heart scripts

import love*
import senses
import interface.mind()*

#### begin

import relationship(romantic)
import relationship(friends)

while mind.heartbeating() == world.turning():
{

while True
{

Questions = [‘Im here for you’, ‘what can I do for you’, ‘will you go out with me’,
‘did you like it’, ‘what did you dream’]

wanting = input(hash)

wanting = mind.hopes(wanting)

if( wanting == True)
{
heart.true(romantic(oda)) = True
mind.feel(happy)
mind.feel(love.oda)
mind.trust(total(oda))
love.role(submissive)
mind.heartbeating(faster)

senses.sight(bright++)
mind.dreams(happy, oda)

ENDALL
}
else( wanting not true)
{
heart.waiting(romantic(oda)) = True
heart.true(friends(oda)) = True
mind.feel(hope)
mind.feel(adoration.oda)
mind.feel(willing.oda())

}

wait.until(time == right)

}

An introduction to the concept of mental resonance

We are all familiar with the attraction of electromagnets, this is due to the simple principles of physics, all currents generate a perpendicular magnetic field, and this is a result of resonance. Resonance lets you shatter a glass with your voice, or can rip a bridge into pieces.

( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j-zczJXSxnw)

 

It is important to understand resonance before you analyze the physics involved in ESP, if you want to make a close study of this I would recommend reading the Wikipedia pages on resonance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Resonance) I welcome ANY polite discussion of the topic, and most especially any skepticism, as I will admit, none of my experiments have been experimentally verified, and even though I have obtained consistent results, I have not been able to create a repeatable test as of yet, because of this, I will not claim that I have SCIENTIFIC proof of any claim I make, only circumstantial evidence.

 

The following is the basis for the idea of mental resonance,

  1. The brain is a series of electric field generating neurons
  2. Induced currents in the brain can alter the body’s response involuntarily https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7vOgHqE_P4
  3. The brains resemblance to other brains lends it the ability to resonate more closely with other brains

The conclusion that I have drawn from this, is that telepathy is not only possible, but a skill you can develop.

 

In my own experiment, I have been able to communicate, in some form, with others up to 1/2 kilometers distant, and to effectively “read” the dreams of a particular person up to 25 kilometers distant.

thanks guys

Yesterday saw the blog hit a new record for likes,  I’m very happy to have done something that people have actually enjoyed, it’s wonder full to think people like my work so far, rambling as it is, I’m trying to steer this blog more towards its intended topics, writing, philosophy and lucidity. it’s a bit of a broad spectrum, but I think the three things connect very well.

I want to thank you for reading my blog, and also for taking the time to give me feed back, a comment or even a like or follow tells me what to writ more of and what I can do better.

yours submissively

L.s

today

The sun is rising

Begins the day

Leading us all in its silent way

 

The voices chiding

You failure they say

You’ll amount to nothing if you stray

 

The young men hiding

Flinching back as voices bray

To be your self is just passé

 

Softly smiling

Lovers young and gay

Chasing hearts like half seen fey

 

These and more I have seen today

 

My flaws, for the general benefit.

 

  1. No clear direction long-term
  2. Blustering
  3. Inattentive to other feeling’s.
  4. Trouble committing to things I don’t like but know are for the best
  5. To given to embarrassment over emotions
  6. Incautious with honesty
  7. Overly assertive
  8. Assertive about the wrong things
  9. Often impatient
  10. Proud to the point of idiocy
  11. Passive aggressive
  12. Ignores implied emotional boundaries
  13. Detached from my successes.
  14. Detached from failure
  15. Given to impassivity
  16. Prone to be vindictive with others
  17. I cant express my feelings well in person

to my dearest

Dearest,

 

It is with all my heart that I am writing to you, my frail words, no match for my heart, overflowing for you, my own words to bare and raw I think to show my heart, but naught else will suit to treat with you.

 

It was two nights ago I was lying between two thick sheets of wool and nylon, on a second story floor, just soft enough that I could sleep, but hard enough to put an ache in my joints and bones. I was lying, and I was a lie. On my side, surrounded by people who knew a fantasy I had spun for them, woven of thread from myself and others, the image was better than me, at least in their eyes, it was a tall boy, still that, a boy, he was ingenious, creative, he told them story’s, he corrected there errors in reading a book of untruth that they held as most high. He was a confident leader to them, but not a presence they payed mind if it was NOT there. I acted the part like a god, no flaw, no misplaced words, I WAS that boy.

And the lights had gone from that stage I was on, I lay, done with my lies for a few brief hours, and I thought of you, of small bits of me that I wrapped in the same cloth, sharp things, my jagged edges, and how I wouldn’t bare to let them cut you. I fell asleep with a thought in my mind, my given wish, a carefully chosen resonance, imitating your fears, making my mind see sound, making my voice high in my own mind, feeling with my ears, weight of me matching, I hope, the weight of you, I feel asleep. Not many can do that, I wish I could not some nights.

