#i think once i can stop binding for good forever i'll be just like shadow the hedgehog when he takes off his bracelets/anklets

[moe-broey]

I called myfcuking . Doctor

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash​ @jamies-kpop-reactions​

Chapter 16: Live in the Light

When I tiptoe into Lucas's room shortly after the break of dawn, handwritten novel in hand, I expect to find him fast asleep in a cocoon of blankets. Instead, I find him laying on the floor, bare chest and stomach flat against the hardwood and ear pressed to the air vent. His hair is blown wild. His eyes are wide and staring through me like he knows he has been caught up to no good, but he does not flinch away from the vent or sit upright or offer any explanation for his behavior. 

As I close the door quietly, feeling that silence is of utmost importance, I ask, "What are you doing?" Mostly, I want to know why he is awake; I had been looking forward to shaking him awake and interrupting his sleepy grumbling to boast that I stayed up all night writing a book (!!!!), a permanent account of this time in our lives. 

Lucas hisses, "Hush!" and brinks his index finger up to his puckered lips. "I'm trying to hear." 

"Hear what?" I almost ask even though I suspect the answer. 

Lucas keeps talking even though he is trying to hear. "You know, I was kinda pissed when Mom dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn to talk about dating rules or whatever, but at least she woke me up in time to hear this!" 

Lucas makes room for me on the floor, and I obey his gesture to fill the space. He is wearing that smug grin that he always wears when gossiping— the grin that is now almost exclusively reserved for teasing me about Taemin. 

Although I guessed that Lucas was eavesdropping on Taemin's meeting with Mom before I dropped onto my knees to lower my ear to the frozen vent, my heart swells at the sound of his voice. 

"I'm in love with her," Taemin is saying plainly, casually, comfortably, confidently. My first thought is that I have never spoken with such ease and that I likely never will; then, my fingers trace the binding of my story, and I remember that my time is coming. 

Taemin slips into last night's anxious rhythm. Sounding very much like me as his voice wavers, Taemin continues, "I have never tried to be a bad influence. I didn't mean to keep our love locked in the dark. I want to bring it into the light. It's just—" Taemin sighs— "It's hard when something is born under the moon. Lei is a lot smarter than me. She thinks a lot more than me. So I probably should have believed her when she first told me that someone is always watching. She was right. She is right." 

All at once, it occurs to me that I have never wanted to be right. Especially not about that. Especially when I am just repeating something that somebody else told me— that somebody else taught me. 

Lucas slings an arm around my shoulders. His skin burns mine through my pajamas. Maybe he thinks that he is holding me together, but I know that I am not falling apart. I'm just frowning. I'm just a little disappointed by certain facts of life. 

"If I knew some way to love her out in the open, I would," Taemin promises. "I try. Sometimes, I think I've made some kind of breakthrough. I think I've brought us to some place without shadows. But I just— I haven't." 

"You have," I want to argue. I bite my tongue, though, because it is not my turn to speak. I have spoken to the insecurities Taemin has entrusted to me, and only Mom can speak to those he entrusts to her. Greedily, selfishly, I want all of Taemin to myself— even the parts that he would probably rather hide.

Suddenly, it hits me. I shouldn't be listening to this. I was not invited to this conversation. Yet, I cannot walk away. I have to hear how Mom responds. 

Taemin keeps rambling. "I'm sorry that I snuck into your house. I'm sorry I ruined your perception of me. I'm sorry that—" 

To interrupt his spiral, to catch him like he caught me in the garden, Mom gently says, "Taemin." 

When I close my eyes to lose myself in her voice, I can almost see her reaching across the table to pat his hand or trace her fingers along my ribbon around his wrist. She probably recognizes it instantly now that she sees it up close. She picked it out. 

"As your manager, I have to know things like this to protect you. You understand how your professional reputation could have suffered if the press ran a story about you and Lei while I was completely unprepared, don't you?"

Lucas and I stiffen and huddle together to share warmth and confidence as we hear Taemin swallowing the lump in his throat. Through a cough, Taemin assures her, "Yes, ma'am. I understand. I'm sorry." 

"And surely I don't have to point out how dangerous it is for you to climb in and out of that window every night," Mom probably frowns at her. Worry probably etches a line into her forehead between her eyebrows. "And I do assume that climbing in through the window to Lei's room is an every night ordeal." 

