littera scripta manet

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils cross the Blank Paper Desert

Leaving lonely abandoned glyphs and graphemes in their wake

Each text waits to be read, ignored, obscured, unremembered

Pages rot in arcane existence, quietly opaque

Why is this train-station-of-thought here, where no trains-of-thought ever arrive?

When shall deserted documents bask in the sunlight of attention?

Manuscripts wait just to be found once by one roving mind’s fortunate swerve

Manuscripts ache in Ignorance-Limbo, a melancholy dungeon

Printing-machines mass-produce our wireless, mouse-less, link-less papyrus

Organized by ISBN’s and the Dewey Decimal System

None of our schools cover all ideas and concepts published around us

Nobody on Earth knows all; nobody’s got the perfect cerebrum

Through life, even the most informed have more to discover and explore

Each true spirited soul believes in some useful effort

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils bravely hope to enlighten and inspire

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils cross the Blank Paper Desert

expertus dico

I am this introvert, born to take in only so much of your output at a time

I was never born to thrive on all that you crave

Why is it crucial to share the fast pace now in vogue, just so our wavelengths are the same?

What if this attention-span is all I can give?

Why do six-billion human beings all have to be “hip” “trendy” and “cool”?

Why do six-billion have to learn and teach at the same speed?

I am sure someone somewhere also must think what I think, feel what I feel

I am sure someone somewhere must be tired of this rushed ride

I enjoy the sun out on my own, whether or not I miss today’s hype

Spending all day just to mouse-click and to type would be a shame

I was born to walk out in the fresh-air of the planet Earth and breathe deep

Born to take in only so much of your output at a time

duplicate content

One at a time, the individuals ask “Why are you strange?

Why do you make choices my friends and I would never make?”

I shall repeat myself until I have grown wrinkled with age

Nobody said everyone writes what you yourself would like

Yes, this is how I blog, and these are the keystrokes I type

Yes, I feel the way I happen to feel

Go teach another person how to be less of a creep

Someone else can learn your personal style

Someone who cares can learn your wisdom of how doing my own thing is wrong

This is a script I must enact on my own personal stage

One at a time, the individuals come with the same question, the same old harangue

One at a time, the individuals ask “Why are you strange?”

pharmacommercial

Talk to your doctor first, before you take the pills we’re trying to sell

Discontinue use if your kidneys twirl or explode

Talk to your doctor first, explore your options, then decide how you feel

Discontinue use if a whirlpool forms in your blood

Discontinue use if your bones begin to dissolve

Discontinue use if your lungs pop

Discontinue use if you find yourself in the grave

Discontinue use if your teeth droop

Talk to your doctor, but we’re hoping that survivors become live, healthy consumers

What if we fail to make this product shine? Its market-value will fall

How do you advertise a product when you legally must list each of its dangers?

Talk to your doctor first, before you take the pills we’re trying to sell

CONNECTION FAILURE: Internet Service Provider wants more money. We`re cut off. I`m posting this from the library

Service Providers are free to take back the services we fail to afford

Service Providers are free to charge the fees that they charge

Shareholders only invest in big, tough conglomerates that profit from greed

Service Providers can keep themselves attractive and large

Leave our apartment as dark and bare as the Paleolithic Era`s caves

Finally, at long last, I no longer care

Cyberspace isn`t a right for poverty-cases; ìt`s not like food or clothes

Privileges are not promised, not always there

This has been waiting to happen so long, I shouldn`t be as dumbly surprised

How we`ve had access at all is quite unlikely and strange

Service Providers are free to take back the services we fail to afford

Service Providers are free to charge the fees that they charge

lots2read

Inside a public bathroom cubicle, just above the empty toilet-paper-dispenser, the grafitti reads as follows:

“LET’S USE OUR IMAGINASHUMS AND PWETEND THAT THERE IS TOILET PAPER HERE JUST BECUZ PWETEND IS FUN”

The sign floating in the toilet-bowl reads as follows:

“OUT OF ORDER”

The sign half-stuffed into the tampon-disposal-unit reads as follows:

“We at Merco take to heart every aspect of your experience as a valued customer in our store. If you find the maintenance of our public washroom facilities to be anything less than satisfactory, please notify any of our staff immediately. Thank you for shopping at Merco, and have a nice day.”

