534

We see—Comparatively—
The Thing so towering high
We could not grasp its segment
Unaided—Yesterday—

This Morning’s finer Verdict—
Makes scarcely worth the toil—
A furrow—Our Cordillera—
Our Apennine—a Knoll—

Perhaps ’tis kindly—done us—
The Anguish—and the loss—
The wrenching—for His Firmament
The Thing belonged to us—

To spare these Striding Spirits
Some Morning of Chagrin—
The waking in a Gnat’s—embrace—
Our Giants—further on—

It was almost February and winter still hadn’t hit. I was beginning to
think that it wouldn’t arrive, and that spring was here. One evening as I was walking down the streets of the city I looked up to see a single snowflake falling down to meet my face. It was tiny and looked lonely, but a few moments later, it was followed by several more snowflakes. Sooner than later, the ground was covered in a white sheet of snow. and I was stuffing my hands in my coat pockets and pulling my hood on to brace myself against the bone-chilling wind. I made my way into a small coffee shop that was still open and was greeted by a short stocky man in his mid thirties with a dark, curly mustache and sleeves of faded tattoos.
“Hello” he said, his voice sounding deep and smooth. I pulled out my headphones that were burning in my ears, pressed pause on my phone and shoved them carelessly in my messenger bag.
“Hello”, I replied back with a slight smile, pulling my hands out of my
pockets and making my way to the counter.
The shop was small, but it had a staircase leading upstairs with more room for seating. The man who stood behind the counter continued to unpack small plastic covered packages, putting them away in cupboards and freezers. I pulled out my wallet from my bag and plopped it on the counter, feebly attempting to pull out my card with my hands shaking violently from the cold.
“What a night”, the man said, his eyes still focused on his duties.
“Hmm.” I said, nodding. “Can I get a 12oz mocha, please?” The man looked up from his package, and giggled coyly.
“Sure you can, sweetheart." He put the package that he was holding down below him, and began making the drink I had just ordered. My credit card held tightly in my hand, still shaking. There was awkward silence between us and I got the feeling the man understood I didn’t feel like talking. He finished my order, filling a small, white ceramic mug, and pushed it across the counter towards me.
“Anything else?”
I shook my head, implying no and handed him the cold card. He swiped it and handed it back to me, along with a receipt and a pen to sign. I signed the receipt, grabbed my coffee and headed up the stairs to my right. Upstairs, there was a large room with a dining room looking table and several chairs, and to the left, and a small hole in the wall with several cushions. I smiled at the welcoming spot, and took a seat. Pulling a small table up next to me, I set my coffee down, and rested my bag on the floor below me. The upstairs was completely empty. In fact; the entire shop was empty besides the man working downstairs. I took a deep breath in and let my head rest on some of the cushions behind me. Closing my eyes, I let out my breath and felt the warmth and the vast history of the shop run envelop me. I grabbed at the cup beside me and sipped at my coffee. It was still too hot to drink comfortably, so I set it down. Out of my bag, I pulled out my phone with the headphones still attached and scrunched into a tight tangled ball.
Untangling them, I placed each bud in my ear, and pressed play, continuing the song I had stopped when I had entered the coffee shop. I felt my eyelids grow heavy and I sunk deeper and deeper into the pillows around me, the smell of old books seeping into my skin. Finally, I closed my eyes, and after a few moments, was sound asleep.
When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a man’s face, unfamiliar but comforting.
“Excuse me…” he said, with a wide grin.
I jumped with embarrassment; ripping my headphones out of my ears, although they were no longer playing anything. How long had I been asleep? And who was this young man? An employee of the shop? A customer?
“Sorry!” I yelped.
The man chuckled as I swung my feet around to the floor and pulled out my phone to check the time. Realizing it was dead, I scanned the room for a clock and with no success I asked the stranger “What time is it?”
He rolled up his sleep, and checked what to be a rather expensive watch. The man was dressed nicely, but nothing too formal. A clean pair of black jeans, a plaid shirt and a sweater over it. His hair, a dark brown looked thick and slightly curled. He ran his fingers through it as he responded. “It’s quarter past.”
“Past what?”
He blinked at me. “Eight…” he paused at my confused look. “A.M”
I gasped at the time. It was just past nine at night when I had dozed off.
Why did the short stalky man not wake me? Did he forget I was upstairs?
Maybe he assumed I had left, and just missed me doing so.
“I…I…” I stumbled upon my words. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, still
unsure who this man was.
“My boss told me you’d be up here.” He lifted my cup of cold coffee and
handed it to me. “I can get you a warm cup if you’d like. We don’t open for another half hour.”
I nodded, and with the cup in hand, the man turned and headed down the stairs. I gathered my things, smoothed out my shirt, tossed my hair to one side and followed the man down the stairs.
“My names Elliot” he shouted from behind the counter and the noises of the coffee machine.
“Ellie.” I shouted back.
A door swung open and in Elliot’s hand was a new cup of coffee.
“That’s a coincidence.”
I smiled nervously and took the cup from the man.
“Sit.” he said, nodded to a table.
I followed his instructions and set my cup down and pulled out a chair.
He stared at me for a moment as I stared at my coffee. After a long moment of silence, I started.
“I am so sorr-”
He stopped me and reached out, resting his hand on top of mine.
“It’s alright Ellie…really.”
I had a few questions but didn’t know where to start. So I let the silence
continue.
“My boss figured you needed a place to stay.”
I wasn’t homeless. Did I look homeless?
“Do you...have somewhere to go…?”
I nodded. “I’m not homeless…” I proclaimed. I couldn’t help but stare at
his hands. There was something different about them from the rest of the
man.
“I figured. You’re too well dressed to be homeless.” He smiled, and his
hands moved up and through his hair again.
“So, if you’re not homeless then what’s your story?”
My story? I didn’t have a story. I was a young single girl. Lonely. Living
on her own in the city. On her way home when a snow storm hit. I just stopped into the coffee shop to get warm, not to spend the night like some refugee.
“My story?”
“Yeah, your story.” he continued to grin at me.
I paused to think of an answer.
“I was just on my way home. Stopped in for a cup of coffee. Guess I didn’t
drink enough of it.”
He laughed at the comment, showing a set of pearly white teeth.
“Maybe it wasn’t a very good cup of coffee.” He glanced at the cup in front of me. I lifted it and took a sip.
“This cup’s better.” We both laughed softly, then found each other staring
for long while at one another.
“I’ll make sure not to tell my boss you said that.”
I took another sip. “I should probably go…” I said, standing up.
“Go where?”
“Home.”
He shook his head chuckling slightly. “Hang out. I’ll open late.”
“I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience than I already have been.”
Elliot reached out and took my hand in his, squeezing it softly.
“Ellie.”
My eyes grew wide, and I felt my heart beat quickly within my chest.
“Let’s not play games with one another. Stay.”
I pulled my hand away, and bit my lip.
“I can’t. I’m sorry Elliot.” I grabbed my bag from under the table, and thew
it across my shoulder. “Thank you…” I said, thinking of his hands but
staring at the blue in his eyes. I turned around, and pushed the door open.


