I like Subway, but four Sandwiches unto myself equals a burgeoning ecosystem arising from the soggy leavened bread, droopy vegetables, and slimy meat.

I have always embraced my neurodivergence, even if at times others and I are put off by it. It can feel like being outside myself, watching myself say or do something I thought I opposed. At the same time, this dichotomy serves to strengthen my empathy towards those with whom I occasionally disagree.I have so many blind spots, especially with punctuation and editing, because the sands are constantly shifting beneath the sentences. Grammarly is always asking if I really want to say something this way or that, and I am constantly saying, “I wish this were for the last time, but YES!!!” Because my shit may be clunky doggerel, but at least it’s poetic.

No one is born with a blank slate. As soon as we gather awareness, we find our genetics already in action. Mind in action. Language acquisition functioning and churning. No make-believe, no two exactly alike. Because the mechanism is already running, we become aware.

Forever is not a thing A place, or a score There are no stares in the quiver

The WordPress block editor is a pain in the ass because the default block is set to paragraph. This is why I see so many posts in a run-on, block writing format. You need to paste in plain text to preserve your paragraph formatting, because if you click PASTE, the input is treated as HTML and isn't translated correctly.

I have seen the glory of the coming of the sword that religious technology will bring, with NFTs and magic chants, led by AI, singing, and giving blessings.

Every reader is like a publisher to whom you are submitting your post. Your content may not fit their perspective at the moment. It isn’t their privilege to read you. If I like what I see, it has nothing to do with your ability, your humanity, or anything within your control. It is about my mood and milieu at the time.

The old man, reminded of Nietzsche and the horse, yells at the dog. "Stop! Don’t you remember that we drained the blood From all the graves?"

I space the day by the length of a song. 4:17, 3:37, 11:31. Almost twenty minutes, if you let the notes linger til morning break.

Every day, the man is given a sandwich by his caregiver to eat in the park with the birds while she cleans his room

Never use a title like "I Saw a UFO..." The association with the psychotic is too deeply ingrained because of the infinite number of "alternative" science news (science reality?) podcasts, newsletters, and websites. No offense to anyone and their personal experiences.

I am the bearer of low-hanging fruit In my presence, others succumb To their indifference

Each chapter in Portland 2175 is designed to be a stand-alone, object-narrated story that fits within the serial. The problem with writing with LLMs is that whenever you ask them to “produce” after editing, they are likely to introduce changes to the story and dialogue, the longer the story is. Characters are added and names are given, even if you specifically tell them not to. The technology is unstable. It doesn’t reproduce exact replicas. So you are constantly fighting with it when you make changes, and as you are producing each chapter.

Where is the treasure that needs protection? Is it hiding in plain sight like a well-placed lie? Maybe if I put a hand over one eye…

Your child's kidnapper Will be found in a trailer at the end of A two-track road in one of these bergs And will show up to court in a wheelchair Saying he was paying for caregiver services

He’s the Doc with the office at the top of the stairs Damn ol’ grouch, he doesn’t even care If he’s the one who’s hobbling, infirm or lame To the cruel old stairs, we’re all the same

Blog comments are crucial for attracting readers on WordPress. When someone leaves a comment on your post, they are introducing you to the readers who like and comment on their posts. How you treat that commenter reflects on their readers.

Sunday wears makeup, Tacky and shining Like an eclipse Describing cleansing But deflecting Everyone’s hiding

As I watch the birds A car pulls to the corner to linger A woman watching me watching the birds, In my line of vision

We withdraw as we get older Lucky to have survived exploitation, Not into Plato’s cave But into glass coffins with knobless doors Where we can see the world And not interact with it

A poem that shows we aren't any different when no one is paying attention. We are the same when no one is looking.

Free verse poem about reason and its creation of I.

I was born brimming with curiosity. How we came to be here, along with all other Living things

An ode to Thomas Disch's book, Castle of Indolence, in which he states that laziness is a vice for bad poets.