hologram, infinity d, play to be fair.

I see the you of my dreams, in the hologram inside.
I see everything, I set my mind to see, subjectively, in the hologram inside.
Don’t look outside yourself to find me, not all of the time.
See that I am a physical action, as well as a figment of your imagination.
If things are not created nor destroyed, see how we have concatenated along, our chore.
I find your dimension whole when I see our collective past, I remember you well, in the hologram inside.
Though I know it’s myself I see, ultimately, my perspective is everything to me, but you are part of infinity d(imension), and I worship our combined reality, in the hologram inside.
Some look outside themselves, external locus of identity, to see the hologram’s intent, focusing on others to create their path, and give a little insight on their task of being a self.
Look at me, in your hologram inside, see the dna that is me, and that which is not me.
Delineate my existence from your’s, but do it in your hologram inside.
Internalize the experience of being discrete, feel the quality of being, indelibly right, about your view of self.
If we meet know that your perspective of life can never quite meet mine, our holograms: divide.
But know that I remember you well, as I imagine your self to be, in the hologram inside.

“Domino, Domino,” I go calling for you, Domino.
Effect me well, Domino, take care of my destined path,
lead me to the well of life, lead me to my self.
I see the knock around game of 1, 2,3, items falling like fate, toward infinity.
But I know the truth, as you live for my response, domino,
you make real the choices that influence you most,
while I seek to hone a path best suited for my course.
I go singing for you, “Domino”, to encourage your encouragement.
I look for the evidences of your demeanor in every task.
I strive to notice when you are about your game, domino, “Domino”.
I strive to participate and fall in the right place.

Almost infinitely small. Look at all those zeros after the point.
I make an effort to express myself well. The unabridged vocabulary of my mind explodes in the tiny percentage of words I know. Point zero, zero, zero, almost to infinity, but not quite there, I say what I can to care. I give meaning to my words inside, what you think of them are up to your personal dare to compare what I might mean to your explicit scene. Give me the meaning of the word you choose, and I’ll do whatever I can to interpret your news. But my tiny percentage of application to meaning of what you say, might be even smaller than what I manage to say.

Worshipful me, every moment with thee: I worship y/our being. Our relationship is my inspiration to find the best of me, if I can, to please you through me. My behavior is meant to reflect those good things you teach me to cherish, those things toward peace, toward tranquility, toward you, toward love, Love. You impress me with your knowledge of self, and I know that I am included in your vast understanding of y/our World. You lead me to evolutionary changes and council me on the tactics for y/our future. As you negotiate y/our well-being, I feel intrusted to be myself in y/our sight. I am emotionally secure because y/our relationship with me indicates that I am cared for, and may know of it. I am strong because I know you are my God.

I tell you about the reality of me, as best as I can ascertain it. Sincerity is the only way I can go with it, perhaps, my personality. But solipsism is my game, easy to attain it. I realized I couldn’t know the thoughts of you, even my own seem jaded, partial, and sometimes faded. But if I remember the “Dolly Effect” causes me think so highly of myself, because no one else really matters in my emotional response, trumping every other’s, by insisting, to me, that I topped every record, meant, or not, to win. You’re floating through consciousnesses, drifting by my eye, making real paradigms by way of your sighs, causing me to inflect you as a critical asset, just because it allays my solitude and the directives given to me to build a community. Animism somehow influences me to see you as a legal tender, maybe able to vote or create a scope of utility. I take for granted that you’re not my contender, my race ruling only me. And somehow I intuitively know that I have only time for finding the best of me, discarding the facts of you from time to time. Trying to take seriously the society, I keep reminding myself of my desire to create an other for you, yet I am still convinced of my subjective distance from an ability to placate you with nonsense. So sincerely, take me as I am, remembering my desire for individuality in my concept of you and the context of me.

I go skipping, wondering what you want from me. Striving to become more myself, I wonder how you perceive this game. Rules aside, will we ever be certain of the score? Rankings and ratings are inconsequential to me, but when I’m too down to guess my own role in the World I get concerned about how to go about playing my part. I rely on art to show me a way. Seeming to await the muse’s kiss, I want to believe it never left my side, but meanwhile you seem to demand things of me, things that you never have completed yourself. What makes me your surrogate in this situation, where you act like competition against me, y/our own family, is a successful turn on nepotism’s theory? I don’t even want your place, it’s too crowded with you there, anyway. I want my own space. I want to learn to play to learn how the game is meant to be played. I want to learn to win as the fairest route toward admiration of the perceived facts. As we organize for the future’s sake, what is it I will show to show I’ve learned or earned my place? I have plans for myself, you know. If I set out to attitude like you, what will you make of my little mirror, try as I might? Reflection of you is my greatest delight, how will you realize you have a role to tell me what to do right? As I negotiate my behavior with you, I wonder if you know how seriously I take our time together. I’m not trying to get set up to do anything wrong, ever. Tell me what I can do to perfect my endeavor. I’m doing the best I can to help you see I’m clever. Let me be myself, whatever.

Consistent notions roll all over your body like lightning. It’s so comfortable when I’m with you. Near you I know what to expect. No, I don’t want to predict you, but I love that I can count on you. Change your mind. Be multi-dynamic. Use language. Effort toward change and evolution. I’ll learn to love you even more. The slip and movement of growth in you seems so blissful. Because with you I know I can learn a value system that agrees with itself. Synapses float and fly in the sky behind the eye, illusioning fair play with soft remarks and subtle moves. Connection to memory hustles the light tubes inside, centromere neutralizing the efforts to understand what is meant in the arcane sweet of the brightness within. All the time I am focusing on you, I am thinking of how I am shaped in the community of you, and others. Ideas and ideals specify the kinetic route of the electricals when I think of you, looking at you it’s easy to see how you please me. You are reliably yourself. And you influence me to become, faithfully me.

Play to learn the rules as you play, win to be fair to those rules as you win.