_ perfection _  through infinite possibilities   _
 | |__________| |_________________________________| |
 | __/ _ \ '__| '_ \ / _ \/ __| '_ \ / _ \/ _ \/ _` |
 | ||  __/ |  | |_) | (_) \__ \ |_) |  __/  __/ (_| |
 \___\___|_|  |_.__/ \___/|___/ .__/ \___|\___|\__,_|
  .  competes  with  self  .  |_|  terbo@iago.nac.net

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terbospeed's photos Chad'sflickr / tribe photos


mp3 How ya doin, this is Chad. I reject your reality, and choose to substitute my own. Thank you very much.
[     each man - one way; each horse - one stance; each church - one buddha;each master - to his own technique     ]

please leave a message
at the end of the BWEEEEEP


Remember: This is written for me as well as for you. - 08-12-05
i just realized something.
i've never really done anything. . . .

this blog is for the dust, it has
a few more entries to go and then
we will move on to .. wordpress?
adapt2? whats going on here ... 01/08/09

dugga duh dugga duh dugga-dugga-deh-duhh dugga duh dugga duh dugga-dugga-deh-duhh dugga duh dugga duh dugga-dugga-deh-duhh dugga duh dugga duh dugga-dugga-deh-duhh daba doop deba deh daba doop a deba daba doop deba deh daba doop a deba ...

last words - 07:15 07/18/07

no one knows for sure what this world is for;
where it has come from; or where it is going.

based on this principal, i will keep my mouth
shut. all change will go on inside of me.

i think i've said enough already.

Friday, July 18, 2008

 

Marble Measurements

We measured the speed
not by velocity
but by the absence of movement amongst other anomolies
stationary objects in focus
with blur stating only the obvious:
shifting shadows
lights going off tracked how we spotted em

Barely periphial and changing patterns
known by their accomplices
standing one by one behind each other
telling time for the audience
personal and intimate

the display was applauded
as it conformed to ISO 9666:
a standard party trick

doubled in intensity by the prism
exponentially mirrored in holographic bouncing bits
collected and reflected upon
then navigated to the resting spot

we took custody of the secrets left in plain sight
then ran to count and added

it was incredible math
as we reverse engineered their wrath
all the while stumbling and laughing

because the method through which we gained access
was by an unpublished exploit
fresh to your mind
but old in the circles we ran into
i tell you, i split in two
the hilarity was overwhelming
and discredited any positivity in their control
see you dont always need a compass
to tell which way ya goes . . .


So i was lost again
the dog was dead and burried
so i had to defend myself
from these crossing winds

six miles north
i could smell the rotting scent
of a lifestyle named something or other
where you treated everyone as your brother
no sleep but coughing fits

stock traded by homeless real estate agents
i could almost feel vagrant
if it wasnt for this fire and memories of my mother

no matter the parralax some things never changed
so i lit my arrows and went out hunting

might die in ignorance
but never in self defense
breaking the chain was my first offence
and the absence of comfort, my only sins . . .
and the absence of comfort, my only sins . . .


See?
Its right there in front of you!
I would say as I kept walking
And the ground breaking sialence kept me aware
as in the background some random idiot was talking
And his owned voice was mine [His voice was my own]
Onward and stronger then every step became monument
as I crept close to a home that was labeled anonymous

The talking horse had passed
and was burried to
He said this road we walked
Of course it was inevitable
And lack of expansion until that moment
was highly negligable
Anything but illegible
I'd never thought to hear such wisdom
from a mammal with so many appendiges

Quick before it diminishes
Turn around and spin with it
Dont sit with it
Express the emminent unlimited
an undocumented past leaves a lot of room for interpretation
until the lions have their historians, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter
and i wasn't saying this is right, im just saying its what i write

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(c) cbt 1998-2006