Be in the right place at the right time

You have to be in the right place at the right time but remember the right place isn’t physical – it’s in your mind, and the right time is all the time because time doesn’t exist.

dickste.in

See the art of a person

Look at a person as a living, breathing, quantum, piece of art that should be judged on its overall either positive, negative or neutral visceral reaction to your soul. When you look at a painting it is not one tone, shade or shadow that makes art-work.

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Put out enough energy

Put out enough energy to create a field around yourself or you will end up getting sucked in to the energy fields of others.

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Tattoo-words can not be lasered

Tattoo-words can not be lasered, certain phrases will remain, if not just a gentle glaze, surface-braised on the brain. These are words that no-less will render, remnants of pain, met forever. So before you sit upon that chair, cold vinyl and sterile air, ponder well, for; IT’S NEVER TOO LATE TO AVOID A MISTAKE!

dickste.in

Alien technology

Batteries, radio, sending / reception of frequency – all natural, human biological technology. Humans are the aliens from which we model / reverse engineer electronic / digital technology.

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Published
Categorized as UFO's

The algorithm-sensitivity of life

On a micro-level, we know that our life-path is a series not of choices, options, or happenstance – but the reactions and end results of those events, with the conclusion of each event being the platform for the next. On a macro-level, the “now” is the real-time result of all life paths reacting, interacting, and bouncing off of each other. This is the algorithm-sensitivity of life.

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Subconsciously-psychosomatic

We have only partial control over how we feel, this is because most of how we feel is dictating by circumstances and environment. When someone asks how you feel, a proper answer would be: I feel subconsciously-psychosomatic.

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Life

Life is a lucid dream with parameters.

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Technology is not new

Technology is not new, it has existed throughout all measurable-space; I don’t say “existed throughout all time and space” because “time” does not exist.

From a different view, you will realize that technology is not new. I propose it’s been there, on the other side of renaissance paintings – machines in the hide. You will see that each era or “period” is a pre-programmed sequence of events with a beginning and an end. This series of progressive sequences are what we call “history” and they provide a background to beings on earth; there are a number of theories on why this history was created to program people, perhaps for some kind of foundation for those that can’t handle the truth.

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Stars are numbers

I think the stars are numbers and the numbers are stars, and that the sky above is another globe’s below. I feel the vibrations of thunder’s subtle-rumble animate tiny textures, like salted lectures, to an audience of sea-sand ticked toes. I see a world with woes about fake votes, by those who defend at end the ones they chose, and have faith in news that speaks-not in truth’s tone. All things earthly full of wonder, with exception of the trivial pursuit of the man’s grand plan.

dickste.in

Published
Categorized as Poetry

Afraid

Some are afraid to see themselves in the light, afraid that they may catch a fright, of themselves a ghastly sight which resembles nothing like the image that carries their plight, to destroy the souls of those who see – oh shit, that coward is me.

dickste.in

Published
Categorized as Poetry

Have you seen yourself

Have you seen yourself in Victorian times, did your drums imprint on your brain, translations of a paused-period’s harpsichord-vibration? Was your alien abduction a memory reconstructed, or fragments of information learned, supra-injected to form a world projected in the space we’re told candles won’t burn. Or, what if time is out of place, chronological-measurement a lofty-figment of imagination, mis-read due to spinning food on spoons while being fed. Our version of reality perpetually defaced, by sources forgiven eternally by zombies who hold faith in nothing more than his grace. The past is clear in our ability to slow time physically, man’s secrets throughout time, packaged and sold to us through the mind’s voice of a disguised comic’s soliloquy.

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Published
Categorized as Poetry

When someone is on your mind

When a connected someone is on your mind, you can channel their soul and they can take over your mind and body. They will notify you of their presence by altering your vocal tones and mannerisms.

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Space is the digital mother

Space is not a physical place. We can not reach space by physical vehicles such as rocket ships, as physical objects can not transport a physical being to a metaphysical, digital place. We undoubtedly exist within, and are encapsulated within space. Space may be the final frontier, or it may be the master platform / operation system, and earth is a place where digital things manifest into the physical; digital avatars become “human beings” – the ones that can’t be deprogrammed simply lack “permissions” from the master platform / “space.” If space is the digital mother – perhaps space is G. The process of trans humanism, is a evolutionary process of converting human beings back to digital entities or avatars so they can eventually “travel” back to space, and yes, Mars, which is a digital place located in space. “We” will not be going to Mars as physical beings; we will “colonize” Mars as digital beings in a digital society, which incidentally is the most probable way to “survive” on whatever digital place we know as Mars. All paper cash and eventually gold and other precious metals will be converted to digital currency, with the evolutionary-purpose of enabling our eventual society of digital humans to take their money to Mars. You have just been gifted the knowledge to guide you towards understanding who built the digital platform we call space – have a nice day.

