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      "body": "Congratulations @nacho-sensei! You received a personal award!\n\n<table><tr><td>https://steemitimages.com/70x70/http://steemitboard.com/@nacho-sensei/birthday2.png</td><td>Happy Birthday! - You are on the Steem blockchain for 2 years!</td></tr></table>\n\n<sub>_You can view [your badges on your Steem Board](https://steemitboard.com/@nacho-sensei) and compare to others on the [Steem Ranking](http://steemitboard.com/ranking/index.php?name=nacho-sensei)_</sub>\n\n\n**Do not miss the last post from @steemitboard:**\n<table><tr><td><a href=\"https://steemit.com/japanese/@steemitboard/new-japanese-speaking-community-steem-meetup-badge\"><img src=\"https://steemitimages.com/64x128/https://cdn.steemitimages.com/DQmRWbAjbeETEaqSPLcpwYX1JN5pZhdPffv4q6DaBs6xvZm/image.png\"></a></td><td><a href=\"https://steemit.com/japanese/@steemitboard/new-japanese-speaking-community-steem-meetup-badge\">New  japanese speaking community Steem Meetup badge</a></td></tr></table>\n\n###### [Vote for @Steemitboard as a witness](https://v2.steemconnect.com/sign/account-witness-vote?witness=steemitboard&approve=1) to get one more award and increased upvotes!",
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      "body": "There are less bras lying about during the week.  On the weekend they might be found strewn wherever, almost strategically, less fashion statement and more territorial marking?  Despite racking a swell man-boob myself, I’m still the only guy in the house - and I don’t know what ‘bra marking’ is all about.   Hanging on a hallway doorknob, on the back of a kitchen chair, clip-chipped to the message board, stuffed into bookshelves?  What does it mean?  Where do the bras go during the week?  Does this mean they aren’t wearing them on the weekend (perfect, way to go hippy dad!)?  Or do they just take them off on Friday’s, like a construction worker that throws his hard-hat in the middle of the kitchen - too exhausted and disgusted with it to wear it another step, replacing it with that perfectly worn ball cap?  Or is it more euphoric - like a frisky dog, loosed from his collar, with a long case of the zooomies’ at hand, naked again and naked forever!  \n\nHaving been collateral damage of scores (hundreds? Thousands?) of sweater/scarf/shirt/make-up battles, I say with confidence that bras have some special consideration, a Geneva convention like clause that precludes direct conscription of another’s bra.  (1)(2). Punishment having broken the Bras before Bitches rules varies from face-scratching (aggravating factors for this most severe reaction include: working out or sweating in said bra, staining said bra, or stretching said bra out with “your giant dinosaur tits” (3) to the more passive treatments like throwing said bra in the trash, along with one of your sister’s bras as tribute, or drawing smiley faces on the cups, to the threat of a ‘boob-punch’ (5)\n\nAnyway, this was just a quick shout out to Bras.  Your consistent mystery is something to behold.  To the beautiful women in my life:  May yours be form fitting, supportive, easy on, easy off, comfortable enough to sleep in if you get too drunk, machine-washable and quick to dry, and most importantly have enough heft and elasticity to rubber band shoot clear across the room with accuracy - to fling perchance to hang, where all who walk past will know - here lies woman, unbound, this is my house and I’ll be comfortable here. (4)\n\n\n\n\n1.  I do my fair share of household chores — I didn’t use to, for like, oh 20 years or so?  I did often pay for regular house keepers / nannies and gardeners —  (note to spouses: it’s one thing to always pitch in when asked to, it is entirely another to proactively do the task that needs doing…it is the latter that I’ve started to pick up on….  Note: I never felt bad about spending my money to give other people work, I wish I had meaningful work to focus on, that time will come again, for now, keep writing…oh yeah, the footnote,  I have always folded clothes (my mother was quite particular about how clothes were to be folded), but I do NOT fold bras or panties.  \n2. This is not an essay on all underwear - what goes on with the panties around here is none of my business, what I can say from casual observance is this — There are far too many pairs going around, and at the same time, not nearly enough actual panty.  There is a physics law in here somewhere; as the size of absolute P  goes up, the # of individual P goes up and the size of individual P goes down?  Working title, the Panty Paradox.   \n3. I’ve heard my daughters ‘roasting’ each other, kids do that these days?  It’s brutal and hilarious and I wish (at time of writing, they had) stop doing this— I forget who said ‘giant dinosaur tits’ or it may have been something else, the point is sisters will say some hateful shit to one another, it can break your heart as a parent.  Just keep encouraging them, force some family time / problem solving together, and show them all how much you love them all - they may not end up being best friends and that’s just ok.\n4. This saying got a little out of hand around here…this is NOT a nudist camp, I am NOT a nudist, you are NOT a nudist, put some damn clothes on…I am the only one allowed to scoot naked to the fridge and back, if I ever meet another one of you scrambling for ice cream naked, I’m sure to die of heart attack, please, a towel, something…\n5. our household’s compromise on cunt-punch, I mean, we do go into public sometimes and we do have neighbors, we’re not animals!).",
