This *stumble (see the Stumbled Upon site) was just that. A stumble over my own feet as I wanted to explore something a lecturer had said. It is not enough just to hear the words, but more so to seek further upon them. Lucky me that I should end up here. There are some things that I would not want to share for fear of those having a weak stomach or to point said to have myself removed for violation of showing truth of the horrors committed on this earth. Sure I can look upon them in curiosity and say "why did he/she die so?" as I ponder the corpse or parts of it on a still bloodied street. A mind is a terrible thing to waste so I ponder on all avenues and in all avenues that my feet may fall upon. Thankfully, this was a lovely one. ~ Maggie ~ September 25, 2009 @ 3:01 a.m. EST
The "Stumbled" and discovered site: http://in.answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070421170720AAtFRSg Based on a lecture given at: http://www.academicearth.org/lectures/how-to-live-given-certainty-of-death
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
The Dance
Stationary are we in a room of black
Slowly
Surely
A sconce is lit
Then two
Then four
Peering are we to the four corners
Whose light of fire appears dancing in apparent space
Nothing below or above
No light save for the four torches
I speak and you catch me
En garde! Touche!
You are right this night
In this regard
I don’t want to change you
To this I admit touche!
Yet, be it known, I too am me and will always be
A practitioner all my own
Shall we dance kind Sir?
The harvest approaches and we only reap what we have sown ~ Maggie ~ September 17, 2009 @ 1:13 a.m. EST
Slowly
Surely
A sconce is lit
Then two
Then four
Peering are we to the four corners
Whose light of fire appears dancing in apparent space
Nothing below or above
No light save for the four torches
I speak and you catch me
En garde! Touche!
You are right this night
In this regard
I don’t want to change you
To this I admit touche!
Yet, be it known, I too am me and will always be
A practitioner all my own
Shall we dance kind Sir?
The harvest approaches and we only reap what we have sown ~ Maggie ~ September 17, 2009 @ 1:13 a.m. EST
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
I Say~
Graced with patience and guided with balance
Words thus far gently escorted to ears
Gently I say. Aye. With understanding of my doing
Holding back with bridle of my own doing yet again
Words are weapons and are more mighty than a sword!
I have yet to leave understanding of where toes lie in shoes
Dance gracefully. Gracefully I say!
I watch with abstract precision
Gathering, but not with glee
Oh, patience whence forth you give out?
One can play games of childish and childlike fashion
When being a child!
Make room for that which is embedded in us all
Parent, Adult, and Child (Transactional Analysis (TA))
Parent to Child/Child to Parent does work
Parent to Parent does not
Child to Adult/Adult to Child does not work
Adult to Adult is best
Do I remember it?
The Adult embodies all three...TRI...TRY (Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP))
Communication is fundamental
Sometimes it is about what we say. Sometimes it is about what we do not say. Sometimes it is how we say something. Sometimes it is how something is not said. ~ Maggie ~ September 16, 2009 @ 11:13 p.m. EST
Words thus far gently escorted to ears
Gently I say. Aye. With understanding of my doing
Holding back with bridle of my own doing yet again
Words are weapons and are more mighty than a sword!
I have yet to leave understanding of where toes lie in shoes
Dance gracefully. Gracefully I say!
I watch with abstract precision
Gathering, but not with glee
Oh, patience whence forth you give out?
One can play games of childish and childlike fashion
When being a child!
Make room for that which is embedded in us all
Parent, Adult, and Child (Transactional Analysis (TA))
Parent to Child/Child to Parent does work
Parent to Parent does not
Child to Adult/Adult to Child does not work
Adult to Adult is best
Do I remember it?
The Adult embodies all three...TRI...TRY (Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP))
Communication is fundamental
Sometimes it is about what we say. Sometimes it is about what we do not say. Sometimes it is how we say something. Sometimes it is how something is not said. ~ Maggie ~ September 16, 2009 @ 11:13 p.m. EST
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Combination Numbers~
9-9-09 bearing on course to change
Behavior not
See me as I was
I saw me today
The notion of change to certain aspects simply revolve
Revolution back to the round image
Perhaps not so sound in past
Image is imaginary at best
What is gained by investigation
The mirror screams when not seen
The mirror that isn’t
Patterns
The snowball rolls up the hill only to find itself small again
Hey you! I know you. I saw you before at another time...
