Uncanny conditions will present the strangest results. Daily.

Idiosyncrasies of the course of action; the struggle to document the correct choices; always proposing advances in the preposition of predisposition; the ability to communicate openly, yet strategically manipulating the emissary, the recognition and the receiving order of understanding, and the message contained in the end result.

This is the measure of how I am able to continue to pursue my career, through authorship. Day by day.

I know it for ever, but I was deemed unworthy by the nearest jealousy. It prevented me, justified only by my ignorance (the one I can’t yet control, in the unfortunate belief in humans), to act upon it. I always give them the benefit of a true creed, trusting and joining their self quest. Mostly lies, put on display as soon as the barrier between belief and actionable demand acts as a filter. The particles of true competence are then retained and clog the dynamics of trust, intensifying the expectations of everyone’s interest into the current disappointment and usual mediocrity.

My awareness, was definitely imposed by the denial I must provide to the weak. I know it now by experience, by my expanded thinking of people and their things; I know it by the infinite connection of the point cloud nobody even sees as a shape. I know it dot by dot, one by one of them. Everyday.

I have things inside I can’t communicate. I know it, clearly. They are not secrets or even regrets, just indecipherable theorems of my own mundanity waiting for me to proccess them into the dissection of my uncomfortable rational passion about life. Patiently, as a sage and never as a pariah.

It’s hard to know what others don’t see and should feel about themselves but harder is to know how to say it and not be alowed to.