet the sale of my soul is to God.  Those that want to sit in their seat and nod their head to the beat do not fall down or stare bleakly down at their feet.  Instead with a complete surge of confidence, I ask you may flask up the potion and deepen your devotion to life.

Although you (and I) at this point have no girlfriend or wife, there too is the fact that the deck is stacked in our favor.  I used to be a raver and loved the deep grooves and how the shouls move through the club.  It’s also noted I’m glad you didn’t hack and slash like Wolverine, bub!

Had the stash of Fayt been something you too did create, I still ask you to not wait to move forward and excel.  Some things on earth are far deeper than hell, like the love of some dads for their kids.  Seems kinda Brad.  The Sovereign notion of the spin of the ocean in a whirlpool that almost dragged me to the bottom of the ocean.  Again, I ask you to flask up another potion and instill your devotion to and for the gal you shall settle down with.

There is more love to be found in this town (without a myth) and some other forces are in the tides that are bound like a maze of Ith.  With the facts that there too has been loss, carry the cross up to the mountain top and drop it from your soul.  Do not be shackled by control or by all of that that has yet happened.  It’s true we too have the right to feel mad, sad, or glad for the things that occur, yet we too note that these pages are like a different form of mental tappin’ that shall fuel a variance of PLU8R.

The facts of your life I know of only a bit, yet too (if asked) will be glad to sit down at the other side of the table and help you when able.  The fable that I weave for our life is that people will not deceive or carve deep with the knife.  Told that there are some forces on all sides of the riddle, there also are contialitic guides that shall help wield truth, light, and love, even if they must be Torn smack dab in the middle.

Do not let others piddle on your dreams.  Instead form teams of warm souls that deem your life to be known in more than just a subtle tone of hope.  Again, excel, thrive, and don’t just cope!  Some find where they come from as a reason to be cold as Edmonton’s approaching season, yet I ask you plot and plan your future and use the past as a mast to hold the sails of your soul.  Reset, ground, and claim a full creative shoul.  It will be how you want your life to be (and hope that it includes people that will help and support and assist, like you, me, and both our D.A.D.)

We two are rare compared to some who don’t share where they’ve come from.  Too noted that we both want our dads to remain alive, and they’re wanting us to not be smote.  We arrive at their sides as loyal sons who will understand their lessons with the blend of our own through rote and the setting suns.

Do not let your despair float in your being, instead feel it, process it, live it, and then dispense.  When experienced, let others know through the memories what’s fenced and recovered.  What’s been brought through the years is inside our minds.  They rarely may understand all that we have seen, or are seeing, yet still each project clears through what destiny winds.

Freeing this into The Contilais.  I ask you to have find hope and never miss.  That we can keep our minds free to be in the sea, and find and share our own correlate of divine bliss.

To develop, earn, and enjoy lives that extend eternally.

 

Chapter 7

Though You Won’t Read This

This chapter will be different, partly, than the others.  The chapter is designed and formed as one continual form of letters to my mom from seven sequential pages I wrote to her.  She does not understand what I write, and thinks I should not use the word ‘flowetics’ or ‘flowetry’ as they’re not words people know or understand.  My mom is also one who will not read the first book I published, Finding Natalie.  Even still, I shall include the pages I wrote to her with no additional notes between the sections; just the seven letters I sent to her, even if she won’t read it.

 

Mom, I tell you where I come from.

From the sum of the whole beyond my own control, my soul is like compressed coal.  Formed not just by the thought, yet what together earth has brought fourth.  The North pole does hold the somber cold, as the folds of rhyme and place find the correct time to place the keys into a page for you like these.  I’m not one of the MCs, and while the files that I make are sometimes real and fake, the correct perceptions of that in the spin are noted that I have shed some fear and sin.

I use to lie and steal, now I (sometimes) vie to reveal.  Concealed in shrouds, the clouds that I breathe are a belief that must seethe.  Wreaths on the door of suite 303 found you returning back to your home, yet when living life without me because I did roam.  A kid who left to go on a journey to SFU, wound up living in Chilliwack a thousand miles from you.

Although a creator and true, I cannot berate you for what you do.  Rather praise should be given to you and Dad, my Shivan, and to the ones with whom you’re both married to.  We continue living well in our own lives, as unlike some, I’ve not had one, let alone three, people that will commit to building life next to me.

Striving to improve and just to be.  I prove that the net shall hold the future and past tales of the sea.  I guess the messes that I weave into the guesses of what we believe shall find the future to tranceive the birth of Aeris and another pet.

I shall abet… I pay my debt…  I know not yet that the flow shall help the others, as I without sisters and/or brothers.

Mothers like you are few, and also something I am aware of too.  This year has been almost too much for some to bear, yet together there is air.  You shared the pain of tears from Jane; the sane refrain from which I must abstain.  Yet the losses, and the crosses, are vain to think I could understand the way you feel your pain.  Sometimes too sane, sometimes too real… sometimes the tone of just recalling Teal.

For many years, I the cause of your fears.  Now true, though the concern turns back to you, for all the things that you two have gone through.  The facts that rhymes are too often used, ironically show how they too may be fused.  Rused and abused not, though, are you Sharon… your son still is growing and learning about care to skip the plan and plot.  The facts are there to let you know, that although some do some things just for show, that the use of poetics is another way to let us grow.

I am glad you are alive and have Owen with which to live!  I also am glad that our humor helps us find other ways to give!  I’m glad that Akasha is aware that there are people too that care, and note that even if you don’t agree, I think that she also is the key.  We live, we learn, we thrive, we yearn.  The joy, the angst, the anger that I burn.

Concern that smokes interfere with the yolks, as the life that I live too should be shared with my folks.  I am here on earth, seemingly an individual since birth.  I have some faith, I have some mirth.  I shall set my dreams to the tears of my dad, in the way that he shall shed them for the fact that he’s glad.

You, my mother, shall smile and too cry a tear of joy, when the facts find a child for their dear baby boy!  I am alone now.  I accept that.  I also note that my life is great.  I know that although at the time this was written I was without child, girlfriend, a career and/or a kitten, there still is the fact that for a successful future I shall continue to be smitten.

Not smote, that’s a different definition that I don’t connote.  This note is like a coat put on to warm the soul, and again the gladness evades the direct moment within control.  Whole and complete, yet a foal to let me bleat.  We have allowed the field to be ploughed to tend the soil and also the flock.  The walk of the pen and pad to show how the lyrics are not a fad.  They’re a way this lad is just a tad too cool, as you reminded me years ago that I’m a special type of fool.

Rad, sad, and glad are just a mad set of rhymes.  Within my own soul I climb as a way to share the time.  Keep living and loving and thriving, and please let me visit soon.  Do I have to shift the font just to remind you I’m a goon!!!

 

Hi Mom… this comes from me to thee with the use of rhyme as I too want to let you know how I use my time.

Often I fuse rhyme with the mix of cliques of people, and found the thread round spool to be pretty cool.  A credential of a jewel that is to let the net help abet the mix of my life on each set.  Although I am in debt, I too have faith I’ll be able to dig myself out, and note that if life is a garden, I’m still just a bit past being a sprout.

Cast in some doubt about what I do and what I am planning, yet still spanning the course of life thus far without wife.  The grout of the foundation is not yet set upon the swan that takes flight into the night towards another sacred dawn.  You know that one way I can help and express is taking the time to acknowledge what is right, yet write into the middle of the riddle to bless.  A spittle of rain is like a vital stain in my brain.  Some people choose to not abstain. yet  I ditch some pitches into the thought and bring this back to the stitches that I got.

When I was in the chair with them working on my slash, I heard some thoughts that I too note were preconceived and rash.  It’s true I’ve stashed away sleep to let the nights I stay awake within help build what we may keep.  Although I wept many years, the fast fury of tears in the past clears to the moment of now as I use the seeds to keep the plough.

Although a Dragon-lady, this braggin’ of how they see me grow up old and wise.  With my creative reprise, a disguise that some use start to make me want to curse them out.  Not the mother of the sprout, yet rather some parts I wish to shout out like a Stain.  The gemstones rarely hear me verbally complain.

I’m really glad that you had your kid, and that you too have hid the truth about some things from my youth.  I called the dentist about my tooth and they’ll work on it tomorrow, as told that the moulds some use of my words are something that shall extend and believe the sorrow.  I too am glad you have Owen sowing the seeds of your life, and though the gardens your son knows may not be done until tomorrow.

Dolly the cow was pregnant without a bull, and while some try to pull in a belief of what I am (without understanding the leaf).  You too recall that some cows become beef Vindaloo that goes well with a nice bottle of wine!  Maybe I should be glad and not nice, as some have had a price that they smink, instead of thinking for themselves and not trying to force the links without our sign.

It too is true that some of them (and not you) are trying to skew their wants into the fact that sometimes your son flaunts his right to live, love, and thrive.  This is done without having to drive people around, because their choices have found them to be in need from their own ground and seed.

I am well in my life.  I too note that although some say ‘we’re all in the same boat’ some people seem to piss on the passengers.  Sometimes it’s them.  Sometimes it’s me.  I also note that regarding the future there is certainty that we each help form and influence what is to be.  (Key to Me).  As to form a strong tree and find that there are so many more that want the doors of the future opened to the past, the facts of presence shall help hold the sails with the devoted cast.

My dreams are shifting the mast again.  I learn that when I seem to decide that another idea or plan should be set aside, I too reside in the night.  I find that although the rights that I have are founded upon grace, I too note that I’m glad that on earth we too have our place.

Although no family in town, it’s noted that I hope to not drown and stay afloat, and get a different craft/raft for those who are previously mentioned in the boat.  I’ve got a couple in my life that are delicately trimming, weeding, and finding those that I should help tend to and water winding through time.  Seeding that I will hopefully find the correct gal of which to be reading to my daughter decades after this rhyme.

Told that the potters and the wheel spin around like a top, it too is the fact that putting effort into life, and developing ideas, are what I shall not drop.  It’s a crazy contialis here where we live, and understand in our lives we continue to give.

You have created an unpolished gem in the hem of reality.  A finely woven seam that seems to deem toes in the sand as being a grand idea to have planned.  Far from the tar in the lungs while climbing up and down the rungs of the ladder, a desire to scatter the mp3s and pages like these across the seven seas with an ionic ease and symbionic freeze.  How, even with no job, I play and find the ways to say that there is much to such things that divinity allows.  My ploughs to send the way to help and amend from the prerogative I use to live, send, pray, and tend.

Though I give not the whole thought towards the chords that happen in the tapestry, a certain calamity has been in the spin.  Some come from a space where respect is not a common place.  I still wish them grace as it’s the bits of how we allow others to be and win.  We allow them to see that there is much to meet within.  For the indiscretions, the insurrections are laced, and delicately placed, instead of tearing out their inner discrepancy.  They tell us who they think we are and let it stick to their belief like tar.

Orbiting around a star, I seem to want to shred some people’s throats, yet let them fester in their boats and try to fly away like notes on the wind.  Yes I have sinned, yet still will not be pinned up on their board to a chord that they believe that is not true.  I thank you for teaching me too, and while reaching towards the future sights, we shall allow ourselves to stand up for truth and other people’s rights.

The nights I work through are not viewed by society (or you) as real work, yet I lurk and shirk contempt as for the fact that some have lacked respect and basic tact.  Still the impact of my choices, and voices, shall take many years to comprehend (even if you don’t fully understand this page to you I send).  When friends have betrayed so many times (and still do in ways that I should not tell you) I still shall carry through, and progress, as my anger and my own indiscretions shall become less as we develop vos chou with a certain stress.

No guess about how some do actually cause me to wish a dish of sweet revenge, yet I contain myself in the cages of my soul and know sometimes I need to release my pages and control.  Ceasing that line to get back to a positive inclination, creation shall aid in thought, word, deed, and consecration.

Life is my vocation.

Although I have not been in or on the path that some want me to have (in regards to a standard job) we recall Bob, and how he too had said for so many years (I imagine) things that may still bring precocious tears.  Symbiotics clear my soul far too often, yet I try to soften my being from freeing The Contialis into a hiss from myself, and stay contained up on the shelf.

You and Owen are still sowing the seeds of your own needs and people’s health and love.  For that I still ask you to hold and place yourself above.  I am glad you have what you had wished, and when The Contialis has swished up a bit of aim into how I shall aid the game, people play myself being one to call, guide, direct and/or sway the fame.  I still shall keep some things in my integrity that none (even God) may take away.

Thank you for letting me be here where you know that fear has become less.  I hope you do condone, and know, I press so much into the folds of life, while holding some thoughts like a knife that shall never be used.  It also is true I disdain and abhor how some have fused and also rused, yet still I deflect back to how the words I’ve chosen have had you and some others too confused.

I still have no idea (in some cases) how I do know much of my role; about how some other people abuse my heart, mind, body, spirit, and soul.  When I cannot close them out, some invade me so much that I shout.  I honestly have to release, instead of letting them shred me apart piece by piece.  I shall not lose my own abetting belief, philosophy, and value of respect, love, unity, and peace, as I must close this page before I chose to reset and reground.  To the child that you and Dad help with the words that we have found.

 

So while each file is held in the meld, those who’ve shelled out the prawn shall find I’ve found Ron and Sarah to be there watching out for your son.  The doubt about how things are a concern of you and not me.  I am glad to be free to live, love, and thrive, and although I don’t want to drive on the left side of the road, I too may hop like a toad.  To the sitch of pitching my soul into control of the bowls of good food, and also the joke about skipping through the house nude.  The mouse is in the links of each spouse and how then will be now.

Told to hold onto the gold and silver and keep it for yourselves as I shall earn and generate my own.  The state of my tone is to hone in on issues and wipe them off like tissues of foundation and find a natural exhalation.  I am now at the station of my creative node, and always will be, even when on the road.  Although you didn’t seem to believe the goad, I have loaded up the program with a bit of green eggs and ham.  Note that the set that’s wet with snow is where some shall show that although there is air to breathe, I seethe in belief of the reef.  This shall settle like a leaf on the tree, of thee, and be the unity of those who see the glee and joy in the eyes of their baby boy.

Maybe it is a ploy, though still I shall till the fields for yields that are not just my own.  I must hone the skills AND find a way to pay the bills.  Although the sills are found to ground and reset, I too want to have a new pet, yet must wait until the time where I can meld the climb up to the mountain top.  We find the fountain to drop in on the vert ramp.  Some may find that they’re green behind the camp.

Although you have known (and birthed me) many years ago, I still can’t seem to show that although there are years of life that I have lived, the ones who’ve let me be here on this planet also allow me to give.  I grow up to be a young ol’ pup and fool that is twice as nice as ice and three times the jewels to splice.

The admiration that I have for some is beyond that I could correspond with regular speech, so I beseech that my reach out for, and from, grout is many years beyond a tender sprout.

Aa a defender of the Shout, Tide, and Bounce (and joke about being a sellout also for Whiskas and Pounce), I still shall continue to do what I do, as I know that in life I am without my own due of daily family, friend, and crew.

For now, I tend the plough and find out how to weave the deceit out of the street and the beat.  I too shall hold firm like a cleat, and match the patches where I may land back safely on my feet.  I will build my house on solid foundations and not sand.

The elevations in that planned too shall bring me back to SFU; not for school, yet rather is the place where I shall present the ring with jewel.  There are so many and so few that will let us be who we are.  Told by some that each of us are like a star, the planets align with the tar on the asphalt where I almost come to a halt.  I like pepper and salt.

I too note that the things like the rings of Saturn were mentioned before locked up in Grey Nuns.  Although the sun’s not on your (or my) side of the earth right now, I too note I don’t know if I told you that a cow with two legs is lean beef, and one with none is ground!

I still shall resound the minds found and let the bound book take a look into the chook.  We share that although they shook the hand, some too are not wanting me to be in this land.  They want me to be set free and find that the lock isn’t wanting a key, so that the other parts of The Contialis may feel glee.  Some say what they see, yet I seem to deem that the dreams are held inside of me, that others may never fully comprehend, that have yet come to be.

Still the Wooly Jack shall find that the set holds so many photos of those things that I like to snuggle like the Egyptian kings.  And while the encryption stings the plots, I am glad that I’m able to type and express thoughts in an eloquent form.  To people as wonderful, and elegant, as the warm waters that the daughters find, we also will find the potters to be kind.  There is a fact that for some people on this planet, for and from whom, will also understand how the journey shall resume.

 

Okay Mom, I want to tell you the perspective that I come from.  Although it’s been some time since I focused on rhyme, I too believe that I must climb down and up to the town and sup.  I have ever so much more to write than trying to earn money in a way that seems like a loosing fight.  I have a belief that if I create a tree, that these pages are sometimes a leaf.  It’s been winter with my creative projects too, and I think it’s an early spring to renew.  Although up to now, sales have been few, I still seem to think through that if I focus on including others in the process, that God and other people will help bless and let us do what we do.

