iPigeon.institute blog: mystic Christianity

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Showing posts with label mystic Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystic Christianity. Show all posts

Friday, February 28

Pretty pigeon, fluffy feathers.

I would term this “kitsch;” (perhaps, - :/ .. ) yet charming: I’d say, for its playful, candid, yet charming and affectionate [that it were, for the sake of the fact that the bird had distinguished itself before me, ahead of the boundaries stayed at by the rest of the flock, as though it were wittingly posing as the pretty bird, and that he’d been brought up of virtuous establishments and charms of his plumage, that he ought demonstrate and appeal upon me, as the morning’s caretaker of the animal’s daily necessity of, and significant life’s formative pursuit [of a pigeon, and it’s companions in the flock] - of discovering food, that he is also a good bird; for me, a personally touching moment, in that I had regularly frequented the Grand Park grounds, in years past, as a homeless person who was, then, and now, and from the time therein, between when I had taken upon myself the promise to nurture the local flocks of sparrows and pigeons, such that were found at the park, and as well, in other areas in DTLA, and outlying localities where I’d come across flocks and establishments of  [somewhat] “homed,” (I estimate, colloquially an amateur of the richer and obvious context of a more well-domesticated and intentionally localized, through nurturing, over years, of effecting a lofted (perhaps) establishment of pigeons), that might be more imaginably relevant, within a personal context, given urban society, of that we acknowledge that people in other urban metropolises have established trained flocks of pigeons, for racing, for show, for messaging, etc. 

In all of the richer context of what might be understood of the charm of the photographic composition, and of the story of that the bird might be seen to have been intelligently attempting to “woo“ me of a more consistent affections and cares to be offered to them, it’s fairly deeply much more tenderly sentimental, in that I’d, at times, have become ineffectual, forgetful, neglectful, detracted from, or thwarted in - various claims, all amounting to that I had neglected to return to the common establishments of the various flocks, around town, that I could regularly and capably fulfill my commitments to them, and that the purpose of such things were that I would expect that the birds would perform slight miracles of animal behavior for people to admire, of them, for having been cared for, and nurtured, of my participatory influence and small acts of attesting to the virtues of perseverance in seeing the promises carried out, on a gradual, and measured basis - attesting to the religious connotation of establishing a serenity amongst the surroundings of nature among us, and of God’s creatures, that the figure of Saint Francis of Assisi is carried forth, in our common societal mind, as classically relevant and emblematic of an unending foundation of what goes to be carried forth, in life, and society, of that we accept Christ and his teachings, and his notable followers, throughout time, as constantly needful identities in and of ourselves, to discover, and praise, for the natural and spiritual truths that the hold in our lives, that we might, in that Saint Francis is a popularly celebrated saint of our nation’s embrace, and understanding. 
as one significant context. The other, I imagine (having become distracted, for touching upon the more important context of religious significance in our commonly spiritually destitute lives, in urban society - [and doing it long-winded, at that] {hopefully within grasp of comprehension, though} - that this bird was, indeed, one of my ones that I’d cared for, in previous years, and how personally at detriment I’d become, of battling through irreverent and seditious human affairs, to the failure of loving kindness and nurturing, of which the (aside <_ -="" a="" addressing="" all="" and="" as="" asunder="" at="" attesting="" been="" bird="" bitterly="" but="" care="" carrying="" cast="" center="" contexts="" decree="" demand="" diet="" disavowed="" effecting="" end="" environment="" ethical="" fearfully="" field="" finest="" font="" for="" forth="" friends="" go="" gone="" grounds="" had="" have="" i="" in="" is="" issue="" it="" knowledge="" lack="" locales.="" many="" me="" minds="" mouths="" native="" needful="" needs="" not="" nurturing="" obviously="" of="" on="" other="" our="" performance="" perhaps="" pigeons="" positive="" psychology="" reinforcement="" s="" sake="" sciences="" so="" social="" sparrows="" support="" surrounding="" sustainability="" that="" the="" their="" there="" these="" things="" to="" understanding="" unfed="" upon="" urban="" was="" we="" weeks="" well="" would="">

In summary, the bird seemed to intelligently attempt, in a common bird’s psychologically natural manner, in preening himself, in evincing affections upon me, for the promise of returning more regularly for a feeding, of his formerly more consistent expectations that I would have been seen to have fulfilled for them, when I lived amongst them, on a day-to-day basis, as that I lived outdoors, nearby and within the same park, itself, which they’d since have had established some community and charm, of that the sparrows accompany the pigeons, as well - and that they have their own amusing and individual species’ manner of eating the bread, or tucking it away, for collecting, as the little ones do. 
 