Taemin is not a liar, so he does not try to convince Mom that she has assumed incorrectly. "No, ma'am," he mumbles, probably through a pout. "You don't have to point that out." 

"Good. Now, as Lei's Mother—" 

Mom sighs as she switches one persona for another. Lucas, Taemin, and I hold our breath. What Mom says as my mother is far more valuable than what she says as our manager. As proven by her departure with Super Junior, she is not always a manager, but she is forever my Mom. 

"I don't want you to hide your love for Lei. Ever. And I am sorry if I have ever said or done anything to make you think that you had to hide from me." 

Taemin and I interrupt at the same time to blurt, "You didn't." 

But Mom continues, probably smiling fondly, probably hearing me. "I want you to love her out loud. I know that you can't do that on every street or under every light. I understand that; I promise. I never made my debut, but it is not hard for me to imagine how suffocating it must be to look around every corner. I want you to feel free to breathe in these walls. There should be no shadows here. There should be only shade, and that means no more sneaking through the window!" 

Mom's laughter, I imagine, paints Taemin's face scarlet. Mom's laughter, I know, sculpts identical toothy grins into my face and Lucas's. Lucas crushes me with a hug while Mom says, "That means walking through the front door and making yourself at home!" 

Because Mom knows Taemin strictly in a professional setting, she might not expect him to take her invitation to heart. Like Lucas before him, and Heechul before Lucas, Taemin will make a permanent residence in our house. Should either of us ever hope to be free from him, we will be disappointed to learn that life without him is dull or gray or nonexistent. Taemin will touch everything, make his mark on everything, and nothing— nothing will ever be as it once was. 

I will never again be as I once was. 

"Okay," Taemin says so sweetly that I can feel him smiling. His smile melts my heart into a puddle on Lucas's floor. There's no point in trying to mop it up. He promises Mom, "I'll make you happy that your Lei is in love with me."

Mom promises him in a voice as warm as the morning sun, "I am already happy." 

And I almost push through my trembling fear of change to cheer into the vent that I am happy too.  

Following Mom’s call, I walk into the kitchen where she stands, breathing into an orange cup of coffee that fogs the lenses of her glasses. She sets the cup on a coaster when I lay my notebook on the marble island. She stares down at the notebook, the notebook stares up at her, and because there is little anyone can say to an inanimate object, Mom raises her eyebrows. 

“What’s that?” She asks as her manicured hand reaches for the book. 

I can’t explain why I swipe the book away. I can’t explain why I hug it against my chest except to say, well, It’s Mine. 

I answer, “These are my prepared remarks,” through a tense, embarrassed, blushing sort of smile. The sort of smile I would usually reserve for anyone at the agency who isn’t my mother. “And I have to read them to you, or else they won’t sound right.” 

Mom’s head goes aslant. “You— you prepared a statement as if this were an agency meeting?” Something in her voice sounds hurt. 

“No,” I reply instantly. My tone is initially blunt, flat, offended by the misunderstanding, but my voice brightens as it explains, “This is a conversation between a Mother and Daughter. Me and You. This—” I raise the notebook so it almost conceals all of my blushing face— “Is a record of everything I want to remember, everything I can never forget, everything I was born to tell you.” 

Drawing a deep breath, I condition, “But this won’t work if we wear our masks. This won’t work if I tell you as Lei, the idol, and you listen as Kimberly, the manager, or as Kimberly, the idol who never debuted. We— we have to share this experience as Lei and Mom, the people bonded by the universe.” 

Do I sound too authoritarian? Too strict? Bossy? 

After pushing her fogged glasses up past her hairline, Mom looks at me. She has to squint to make out my features. Most likely, I am still blurry, but I don't smile to be seen. I smile because I just want to smile for her. 

“Okay, baby.” She rounds the island to cup my cheek in her palm. Her skin has always been so soft, so warm. Exactly what you would expect her touch to feel like. The kind of touch that could piece together a shattered flower in the garden. 

Feeling under-dressed in my pajamas now that Mom stands before me in a white collared shirt and black slacks, I laugh. “Was I supposed to dress up?” I stop just short of asking if Taemin dressed up only because it is not time to say his name. 