I was in a financial mess, though I also stress that I can stay afloat in the ocean for another while.  I seem to think that I just need to create more file, with my denial of having a standard job (and how I’ve been living like (a bit) of a slob).  I additionally note that even if all of us are in the same boat, I have another raft to travel back to shore with a smile.

Although some want and proclaim war, I still note that there are more beliefs that I dredge from the contialitic (conscious society) reefs.  I spent the first month and a bit without taking the time to sit at home and create pages for those that roam about their lives.  I also note that I’ve imagined a couple gals as wives, though that the strives I must (and shall) make this year are forming from intuition that this is a global mission for the take.

While I was fishing with the wrong bait, I too note I need not wait to return to being one to write, and create, instead of trying to run a company with product like Nate.  I tried one business mode for a while, and find that I prefer the ideas that come in a file.  In the past weeks the truth something your son more often speaks. I too note that there is the idea that some people think I’m just a crafty goat that some may want gracked, yet I too note (and tote) the fact that my creating this year shall not be lacked.

This is only the fourth page I’ve written this year, and considering that I hold some people far away, there too are some that hold me dear every day.  I have forgotten that potting seeds (like these pages) is far more liked by me than being one of the Magic selling mages.  Although the cages have held the meld of how there is a plough I can (and do) use, it’s to help truth and relationships develop and fuse.

So, I guess the news of today is that I’ve started to relay that I prefer to create instead of trying to go above and beyond with car rides and having my stuff pawned.  Don’t take that literally, the pawn shop has none of my stuff, and regarding a financial safety net, I do have enough.  I too note that if this is the spring and I start to find out how, there now may be the case that I can chase some dreams with reams of text by letting people know what I shall do next without having a cow.

There are a few reasons, yet the plough of this season’s development shall also learn of my intent… to shift my focus onto people like you.  Those that are rad and are true, by sharing how and what I, and some others, do.

I will help aid in letting other people know what is with the use of flow, and note that I need to set some foundation about meeting myself in a far off nation.  It’s part of how I too shall help aid truth and spiritual elevation, with the use of being me, and learning of others how to form correct, and helpful, representation with what I key.

So while this page is near done, note that alive, well, whole, and refocused is your only son.  The Haven metaphor of the train has found that I jumped the tracks and bring it back to becoming one prolific creator here.  Chilliwack’s my home for some more many/few years, as cryptic code is to unload the fears.

38 years ago before this flow, I was four months in your womb.  We resume with our lives these many years later, as the accurate rhymes are part of what I create… PLU8R with an eight!!  I may state some rifts with my gifts, and you too have noted that I’m often in my own boat with my Id that lifts.  I too am glad to be your kid, and know why you didn’t have others.  Sisters or brothers might have flipped your lid, yet so many years later and I’m glad you did what you did.

I sit on the patio and write this page to you.  You had said it’s a cast of thousands, yet the stage is earth, and I believe we receive that too.  The people we meet here in Oz are kind, and some will help with the creative cause.  I wind my flaws amongst the caws of Lorikeets and Cockatoos that show very clearly (sometimes) when there are links to ruse or fortunate news.

I haven’t a clear view of my future, and too have felt some shame, for where I am now is far off the aim (according to some other people’s opinion of game).  I have some ideas as to who I am and what I shall do, though there is a lot of fear and uncertainty too.  Clear and glad you and Owen are in Sidney now, and though Dad’s a lot further away, I recall that sometimes Bonnie is mom #4 in the play!  We too should recall and be glad that we’re still here today (even if Judy is #3 and Sarah is #2!)

I also am glad you have no fear about your new home.  I am glad you get to roam about Sidney streets with the puppies at the ocean’s foam.  Right now, I write you a bit as I sit in warm and chill air, and think of some not there…

The form of the bill to reminds me of the gift from Melissa and Susan (The Daffy pillow), and the additional note of how to be like the willow.  As I think they’d laugh me offstage and rip the ink from my page, I too note that half of me too thinks I may be better as a contialitic mage.

I hope you’ve read some of the book, and will look into the moments of present tense too, to find that some of my dreams are in heart with an open fence.  The sense that I most often use is my sight, yet the sounds and hearing are mainly alright.  I too delve into my mind and my thought, and I know that some moments of joy, compassion, sadness, and gladness cannot be bought.

I thank you for being love and support, and purport of your cohort too reminds that Lori is five feet short!  A joke of you and your friends, as you know that Jane lends a hand and ear too, and that you can FaceTime with her when, or if, you feel blue.  You probably won’t though, as Owen, I know, keeps your heart well and so very true for many more than a few.

The poetics I use too are not what some people like me to show.  Though my ideas may cause a rift, the creative gift too helps me sift and sort my intent to purport I need to vent.  The idea also is that I may distance from some people due to my knowledge or belief of their intent.

So while we’re an ocean apart, I send you my heart (but not my kidneys!) as the jokes of Anthropologists might find the seven seas skated upon by cosmic entities.  You know that there are some people that learn to cope with ease by shaking some of the nasty stuff out of their knees!  Anyhow… we live, we love, we learn, we thrive!!  (I’m also glad your close enough I can meet you with a ferry and a drive!)

 

Sixty six years!?!?!  Where have you hidden them!?

Hi Mom!!  Happy Birthday!!

I pray well that you keep your heart open and warm and glad.  I also note my rhymes sometimes don’t make sense, so will avoid doing so on this page.  You’ve made it through a few years of life, and I’m glad you keep at ‘er!  You also have Owen and your pups, so that’s hopefully a great thing for you too.

I’m not fully certain what to say other than ‘keep at ‘er’.  I do have a weird curiosity about how you lived in the 70’s though!?  I also recall Judy gave you some pictures (that you gave to me).  I’m glad you’re living closer now and also have liked the fact we keep in contact via telephone.  It would not be so easy to chat without technology, even if you sometimes say you dislike it.  (Technology also includes sewing machines though, so think of that!)

I hope you get to hear and talk with some of your main friends on your birthday also.  I think of Judy and Bonnie, Jane and Kath (and Lori), though I’m sure there are many parts of your friend network that I don’t know.

You worked many years at the University (and earned your right to retire) and you also did convey some lessons to me about earning.  You also have reminded me that things don’t happen magically.  Your experience with Haven was shared and that also helped me emotionally and mentally, even if I still need to learn to slow down and be calm.

I also like and am glad that you’ve had so much patience with me.

Thank you too for watching out for me and helping me with my life.  You’ve always assured that when we visit that you buy me food (and clothing or house stuff) and though you have taught me that I need to earn my life (and not rely on others) to also accept help and gifts graciously.

Also noted, I think I got my love for coffee from your genes!  Not just directly yours, though I remember Granny and Grandpa and coffee brewing in the mornings when I used to visit them.  (This is also where I still have a fondness and remembrance of them when I have jam on toast with butter!).

You’ve also done well with loving people other than me!  You’ve tended the gardens of your life (and homes) to allow there to be people to care for in your life, and in reciprocate, they care for you too!

I do have concerns about how you will be in your new home, though you also have assured me that you’ll be okay.  I will have faith in this.

Anyhow…. I’m not quite so verbose with this page as I may be on the phone sometimes, though I do wish you a Happy Birthday and that you keep well and at ‘er in your life.

Thank you for being a kind and wonderful parent, and please keep yourself loved!!!

Robert James

 

 

Chapter 8

Don’t Throw Stones

The layers of text and context shift as rifts of time.  Some work at the Starubucks, and some of the lovestones I’ve met are based from Shell, Clouda’s, Wendy’s, or Stream.  There also are many randoms that have blended and mixed in.  I’ve had issues with some lovestones as friends, as the meld of how it’s probably because I don’t understand or respect them well enough.  If one is to live in a Glass House, then maybe it is the case the stones should not be thrown.  Maybe too some stones can be dredged up from the fields of tomorrow?

 

You’re at your course right now as the forces guide the horses and the cow.  Although they try to plough the field, some too wield PLU8R to ensure that they let me meet her.  The kittens and the written’s purr is used as a way to have truth fused, yet some have abused their role of adding to the eloquent goal.  Ensuring that some of this is fused, I want my pages to speak truth to people and help them too with their issues and dues used.  For you, you get to smile (and maybe laugh) as I like the type of happiness you too have, even if not to be my other half.

Although the flows are broken (and my smoking too helps mix them) the note of the different types of gem might not be understood in the lyrical hem.  When the lines are used and fused with some other people, the ideas get crossed and misdirected.  Although each letter is sequentially selected, I too must hone the graft and ensure that people are not ejected for needing to be guarded or protected from the craft.

They shard with the electives I made in the past.  Although some think I’m trying to pull a fast one over on them, I am not.  The plan AND the plot help tell the story from Lori and Deanna, even if you don’t know who they are in the knot.  Both gals were in the hospital with me, and I thought so much about Natalie back then.  In addition to ten reasons I should write, she should not allow herself into my sight.  To still chip in the repeating of the text to the shelf and dialects of shared tonects and intellects on a flight.

I’m not on about it.  It reflects the crowded places where space is not always able to be given.  I also think of my dad and note you do too… not mine, though rather your Shivan.  I too don’t want to open the door to tears, and I note that you’ve been through (and will carry on with too) one of my greatest fears.  Even though I only see them once every year or two, I cannot fathom the depths of what you feel now of how loving him still feels to you.

I do need to lighten this up and usually do with a deflection of humor.  Then too I should not make jokes about how some of the cows only have two legs and are not on the ranch!  I note we’re not at work in the next day, and I wonder of your forklift class while lifting up a sterling cup to you lass!!  You make it through, and I hope you keep thinking and developing your future too.  The crew at Shell also hold some others whom I like to hear, and the sands of the other’s ear too understands that my mind is slowly progressing through the years and lands.

While I want to go have a ciggie, I think of the hospital yesterday and how the triage nurse called me a piggie.  Then there are jokes about Kermit, or being a hermit, or when one says RE the other cheek, to turn it.  I have not a clue why I do what I do sometimes.  The use of rhymes calls the chimes that ring with the symbiotic idea to cling to the wing that fits no particular category.  The bits of the story told our mould of awareness is what was then to be paired on the fence like chess.

Although, yes, this does not make full sense, the pull of pence chipped in for the future tense too mulls the fizz to show that some people want to think they know what the situation is.  Then again, some people will refuse to believe the truth of the biz.  That’s part of my issue.  There are many who want to ping a point of damage, and while they seem to ravage those who don’t want the D, there still are some fuckers that keep chasing me with a ‘tree’.

Okay Anita… I’m going to go have a smoke and will fill the rest of this page with the ideas of how I’m often in the Shell cage.  We get treated by spirits that dredge up the cups of drinks.  The links of all around the MindSound too have found the bound book to shift the rook.  Take a look into the fact of how they’ve tracked each and every letter sent, even if I don’t know their intent.

The lines that weave that you believe in your mind too holds fact that might need to remind I shift the colds with tact.  The folds stacked a sense of purpose, and reason, about how and what to do for the world in the beginning of this autumn/winter season.

Keep well and warm and thanks for letting me form a page of ‘blah blah blah’ to the things that claw at the thought.  Some people think that love is what may be bought, though it’s not.  For the doors to view how there is only ever going to be bit of me, that share some bytes with you, no matter the plan or plot to construe.

To Sapphire Sprite

 

The idea of calling gals lovestones goes back to 1996-1998 when noded at SFU.  That’s where and when I formed first names for some lovestones.  Sprites are lovestones of a special type though.  There have been eight or so gals that I’ve called sprites through time, and they are dear lovestones… Then again, perchance I shouldn’t refer to gals as ‘stones’ even if there is love for some of them.

The sprite I wrote to in the first keystyle of this chapter is one who’s smunk a lot of pages from me.  She also is the one chapter eight of Finding Natalie was written to.  Emerald Sprite is a gal that is linked to Clouda’s (Pearl Sprite too!) and got married last year.  She’s often given me hugs (which are super rare for me), and my aunt Norma is a sprite too, though linked as Jet Sprite by name.  These gals (Sprites) are amazing people and brighten my being.

 

Winding through the finding to renew, a mix of you and how you treat me, Emerald… Thanks!  A line of spines that weave the quilt to tilt back and look at the sky.  We find the reasons of who, while some speak the reasons of why.  Meek like the try, yet still cross the corona of the heart.  Glad you’re kind, warm, and friendly, and also intelligent and smart!  Thrown across the tones of some kinds of thought, the phone’s to find the kinds of things that God has taught.

Clones brought up well as an only child as today has smiled well upon me and I thank you for the H.U.G..  Honourable Universal Grace as the trace of a smile too mixes into the file!  A cross of denial to show that the keystyles I write reminded me to contact another sprite.

The light shines and refracts bright from the sun as I must close one eye.  Like a 15 minute wink as I put this today into a cry.  The lies have been woven in the cloven leaf, as the four corners of the globe too hold the lyrical relief.  A reef teeming with life… the fish, the coral, the trine lines, the floral.

I also think of how the heavens are like triple sevens (or even eights as the series waits).  No date’s yet made, yet I wonder if we’ll make one.  The facts of how now is then, with the plough to show how and when.  Ten combinations as variations of the Magic.  They’re sensed like glaciations with the mix of now to then link Tajik.  Sometimes rhymes are restrictive and don’t allow a direct thought… then again some of them make sense and seem to deepen and tighten the knot.

The plan to bring what I ought to convey.  Some things on earth will never be taken away.  While some play, pray, and say, some do things that I condone will hone the craft for those staffed at the shop.  The laughter cries lullabies from the bottom to the top, as a drop in too shall show that there are billions on this planet, yet very few we yet get to know.  Thank you for being a proton jewel!  I am glad (and a bit humbled) as a tender defender of the rule.

A spool of thread winds through the tapestry with lyrical mastery that shall be known.  Some more goodness is what I shall help answer, share, and condone.  To hone the skills for love, and to help each dove find that the stars of the night.  They shine bright to and for some below and above, yet Felicia’s idea is that the night sky is an abyss.  This also blends her to you, Sabrina, with a revision of this.

I remind myself that some things too are delicate like a guy and gal’s first kiss.  They told of the blissful pull of breath that was known too of Beth, and how the consecrations of some of my codes go back to when I used to smoke meth before the odes.

Death held me in a cradle with a ladle to scoop out the skull.  Some people taint my reactions and find me wishing to rip out what they can’t pull.  Full well irenic with a heliosynthetic tick in the brain, the ruby form, of myself, in the past was called Stain.

The mix of the ninja, though, shows the flows like crows to find.  There too are the angel wings worn that some can’t see I also mind.  Wound up to link beyond the mere progression as life, the nodes of all the lovestones, and some of whom yearn to be a wife.

I’ve told not the bold that the hold shall mould and fold the idea of the text, and how there are many other lovestones and shoulsmen in these sects.  Next merely a sequential anomaly formed letter by letter by space, and the realms of divinity too help keep myself in check and in place.

I trace out the aura of flora and fauna, and another track asked the question “Girl, do you wanna?!”  I may have said too much and should close the page for now.  Bring back jokes of ground beef and a no legged cow!  The Tao too holds some insight of what is wrong and right, yet the sequence of divinity knows you also as Emerald Sprite.

Thank you for noding and for treating me so kind, as the facts of what you too find, of me, seem to be far too pre-designed.  Wind to have sinned that pinned up to sup with a cup d’leau, as the series of the questions will be held with answers you come to know.  Thanks Sabrina!  I am glad I get to know you.  Be true and press through.  PLU8R 4Ux2

To Emerald Sprite (March 2015)

 

Ruby, as a Shoulspeak word, has a few codes and ideas that are stemmed about itself.  Ruby Sprite is one who used to work at Clouda’s, a place that has seeded and held a great point, nodal location, and seed of it’s own.  Though Ruby Sprite’s dear, I also know not her plans and plots.  She’s helps me with my journey as she is a loved friend, and yet cannot seem to lend her my heart in the ways that we’ve yet to impart.  She keeps great and kind care of me and also is one of the few (up to when written) friends that will visit my home, or go for coffee.

 

Four of you were clumped around the mana bin before these words started to spin like a gyroscope.  The hope refines the sacred signs that the scarab designs.  Spines mingle with a single myth, and then test the rest with the intuition of a sapphire mission in the west.  Swishing back to the green in between the lines that signals a pull of breath.

I don’t do meth again, and while holding the pen, the meld of the ten minds wound around the spool to find a tender proton jewel.  A tender school of how the sleeves are rules made about how then will be now.  While their bow is in the flow, the correct pronunciations must show that the guess of respect is what the shoulsmen inject.  It sent an idea that let the stone’s smiles reflect.  A speck of how the notions held in the oceans meld about the deck.