---------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

It was Valentine’s Day (or as I like to call it “Singles Awareness Day” ) and my friend had dragged me out to this terrible bar in the suburbs  titled “Distraction” My friend, who was newly single and “ready to mingle” laughed when she saw the big blue sign with the name.
“That’s an ironic name” she said, snickering.
I nodded my head and groaned as we headed inside. She was right. What was this bar distracting me from? If anything, it was drawing more attention to the things I was supposed to be distracted from by just existing with such a name. My friend walked up to the bar, leaned against a stool and ordered something sweet. She asked me if I wanted anything, but I shook my head no. After a few minutes of small talking with her, and watching her sip at her watered down drink, I noticed a young man walking towards us. The bar was dimly lit, and I couldn’t quite make him out but I sighed and turned towards the bartender.
“*** and coke” I hollered out to the man. “Pour heavy!”
I stayed facing the shelves of drinks, the different bottles organized by color and type. Whiskey, Tequila, *****. Suddenly, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and with a deep inhale, I turned; expecting some man with sleeked back hair and a bad tan to be facing me.
Instead, it was Elliot. Staring at me, standing inches from my face. I took a step back into a bar stool, and fell into a seat.
“Ellie” he said, smiling.
I couldn’t help but smile for a moment too, but then I quickly wiped it away as the bartender slid my drink to the right of me. Before I could do anything, Elliot placed a few dollars on the counter.
“You don’t have to -“
“It’s fine”  He continued to smile widely.
I looked around the room for my friend, she was across the room playing darts with some broad shouldered man. I took my glass, placed the straw on the counter and gulped down about half of it in one drink.  
“Happy Valentines Day” he said, almost sarcastically following the statement with a slight laugh.
I felt myself smiling again and took another gulp. The bartender definitely poured heavy. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, and I clenched my teeth. I could tell Elliot was trying hard not to laugh.
“Would you like to dan-“
I bursted out laughing.
“Dance? Oh god, please. Don’t do this Elliot.”
He stared at me widely for a moment. “What are you so afraid of Ellie?”
I scoffed, and shook my head, taking another drink I responded
“I’m not afraid of anything”
He blinked at me, then ran through his fingers through his hair and breathed out loudly.
“Is it me?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer this, or what he was really even asking. I stumbled on my words, stuttering. I finished my drink, and set the glass down on the counter.
“Another?” he asked.
“No...” I paused. “Thank you”
He stared at me for a moment, his brows furrowed. He reached out to touch me, and I pulled away.
“Ellie...Let me-“
I interrupted him and shouted out “space!”
He looked puzzled, then chuckled.
“What?”
“I’m afraid of space”
“Space....? Please elaborate.”
“Like the sky, and the planets and the stars and ****”
He laughed softly. “And ****...”
“Think about it. We have no idea what’s out there. We have no idea what’s coming for us. We are so small, comparatively.”
“So you believe in aliens?”
“I believe in possibility”
“Anything could happen.”
“Exactly! Right now, as we speak, the sun could explode.”
“Or, aliens could invade!”
“You’re really stuck on the alien thing.”
“It’s a possibility”
We both sat in silence for a moment, his eyes felt heavy on me. I stood up from my stool, our bodies were almost touching.
“I’ve got to go see if my friends OK.” I said, glancing over at her. She was still playing darts with the broad shoulder man. He had his arms wrapped around her, ‘showing’ her how to hold the dart now.
“She looks like she’s doing ok to me” Elliot said with a snicker.
I didn’t argue.
“What’s your last name?” he asked.
I shook my head violently. “Look, Elliot. You seem-“ I stopped and thought of how I wanted to finish my sentence, but before I could, Elliot grabbed my hand and held it tightly.
“Ellie. I’m just a man. I’m not some comet coming down or some alien race a million light years away. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
I took a few shallow breaths, my heart was pounding. I tried pulling away, but Elliot just pulled himself closer to me.
“You said you believe in possibility. You can’t deny the possibility of you and me.”
“I...”
He reached up, and tucked a hair that was falling down my face behind my ear then stepped back, letting go of my hand.
“I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”
“I want to help you conquer your fear”
“Oh?”
He grabbed my hand again and pulled me towards the door, I looked over to my friend, but didn’t fight him.
“She’ll be okay.” he said, still tugging me.
I followed him out the door and down the street. We stopped and hailed a cab, as one pulled up, he opened the door for me.
“Get in.”
“I don’t even know you. You could be taking me to some wear house to **** and ****** me!”
“Ellie. Don’t be so dramatic. Get in”
“Where are we going?”
“To the moon.”
“And back again?”
“We’ll see. Maybe once you get there, you’ll never want to leave.”
“It’s a possibility”
I stepped inside the cab, and so did he.