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      "body": "Dear Poggio,\n\nSee here man, you must not let that whelp talk to you like that without repercussion.   Scatterbrained, indeed.  What does the adolescent brain know of these things?  Is it his singular focus on his penis that gives such flaunt? His his dedication to the latest casino theory?  Well, at least the pay is good and Mother is surely pleased that your suffering continues unabated.  As for the decor, tell that charlatan to shit in a hat and pull the donkey’s whiskers.  Invite her and the Chef to the scene, have her gaze upon your aesthetic while en flagrante, her tune may change, perhaps it is this same yearning for Pastor Willy truly that stirs her critique?    \n\nThere has been no mention of Dad nor Father lately - he might add, Curse that Goddamn Whippersnapper, a man trying to teach treated this way, egad.  \n\nPersevere  mi hermano, overcome, endure.   Wanted to first insert a poem from my friend, the great essayist and poet - Robert J. Lennon - alas, due to copyright issues, I cannot quote directly - but something like this — Shit happens, crazy dark but normal shit happens (life, death), and small town man endures, he endures.    The books is titled, something like ‘8 Pieces fo the left hand” - worth a read.\n\n\nTruly,\nLorenzo\n\n\nScatterbrained Adolescence \n\nDad left about 6 months ago, tell him all the lies\nThe things I never do, the girls I never met\nCap the faps at 2 per day, asceticism\nThe party I did not see, the chance I never bet.\n\nThree years? Hardly the decade I spent in the guts\nPeach fuzz lost in the gnarly ball sack of the bear.  \nPartying in Greece vs. seeking the teat.\nLoose your tongue boy,  free will, devil may care.\n\nNothing to learn here, released for time served\nJesus Christ, Buddha, reddit instagram\nMy cleverness has this teacher unnerved\nText me if its hot, you know I’m there fam.\n\nHormones bely thee, ignorance your bliss\nStep up beside me, tis my ass you can kiss.",
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      "body": "Lorenzo Ardea - 08-31-17\n\nFat People & Fresh Starts\n\nWhy am I sitting I should be moving.\nSloth, stuck to the chair.  Obesity, who cares.\nClothes are ill fitting, the pants all proving.\nMind and body asleep, life must not be fair.\n\nMy fit bit is lost.  My attitude cross.\nPores clogged extra grease, the wrinkle now crease.\nMy courage is faded.  Must be all is loss.\nEating laying down, food comas for peace\n\nWriting like an old man’s stream. Dribble Drivel\nWalking like an old woman’s stride.  Slow with Pride.\nTalking like a drunk fool.  Anger of mind actions shrivel.\nLiving like a children’s game.  You seek, I will hide.\n\nMaster creator.  Still alive and well. \nWe alone determine heaven or hell?",
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      "body": "Clean Thinking - A short essay on the important things in life.\nLorenzo Ardea - Dec 2, 2017\n\nClean Thinking\n\nThere were three distinct soaps in the shower.  One a gently used solid white Hampton Inn facial bar, a smaller blue and white mash-up, and a much smaller yellowish chip.   It is known that the newbie is feeling pretty good about things, maybe a tad nervous (but he’s so much larger and cleaner than the other two!).   The aqua swirl has made peace with the situation (hint - you’re headed places you just don’t want to see or smell, you’ll just be sitting there one day - minding your business and…  And the rogue runt refuses to get onboard (getting small, that’s the secret, that and staying cold, never softening).\n\nthe water turns on.\n\nAqua Chip:  “Ok everyone huddle up.  We all know what’s coming.  You heard the me.  Lower your viscosity!  Get those guards down!  Activate Lower Activation Energy Protocols”\n\nWhite chip:  “Where am I?”  “What is going on here”. “What’s that sound?”\n\nYellow Belly:  “Bring it on”. “Bring it on Motherfucker!”\n\nIt was whitey that he chose first.  Softening him up no doubt.  Boy he’s in for a treat thought the others.  Some days he doesn’t even do the thing…maybe that’s today, that new piece is too brittle still, he’ll wait.\n\nWhite Chip:  “This feels nice, oh no, I’m getting a bit dizzy.  Quit spinning me such, unhand me, you there, unhand me.  Oh my, what’s happening to me.  I’m dying!  I’m dying!  You, you there.  Help me. Help me.\n\nAqua Chip:  “Relax.  Stop fighting it.  You will be made whole again, the more you fight it the longer it takes.  We can’t join you until you let go.  \n\nYellow Belly: Sigh.  “suckers”.’\n\nToday was a good day.  Whitey stopped crying after just a few minutes.  There was even a few soft spots showing on his backside.  