Though to weld some words that are not correctly spelled, reflect on the sea that gelled well at home.  To roam about the grout, and sprout a flow for an aura to glow, just like a halo from above and below to trust the synergy shall grow that we continue with the show.

While no correct perception is made in the drink we wade within, a pool filled with Jello will share a concerto with a cello to win.  Mellow out and chill without a pill to calm the nerves, as the file deserves to tile the floor with the second or third store to explore The Score.  Neural pathways in a dazed effect.  They select the tonect and inspect the fact you just spun around yourself with this shelf of rhyme.  We shared the exact time within the page to connect myself with your climb.

To gauge the weight of the door to how they straighten out the situation with a notation of elation.  As even though often a good feeling, should we be softening and revealing the concealing of the correct notation of the dealing?  Decreeing a page of sealing the stage for the games freeing the mage, I laid down to sleep, many years ago, into the memory of the CD.  Some things are done by me with a key to show you are also free.

Share joy!  Share glee!  Share the fact that there is only ever one of you, and only ever one of me!  There too is the fact that although the tact is shown through communication, the tone, and enunciation, there is that yet to be heard from the mental word in this variation.

Life is not always assured or insured against a stone rain.  A petrified station with 33 1/3 played earlier in the day.  Maintain the tournament to relay had yet been started to covey the Id charted like a mental patient with an ancient type of love.  Above and below the flow they tow along like the raft of a craft as C4’s was staffed by you, Alexi, Jenn, Cory and Dan.  The pan friend potatoes find arigatos and those things like chicken wings!

While this brings the rings up like a Sol, the compressed coal shares the roll while some mean to be keen and troll the beat with a sweet lyrical treat.  To shuffle feet on the concrete as this keystyle’s not quite complete.  Repeat and bleat like a lamb with a clam of Spam as the green eggs with kegs of whisky find another lovestone to be a bit too frisky.  A Brisk drink to link of how there are dishes in the sink to link the smink and not the bin of the wink.

Clink in the tip jar with Grover near far to seed the starship.  Seed the satellite from the hip and grip the asphalt with a way to halt the structure.  Time and space to juncture with a rhyme about this place!  Construct her trace to climb from grace to the chime to be heard in space.  Trace out the aura with the flora and fauna as this told by the page needs a comma to Phaige?  Where in the meld shall we find me not to be just like a yacking llama held on the second stage?

From the sum of the whole (all beyond my control) the foals bless the mess and find the grapes in the press for wine.  A line to the divine and a way to share the sign, as told the group was one more than nine with the pen to incline others with a shared design.

Trines are groups of three held together with one melding notion; that a smile struggle potion with stimulate emotion or elate within the ocean.  This kid’s to skip the trip and share a felt tip to let the chips fall on the table, yet told you’re as bold as a fable told by the gold that is lacked.  That stacked upon the dawn will never need her to be a pawn or a con.

To Ruby Sprite

 

The shift of this twist in how there also is the fact that there are some lovestones that are dearly loved, though will never be the gal that I build the Glass House with.  A layer of wish and prayer, though, is it that they’ll still be loved friends that will meet me there one day?

I know that I can’t yet afford my own life, let alone a girlfriend, though that is partly why I keep at my work.  The idea from this is that I have spoken, yet not totally have tended to, the gardens, fields, and lines of life.  It’s partly my role and responsibility to stream these rows of word, one after the next, for our combined and shared yields.  There still is much to unfold.

 

A page from me to you through the use of a computer asking you to argue which frog is cuter!  Dropped the equation into notations that meld when they spelled out the sitch with a pitch of a cos.  A verbose layer of how some are truer when a player, yet maybe they splay ‘er well enough as Puff, as told that some of my lyrics don’t mean enough.

Glean the mix of some stuff and how Acro’s the flow that towed along the rafts of the cheese like Kraft’s Velveta.  Est ce que ç’est aussi vrais que vous êtes un chikita bonita, young seniorita?!  Meep the sands of sleep in the bands that we may keep.  Also hold the bold stare of the pair that meld and weld a draw of Canasta that gelled.

Rasta’s and Shasta’s to receive the drink of how the thought is brought up to sup with bit of food and a good cup of drink!  Should the seffabliity link, the smink might slink up for a smoke, as told even if there’s no money in the pockets it doesn’t mean I’m broke!

The locket’s worn by one torn from the sum of the whole.  The use of a smoke and elloquative control shares a bowl, though the elephant pipe broke.  Eloquent as they type and have spoke about the grout and shared a sprout from Tim.

The blue’s whim in the mix to tend the intellect and deception of a mention of how love cries lullabies.  The rise and fall of how now the plough tears through the rocks with no knocks on the door.  Charms like Lucky find this ducky in the mucky waters with some more with the daughters that progress with a no and a yes.

Stressed out and improving while grooving the mix of the mice.  Held in the meld without price, a slice of DNA is put into the day with a play of the node’s splice.  The road has flowed into the view of how there are so many more of you that will renew the signs we see.

The seed to a tree, as the key of how we shall help and assist the twist that saves Dave’s nephew’s S.M.I.G..  Though still to smoke a beer (and shed a tear) to the spin of the tin, it’s now within the mix of above and below with the towed raft to let us show how you were staffed at the shop.  The drop of the network to lurk out of bounds with the sounds of the undergrounds, yet not the sea.

Corry on the other side of this table as the fable is worn to have the shoreline incline perspective.  A tectonic directive to sieve the drink as they argue about the heroes, and how her oh’s and awe’s in subtle cause show the crow that Doug lunk to.

Smunk a few (and showed the ode of the toad to hop into the book), they shake the bass to make a correct perception of things that we cook, took, or mention.  A look into how a mission finds omission and circumvention?  Toes in the water with the potters claws as the crow again mixes with the topics of consciousness.  A tropical island in the Spawn of a dress.

The mess made has found that although there are many influences, the Spidey senses tingle like a single myth of who’re your told to be with.  One who chases the graces of space’s protocol… to put the poster up on the wall to be looked at by y’all!  Hooked by the thrall as there too is the fizz in the pop to stop, drop, roll, collaborate and listen to the Hammer Time in the name of love.

Above and below the flow there is an entire notion that is held in the potions of your smile and the loss of your denial.  Told a keystyle is written for one, yet the other nodes smink in the loading of a different form of fun.  Find the pause and play repeated flaws in the flows that I think and say to have a cause.  Those that link into the mozzie that drinks the blood with a thud from the next textbook line like a person’s introversion in the conversation and conversion.  A noted excursion with a version of text that is made from the next dialects of tonects in consects.

I have not a clue what I should do regarding some other than you.  My music does sometimes make the head nod to the beat, yet as a treat cod and halibut are to be battered and then served with chips to eat!  Sooo… Keep the seeds you sow with a flow akin to you, and I shall fly in the sky with the reasons of our why.  We reset and renew and find our lessons to apply, yet don’t forget, Adam Cumbers loves pie!!

Also to Ruby Sprite

 

The chapter was seeming to be fully sprite based, though a blend of location and intent had some of this shifted.  The Starbucks again mentioned, and noted that that’s where a lot of my written material has been formed.  From the point of some gals, the twist of this may mix to their shoulsmen.  Just as there are lovestones, there also are loverocks and shoulsmen.  That’s for the next chapter though.

 

Brought to the ideas that were said when led back to the track.  A pack of smig will carry on, more and less, to press the door to the guess about the grout.  Although I go all out, I too have my own doubt about the sprout the life.  Told too of above and below, the flows that juxtapose the arigatos and the Latin you spin is into the Chinese Zodiac.  I track this page for you with Nabin Shanti in the ears.

The prerogative to not give into the plot shall find those who ought to convey.  There are some that trust, and the rust that Matt speaks of will find the doves to climb out to Dawn and the swan.  We find that none are a pawn.  I’m not a king (or queen) yet the Starbucks scene allows the ploughs of thought to be brought up to sup with a cup of good drink.

A spade digs the clubs up to a diamond heart and how their part of the ware’s wave too show that Dave’s way back to the start.  The plans made by God shall get my nod of approval, as including the removal of my sin.  The spin of the kin into the tin reminds me that this is to you.  I thank you for your grace and not kicking me out of your place!  We know I’ve learned to grant space as then to the fact that, for some, love will never be lacked.

Some of those who’ve macked have stacked my lines up straightened spines to show the heightened signs that another designs.  The link to Sarah too calls the walls back to the drops like a mint.  Some hints are given about how others are living well on the outer sides of Shell.  I dwell in the sands of time to meld with the bands of rhyme, as the climb up to the mountain top shall show they sup with a fountain to stop again.  It’s into how you too know now that I do, and don’t, and will, and won’t, drop even thirty minutes after ten.

I have a pen to clue you to cue up the track.  The facts of what he says are true to you.  The lines of the violet hue shall show no violence, as the silence is true about how some try to view with QBlue.  Through you thought you through though, the facts shall show the crow that you know has met to set, as yet to unfold into the melancholy cold.  An hombre to hold on and share the pair with their lines as to digital signals in the air’s designs.

In the CDs code, there is a road to travel and ravel up the pup into how they drop the volume down to sup.  Anyhow… this now is in the fizz of how my business was having Magic cards to sell.  I also note that the net is up to the ocean, and catching dolphins with the spins of the spiders web of devotion.  It’s a notion in the potion of the TrueCyberEbb to link the lovestones and shoulsmen to the gem with the hem.

The spin too of the rocks too show them who the mox is, and why the clocks are in the misery I shall not feel.  I deal the world a card to shard the bards into stasis.  A bite of rhymes from others will be guards of my mother’s son who made The Basis.

The sounds find the grounds of coffee stretch out time like toffee.  The facts of the Jets also show that four are involved in the sapphire that evolved a ruby, into an emerald, to a pearl to herald the mix.  How infinity shall show the Trinity is in the spin of how seven actually ate six.

Then Mark Campbell to guide as the SEW words show the sides of how the rides find the lide that’s set the birds in heart.  The part of the fibe and fid has set the mix of her dad and what he says of you.  I know not though who, as you know that the lovestone’s honing for the skills zoning in on the cloning of bills.  Chills of the bones, so that I need not fumble with the stones.  Let impact of love to not be lacked with a sequence of mental drones.

Although I know not how to show you a proper statement of intent, many zones hope you thrive and keep your heart and mind glad and content.  Keep well Ms. Joyce, and let my voice be chilled like a frap!  We remember that I’m not one who makes hip-hop or rap, as I just throw the codes into the loaded beat and split the street onto a cleat.  To be honey, and not because you, or I, are funny or sweet.  Pause, play, (not to puff), repeat.

 

There’s also a delicate balance of having likeness or love for another stone in a few different situations.  There is the case that if another gal has a partner or boyfriend, there is the notion and intent of being a shoulsman (honourable male) to those randoms that we don’t know.

There is the case that a random conversation is sometimes enjoyed, though when I’m at the Starbucks, I must SCUBA… i.e. to stay focused on my work and not interfere with the other reef life.  There are some lovestones that are kind and good to some of us, and that’s also where PLU8R should be strengthened and fortified.

 

Keep it classy Cassie, as to rise like Dawn to the series that I’m to go on here.  Although you’ve reared up two kids, I still don’t know if you can comprehend the bids I’ve made.  I want to fade against the sunset with the pets to live, love, and thrive.  I’m back home in about a week from taking a trek to where I may leak more pages before the stages.  Although I hang out with some of the mages, there too is the view of some other people that do know I’m needing to be more true.

There are so many and so few that will let us, let alone appreciate, what we do.  So while this file is to cross an ocean, the potions I sip are to help aid the trip to let the music skip like a stone across the ponds of which we’ve not yet known.  I can see in my mind the house I want to build, and while in Chilliwack, I play a bit with the guilding of rhyme and place.  We’ve been told that my climb up from grace too shall find space to hold the starlight and guide me to do what is right.

She may not think it’ll all work out, though she too doesn’t understand this sprout.  Some lines hold truth like grout, that they are words formed upon the fabric of reality that shall show that although there has been much deceit, there too will be a sweet to match the words on beat.  These pages sometimes hatch some lives like birds that are to repeat.

Gems like the fabric we weave too are to help others perceive.  When we are lied to, we still may understand who is (and who is not) true.  Through the music I make, the ideas of the fake have been held in the meld.  While some want me felled, the lyrics too have gelled to hold the elective enrolled.  We’re set to find the selective fold and choice of when, and if, to be bold with our voice.

It’s cold where you are, though still we see the orbit of the stars in the bars of awkward measure.  Writing rhymes is a form of work and also a contialitic pleasure.  There are treasures to be given to my Shivan while livin’ a life they may not yet condone.

The seeds I’ve sown are decades of thought and words and tone, and at this point, mainly shared with those that have known me.  Though some flows have leaked out of the community I am a apart of, I don’t want to depart from love.

The hearts of those who hold themselves above seem to have me be like a straggly dove; one that can’t seem to comprehend that it’s love and luck they send.  I still want to chill with some of my family and friend, and also have grown up enough to know that arguing is useless.  Yes, I do feel anger and resentment sometimes, though will check my own intent when I write rhymes.

The sight of the climbs up to the mountain top will aid the fountain to not need to stop.  Although I do (and will) drop in a few pence for the drink, I too think the fences jumped may help others who’ll have linked.  I’m glad to sit there with my dad, and although I shall curb feelings of getting mad at his gal, I note while I’m here on this planet they are a group of two that live together.  I shall continue to evolve and convalesce even if clever to never sever.

I too shall help dissolve and sort out this mess.  I do not want to guess about how I shall earn my income and life, and note that even though I wanted to meet Natalie, she will never be the one I marry as wife.  There is a second thought; that while I’ve been brought across the pond, that that shall have dawned on the next day, as not for me to yet understand what we convey.

I too can’t comprehend all (and if) it is real love that she sends.  I’ve been trying to make amends, and though I too note that some life goes deeper than the bends, the friends also have stuck like glue to the perspective of the verbal cue.  A turtle seems to construe what I do, and while there are so many and few that know about the flow, I still seem to think that the world shall come to know that the debt I owe is beyond cash.  I too note it is I that has sometimes been too harsh or brash.

 

And though Jet Sprite was not linked, I do recall that there are some who are family and let me thrive.  Even if I sometimes have scared the birds away, and tend not to gather the Magic to find others fly into the shop, I still will continue with my work.  We should remember also of the fact that some stones are also trying to find their own garden being tended and known.  Careful when you add water or light to (or worse yet try to weed) another’s garden.  Some do NOT wish for their garden to be tended by another.  It’s not easy to be a peaceful gardener, even with permission and consent.  Too much water, or sun, can damage what are growing in the soil.

 

From me to you, as some come from the blue skies that the Wry’s shall share and not disguise.  The air outside brisk, to reside in the tide of how lide is when we’ve cried.  Though we guide the cosmos with a verbose layer of text, it’s next from you to me.  Certainty of the key of WE.

The trees symbolize the green, with keen insight into how it is, and is not right.  Thought of the night and how freight has it’s sleight on how we may or might ignite the rite to take in the sight.

From the order and protection of white, a selection is made to unite.  They razz their friends that go as deep as the bends, and though they sleep through the trends and find amends, this is made after the sunsets are to fade.  The star’s prayer to wade in the warm water, grow old and wise, and also have a daughter.

The potter shapes and moulds the folds of rhyme and bass, with the time to place the page into the stages that let the net unfold the sombre cold.  How we’re yet not allowed to hold onto the view of True and also get to explore with you?!  There are so many and so few that know what to do, and I am not one of them.

A gemstone to hone in on the ish of what you wish.  How the dishes of food are for my cat in this interlude.  A bit harsh, a bit rude, yet still a dude to let us ride around the MindSound with fate and free-will bound to a Course of Fate and Destiny in the Key of E.  No one standing, or laying down, next to me to find the dialects of the sea.  Grasping at straws while the crow caws from the limb.  I’m not you, I’m him.

Not the one to let the set be done, yet rather too not to be the one to have their voice on vinyl spun.  Just a son who knows flows and how those things that are brought from the mox find the sly and witty fox.  To link to the socks on the paws with a cause to work for life, and not just the hands on the clocks working for the evasion of strife.

There are more things that shall and shall not be allowed.  The field is ploughed and tilled with good seed as we heed the need to proceed well beyond the Shell.  To dwell in the story and tell us that we stand on our own tones that band that known.  Will the quarry condone?!?  Hone in on the spin of the kind word that is heard from the sum of the whole.  There are so many things that are held in a weld of control.

Continue to the soul and how the being is seeing the hearts and clubs in the dubs.  The myth of an Ith.  Then, when intents are held in the meld before they dwelled in the thought, you have brought the knot into a propeller to tow along the crafts.  Grafts of the Nin show the sin shed within the bold cases of our future with kin.