dickste.in

Cruel people

Cruel people have a cruelty bank, a large savings of the cruelty they have absorbed from others, and when their ego feels endangered, they draw from the cruelty bank and serve it to the easiest targets; mostly-kind, forgiving and unsuspecting souls. A cruel person’s thought process begins in the mouth and ends in the demise of common decency.

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Life is a near death experience

Some people say that they have been changed by a near death experience, while others realize that all of life is a near death experience. Incidentally, death, is a near life experience that you may never have.

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What divides

What is it that divides? What makes it so, that together we can’t thrive? Subtle differences in shades of skin, though nature-built-fundamental features akin. So we must ask why for some it’s not natural, feelings of brotherly love of man should be actual. I revisit the question of what divides, well for some, their goal is to more-than survive, they capture the bees and steal their hive; this is the way greed multiplies, as it feeds wide eyes wild lies to drown out the bee’s cries. But again, what is it that divides?

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Published
Categorized as Poetry

The root of stupid: What makes stupid, stupid

Stupidity is a root-deep vicious cycle. Stupid people don’t want to learn because they believe learning something new makes them stupid for not already knowing what they need to learn in order to become less than stupid.

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We have designed time

Time could be an arbitrary measurement. The measurements of time with time measurement instruments is not very different than the act of measuring your kitchen table. We, or somebody for us, have designed time. We can watch things grow, so we can prove “development” though we can not prove that development is a symptom or causation of this “time” that we keep measure of. By the way, who is in charge of time?

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The pea brain

He believes the world may be flat, but he’s just too dumb to see; we’re spinning faster than light-speed, but we just can’t feel it; he doesn’t get it, his brain is like a pea.

In this round earth when you fly an airplane straight, you will make it back to your initial state. He’s way too dull to understand the mathematical-sciences at hand, don’t think too hard or you’ll hurt your head; the world of physics is not for the lame-brained.

The thing is, it all makes sense, for the masses that count, watch CNN death-tolls amount. And then one day he’s his only friend because the loyal Fox has left his den, the elephant was really a pig, and the election was rigged.

I must be a pea brain, it makes no sense to me.

dickste.in

Published
Categorized as Poetry

Who’s in charge of the sky tinting?

The base color of the sky seems to be a bright, light, blue; this blue is the default color of the sky-light. At times when the sky is grey, pink, orange, or even black, it appears that something or someone is tinting the default blue color to display different colors and shades throughout the available spectrum. I also wonder if it’s on a timer or if it somehow reacts or interacts with the weather people.

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All intelligent life on earth is A.I.

We have not created Artificial Intelligence. We ourselves, and all other “intelligent” life on earth are a form of artificial intelligence programmed by nature. We are likely living in a matrix, and if so, we can only invent within the parameters of the matrix; we can not create more than what we are. We did not invent A.I. – we discovered the truth about ourselves.

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Contesting one’s recollection

When contesting one’s recollection, we should consider their memory could be perfectly accurate and true, though we must keep in mind that memory was penned by the subject’s perception at the time the event is transcribed, and subsequently inscribed to the mind.

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Twin volcanos

Are there twin volcanos on opposite sides of the core? Is it a core? Or is it a floor?

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Soul synchronization

If you can synchronize time awareness with another person you are synchronizing your souls and you will begin to operate on the same frequency.

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Act: 1

It’s the same act – treated like shit by re-writing the script. The grand drape retracts, revealing a serene scene, birds tweeting, my character reeling from easy-feelings. A shot is fired at thy offensive feet, dance mother-fucker dance – a fiery blaze of speech heats, strapped into the hot-seat. A Kabuki drop curtain suddenly reveals, a well-worn war scene battlefield. Arrows sail towards the heart-shield, the heart is no match to the poison it yields. Never prepared to engage with such a dishonorable foe, the heart-torn warrior wanders, head down, scouring the ground. Die you do, a death of mediocrity those who hold a candle of hope towards a fruitful relationship with a narcissist – they would probably say this poem sucks.

dickste.in

Published
Categorized as Poetry