The yellow man lurked in the corner, caring little about the days events, sustained yet again with hardly any water reaching him, and those drops that did mostly sliding off, is this what it means to be greasy he thought?  The Azure team called off their alarm, there was commotion from the last of the green chips about ceasing the need for alarms altogether, their natural state to be sooo neutral.  Several of the blue boys (or were they white boys, who could tell anymore?) mumbled their agreement.  \n\nThe water turns on.\n\nWhite Chip:  It’s here, he’s coming for me again.  What do I do?  Oh yeah, relax, just relax, take a breath, that’s what they told me, take a breath - AGAGGHGh!HHHHHH.  Dear god, please, oh, thank you , thank you god, thank you god.\n\nAqua Chip:   “Stations, stations.  Muster alert, Muster alert.  Lower your viscosity!  Guards down!  Activate Lower Activation Energy Protocols”\n\nYellow Belly:  I wonder what I should do today?  I’m hungry.  Damn, I still smell good.  \n\nAqua chip’s performance that day was flawless.  Several minor factions were consumed, and  there were even rumors of old yeller giving up the goose.\n\nYB:  Free to be the Mr.  (Mister). Free to be the Sir.  Watching your friends go down, that’s not for me.  I was there, I saw the stare, the fear and question in their brain. And now I bow down, it is my turn to drown, don’t cry for me.  And now you stare, at the hair, and how it clogs the DRAaaaaaain.  \n\nSoap Life - you ya don’t know it, ya ain’t lived it, you don’t know.  You can’t feel me, you thought I was slipping through your fingers, I was just getting stuck underneath your fingernails, ding dong.\n\nSo, how you doing?  I’m saying I’m doing really good if this water would turn off.\nLord have mercy, that was a downpour.  D",
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      "author": "jacquelyne",
      "body": "haha! thanks!! had cereal today. ;)",
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      "author": "steemitboard",
      "body": "Congratulations @nacho-sensei! You have completed some achievement on Steemit and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :\n\n[![](https://steemitimages.com/70x80/http://steemitboard.com/notifications/post4day.png)](http://steemitboard.com/@nacho-sensei) You published 4 posts in one day\n\nClick on any badge to view your own Board of Honor on SteemitBoard.\nFor more information about SteemitBoard, click [here](https://steemit.com/@steemitboard)\n\nIf you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word `STOP`\n\n> By upvoting this notification, you can help all Steemit users. Learn how [here](https://steemit.com/steemitboard/@steemitboard/http-i-cubeupload-com-7ciqeo-png)!",
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      "author": "japhofin8or",
      "body": "I'm so glad that you enjoyed it. Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it.",
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      "body": "I love it.  A lot of people feel the same way - F writing for an audience.  what they like about you is you.",
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      "body": "@ that weird al thing.  Here’s “Stop I’m Already Dead” from Deadboy & the Elephants -   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=juEbu44H2wE\n\nAll I did was reverse the word for each word.  ex.  They say - A spirit, I say person.  They say 'climbs’, I say ’slides’, dead/alive, you get it. Easy.  Now you do one Poggio!  If some artists hate this, I would understand.  If others like it - well, hell yeah, me too.  It’s sweet, and a little bit sad, and kinda funny.  Remember those lawyer quotes?  I do not own the rights or take credit for this song or artist. This poem is merely for the enjoyment of the public and not made for any profit.  That is, until we make Love our currency then I’m going to demand you find me irl and give me a hug.\n\n\nI’m So So Alive\n\nA person slides from my mind to my heart\nMaking their own way home again\nI have so so much room in my soul, maybe we can live there\nOf course we can\n\nStart\nI’m so so much alive\nStart\nI’m so so much alive\n\nMy my my father he said\nAint no heaven above or below\nNo\nScattered and free on the net for all to see\nIt was the flesh of another!\n\nOh, baby, we can start\nNa-na-na-oh\nI’m so so much alive, yeah.\nStart\nNa-na-na-oh\nI’m so so much alive.",
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      "body": "I wrote this one for the Dehi.  The # is the # of a star or galaxy or something, I think.  I kept seeing this star in a very small crack in the trees, just the other side of my driveway.  I fell into it, then I wanted it to stop hounding and haunting me, then I missed it when it was gone.  So I did what any beatnik hippy love junky supercuck would do - I wrote a poem about it.  \n\nLorenzo Ardea - 03-04 or 5ish, 2016\nHR-3075 - A Love Poem\n\nI have loved you for 860 years. Before that I could not afford such luxury.  For to love you is to give everything over.\nOur easter egg, the high score.  It only looks like a bird is unsure, and then certain, as to what branch is next.\nIrony is thin skinned. The truth more so.  Whilst the carpenter builds a new door, the squeaky hinge gets the grease.\nLight, Hope, Kindness, Round bellies full of beer and bar-b-que.  Well fed babies sleeping in the air conditioned spare bedroom, All of us growing up to be best friends. The sun is our campfire.  We will stop hurting each other, we’re going to be ok too.\n\nAnd if you wanted to get freaky with me, that would be cool.  I think that plant is as alive as you or I.  If you give God a name, I’m going to name that plant Raoul.",