Out to the fast realms of space and how the laced LED lines find spines that mingle.  One said to mingle single and find the tingles in the feet after sitting with crossed legs.  Movie Meg’s and those that keep the pegs on the board.  Told the Lord they’re adored, and then floored out the grout to share a sprout and bless the pout given as libe.

Still within the tribe of a creative scribe to share the fibe and socio-emotional words with the birds.  The curds and the herds of cattle that still want me to battle.

A rattlesnake to let the bass shake while you know an earthquake needs a point of red.  Led back to the track that I lack as read from within the stacks of chips seen in front of Troy’s trips.  Shake the drips off the faucet, as they toss it back to you as so many and so few who do, and do not, skip the traps of the plots tied inside the ride.  The knots remind those signed that that lined up to sup will be able to refill the cup.

Told that what’s up is from a cat, not a pup, to turn the volume down to sup.  I wonder when we shall meet, and how this page will read complete as I sit in my seat with my pet near my feet.  There we are in the tar like Tasha Yarr an how Grover’s near far.  To seed the starship with a familial drip with a pen in grip.

Told that the hen may need a quip of the lion’s den until ten equip the men’s minds of the mental rinds.  Those who allow the beauty to hone in on the spin of how the cuties in the pinned up lapel share a heart to dwell in that weld.  The meld of how well the belly swelled and gelled as a child with ones that we have connected with when our souls have been held.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

Believe in the Shoulsmen

The reference made to stones and the tones of thought.  What else should be brought forth are the shoulsmen and their links!  The facts of The Contialis are varied and textured by some that we see and know by sight, yet not by direct connection.  Though formed with intent, it also might be shown that there are some other people who are honourable and respectful.  We also can blend in how some lovestones only want to be a friend.  If she does friend zone you, don’t kick her away.  If you really do like her its better than losing her entirely.

 

Draw the mana from the swamp and stomp like a titan!  I tighten up the spool with a fuel to spike and heighten a jewel.  A sapphire to clone the page and find the cards earned as a wage.  While the stage is set by a line from a jet, it’s not yet known what else will be on this keystyle for you.  From a mix of the moxes and Mr. McGoo, the cue to speak might leak some perception.  Though not a mana intervention, the suspension of time is used in the forming of this rhyme.

Storming like the climb up to the mountain top, as with the slander and libel I stop.  Drop in on the friend to amend and contend to be true to many more than a few.  Through the Deep Blue View, a freestyle was brought to the thought through the ears by one who nears perception that we’re not allowed to mention.

A cloud for prevention while the hydraulic suspension rattles the ground with subs that pound.  This may be found around the place where Magic players compete, though I’m neither hardcore or street.  Yet still to move the groove, a line from Mike Haydamack says “I don’t care if you approve!”

Mixing drinks with human links, the loss of an Alpha Bayou really stinks, though it’s part of what I lost when into drugs I was tossed.  While I ought not to chill around a bong, I do recall the song, and how the layers of what’s wrong are part of what some people want to gong.  Chong!  Hong!  Yipchang!  Pero!  (Sobrang praning puti na ako!)

That’s a mix of TaeKwonDo and some Philippine flow that I used to throw from the stage.  Oh Shit!  Rage quit!!  The byte to form the bit, while the calming pastoral node finds her knitting a sacred code.  Your sister’s a savannah, though you seem to disagree.  Ironically I saw her today when I was at a course with another in the play.

Some déjà vu was seen when I was writing this for you, as the series of the consect is something that I do and don’t connect.  Tonects from some who come from a slightly different place, even if the facts are empty and found with a hollow trace.  “Pump up the bass!!!” and then chase the lines down the drain into the sewer, as some guys just ask the question “Do you think that you could do ‘er?”  A bad question to ask, as I don’t know where this is going… the rehashing of the story might be one way that this is flowing from the quarry with what we’re sowing.

While tiptoeing on eggshells in the garden of delight, I find a reference of Lisa Loeb and Lori held in the mix of different sight.  While white is protection and order, some recorder makes his mark.  Too many cigarettes have been smoked outside in the light of dark.  Pause, sip, write, pause, spark… then the words fly out to you like a Lark.  The telling of the dwelling is like a tooth and nail shark!

“No No!  It’s just ice-cream” said the penguin!  Another I know has a personality of a Sanguine.  While within the spin of the smokes from a tin, when I’ve played you at Magic, when with you have I ever claimed a win?  Aimed to kin, yet I know some haven’t yet been born.  The flow is the pet in the net that sometimes cannot call up, though they warn with signs that mingle on a 1/4 pound single.  The question is asked “Do you really need a Baconator?!”

Find the truth and state ‘er quick, as the prophecy is continuing even if I’m a one person clique.  Bricks build the guilding of time and space, while the location that I was at had found clear mids and a heavy set of bass.  A U.F.O.’s bevel to shape the treble and the cause, as the fact that I’m here on earth has it’s own stellar and sacred lyrical flaws.

The crows flows show those things that divinity brings, as told that some signals show the brevity of kings.  Always (with wings) as the reference of a mattress is made, and if you ask Kyle Pede he might tell you how that’s relayed!

Thanks for being kind to me and for gifting me some cards.  Thanks also for letting me plumb this to be made for you by one of our modern day bards.  The guards of the cosmos find a verbose layer of text to you, as I wonder if you’re a dualland, are you also blue?

 

There are sometimes people that we may have incorrect beliefs about, including their intent.  The layers of paranoia, and wish to love anyways, show also how there are some people that I’ve been tentative about.  My own mental illness has spun a few lines of thought through the tapestry.  One of my issues is that I often am not clear about people’s intents (even my own sometimes) and it leads to fear.  When there is a direction of intent separated by distance (and time (and contact)) it also will weave a different idea than the source of the rhyme.  Not being able to talk with another person in person for a long time can add the caution and lack of certainty.

 

Okay… On guard for the cosmos!  I form this verbose layer of text where it’s warm within the next day.  I got to go to Australia to visit and play!  While told that some people think I did betray, there too is the fact that I lay myself out for some as a contialitic sprout to come (sometimes) like rhymes thrown into grout.  I shall learn to hone the skills for love and not just the bills.  Must it to be noted that making an income out of more than a decade of effort is what I curtly shall do?  It also includes the facts that some tracts shall not undo.

I made a mistake yesterday by relaying on a post to a page that got some tempers a bit hot.  Although the intent was to share something cool, it fueled up a message in capital letters asking for me to make an apology.  Ironically, I had the intent to bring a good link and wish not to think about it any more for now.  Hold on, I need to go get something from the line…

Okay! back!  (Yet it may not show in the design).

While some come from a different place in space with spine from many lightyears away, I seem to understand that even when I invest effort and line each day, some people just don’t seem to want to allow us to relay.  I shall not pray for some things, and while they do want to come across as kings, I shall just keep to my own and let MY garden be tended and known.

It’s true that there are some people who are truer to others, and then get cued up by some who claim to be brothers.  Yet still, the wonders of time and space shall allude me to clear, reset, and meld with a different pace.  Pick up the cup and take a drink to make a link and share the smink’s base.  A second take of how I’ve invested a shitload of love and effort into some people and their businesses, and although it was an honest mistake, I still can’t take away the fact that it almost always has seemed OUR love is what’s put a smile on their face.

So while stacked, the mermaid needs to get out of her seashells and into something a little more comfortable.  I pull myself away from other people’s anger and negativity getting in the way.  To avoid the splay of one becoming three and share this with thee, Bryan, that some vying for position on the field will wield the keys for pages like these into our communal field.

I’m not a rapper or one of the MCs, yet shield this ironic ease of being able to seize my own intuition from mp3s.  I will keep others from wanting to abort my life’s mission, even when fishing the eaves of my brain.  Some stains in the patchwork shall match the Turkish wish of there always being good food and another day to Glish.   I shall swish Shoulspeak and the fish in the waters of this daughter’s contialitic dad.  Some people are a tad too intrusive, yet I find that lined is for another kind way you’re elusive.

There are some cards in the deck that shall share that I stick out my neck for quite a few of them.  It also seems to be the case that some don’t reciprocate for the Introversial hem.  Anyways, todays almost turning into the sunset for my own, as way to let go and carry on.  It isn’t always held as another’s notion of the tone to shift like Fawn.

While across an ocean, I seem to want to retract my devotion and show that it seems they don’t really share care.  So while I am allowed to sit outside, I too hope I may find those that will appreciate and understand the prayer from a guide.  To help a bunch while crunching the cipher for those that seem to wait for my mistakes to inject venom like a viper.

Although I’m just a typer of pages instead of a worker for wages, the cages of the sitch shall find that the kinds of things that divinity brings are under my wings instead of those pings on the sonar.

A switch to move and shed some sin from afar.  I wish them to spin peace, love, and prosperity and let themselves be glad.  While I’m here visiting my dad and my step-mum, I shall help show to some where I come from, what I do, and why I do it.  We will find the fuse of the landscape as a group of three twos.

Full well known I’m not part of crew any more, my dad and Sarah just got in the door.  I will hurry up and get this page saved and sent as I understand that even if I do have good intent, some people still don’t want to share the tent I build before the home.  Told that some on earth must always roam.

 

I removed the paragraph that was to be used for the lead in to the next.  In the situation I was in, there was some activity that was exceptionally aggravating.  I wish not to taint the world with my reaction to invasive behaviours.  If I am to help seed, abide by, and cultivate PLU8R, then there also must be a shift in my own behaviour.  The breach of the basic level of respect can set ablaze the mind and turn a peaceful person into a bucket of anger.  As I learn how to evade the ‘doings’ of some people, I hope to learn and pass on my lessons so others need not have to deal with the same goading that has been made upon myself.

 

The variant of not being able to spell started this page charted to know, full well, that some are higher than heaven and deeper than hell.  They keep the belle and shell out the mix with a bag of tricks about how some taunt others just for their own personal cliques.

Kicks of the bricks find that you lined in the poetic notation is an aid of variation of subtle text, with a rebuttal of what’s next.  They cross the sects with dialects that are spoken from one who’s tried cloaking up the mind, yet still other evasive actions are found in variations of what’s signed.

I get a bit angry and unkind when others wind up the spring and make me want to pop them with a sting.  Code Five is flying back to the hive, and some people are welcome at my home even if they still haven’t received an invitation to arrive.  Then there are some people who put notions in my brain that make me want to vengefully lash out with the elements of Stain.  While they do remain alive, there is no hope of me to say that I’d even want to see them in my sight, let alone stay with them forever and a day.

Anyways… the haze in the room from the ciggies I smoke shall find that although the flows may be woven from the tapestry of your dream, there is a fibic stream released.  Some others do want to call out the vengeance on the beast.  Others may wish to feast and gel full well with hell, as there is no way to say that they too shall stay away.  While told that there are few people I hate, there too are some that also enjoy a crate of being ones to bait.

The keys lifted up or from the sum of the couch.  Some thoughts are like a flea if my mind’s a kangaroo pouch.  Then again some names should not be used as this fused to another person who deserves peace, love, unity, and respect.  Though they know a lot of my intellect, they select to set me up for an insult that is deep in their being, and not to the ones whose pages I’ve been keying up.

There are some people that I’d like to hang out and up with a nice cup of drink, preferably wine in a glass, even if I don’t like to think to sup.  I shall pass on the web of the TrueCyberEbb and age with the page to stage the coach.  I too know they shall not die like an obviously festering roach.

Some encroach upon mind and not time, yet still the kinds of things that I have are intuition of Sublime. I share that I don’t want to have to weave away from putting them astray, though some people have abducted my thought and tried to get me beat or shot.  The plot and the plans excel way past the cans behind her and I’s car, as we finally see the stars that cross the light into a sound so sweet that she’d turn me right into sight.

Speaking of some who come from the same place where I landed, the lyrics have banded the trap into the crap that I used to be when swearing.  The dues that I pay are pairing the sounds of the day.  When will we really find a way to send hounds into the fray?  To find us develop leaps and bounds by keeping us from the mind of the grounds of today?  I gracked out the fact that their life I want stacked away and out of range of day or night, person or sight, or even left right out from the field that is bereft for the yields of might.

The cleft of what’s been told.  The elective is controlled beyond the point of how I was wanting to, though didn’t, smoke a joint.  I love the smell yet shall not taste, as the rest of the world is too somehow encased.

While placed up on the wall, the call sign weaves into the transmissions from the eaves.  It too is told that from earth some people may mould with the leaves.  While each file is written for an audience of few, Mr James Kopenen, this one was written for you.

It includes a lot of references that have probably gone askew because of people getting into my mind and making it about them and not you.  Do not continue on with the myths that some abuse, as there are so many other people that shall help and let me pay my dues.

Told to not call women shoes, the twos to threes, line five more to ten four C’s.  Cues of ease, yet pages like these keystyles are to trace the worlds of how I’m obviously not one of the G’s.

 

Rewind back a few many years.  The ideas of some of the kids at Wendy’s also blended how this world is made and viewed.  Though a bunch of us are decent and respectful humans, the blends of life share that those are the ones that should be supported.  The theories and ideas of life that are held when locked into an environment that one cannot escape, also tarries some to heart that will help keep some of the unkind forces away.  The idea of gathering and tending and bonding with PLU8R people; this will help fortify and find a resolve that shall help keep peace and the balance of what is right and true.

 

While the audio is in the flow that you don’t yet know, the snow will drop from the sky, as we know I’m not hip-hop, though why?  Because I mixed the fuzz and the reasons of how I don’t rock shows, or even share flows that are in popper cadence or sense.  Receiving also a role that the galaxies swarm around like a wormhole with the fence that is like my soul.  Transporting to another dimension, purporting divine intervention, and the lack of mention of prevention of tension.

Conventional jobs are not what I shall do.  I also note I don’t hang out with a preset crew.  I cue up the linguistics like shamanistics in the jungle.  The Contialis warped around this, while it’s true too that there are so many and so few that know what to do with their lives.  Some have husbands.  Some have wives.  Some have the notion to prove that without a standard job Robert still strives to improve!  I work in the murky waters that seem like caramel daughters that have yet to find the potters move.

Shape the clay on the wheel of paper… that that is still yet like the will of how then will be now.  The ploughs carried by the oxen like the Husky and the sled as so many times I’ve come close to death, though still alive to write this and not yet dead.

Some head bangers will watch the show with hangers of the band.  Some others stand on the sidelines.  The slangers share the signs of a flower on the wall, with a tower to call, and out to sprout with a textbook line into the node of the sign to ball.  I’m inclined to wind up the threads of who we know (and those that use the flow) to show that although there are so many and so few that know what we do, there is the fact that many few are true like you or myself.

Told that a shelf word is one that is spoken on (after being read or heard) yet the birds cry lullabies for the creative disguise of word.  I’m such a cliché!  Also now noted that I think it’s pronounced neesh not nitch as they pitch the body into the sensual pleasures of her shoulic treasures.  Measures of the Mindsound (instead of the underground) will assure the lessons won’t leach that found.

Bound in a book to take a look and shift the rift into a gift of a hook of nodal theory.  The question asked, “Who flasked up her smile onto his face?”.  Some trace the outward edges of inner pledges while the spinner wedges into the river.  Give ‘er a bit of love to let the dove call the wall and find the thrall of how some ball and drug.  Some other’s thug, and then there are some that are (like me) about as dangerous as a shar-pei or pug.

Felicia was told to hug her mug and drink the tea (and it links to another notion of a message from your sister to me!)  Anyhow Master Scyner, they refine ‘er well enough as when known as Puff.  This stuff seems to understand that what I create with my mind is not just my own sand.  I have shown a disguise with the rise and fall of breath as Beth and Katie find the stately dream where there is a team that guards.  I don’t know why they act like khans and also consume the shards.

The bards lets the web of the TrueCyberEbb be spun, yet not to catch a fly (or other bug).  It’s just like my life to plug away with the day, although there are issues about the tears that were caught by one lost in a plot.  The thought too to radiate that it’s too early to know this is in a good pot.  Too late to tell that it’s like Yoshi eating a blue shell, yet correctly adjusting the bevel to thrive and excel.

The level of the only person that we may be.  I hope we may proficiently dwell and not just cope, even if they think we live for free.  Told that if you don’t want to drop the person, call them soap!  My nieces too are pieces of God’s puzzle… thinking too of the puppy analogy showing I too wear a mental muzzle of hope.

What I ask of you, though, is that you continue to set goals and dreams and find the foals to the streams.  While I choose to write reams of digital text, I also am asking others to help us become aware as to what is next.

The wares of The Contialis that this intersects (with tonects from Oasis) also have reminded that there are billions of humans, though the consect’s designed by life, the only basis.  Once upon a time, in a fawn to share the rhyme, into the belly went Shelly to let the television climb.

