- 1.Your Move
- 3.Unfolding Time
- 4.Colorful Mind
- 5.Broken Iris - We're Not Alone
- 6.Cyrenic - Metaphor (Devil)
- 7.Neverending White Lights - From What I Once Was
I'm not referring to the philosophical, but to the practical aspects of Islamic Alchemy that made it viable to the methods in science we see today. Many of the scientific instruments used in modern…Continue
Hello, everyone! Just call me Pride, or Ed if you prefer.I am 21 years old, but my mind goes between being 10 years old to eons. People who actually know me very well have said I'm an old soul, and…Continue
༺ ţђεŕε'ş ά вlùεbιŕđ ιή ๓ץ ђεάŕţ ţħάţ ώάήţş ţσ ģεţ σùţ, вùţ ί'๓ ţσσ ţσùģђ ғσŕ ђί๓. ༻
→ ┱here's not much to be said about a mass of ςlάץ made up of รţάŕđùรţ, but yet one must ask why ςσ๓έţร fell to the molten surface in the first place to deliver
what was needed to generate liғε, and what are the intricacies of the scientific tapestries that make up the living map we are woven in to.
-- ┱ђε вlσσđץ вlùεbιŕđ.
"From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Consider again that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.
The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that in glory and triumph they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner. How frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known, so far, to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment, the Earth is where we make our stand. It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."
—Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space.
(Yet another old piece!)
Sobriquet (Ode to the Sweetest Nickname).
"The nectarine and curious peach
Into my hands themselves do reach..."
— Andrew Marvell.
The deliberate embrace:
Root of the tree.
Lingering fruit; — a wish dying to love me
In the sun's ethereal embrace!
Reminds me of another I knew...
What color that isn't…
[In honor of this month's rare Rose Moon (or Honey Moon, if you prefer) I'm posting this really old poem I wrote. I did write this when I was 16, so bare with me! lol]
Lamenting the absence of moonlight
That still bathes my skin.
The inertia was pulling my blood.
The night goes on.
The clouds move in,
But I still see you everywhere.
By A. A. J. B.
Coming down is the temple of the mage.
The candles on the walls fall down and sets my rage again.
So if you see everything burn,
Just leave me here torn.
For I don't have the strength left
To put out the embers just born.
And if I am to die by fire,
Then that would just be my fate.
I was promised to die by water,
But that promise came too late.
Again the philosopher is stoned.
He took some pity from the…
[This is more of an opinion piece. This particular post isn't to be taken in a scholarly fashion.]
Call me beautiful. (I'm a replicated melody.) Call me beautiful. (An inorganic memory).
Artificial life has been a part of the human psyche for thousands of years. From the Takwin of early Arabic alchemist, to the modern scientists in labs creating artificial strands of DNA, and cloning, the…Continue