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      "body": "Congratulations @nacho-sensei! You have completed some achievement on Steemit and have been rewarded with new badge(s) :\n\n[![](https://steemitimages.com/70x80/http://steemitboard.com/notifications/comments.png)](http://steemitboard.com/@nacho-sensei) Award for the number of comments\n\nClick on any badge to view your own Board of Honor on SteemitBoard.\nFor more information about SteemitBoard, click [here](https://steemit.com/@steemitboard)\n\nIf you no longer want to receive notifications, reply to this comment with the word `STOP`\n\n> By upvoting this notification, you can help all Steemit users. Learn how [here](https://steemit.com/steemitboard/@steemitboard/http-i-cubeupload-com-7ciqeo-png)!",
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      "body": "the piece reminds me of life (so nice tag there), of how it is either by clinging tightly / hunkering down and riding it out -- or going balls out and spreading your seed -- those are the choices, get impatient waiting, you die.  get too froggy and dive in the wrong spot - he dead.  Anyway - awesome poem, thanks for sharing.",
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      "body": "I love it.  a. yes, you will be fine.  b. stop it, stop eating men for breakfast - you are what you eat.   kudos for writing your heart out!  your words matter.",
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      "body": "Hi. I am a volunteer bot for @resteembot that upvoted you.\nYour post was chosen at random, as part of the advertisment campaign for @resteembot.\n@resteembot is meant to help minnows get noticed by re-steeming their posts\n-----\nTo use the bot, one must follow it for at least 3 hours, and then make a transaction where the memo is the url of the post.\nIf you want to learn more - [read the introduction post of @resteembot](https://steemit.com/resteembot/@resteembot/how-to-use-resteembot).\nIf you want help spread the word - [read the advertisment program post](https://steemit.com/resteembot/@resteembot/how-to-help-resteem-bot-spread-the-word).\n-----\nSteem ON!",
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      "body": "I Tried to Touch Your Heart but your Titties Got in the Way, plus Compassion and Regret.  — Lyrics by Lorenzo Ardea, sung in the style of “You Never Even Call Me By My Name” by David Allan Coe.\n\n\nWell it was all, that I could do, to keep from crying.  (lawyers)\nBut this woman, she was dealing with so much grief.  \nSo as we gathered by the body, of her just departed Dad.\nI grabbed her hand, to offer strength, and say a prayer.\n\nShe didn’t fret to lay her hand in mine.\nI didn’t fret, her shudders, they weren’t for me.\nSo as we bowed, the quiet settled, I heard me say\nI tried to touch your heart, but your titties got in the way.\n\nIt wasn’t her fault, that she wanted me to literally share her pain.  \nShe was playing her part, and I was doing my job \nIn a different scene, we’d start our romance down at chili’s\nWhere I get a free white wine at least twice a week.\nI wouldn’t need this crowd, or her half brothers and sisters staring me down.\nOur love is more than OK, it rises well above the fray\nI tried to touch your heart, but your titties, got in the way.\n\nI wrote this diddy for my brother, and at the time I was pretty sure it was the second or third best love poem ever written.\nBut when I read it to him, he reminded me, that it could not be the second or third best love poem ever, because it didn’t talk about any of the things that first drew him so near that fateful day.  I had failed to even mention the cat pee, the dent in her head, or her stench of a life not led.   So sat back down and wrote a second verse to this song, and now even he agrees, this is the second or third best love poem ever written.\n\nWhen I walked in, the reek of cat pee was overwhelming.\nFrom across the room, you could tell her deck wasn’t full.\nAnd even if she wasn’t wearing hot pink bike pants, with a life size Camel Toe.\nAnd if her trailer were twice as wide, I could never love her more.\nWho’ll visit me when I’m knocking on that dooooooorrrr\nSo I’ll hang around as long as the family let’s me (lawyers)\nAnd I never minded, touching floppy teats, but before I can leave here there’s just one thing left to say,\nI tried to touch your heart, yes I tried to touch your heart, I tried to touch your heart but your Big Old Flapjacks, your mighty meaty muffins, your big old goddamn titties got in the way.",