 

The weaves of space are part of the Fractured Formation.  Just as there are many different people in our lives, and on this planet, there also are distinct timelines and spatial parameters.  Even though when we read a book there is a linear stream of text, the fragments of time are woven into the thread.  A mental loom of sorts that forms our insight into life, even if it’s like grains upon the shoreline melted and honed into a glass ware.  Think also of how a pearl is formed… from one grain of sand and much time puddled in oyster juice!

 

Bill!!  I till the soils of the field with good seed to yield!  We know also, now, that it should be revealed.  Concealed in the note is a boat to float an ocean across the moat.  To let that written mix in the devotion to the kitten Wink’s meow.  Knowing how he was alone so much, and somehow was loved too much yet not so well.  Now on the other side our earthly shell.  The gal that dwells in my dreams find them sipping water from streams yet a daughter without screams.  Reams of paper used to have fused the pages I write, though during the night, some share the sight of how both wrong and write share the song to fly a kite.

Thanks for the gifts!  This page lifts up the situation in a notation made the night after another ‘light’.  I’ll explain my plight.  Dana’s a gal I really liked, though there too is another spiked that held the rope around my neck.  Although I’m just a speck in the cosmos, I could get verbose about another who’s mother is Australian, and her dad from Italy.  While reality holds neither in my arms, there is the fact that my pet might have insight that he cannot share like his past charms.  He’s thus far shown a fair lack of English speech.

Although I thought her to be in reach, the other ones might learn and grow to see me teach.  Like an emperor and a peach, I wish not to breach the loss of the cross between the ideas that I toss out and away to seed a sprout.

Convoluted about the doubt that I will have to tout.  If to actually hook up, there must be an agreement to firstly sup.  While told of love from above and below, the series of time helps me tow the queries of the rhyme.  Will her and I share the thought?  Will I have proved that a heart cannot be bought?  What ought be the result of the life that I live?  Is it that this sieves a sense of to who and what I shall give?  I know not the plot that is pulled out taut like toffee, and really hoped that Miss Rus would go for coffee.

At some points (mainly back when I used to smoke joints) I thought that I was meant to be with Natalie.  I still have an irrational curiosity if my heart will ever reach escape velocity.  Reciprocity helps remove animosity, as the situation I am in includes the fact of her kin.  (That makes both sense of you and I, though completely different people, yet a similar vie to win).  Now why does it fit together like a puzzle?  Though I do grunt and growl, I’m (cliché) about as dangerous as a kitten in a towel.

So many times it’s been like I’ve thrown in a scowl that seems to creep behind my face.  A memory of the trace from space.  As far as I’m aware, there is no guarantee of me being with her, and by the time world finds the winds of sacred kinds, I’ll have found the one to have my son’s cure within the winds.

There are so many dreams held.  A meld of the fact is that for her, my heart has not lacked.  While the text has stacked the deck, I must note my necks almost in a noose, because of trying to conduce a prayer in a layer of text while having no clue what’s next for a recluse.

The sects of this town are in check with the forces on all sides of the middle.  Although when I rhyme it may seem like a riddle, it’s just another way to piddle a puddle of thought that is brought from another mind through that that has helped me be taught.

While I’m not to be signed (as far as I’m aware) there are even songs on the radio that seem to speak and guide this flow from the waves of the air.  And though Dave’s to know the facts of who my wife will be, I still shall see and share (and be fair) without a glare, hate, or a stare of animosity.

There are so many and so few that know the cue to view the corona of her eye.  We still till the soil and tend a friend that shall have no need to pretend.  Although to tend the lovestone sitch, this winds up a pitch to stitch together a series of where I was because of the cause and effect.  The fuzz helps guide the tonect through our intellect, yet you, Bill, might help select the correct state of what is, and will be, between my lovestone and me.  Held with words written by my key a prayer to condone that blasted ol’ telepathy.

It courses through one who reads a page from the sea, another who’s music isn’t really made for free, and another who’s a wife to be.  We live, love, learn and thrive, as I drive home to roam about the thought of that that’s not yet known.  The set’s tone guided by the nets that hone and mould the debts of gold, as I’ll hold my pet… just not hers as far as I know yet.

 

And the world blurred… A twist of another lovestone drawing mana in ways that seem to call for the end of days.  I was reminded today that I am neither hardcore or street, and that forces of such are still held strongly in this community.  Another part of the definitions is loverock… a solid man who doesn’t fight.  Though I cannot claim to be solid, between linking Bill’s page to this book, to the beginning of this paragraph, there was a twist of a gal and a near altercation.  To the other shoulsmen, watch out for the sapphires…

 

While the sun is staring across space, there too is the chase along the shoreline.  Who is to aid and design the facts that incline perspective?  A sieve catches the patches of thought while the files are created, yet not yet bought.  I ought to resume as I presume a situation made from notations with a passing grade.  The design to shine on the star and mix in the Grover near/far.  Although I’ve not got my car, there is a knot from the bar that seems to deem the dream’s melancholy, as a volley to how sometimes rhyme is so often the reason.

The fizz in the summer season found to soften a drink to ground.  Then too the Bastions link to sound and renew the situation.  Chad got a new job at an RV station, and dark confidants were held within this consecration.  Told that both my grandpa’s names were Bob, I strive to reach that point.  40+ years without smoking a bowl or joint.  Though some have toked at my place, there too is the fact that some have lacked the correction of direction, and note the subtle inflection and reflection of sub-sonic bass.

A connotation of what this page is to do mixes back to you and your trade, and the things that cue what Kyle Pede will have made.  They too shall own a home and share the ideas that roam from the sum of the whole.  We also know you play Esper control and help me understand how the codes are planned as a land of black and blue.  The underground to renew the cue to speak.  Donald James too to be a humble, positive, bold, and meek.

We know they don’t so often speak, and there too is the *foil* mana leak that shall prevent the spell from being cast on teak.  Last night’s dreams were wild and crazy like I missed my meds, though the breads chewed upon like the rhyme.  It seems that some people steal thoughts with a trough of this through Sublime.  The gin and lime from Shiloh as they climb back into track with the grime and the slime.

Told that green eggs are lined in the convolution of retribution, the distribution of the particles of clay to bring the page back into how we pray.  What about Hope and her sister?!  A game to assist ‘er well enough from McGruff and the stuff that the elves started to bluff.  Dangerous like Keebler, while the weeble’s fur is to pure the cosmos with a verbose layer of text.  True this may not speak context very well, yet the next contents of the Shell too does dwell within earth, and not heaven or hell.

The unleven bread as well is shared with the wine while some start to creep into the line.  The sign that the idea to design black, green, and white shall share that the pod and God are held within the contialitic rite.  I too think of Rene and how this links to another sprite.

I looked through the cards as they were there because of a reason why.  I also think of Tyler and Kristine when they both were a Wry.  There too is the scene, and how a high is from the mana that’s life and nature, the green.  No intellect and deceit from the blue within the suite, as there are so many other pages not yet started let alone charted as complete.

With the myth of the land in the duel with the fuel from a ruby, we shall find the carried lines and the duty of the mix.  Clicks of the keyboard swung about the grout to share a sprout, as there too are the facts of her and how I have a major amount of doubt.  Spouted and pouted and amount the Id to PLU8R.

I know not of her thought, and it’s clear I don’t know her.  She is a lovestone whose tone of shoul is care, and though pure, I know that the lyrics said will ever find me to have more to infer.  The puppy love of the past and how the kittens are soft and like to purr.

The node of the code holds an ode of misinterpretation.  I’m surprised quite a lot even that I made the proper spelling in notation.  Believing in and exhalation and the clouds of smoke I breathe too shall find that some beliefs are things that others also may seethe.  I retrieve some things that others can barely comprehend, yet still there are others too that KNOW wings that I have yet to share and send.

Tend the soils of Atlantis with her cinematic kiss, as I think I’ll go have a ciggie after I’m done with the writing of this.  Tapes line a mage, and prophet signs share inclination of how to close the stage.  I still don’t correlate the full intent within the designs of lines that are devoted to the page.

 

There are some people that I have focused on too much.  I have put multiple pages to them, made recordings to and for some, and also have messaged a bit too often.  The Magic links are crucial to the meld, and though I am not one to carry around cards so often, the ideas are mixed in.  The notions of how some games are played also revert to the ideas that are used in cliché sayings.  Some may believe that the deck is stacked, though Magic players know that the results of a match are also linked to what cards you keep in the deck.

 

I ask that we may flask up a smile from our lovestones.  The tones of the sounds I was hearing were clearing from Brooklyn, and while I used to want to spin records, I note that it was a dream I had to release.  I too note that there are many links to my family, though I started with my niece.  Peace, love, unity, and respect are a baseline for me and how I want God to design and inflect life with assistance from me when we connect.

The facts of the tracts of time and place shall show the rhyme trace the dream into how I want to be with the tribe, and not a team.  I don’t play sports, yet the shorts seen are to glean a place where they cannot quite trace the thought.  With the knots of space, I too am thankful for God’s grace.

The pace of life is sometimes even like it’s frozen (Let it go!) while exposing the contialitic film of our mind.  I hope too that the human spirit will blend with God combined.  I find some things like rings on some people’s hands, and though the sands are to hold the mould of gold and the sapphire, the wire shall dwell too in how I’m glad you’ve got Anna and will retire.

The rites that I wish for are far across the ocean on a different shore.  I note that today they told us of how Jesus already won the war.  If that’s the case, why must I chase some things and energies away from trying to make me play the ways I don’t want?  I too note that I may flaunt my rhymes in the spin of how we’re all in the mix with some sort of what it is to lose or win.

I thank you too for taking the time to read.  These pages are the best way for me to till good seed.  I can’t think prayer very well, and though I too know not how to save some from hell, I will keep working and make sure I’m not lurking for the cow that refuses to tell.

Some people (like Kevin) will play WOW or other vids.  Some others too will cherish and honour and nourish their kids.  Some will learn to think first, and learn where other people come from.  Some too will view people in the eyes instead of being depraved like a creep.  The truth may keep youth dredged up to reap, yet I have also pledged covertly to be heavenly and truth here on the planet earth for many more decades before eternal sleep.

We know there is far more worth in some than merely where I come from.  We too know that some (like I) can’t say or show true love to some.  Others too know that it may take a while to share where we come from, though a point of PLU8R is you also met her.  I too want to understand how some things like rings are to correctly stand up and respect the other animals too.  The facts of the underground have bound a Course of Fate to how I am more like a channel than one to fully create links with a gate to view.

The United States passport must be owned to play, yet there might be a way to partake in a game where some people may attempt to fake me out of aim.  I can’t quite make the sprout grow, though claim the seed has been planted.  I too note that the slanted desire, and intent, will circumvent much of my will and meld what God wants to instead cement.

And their air will deem a vent to dream a whispered gleam of thought.  I too know not the full plan and ought to convey that I will thrive, if allowed to, or not, to play.  Anyhow… for now I will keep striving to improve and move the cursor across the screen.  Please keep pressing on and believing and building, and I’ll keep guilding The Contialis into this retribution of divine involution.

I am involved in the distribution of the Spirit when some choose to (or don’t) hear it.  My greatest asset is letting those setting their life on earth know that they too hold and can share and earn worth far beyond the understandings of our own shared and focal note.

Though I may be viewed as a goat, whatever boat I crawl in or out of, there will always be the fact that I too shall impact with care, compassion, honesty, some tact, and love.

I cannot retract, though too am in the bonds of Christ, even if my genes and my intents have not yet correctly been melded, formed, or spliced.  Allow yourself the knowledge of the pledges made, as this will allow the Spirit to shine, not fade.

To Jared of Chilliwack Victory Church

 

A tentative edge of what to pledge.  Though much has gone on that I am fully unaware of, PLU8R shall help us each.  I am not one to preach so often, and it is the case that I also wish others grace.  Though I don’t know how to make up for the mistakes that I have made, I will keep my own heart and intent in line with helping others be understood and able to thrive also.  We are all on the same planet, and much love and support is needed, and has (and will) be given.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 10

Hold the Node

There was the idea to call this chapter ‘Overtly Shown’, though it’s the case that there is much subvert and unknown.  Lots of the time the pages twist out and away from the person that they’re being written to.  It’s partly since we’re all twisted up in this.  There are many more than a few that have woven their minds into the pages, yet the work I’ve formed has been channeled through my own being.  There is the case that there are many that have not only let me do what I do, yet actually support and lift me up and encourage me to thrive instead!  There are some who also let us learn where many others come from.

 

Hi Mrs. Nevokshonoff!!  Thanks for the link to Margret Lima!  I’ve not heard from her yet, though note it’s also a time where few are at the schools.  The pools of thought are here at the Starbucks, and while some make jokes about the ducks, some too note that they’re sitting in a different boat.  This page I wrote for you to thank you for helping.

I also want to help you, and not quite entirely certain what it is that I may do.  I will keep writing and seeding pages and music, as that is what I want to do to support and earn with my life.  Sales of my music up to now are almost like a myth, yet I shall persevere.

While here on earth, I will keep developing, generating, and earning worth without a sly smirk of mirth.  I too note that I’ll have wrote a great deal more to people than I have up to now.  There is the joke about the two cows in the field, and how no bull was needed for the pregnancy seeded.  I have welded and weeded out parts of my starts, though my heart’s still a bit well worn.

I want to help warn people of avoiding some of the same mistakes I have made.  I too want to go back to school, and not knowing yet how that’ll have played out until I start to nourish the sprout.  I’m out and about today when I should perchance be finding another basic J.O.B..  I’m not totally on about that though, as I chose to write some more for people that I know, and help tow along the raft of my craft.

Many have laughed at the idea of me and what I do, and that’s okay too.  Some people may ridicule and mock, yet I am the one who will keep true and held on the path that I alone must walk.  I know it’ll take a lot of love and support, yet that is part of my purport.  I note a sort of peace guides me, and when I prayed to God about Shell, the intuition and voice told me I should leave as well.

I note that I’ve had a few jobs and have not stayed long, yet I also note I’m still at ‘er with the writing with an urge to create becoming ever more strong!  The floor to find a clever Score and the links that you know not of.  Thank you too for staying with John and showing/having love.  I like how you two have stayed and relayed on to the world that your hearts are still intertwined and inwardly curled.

What shall have unfurled a year from now may help show that I was in the correct field with the plough.  For the immediate today, I’m not certain what I should be doing, and note, that I’m terrified of working a job where I’ll hate and wish others to be smote.  It was not good at the ‘S’ hell.  Not a good place for me.  (Think of those letters and how it shows the shoulsmen are some from the red hooded sweaters).

Although I can breathe, I still seethe lucidly about how the dream is in action.  My resignation/dismissal cannot be formed with retraction, yet that must be okay.  I do end this page with something to pray, though in a variant secular way with your awareness to help relay…

Dear Lord God/Jesus, let us find ourselves to be kind.  Wind within our being the ability to be free of seeing our points of lack or weakness as lined.  Let us instead shine and find the light of all the stars might to keep us on the right path.  Although some say that life and love is as simple as 1+1 math, I too hope we may bath in light and good and love.  Please keep the forces of above held on guard for us if we ever delve into situations where we could be unsafe.  Moving away from depression or despair so that our fear and sadness need not be there like a chafe.

Thank you for allowing us the ability to seed so much more beyond the mere understanding that You are the key that we turn in our heart, as some things we may wish to end, while others too may now, as a friend, start.  Thank You for allowing the ploughing of the fields to form combined yields as peace, love, unity, and respect that wields the shields of and for you too.  Amen.

To Pat Nevokshonoff

It was October 17th 2016 that I worked on forming this part of this book.  I had gone through some work for Searching for Tomorrow and Built from Within (two other books) and returned back to this one.  Because of the title of this chapter, I also think of the places of where the work is formed.  Bastion Games is a crucial point for me and my social network, though today am able to form some of Key to Me in a session in the back room of that shop.  There are a few pages that I’ve written to Nathan, the owner of the shop, and I want to dredge up one of those as the next point of this book and chapter.

 

My prerogative is to learn, love, live, thrive, create, play, and pray.  It’s true I’m allowed to have ploughed some fields with yields of good seed to relay.  Too true, I’ve teed up some pages that I want to share with some of the mages.  I also note I’m not wanting to be performing on stages, and note that the boat in which I am has found the ground under my feet again.  I clear into the lion’s den with the pen and pad as this Christmas as I get to go see my dad!  He’s one that I love a lot, and though the plot ties the knots of the shots, the dots aren’t quite lined up for me to find and sup with thoughts.

The dream has taken me through so much task and turmoil that the masks I must use are to cover the boiling water of some throwing me into the drink.  Some pages I write are for many more years into the future, and it’s too noted from far in the past, I have had tears screaming fast down my cheek, and though I am glad to speak to some, some others may wonder why I am dumb and say not a word to some of the bird.  The facts of how the tracts of rhyme, and place, shall find my climb from grace to land with a real lovestone hand in hand to trace.

