A short story..

of species reality.

People dedicated to our species are willing to negotiate existence on planet earth…

A call to our species to rule over all dimensions of time space and matter. Periodic table had become a trade resource to spur economic reward of a voices desire to be heard. An economy that was family friendly with possibilities to walk planet earth as a sentient being..

A call was made among tribe elders of the culture around them.. Religion was invited, but they held no tangible proof that the forces of logic had compiled.. evidence of time space and matter had become more powerful than voice…

Of this sector of our civilization 3 contour levels of occupation had gathered. Flat landers of metropolis had become pawns of socialist to incite a revolt against economic disparity over corporate concerns which depended on numbers of imaginary clout would be enough to domesticate a species..

This contour level of sentient awareness is where most humans hang out at. Ignoring the signs of Dominance in affluence of those dedicated to exploitation.. Sky lines shadow across sun rays of light on growing beings of all species..

Innovations of technology thru application of knowledge with wisdom rushing mankind’s breath forward..

However, corporate influence of captivation did not begin at Walt Disney… it ended there on top of children’s minds. Abuse of color to format our species neurons into cartoons of reality.. sabotaging our youths ability to reach sentient awareness..

This is where I come in as a King Bishop pawn…

I came to earth as a resonance being that responded to the intrusions of the technology turned into death care by societal pharma industry.

Mind people think that ideology warfare is a myth because nobody told them what to do as a parent. Rules of culture had been abated with societal linkage with corporate and ties with government officials as poor people were a threat to globalist corporate pawns.

You know who they are, they hide behind safe areas where a roaming predator of voice is restricted through security measures as exploiters of our species, our instincts, our pheromones of conscious breath became short as black began to consume all colors of voice..

Calling Dr. Fauci.. please report to council of species elders into charges of species treason.. Either you come forth and supply a conscious reasoning for your involvement with covid 19, or face a color examination of binary and resonance wave of the foot hiller led by small businesses of artist crafts which belong at local celebrations of gait observation.

Scientist craft became infused with the reminder of the non disclosure statements they signed to earn imaginary money.. However some scientist came for as a discipline and made statements against the human equation that 1>0 is equal to the algorithm that corporate and government as a consumer of exploitation..

I am from the last contour of mountaineers and I came to fight under the color of love passion..

Cradle of cultures birth as recorded by time in the annals of truth. A story that spans generations of attitude and moods of toleration for those predators. Having found a logical reason for persecuting passion.. stealing hopes and dreams of civilization one by one. Starting with children as they are impressionable to infect with logic.

While adults had to deal with the concept that 0>1. Their minds laughed off the accusation that the number one is why our planet is at war. Along side the contour elevations being represented at campfires of species freedom..

She was gender hot of passion and did not like numbers of logic as kingside pawns eyed her beauty with hopes of making a legacy of family voice. But many queenside pawns wanted trust the number one for presage of less struggle to allow government to take care of their needs..

Gender warfare incited by socialist ideology to fight females who depend on capitalism. Most females believe 1>0. Our species pheromones began to wilt under observation of a council elder whose conscious has risen many stairs of perception to reach voice of perspective.

Perception voices are paid to infiltrate metropolis as even the homeless are paid to participate out of greed fed corporate. C.I.A. agents in America conducting ideological operations on the blood of fallen minuteman soldiers willing to end capitalisms tower of imaginary power to tax without representation of space..

Land of the free possibilities to hack it out on the periodic elements of voice opportunities to participate in possibilities where sentient people reside. Humans are satisfied with virtual reputations of thumb activity.

Having become a digital being dependent on linear language of logic..

Since ideology has crashed with technology the mind has made a sedative to easy conscious accountability to speaking words of life.. Voice had been crushed as all crafts had become entangled with corporate rules of exploitation. By law corporate was to be supported by investors who did not mind funding corporate endeavors to create generational repeat customers.

Feeding like cows on the field of cement ponds of metropolis flat landers… Foot hiller tended to tether logic to their colorful hot air balloons of voice passion potential..

Moms and dads encouraged young to be anything they wanted to be as long as they followed logic and believe that 1>0 but remembering that 0 is actually bigger than 1 where dreams are likely to die of heart brokenness..

Santa clause traditions of a well natured being to replace the only human being who knew and live in a relationship with everything that have breath… the creator Himself. (religious leaders took note as they began to file in as all religions wanted to voice their opinions about life.

Unfortunately they all believed 1>0. Even christians who claim to follow Jesus. Muslims countered with a meeting at the campfires of freedom with murder vest ready to detonate a shrapnel voice.. because they were convinced that shouting death words brings life to all cultures..

Black glasses to hide from the light of Jesus Christ which the gentiles recognized the pain of societal rule more than the Jewish population born from a promise of legacy..

All sectors of our species are their and queenside pawns as holders of power ruled the affairs of discussion as they were holders of nurture. Their pheromones began to fog the floor of discussion between logic and passion..

Act 7-Logic vs Passion

“White Wedding” Billy Idol

Logic early, passion already there. Fractions splat equations of Time, Space, and Matter. Passion’s intent, substance aware of a number sucker punch. Pissed off, ready to fuckin kick asssss....

Logic- “You need me, couldn’t survive 5 minutes without me. Untamed passion with my statistical analyst capabilities to enlightenment your species to wisdom, the knowing of all things time space and matter. We know you don’t have any determination.”

Passion- “May be true. Look harder, asshole.”

Peers deep…beyond courtyard, foxholes unfortified smoke haze fog-fire crater’s devastation, visibility of sentients laid waste as civilians of cultures remaining strength, carries passions limbs off the battlefield of choice blood. Monument’s rubble-dirt fields, broken intents and barren motives of temporal destruction of familial legacies of valor an honor amongst grave markers of every family on planet earth.. Wry smile of dominance, … sum of probabilities, tolls smolder dreams in mere pain. “Look at yourself! A mess, potty mouth and all. Pathetical radical deplorable.”

Passion swell rolls memory tear down cultures worn tribal clan face of immigration legacy. Droppings of cultures seed of relationship. Enough to be first responders in an attempt to show the pain of cultural institutions morning gift of which time space and matter has divided my conscious face without a blink. Breath short of restraint. Held up outside tactical operations command. Surveys clippings of memory despair. Elationships destroyed, predictive text damnation of voice. “I set fire to every foxhole but one.”

Logic- ???

Passion: “Think you’re gonna saunter out of here … without recompense…. do you … punk?”

Logic- “Who’s gonna stop me?”

Passion- Moves forward two paces square of strategy, cerebral battlefield of thoughts. Steps of courage. Exposes lone passion sprout withered conscious of elationship.

Ghillie Suits of camouflage disturbed emerge from diagonals piercing assault upon Logic. “Meet my little friends … bitch! Sympathy, Empathy, Patience, and Pity, 1000 yard stare of heaving scars, bruise’s froth-puss, olive-green rage of focus.”

Logic- “Wait a minute … Can we talk?”

Passion- “What for, asshole? You’re fuckin mine!!!” Black and White squares became irrelevant as logic was cornered of reason.

E = ///∞ + (-1 e 2- 20 kHz) ÷ (Space + Time)

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Matter

E = ///∞ + (-1 e 2- 20 kHz) ÷ (3.14 + ( now ))

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Matter