well you are, unless you provide sauce, merely adding to the psyop effort that the other anon discussed. Unless you have some sauce for us.
what a distasteful subject for so early in the day.
and here I was dreaming about confused news anhors suddenly sorting through all their brainwashing and casting it out, and going MAGA.
The limitless value of emptiness, encased by well known form, lets us fill it up with thought. The well known form of the love and support of others lets us live within a certain surity tht other people really do care, that the world isn't just here to chew us up and spit us out, and that Justice is a real thing, when stuff happens that is wrong, it gets fixed . . . and people are renewed.
"The Lord sends out his Spirit and renews the face of the Earth"
OK, that's a wonderful little aphorism and is correct in the way you mean it.
however to make it more clear, when the clever-eddies give you lip and try to twist it, you won't learn anything about the assigned subject if you dont' do your homework yourself.
because while you are screwing off about not doing stupid useless busy work homework (assuming it wsn't just busy work) you could be off in some other workshop that you'd rather be in, studying the tools and machines there, to make something wonderful that is more suited to your own personality, to provide good things that supercede the urges of gate-keeping taskmaster 'teachers' who assign too much work on a busy day that doesn't teach anything useful, but is merely designed to fill in the useless hours . . . so that teacher is the auuuttthh -thor- today-atay
slide off into your depraved need to make people throw up for breakfast!
but do it somewhere else.
the sick headed discuss their slide sa if they are just saying. The early-morning anon, with only part of his mind working cause the coffee ain't done doing that (working) in anon's head (anon is talkin' 'bout hisselff in the 'anon-person' (a new tense?)..
any wya ya, it's too early for me to have my 'do not hit post' mode in place, and I'm 'talking' to the cringe shills that suggest pepole look for horror in the early AM to suit the needs of unseating a person who isn't running for anything and is already kind of deflated of her power and influence.
coffee is giving more effect. Beautiful light on the faraway trees.
thoughts completely disconnected from the shills, wondering why people don't plant more trees?
ah, that beautiful void thing, like the pantheon, where we are hugged by the giant space of the real distancing that other souls give us.
right now I'm hugging a person in my mind who really needs it and giving a thought of unlimited and unconditional love . . . for the power of good . . .
and imaigning him suddenly turning, wihtin his dream with a smile.
and the concerned and saddendd manahattan wshington young man like a boy in his worrying presser-guy suddenly realize that all the MAGA people merely want to do wht is right and just . . . .
and that's my way of saying 'slide'
by pointing good people off inot that place and time of emmergence: when you realize that it's real and the real pepole are in real worry to get it right and be good and make people and things whole that were let to rot or in squallar .
the writer says 'percision of subject? what is the subject? the subject is diversion from dispair. the people who I would love to have that happen to? anyone in it, who feels it. Who can't see past the fog in the giant enclousure (they are given more than enough) to notice that there is a loving wrapper of other people's prayers and deeds . . . that encases this lonli void . . .
coffee is saying 'do not hit send unless you do a rewrtie'
but then I never will post it because I'll have moved on and that person in his room reading bullshit shillsplurge cringe might forget somehow his life is meaaningful and awesome.
lot of chatter at this level is inorganic.
you know that too.
carry on!
sorry to be so direct, my 'do not hit send' part is just starting to engage.
beautiful morning after a booming night of rain and thunder (but I slept)
so tears of a famefag would make me fall in love wiht him?