The sand’s squished between the toes, as some dreams are through many years of speaking and thinking flows.  Although inking a deal is not what I am searching for, I still want to sign up to avoid a war.  There are some who may want to break down the door, and there are some who may want to make the wake rock stones across the shore.  There are some who come from a perspective to live, love, and laugh, while I replace the notion with the ability to thrive.  As for some of the other half, what I feel is shared to Teal when the gladness starts to move into a real deal.

My part here in Chilliwack is not fully something I understand.  It may be well that I’m to help people with their lives, though I still wonder why some gals are trying to attract when they already are wives.  The strives I make to be real, and not fake, take us back many years ago into a track we do not know.  The seeds I sow make fields be PLU8R revealed.

Some have hidden and concealed the truth since early in my youth, and though I am not meant for a studio booth, there may be some to fight tooth and nail.  I note I made the sale of my cards to keep at ‘er and note that I am a contialitic shoulsman and one of the modern day bards.  I don’t sing so well, as I seem to hide in my own Introversial shell of Khans and Shards.

I also am not certain in what vocation or what occupation that I will have that will allow The Glass House to gel; to become and be, full well, a place where I am allowed to bring people to let us build, converse, and dwell.

Although I may be a person that causes rifts and divide, there are other things that I do that I hope shall assist others to help me be a supple support, and symbiotic guide.  I let reside many forgotten things that I have allowed by having the clouds part of what the being sings.  We find that there are so many kings that we cannot tear, or free, from our heart, and that I’ve never even yet had the chance for them to begin from a different way to start.

Keep working well, and thank you for letting people be at your shop.  It’s a place for us to mix with others; some that know how to love like brothers.  Although the flows I write may be for my mother’s correlate, I thank you for this of which we also learn to state about what’s on the plate.

To Nathan V

 

The way I use the idea and reference of the word ‘node’ is different than many.  Though the point of reference of our own being, our centers, are one form of node, I also call some places nodes.  This is the case for many places in town in the way that they are central locations where some gather.  I also note that there are some keystones and people that help us with this.  My family is varied and placed in some far away places, though there also are some that are foundational to me.  A patriarchal notion of some being the pillars of their own (and other’s) families, gardens, fields, and tree.

 

Me too… I don’t like what some people do, though shall persevere and press on through.  True we meet with the lyrics and the beat and the feat of how we greet.  I take a seat and repeat the story of Lori and the hospital ward.  So much carries on in the heart (and in the gourd) that (sometimes) makes me nowhere near adored.  That being said, the world will be floored out if I prove the grout, and remember to tell the others also of the sprout.  I am one who thanks, though does not blame, the same one who’s let me trod back to writing a stack of pages to cross back to the Edmonton stages.

Cages hold some back from making an attack.  While I still smoke way too many smokes, I still ask that I get to meet, again, all of my folks.  This December will remember that some seem to think of me that that they wish for themselves.  The Spirit delves when twelve’s either noon or midnight to make a bid of the flight, and share the light with the cross.  To toss out the loss of above and below and mix it right into love that we shall know.

Somehow I still guard and respect some who wish to eject me from earth.  I have been taught that worth is not just money, and it too is noted that having cash helps us thrive and (hopefully) be like good honey.  I’ve been allowed to drive, have food, smoke, and drink.  I also have been allowed a place to think and link.

I am glad Dad’s on this planet.  Though he and I rarely meet, this Australia trip will be so sweet!  We get to meet and give a big hug, and though I don’t mean to bug, it sometimes may seem I’m smug as a pug in a rug.  What I do find, though, is a place to sit and start to knit together our lives with flow, and words, into a coherent sentence (and chip in my pence to the telepathic sense to show).

Some try to jump the fence and hump the tenses of time, though I find senses of thought bump up and be brought up to sup.  We find the pup a new and nice way to slice the DNA.

A splice of our device and the door to what they say, as the ways some amaze come from the days where there is breath, and not meth.  It shall help us wind the one who had the thread wound from Beth to be kind and found standing upon solid ground.

Told so many times that my rhymes are just nattering, they also are scattering through the cosmos.  I shall share some verbose layer of text to help the next year clear.  The tonects of the tar bar find Grover far to near and get them Far and Away to bring love near to the Spirit that lets us pray.

The tanks were seen in China, and while some line a fine teeter totter, the daughter for whom wishes to be found will be like the spoon and the dishes.  Wound the fishes harpoon right back to track, I may lack the correct way to say they splay the dues.  Some use to fuse the clues with the news of dope and booze.  Let others play and choose the link of thought to how then will be now, and without a horse, ox, cow, or a plough, we will somehow still show how now the Tao is also in the spin of a furrowed brow.

With the rocks on the shoreline that seem to think I’ve no spine, I incline to align some to allow their own to hone karma with correct reciprocity.  A connect of porosity to select to not eject a velocity from their own tone or stone.

I am not a king, a queen, a bishop, knight, rook, or pawn.  It may not be known, though grown for the other side of Ron, I am a gem to share with some of them the way the hems too show how I’m not on the board.

Some music pulls a chord out of the rhymes that I’ve already chosen, yet the lands are frozen as a way to say the truth, and take the falsities away.  Even for and from some of the family from the form of what we relay.

The next line wasn’t yet written before it started.  This imparted perspective to let others live, love, and thrive.  I am glad to be alive and thank not just God for letting the baud be without the feel of a rod.  I also ask the land and bod find the notions not trod upon or stolen from other artist’s stand on the potions of the swan in the digital sand.

When I twist the list and share that I have hissed at some notions that some people want, and I don’t, won’t it be nice to splice the reciprocation onto those who do, or don’t, have a price?  We’ll find that those kind shall share that lined to wind up the clock, and find the hands wrap around her hourglass, instead of being solo and as about as inert as a noble gas or chalk.

 

A direct line of sharing how we show that they also know that sometimes we should take the time to be there.  There is the case with some, that we are not allowed or able to share the space with them.  Some others are not connected due to distance, time, or even, like me sometimes, due to self-absorption.  The links of our heart and memory should remember to be there for other people too, and not to get too focused on our own selves or work.  Additionally we also remember that social interaction, friends, and family also are a vital part of our lives, even in the times we may neglect.

When you got this, you were 37 years old.  They say they hold the fears of heaven, yet the fact too is that you will continue to learn and see Hope and Paige turn eleven!  Laugh and love and live too!  I thank you for the card and gift and lift a bit of time, and rhyme, up for you and your daughters as we sup.  One of the potters too knows Emily and Zoey as her kids, and though I’m not making bids on eBay anymore, the fact is that I’ve also not lacked the store.

Another cousin, Graham, has the correct pitch of thoughts that link to the plots.  The story of peace, compassion, and harmony are part of that tattooed on his body.  Although I have no ‘ink’ some links have been inscribed on my heart; the fact to learn, love, live, and create as my start.  Although I’m not a major part in your life, I too am glad you keep memory of me in the future I help key.

Please keep well in the universe.  Some things we cannot reverse, yet the converse in archaic form too keeps the planet warm.  I like to form pages for people and haven’t done so much for my family recently.  I do believe that faith and acceptance are part of the Key to Me.

The life that I live is one in which I intend to give to many.  The links of the past too recall ideas of building community on another planet.  I also think of our babysitter Janet while the plans fit well on the opposite side of Shell.  It was my job at shall that too seemed to be an extension of hell.  Then again, this page is for you and should not me dredging up all of the thoughts from the well.

Happy Birthday Julianna!!!

I’m not sure how I can help you and your family, yet too wish that if there is a way you will relay the ‘how’ onto me.  Now, the signs of the tree show that there are many pots in which to grow.  Many gardens too, and regarding the fields, something else I’m to know.

I wish you thrive!  Not just live, though THRIVE!!

It’s true we lived next door until we were five, and I remember EXPO 88 too.  I was sad that I couldn’t interact more with the Haave/Wry crew, yet the facts from later show me too that I made my choice too to go to SFU.  Instead of staying in Edmonton, adventure called me askew and I went on my solitary path.

The quarry of the math find that I have no exact idea how life is for you; what it’s like for your two, or how tough it is to allow yourself to also persevere and remain true.  You’ve made it through many years, fears, and tears, and also note that you do have your own precious dears.  I pray you may find your situation clears, as it gets to reach the variation and shift from stressful, to calm, with a deep consecration from the psalm.

While I’m here on earth I wish to bring and develop, share, and create worth for many more than a few.  You too have a protocol to help, and I was really surprised with the wish that I learn this next year.  I shall!  While we live our separate lives, I note that the strives to improve and develop are part of the ideas that envelop our situations.  With notations made while the sunset is to fade, I wade in the moment of now with the heart and soul dragging the plough.

The swans shall fly across the reasons of why as the seasons apply lessons that we learn, even with concern.  By turning in late by staying up to create, I woke up to find the correct correlate as a way to plate the day into the views of what we say and state.

Live forever and day!  With the chance to lay down and relax, take some time to yourself too.  Instead of tracks getting all wrapped up in the things we do, and want (or won’t want) to do, it’s important to form time for you and yourself to renew.

So with these last two lines I recall the signs of the field and ask you to continue to wield our lives into the future revealed.  I ask too that we learn, love, live, thrive and create without needing our minds or hearts concealed from our mate.

To Julianna (Sourced from May 2015)

 

I was kindly reminded of my own allegiances, and that I am absolutely not the one in control.  I am a child who wishes for life to be good, and true, for many more than a few.  I also commit to work and keep at the creative projects.  I have, though, neglected to have full honour and respect for some.  I note that the world in which we live does have many others that also work for God and the forces of heaven here on earth.  I have a twinge and fear of understanding, preaching, and sharing my own spiritual understanding, though I will find a way of sharing on this planet without being too pushy.  I hope others may help me with this also.

Mr Gale!!!   The sale of my soul from God, to those who nod the notion to find the oceans crossed with pure devotion!  Not crossed out, yet rather traveled, the yarn is raveled up to sup with a cup of good drink.  Link the knot that was tied to this September’s plan and plot.

We remember well the turtle speeding through hell, though note that wrote of the goat is not in reference to the Devil.  It’s rather Puffy to mix it in, and turn it up another level!  Xp

The bass and treble note the floating of a point of mana.  You know some Magic references go back to Chilliwack, yet maybe not of how the adjusted spells are on the stack.  The cards are part of what helps the codes fuse the crews.  I also don’t know if I told you the joke about accepting hi-fives, and watching out for the low twos!

I’m glad today that some stayed away, and let me relay from myself without goading me placed up on the shelf.  The ideas spaced that laced some more in the third book to come from a good look.  I plough this page for you, even if the reception will shift my own instamention.

The senses of the meld will also let you have held Halo in your arms.  The charms that tattle on the kitten will rattle the cage of this page’s written.  The wages till that made by some, yet we’re also wondering (sometimes) about the omission and where it will let us come from.  I liked your post about how to handle people of all sorts… love them.  The Great Commission you know from a preachers point of view, as the breaches of my spirit seem to force me to unravel for some many few.  Thank you for letting me do what I do, as our lives travel through space.

PLU8R to trace the globe too, though I’ve only got up to the first three ‘R’s of eight.  We will find the glee to correlate how the Reciprocity keeps the velocity of the dreams we create.  It’s like a glacial structure to aid the ream.  The teams of horses also call for Lucas’ forces, and reminds me how the Morse’s music will take off.  The trough still played, even after more than a decade.  The other hope I wish to have to you relayed is that I know I can’t do it on my own.  It’s often God who chooses if the words and lyrics are belayed to those that condone what we’ve prayed.

So while the dirt’s been moved, and the garden planted, the ideas have slanted how we’ve proved the proofs are kind.  To rewind the sitch, back to how it’s about that one creative gal who’s like a switch, the device in my heart that was relayed more than a decade ago, even if I let her go.

I’m not chasing her like I had even a year or so before the other part of my heart was ‘Torn’.  It left me with a myth that seems to warn the real gals to keep away from me and the Starlit Morn.  Dreams which result having three others born, even if it’s the others that seem to remind me that it’s like my mind’s a thorn.

Anyhow… the seed’s need now heeds the intuition.  The condition to use Magic codes and reference in a mission that challenges me to fuse English cues without omission.  I chip in my wish without having others left sitting on the fence about the Itchy Fish.

What you wish on me, on thee in three, so please let it be PLU8R, especially the peace, love, and unity.  The R’s?  Those are for the stars that set the net of the pet that let me abet and pay my earthly, worldly, and spiritual debt.

Though this page is not yet done, the web has spun the silk into Tylk of the Gould.  How the Stargate reference swirled into the quilt.  The tilt of the pyramids were built, and as the years continue, dissolve to silt.  We revolve around idea that it’s a wealthy family and society working together to build from the labor of love.  The people out and above our future, as a pasture of our world, also know it’s made without abuse of shared connection and construction unfurled.

One last bit on this page… I note I gave your family (partly) the labels/nodes of Magic cards… a reference to how the casting of the spells is held in your control.  The four of your home group as having the quality of shoulic guards.  These artifacts and shards include a sapphire, which may be how I meld a bit with the crew of us.  To spin the truss and pull  one more point of mana, without invoking the fire or throwing another under the bus.

Keep well, and thanks for the love and support!  I purport that it will not be lies and deceit and ruse, yet rather that we as people do use that we own as our own version of supports as our dues yet shown.

To John Gale

 

John Gale and Mrs. Nevokshonoff are two key elders that I am glad to know.  They have cared for me very well, and incline me to grow up and be a supportive pillar in the lives of many others.  They are mentors, and people that I like, because of their attitudes and kindness.  When you find kind, compassionate, and loving supports, honour them, and be sure to let them know that they are appreciated.  Even if some of our dearest supports and supporters are not in our day to day lives, please ensure you remember these people and love and care for them too.

 

Foxy Hoxie, let’s get this page moxie!!  They locked me up many years ago, though even before that point I used to flow.  A trip to go to camp while the barista’s check the tamp, as it’s like walking through a bayou with a bright kerosene lamp.  The teen to hold it down like a clamp and hop onto a trampoline as you at once were to glean.

The memory not seen, though in between the night and day is a place to experience (and a place within which to play!)  Some hope, some pray, some just get in the way.  Some blare trumpets of truth, some are explicit examples of youth, and some mix it all in with clay amplifiers from the studio booth!  I write pages of rhyme as a way to share between people, while the pair hook up well and find themselves under a steeple.  Get real love to the wheel while some conceal what they feel, and it should be no surprise that some shoulsmen will help us reveal the real.

A bell to ring at the top of the climb, and why is it the case that this whole page must rhyme?!  Trust in time for some, yet maybe not many.  The key thought of the dime, or throwing in another penny, share a brother like Lenny to Holly (colour volley) to the ollie on the board.  Some are granted salvation even if for it they need not have it implored.

Floored out, and not in, check the facts of the spin.  Today I might walk the path that goes around the neighbor’s kin.  Doors to the pin.  Smokes in a pouch or tin.  I also wonder too of what addictions you yourself have been in.  I’m not quite sure why I keep staying up late, other than a way to help life and use the time to create.

Winks was in the room as the flowers bloom, as showers or towers of the craft too shall resume with the text.  The next to the pieces of the puzzle.  I’m about as dangerous as a shar-pei with no teeth in a muzzle!  The cat’s licking plastic and it’s getting on my nerves.  A swift snuggle and a chat is what he really deserves.  Though cats will be cats (as hats off to the Pats) as a bit from a home where there will be some to track the stats.

The facts must be true if painted in the colour of blue.  While the hardwood’s to be set and finished for you, by Randy and the crew of the other R’s in a canoe, we note the ankle must heal for one of your stars out of view.  Bars in cars are not places I can go to, though we flow through knowing some of what is true as a clue about the grout.  What I call a slank, Tim calls a sprout.

While out and about, the spout that brings forth the water is the second rhyme in the page.  I mention your daughter, yet there is an angel burning sage from an easel.  The green find another weasel named Wolverine, though I also wonder of your youth and what you considered to be your scene.  In between each line is a direct shift in belief, of what the right page is saying is to be the sign on the leaf.

The loverocks and stones surround like a moat.  I don’t think you’ve heard the joke about Sergio and the goat!  Stop, clear your throat!  Check out this page I wrote!  It’s for you, Ruth, to find a sleuth to have dropped a certain clue; that your initials are like a cheerleader, even if only half of words in two.

Thanks for reading this page as it’s now within the mind, that some people have difficulty being compassionate, let alone kind and creatively inclined.

To Ruth Hoxie

 

And while the tiles of Bonnie and Luther’s home is an inspiration, we scan the constellation with correct representation.  Though we may think of each of us as singular people, we all network and bridge together.  It also should be wondered about the idea that each of our worlds are vastly different, yet all held on the same planet.  Some theorize about life outside of earth’s atmosphere, though I’m not clear on that either.