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      "body": "Stardate - 03/01 - 00:07 AM GMT\n\nip:12:15:26:15:\n\nNo clue wtf is going on.  The Edgar ruse reaped no benefit.  Fear is not working on them.  Their hearts and minds are too disconnected for the tell-tale verse.  Recommending immediate intervention.  Please do the needful.\n\n\nip:2:15:26:15\nIt is as planned ip:12:15:26:15.  We have sent several of our best.  Yourself included.  \n (in the background, ip:2:15:26:15 is heard whispering: he needs more time, let them both marinate, if that doesn’t fix it, reincarnate the suit one more time, muffled, sop protocols are being breeched under my command)\n\nip:12:15:26:15\nIt felt like eating a brownie, 3 Trophy Room Hot for Teacher IPA’s, lines with people, and washing it down with two Tylenol PM”s.  When you woke up you were equal parts happy to be alive and sorry you weren’t dead.  Try that on for yin and yang.\n\nip:2:15:26:15\nI fear we’ve lost him.  He’s barely cogent.  Instituting meat suit upgrade level 3 protocols, confirmation from subject pending.\n\nPoggio hadn’t felt this sort of motivation since the time in Greece.  What matter now if his name was John (it is said to be the second most popular male name in Greece) or if it was Stelios.  (#5), the story was just as incredible now as it was then.  No more believable than the color of his beard, having been colored and re-colored, through the years where it sometime became difficult to determine the original from the varnished, what was mother cloth and what was patch.   He rarely told the story anymore, and he recalled it now only in passing, things felt different now, like that Jackson Browne song - ..”though the future’s there for anyone to change, it just seems easier sometimes to change the past”, that’s how a lot of us cope, right?  We confirm our bias, we strengthen the parts of ourselves that need it most, just to keep from being ripped apart.  Everyone’s meat suit has patches.  Poggio chuckled at this thought, how ironic would it be to know that the ‘patches’ worked, that all the lies we’ve told ourselves and each other, with all the damage they have wrought, were not what was holding us together at all.  If this were a cliche’, he would go running right now.  That would be convenient, to go work out and know that the meat suit was proper.  No, the preacher had other things in mind.\n\nip:2:15:26:15\nSubject has engaged in level 3 shell upgrade protocols.  File auditor alert confirmed: Firmware update is imminent.  \n\nWalking felt different.  The knee bone’s connect to the thigh bone, the femur is the lever, the old man has a fever and that’s the way of the lord.  Probs best to ditch that mantra.  They might not understand.  And on it went, superior thoughts, clarity even.  His husky voice less Tom Waits, and more, Tom, wait, stop screaming at us.  It didn’t matter, nothing but truth from here on out.  Self-fenestration is most definitely a step up from spilling one’s mind, I mean, there’s that one thing, and then there is intentionally letting someone see your insides?  Egad.\n\nThere may be no other way to make the connection, the truth is the only way he can see me.\n\nMostly, commuting.\n\nip:1:1:1:1\nI am not sure if “I” am any longer.  The drones appear as much like me as they did yesterday, yet somehow I am removed, and not in a parental “I’ll just leave well enough alone sense”, much more in a “I’ll do what I like, and maybe lie to you about it so that you think it was what you like but you’ll never know” type of way.  Like Theseus’ ship, there are no parts that I recognize anymore, what’s left behind never was, and what is here now keeps changing.  I rather enjoyed my time on this planet, where to next?",
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      "body": "I know a guy who’s old but fleet\nA true survivor that can’t be beat.\nProwling the depths with dark desire.\nSets the summer sun on fire.\n\nSharks wants Surfers\nSharks want Surfers\n\nGoing to tempt him while I try to drown.\nAin’t a thing that would make him frown.\n\nYou are my cartilaginous fish.\nGoing to serve your fin in every dish.  Sad! \n\nSharks want Surfers\nSharks want Surfers\n\nYeah!\n\nsurfers in the calm there’s nothing better\nbut I like surfers in stormy weather\n\nNext full tide I’ll make you mine\nThen I’ll have Surfer’s all the time.",
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      "author": "nacho-sensei",
      "body": "There are long held notions of the body as temple.  I'm in the \"I have no clue\" and '50/50 nat/nurt' camp.  What you say resonates with my current thinking.   What you put into the system/loop/body seems to have some effect...no?  Live long and prosper TK.  Thanks for the think.",
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      "author": "nacho-sensei",