------------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------


Once we were in the cab, the rush of excitement I was feeling in the bar and in the street had faded. Elliot handed the man his phone, which had an address written on it. The cabbie put the address into his GPS and started the meter as he drove on.
“So are we taking the cab to the moon? Or are we just taking the cab to NASA and then a spaceship to the moon?” I said sarcastically, my voice breaking from nervousness. Elliot put his hand on my leg, and sat back into his seat without saying anything.
“Who’s paying for the cab Elliot?”
He continued to be silent. I turned at stared out the window, I noticed the cab was taking us out of the city and I began to get a little worried.
“Can you please tell me where we’re going?” I asked quickly. I looked back at Elliot, he was sweating.
“Elliot? Is everything OK?” His eyes were shut and his breathing was heavy.
“I’m afraid of things in motion.” he muttered softly.
“Isn’t everything in motion?” he opened his eyes, raised his brows and then smiled at me.
“I mean, the world is always turning and we’re walking, or breathing. So we’re moving, no matter what-“
“Can you be quiet please?”
I looked back out the window again for what felt like a long while. Finally, the cab stopped in front a large abandoned dome like building in a town I had never been in. Elliot was quick to exit the cab, and circle the car to open my door. I stepped out, Elliot paid the driver and the cab drove away.
“So you ARE going to **** and ****** me?”
Elliot looked at me, and took my hand.
“I’m sorry about in the car. What mean by things in motion is like, cars and trains and planes and...” he paused, “and ****...”
We both laughed.
“I knew what you meant. I’m sorry if I was being difficult.”
He gave me a look and I nodded at him. He took me by the hand and led me closer to the building. We reached a door that had been boarded up.
“This doesn’t look like the moon...Or NASA...”
“Ellie. Do you trust me?”
“I...I don’t really even know you so-“
Elliot pried back at the board, slipping into the building through a small space and pulled me inside with him. The room we stepped into was a circle, and in the center; a large telescope.
“Does that even work?”
He squeezed my hand, then let go. Approaching the telescope, he stepped up a small set of stairs to a control panel. He pushed a few buttons and a few moments later, I heard a whirring and a low rattle followed by a deep sound. I felt a slight vibration and suddenly the roof was opening above me, exposing the night sky. On this night, the stars were bright, and the moon was full.
“Come here” Elliot called out from near the telescope.
I started to shake only slightly at the sight of the sky above me, I felt frozen and tense, as if I couldn’t move. Elliot made his way down the stairs and towards me.
“It’s okay Ellie.” he said, reaching for my hand and guiding me towards the telescope. We stepped up the stairs, and he stood next to me, still holding my hand as he adjusted a few things, looking in the telescope, then at me, then back through the telescope. He turned towards me, nudging me.
“Go ahead.”
I looked at the giant metal telescope, and shook my head.
“I really appreciate what you’re trying to do here but-“
He put his hand on my lower back, and pushed me towards the telescope.
“Just look.”
I put my face close to the telescope, an

Author:  Kristen Stevens
Current mood:  frustrated

Anthony got a firetruck Lego set. The packaging says "ages 5-12". It also makes the claim "designed for easy building and instant play." Now I know he's only 4 but he's smart and not that far from 5 comparatively. I on the other hand am 28. Well outside the parameters age wise. Yet, this smallish box of tiny toys baffled me for over an hour. I have the directions, I've dug through the pieces, and am still mystified on occasion. As I'm searching for yet another microscopic piece of siren or whatever it was, I'm thinking..."5 years! I can't see any 5 yr-old sticking with this for this long without losing his mind. Then Mom would take it away because of the temper tantrum and never gets built. This is stupid! Where did that tiny loopy thing go?...etc" What part of an hour is "instant play" do they not own a dictionary? I could tell them.

Then once it's together, somehow Anthony keeps taking the windshield off. He's not  actively disassemble it. He's just rolling back and forth on the floor going "whoo-whoo!" Lego's the most touchy toy on the planet. Maybe he'll get some more when he's 15.

Comparatively speaking,
It's grand to live
In Canada.
It's as free as one can get,
Comparatively.
We have one hundred percent
Control over our destiny
And our bodies:
That is,
Until we near the end.
Then,
Our government decides
How we die.
I suspect they want to know
That I'm one hundred percent
Disposed and dispossessed.