Breath in… breathe out…  Some say words mean nothing.  I don’t agree.  It’s a strange and wonderful world in which we live, though remember that there ARE many connections that we’re not aware of, even within our own selves.

 

The birds bring news of the crews and how my dues are played in the heart of spade.  Though I wade in the sound of music to compound and find the clicks of the keys, pages like these find the stages of MCs.  I’m not one, yet stand upon the edge of the world as a trinal son.  I land from dawn into how there are so many things that go on that I’m totally unaware of.

The pair of dove have found the ground to be far away as they stay in the sky and find a kind way to fly to the corona of your eye.  While I cannot (and would not want to) take some things away, the memories of Delay too find that it was Shorty to relay.  While the files heard have not cured mine well enough, some stuff is true to meld twenty-one sides to the fifty guides of Puff.

I can’t clear the airwaves of the road that saves… the way Dave’s joints are also part of this earthly crew and imparts this idea to you.  The heart wears through the sleeve while I cannot claim to aim for what we believe, I weave the jet into that settling of an autumn to receive the net.

Although they know much more about me than I, I still shall bring the wings of above and below into the flow that helps tow along the mix of the song when staffed at six.  It’s too true that there are so many and few that are, let alone seem, to be family with the colour’s hue.

I am a glad child who seems to not have grown up.  When that known of the pup too finds that the smile’s preset rhymes, climb down into the worth of denial to compile the fence of tracks that sup.

I seethe within my earthly body in some ways that would amaze, though could they only find the field to graze, they’d realize the maze is what pays for the phase of the days.  There sometimes is a lot of free time to communicate about how there may, or may not, be another way to state the correct perception of some things I shouldn’t mention.

Thank you for visiting the zone in which I work with instamention.  I too want to lurk in the sharing of soul and find that my goals too may include the entire crews that help us fuse.  Who we are… what we do… the things we love… the things rings speak true.

Please continue with your life as I wish good/great blessings for you and your wife.  Sometimes I may share things that I should not, yet the Spirit woven in the thought too shall allow the plough to dig deep and hopefully help earn my earthly keep.

The heavens too must reap that the facts of pacts given, as they too shall help aid and assist my Shivan to not need to help me keep livin’ here alive and well.  From Rob, that kid who worked at the Shell, you help us understand that my work is what shall earn the future homes in which a few many more shall dwell.

 

 

 

Chapter 11

Barista’s Assistance

Of both space and time.  I mentioned early in the book that I had written for a few Starbucks baristas, and though quite a few I wrote for moved on from their jobs, the pages are still about.  The Starbucks is a place of multiple nodes.  I find now-a-days that my workplace is more often at home, though there were a few years where I could almost only form pages and write while at their shops.  I was told by a store manager to contain my creative works and sharing, to not share my works with the staff, and/or also the customers.  For the last chapter of this book, some of what was written for some local Starbucks baristas is included.  This baristas letting me loiter in their shop has helped my creative process exceptionally.

 

Mentally there is this in The Contialis’ mix.  A preset jet to node six more pet, and to show yet the flow that the point’s consumed.  They have allowed that what we’ve presumed is the case that shall let and set the baseline on how we hone the pace resumed at this place.

Space between the keen share.  A bean from the hopper to beware.  While told y’all top ‘er up to make the drinks in a paper cup, the caper of a pup is in a twist of random to assist the gist!  Share the air cloaking a bit of what’s heard from a bird smoking the third where we sit.  The kitten cat to find the written chat without biting another’s DAT, as we continue knitting the patch to the PLU8R that latches and shows the Grounded Eagle hatch of flows.

Another batch of CDs will be ordered, yet not in numeric form.  I’m a bit clerical to swarm the thoughts of how the plan skips the dots.  Spot’s the mascot for 7-Up, and a bit of an ol’ pup’s truth’s spoken from many years ago in their youth.  Though you too have heard some of what they recorded in the studio, a sleuth to wear the tooth as they link the mind to a yo-yo to let you know too.

You too probably note when people go to the drinks with highest prices.  Slices of food under the glass shield are bought when a vanilla caramel cappuccino is revealed.  The aromas ought to convey, in a stereotypical way, of how the words from night and day find the correct series to relay.

Thank you for always being kind to me!  Today I am a bit concerned about Shayna G as sometimes she seems more happy than the day I wrote this page for thee.  I’ll probably write another to her, and hope she thrives beyond PLU8R towards a version of our minds excursion.  We’re ones that shall assist and intuit the Introversial introversion.  There is no conduit of final conversion from conclusion of the illusion.  Some festered in my brain, and the trinal distribution is in the preclusion they choose to jest how we do and don’t abstain.

I love the feel of warm rain at sunset and I too miss having my pets to snuggle in my nest.  The facts now have it sunny and make a joke about a muggle blessed, yet right into the meld of how she’s held onto her own belief.  Instead we have stressed that it’s not just me in my life, yet rather bits integrated like a byte of an intergalactic coral reef.

Floral, and a leaf to puff, we find not a quarrel to seem the dreams.  The rhymes in reams are quite enough.  She makes the bed and takes no med, yet still to set and show she’s sitched quite well in her stead.  Some stuff has also said that the other ideas linger within heart that is like a stolen carousel.  While hermit crabs are neat and can find homes in many things other than a shell, I too find this will not clown about her gown or kiss and tell.  We shall find the pings counted on our phone rings or blings.

The wings wrap around the tear she shed.  She doesn’t know yet how I was in the tub and bled.  She doesn’t know of how I heard her voice and thought she was in my bed.  She doesn’t know a thing about me according to that I’ve already said.  It too is true I may not meet her in my life, even if I’m eighty years old when I’m finally dead.  Frankly put, I love my wife, even if I cannot yet know who she is.  What’s said about us being wed will till the points of infinity, and shall not let us or the ideas be misled.

Thankfully a gem tactically placed in soot may put the heart of them as put not to the plot of my lovestone’s thought crew.  I’m okay with that too, and for the most part we’ve brought the jet to abet.  I’m alone, not lonely and I would like her to continue to get to know me like a pet.

The air is to get warm with the wind showing form, as another gal has gone away to land above Norm.  Yet still to hone and be glad to have known the swan shall converse another day.  These pages are written as a way to learn and explore, as there is concern about how much I say, smoke, and do, with the cigarettes that burn every day behind my apartment’s door.

We narrow down the days as a way to think, play, and pray.  Please keep the attitude you have until you’re old and grey.  The lava cools degrees… the molten earth, stone, and metal that remembers holding keys of what was said today.

Be true, play safe.  Live love, don’t chafe.  The facts of some who speak of this may mention things that strafe.  Create your future bright and know you hold the key… 6, 5, 4, 2, 1, 3.

 

Keystyles, the documents where most of this book is sourced, are sometimes used as lyrics for recordings.  Jenn J, the previous manager of The Catacombs (the Starbucks near the malls) is one that I’ve made two or three recordings for from some of her pages.  I value Jenn for giving me guidance to behaviours and activities that are NOT okay and for letting me know some boundaries.  There have been points of transgression, and it’s also noted that as I become aware of some errors, I shift my actions.  The Starbucks’ are places where I am glad to create.  I shall honour the shops, their employees, and their customers.  I’m still learning.

 

Brought from one Starbucks, to the one in the malls!  The calls been made to form this page while they’ve paid for their warm drink to link the stage.  As the references made are like a lyrical fix, the drinks cliques of the mix of the keys form the freeze of the cold.  While the shown tone parameters hone in on the mould of your zone, they condone known things and the mention of rings.  Hold kind that lined with the rings that find a bold heart that yearns and sings to love, and not tear apart the Spirit or a dove.  This brings the kings from above.

Under the melancholy volley through the holly on the lawn, the series unfolds during the night before dawn.  The fawn grazes well in the backyard of a cousin, while the facts of the fiction amount clear to a dozen.  Fuzzin’ the node with consequence of my action, taking in thoughts of a divisional faction.  Forming attraction of the life that we want to live, we also allow the correct id and ego to be what I more often shall give.

Live well and share the airwaves of the place where you work, as in the keys of the keyboard are to help the ideas not need to lurk.  The murky waters of potters form the clay as the texts that I use do help us convey.  The sounds of another laughing were staffing up the shop.  You know that my music isn’t rap or hip-hop, yet top up the cup with the selected brew by your crew.  A way to say that Cottonwood’s a place to play and do what we do.

Through the course of mp3s to ease the breeze of trees, a mix of chicks clicks Bics that help affix a whelp to grow up old and become a Shivan too.  The courses and sources help fix forces to renew the visions of crew.  We learn, teach, and reach the horse’s view as up to sup at the trough even not with another plus you.  With a cough heard when keyed, the irony of the zodiac is what’s freed from the seed I heed.

Into The Contialis with a real true miss, it’s told too that Tab was hooked up well with Chris.  No gal for me yet, and I too note the bunnies are in likeness as a pet or debt to clear the net.  From the near-point to razz the focal joint, some think the ink of the rhyme’s jazz as a way to help us anoint.

You may not have heard any of the music I’ve recorded, though it’s true that it’s easily afforded.  The accord of an adoration of Id find the vocation of the signs that line up to the bid.  I have hoarded away pages as the questions shall be answered by the series made.  Some wade in earned wages, yet the stages hold some more positive and bold than just my creative fold.

A kiss from class on the road to the node of the lass where I wrote this ode to pass.  A sequence to load together the codal glass notions that are from shared mental potions.  While not ‘woahed’ when flowed, or even on overload, the codes receiving the space shall place another node.  From pacts in the bass, a cosmological structure of the drums’ trace are to set the juncture of pace written for you at Strums.

With Patricia’s page, a mage at Starbucks hums too often.  I have told some lyrics hold the fold like Bounce dryer sheets to soften the Tide.  We guide the cosmos with a verbose layer on the beats, as a mix of the fix of the blix that the thoughtstreams carry to how six seven ate.  Bose speakers parry for Rick’s transmissions and omissions to create missions of PLU8R, yet the facts do include that you have your own sir.

When the pen’s ink is to think the link to the brink of the sink, too many dishes find the wishes on the facts of fiction that we drink.  It’s true, too often, too that I don’t know how to act.  Refract your soul’s decision and find correct forms of vision.  They packed the bowls that I write, and are creation that cause division between the left and right.  I shall clarify my intent, to let the truth be what’s sent, instead of having other people use my mind like a vent.

Repentance in a sentence as a penance of soul.  I live here on earth in the north, though don’t fully understand my role.  I’m glad you’re hooked up and set a good path, as a poetic addiction is how I sometimes can’t math.  PLU8R 2 U for this contialitic bath.

 

Some of the past barista’s have been met at other places after their position with Starbucks was completed.  There’s also a very rare few that have been known before they get a job with Starbucks.  That’s the case with two Magic friends, one who was at the Starbucks when I wrote this paragraph initially.  I don’t have a clue about how the words of this book will twist and turn the concern into the lessons we learn.  The webs of silk that wrap the cocoon of making sure it doesn’t come too soon.

 

The song was on, and if you think I meant you, you might be wrong.  I speak of one who’s given this page from just beyond when the son was born from the eastern stage.  From the mountains into the fountains of the sky, I must apply the fact to you have the tact of the crew.  To reach out to you, the staff that hopes you hear Savannah laugh today.

While way into the mix of how the cliques find the store open at six, we spoke just when the day broke into light.  Hear the sound of sight as it might be that although the first name is the same, I’ll adjust the aim to you instead of True.  There are many and few that shall be helped by you today at the coffee bar.  You’ll probably not hear what I write or say, though the star I gave a keystyle to is stranger to rearrange our heart into a certain part.

The curtains start to close on one person’s flows on these pages and turn the stages into the view of so many and so few.  Although we don’t know each other, we do know our mother’s advice is intended to guide at a reasonable price.  My side of the idea is that the net is to abet and let the pet set the debt into the retinal imaging of what I bring to you.  Some blant terms of a secant that squirmed into this text.  Told the miss is to hold onto the next line as the curtains design and mingle at your shop.

Lines up to the top of the cup find the volume as both the amount of drink and/or the loudness to link into the rink with Pink.  Some play a wink into the felt tip in grip where there is air to breathe into the lungs.  While on the first few rungs of the ladder (about how some people compete to be madder than the hatter) the sipping and tripping into the hard drive will find the kind thread to arrive.

Eleven codes to strive to improve.  The move of the words into the birds that fly across the loss of light from the sky.  To share the night with dawn, as told that only one linear flow of time is ever on.  This keystyle, while a file, is to weave into how we receive the somber melancholy volley of a loss to protect the cross.

The doors open up and close with the boss found in the video.  To be blue, just like the node of the true, yet again the youth is seated in the truth.  We both maintain our own as an oath to shift the tone to the booth.  Noting childlike and childish are both known to condone another to wish with dubious certainty.  She’s still not shown how we’ve known the tone that’s flown.

I ask that you may enjoy your day and find the way to be at that cat.  The kitten is in the written while sitting on the chair where the air has too often has been filled with smoke.  That yolk is mine to break like the shackles and cackles of pterodactyls of rhyme.  To climb down from the wall and find it all in the fact; how the impact of each decision helps us keep the vision to stay true to ourselves, and our dreams.

Collisions of silent screams and deafening silence are part of the paradoxes.  Kind foxes find the moxes and the boxes to move.  We find the grooving tracks through Chilliwack’s central and fundamental shoul.  The fact that we’ve lacked knowing who that damn kid is that keeps it popping like those breaking on the floor with full control.

The door to say the seconds of the hour enroll the high power tower to shower forever and a day.  A Dragon Whelp and his given Shivan to never sever and continue to splay the outside tides of thought.  I don’t know the flow you show, though it’s brought the fuzz on a peach.  To teach and reach back into the elective of the sieves of our mind…

We will lace that signed through speech as a breach of how grace will be now be to plough the fields of your dreams with goodness, as some people are all about hoodness.  Read this next bit as though you were the one to sit down and sip.

I am a gem birthed here on earth.  Worth more than a dollar sign, or even merely a lifeline to the divine.  I am glad to have been mad, sad, rad, and had a notion to flask up the potion of a smile into a loss of denial to floss at the pad and not toss like a lad.

This page is only words in a sequence, I can sense there is more behind the view of how then will be now.  Somehow we seem to know that although few grow to share or show a shoulic flow, there is the fact that we shall learn to tend, and sow, a correct reversal of woe.

 

The lifting of the drink up to sip.  A trip to skip the mp3.  Find some let this come from our own.  Though I am only one kid who’s not adulated well, the unity of the spell shall bring forward the ideas that have been dredged from the keys.  Though there is an idea to hold on and wait, the urge to move forward, onwards, is partly what I feel and think to know.  The awareness of this being a long, shared, and only partly started process also twists up my faith.  Some things are left up to the world, and not myself, yet I encase a reminder to remember that we are not the only ones within this world that are held in the other webs spun.

The twists of my word by you, I barely ever know.  The words like seeds row on row are not even known yet by me, yet set to grow.  I know what I want to plan and plant in life, and I also don’t know what seeds I have tilled in the fields already.  Some of the wielding of the keys and text remind me that I am only one person on earth, and that many more than a few have their own wants and intents from that spoken, written, or heard.  Too much focus on one person or idea can tip the scales of balance.

 

While I didn’t ask permission, I set the keys on a mission for fishing out of the grout a page that may help you and others understand what some are about.  Although there are metaphors of the doors that open and close, I’m hoping they propose to you when you find you want to keep growing up old, and grey, and true with them.

A dear consecration of a gem.  Here for a many few, they’re those who have the notion to sip a potion of true love.  While I’m not above reproach, I too want to help people and coach to be good, light, and true, and remember to improve ourselves with the things we do.

I like/love the attitude of some shoulsmen and lovestones who seem to understand the dream of working with a team.  A goal of having pure, loving, and happy souls and a clean internal stream.  Although the coals I walk find others mock me too, there is the fact that we press through, and find that kinds of people that will honour, and respect, and include ourselves too.

Although I’ve beckoned for input into what I write in your work sect, I too must deflect some who seem to think you’ve resisted.  How their intents have me to be twisted into one who’s to have assisted.  Let this be lent to how this intent is the involution of my contribution into being content and finding our solution.

There is the air we breathe in when some seethe a belief about each leaf of our own sin.  We prune the tree’s tone and think correctly with perception of things that we have not yet known to condone and/or mention.  Heeded an intervention will not be needed, the convention’s seeded to have added to the sum of the whole.  With exponential exploration, a being is noted of our world with understanding my own, sometimes, lack of control.

Some may keep others away from what we pray, yet I hope that you’ll gather and find people that will keep your heart, guard your being, and let you be true for you and your crew.  There is a way to play and pray in what I convey, yet still some seem to say and/or believe that some wish to weave the ideas you alone perceive.