Mom steps back to take in my appearance. “Well, it wouldn’t have killed you to change out of the pajamas you wore to dinner last night, Lei.” Her red-painted lips curl into a smirk as her hands raise to straighten the collar of my shirt. “I guess you’re not eager to change out of Taemin’s shirt, though, huh?” 

My cheeks tingle, and my smile grows, and my heart swells, and butterflies rage through my stomach, and I fall even deeper into the sky, far, far, far past the clouds and stars, at Taemin’s name. Catching Mom around the wrist, knowing that my touch is not soft or warm, I confess, “I’m in love with him,” because that is all I have ever wanted to say. “I am in love with Taemin. I never believed that I would get to meet him or work with him. I never believed that I would give him my ribbon or that I would give him my heart, but I think I must have dreamt about it all those nights I fell asleep listening to his voice through the radio.” 

Mom looks like me when she wants to cry. Her fingers lace through mine. If I was falling apart— if I was crumbling under the moon— she would hold me together. “I knew I recognized that ribbon!” She smiles. “When did you give it to him? And why? And why does he wear it like a bracelet?” 

“Honestly, I can’t believe he didn’t tell you about it. That ribbon is his favorite thing to brag about.” My cheeks burn and ache as my smile broadens. “I’ll tell you. It’s all in here, in this book. I— I can’t wait to read it to you.” 

Mom’s free hand reaches out for the notebook again, but only so her fingers can trace the letters I wrote on the front. The title. For You. 

“For You,” she mutters under her breath. Her lips quiver. She is going to cry; maybe not right now, but she will cry soon. “Who is ‘You’?”

Mom’s watering eyes have formed a lump in my throat. It hurts to squeeze words past the lump, but I force them through anyway. I know I’m strong enough. I know that these words will not hurt me. Not forever, anyway. Not in a bad way. Not in a way that scars. A necessary pain. Growing pain. 

“‘You’ is everybody I’ve ever wanted to be honest.” My voice is hoarse. “‘You’ is Taemin, and Donghae, and Lucas, and Sehun, and Baekhyun, and myself, and Grandma, and myself, and— most of all, ‘you’ is you, Mom. Every word in this— I wrote all of them for you so that you might understand me in my own words. That’s how much I love you: I want to share all of myself with you.” 

Mom is stepping closer to the verge of tears, but the stability of her voice could fool anybody into believing otherwise. “That’s how much I love you: I live to hear every word you have ever thought.” 

Before I can start to cry before the story has begun, Mom squeezes my hand. She makes me strong enough to remember that tears are not a sign of weakness. Tears are a form of self-expression, a way to release what we can no longer hold on to and carry. 

“How long is this story going to be?” Mom asks. “Should we sit on the couch in the living room?”

I admit, “It’s kind of long. I was up until 4 o’clock writing it.” Laughing at the thought of Lucas panicking beside his vent upstairs, I say, “Lucas is listening through the vent in his room, though, and he won’t be able to hear us if we talk in the living room. His heart will be broken, and I am not in the business of hurting Lucas.” 

Lucas does not give me or Mom the chance to draw the shallowest breath before he bellows, “WAIT FOR ME, I’LL BE RIGHT DOWN!”

The closest I come to protesting, which is not close at all, is screaming at an equal volume, “PUT A SHIRT ON, LUCAS! Nobody wants to see you in the nude!” 

Because he is tangled in a tight black shirt that blinds him, Lucas stumbles over several steps at the bottom of the staircase. Thankfully, he is tall enough to land on his feet at the last possible second. The moment his head emerges through the shirt, his tongue darts out at me. “I betcha never tell Taemin to put a shirt on!” 

Mom laughs. She never corrects Lucas’s bratty behavior at home. It makes me sick. 

I resist the urge to retort that I have only seen Taemin shirtless one (1) time because a.) I don’t want to spoil any of the story for Mom, and b.) Lucas will somehow psychically know that I hadn’t told Taemin to put his shirt on. Lucas always knows what I wish he would never find out; he probably knows that I am wearing the shirt discarded during that New Year’s strip rock-paper-scissors game. It’s just by some miracle that he hasn’t blurted it out. 

