A notebook bulletin board
tacked on when randomly bored
applied thoughts in a scribblebook
open for the world to look who passes by
so fast to see like a needle in a haystack we
safely stash those innermost secrets thought to be
at least you see languishing up and into pristine
blossoms for you to pick and sniff and hope
they don't make you sick.



Check out the reflections
and notice similarities,
shake out recollections and
get rid of the disparities.

There's an organization on the crawl,
it's left its shadow on the wall.
The imprints are diminishing and
respectively we're finishing

the arcs of each dream
strung out like a rosary
spinning us dizzy and
leaving simply no choice

but to choose to use
the protocols we confused
for inconveniences.
If change is the name

of the norm, then we
must modify our form
to not just embrace it,
but skilfully surf it.

Resistance is futile.
Hang Ten with each new wave.
Crunch the numbers and mold them
so they work for, not against us.

Do the math first;
minimize the worst.
Stay on top, and
get the drop.

Push against the blade
with a chain mailed fist.
Use that edge against them
so they cut their own wrist.

I'm sorry but I must insist
we get with the program before
the moderators get pissed
But here's the gist:

Allowing yourself to be
programmed is to follow
the rest and be damned.
Take the reigns and surf the wave.

Start shaping the new plan.
Wear it like armor.
Give it time and soon
it will feel like a new skin.

Shed the old fears
and feel the sudden wind.
Spread your tailored sails
and let the voyage begin.

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