|.|
The **** of the Sabine Women was an incident in Roman "mythology" in which the men of Rome committed the mass **** and abduction of young women from surrounding cities, most notably from Sabine where it is thought the women were nearly all natural redheads; by mythic talisman standards, possessing a natural magical ability. Hence, the Sabine women were born witches whom the Romans hoped to subjugate through force, but feisty as a race the Sabines ran off leaving the | Romans with their own native albeit comparatively homely Roman women.
It is thought the Sabine either joined with and subsequently mated with the few surviving Satyrs and became the basis for the later legend of the | Amazons. 343v (3, xxb) 12163168 3300
16 ABC 3 3 (200),
                         Dawn (lifestyle and music) especially (lifestyle and music),
musicians: (i.e. Yjtri powerful Greek, Italy (SBA)
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and the world neberi.yešēyitochi female) - 1683 1004 342 VFS (3) ج
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women
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absinthe & Bejlavie "phenomenal"
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and there is an outside mamy| ...      waiting to get taken up
2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 against the rejection
of Italy (Saba)
10, 2018  (62) 12, 100, 100                [Hard drinking
Albanian witches  fck anything, I've seen them ****
true stumps;  I mean, tree, tree ... tre
||343v (3, XXB) 12.163.168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (200),
Don is (especially into his
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Greece & Italy (SBA) 10, 2012 (60) 12 , 100;
100 34 / (3 ABC)
12.163.168 ICC and Spain 3300-3 16 (C)
                                          and last (3) (3)
(2, 1500 blue and world neberi.yešēyitochi female)
- 1683 1004 342 VFS
(3) ج XXb you sick and early and deep water soup
and the United States,
Frank and other places unknown unknown    
            [unknown Ukrainian woman] Children's Peace Center and drink,  
drink and drink,                     you say 20 Greek women and all beautiful - -
L. emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini and many other women
were drinking                        with "extraordinary" growths in their jaws
and drinking  ||
and drinking,                   And an external older 'mami' 2018
(62) 12, 100, 100
against the rejection of Italy (Sabah)
10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100.343v (3 xxb)         12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3
(200) Don (lifestyle,
particularly music), composite (i.e. forced by the Greek Praedictionibus Astronomicus, Italy
(SBA) 10, 2012 (60) 12, 100, 100 34 / (3 ABC)                   16| 3300-3
12,163,168 ICC and Spain (100) and finally (3) (3)
                              (2, 1500 blue and Neberi.yešēyitochi World Male) - 1683 1004 342 VFS (3)
"(yeš ēyi touch it)" and dybhavssuppe               and the United States,
France unknown Uranium                           and other places unknown
unknown woman at the center of the                   peace and drinking,
drinking and drinking,                        and they say 20 Greek women
and two for L. emet'a iguwiwiši - - there is plenty abbiini,
much, much to drink "extraordinary" growth edged
beverages and mixed drinks;                                      ******* Asian
Yuka Ozaki                 umiliated & throat destroyed; First Time
*******               and a remote old  mami 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100
who is  [Throat ****] 343v (HTV) 3 12163168 16, 3300 3 3 (100) Money
                                     ((ABC's, music, astronomy))
Grek mildettüü türdö baaloo, SBA 2012-10 (60)
ICC 12163168 Zana Spain 3 1683 1004 342
amerikalyk Dibbosuppa: 2 kök 1500 düjnö Neberi.eiesiitochi Erkek),
                                   "The beetle" is the abbot \ of the ******'s "house"                                          Italy (FTA)
Mindy degraded] sued for libel against the rejection
of Italy (Sabah) 10, 2018
(62) 12, 1343v (3ХХВ) 12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (200)
Don's (way of life, especially music), composite (i.e. compelling
the Greek Praedictionibus Astronomicus, Italy (SBA) 100 34 / (3 ABC) 16 3300-3 12163168 ICC and Spain (100) and ending (3) (3)
(2, 1500 blue and Neberi.yešēyitochi                           Face ****** & *****
slammed by the (World Man) - 1683 1004 342 VFS (3)
and dybhavssuppe)          and the United states,                  France unknown,
Uranus and elsewhere Unknown;
Petite Black ** ****** By Two Merciless *******
for sad ****
Unknown woman in the center of a **** circle,                            drinking it,
                                  drinking and drinking alcohol,
and they say 20 Greek women and two for L. e's
                                      met'a iguwiwiši abbiini;
for much more drinking the "extraordinary";
on the edge growth beverage and other beverages,
and a distant mommy's 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 Face ******
& DP'd first timer breaks down from defamation
and the rejection of Italy's (Sabah) |||
10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 00, 100|||
343v (3 HTV) 12,163,168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (200)
Don (way of life, especially music), composite
343v (HTV) 3 12163168 Chubby Latina Gets Pounded By ****
16, 3300 3 3 Banks (ABC's, Music, Astronomy)
Greek mild ettüü türd-ö balloon,
SBA 2012-10 (60) ICC 12163168
Zana is from Spain 3 1683 1004 342 United States of America
Neberi .eiesiitochi Erkek ),                "'Beetle' is the beginning of the Virgil"
Italy (ALS)
(which were forced by the Greeks according to the              Praedictionibus
                                                                ­                                  Astronomicus,
and Italy (SBA) 2012 10 (60) 12, 100, 100 34 /                        1 ( 3 ABC) 1
6 3300-3 12163168 ICC and Spain (100)
and ended (3) (3)
(2, 1500, at the bottom of the blue world
Neberi.yešēyitochi Male)
- 1683 1004 342 VFS (3)    and the United States
and dybhavssuppe;  unknown unknown unknown
uranium sent to France
and other places where a woman
is in the midst of the party peacefully
drinking and drinking, her sweet throat brutalized
and they say the two women were transferred                                   to
20 Greek For a Rough   Interracial *******
emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini:
much to drink "extraordinarily"                                    'edgy' drink beverages
growth and a remote Virgil's