“If you’re gonna stay down here, Lucas, you can’t interrupt to say anything stupid!” I roll my eyes as if there is even the tiniest part of me that wants him to be absent from the first reading of my story. Realizing that there is no way he will be able to hold his tongue for the full duration of the story, realizing that I don’t want Lucas to feel at all unwelcome, I decide, “I will break between chapters for commentary.”

“Fine,” Lucas agrees. He snatches the post-it note magnet from the refrigerator and announces, “I’ll write my commentary so I don’t forget anything I want to say. But you have to promise that you’ll publish my notes with the finalized novel!” 

My mouth opens to argue that I have absolutely no intention of publishing such a personal manuscript, but I catch the words before they fall out. The day could too easily be squandered in an argument with Lucas, and I want to finish telling the story before Taemin bursts through the front door with his whole suitcase or something. 

“Whatever, Lucas,” I sigh as I lead Mom into the living room by the hand. “Just make sure you write legibly.” 

COMMENTARY BY LUCAS WONG

Chapter 1: 

Lei is HOT with short hair!

Mom told us not to end up like the idol who never debut, but she (!!!!!) was the idol who never debuted all along!!!! Sneaky!!!!

Mom DID look hot in that pantsuit! Tbh though Mom looks hot in everything

Lei kept getting distracted by Taemin’s laugh bc she was in LOVE all ALONG!!!

bro, shindong is always starting some shit

How could we not tell that Mom and Donghae were in love the whole time???

Kai was so annoying that day on set, but at least I got to be in that subunit! 

Wait, imagine if TAEMIN had been in the subunit though… that would be hot… note to self: convince Mom to debut Lei x Taemin subunit— puppy eyes maneuver

How the HELL did Baek know that Mom is the idol who never debuted? He’s so suspicious… note to self: keep an eye on Baek

Chapter 2: 

Don’t be lonely, Lei!!! I’m here!

Man, I really did try to save Lei from Baek’s kidnapping plot

Lei’s really that weak for Baek’s smile? Sounds sus… note to self: keep an eye on Lei

Yeah, Ten IS conniving

Yeah, I AM cute by coincidence, fate, AND nature

Taemin’s not a mystery to me, dude, and he KNOWS he’s had you wrapped around his finger since day one 

Man, i’m so glad Kai likes Lei now. For a minute there, I thought we were gonna have to fight or something

So THAT’S what she and Taemin talked about by the lake!!!

Lei’s thing for Jaemin was, is, and always will be disgusting. Don’t ship it. 

The Ice Incident hahahahahahhaa

Real funny how Lei never liked my cuddles, but she can’t sleep without Taemin

So THAT’S what Kai said to Lei on the pier!

[Editor’s Note: This is all of Lucas’s written commentary. Onward from Chapter 3, the chapter about Donghae’s birthday party, Lucas sat silently perched on the edge of his seat and listened to the rest of the story, crying when he was compelled to cry (usually by Ms. Kim’s tears), laughing when he was compelled to laugh (usually by Ms. Kim’s laughter), and generally drowning in pride and admiration for his best friend, who had expressed herself most genuinely.]

By the time I close the notebook, throat tight and sore from speaking for so long and resisting the urge to cry, neither Mom nor Lucas is looking at me. Their gazes are fixed on the floor. Mom still strokes the back of my head, though, so I do not feel unnerved by the silence. 

Finally, Lucas breaks the silence when he demands to know, “Well, what happens next?” 

As I gawk at him, unaware of how to explain the concept of time and the unpredictability of the future, Mom softly says, “Lucas, honey, we’re all caught up with the present. Lei wrote about the past. Unless she wants to start making things up, or unless she starts having psychic visions, the story is over. At least for now!”

“Oh.” Lucas’s lips press into a pout. His eyes widen and glitter as they meet mine. “That was the best story ever!” He runs over to crush me with a hug. “Promise you’ll write more! Please!”

I glance desperately at Mom, quietly urging her to tell Lucas to get off, but she says no such thing. Wiping at the few remaining tears in her eyes, she agrees, “It was really good. Writing seems therapeutic for you. Maybe you should keep making time to journal, even if you don’t share your work with anybody.”