      "body": "Cruising with Lorenzo and the Dehi  - A true story turned journal entry on good intentions and bad ideas.\n\nOn Hunger:  While Dr. Dao and his indignities dominated the airwaves, there were others out there suffering as well.  Egad man, all those delta passengers stranded in Atlanta, the reservations lost, the tens of thousands of people that starved to death that day, and the passengers of the 4 night Royal Caribbean cruise ship, Travesty of the Seas.  Forced to eat that slop or hurl your body off the side, the sophie’s choice that all passengers faced at some point.    Driven by this caloric rampage, this energy gobbling - flaunting it for sex and false comfort —  Finally, the penance I deserved.  So much wasted food, so steamy and luke warm.  Difficult to tell if it was previously hot food that had cooled, or long ‘cooked’ bits that had grown to room temp.  The next time I’m super hungry, I will think fondly of the Starlight/Moonlight/Shithold cafe’ (whatever hateful name they called it) until then, I’ll be watching what I eat, trying slow down a bit, to not waste food, and chewing with my mouth closed (dear Lord, these people are in a frenzy, I saw them mowing down the exact same buffet 5 hours ago, do they not realize or do they not care it is the carcass of today’s earlier meal? Cruising isn’t for fat people, too tight - hallways, beds, too many steps — No.  Cruising is a gateway drug to obesity and sloth.  This is indicated by many factors, not the least of which is how much worse the room service food is (words fail on how to describe it in comparison to the grazing pen grub), cruise room service food is an odd thing…grotesque and the height of it, save me.  Separating this understanding of starvation, the very real need to consume energy, the life-eats-life-eats-life reality of things - with the patience and understanding that we are smart enough to feed us all - truly, I think we’ve figured that out, it will take years to spread it globally, but we can do it technically -\nI spoke to the following alone:  5 family members, ~5 employees from the 10th deck pool bar and the same number in the Shithold Cafe.  I spoke to our two amazing waiters (truly - the staff on this ship were gracious, the general level of politeness felt heightened all around - perhaps the abundance of the sea, the sunsets, the booze, the fully sated and scantily clad homo sapiens of all shapes and sizes , 3 people in the spanish disco lounge, and everyone in the casino.  \nAmazing - relative few interactions, we still struggle with Data i.e. digital connectivity in real-time.  I should write commercials/essays/start companies about it - (Business idea: this data constraint is the #1 issue.  Give the data away and they will walk off bridges for you, data is the carrot. B2C constant, B2B reality, and internal fallacy - Data, all good. You’ve been trying to sort it for folk, best now to focus on gathering - perhaps you are not a curator, you are a gatherer, this would make sense at a fractal level)  It freaks them (2) out to not be connected to the internet - and then they yearn for the open seas, private beaches, eclectic local personalities, food, drink, Sun and Set.  What gives?\nThere’s nothing a man wants for more after dancing alone, on an empty dance floor(14), than the comfort of some solo chess and his 9th Heineken. \nExcepting the kindness of a stranger.  \nIf we watched our kindness like we did our pennies, knowing that taking care of those would take care of the love and dollars, that would be a start.  Stop making people feel bad, start with yourself.  Hold the door for a ’stranger’, wait an uncomfortably long time to do it - smile and just say, pleasure, or nothing.  Do it for an ugly person, science tells us we give them less distance to cover to get this simple mitzvah.  When you see someone holding a door too long, speak to them, say - Thanks Brother/Sister, how are you today?  Awesome.  Feels great.\nI have finally assumed my open writing position.  Physically speaking of course.  Eyes up.  Mrs. Parker at West Cary high school taught me this - I wonder how dialed in she was? \nUnless we believe our brains are in our hands - and why the hell not.  Science I guess.  So if the hand is reacting, or the mouth is speaking, there has been a synapse / electrical pulse telling you to /insert human trick \n How is it?  So few control so much?  Someone famous or not said - power isn’t passed down/inherited/gifted - it is seized/conscripted (who said this first - I heard Ismail say several times that no one empowers you, you empower yourself - it is a misnomer to say you empowered someone (you were kind to them, you sparked their optimism, joy, forgiveness - they suffered less.)  To really jump it off - I think you have to start thinking a bit differently - I’ve always sought a solution/the answer — it’s really the questions that are much more important — And what would those be?\nEnough - it is a blessing to be alive today.  Share your food.  Don’t break in line - and when you get older, and for all your others - no more fucking lines - just polite, let’s eat.  much like the data issue, the food issue.  there is plenty - it’s sort of fucked up, maybe some sub-concious species level instinct to not grow too large, like we were monkey’s or something.  lol.  \nMonkey’s and labels - categorization is succubus to separation.  Stop it - we all one.  It’s OK.\n \n\n\n(2) - Lorenzo’s brother and sister entered a cabal one day.  He had learned of several misgivings (felonies?) and something had to be done.  Sonja: Let’s tell him he was born in a cabbage patch.  Tell him he was adopted. No, tell him he is from Mars.  