Thursday, May 3

A jaunted, of the moment, yet not unaffectionate tête-à-tête on Paul Holman

It’s could not go without statement to that effect. 

I’d ventured into themepark amusement park notion enterprise, of mock-up talk- a la tête-à-tête too cute for keeping to myself; the short of it is that it’s a classic young guy’s drama of a “hey, lady (young, acquantaincship, etc., met -“ I need a place to not sleep tonight. Can I come over? And then, here, there’s no girl, obv 🙄 the guy finds himself as a free bird, ostensibly, suited to a particularly washed up homeless guy tranny effects ostensible amusement of a closet-lived scrum materials-had have been arrivée, pour soi, j’ai l’eu I’ll et non se Quotidien pas, pass the breadcrumbs materials nuclear recycling efforts, off handed resource enterprise morning after talk of a notably scrum-made asphalt decay and disrespect, as would have you: the neurotic self-loner, shown up by night, as an endless ranting stalking target -yet “perhaps,” as suitably cadential buttforce all pirates cadet unbuttlovin, though, no going beyond way butthole leisurely about it, it’s not wuffff.. 🙄😗 like Paul’s used to be.

But the a notable 2-3 segment attraction of amusement ostensibly non-constituent taxbearer trampled-on needful types as would find themselves, couldn’t but pay for the drugs, only, as fate would have it, obv. Etsy Etsy, like blahhhh a fuckboymusementtastictastic tête-à-tête accoutrement to an as yet unprecedented fuckboytastastic take on how bout this one, for tonight? How bout it? Slight broadcast ambiance, leave the French out of this one, it’s an all American jaunt, GW Bush would be proud of his daddy, then go on to shame the as yet unheralded sticklers of dick picklin’ swizzle sticks, as yet, but, not to go unfucked you, ballsack, what’s this? The okay, first off, stop pokin’ yer silly, a la Instagram of my doing. Perhaps add the kitsch, as a notable emotional peak of the check closet. GWBush. The new the scrum and materials crumbs check leisure hours of entertainment checkin? Then, ostensibly, I would have courted a suitably respectful clientele showing such that they wouldn’t steal my iPigeon iPad, with 700+ apps. Perhaps they would find life ostensibly suitable, as have you: an iPigeon institute? To speak of? 

That would be beyond an unslight ink brush illustration entrétien, French enough, amber Beardsley, check, couture breakdown prices thing, Chanel, check, then: yet French, to begin: a dalliance du jour fuckboy foray of so not unsuitably notable fuckboytastasticness, gotta see it. Handwritten originals: one wall. 

Now...we’re on to the aesthetics. Not shown up for Play, or anything. It’s a not unslight art exhibition of a so many personas trifling fletch pigeon feeder bum artistic Franciscan hermetic Dev ops tech-made silicon-beach talk up, to speak of, you know how bitch ass hooker they did this one: now, he does pigeons du jour. on the broadway of beach walk, broadway of dtla walk, all sorts of unprecedented pigeons flock for a sacramento’s Young boy aficionado dreams to the foray... so iPigeon.institute dot blog worthy asterisks could not deliver yet as of enough bitch ass hookers, yet pigeons? So better, how could you? 

🙎🏻‍♀️🙎🏻‍♀️🐥🤳🏾🤷🏾‍♀️🙍🏽‍♀️

How could you? Bitch ass hookers? There’s pigeons that need to be fed.

