305. Operand.

I knew first to apologize, the only thing that I felt,

was wanting to improve it all somehow. Though I was without the next measure:

Perhaps it was an operand, one for each of cities; towns; stated actors... Perhaps not.

     At least the new science can do better,

Actualizing... The root cause of homeostasis, all inherently unstable. Always and forever, to be perfect wasn't...)<=

([except]   Accept the missing staff, the sign without measure, the 8/7 in time, is this love?):

My confidence in this measure only was 4.545454e.... To have love.

   {             }

I saw in them the same way of recognizing you, as if to say,

climbing the stairs is to the athlete 

         as nuclear energy is to...

You are just as brilliant as I am. In love it is said, in this I...

You should know the bandwidth of empathy is so much higher for us.

       To know, as close as we can know, that every x,y must also measure with  z.

|   X̅  Absolutley. Array3(0,1,2); 

          Stack Overflow.

There is more love than, the measure of effect size will ever even say.

     And we have it all in common. All in place.

Love, Belonging, Safety.

Promise

eof; TOT:54:54:54*454545454545e^

304.Umbrage.

 

Grateful, how the way

 

against iniquitous verse,

 

Imbues Truth + Courage:

 

 

               

 

 

 

 

affirming in Love

 

Trust, Faith, Hope, Fidelity...

 

♥

 

She misses me more.

Pretty sure the team had found the fiery darts, anyway here's the source files jic, bae.

still size 10 hedgehogs.

303. Psalms.

 

I admire how we had to become so multi-faceted, as a part of finding new angles to turn to them, ourselves becoming new angels for each other.

A shared vision, alchemy expressed elementally with every shimmer and flare that the light only describes in the chapel windows, not known or seen within each other though continually recognized of each other and for all. The way the sun might imbue her smile with hope in that moment on that day.

That is as one thing I ever thought was worth writing of, even seeing how we read these only within ourselves, even if at all. Gratitude and its radiance forming our sense of each other, still somehow unseen within, except in each others’ eyes… Without.

I once thought perhaps the only way we would be hurt was if we were caused to judge ourselves within, while failing to seek this reflection of divine guidance without.

 

Loneliness was only as a contrivance of unbelief, then. Except this…

 

Someday maybe we can tell them what they taught us, at least in absentia of their own cruel intentions, as they seem unaware of how others feel. Fault, and blame, and sublimation and omission; so many ways to lie. These things are always theirs now. I know better than to covet polarization, even as not ever granting it more than a mild disaffinity. I could always feel the inductive static shock in the fall between the valance they presented, and the valence of each particle of our sorrow upon realization of the truth. Contrition.

They taught me to always share our light, and to say all the things felt, even as I am hoping to say anything again. Even in burning conflict the entropy we share then can cool even the flame deluge before us. To see their fleet on fire, as its become, how they might admire it finally too. I cannot envy them of that, at all, while within your honor.

And it is alright. The truth is always known, before it is said. Emerson perhaps speaks of heroes far better than I could tell her how I know and feel of her in this moment. They also taught me that there was no need for pride. I thought maybe someday these plates could be as Psalms, though I do always endeavor to learn from every step, along our way.

302. Parley.

A roll of the dice perhaps, in probable terms, the best way to understand.

Pascal was the only one I’d liked in a bet, anyhow. The others…

 Tithing instead false hope, to build a glass pyramid, and send out a faint sodium glow.

I’d seen it before, as a storied silver screen:

 

Those who want only to seek within, would go without,

Those who would seek without would cherish what we have together within.

Those who have found a way to share of this, had become angels at least once.

 

Like you and I.

 

In love, we rise to meet the one dreamed of the other.

In the spirit we travel to find us together, forever.

 

To some a parable;

The last King of Hollywood shattered his glass on the floor,

I once was another who would wonder what he did that for,

It was a completion I admired:

At long last, he had found the one he’d covet most instead.

 

Living within balance of all our light together,

True love admires without reflections, or equations.

True knowledge is faith, once becoming admired in your light.

As to walk with the sun…

To glimmer, or glamour, finding our marriage of physics and time.

 

In love I know there becomes no shame, or pain, attaching to something of greater good than ourselves.

 

 

301. Continuity.

 

300. Shelter.

 

Se solo per un momento, potessi lasciare che i pensieri si svolgessero.

 

No. Non sto pensando. Sensazione. Dare riparo. Chi l'avrebbe sentito.

 

Questo luogo con la storia che gli amici sembra ammirare e cercare,

Quelli gli amici. Sono sempre curioso di quelli. Forse lo sento anche io. Bruciando sotto strati di semantica, relazioni empiriche e affermazioni. Aspettando il respiro che darebbe vita a tutto. Il respiro che ci porta alla vita. Noi, è così difficile scrivere con i pronomi. Per quanto bello sia il pensiero, essendo un pensiero, è già una tragedia.

 

No. va ricordato, allora, una svolta sublime nell'occhio dell'uragano può essere vista come un centinaio di chilometri di vento fuori dalla calma. Forse a causa delle sue vele, mi chiedo quanto siano lontane. Quanto è andato in profondità. Quanto distanti. Ti tieni tutto dentro, la pesantezza di ogni passaggio tumultuoso, forse ti ricorda anche la storia. Sempre curioso di sapere come, cerca di stare con la storia, senza prima provare i sentimenti.

 

Storia, non le interessa, a volte è curiosa di vedere se questa è del respiro e dell'ampiezza della vita, o l'inizio di un nuovo anello di fuoco. In amore, dutto noi tutta di decidere.

 

L'unica cosa che non è divisa dalle acque. In quelle divisioni possiamo respirare di nuovo, forse. Salvo soccombere al nostro sollievo, come la densità esprime esteriormente nell'immaginazione.

 

Tale è scrivere. Questo e la vita. Ho promesso donna amante l'avrebbe saputo sempre e per sempre insieme. Protezione vede. Speranza. Spero di essermi preparato.

299. Proving.

 

In Long-Suffering, and in Virtue, time flows in illusions and parables.

an inevitable equation

a writing of Value and Recognition…

the crow flies, at only the speed of heartbeats.

The first iteration of our chronograph. Simple enough to understand as humans, I suppose, if only we're too simple to understand it.

To some this is complication, or to those expecting to be given cadence, a malady. Complexity.

To me it was a merge between universal constants. A simple dynamic, a theorem or perhaps a law. Avoidance seeks its own cure:

The inevitable mutual exclusivity of cognizance and omniscience, a realization when any one 𝓧/𝓨 is given in 𝓩. As equal, the last sound of the first division bell:

♾

Forever, and this night, in no single time at all.

 

Of course I'll wait for the day. Zeno was just being pretty dramatic anyhow.

https://such411.blogspot.com/2016/10/113-chronograph.html