The guides of the cosmos weave and surround us all.  It will take a verbose layer of text to help show us each what’s next.  The contexts of the sects that Robert dissects, connects, and redirects will find a desire of building strength of belief.  That holds true for many more than a few… both community and consects through to the violet hue of what we are to do on the reef.

There are so many and so few that know about how the world has each of us curled up within our chest.  While sometimes I’m not the best with rhymes, I shall too help test the dimes and find the chimes that cling and protect the nest in the wind… to soothe the hearts that are pinned up on the wall and remember that I work for God, the king.

I crawl onto the page and find that my shoul is from the stage, even if I’m not an MC.  I note that there are some who wish me to free the Key to Me.  For those who read this book, let the wishes of love and life return with amplification a cradle for your spirit to (maybe) take a second look.

 

The Starbucks is a place of work for people.  Coffee shops are places where some people may work, focus and converse.  Some use their computers and notepads and the shops.  They’re places that remind me of the idea also that some forms of work are not a job, yet still have depth of value and process.

The notions of the potions sipped there have reminded that the barista’s also have tipped up and on about how I should (and should not) be.  The unity of the Shared Node has many layers of what has already happened at the shops, and what has not yet occurred.  This work is heavily flawed, though with other people’s help, it has been refined to the point of it’s completion.  I thank the employees and customers and contacts for allowing the nodes (and this book) to cross.  For some things I shall strive.  For one to win, it doesn’t mean another has to take a loss.

 

From inside to the tide of thought the guide has got.  I created some words that the birds choose to fuse and slice through the ruse.  Should, could, or will we till the seeds without a band’s use, we shall conduce a prayer in a layer of thought that can, and cannot, be bought.

Sought to attain the tears of rain as Nat Jane is part of the story.  I can barely start to chip at the quarry of the situation that is made in this notation.  Symbiotic transportation find the elloquation of the particles of clay that seem to say ‘forever and a day’, yet the smiles with files weave into that that you perceive.

They deem the dream to be worth a team of the globe, to bring under wing the ping on the Sonar where the disco lights strobe.  A near fear or a far tar bar to extend the repertoire, and step up to the link.  I drink and smink the thought brought up to sup with a cup d’leau, yet the flows juxtapose the wise with a creative reprise and prose.

We disguise the rise and fall of breath with a wreath about the grout to sprout the flow.  A spout and the show you help tow along the raft of the craft with those staffed at the shop.  Real rap and hip-hop I cannot create.  I must wait to understand the state and land in fate, not destiny, as the sandy shoreline will explore the design of Key to Me.

Incline the situations of notations made while the sun starts to fade back into the track.  A heart to wade in the drinks and not lack.  We think, through the spin into kin, the trains of the brains that we understand.  Within the rules of Contraband and how I must unhand the reigns, we find the poetic refrains in Jane’s legacy.  She reminded me of how I cannot be you, and you cannot be me, yet still put the ocean to the sea.

Certainly, to hold the bold stare of the pair that were in the lined up series of word, we will need to find more than crumbs for the sparrow.  We narrow the path with one plus one shoulic math.  A contialitic bath to ease the keys into the view of few that we know about.  Grout holds the tile, and the loss of the denial, yet another file weaves the truth they cleave to believe our own youth.

The early birdie to drop in on the ramp, find the tamp, and clamp onto the point made.  You carry on the next web of chain that seems to have relayed that we bind together to help the instrumental feather.  I clear the facts that sometimes I feel guilt about the patchwork quilt that needs me to tilt my vision up.  Instead of getting drawn into a cup, I’ll be the pup who’s to help plumb the sum of my faults; that that halts the train.

I too must maintain this page and book for you.  I cannot comprehend how some plough deep into my own depravity and then find me weep for a dying star.  I will find my way to clear my brain of the mental sludge, tar, and stain.

I still don’t know who many people are, and shall evolve to be more respectful.  The shifting of the situation should dissolve me into understanding the correlation.  I fell into my own notation that’s found too often when alone.  True people should be that we condone, and I still seem to think that some should be shipped off to good water in the trough.  I have often enough seen through the lies and stuff, and will remain hououable from within, and not just from the cuff.

We comprehend the worth of the lifeline to the divine.  We also shall keep away from looking for the sign and balance without appropriate design.  I want to incline myself to live a life to lead, and be led, by example instead of trampling on the laws and boundaries of respect.  Choosing, sometimes, to interject, select, or redirect.

I know I have been out of line many times and connect many rhymes with much more than just than obsessed, stressed, and digressed points of view.  My own developing spine will need keep the sands of sleep in the trine, and help restructure too.

It’s been pressed and stepped out of bounds with MindSound’s, yet, yes, I understand that there are some people who want me to be six feet underground.  Yet for some reason, the seasons change for us… the ones who’re to develop the ideas of strangers on our own mental bus that we will have together found to have unwound.

 

Glossary

This section is a collection of ‘Rob’ words, also partially called Shoulspeak.

Consect – Bluntly defined as a gangsters turf.  Alternatively a consect is reference to the criminal areas and community.

Contialis – A society formed through an involution of all conscious thought.  This can include different layers and expanses… eg.  Earth is a contialis, yet only part of the galactic or universal contialis.

Contialitic – A highly mental and cognitive person, place, or idea that is associated in relation with other nodal points.  A person that is highly contialitic is exceptionally mental and cognitive and often connected to others.

Cos Secant – A lyrical term for when a prerecorded stream of lyrics harmonize at the same time with a shared rhyme.  The stream of audio catching up to form a rhyme at the same time as a spoken flow.

Cos Sign – A lyrical term used for when two streams of linguistic content harmonize to make a rhyme at the same point in time, though not identical words.

Donatello – A Donatello is the primary listener.  Their weapon is the staff which is a code for the ears.  Donatello is the purple banded ninja turtle.

Emerald – A stylish and tactile feeler.  An emerald can also be used to refer to a group of two or three, and can be associated with ‘the turtles’.  And alternate noding of an emerald can be the first person to break from a group of five, leaving the turtles behind.  An emerald is the green mox.

Fibe – A socio-emotional word for true happiness and/or a real/authentic smile.

Fide – A socio-emotional word for a neutral expression (a face of neutrality).

Fleek – A musical term for a quick fluctuation of tone or sound in the higher frequency’s resonance.  The term ‘on fleek’ though is a more recent internet slang for meaning ‘on point’ or perfect.

Flowetics – Flowetics are the style of rhyme uses in this book.  They are streams of consciousness that rhyme.

Glish – Another base term for Shoulspeak words that follow English grammatical structure.

Gripple – A thought ripple from inner to outer.  When a word or thought is thought in mind, and then heard externally from a different audible source.

Instamention – A word stemmed from the combination of the words ‘instant’ and ‘mention’.  With concept of instantaneous or pre-reflexive input, when a thought is heard or incepted moments before one is aware of it.

Introversial – The genre for both Rob’s music, and written work.  Introversial material is stemmed from a partially introverted disposition with a layer of sociological or controversial nature.

“Introversial artists and people are those that may cause discord in life due to the explicit ability to refuse to be something that they not, while overtly displaying and asserting their own truths obsessively and many times over.”

Jet – A tonal, intergalactic, listener.  A jet can also be used to refer to self alone, or a group of four.  A jet is the black mox.

Katana – A cough out loud to stop a thought, or to stop another person from speaking; also called ‘a point of blue’.  A katana is also the code word for mouth in turtle code (the weapon of Leonardo)

KP4 – The Philippine version of PLURR.  The base of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect, plus the additional R of Responsibility.  The Filipino words are kapayapaan, pag-ibig, pagkakaisa, paggalang, and pananagutang.

Laser Shouling – The Shoulspeak term for direct mind to mind (one to one) telepathy.  It may not be as solid or strong as a Vulcan mind meld, though is shared as a one to one shouling, unlike QBlue telepathy which is more puddle thought or group think.

Leonardo – Leonardos are primary speakers.  They are linked as being audio out in line with sapphires from the mox code.  Their voice is coded as a katana, though a cough can signify them also as ‘a point of blue’.

Libe – A socio-emotional word for a pouting expression.

Lide – A socio-emotional word for authentic sadness, usually signified by a tear (a point of blue).

Linear Trine – A lyrical term for when four rhymes are sequenced in a flow of rhymes in perfect cadencial sequence.

Loverock – A solid man (or shoulsman) that does not fight.

Lovestone – A girl (or woman) that is loved.

Mibe – A socio-emotional word for a deep and intense rush of positive emotion and/or gladness.

Mide – A socio-emotional word that is for a denouncement of all things, ideas, and energy.  Signifying ‘My Intellect Denies Everything’.  When one experiences or uses mide as an energetic technique, it’s a resetting back to fide (a neutral energy or expression).

Michelangelo – A Michelangelo (or Mikey) is one who’s outside of the primary three people.  Mikey’s weapon is the nunchucks which is a code for one’s nose or legs.  A Mikey also can be labeled as an audience member.

Mikey shouling – Also can be called ‘a crossing of the nunchucks’.  This is where two people make physical contact with their noses.  An Eskimo kiss.

Mox code – A code stemmed from five of the Power Nine cards from Magic:TheGathering called moxes.  The code uses Wizards of the Coast guidance regarding colour references and can be used to connote personality types.  The mox code also can be used to signify numbers.

Node – A point at which lines or pathways intersect or branch; a central or connecting point.

Noding – When two nodes or ideas cross or join.  Eg. When a group of five is labeled as moxes. Or when two people engage in active dyad forming a sapphire.

Pearl – A soft, natural, and intuitive person.  Also can be used for a highly contialitic person.  A pearl is the white mox.

PLU8R – Derived from the PLUR, a raver credo for Peace, Love, Unity and Respect.  The raver credo though was stemmed from the Peace Love Unity movement from Frankie Bones.  The number/word ‘eight’ used in the shoulic variant form of PLU8R signifies ‘Everything In God’s Hands True’.  The eight also can be used in sharing infinite Respect (by having the number tapped on its side), and also how the form of PLU8R extend many R words; Respect, Responsibility, Representation, Reciprocity, Reciprocation, Recognition, Relevation, Revelation, Rationalization, Reparation, and Restoration.

QBlue Telepathy – Telepathy that is more water (puddle) based or natural telepathy.  It can be considered more passive and general compared to laser shouling, though does connect between individuals also.  There is the layer and notion of groupthink linked to this type of telepathy.

Queek – A musical term that describes a substantial fluttering of bass.  When the bass ‘queeks’, its fluttering and quick variation within the low frequency’s resonance.

Raphael – Raphael’s are leaders and also primary people.  The are visual, and often are held as the third in a group of three when a Leonardo and Donatello is present.

Raphael Shouling – (see Visual Shouling)

Relevation – A Shoulspeak word for thoroughly enjoying something.

Ribe – A socio-emotional word for a physical clenching of fists to purge anger or negativity, though not striking anyone, or anything, with them.

Ruby – A passionate, visual, battling person.  A ruby also can signify a singular person, or a group of three.  A ruby is the red mox.

Sai – The weapon of Raphael and a code name or metaphor for a person’s eyes.

Sapphire – A true, codal, speaker.  Sapphires also can be associated with intellect and deceit.  A sapphire is the blue mox.

Scunge – The word was a random word from The Bubbles Lovestone which was meant to be a dirty word.  Later the word was used as drug slang for mooching marijuana (similar to ‘sminking’ a smoke).

Secant – a lyrical term where either the cadence or tone of a spoken flow matches that on the stereo, though explicitly does not match words syntactically or with rhyme.

Seff – A Shoulspeak verb for checking out a gal. The acronym is Sight Evaluating Full Frontal.

Seffables – A Shoulspeak slang for women’s boobs.

Sess – In Shoulspeak, to sess someone is to look at their eyes.  If both people noded sess each other for an extended duration, it results in a Raphael (visual) shouling to the first degree.

SEW – An acronym for ‘Socio-Emotional Words’.  The SEW are used as four letter words to describe facial expressions and emotion.

Shivan – A Shivan is another word for a father.

Shoul – Something that is formed as a union of two souls or ideas.  Formed as a combination of the words ‘sharing’ and ‘soul’.  Shoul also at one point was the name of a city 10 degrees off the rings of Saturn according to a schizophrenic belief.

Shoulic – An adjective to describe someone who is soulful, yet also connected well in spirit (or mind) with another person.  There is a tranquil connotation to the word.

Shouling – There are different forms of shouls (or shouling) depending on which perceptual mode.  The six shoulings listed below are from Turtle code referencing:

– Raphael (visual) shouling

– Katana (mouth or voice) shouling

– Donatello (audio) shouling

– Mikey (nunchuck) shouling

– Shuriken shouling (claws and paws)

– Laser (Sublime) shouling

Shoulsman – An honourable, honest, true, and sometimes rugged man.

Shoulswim – A shoulswim is when two spirits overlap and can be felt by the other.  When one experiences a facial shoulswim, it’s when they can feel the facial expressions of another person on their own face.  There also are full body shoulswims where one’s entire body feels like it’s melded with another.

Shuriken Shouling – The shuriken are the weapon of Genuine (turtle code) and symbolize the hands.  The engaged activity of ‘claws and paws’ are a form of shuriken shouling where two people’s hands are united with intertwined fingers.  The most basic ‘paw’ of shuriken shouling is a ‘tiger’s paw’ where the hands meet palm to palm with fingers intertwined vertically.

Sine Wave – A lyrical Shoulspeak term for when two lyrical or linguistic streams of audio intersect by using the same exact word, at the same temporal moment.

Slank – To give something for free, without expecting repayment.  The word holds an backronym for Some Love And Nice Karma.  The word was initially used for the free gift of a cigarette.

Smig – A Shoulspeak slang term for cigarette.

Smink – To ask for something, and attain it, with no intent of repayment.  The word was taken from Gloria Doran and her union of words of smoking and drinking.  The word later was formed in Shoulspeak as the act of mooching a cigarette.

Sprite – The sprites are a group of gals that are associated through mox referencing.  There are five total, and are noded as exceptionally dear lovestones.  The initial labeling of sprites was from two gals during the 1998 freight nights before Rob’s hospitalization.

Taiga – A green and red natural dualland from Magic:The Gathering.  A taiga also makes reference to a friend from Kyeta Place, a group home where Rob lived between 2002-2004.

The Contialis – The society formed through an involution of all conscious thought.  The capitalization of the word is used similarly as to a universe or The Universe.

Tonect – A tonal range (of sound).

Trine – A combination of four nodes as one.  A bundling of three ideas or people as being linked with a shared connection.

Turtle Code – The use of labeling and metaphor of primary groups, usually of four or six people.  The original four names are from The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, though two additional turtles (Genuine and Sublime) are in the extended code.  The code includes metaphor or code words for some body parts, and the shouling of the parts are labeled congruently.

Underground Sea – A blue and black natural dualland from Magic:The Gathering.  In the Shoulspeak codes it has alluded to the True Lovestone as an alternate name for her.  An underground sea counts as both a swamp and an island and generates one point of blue, or black mana.

Visual Shouling – There are three layers of visual shouling.  Visual shouling can be called Raphael shouling as (from Turtle Code) the sai=eyes.  (Also noted, Rubies are visual and linked by the colour red).  A first degree visual (Raphael) shouing is where both the people share extended eye contact.  A second degree shouling is to see the same thing (such as a movie screen where the image is identical).  A third degree visual shouling is actually seeing through the eyes of another person.  This has been called second sight by some people.

Withe – A withe is a spiritual infestation of another’s spirit or soul being forced into another.  It’s as if one has been possessed or infused with another’s spiritual energy without permission or want.

Xibe – A socio-emotional word used when something or someone appears ‘alien’ like.

Xide – A socio-emotional word for laughter, though sourced from an undercurrent of sadness.

Zibe – A socio-emotional word for anger.  An aggressive and sometimes vocal expression.

Zide – A socio-emotional word for laughter, though happy laughter from authentic joy.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Rob’s a glad and rad kid on earth.  He understands that life is worth more than he’s yet to comprehend.  He also is learning that it takes many more than a few to help (and allow) him to do what he does.  This journey is shared.  It may not always be easy, though it’s worth moving forward and progressing and continuing the evolving journey of learning how to seed lives.

Robert will continue to write (and record) though knows that it cannot always be about himself.  This world is shared, and his intent is to fortify his own prerogatives with awareness, intent, and action.  Though PLU8R is a guiding credo, the base to live, love, and thrive.

Add the ability to learn, create, play, and pray, and it results on a shoulsman on his Introversial journey.

 

Rob’s music may be found at www.KoyichDigital.Bandcamp.com

Rob’s blog is www.TrueCyberEbb.WordPress.com

For Instagram or Twitter, @RobertKoyich

For Facebook, search for Robert Koyich for his artist page.

Email – RobertKoyich@Shaw.ca

www.KoyichDigital.com

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