I say don’t play nice, fight for what’s right. You’ve always heard the Devil likes to play dice. You never stutter you praise the things that brings us together. You know it makes us tougher so don’t you suffer, my brother. Go further. Don’t you surrender. It’s better to be born anew than to test the force of the offender, so don’t be torn asunder! There’s always another season that comes after summer. It’s never a bummer, you’re born to sunder, venture now towards the next coming summer

A question beyond choice. A choice beyond identity

A long ago in eastern Prussia
Young men with great ambitions rise
So who can tell me who can say for sure
Which one will win the Nobel Prize?

It was a golden age for science
The kaiserreich would hold the key
And as the conflict came and tensions rose
The manifest of the 93

Haber-Bosch, the great alliance
Where’s the contradiction?
Fed the world by ways of science
Sinner or a saint?

Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare
His dark creation has been revealed
Flow over no man’s land, a poisonous nightmare
A deadly mist on the battlefield

“Perversions of ideals of science”
Lost words of alienated wife
And in the trenches of the western front
Unknowing soldiers pay the price

And on the battlefield they’re dying
And on the fields the crops are grown
So who can tell us what is right or wrong
Maths or morality alone?

Haber-Bosch, the great alliance
Where’s the contradiction?
Fed the world by ways of science
Sinner or a saint?

Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare
His dark creation has been revealed
Flow over no man’s land, a poisonous nightmare
A deadly mist on the battlefield

Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare
His dark creation has been revealed
Flow over no man’s land, a poisonous nightmare
A deadly mist on the battlefield

During times when there’s peace he belonged to the world
During times when there’s war he belonged to his place of birth

Where will this lead? What’s coming next from your inventions?
We wonder where, where does it end?
Who can foresee, see what will be?

Haber-Bosch, the great alliance
Where’s the contradiction?
Fed the world by ways of science
Sinner or a saint?

Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare
His dark creation has been revealed
Flow over no man’s land, a poisonous nightmare
A deadly mist on the battlefield

Father of toxic gas and chemical warfare
His dark creation has been revealed
Flow over no man’s land, a poisonous nightmare
A deadly mist on the battlefield

Air waves saves the day, seize the moment and hit play, it’s not a tease, it’s a sign to recognize your size and the size of time. A conflict between duty. order. an impeccable bond.

Oh, Deja Vu the idea makes you move ever which way. Every moment is a flash. A theory of a programmed rich world, yet how can you do you when you could say your world won’t do. All things are conditioned. All chain events. Perpetually moving through your programmed state. Nothing is yours. You’re interdependent. You’re self aware yet pieces come together showing you the way. Your senses, deep in the ruins of duality, a choice, a condition through your immovable state. Recede into the unknown towards an ever changing discovery, so you can be made new, what do you do, you carry the day only to play with fate with faith that you’re making your own self-made way.

Let’s continue

The best oaths are the ones yet spoken. You speak the thought and you can almost say it’s stolen. Some things are better left unsaid. Don’t you dare speak it out loud. There’s one promise that you know and that’s the one you know you can’t keep so when one comes around and you know it’s true keep the idea safe, keep it close. Hold it close. Hold it firm. Things turn the other way when you see the development of this truth mold into the fabric of time, the weaving of space, the realization of fate. Take the leap of faith, do it for your sake, before it’s late, make us proud, I know you can relate

The question about reality is a simulation is an interesting one and I’d say it’s a fancy way of saying we’re all binded by an ever flowing force that permeates our being and only he can see the destiny that lies within us, through and through, and the in-between. Cross the t’s dot the i’s the mastermind tells you you need to stay within the lines yet the great find is you write what you know, and do it as you go. You’re in the pattern you know the pattern yet you follow the pattern not knowing that the pattern is your pattern

Love doesn’t move mountains. Will moves mountains. Love doesn’t conquer all, there is no fight to be done when you see the threshold. Mind over matter? Matter wouldn’t matter if there was no matter to mind the matter

And that, my friends is how you bend what matters, and that matters

Those bullies, Those thugs, where’d they come from, let them move the board, let them move forward, give them all the pieces, they’ll have so much, they’ll lose touch, it’ll become too much, they’ll say I’ve had enough, nope, you’ve cashed the stuff, now reap disgust, for that’s a must, aren’t you tough, selling the lust

Where’s God? I’d ask a centipede. Why don’t you have more legs. You’ll move faster. Maybe because more legs means they’ll take up more room and would be easier to spot by prey 

Is he here? Why can’t birds have more than two wings? Won’t they move faster? Well, according to aerodynamics they could, but they’d weigh more and it would be dead weight

Question. Why don’t lions hunt? They do, but they prefer the shade. 

