Then I was a bird of prey only to find other birds of prey worn walls of gray and soot upon the floor and on the cars. Sun beams floating by the sky. Dreams on and on movies, ideas, utopia. Wings to fly.

Living life involves a mortality that would keep life interesting, including our strange encounters with death.

At this time in our long history on this planet as humans I think it is the right time to renew the debate of nature vs. technology.

 

People in New Age often talk about the power of belief, but what seems more normal is our great human talent at disbelieving. As if something must not be actual even if in front of your nose, especially when it's a very new experience and uncommon to those you think are normal. Please respond.

To me science is more than just seeking truth, it is about finding very exact truths, no theory, just compelling, hopefully exciting facts. I exist, therefore I think I am, doing.

 

Science on the brain with Mark Guttman: I don't want to take the simulation hypothesis into my thought process. It seems like a rabbit hole. Yet it is in agreement with what looks to be deep questions about free will. It's not clear that we have no free will, but how we do have any at all. The direction of the better world project seems unifying and a fact of human survival. That golden age is in our reach if we all work to get there.

 

So Bill is doing fine. I had my doubts, but really I am more prone to hardships then him. I wonder if someone has taken on his identity. Oregon actually tried to steal the character which is why he worm holed through a portal from Portland Oregon to Portland Maine. He wanted to be closer to the ocean anyway. I would also say that he is not into drugs and stays clear of the wrong people.

 

Think for yourself.

 

Creating peace when there is some lack of it is an active thing to do. Changing the world doesn't mean losing your balance. Be balanced and be an example.

 

Your not inside the room, inside, inside, or anywhere, since yourself went asleep in the interests. and the roads go circular, pictures and painting replace photos, and screens remove you, it is a dream crashing again another day another broken window, a day may come, we never know, the wind howls.

 

It is not just simple.