From whence the fires roared
Went into tranquil
I saw the woman who tried to run over the man
At another time she shut her mouth
She slumbered numb and dumb
“I see” said the blind man!
When it was too late
Eyes picked clean by a raven
Dance gently and sweetly
Watch the toes for reflexes in other regions
As a monster can and does lie within
Take your drugs man!
Nay! Detox yourself
“KNOW THYSELF”
I reckon I recognize a behavior and why such was performed. Sickly was the thought and the understanding of such. Then again, it was the truth. My truth. The shame of it all. All this for what? ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a MAX ~ 9/9/09 @ 8:32 p.m. EST
Behavior not
See me as I was
I saw me today
The notion of change to certain aspects simply revolve
Revolution back to the round image
Perhaps not so sound in past
Image is imaginary at best
What is gained by investigation
The mirror screams when not seen
The mirror that isn’t
Patterns
The snowball rolls up the hill only to find itself small again
Hey you! I know you. I saw you before at another time...
From whence the fires roared
Went into tranquil
I saw the woman who tried to run over the man
At another time she shut her mouth
She slumbered numb and dumb
“I see” said the blind man!
When it was too late
Eyes picked clean by a raven
Dance gently and sweetly
Watch the toes for reflexes in other regions
As a monster can and does lie within
Take your drugs man!
Nay! Detox yourself
“KNOW THYSELF”
I reckon I recognize a behavior and why such was performed. Sickly was the thought and the understanding of such. Then again, it was the truth. My truth. The shame of it all. All this for what? ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a MAX ~ 9/9/09 @ 8:32 p.m. EST
Death Of A Hornet~
In the warmth of today’s gleaming sun, I had removed my jacket to absorb the heat and to read Nicholaus Copernicus’ On the Revolutions of Heavenly Spheres. As is NOT my usual practice, I brought my covered thermo-insulated coffee cup outside with me. There upon the table it sat as I drank away the java which took several hours.
When just sipping upon some Joe at home and all alone or with a chosen crew, I drink it rather fast and surely while it is warm. Yet in the warmth upon this day, I drank so slowly and sipped away in a lady-like fashion with pinky on display! Upon the emptying of the cup through my final sip, I went inside to refill said cup and thus scooped up my thermos. Upon opening both to commit my task, I filled my cup to brim. Oh! Upon the filling be there a hornet floating in my cup! As the refill was performed within the confines of a structure, I hastened my behind to the great outdoors with hornet on paper to attempt to probe it to life. Yes. I had removed the darling and placed it on paper in an attempt to revive it. My fingers lying on either side of it in hope of movement.
Previously...The words “KILL IT” coming from another did not leave me smiling since the poor create surely looked dead. Nay to my killing it. Unfortunately, the poor little darling did not come back and, at present, its little corpse lies upon my table. I did continue to sip my coffee as I found no problem in doing so.
As it is but the shell of the being, I shall hold steadfast to it until I can gain another microscope. I believe I gave my old one to my daughter. ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a Arachne ~ 9/9/09 @ 7:40 p.m. EST
When just sipping upon some Joe at home and all alone or with a chosen crew, I drink it rather fast and surely while it is warm. Yet in the warmth upon this day, I drank so slowly and sipped away in a lady-like fashion with pinky on display! Upon the emptying of the cup through my final sip, I went inside to refill said cup and thus scooped up my thermos. Upon opening both to commit my task, I filled my cup to brim. Oh! Upon the filling be there a hornet floating in my cup! As the refill was performed within the confines of a structure, I hastened my behind to the great outdoors with hornet on paper to attempt to probe it to life. Yes. I had removed the darling and placed it on paper in an attempt to revive it. My fingers lying on either side of it in hope of movement.
Previously...The words “KILL IT” coming from another did not leave me smiling since the poor create surely looked dead. Nay to my killing it. Unfortunately, the poor little darling did not come back and, at present, its little corpse lies upon my table. I did continue to sip my coffee as I found no problem in doing so.
As it is but the shell of the being, I shall hold steadfast to it until I can gain another microscope. I believe I gave my old one to my daughter. ~ Maggie ~ a/k/a Arachne ~ 9/9/09 @ 7:40 p.m. EST
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Pondering the notion of a mind on vacation...