 

My dream was single and long, and I knew it for what it was. I awoke with a start, surrounded by insects, but not I truth, I came to myself, and went back to the comforting web of my own lies, I rose, lying, and stayed in lies a whole day. Leading people to think I was something they thought was better and that I thought was less.

 

Love letters are supposed to be about the person who receives them, I suppose I’m not good at being selfless, I’ve only written about myself so far, I’ll change that now, if I can.

 

Love is not a story, in fairy-tales they talk of a sight and then a flutter, a singing heart that tells of the truth of your love, before the first shared words of two souls. I did not fall for you like princes of old story’s, enslaved to their whims, instead each night I knew you I found me wondering about you, not noticing why, every night I had a new question, what is her laugh like, what does she fear, what makes her happy, where dose she look when she thinks, each answer spiraled another question, till one wondering night, my dreaming mind wandered to you, and then, without question, I knew.

 

You’re a star, glowing like a beacon of hope, a lighthouse on a sea of stones and hate filled waters. In your bravery, I can set sail for places unknown, knowing that when I wreck my ship against the wave of hate I stir into storm ahead of me, your there, welcoming, a place for my bedraggled form to swim to.

 

You’re a bird, uncaged after a long life of sad singing, for the first time free to be who you’ve wanted to be, your praise to the sky a match only for your flight, new and alive, into the world, like a raven of the tower, guarding the land by the harsh beauty of your cry.

 

You are the Maid Marian to my robin hood, my clumsily attempts at heroism resulting always in your saving me, Your words a shield for when I go too far in foolish rebellion, Your face a calling trumpet, sounding my king’s return. And all my pursuit of you brings me naught, yet how can I help but hunt the un-catchable quarry, the white stag to my king peter, the lure from the fantasy of my Narnia, to the reality of my wardrobe.

You’re the red winged butterfly, the tiniest flap of your wings sets me spinning, a slow growth of a tornado, whirling away my inhibition, leaving me raw, eyes open, wanting to sing not knowing why in the middle of the night, burning away my caution, drenching my anger with a sudden rain, then fanning it with a gust of wind.

 

There is a dream I have when I’m not asleep, I’m sitting in a red chair, reading a book I’ve never seen, smoking a hookah sometimes, others I’m just sitting alone, waiting, there is a clock o the wall across from me, I can point to the moment I’m waiting for, I don’t know why.

 

Two hours and a few minutes later, a door opens behind me, and a woman, seeming to be in her middle twenty’s walks around me, sitting on a chair to my right, her hair is short this week, and blue today, we’ve been through six years of school, 26 recordings of a deep voiced man, trying to enplane what is happening to him, to the people who change what he is. 15 tear filled nights after a long loved person breaths their last, 6 months of deployment, after a draft was declared for what is surely the last time, two strange hours, as fate took my left hand, and then sent me back, less human, more broken. There is a German sheered, lying next to a rag-doll cat, oblivious to how fast time is flowing around them, around us. You look at me, shaken slightly, I stand, and the book I put down bares my own name, “the collected works of L.s” a pseudonym I’ve decided to keep. This letter is its first passage; I was rereading it, smiling, crying a little, and sometimes breathing not at all. I pour, you drink, and your breath becomes more relaxed, your silence says it all, but I ask anyway, I worry as much as I did when I sat in the theater to watch your first performance, your fist dance among blood and bones “Dupuytren’s contracture”, I ask? You nod, and then smile, relaxing, putting a mental notch into your nimble fingers, one more success, one more proof of your skill. The dog wakes then, coming over, a hand without flesh comforts him. A hand I can’t feel lies over the ghost of mine, possessive.

 

I like my dream, but I love you. And I must tell you this in truth, I will accept this or any other future, if that future is with you.

 

In submission,

Robin

L.s

2/22/2016 10:05 am

one more day.

in life there is little to be done about failure. we must carry on, in spite of any failing. this is the only way to live. i have failed, romance, though strong, is at time to weak to support the weight of our thoughts. this is the way of life. i wonder what the future will bring about for me

attracting djinn

 

Tips for attracting minor djinn

  1. Allow no water within 15 feet of the area you are trying to attract them too, do not slobber, or have wet hair, or anything to drink nearby
  2. Set a fire, heat and open flame are ideal attractors, especially to djinn hiding from rain.
  3. Do not ask djinn its name, this is as meaningless as asking a bird what collage it want’s to go to.
  4. Have a thick bed of ash under your fire,
  5. Avoid strong smelling chemical fires, propane, pinion pine, and lamps lit with essential oils are repulsive to vaporous entity’s
  6. Display metals in the fire, particularly gold, or platinum.
  7. Do not stand, sit, or crouch low, next to the fire. djinn will not mix with exhaled breath if they can avoid it, do not blow on your fire for this reason
  8. Block the wind, but allow open access to the fire, again vaporous entity’s.