Finally, Lucas releases me and collapses at my side. As I nod at Mom’s advice, I think that there is no way I could ever keep my writing to myself ever again. Maybe I won’t read it in public. Maybe I will never share myself with strangers. Maybe I won’t publish it under my name or at all. But there is no shortage of people to share my words with: Grandma, Mom, Donghae, Lucas, Taemin. 

Gradually, or maybe all at once, I will trust them with everything. 

I think that’s what it means to live in the light. 

[sporadicpatternsmasher-blog]

folded ontology...

There's consequences in all we say and do Go forward and walk your walk and I'll go ahead and talk my talk Quite distraught due to the fact that you're too good to be true I know that the Lord of Accord will be following me like my shimmering shadow wherever I walk I will walk and walk And I will talk my talk I will practice what I preach To the pupils, I will teach Pensive propositions is my speech's mission Honor and think through Constructive criticism Cleverly-written composition begin to slightly transition Take correction not for granite...with optimism that is symmetrical like a puny prism Free-spirited I long to be With you as long as I thrive to wondrously live I want to flee and be set free Let go and have consideration to generously give Be anxious for nothing Love all and do your thang God's spirit is available to us 24/7 I always make my way to 7-eleven Doing away with the latter days of my lament Live in the present of yesterday's tomorrow My mind constantly whirls around like a hurricane near the beach and tornado in the east side of the United States - my mind is cozy in God's tent Repenting slowly, but surely until sorrow is a healing scar that flies away in recovery like a splendid, spunky sparrow Hooking up problems I need to fix At least I don't receive a million kiks Tweet me, Facebook me, tumblr me...insta me...younow me... But I'll still be lonely as can be Fruit of the spirit drives me to drift away from deception's flow that's broad and deceiving Faithful and loyal with dignity and positivity is what I crave in my character of behave-and-be-brave... Self-control braces itself upon my inner being and I accept it kindly Patience paints a picture of peace in the frame of my mind silently Human nature Is enmity to God that is evil and impure It leads to death I'm sure God's way - the way of life at least in my humble opinion, which will be a fact in the near future It's okay to be different It's alright to be working on perfection As long as you repent For all the downfalls and sins we've committed that gave you inner infection Reveal to me His spirit and the life it produces fruitfully Zealous is the sun that shines upon me oh so dutifully Gracious be to the sons and daughters of Him who has made the world so beautifully Until Satan tainted it with sinister avarice and insidious, chaotic catastrophe Quit your disputes and quarrels and arguing alike Stop trolling people on the net...or you'll have something to regret Listen to instruction Accept correction You choose destruction or construction Do you want His amazing affection or His raging rejection!!? Foundation of faithfulness Goes to the called ones in God's family alone and He is the Father we look upon Obliteration of misery's mess Come on and follow me...I will be your responsible leader from now on I want knowledge from God From on high, not down below in Satan's Despising Nature People just ignore and nod Approach people in the nicest way and react, act and think good thoughts and good actions and interactions that