A journey less travelled then my own

A JOURNEY LESS TRAVELLED THAN MY OWN

It is a charge to all of us that lies in our destined paths to verge into this mico space of life amongst the many voices here . 
This spot is a chamber of souls different and yet we are similar with versions we are all trying to write in order to acheive self worth and pure happiness. 
Each path is marked different of why, and how we got here. 
None the less, we survived the battle to get ourselves here. To seek out what makes sense, and find some balance to what makes each of us so special. 
Its like we are stepping on the bones of a great many soles who came before us,  but yet they never made it as far as we have come.  The generations forgotten who had no society to support their journey or cross over. They gave into the societal inturnment, frought with tormented tragic ends 
Far too many gave into the darkness rather then living to seek their truth. 
When we come too these chambered spaces to seek out a part of life seeking to hallow out some tiny sense and a trace of some transparenent from a hidden life. Those more travelled or crossed over please listen for the ones falling between the cracks and hear their cry of help. Grant them a soft spot to come into so they can hear our guidance and softer words so they can explore their self to find some begining inner peace and discovery. 
Remember this one thing as anyone journeys here to seek some resemblance of solace. Not all souls are the same that have arrived. Some souls so tattered, worn and confused they just need our shoulder of support and encouragement.They need support of peace, kindness, and loving soul. For they have battled long, or got lost along their way to get here. Therefore... WHISPER THE GRATITUDE OF SPIRIT, GUIDE THEM WITH HARMONY OF TRUE INNER PEACE.  GRANT THEM A VOICE FOR THEIR DUALITY OF DIFFERENT SPIRITS.  THEY HAVE BEEN GRANTED THIS SPECIAL JOURNEY IN LIFE TO SEEK . 
Here is the gift of sister/ brother hood of companionship to be provided to any lost soul.  To assist in a happy journey to ALL,   AND NOT JUST THE FEW. LET NOT ONE OF US PASS UNDER OR FALL TO ANY DARKNESS. Guide each new souL washed upon our chambered shores with a loving heart. Be kind, and pay it forward to the many souls waiting to find their peace and self. 
To all, now and forever, Walk in my path I have paved,  so your journey is less travelled than my own.

Airscoop
Oct 29 2019 5.15pm

Amy's Cry in the forrest .

SHE CAME TO ME IN A WHISPER HOLLOW FROM THE FORREST
I WENT
I FOLLOWED HER CRYING VOICE THOUGH THE FORESTED TREES
I SEARCH THE ECHOING Pines
TILL AT LAST THERE SHE LAY IN a HUDDLE MASS
I RACED TO WHERE SHE LAY ...
KNELT DOWN TO COMFORT THE BROKEN MASS
WITHOUT A WORD I EMBRACED HER SPIRT AND SHHHhhh her quite
And stopped HER WHIPERING CRY ..
I SMILED TO HER FROZEN LOOK AND SAID ... I
M HERE FROM AFAR BUT NOT MOVING AWAY
I BRUSHED HER HAIR BACK AND TOOK HER IN MY EMBRACE
YOUR CRIES HAVE LEAD ME HERE AND HERE I REMAIN STEADFAST TO OUR CAUSE
ITS HERE WE MAKE OUR PEACE AND FIND OUR HAPPINESS
This is our forrest our space and our time Look no futher gaze not past ...your hero has arrived ... The hero you cried to find . Airscoop sept 6 2019

This Space of Boxes

I cross the line to join a mumbling line of voices. In that mumble I find the mix of reality against a landscape of false faked person's relflecting personas enriching their own self ego's.
I see splashes of new portraits that pop on scene and begin their acting roles online to the new hoard of mostly AOL expatriates who immigrated to this new space.
Amongst hardcore social networked veterans who are aboriginal's that spare off against the young flashing  new stars who want to overthrow the old to the new.

I ask myself why am I amongst this group and what is my part I wish to interact with this mass? I found myself using this as a mirror of my own reality to be In a global community of voices trying to control a box of spaces  amongst them all against each other and creating drama far and  high and so  wide that in those boxes they fight to control and even maintain peace by  block kick and boot all to  control power of the box they don't have in reality.