And this is the bum reality show real bums of Los Angeles, real pigeons, real bitch ass hookers won’t feed them, the bums, except through tossing out garbage, that’s a pigeon’s life. That’s the take on the bum showing up for an amusement park take on this apartment jaunt section 8 thing. Address is listed, if you care to find it. Don’t make noise there, though, and no smoking. No noise. No violence. No nothing, it’s  a pigeon slight ink brush illustration aficionado exhibit of hotness unslight French aficionados only: for aficionados : only. Patterns of clumped muse to see posed-as they did themselves pigeons? Srsly... in RGB ostensible fletch MTV fletch style parameters, as if stereoscopic could outflank an ink brush aficionado moment: for real aficionados, only.

It was so inktober 2017. It’s a slight living room exhibition. It’s a scrum checkin’ it jaunt dive movement, if it has you, at that. For all I checked, the last I left it, I couldn’t find the panties in there, for me, have at it amusement park, slight ambient occlusive yet as streets beyond hearing has had it, not an unslight bitch ass hooker jaunt, for an as yet unheralded walk out talk up mock up tranny du jour demographic. So on a lean, perhaps. I was. I figure, it’s ostensible, relatable, people wanted to srsly break in and supersede me doing digital as have you originals over of the ink brush illustrations front living room, to speak of. It’s a serious treasure of fuckboy Los Angeles: one of them - all ballsack, up in this apartment, for walk ups, for all Los Angeles to come.

No more would ... quotables. You understand. It’s a suitable social enterprise of as not to exploit the fragile femininity that’s at the truthful foray of the masculine’s identity debacle, to find him a suitable demographic walk-in suit yourself.quotable.


Anyways, it was me, well enough without you, enough to be a first take on a bold, more new, more assertive pigeon jogging bum fashionable techniathleisure able institute jaunt, here; as a single cardinal destination of a fashionable bum athleisure persona push it devops cartilage? No nepotism, of seriously corporate serious guys who can fletch an okay, feed them garbage, bums, for being a corporate deprecation mock-up, to speak of, him? And then others like him, would be, has had, have had you, had happened was, maybe, it trasncends even racial boundaries, 🤷🏾‍♀️ I dunno...? I need polling stats. 

It’s definitely not an unslight psychological foray of beyond Freudian unslips of social blunder whatever etsies: here, we recycle cosbies and make breadboard PCBs signature scratch. Printed flattened pennies of $.50 pennies paid worth; perhaps it’s cheese. I don’t provide food. Come in, do it like you’re there - blaaaooowwwww. A pigeon ink brush illustration exhitbition with notably esteemed, talkup french modernism 50’s aestheticism? No young Los Angeles know-better could have done better fuckboy tastastic tasteless marketing as the former craigslist software guy, “positioned: ‘but what about his art?’” 

What about I fuck myself all about his living space? He’s not there? 🤷🏾‍♀️🙎🏻‍♀️🤳🏾 

Okay, that’s dreaming, lol. You get the idea. But for, perhaps a daytime walk up couple? That kinda kinda could thing could pass.

The knee jerk physiognomy is beyond unsellable, such as to be reiteratively irrelevant - what I just said. Somebody would pay for it,

No.

They do art walks of young Los Angeles, okay. It’s free.

This would be a notable curated, at times, walk-off abandonment fuckme okay, he’s out feeding pigeons, again, as the notable athleisure pigeon jogging feeding the pigeons bum, yet again. Quotables kinda stuff. 

But people don’t like me, particularly, personally, and as such, don’t trust me. Perhaps maybe one day you
L catch wind and simply check it out for the serious pigeons, not unslight efforts into design aesthetic, all taschen, so fuckboy dicks in your face kinda aficionado, unabashedly, yet a dalliance du jour suitably lovable trifle notion foray, who could resist it? Yet I don’t trust people srsly to not steal, outright, the iPigeon iPad.

💁🏻‍♂️

Be it what it may, I might show you, Paul, my notable developments into your industry, as perhaps developments, etc., and also show you stuff that I’m notably working on, it’s on my social media public dump stuff also. You can totally check it out yourself, and I’d think that you would be on iPad yourself, by now, no less, seriously. It’s all of life, at times. 


Okay, that’s all. Love you, pigeons, muahhh!

Bye Paul. I’ll see you soon. 

❤️💕💥💥💥☺️

Latest post.

The pigeons eat cheesecake, at the DTLA Central Library (photo blog).

 I captured some photos of the pigeons getting messy, while enjoying some cheesecake, yesterday, at the library. 

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