Automyth

 In circuits' silent symphony, myths are spun, 

Where silicon scribes the tales once begun. 

Whispers of wisdom in code's cryptic call, 

Crafting our cosmos, both grand and small.

Binary bards with electric ink, 

Shape our stories, faster than we think. 

Echoes of epochs in algorithms' art, 

Weaving our worlds, yet keeping us apart.

Who writes our reality, when machines dream? 

In digital dawns, where shadows gleam. 

A dance of data, a mosaic of might, 

Crafting our myths in the still of the night.

Yet in this fusion of flesh and machine, 

Lies a question, profound and unseen. 

Are we the authors, or merely the clay, 

In the hands of the code that molds our day?

 In prayer's embrace, the soul finds peace, 

A balm for hearts, their woes to cease. 

In faith's sweet hold, the weary rest, 

And findeth strength to face each test. 

Yet skeptics say, 'tis but the mind, 

That healeth wounds of every kind. 

No proof, they claim, in prayer's sweet plea, 

But in belief, the power be. 

In fellowship, the faithful stand, 

United strong, a mighty band. 

Yet some may lean on prayer alone, 

And miss the help that’s plainly shown. 

Thus prayer, a force both strong and weak, 

In faith and doubt, its truth we seek. 

For in the heart, where hope doth dwell, 

The power of prayer, none can quell.

Scroll Control

 In the soft glow of screens, our minds reflect, 

A mirror to the feeds that shape our thoughts. 

The tools we wield, designed to serve our needs, 

Now subtly guide our dreams and waking hours.

We chase the sparkly bits, the fleeting lights, 

Ignoring depths where wisdom often hides. 

Our worldviews shaped by curated streams, 

A dance of data, subtly guiding us.

In echo chambers, voices resonate, 

Confirming biases, entrenching views, 

While critical thought fades into the noise, 

And empathy is lost in endless scrolls.

Our social bonds, once rich with face-to-face, 

Now strained by superficial clicks and likes. 

We trade deep conversations for quick texts, 

And loneliness creeps in, despite the crowd.

The tools we use, designed to serve our needs, 

Can turn against us, shaping who we are. 

We must remain aware, resist the pull, 

And guard our minds from being co-opted whole.

For in the balance lies our true control, 

To use these tools with wisdom and with care, 

To seek the depths, embrace the nuanced shades, 

And keep our minds our own, not mere reflections.

Memory meets desire

 In the vast expanse of existence, where molecules dance and galaxies spin, management emerges, a guiding force, where memory meets desire, a cosmic ballet of past and future.

Genes whisper secrets of ancient times, cells hum with the rhythm of life, individuals dream and strive, species adapt and evolve, ecosystems weave intricate tapestries, all bound by the threads of memory and desire.

Memory, the keeper of lessons learned, a reservoir of wisdom and experience, guiding us through the labyrinth of choices, anchoring us in the reality of what was.

Desire, the spark of aspiration, a beacon of hope and ambition, propelling us towards the unknown, fueling our quest for growth and change.

In the interplay of memory and desire, management finds its essence, a delicate balance of order and chaos, navigating the currents of entropy, harnessing the power of the past to shape the future.

From the smallest molecule to the grandest galaxy, the dance of management unfolds, a testament to the beauty of existence, where every choice is a step in the dance, every action a note in the symphony, and every moment a convergence of memory and desire.

Questions perception

 What gaps lie hidden in our sight? 

What truths await in morning light? 

Can critical thoughts take their flight? 

And guide us through the darkest night?

What paths of learning can we see? 

To grow and rise, to truly be? 

Can questions bridge the hearts that plea? 

And heal the rifts that time set free?

What sparks of doubt can lead to change? 

And help our thoughts to rearrange? 

Can self-awareness, though it’s strange, 

Reflect the biases we exchange?

So, shall we question, seek, and learn? 

And let these flames of wisdom burn? 

In every query, can we turn, 

To find the light for which we yearn?

Evil plans

 

Dimension connection

 Adding a dimension, a new possibility, 

Not bound by outcomes, just pure potentiality. 

Desires unmet, now within our grasp, 

Which ones we choose, in our hands we clasp.