Musing. Light travels faster than sound… so I guess I’m not the first or last to realize I should be able to see something before I hear it? Of course, it’s all relative…

Memory is the feeling of a time snapped into motionless

Memory is a silent phrase we see in a flash of organic

Memory still us for a fraction of our being from where we sit,

 stand or move through empty canvas.

It is not a trapped goal or a bright flare of mercy, but

a subtle blank slate of hard wired molecules in an

electric charge that excited you to action

You can activate your memories by testing the thoughts that

haunt the dreams you have at night,

You can form a memory by instilling a smile of thanks into

a willing recipient.

You can erase a memory by choosing to ignore the

implications of it.

Your memories are collected in a porcelain

cup with a broken handle.

It’s moments like these I always feel like there is some sort of immense symbolism I should be respecting within myself.

It’s June 26th, 12:16 AM. I am alone aside from two family dogs who are sleeping somewhere nearby. The family is away, and only away for a reason, a good one.

I feel like I should have something to say, but I don’t really, because I am just holding out for the same safety that we’ve been afforded all along. I write to nobody in particular, but June 26th is a pretty important day to a dozen or a half, perhaps a dozen and a half, or one half and six of another… regardless, the moment is still in development.

What to do. The music is ominously eerie, the sounds are dissipated and all there is to notice is the tapping of these keys on this computer. It stirred one of the dogs, and I decide that I need some blue light. Daniel, Shalysa, and what I have temporarily termed my alibi, you will seemingly have more than just me in common.

I am reminded of the scene in the movie Rent, Christmas eve. A bohemian revolution, a party – after party – after riot – caused a riot – terms.

I will post a writing about Memory.

 

I wrote one little piece today to keep my mind busy while I challenged myself through the afternoon lull. Thanks for reading.

https://technoverte.com/captivated-by-spacial-arrangement

I saw you today, in the supermarket – in front of the fresh2go and deli..

My heart sinks everytime I see you. I cry thinking about it.

It started today, May 4th, 2018.

I had been up, a little manically, developing my thoughts for what would be my first foray into the public domain. There is no picturesque way to put it, it had been suggested to me that my writing should go into the public domain – so I did what any self-respecting person would do – I purchased a public domain. This one. Technoverte.com.

I have been writing already, quite frequently, actually, but primarily to one person. Myself. So last night, without a dream, I “woke up” and started to think, okay. It’s been a long time. You’ve got a lot of good ideas. Why not take the advice and actually start writing for two people. Me, and you.

Over the course of the next few weeks, spanning into a year (as that’s how long I have purchased this domain for at present), I want to bring to light a small glint as to who I am, and what I have been doing. I have a lot of projects on the go. I have been keeping a sporadic journal, tending to my health, but have recently been let go from my primary place of employment. I’m still searching for employment, but for today, I am beginning to write to let go of some of the past and bring to light the musings of a person, a whole person, who is ready to restart. I will start my blog with a quote from myself, which is also the tagline to the site:

“Pitter, patter, insert, delete. I think handwriting has become obsolete.”

With a pathetic fallacy to it, it is actually raining in my area of residence today. On my travels to where I am now, I narrowly avoided demise by jumping out of the way of a turning car. The car stopped, shortly thereafter, and with their window withdrawn, I heard: “Sorry!” to which I gave the short beginnings of forgiveness; a simple “Yeah!”.

The truth is greater than that, but let’s start with this post today.

I welcome you to read some of my musings, articles, notes and thoughts, but I have chosen to remain anonymous. “Technoverte” was a call name I once used, an alias, and I will continue to use it, as I think it demonstrates an experience I can relate to. An approach to science and technology. I truly value the art, the faith, the study, and the rigor attached to developing and becoming the people we are today using the tools of yesterday and tomorrow.

• Technoverte Clearwaters

Ironically, math is not that challenging. However, focusing under pressure is. My second article is posted under pretence.

https://technoverte.com/with-musical-influence

While I started the foundations for something, the first post was

When the psych ward seems normal,
And becomes your hotel,
That’s when you know,
You have stories to tell.

Today is going to be the best day of my life.
I’ll tell you when.
The reason I’m writing today is more serious that that tone could ever amount to. I find that the longer I try to see what I do know, the more I crave to see what I am lacking. Begging the question “what am I waiting for,” I guess the answer is “nothing”. I’m not waiting at all, actually, just surviving today on what amounts to the works of a change in the atmosphere agreeable with the meanings of surreptitious mountaintop hollering “I am knowing of my infallibility and recognize that I am actually fallible.”
Where I choose to ride along with my thoughts, it does cause me to feel like I am somewhere, deep down, quite mad. Time flies by at an alarming pace. It’s an epitome of the source of all someone yearns for: “slow down the rate at which I am aging”.
While I don’t often give in to the soulless days of signalled truth, I do find I am quite apprehensive to the traits of the dreams I am chasing. Simply put, I am giving in to those dreams. I know that I am chasing something, soulless or otherwise, to stop the endless wandering I feel when falling through the gaps of minutes passing.
You might wonder how these itineraries amount to where I am today. I wouldn’t dare put the experiences I have had to a lower standard than those who, while curious, truly don’t understand sometimes my stance on life.
There is no means to give up my “sins” today. Even though I attribute most of my folly to the things I have done, my experiences tend to dictate that all we feel is a camera lens focused microscopically on our and my words of today, and tomorrow. Will I change further, when put behind the flames of the choices made in desire and ease of repetition? I wish it wasn’t so, but today it is true that tonight, I will be gone from the troubles of today, and tomorrow the day will come, the day that will be, as earlier stated, the best day of my life. If only it would stay.
I fight the break of dawn, because those survival mechanisms have taught me that tomorrow’s worry will be the same as yesterday and thereafter – will I be gone tomorrow? Will I exist behind the mask that I wear each day, or is this silence through my head ever going to count for the words I have said over and over: “I will get better”?
Perhaps there are more questions here than answers – every sky above knows my heart through the clouds of it’s vastness miles. There’s a future in prayer, and candles are waiting for the match to light them. You can’t stay here in silence, but you also can’t expect it to tell you that the voice will leave you alone for more than the speechless days could amount to in your future.
Everything can be different if you do it better than you wanted to, but we all know the end of the story. We’ve heard enough of the straight steered horses to see that there is a pleasure in betting on the winning one. Perhaps the game is this, how long can you go before you decide to cool off and realize your worth, instead of just riding straight out of the troubles without ever having to look back?
Some people are naturally drawn to different talents. Some think they are visionaries, some believe in a greater good for themselves and others, and these people have gotten to where they are because they sought a similar goal as you. You will get there too. It’s a cold place when you’re just escaping the sleepless nights and dreary mornings with nothing more to your name than the name itself. But you’ll be alright.
I’m going to end this note with a toast to yesterday’s items collected in a dusty box – out of the dark, and into the light, when the time comes to change, you will. You may still be the same.

Either way, I love you.