2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 libelous slander against
the rejection of Italy (Sabah) 10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100343v
(3 HTV) 12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (100) Don (way of life,
especially music), the union (forced by the Greek
Praedictionibus Astronomicus, Italy (SBA) 2012 10
(60) 3 ABC) 16, 3300 with 3 12163168 ICC and Spain (100)
and at the end
(2) (3) (2, 1500, blue world Neberi.yešēyitochi Male)
- 1683 1004 342 VFS (3) and the United States young
desperate and hungry: |                                          Loud **** gets epic *******
& forced to do oral unknown unknown places
where uranium
in France,       another unknown woman gets in the middle
of the peace, Amy Gets Her Latina Throat ****** &
drinks **** and drinks alcohol,  while another Blonde ***** gets skull ******
hard,
saying Bleach Blonde Latina Gets Throat ******
that the two women transferred over    \   to the Greeks
20 emet'a Latina Amy Gets Her Sweet *** ******;
iguwiwiši abbiini too to drink...
The "extraordinary"      Lexi Marie Gets Her *****
Pounded By A Rough Stud on the
Edge;            budding development
and drinking the drinks 343v (HTV) 3 12163168 16,
3300 3 3 Banks (ABC, music, astronomy) Greek
mildettüü türdö baaloo, SBA 2012-10 (60) ICC 12163168
Zana Spain 3 1683 1004 342 United States of America
Neberi .eiesiitochi Erkek), "Beetle" -
"this is the beginning of Virgil"
Italy (ALS)                       at a distance from Virgileus,
Loud Emo ****-Poetess Get **** deep in her Throat;
& ****;  2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 defamation, |
slander rejection in Italy (Sabah) 10, 2018 (62)
12, 100, 100343v (3 HTV) 12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3              (100)
Don (way of life, special music), union (forced First Time **** Ends
In Tears,  by the Greek Praedictionibus Astronomicus, Loud Latina
Gets Big ***** In Her *** In Italy (SBA) 2012 10
(60) 3 12163168 ICC and Spain at the End,
Big ***** Latino Mom Takes Huge ****
In Her Throat & ***** (2) (3) (2, 1500,                                       blue world
Neberi.yešēyitochi Male) - 1683 1004 342 VFS (3)
and the young and dybhavs supper of the United States:
uranium in France where another unknown woman
in the midst of the peace,                      |Latina Is Chained Up And ******|
drink and drink and say that the two women
were transferred over to the Greeks 20
emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini also to drink;                                    This is Anne - -
                                  "excellent" edgy development |||
and drink drinks at a distance from queer                         Virgileus  2018 (62)
12, 100, 100 defamation, slander rejection in Italy (Sabah)
10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100343v (3 HTV)           12163168 3300 16 - ABC 3 3
(100) Don (way of life, Extreme ******* & DP for the black teen ||
special (music) union (forced to read Praedictionibus Astronomicus:
[Greece, Italy (SBA) 2012 10 ***** Gets ****** In Their ***]
(60) 12163168 ICC and Spain 3 and at the end (2) (3)
(2, 1500, blue world Neberi.yešēyitochi Male) - 1683 1004 342 VFS (3),
and young and United States dyed behavioral supper:
uranium in France where another unidentified woman
is pulled inside, Big boobed ***** girl face ******
deep and hard drinking and drink ****,    343v (3 HTV) 12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (100) Money (lifestyle, especially music) Compounds (forcing Greece to Praedictionibus Astronomicus, for SBA 2012 10 (60) 12163168 ICC and Spain 3 1683 1004 342 VFS (3)                   Young and American dybhavsupppe: Uranium drink and drink and tranquilizers;
Another unknown woman in France, and (2) (3) (2, 1500,         blue world Neberi.eyesyitochi male) Come emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini
and drink the edge of "excellence"
                                            development,   and drink Virgil drinks
Defamation Statements Italian (Sabah) 343v (3 HTV) 12163168 3300 16 ABC 3 3 (100) Money (Lifestyle, especially Music) Compulsory Compulsory Classes Greek Astronomy, SBA 2012 10 (60) 12163168 ICC and Spain 3 1683 1004 342 American Dibbosuppa: (2),
2, 1500, blue world Neberi.eyesyitochi male)
"emili" iguwiwiši abbiini "Drink Virgil"
Italy (Sabah)
10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100
Rough Interracial doggy & riding
and passed around;
              say that the women passed
out on the Greeks ||                         |
20 emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini                    and that the drink
is "excellent"
on the edge of development, and drink the drink of Virgil
2018 (62) 12, 100, 100, defamation, slander charge in Italy
(Sabah) 10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 Loves To Get Tag
Teamed  And Face Fucked343v (3 HTV) 12163168 3300
16 ABC 3 3
(100) Don (lifestyle, especially music) compounds
(forced Praedictionibus Astronomicus to Greece, |
Italy (SBA) for 2012 10 (60) 12163168 ICC and Spain 3
(100) end (2) (3) (2, 1500, the blue world Neberi.yeseyitochi Male)
- 1683 1004 342 VFS (3), and the young       and US dybhavssuppe:
uranium to France and another unknown woman inside,
drinking and peace of drinking, and say that this is
what the two women came to Greece for!
20 emet'a iguwiwiši abbiini and drink "excellent"
end of development, **** ****** Gets Her *** Slammed | |
and drinks Virgil's **** while he drinks drinks
[20 African migrants pile-on a naked tourist, from a young male
migrant; screammming, "no!' No one underss\tands;
steamy, overheated traffic, horns blazing exhaust;
human pollution blocking the roads
& cops avoid the smell of ***** & **** on their \n ragged,
filthy bodies; the streets are filled with crawling children
and beaten women covered in raw sewage; |
chasing children like rats | prostitution is down:
it hasn't rained|
2018 (62) 12, 100, 100, defamation charge
                                  of defamation in Italy
(Sabah) 10, 2018 (62) 12, 100, 100 |||***** ** With A Fat ***
Gets Pounded343v (HTV) 3 12163168 16, 3300 3 3
Organizations (ABC, music, astronomical) Greek mildettüü
türdö baaloo, SBA 2012-10 (ICC) 12163168 Spain Spain 3 1683
1004 342 United States of America Never mind. Cicero is a *******),
"Bees" "this is the origin of Virgil"               Italy (ALS)343v (HTV) 3 12163168 16, 3300 3 3 Companies (ABC, music, astronomical)
Greek mildettüü türdö baaloo,                SBA 2012-10 (ICC) 12163168
Spain Spain 3 1683 1004 342                               America of America's
Neber .isero Erkek), "The pi"
"This is the cause for Virgil"
                  ******* Italians (ALS)