are grown-up and mature Need I proclaim my beliefs to all the world, Lord? Should I explain myself constantly? What's my award? Reward? What if I commit sins that I can't afford? I hoard shame in my brain basement, but you played skillfully on the I-forgive-you keyboard There's a reason behind what God does Do not remain blind or deaf The spirit of stupor is splendid to my human nature....and its faithless flaws I don't understand your plate's creativity, my chill chef God selects His special chosen one He sees the nature and character of each and everyone He is the guide to everlasting life that's full of blessings and miracles But, my life is full of depression dungeons and mysterious black holes Eat Christ's flesh and drink His blood of His Father's Wise Sayings and Life-giving Word You must abstain from lusts of your gullible, heartless hearts and your prayers will be heard If you don't believe and betray Him for life, Your life will end in jaded death and strife I wish I can declare His Word to all nations But I get nervous and soft-spoken beyond frustrations and heightened hesitations I'm awkward... Why was I called in His church? Am I a bird that has nowhere to truly rest and perch? Predicaments in double trouble dilemmas substantially produce like cells in the body Free me, heal thee, I die for you to live...I live for you to die...your hard heart makes my softness wither with everybody Wide and broad are the path of many in this world of woe...and no one fully knows why Difficulty be to the few who choose the narrow route that leads to constructive criticism by Lotd Most High Once saved, always saved - A belief originated in Christianity I beg to differ - His saving grace has waved Its effortless goodbye to Human's Atrocity Labor in prayer, don't swelter Work in love, sweat off hate and swear not Be a giver, not a getter Resist the urge to sin and persevere always, even in the darkness we rot Discipline yourself Through enduring self-control Unlearn Satan's nature, as small as an elf Compared to God's Giant Word that is a life tool to be rid of the fool inside us as a whole Doing evil will have its aftershocks sting us like a viper It will shoot us down, so bite the bullet of the serpent's sniper I pray that I live in sanctuary city for the time being I envy the happy-go-lucky and dislike what I'm seeing Drinking in the Lord's yoke, Mixed with the Words He spoke You bind me with a biggo blind fold Your spirit's intention is to simply scold Faithful Moses parted the Red Sea Miracles and curses shelter thee I never knew that my life was of significance Until I noticed that everyone is living in ignorance Except the called ones... Faith that weigh a trillion tons Thank God for everything good His word is a nourishing food Emerge from the scorching coals and ice fire of your existence Transform yourself before you remain in ashes' realm...seek repentance The good news of the Kingdom of God is ringing in my ears Wondering when it will be that day of awesome forever years I will walk and walk And I will talk my talk I will practice what I preach To the pupils, I will teach Fret not the desires on fire and the passionate petitions of your young heart Do not worship other gods before Him - Frey will fade away from the start The gods of the east have come to get their revenge towards the gods of the east The battle between them is beast...it's like enjoying a feast of chaos and commotion and peace and emotion...but their attitudes puff up like the bread ingredients that includes yeast Inspired by (Matt. 7:13), (Matt. 11:29) and (Hebrews 11:24)

