Leftovers
Many things are said and written,
But it is you who must translate them,
As your frame of reference deigns.
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How can I see anything your way? How can you see anything my way?
Our frames of reference are entirely unique; we are all very much alone together.
At best we choose to imagine each other’s worlds through intuitive extrapolation of our own.
No sure bet, even with the most expansive of minds, with the best of intentions.
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What is all the knowledge, what is all the wisdom,
What are all the frames of reference, throughout this garden,
Without the unfathomable, indivisible, indelible, boundless awareness?
The unknown, the ineffable, from which all things ascend.
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All that experience, all that knowledge, all that accumulation,
The entire frame of reference from which You draw your cosmos,
What is its real purpose but to get You to this very right-here-right-now,
The most You can be, the most You have ever been, the most You will ever be.
There is no more, but what the endless cravings of imagination concoct.
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The you that You dream You are, is but a set of perceptions.
A collection of memories, a frame of reference, a grab bag of attributes,
Imagining your character real, your body real, your world real, your universe real.
Real being nothing more than an ever-changing quantum illusion,
Mesmerizing the awareness equally permeating all.
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No matter how much you think you know, how large your frame of reference,
There is so-to-the-power-of-n much more that you do not, never will, never can.
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The Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Gluttony, Lust, Wrath, Greed, Sloth;
Each triggers its own unique gratification, its own distinct hormonal stimulation.
Look around and witness the countless extremes so many across the board
Are in their nature-nurture frame of reference inspired to experience.
Soundbites
Is anyone really any more than a frame of reference playing its record over and over?
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So much in so many young minds, and little frame of reference to process it.
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The frame of reference is the fertilizer of existence.
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Life is a ceaseless process of reframing the frame of reference.
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No matter how great or small, any frame of reference is still a frame.