Are you with us? More wheels, faster car? Sure, just put it in the next arcade

How about, Why do planes fly? Because your aunt moved to L.A. and you’re stuck in New Orleans. 

My phone is running through battery. No problem, You bartered work for the quirk to talk to your husband Sam over the airwaves, through the clouds, over the trees, beneath the sky, between the storm and day, across the seaside, under the night sky, below the sheets, around the door, through the wind. All this time you’ve been here. Only watching, the things that transpire on this hallowed ground

Through life know when to resign. You can’t say never give up but you do know what’s up when you end a well fought struggle and prepare yourself for the next tough scuffle. Don’t lie to yourself. Some battles can never be won. So move to the next one. In the end the important ones you couldn’t win leads you to the next great lesson. You’re prepared for the better next greater fight which turns the way for a far greater blessing a far greater award, the sword that was once a chore

The fight between your mind and your soul can’t be beaten by instigating a counter acting force but when you find the source of your maladies and transform them into opportunities that is when you can say you’ve crossed the threshold you’ve begotten the true mould that is your hopeful core, that which others have told you boldly before

They say… Fear is for the weak, yet with none you grow too bold too uncontrolled. Rather, fear only that you never fear, yes, you’ll come to know you won’t, until then, be weary of the sign that says you never worry, you’ll be sorry, for surely you can’t have always shown bravery. Every toil is met with recoil

You and others live in a hectic society. All about the next high. I want it. I want it. Give me the next thing. Browse through this feed. Browse through that feed. When do you know it ends? When all stories have been told. When each rerun becomes a broken record. When you get to the point you can’t find the next one. But that is hardly met with realism. You’ll know you grow outside of it when you don’t need it anymore. When you slow down. You’ll see. Your mind is on overdrive almost impulsive in the back of your head. It’s a well recognized pressure. But could technology have been a victim. You give the people what they want. You take the thing away or get them to relish the dream, and they want more. So you could say we always crave everything known to us until it becomes numb to the touch. Then look out for the other thing the horizon, a new frontier. Let’s see if technology can take us there. But, the new frontier is bound through sacrifice and you know you can’t run through it without the greatest force, hope. Yet, what sort of hope is planted when your best self your best you is fermented with a greed for more. I’m better. I’m greater. We are enslaved to the avarice that is beheld from our own primordial existence to give attention to who can do the everything the best, only so we have something to fill the undiscerning gap that is the mediocre. We are all explorers only seeking the affirmation that we are better than our previous self, but only we are complete when we’ve done everything. But that itself carries a consequence, what comes next? When the penultimate goal is complete.

Be the change that you know you are. There isn’t anything better than your wit, your charm. You keep dancing to the tune that says be you. Who are you really? You’re a culmination of your events and the decision. Anybody can give you a choice. But is it really? It’s not about the result but to the end in which you solved it. How do you decide to do you? You can’t always make the right choice, but you can always have the right motivation. That motivation and the pursuit thereof is your grail. Nobody can take what you carry everywhere. When people say do you, tell them always. My attitude is everything. Your goal. Your will your speech 

Porn is born. No more pounding on people’s door and asking for more. You can do it behind my closed door. Sell the lust if you must but you’ll only want more. It’s all around you and it cuts you skin deep. Asking for perfection is the question to bequeath. Can we live to love ourselves or is it too much to ask her to turn the other cheek. I’ve settled the matter. I’ve stopped the chatter. You bathe next to dust because the sands of time have become too much. You’ve locked the key. Your inspiration buried beneath six feet deep. Forever grounded by that which has made you dumbfounded. Only to tout the bout for the wish that had never come about. I know nothing greater than that that has made me better and that’s to release the fetters that you the offender can never tender. The voice is clear. I’ve made it past all confounded states. I’m beyond heavens gate. Now you’ll do only the best but perfection can only be met by perfection and the tension for anything less only behest the didactic question, can it be his fiction? Your journey has met a faithless end. Yet tonight you’ll make it right. You’ll dream of a world unknown a realm behind the unforeseen. The endless space that I’ll face, only to be risen and feel bedridden under the next morning sun. Tomorrow will be fun. Come to work only to make a dollars sum. Only to repeat the day for the next born son. All to keep everything you see from being undone. Done