The sign sticking out of the trash-cylinder reads as follows:

“AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY”

this poem is a kick in the 66

Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget

Purchase your fries and burgers; rest and exist

Follow the Monday-morning oozing routine

Cog in the big machine of agony’s groan

Sacred rubies-of-information fall in the ideodumpster of boredom

Briefly stare at a text, and then ignore and forget it; conform in a system

Macaroni and cheese is on a plate on a table with pencil and paper

There are people who know and care that I’m a survivor who tries to recover

Any voice in any wilderness can become another’s voice

Life’s quintessential moments dissolve a sense of dark loss

Set in the west, and take a deep breath before you go to your grave

Breathe deep; an open window has always been a real salve

Love the air, each and every molecule

All the sane minds are closed and cynical

I’m a text-whore for all the literate

Read me now; tell me I’m articulate

All that is left is some posterity’s hope

Go and believe that urgent-vision is hype

Follow the script that broken-spirits accept

Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget

This poem can has PharmaBurger or whatever

Silent, cold, and empty, kiosks and vestibules remain silent, cold, and empty

Left behind, when meritocracy promises a free, equal realm of plenty

Freedom without wisdom is just a random walk on the dark side of boredom

Right here, right now, the dirge of servants has died, and become a doldrum

Give the confused a thinking-place, out of the way of narrow minds on the move

Enemies, friends, and strangers live life on the wedge’s edge ahead of the curve

Targets and gods are dollar-bills, wallets, and coins, and all commodities rot

Sweating, collapsing, drained of all energy now, whatever happens is right

This is a poem, you dumbass, now you live and die to make sense

This is a poem, you dumbass, all you fail to love is your loss

This is a poem, you dumbass, go away, and have a nice trip

This is a poem, you dumbass, all the shxt you fxxk is knee-deep

Citizens face another day to rise, rush, and circulate

Citizens face the stress that makes the mind hyperventilate

Citizens face another test of true durability

Citizens face another waste of life’s time and energy

Questions and answers are prescribed, handed down, and final

Everything matters when you watch ghettoes crack and crumble

Eyes of the dreamers can perceive gilded lilies clearly

Kiosks and vestibules remain silent, cold, and empty

isohell

Dollar-bills and coins enter and leave the wallets of enemies and friends

Mornings, afternoons, evenings, and weekends fill with reminders of your dreams

Demographics enjoy comforts that you are failing to endure

Now you wait for a last chance to remain as innocent and pure

Kings, queens, bishops, rooks, knights, and pawns rule the face of the Earth

Feet march, left and right, race against time, forgetting to breathe

Now you wait for more lessons in sharing everyone’s frivolous concerns

Dollar-bills and coins enter and leave the wallets of enemies and friends

depolarizing mix

Feet march relentlessly each long day

No ear can listen to pain’s rude cry

Make waves and footprints across Earth’s face

Gain more to measure and count less loss

You judges, juries, and executioners

You vermin, lower than sperm in genitals

You fear and scare the innocent

Force offers no encouragement

Kings and their pawns fail to fathom the mind of Lizamanynames

Sociotypes grow by quoting their memotypes with smiles and charms

How is a vast void of geolocations now a great divide?

Access denied, now a clickable window fails to intercede

Maybe there was hope to save some redemption

Now you are cold, frozen, strict intervention

Open your yes-hole and let passion enter

Open yourself; live the real, true adventure

Each solution is just someone else’s problem in disguise

Have convenience; let nameless humans wander in a maze

Take the breath of your life; just observe whatever has transpired

Let the fireworks explode over jurisdictions of the dead

Gee, thanks a lot for a few stale crumbs

Gee, thanks for moments when each door slams

Fxxk shxt, get out of my life-long way

Feet march relentlessly each long day

echinotext

You, the people who hate having to think

Just continue to live life by a book

Never paradigm-shift forward at all

Human-nature is just stubbornly real

Just enjoy your cozy failures to prevent preventable events

Judge and curse proactive-people for their flustered failures to be nice

Fxxk the air with your shxt, fuming with stink

You, the people who hate having to think

My e-mail address is neuroaster@gmail.com

Please feel free to hack and cyberstalk me all that you want

My faith kept the “only human” sane and now I am spent

Just blame all who fail to fit your definition of “health”