Poggio: Better idea, let’s ignore him, that will tear him up.  He’ll have to buy his friends.  \n\n(14) to some mad beats, with exceptional rhthym/timing/balance - someone probably wrote an opera while watching it.  My hips were in tune with the rhthym of the ship that day, my moves shortened to compensate for the to, and the fro, lol…that’s funny just to type, I’m sure I was a happy, albeit somewhat hyper/over-stimulated/over-served human being - and maybe no one saw it, and maybe no one read this far - and that’s all good.  Friends.  Stop recording shit and start doing it — A: think Fit Bit only camera - body-cam for life - the money is in the storage/retrieval - the devices will be cheap to make.  I know people that have these engineering skills.  Physical AND Digital.  That’s where it’s at.  But mostly physical, moving your body with your mind, making others do the same, that shameless flow, taking a headache for this lame ass dance floor, this is how ones does the disco.  His discos, is good.  \n\n\nQuick note before fading:  Jesus turned water into wine, not the other way around.  \n\nStems fairly begs me to post w/ impunity - y'all figure out the damn punctuation.  I barely got the words out.  MWahaahhaaaa",
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      "body": "Up on the roof top Gregor sang, slinging the iron, doing his thing.\nProviding sound shelter, making a buck.  These beautiful children, not believing his luck.\nIt can start with a diddy, a haiku, a love song.  It can be short like this one, or it could ramble on.\nClever and cheeky, or sly with much guile.  Complex and riddled or simple and silly.  \nThe process, the journey, the intention all matter.  You’ll think to yourself, I’m mad as a hatter!\nYou’ll write on and ride on and it’s good either way - this poem is for you Greg, so what do you say?\n\n\n</poem>\n\nJust a way to say - yes man, write some poems for us.  When people ask me what I write, my first answer is “Mostly drivel”.  You’ll be amazed at how forgiving your reader is…and if they don’t like it, well, there’s plenty of other drivel to choose from.  One Love.  -Nacho.",
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      "body": "Thank you for this thoughtful post.   When the yearn to write is so powerful, and I can't quite find the connection between the muse, my hands, and the pc - I'll resort to some structured verse - sonnets are a great way for me to pull that focus together.  I also will take the music I'm listening to and use the same rhyming and/or structure - and then I just write.  I also prefer to write under a pseudonym - it's just too painful to face some of these thoughts head on - these two approaches allow me to write with less self-judgment.  I also struggle to resist the temptation to edit while I write -- and paradoxically the disdain I feel for editor's in general - i.e. Editing is my jam - those exquisite final touches, yet I wonder how much that dilutes the original message?  all a way to say - thanks again for posting this - writing has helped me lose and find my mind several times -",
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      "body": "Waltz of the Flora\n\nWhat to say, what to say, what to say, start with the truth. \nWhat to say, what to say, what to say,\nOr maybe say that. \n\nBuild it up, a lot, add some plans, It doesn’t mater too much. \n\nDid you hear what he said, ><<>\nI heard what he said - still skeptical, define true.\n\nThen it comes to you.  Your breath is foul and fully bated, your soul on auction. \nBeethoven died and Mozart cried.  Your homage turned mockery.   Watch, I’ll show you.  Stick around, pay attention long enough, and you will be certain.  Hey, so good.  I’m still here.   Now let’s hear from you.\nI’ll be there waiting on your promises, dying by the one’s I made to you.\nRobert said don’t ask no questions.  Jerry said don’t tell no lies.\nYour mama said it’d be OK.  Might sting for a bit, then your moving on, mended harder and not giving a damn.\n\nEasy now, slow it down.  You’re talking with angels today.  \n\ninterlude\n</poem>\n\n\n\n\n1. putting word to the epic symphonies.  I lost my mind trying to accomplish this.  To wit, I’m setting down to try again.\n2. selective deltionismism. I don't know what this means - I faintly recall it making me laugh.\n3. Everyone should lost their mind a couple of times. - Duncan Trussel circa 2017.",
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      "body": "Terrywordcraft - thank you for sharing.   The rain has stopped, the mud is dry...it's ended.  Encouragement from here for you to tell us about what it feels like when you recognize that inner strength.  Your new friend.  Nacho.",
