Author: UnFathem Cortex

Just a viewer of time and what makes a day. I see and analyze what went before and after. Just looking through the schism of time.

Talk Back!

Doesn’t matter if you need somebody, doesn’t matter if they need you. For those of you who wants somebody to love or be friends with, you will need to keep secrets and tell no lies to each other.

For those of you who would not dwell on telling the truth when you really need to talk to somebody, truth be known, we all need to talk to somebody about our inner secrets and facts about how we live our lives.

But it a truth is blasphemy and it would surely hurt somebody, then the law should come into context.

You would have to keep irrational thought from popping up, and maintain curfew, to the one in question.

Maintaining composure is like learning to ride a bike with no stabilizers for the first time. It reckons composure is key.

This is just some of the thoughts that reside inside my head.

Hierachy

Go now to a place, to a time, to a destination in your life.

Follow a path that takes us to no specific research, from past due to future us. It aligns at a time that took forever to create and destroy.

Needed to destroy a ghost in the attic of our minds, and it impeded our vision, remorseful notions of giving back an idea, that supplemented our decision, to keep ourselves from you.

When we grow old, when we fight, when all is lost.

Never might be killed, nor should it linger in our mindset.

Splendid

Juice for the brain, juice for the mind, juice for the spirit, juice for the body.

Whole leaves are scattered on the ground, leaving us to squelch upon its might, day is dawn and leaves decay, but when it rains, the leaves do stay.

We welcome the people who go and who stays in our houses; when we drink a cup of tea, we put the tea down the hatchet, ensuring it’s not too hot, as our brains may not cope with this rachet.

Following the rabbit into the fields of delight, we search endlessly to find our keys are in our pocket. Follow no more, but who knows more, than the rabbit we follow, it just went into its hole.

We Are Here Finally

We choose to be hidden, we choose to be out of sight, we choose to be done for without any clues. We need love, we need light, we need somebody who knows me, for I am frightened, we also leave, we also stay, we also derive from the things we play.

Here we come, we go, here we play mind games for all to see. Here we stay upon a hill, that hill is inclined to be high and mighty, yet nobody comes to the peak, here we go again, standing by nature’s light.

Now we are here, what can we say?

Ding Dang Do Wally.

Sometimes, you’re down on your luck; sometimes, you win a race; sometimes, you earn your keep; and sometimes, just sometimes.

We just wish sometimes that we could gradually learn the facts of life without any adverse effects, knowing we are learning as we go. But if we never make any mistakes, then we need to rectify this by making some. That would never be important enough to hinder our self-beliefs and also our initial understanding of why we need to make mistakes.

Bringing you something.

For those of you who know me and my health, I would like to bring you blogs about my life and some of my thoughts. These will be whenever I feel the need to tell you something.

Although this site caters to those who want to see something about somebody’s personal life and enjoy it regularly, this is not always the case.

For this to happen, I would need to write a daily or weekly post. As you know, if you adhere to this, you will see why this can not happen and why it is that way.

We cannot know when something that seems logical will catch the eye of somebody.

Granted, this site is only for those relevant to my thinking.

Publications.

From time to time, you like to read, and this is no object of either the physical or digital.

You either like to turn the pages and like the feel of a book, or you, like me, like to tap to turn to the next page.

But if we did not have any written media to read, would we just try to cope with being illiterate? And what if we did not also discover how to write? We would only rely on people telling stories that would digress during storytelling. In which the plot and twist would never be the same. And for one person to know one by heart would mean another would also recall the same story but in different details.