I have compared my love
to the lazy, the no good
and to crazy girls of the past,
to my first truck, to a spell,
a moth and a bottle, to the hell
bending moon, if you could tell,
and to a Captain - if not a ship,
and to ways you'll come to know
too soon, but I have never, ever
compared my love for you.

At the risk of sounding sexist
I’d like to pay my highest respects today
to the girl at my accountant’s
with the beautiful *******.
Usually the only things that jiggle there
are the numbers on the ledger,
but today a couple of numbers
stuck out for me to admire.
She knew it all added up spectacularly well
as she bent down obligingly
and pointed out where I should sign
and showed me what I needed to see.
She knew and I knew that
capital gains and expenses
were comparatively insignificant here.
Saucy insouciance was the obvious upside.
Of course, I shouldn’t have noticed,
but then I'm afraid that's what happens
when you’re more
of a ******
than an entrepreneur.

Mike T Minehan

People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
From that point on you start looking both ways over your shoulder,
Because sometimes you feel thirty years younger and sometimes
thirty years older.
Now you begin to realize who it was that reached the height of
imbecility,
It was whoever said that grandparents have all the fun and none of
the responsibility.
This is the most enticing spiderwebs of a tarradiddle ever spun,
Because everybody would love to have a baby around who was no
responsibility and lots of fun,
But I can think of no one but a mooncalf or a gaby
Who would trust their own child to raise a baby.
So you have to personally superintend your grandchild from diapers
to pants and from bottle to spoon,
Because you know that your own child hasn't sense enough to come
in out of a typhoon.
You don't have to live forever to become a grampa, but if you do
want to live forever,
Don't try to be clever;
If you wish to reach the end of the trail with an uncut throat,
Don't go around saying Quote I don't mind being a grampa but I
hate being married to a gramma Unquote.

Boeing 777
MH17
17/7/14.

“ Most of the passengers had no race,
But today they gained a nationality.
Today, we are united in grieve. “

Tragedy struck again,
One strike after another,
One blow after another.

Today, we lost 295 people,
Out of a grand total of 7.046 billion people.

To an individual,
The figures may mean nothing,
Comparatively.

But as a nation,
This was a hard one to accept.

How do you digest the fact that
295 people lost their future,
Overnight.

How do you digest the fact that
295 people are gone just like that.

How do you accept the fact that
Your country is falling apart,
Slowly,
But surely.

Profitis Ilias

Zefian brought the Toxota and Pezhetairoi arrows; they were sovereign moldy points of the Bronze tips of the Taxota Archers and the Falangists. That in turn from the high sky formed a great pinwheel when the great dimension shone from the flat equinoctial sky, bumping the chins of Kaitelka, the dealer of the Parthenon lost, which rang the great bronze pine, and kilometers in length forming the makro koelum of Patmos; with vertices of the Pythagorean canon of Polykleitos. A large horizontal "V" was seen from Aorion's falling acrotera, projected in a bronze mega bolt coming from Betelgeuse's armpit, and forming a sidereal Vee, launched by the hunter Aorion from his constellation. This would be architectural form and Pythagorean canon-mathematical for purposes proportional to the Mandragoron. They fell from the four arrows that Zefian launched, from Crete that approached the contravening of Apollo, and Artemis towards an olive tree, originating in the arrows of Zefian, to mark the new cardinal points. Thus they began with two first sagites that are placed in the arc string, each one belonging north-south trajectories and the other two that were again violated with the eastern arc, to shoot the east-west arrows with southern magnetism limits. Three bolts are deposited in the canon of Polykleitos, and in the reticulum of the Pleiades that Aurion pursued.

The first two were Taxotas:

- North: Vóreios (Zefian Boreal)
- South: Nótos (Austral de Borker)

The last two were from Pezhetairoi:

- West: Dyticá (Sunset of Leiak)
- East: Aftó (Equinoctial of Kaitelka)

A - Zefian Vóreios

In the intertestamental of these egregious Pythagorean calculations, they stood out in the Vernacentricus, or extra automatism of foundation of the points to refer geodesics for the lifting of the Ultramundis Vernacentricus. From the Vóreios the Zefian canons are inter-testamented, which uses Horcondising forces, following the northern one of the Nothofagus Obliqua, essentially in the fungi of their trunks that paraded along the paths of the iterated populations of the Ezpatkul Forest; who was a servant who had remained from the last diaspora of the horcondising transmigrant by Joshua de Piedra, patriarch of the Orthodox mountains, and from the cordons of the Ambrosiella Ceratocystidaceae fungi, with a large proportion of the Ambrosia Mercurial, and of great influence from the fungal fungi, provided from the Legacy of Vernarth in Zefian to demarcate the northern boreal or Vóreios for the purpose that this Ezpatku, with its prominent Augrun or Gold teeth turned all the borer beetles demarcating the Vee of the Vóreios throughout the Horcondising region, bilocusing it in the borers of the Encinas de Patmos, with such frenzy... !, that from there they would extract the force of the Mapuche north winds from the Meli Witran Mapu, starting with the Pikún-kürüf North wind, first two arrows of the Taxotas, and South Waiwén, of the Pezhetairoi, of the quantum of transmigration of the sub-mythology of the Horcondising – Panhellenic. Then the Puelche that drags the borer beetles with more force to lift the uprising fungi of the Mandragoron by the East vertical, to culminate with the Lafkén-kürüf.

Zefian had enough time to mediate the ratio of Polykleitos to Ezpatkul. This Kanon or Canon will be of great relevance for the topography and survey of the temple, knowing that we must emphasize the perfection of the basal measurements, and the acrotera that will be suspended in the sensorial iconography of its forms, and in the star Betelgeuse giant with red blood cells, for the morphology of their own three-dimensional bodies, towards a comparatively human paradigm of Gaugamela anatomy bled in his pectoral, from here the Templar base of Megaron or Mandragoron began. Its size will be colossal but more ergonomic; it will be to redirect visuals of the Orion Belt, from where the fourth and last Zefian arrow was already on its way, to join the other three remaining from the Cretan *****, for the entire front of the façade Principal. The chromaticity will be sulfur yellow and red blood cells, both dependent on complementation with Cinnabar, and on the raised bodies of Court V of the Helleniká Necropolis in Kímolos. Under vileness or absence of light among the darkness, or of the apocryphal light of Evil, in contrast to the robust equanimity of light, and partisan shadow of Saint John the Apostle, for the hegemonic good and the incorruptible vision of him.