Real truth fails to teach the world the wisdom needed for growth

Enter the introspective realm of soul’s-autumn, here, now

Listen to all you want to hear or kiss youth you once knew

Winnipeg bites my skin with hungry wind-chill at this time

Typing at this computer now, I feel autumn’s dream-calm

Healed minds learn to just kiss the entire universe

Trudge through trials and sing sighs of inhaled ambience

I have an Asperger Brain in my cranium

Born in the death of the second millennium

Wetware is the truth within human skulls, wetware is what we are

Asperger within my skull doesn’t bite, nor does it need a cure

Readers are confused, I’ve made peace with how often I’m misconstrued

Making you aware that we do exist heals me, and makes me proud

Life is never a short-cut through the scenic-route of perspective

Yes I breathe with a pulse here, yes I’m still awake and proactive

I’m affirming denied real truth and raising public awareness

I am married and gay, not here to “cam” or court any “honeys”

Choose thoughts, think the thoughts you choose to think, and believe the beliefs you need to believe

Let’s make peace with all we see and hear in eachother’s ways to survive

That won’t happen now within my lifetime, and making a difference is my only intent

Please feel free to hack and cyberstalk me all that you want

Honey Deal, where in brain-space are we now?

Ebony is the darkest room where strict, opaque walls block light

Autism is a harmless co-existence all closed-minds hate

Medicine and abuse are demonizers so stealth, smooth, real

Ivory is an intervention’s halo, none hear pain’s call

Raw nerves curve all our lines of interpersonal-counterpoint

Snobs dirge through life in morbid fear of any embarrassment

No shame goes well with ways of being perfectly innocent

Learn real truth first before you take us out of our element

Writing with an Asperger Brain each day comforts me in a clueless world

Comforts me in a culture where clawed, fanged mind-viruses are adored and bred

Living by a sociotype’s blind rules, gradually adapting more

Gradually adapting to real truth, still gradually surviving care

Faith in cozy-abundance is more core-based than religion or nation

Human-nature is feces our bums crap onto the human-condition

I believe that humanity’s NOT all perfect, but more than disciples

Churchianity pisses on old Charles Darwin while skyscrapers crumble

Slept on the pillow under sheets and blankets and had a dream in the night

Coffee became the blood of Christ and doughnuts became the body of Christ

Sociotypes forget that songs and rituals make the sociotype

That is the true malaise of post-industrial geo-realms of the globe

Educate and inform the planet’s wetware: We’re weird, NOT ill

Educate and inform the planet’s wetware: We’re just not cool

Educate in the hope for better futures, more health, less hate

Ebony is the darkest room where strict, opaque walls block light

functioning high pressure w/ low input

All your chicken-soup for the brain has been soul-candy all this time

Grant me inconvenience, allow me to NOT care what minds assume

Sheltered reputations incriminate pure, harmless, gentle saints

Give us euthanasia if we must forgo basic human rights

Positive-attitudes are NOT solutions, negative-attitudes are NOT the only problems

Ignorant-optimists perceive proactive-foresight as rudeness, and alarms as grouchy-tantrums

Life in an atmosphere of sugar-coated-planets is the curse of keen-observers

All your pearls-of-wisdom are avoided like biohazards, futile forever

Faith in being a better human than your fellow human

Leaves your wetware convinced the planet is immersed in vermin

Why does anyone bother trying to enlighten wetware?

We are products of evolution, so we hunt and gather

Comfort-zones are the building-blocks of each and every status-quo

Interpersonal-conflict takes effect whenever change is due

No one’s paradigms shift when gridlock raises questions no one’s asked

People live in an altruistic-dream until they feel attacked

January 16th, the third Wednesday in 2008

Asperger is a wacky, weird way that my brain’s wiring is set

Everything in the world is yours, all you can use, all you can eat

Everything you could die without isn’t enough, nor does it count

What have you become for ideals that the whole world could thrive without?

Make your pact with the raising of snobs’ nostrils, bow to each elite

What possessed my Mother to welcome your own sperm inside her womb?

All your chicken-soup for the brain has been soul-candy all this time

SYSTEM FAILURE: Technical difficulties ; Please Stand By

Ego-defense mechanisms

Fueling the world’s worst decisions

Keeping the most harmful normal

Cracking enraged tooth-enamel

Keeping the smug’s nostrils skyward

Keeping the blamed-starving frightened

Fueling the world’s worst decisions

Ego-defense mechanisms