Your value in relation of comparison, is to compare you to that which you are not; I do not love in this way– Your value is what I see in your company, for whatever reasons, forms, and even sensation of comparisons; that I even if I had based in on superficial comparisons, could not have come to value such comparisons; if I was not the one whom which would be the true finder in value, I could not even come to conclusions– Conclusions, that we might change our value systems; none of these systems give the value, but the choice in which respects by acting in accordance with its belief in its value–
Ode to my inability to love you, when I place the forms above my intent—
I get so lost in the matters at hand, that I forget what I even wanted to do; express myself to you—
Ode to my intentions to show you my love, but that I would dissolve our relationship the moment I feel the same love isn’t returned—I forget myself so easily, I forget myself in the things and the things in relation; that I forget my relationship to you when I snapped over dirty dishes—
Ode to fuck the dishes, I love you; and I I meant it, no dishes would change it; as the basis of love I know is not conditional in the conditions of a lovely climate, but an unconditional love who’s engulfing manner brings bliss into the conditions. Because I do not love what you are, I do not love who you think yourself to be, but that as a living being I love you and my intent is to make you all happy; and now where am I in my own intent—do I intend anything for myself?
Ode to the selfless, but with the positive qualities of the selfless so apparent, it is the stigma of the selfish I find unloving—I don’t love others who love me back, I know I am loved by everyone; when you protect your sister, you are loving me. When giving a ride to a friend, you are helping me—you have always shown your intentions towards me when you have ever cared for anyone; but that I have never seen your words match your Actions, or actions means the words; but ode to the choices in front of you not including the choice in your heart—because I know you love me, and you would know I would love you.. if we were able to make choices, not based on where we are at, and what we are running from or towards; or what we think we need to do in order for our true choice to emerge as the chosen; I know who you are when you can’t act as you intended, or the intentions of the act do now shine through the form of expression–
Ode to that spirit I see inside each of us, the one that loves all but can only recognize the one it loves; cannot recognize love at all unconditionally until the conditions allow for the conditioned choices to exist in the conditional form that expresses itself unconditionally. Ode to when you wish to kill me, because you love your brothers whom I threat; ode to that love that is directed at all, but to whom one might make love, and yet to another will cut the other cheek when it is shown.
Ode not to society changing, ode not to revolution, transcendence, realization of, or the finding of truth; ode not to raising vibrations, shifting to the 5th dimension, or even the 13tH figment of my mind in which the light, sound, and meaning of life are revealed—ode not at all to unceasing service to God I commit, or the unimaginable role I have imagined; but ode to her, and that which led me to her, which was her. An ode to me, whom found her and told myself who she was, so that she might do the same of me in her mind; and that with this I can do one thing I could never do as the supreme; and ode not to unity who’s existence does not depend on our recognizing; but ode to the duality, to the relations, to the sexual nature of my own divinity.
Ode not to the one I am, because of everyone else; but that everything else as the one thing I am; allows me to do what I would long for, to have a longing for, and be in the place in which there is something for me to long for, something that I could not give myself.. an that is the Supreme ode to which I would always cast; the ode to relation, the ode to the womb from which I arose; and the deep grave I dig myself at the feet of the heart of every girl I didn’t know how to communicate with. And how, no matter how I feel about myself; unless there is true communion; that my own feelings would never conclude a worthy comprehension of the understanding of myself whom is of such a greater nature, that I would humble myself before misleading of my greatness, but that if any bit of me where humble while any of me was great; I would not ever be able to see my own self.. because a part of me inherently denies another part of me, and so I could never see who I am as both great and humble. You see I need you if I wish to ever understand who I am. Anything other than the mirror of a lover, is the mirror of a man who cannot love who he finds himself to be in any other mirror as much as he tries, because such a mirror cannot treat you any other way than you have treated yourself– No growth comes in the mirror of the empty ground of the abandoned temple in which our body seems to be and where looking past the exterior is something one looking at you would do, but that you could not look at your choices in the context of another’s mind; and that the context of another’s mind is truly how you exist in reflection of everything else.. and you are the one person who is incapable of looking at yourself and finding the value of yourself as you exist within the world; because by pure measurement and comparison, we distort the relationships that truly provide our value, which are those relationships in which the person has reason to value you (not by any category, label, or description; though may be expressed as such) not by those things that give form to you being valued, but that such a person should exist in a world established beyond yourself before one has met; and see value in you and you being in their life, in their mind as it is; without necessarily valuing anything of fiscal of established social value.. but that your mere presence might increase their own expression in the way they live their life–