The naturalness made the world apologetic, and the immune defenses of the polish textures, invoiced proportional mathematical measures ibidem of the Hommo Novis, and of the Geometric Pythagoreanism for a body seven and a half times, starting from the base of the feet as the base of the plinth or frieze, until reaching near the capital that exemplifies the chin, before reaching the cornice, highlighting the figure of the capital with the front of the proportional ligament between the trunk, and the columns duly. Here the seven-headed Kanon of a David will declaim the measures of the psalms, counts in degrees, and sighing dimensions. The kinetics was earth towed by towing carts in tetra bronze arrows, which balanced the unbalanced balance and harmony of the created whole. The symmetry of the transverse poles was muscled to make kinetic centripetal in the inertia of the bolts as the faint glow of the canon rays struck. The stone of the mound was made of the sustentacular, and Vernarth's counterpose when the Himathion was tried, appearing disguised and in composing. In this way the movement and position of the muscles and of the figure in general of the human temple are portrayed, when pressing the third arrow of Zefian it adorned the consecutive cardinal points; in this position of the myriad, and their forces widened the line of sight of the Vernacentricus, dispersing the oblique line in forty-five degrees that would join with its right counterpart, in the middle of the radius that joined the central point destined where the fourth arrow would fall.

Zefian falling from the Belt of Aorion, destined to embed itself at the intersection of the next full moon. The volume of naturalism resembled the directive of Polykleitos, but it was far from his figurative geometric conception, being conceptualized by an intertestamental tendency of sub-mythology, and the Duoverse, which in turn was condescending of morphology by reestablishing a prehistoric figurative, which tended to be reflected in the similarity of an anachronistic contrast of the original morphism of the aesthetic universe, being retransformed into a sub-mythological Duoverso.

I hate people who trivialize any sadness.
If they're suffering, why should they be mocked?
You answer for me.
Don't tell me they're implying
They're suffering is greater than others
Or that they're intensifying
The flighting emotion that need not be exaggerated
Because you don't known their pain,
Get an insight to their thought,
Accept their pain into yourself--
Yes you have suffered, none can deny that
But if you don't respect the man
Comparatively weaker, or sound
How can anyone respect your position?
You are a parasite,
Lost in the host
You feed off sadness
You know it's a drought
Yet you remain cynical
So simple in your name.
Your life is filled with hollow anguish
You'll never learn in time

And in my dread
I know you are me...

Who said you're not in my life,
you are not important to me,
I know from past we talk less comparatively,
But it doesn't mean trust and friendship content is reduced,
Our friendship survived from severe communication gap attack that we both knew,
We are carrying this relation because ,
We know that rude talk and gestures will not make us,
who we are what we are really from inside,
So our efforts will make the bond better,
Ego is not a part of our personality which is **** bitter.

I am floundering in a new identity
often praise is irksome
it comes with a cost,
so subliminal I'll become, rudderless,
I voyage, comparatively
as a torrent is to stimulating.

This fish bowl I'm in
I am a speck on the bottom of it: I am gullible
Mom tells me I'm special: That's not true
It was all a ******* lie
papers I produce are mediocre
comparatively:  I  don't do jack ****
they make art: speak beautiful words
compose music: research human trafficking
discuss what the person is: what god is or isn't
look into the depths of what it is to be alive
configure ways to improve their environment
discover and decode molecular diffusion
unearth social constructionism
link biomechanics to psychological transfer
is this wall red?
do you think it is red?
is this vein blue?
do you know why it is blue?
is this cup green?
do you care about being green?
is this person yellow?
how is this a historical conflict to be yellow?
is this plaster white?
how can we transform the white?
That's right, now everybody go change the world
dive down to the depths of human evil
your letter of recommendation will get you
real
deep
however I,
I will not even get past the glass
the bowl is too shallow
I figured out bull ******* a long time ago
but not well enough to understand things
It was more one of those move your fins
and then some how you will be able to breathe
That's what happens when you spend too  much
time
inhaling the wrong things
you sink

They claim I can lead, that they can look up to me.
That in a time so bleak, it's nice to see someone so strong.
I am a very weak person.
I am fragile.
My immune system is shot.
Any passing pathogen is free to stir me up.
My walls are cracked and peeling, they are a poor defense.
I've lost control over my feelings, and nothing makes sense.
The world ends every day, yet, I remain in tact.
I'm a cockroach scuttling through the motions, taking orders from rats.
No one seems to think about the life of the insect, that putrid little pest,
After the fact...
After the blast, conflict is presumed to have passed,
But life is not as we're taught it is in History class.
Sure, I can survive; I've gotten by.
Haven't I prevailed over all of the ants and all of the flies?
Still, I wonder why...
Why? wonder...why?
I don't feel like I've tried?
At points on the line I thought I had died, or at least wasted my life.
Still, I stand here, watching the others pass by.
Expressionless faces filled with blood that's run dry.
The only reason I'm not floating on is because my hands were not tied.
I'd have drowned with the rest of them if it weren't for where I lie.
The ground on which I was born is comparatively high,
Though the guilt instilled upon me is pushing me lower to the scene of the crime.
Their lungs filled with water,
Mine with wasted time.
With feet barely wet, and my knees still dry, the guilt presses harder...but I still haven't tried.
If I am strong, then this world must be wrong.
Oh, so wrong. And for how long? How long must a man pretend to be a king when he is Kong?
My legs trembling...twitching...I can barely move.
I've been broken, burned, battered, and bruised.
Don't look up to me as if I peer down on you.
My friends, my enemies, you're all becoming confused.
If it is my help you seek, I'm sorry, you fool.
Can you not see? I am no better than you.

Maybe tomorrow
I'll admit that I was joking.
Comparatively walking forward.
Pretending I saw what I couldn't.
The rustling of leaves,
Allocation to how far the fall.
The optimism of smiles.
After all, I've know this whole time.
When & where.
Deliberately stealing glances.
The second, third, forth
Consciously known that you'd find me sooner or later.
My role through the renewal of perspective.
Maybe tomorrow you'll forget &
I'll joking walk up to you.
Smile and say "Tag, your it!"
Knowing that you've been it this whole time.
The rustle of leaves growing louder.
Having known that I revealed myself without a word

suspected of being
problematic, one is a
common
but
questionable
model, and an
adjustment
may
be
required
to address all
the nonsignificant
differences—
how
they
nonetheless constitute
important arbitrary
criterions
for
equivalence

the significance test
based on
observational
data
is
susceptible to (errors
of) interpretation
over the
question
at issue
namely, do
case differences
arise
because of
exposure
to a comparatively
small sample
or
because
of
another variable?

