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Message Subject X Marks the Spot
Poster Handle Anonymous Coward
Post Content
a common mirror
is a manufacture of three things

a stable backing
a reflective coating
a glass transparency

only some of those
enthralled by the metaphore
discern that their vision has made a choice

only some of those
enthralled by the metaphor
discern the choice of the maker

only some of those
enthralled by the metaphore
conceed the choice of the mirror
 Quoting: thunk 29776259

good morning

i like that
 Quoting: aether

good morning

here is a why and a mirror,
though not especially likeable

Once an event has been set in motion...

 Quoting: Seer777

that is an interesting way to say it
we have avoided the topic of people dieing generally
because to me the topic prompts noticeable emotion in the living
and that was sensed while i was less empathic tounge
similarly the topic is emotional for ancestry generally for reasons we have touched upon on the marko thread but not detailed
and all of the above is intricately entwined within the nature of our universe (electrical) and it`s structural functions in relation to our emotional expression (life)

this /z\ is contained within our re orientation information which, if we decide (mood) to continue with into/through our 2013 onwards, these topics will be within our spoken expression and practical physical/spiritual experience next commencing year

is the sensation
 Quoting: aether

I was wondering why I brought it up as well...

It seems this happened a few minutes after I posted the bit about the school boys.

Thread: Possible MASS SHOOTING in OREGON!

 Quoting: Seer777

So, on my way to work, I pass by a row of four beautiful old trees. I look for their shade in summer. I treasure the red gold leaves they send spiraling down in autumn.

Tuesday morning, work had begun to bring them down. By three of the trees, naked limbs were stacked like firewood around the massive central trunks. Only the tree on the corner still carried its golden crown. It tore my heart.

Why? A few branches fell during the last storm, maybe. Someone was afraid for their property, maybe. They were breaking up the sidewalk and threatening the power lines, maybe.

I laid my right hand flat up against the trunk of each tree in passing. “Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry - it will be okay.”

Tuesday afternoon , I came home from work and turned on the radio. There was a live news feed from a shooting incident north of here. Facts were unclear about how many shots were fired; they thought at least one person was killed.

I said to myself, three were killed; one survives. Because of the trees. Because the anguish of the trees communicated chemically through the underground network of roots that links all trees and reached a basement in Portland.

Mirror, mirror…
I did not choose.
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