Imagine we live in an eco-normative story

of competing for wealth-commodities, cash piled in quantifiable currencies, collectively blinded to our Win-Win natural economic, ecological, psychological, biological health and well-being value roots. One day, our Permacultural Received View unveils a co-operatively synergetic evolution of positive health and articulation of mutual subsidiarity-- natural laws of economic and political and psychological and biological health and survival through thrival Permacultural Design, (and Taoist, and Buddhist, and JudeoChristian, and Islamic, and UU, and Sikh, and Hindu, with Ecological Wealth objectives defining spiritual principles, procedures, ethics laws of co-operative solidarity, co-passionate peace with ecojustice for all, mutually subsidiary freedoms to live full healthy lives balanced with freedom from dying deadly unhealthy deaths. Oh, yes! this feels familiar somehow. This appositionally poignant permaculture spectrum originates with the emptiness of winter's purgation, death, to evolve bio-systemically toward, to incarnate as to inform, to revolve full cycle to incorporate the opposite end of life's spectrum, not mere half-assed egocentric and anthrocentric competitive life, but fully sustainable health and well-being wealth from now through our grandchildren's grandchildren, and all their several cousins of diversely rainbowed and sensually intelligent holonic RNA/DNA-encrypted encrypting, predicting, forms with functional memory eco-logical species, bio-logic information processor systems, bicamerally fully conscious. We reverse our Left-brain dominant economic overshoot! Yeah us! As our cognitive disconnection from our own permacultural story evaporates, this confusion about measuring wealth with money rather than with sustainable, ecological health, about-faces toward inclusively co-operative survival of the most synergetically interdependent systems, evolving, positive deviant psychologizing new economizing healthy wealth, rather than BusinessAsUsual industry, pursuing toxic short-term Win-Lose evolutionary designs and plans for exponential development; collective worship of Left-brain dominant Ego-theism rather than continuing our pilgrimage toward Left-Right bicameral mutual governing equivalence values following a nutritional thrival trail back to our Original Big Bang ProGenitor, TransParent Pre-Temporal Timing of our Elder Right lens back through nutritional enculturing transparently binomial, time's core spinal prime-fold, erupting solid massively dense formation out informing polyculturing functions, flow streams, frequency intervals fractal seasonal revolving rhythms of radiantly Bi(0)-versive Exodus of Love's enlightening Time. When we choose healthy co-operative survival optimization by starving competition to accumulate wealth deposits, we will address stealth impoverishment, now feverishly hiding within un-consciousness of economically and politically and ecologically violating Golden Rules that advocate health and sustainable hope for all Earth's Grandchildren; the pan-ultimate measure of a culture's true wealth is its mutually balanced positive through double-negative nutritional feedback loops, seeking our Zero-Sum Co-Operatively Healthy Win-Win Eco-Normic Game Plan. Polynomial Power sustainably optimizes where monomial center trends toward Universal Co-Passion, healthy fulsome fusing flows and frequently reiterated functional patterns of HereNow TransParent Bicameral Consciousness, Ego as SoleSubject greets and mutually bows toward Eco-Logical WeSelf-as-SuperEco's Objective, Correlational, Co-incident, Bi-Nomially Permaculturally Balancing Time's 3-dimensional bodymind Space, Place, Pace of unfolding polyculturing Beloved Community Memory and ReDevelopment. PermaCulturists, like messianic shamans of all times and cultures, steward natural systems with a mutual-mentoring premise. Our Host Environment, EcoSystem, is both our Subject in the present moment and our Objective reconnecting toward a shared cooperative future, inclusive of all endogenous natural systems, species, air and water flows, sun and shadow glows. This SuperEco ProGenitor Hosts and Teaches through Elder Memory synchronicity. First, permaculturing prophets and alchemists listen requiring the purgation of Ego- and Anthro- Dominance; recovering EcoCentrism confluent with all SpaceTime balance and harmonies, flows with positive and negative functions, ionic frequencies, ironic humors cognitive dissonance too often hiding psychological dynamics striving for comprehensively balanced Eco-Consciousness, Eco-Zero-Centrism and Balance, as EcoLogical BioJustice Economics and CoOperative Governance. Bicamerally Left-Right confluent con-science brings sustainable healthy wealth of RNA-rooted memory systems. Bicameral Binomial-Consciousness emerges as human nature's cooperative stewardship our co-mentoring vocation, Commons-space syntax shared with equal rights by all Earth's Natural Systems. EgoCentrism is eisegetically held as good and normal and appropriate only as long as AnthroCentrism remains Left-brain Dominant, continues economically incarnating through Win-Lose competitive assumptions rather than choosing permacultural models for EctoSymbiotic Polycultural Revolution. A Bodhisattva-Ego lives in cooperative service with SuperEco, Universally Thermodynamic Balanced (0)-Centric, 4-Prime Dimensional, bio- and eco-logical, caretaker and metric "PlaceHolder" Polyculturist within Earth's RNA-syntax Tribes, encultured fractal (0)-sum economically cooperative souls, blossom Beloved Economic Community in full "Climax", incarnating integrative positive trending economic development, as transmillennial revolution away from pursuing wealth, toward co-operative health as our ecological paradigm for dialogical and economically sustainable re-exodus toward wealth optimization with equivalent creative freedom for all, in Beloved co-passionate peace.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by