Exposure can be
only mediated
by
crude
estimates
and so may be
misleading
during
the
forming
of the hypothesized
model of one
that describes
the
association
between exposure,
bias, and
the variables,
and
reconciles
difference
with equivalence
significantly.

The model provides
little information
that is
incontrovertible
but
the results suggest if
adjustment for the variable
makes no
substantive
difference
ignore it

but if your knowledge
indicates the
adjusted
variable to
be preferable

then prefer it

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection


What you are about to read *will shock you. Some may find it extremely disturbing. I will tell you from the outset, also, that i am quite "insane". According to the psychiatrists "******-Affective". Manic-Depressive with Paranoid features.
I will freely admit that what you will read here will sound crazy. But please read on. It may be horrifying. It may be weird. It may seem extremely paranoid. But it still interests.

It is my desperate hope that you will read. And believe me. For, my "diagnosis" notwithstanding, I am as sane as the next "normal" person. I AM NOT A LUNATIC! What you are about to read really happened. To ME. It has plot twisting tension that could be put to the credit of Alfred Hitchcock. And a psychological horror that Steven King could emulate. How could I compare my writing to the genius of those great & talented men? I don't. Because, dear readers, I did not conceive of it. It was done to me. I merely convey the technology and techniques used to make any "normal person" appear a ****** Toon of 50 mile high proportions! It exists. And it is excruciatingly painful to be the subject of it.

So why would a girl from a comparatively small city, with no seeming accomplishments to commend her, and is actually quite unimportant, be the subject of such hateful torment? What has she done? I will convey ALL of the reasons. I did play a part in it. I had a tri-fold lawsuit against a once-high-profile video dating club, who wanted to prevent litigation by thoroughly discrediting me. And I had a very virulent and hateful foe...

*The "Church" of SCIENTOLOGY.

The Assignment
The stitched gauze blistering upwards
Warts & ***** matter slithering up the arm
An enigmatic stench of mortality
Solomon in scrubs
A Djinn infected with humility
Wandering for what
Digging up a severe lack of confidence
Entombed with proprietary nuance
Dressed for an exodus
To undermine the decadence
Content, maggots wrapped in hair
Showering the idea of significance
Coiling comparatively, larvae in womb
Tetragrammaton, the seal of metatron
Electroencephalograms, gloved hands and air dripping
Formless in essence, an opaque blur

You are a child, you have no right
No right to reject prophecy, no right
No right to lead us with ink on hand
A town alive
Ushering in sinusoid delirium
The rapture will commence the rebirth
Those who seek utopia
Nor good or evil
Ordo ad chao
Consequential matrice of paradise
Lattices vibrate in sympathy
Sacrament, a doppelganger of truth
Embodied in a pool of white noise
Partials of static, collected
Rotting on my tongue like heaven's night
Standing figures of choked brimstone
******* skin into a wounded mouth
A wish house inhabited with flesh
Reflections to nowhere incubating adolescence
Jack-knifing a model of self
Into an abstract quartz of emotion
Faltering into fog, electric supplements of truth
Journals to which I find delusion

We belong here
Torturing an empty casket
Looking for acceptance, emptied happiness
Drowning in a temporary penance
Cubic zealots anchoring abhorrance
Undermine an attempt at the vessel
Wilting morbidly toward surfeiting iron
Lashed off walls like flaked skin
Encapsulating ***** in infection
meandering amongst godflesh
Bones torn from sockets
The lens to see the chandelier
Climbing into unlocked houses
Settling in amongst the precious

The smashed memories
Porcelain teeth
Pruned fingers & moulded hands
Halo of the sun
An alternative to consciousness
Stumble around the alphabet
Introduce geometry
And let madness interfere
Beothuks & Wynn
Clawing at my mind
Chapels magic, sacred
Symmetry, gentle effortless life
Rogue, effortless entanglement
Mansions painted in nostalgia
Dripping with molluscs
Heralding the other circles
Drawn in red, repulsion

Blue, reversal and probing in my mind
You're not here
Tender sugar, sacred salt
Gyromancy of soaking light
Slaves to perdition
Fingernails dipped in platelets
Haemorrhaging tension
An autumn in fog
Caution is caustic
Melting through your cheek
Revelation, concentrate spectrum
Palace hated acetate in youth

(For one)
I don't want
(to know more of)
the way seconds never cease colliding into
(something, either external or internal to)
others in a rippling shimmer of
(the consciousness, is)
moments that never possess the finality
(a divine madness of quantification.)
which we cry of to
(The Ego, who comparatively weighs)
others in re-tellings of
(self against anything not defined by)
our lives. This
(the chemical current of self-awareness,)
is a truth too often refused
(in accepting such divine madness)
from our emotional responses
(begins a spewing tornado of self deterioration)
to physical objects
(as the universe which contains self)
and our fluctuating position
(begins to fully exist.)
to them. Yet, in that
(As the universe is more fully known)
i live in a continual agony
(by constructs of the conscious self,)
which knows not the ceasing satisfaction of
(the increasingly perceived universe, which begins to outweigh)
the total fulfillment of
(constructs of self,)
a singularity of identity in space and time,
(makes existence appear impossible)
are the screams of my eternality.

Oh
No
You
Don't

Won't
Need
Your
Drink

I'm just fine
I spend the long nights
In an intimate dance
Touching myself
Comparatively,
You're not interesting

How
Dare
You
Buy

How
Dare
You
Scheme

What about me?
What about me?