What would happen if I stopped thinking as much as I do? What would life be like? Would I get bored? Hell, I suppose that I would not talk to myself at that point nor would I laugh out loud or run experiments using third eye visuals and hand movements. Nope. Probably not as my mind would be on vacation. What would I do with all that free time that I would then be paying attention to? (Imagine watching the second hand on a face clock going round and round ticking louder and louder while observing the motion and nothing more. There would not even be thought as to what are the mechanics that move the arms. Meh!) What if I could not read or explore things within myself, others, and the world around me? What if I could not play connect the dots with the information that I gather? Where would I be? Who would I be? Would I be? Hum... I would not be me that is for sure.
In summery, I would probably be bored. Me thinks I would not like that. Sure I am alone and may be viewed as eccentric, but all in all, I am not lonely. I am not bored. Hell, I have to take pills to shut off the chatter and the visuals that occur out of “poof” that either generate art, words, or research. The more I absorb, the more I question. These questions push me to learn more and connect the dots for no specific purpose save that I CAN. I don’t want to be anything but me when I grow up so, learning is FUNdamental for the sheer hell of it. Yup!
Silly me finds beauty in bugs, sky, tall grass, and creative individuals. I find beauty in exploring human behavior including my own. Even dead things are interesting. To some rain may be viewed as a damper, but I am like a duck and love being in it.
Okay, so maybe to you I seem strange, however, as strange as I may seem, I would like to place you (whomever views me as strange) under microscopic observation and explore your strangeness. I am sure you have your own set of idiosyncracies as well as thoughts and values that could have major holes blown through them by YOU after we have had time to explore YOU. Your blowing holes though me will be equally enjoyed.
My mind is staying put. ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2009 @ 9:16 p.m. EST
In summery, I would probably be bored. Me thinks I would not like that. Sure I am alone and may be viewed as eccentric, but all in all, I am not lonely. I am not bored. Hell, I have to take pills to shut off the chatter and the visuals that occur out of “poof” that either generate art, words, or research. The more I absorb, the more I question. These questions push me to learn more and connect the dots for no specific purpose save that I CAN. I don’t want to be anything but me when I grow up so, learning is FUNdamental for the sheer hell of it. Yup!
Silly me finds beauty in bugs, sky, tall grass, and creative individuals. I find beauty in exploring human behavior including my own. Even dead things are interesting. To some rain may be viewed as a damper, but I am like a duck and love being in it.
Okay, so maybe to you I seem strange, however, as strange as I may seem, I would like to place you (whomever views me as strange) under microscopic observation and explore your strangeness. I am sure you have your own set of idiosyncracies as well as thoughts and values that could have major holes blown through them by YOU after we have had time to explore YOU. Your blowing holes though me will be equally enjoyed.
My mind is staying put. ~ Maggie ~ September 6, 2009 @ 9:16 p.m. EST
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The Holder of the Key
Skeletons are some whose doors are old and not guarded with well rounded locks
Keyed to open gates that wait but naught thought
Novem dost come about in the nine as now
But ponder I do the outcome
Guarded not upon a chain
Lost to time now and again
Tears that flowed were not in vain
As vanity does no good
Yet when all is said and done
The midnight skies do see the sun
Wars not lost and battles won
Will you think of me?
Gaze upon the key you see
Do look past to the teeth that be
Open the lock of eagle three
The art of communication
Sitting by the windowpane
I hope not for “November Rain”
Metal out not to feel the pain
Will you remember me?
What is is and
What will be will be
I leave it to chance
And wish upon three... ~ Maggie ~ September 3, 2009 @ 2:55 a.m. EST
Keyed to open gates that wait but naught thought
Novem dost come about in the nine as now
But ponder I do the outcome
Guarded not upon a chain
Lost to time now and again
Tears that flowed were not in vain
As vanity does no good
Yet when all is said and done
The midnight skies do see the sun
Wars not lost and battles won
Will you think of me?
Gaze upon the key you see
Do look past to the teeth that be
Open the lock of eagle three
The art of communication
Sitting by the windowpane
I hope not for “November Rain”
Metal out not to feel the pain
Will you remember me?
What is is and
What will be will be
I leave it to chance
And wish upon three... ~ Maggie ~ September 3, 2009 @ 2:55 a.m. EST
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