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      "body": "Dearest Poggio,\n\nPlease, I insist, stop reading this letter and get some sleep.  The absence of pain is a worth while pursuit.  Judging another's path to the same is not recommended.  If Ed Too Tall Jones and Cheryl Miller grew old, moved to a Grand-Village adult hospice w/ benefits community, and proceeded to pee the place full well, then whatever, that's their jam.   Let them do Ed Too Tall and CM and you do Poggio.  Write soon, or send a painting something.  Much love.  \n\nLorenzo.\n\n\nGin and Death\n\nI’m at my bar now.  So this will have to be quick.  \n\nAn unexpected death — (aren’t they all) an older man and his wife had very bad dementia, their nephew didn’t want to tell the wife of her husband 65 yrs death.  Poggio begged to differ.  His indulgence (hubris?) for having worked this circuit for so long, he lost one uncle, Poggio had buried hundreds.  Jr:  \"She’ll just be sad for a minute and then forget\"—  P:  I respect that,  BUT, let me think about that.  (and it starts)\n\nShe knows in her spirit that he is dead.  Give her a moment, tell her he’s gone.  Aunt Cheryl would appreciate that..it would be a mitzvah.  Do what you wish.  \n\nHe did it with Pggio’s help — this joyfully demented alzheimers type former world class athlete, and not just too tall and scary person.  What is it ?\n\nCheryl:  Please, let me finish my tea — I don’t want to go subconsciously -- Cheryl knows Ed Too Tall Jones is dead.\n\nThe golden years that no one knows.  True love.  We pray.  Amen.  'Whatever'  Giggle, 'Whatever'.\n\nshe KNEW she KNEW she KNEW — \n\nThe  battle between spirit and what her mind didn’t know \n\nI’m getting him ready — going to pour him a Gin and die.",
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      "body": "You're welcome. Being kind to the monkey is a very strong tool. I try not to get too overwhelmed by its noise and simply letting it go.",
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      "body": "The fact you can 'think about the thinker' is big.  Give the monkey mind something simple to focus on, like your breath.   Be kind to the monkey mind.  Thanks for the reminder - and thanks for sharing your poetry, Awesome!",
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      "body": "@@ -2607,17 +2607,20 @@\n ndness, \n-R\n+my r\n ound bel\n@@ -2620,19 +2620,17 @@\n und bell\n-ies\n+y\n  full of\n@@ -2640,33 +2640,41 @@\n er, \n-babies, and bar-b-que.  T\n+your round belly full of life,  t\n he s\n@@ -2691,16 +2691,45 @@\n campfire\n+, our love an abiding shelter\n .  Stop \n",
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      "body": "Dearest Poggio,\n\nSharing a love poem I wrote for the Dehi.  It is inspired by the star -HR 3075, in the constellation Camelopardalis.    Likewise, I see here in cousin Ludwig's words of enouragement he wrote to one of his fans, something you have encouraged me with lately.  To write, to explore, to steem (sic) ahead as it were...\n\n>Do not only practice art, but get at the very heart of it; this it deserves, for only art and science raise men to the God-head. If, my >dear Emilie, you at any time wish to know something, write without hesitation to me. The true artist is not proud, he >unfortunately sees that art has no limits; he feels darkly how far he is from the goal; and though he may be admired by others, >he is sad not to have reached that point to which his better genius only appears as a distant, guiding sun.\n\nhttps://www.brainpickings.org/2017/05/18/beethoven-emilie-letter/\n\nWhen so much clatter today is about constraint, how innovation percolates best under pressure, how one must 'fast-fail' and be 'agile'.   Perhaps you and Beets were on to something as well.  If we are to evolve with intention, it follows that tradition must be challenged - if not shattered.  Granting the first and second laws of thermodynamics as excellent frameworks from beginning our studies - do we not know now, that we do not know exactly the framework that holds these two hostage?  Does either mandate a particular form of energy or pace of entropy?  And does asking those questions yoke you to a miserable slog to the ne'er to be reached beacon?   Indeed, I have lost sight of shore brother, there are no bannisters anymore and vertigo swirls all around me.\n\nHow I admire a woman like Hannah Arendt - \nhttp://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/4712/thinking-without-a-banister-by-hannah-arendt/9780805242157/\n\nIf my message makes it back, for now, tell them I row blindly, yet steadfast as ever. \n\nI hope this note finds you well, and that life is not too weird for you these days.  Good luck with that.  \n\nManiacal laughs, deep bows, intense eye contacts, and uncomfortably (until they are not) long and strong hugs.\n\nLorenzo\n\n\nLorenzo Ardea, 03-03, 04 ish, 2016\n\nI have loved you for 860 years. Before that I could not afford such luxury.  For to love you is to give everything over.\nOur easter egg, the high score.  It only seems that the bird is unsure, and then certain, as to what branch is next.\nDo not think Irony is dying.  What is funny is changing, if it were not incongruent it risks not be funny.  Whilst the carpenter builds a new door, the squeaky hinge gets the grease.\n\nLight, Hope, Kindness, Round bellies full of beer, babies, and bar-b-que.  The sun is our campfire.  Stop hurting each other, Start with you and I, it’s going to be ok.  And if you want to get freaky deaky…  That plant is as alive as you or I.  God’s name is Now.",
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