Gerald Dillenbeck

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Revolutionary Story

They called their gang The ReVolutionaries, my Father Sun and Mother Earth drew time with them, but they often called themselves Yang and YinYin, respectively and mutually respectful yet privately erotic, not so much politically and economically where Yang could not fit in for rabid competition and YinYin could not alone float her dipolar WinWin health-care priority boat. Where was I in my Creation Geneology, YinYin? Once again you did not get past much of a preliminary introduction, without me, Sugar Daddy Yang. Oh yes, Father Sun and Mother Earth got together co-gravitationally, first creating a nondual revolution out of spacetime's co-arising and revolving implied-fractal-seasoned syntax, natural systemic order of healthy evolution, as not-not pathologically dual-dark devolution, probably too much Yin-recessive in this Yang-dominant Creation Story. Even so, Father Sun with Mother Earth revolved their bilateral health potential. Then, next time you know, here you are, bangin around with too-dominant Left-brained Yang, slippin' in some wise ol' tough love, stirrin' up your Owl with your Moose Medicine for stronger regenerative tissue issues, still struggling between SunPowerLens and EarthFlowLens, primally RNA-balanced informating regenerative health and therapy relationship re-issues articulating as bicamerally climatic neural-temporal boundary tissue, or is it the other way? So confusing all this time travel appositional and dialectical health language, like RNA, pointing toward your lovely and always mindful DiPolar EcoPresence as HereNow Time in self-refining, reiteratively flowing, spring of love's rich nutritional water and incarnate soil, soul mating Heaven's fire warm photosynthetic transformational co-redemptively climaxing air of sweeping surfing elating Time's Full ReGenerate Occupation, living still within our TransParent Elders, of which we each share equal DNA/RNA neural-temporal regenerative-fractal Implicate-Concave Orders of rhythm and pattern and syntax, folding and unfolding, holonic-Holy Exegetical Syntax Scripture teleologizing enriching enculturing composting time's revolutionary health through TransParent CoOperating Golden Rule of Prime (0)-soul/soil, ego/eco, Interior/Exterior, Fractal PolyCultural Relationship. That's nice, Daddy Yang, having said all that, I'm wondering if I might add that as I most kindly remember, there are two sides to every Creation Story, one is Ego's Yang Exterior Universal view, while EcoOther YinYin echoes our Interior Landscape nondual co-arising love for empathic capacity as rich nutritional experience, co-elational syntax-voices of primal feeling and knowing Yang/Yin is healthier as LoseSome BusinessAsUsual to WinSome YinYin Tipping Point CoOperative Wisdom. Yet even this wu wei PostMillennial TaoZen Bicameral Hybrid Story is not the Fat Lady Death's Door final message you are fearing within YinYin's WinWin EcoRevolutionary 0-soul Creation Story of a bicamerally self-optimizing health and safety global network with local cooperative poli-economic communication guilds, nutrient 0-interest investment through implementation polycultural local ecosystemic-balancing glory, cooperating our WinWin Mutual PolyEnculturation Story. YinYin, namaste for your generous and kind-natured right-time reminder, to win dialogical Solitaire, not only does Yang Ego think therefore I Win, but nondual co-arising of Right-time's sequence and dialect syntaxed cards of Other cooperatively win this balancing fractal 4 spacetimed principle of steering co-gravitational positivity, implied predelivery doctors and progenitors of ReGenetic-Health Optimization Time, most sacred Positive BiCameral Psychology of more humane natural ecosystems, RNA-iconic as ionic, CoMessianic Cross with Tao-Time Universal Black full-diastatic and dipolar synaptic absorbs WhiteNoise Aptic EcoPresent TransParentcy, and vice versa with reverse-temporal imaging ecoconscious capacity. We are both GooeyRight and PricklyLeft more truly balanced as positive/negative deviant equity seekers, healthy optimizers ecotherapeutic lovers of peace with ecojustice, evolving an Ego/Eco Deductive/Inductive ConScience of BiNomial (0)-Centric 4D spacetime as our CoOperative Creation Story. Group Theory's Zero-bilateral symmetrical implied dipolar function as bilinear double-bound soul could be RealTime expressed: fold, unfold, refold, pregenitive full-4 revolutionary closure Byte-Fold Balance, inside-double-negative with outside double-boundaried dynamically revolving, waving-linear Tao-sign, principle of thermodynamic balancing dipolarity. PolyNomial ++ evolves WinWin equivalent to LoseLose (--) NotNot PolyNomial 4D spacetime prime 0-centric Origin Point of Language and Scripture toward future's (0)Mega Point Bicameral Creation Story as EcoPresent Now, our timeless invitation into full healthy love, life as co-empathic bicameral love-positive, restrained only by its absence, cognitive-affective neural informating health/pathology-dissonance, heading toward climatic long-term TransMillennial effects of chronic stress, sleep deprivation, overly competitive ecosystems of all paradigmatic and polymorphic varieties, and crappy nightmare claustrophobic death and dying dreams. Yang space flows through YinYin Time's Light as Time's syntaxed memory folds and unfolds, refolds and prefolds revolutionary ecosystemic transitions, emerging Full-PolyCultural Diastatically Elational Climaxing Beloved PolyPathic BiCameral Communicating Interior Landscaped LoveNow-EcoTherapySpace. Was that my Fat Lady YinYin? Now you know I am just right for you; you're the one getting too hefty for your own internal and external balancing capacity. Maybe I need more exercise. Maybe you need to get off me, and help me paddle... Did I say "paddle"? Yes, love I know, you mean to flow your Revolution Creation Story right through PostMillennial cooperative enculturation