My  little tiny voice of reason ,a fellow of laughter and seriousness that wants to mingle my own ego and pass the time by escaping my own  reality long enough to breath what I thought was fresh air of me being myself  to this mixed boxed spaces of unrealness. Finding just a tiny grain of people like me amongst the contrasting apposite profiles of unreal. I find I am entertained myself to the soap opera of the internet! That air I breath by  mixing myself into the chattering masses , is so toxic at times and full of vial racist  hatred and the  vast array of bullying and harassment. Hey I say to myself , but it's only a reflection  of real life ! So escaping my reality is just temporary. That's all this space can ever can  be. airscoop Oct 13 2018

The Passing of a friend's Engine

DEARLY DEPARTED ...we gather here today to say good bye to our beloved friends engine today.

Let it be said that each engine is unique and how it departed us was a tragedy.

As we say goodbye to this egnine it is hoped that a reborn one will be part of our lives soon and restore the greatness of the car and passengers it tried to service.

I want us to remember that the day of the engine's death , that as the single shot from the rod that ended its life, this engine did not give out and continued to crawl to safety and continued to drive to protect the great passengers and cargo before it's last breath of O2 was exhausted.

To this end we commite you engine to the great scrap heap in the sky and await your triumph return in you next life as a new engine block.
God speed our dear sweat engine


airscoop Aug 15 2018 5pm

Without question marks

WITHOUT QUESTION MARKS When the emptyness of a fallen glass shatters to the floor, does that resemble and mean the shatters of a boken spirit truly breaks the human being into many a thousands peices . A burning candle sitting on a single wooden table in an empty room reflecting the shadows and light casting voids of the true emptyness of the room it is in. When a mother craddles her crying baby is she also applying comfort directly to her doubts and her discomforts of her lifes past exiatance. If so can a father find this same solace , or is he the male left out because of overwhelming misdirection passed from father to son. In war when we kill the enemy do we kill a tiny fraction of the sane side of humanity and open the flood gates of mankind's barberick dilemma of choosing to kill or be killed when in fact the choice should be what instead. Maybe life is less complicated when we just ask simpler questions of ourselves and not dwell into the darkness of the struggle between the ethos and demon that could lie inside all of us as we fear the demon could come out in us if we think there too long. Why does growing up mean the abondoment of imingination and creativity which mostly gets stiffled by the corruption of the overwhelming power of the age of passage and is dominated by the pressure to be better and overachieve. Is not our human condition to seek out our existance in the simpler form of mere peace harmony and happiness that is provided automatically by the natural world already without question. If you read these questions and begin to feel something stir inside does that mean the true purpose of why I wrote this was to influence you to stop for a second in time to think of matters closer to their heart and soul. Maybe, I did it to create conflict against everyone reading it as their innocencent thinking no longer exist as they have grown up and stopped asking themselves deeper life question. I think all the reason here are why I wrote this, and even more reason than I have shared in this peice. Everyone walk away knowing that thinking is our gift of our humanity. The true gift we all share against the darkness and bleakness of the stresses of everyday life. Everyone's thinking is their canvas of paint. May we all think long and hard and paint our pictures more truely tommorrow than we did today before reading this. Aiscoop June 3 2018 9:3

https://www.wireclub.com/chat/room/adult_discretions

this is my new room everyone come support

The Wake of Life

The Wake of Life. Losing a sole amongst a family is  losing a part of ourselves. The lose of each departed person is a waterfall  giving birth to a river of sorrow and pain. Those that are left, are burdened into  heavy hearts of  the person who no longer stands amongst them. The lives who depart have ended their waves of life. They cast their lives from the  wave to the wake in order for us to live within their memories. Every wave of every body of water is a soul coming back to greet us. In that wave of life, the living must surf the wake of memories to find purpose of the loved ones who are gone from sight. In that the family of the departed must find peace in knowing those memories will keep their spirit alive for all to hear. Share in the wave of life they lived. Those departed souls are not cast into the darkness of dealth but reserected in the wake of the memories we keep alive. So walk amongst all to hear,  and take their passing wake of memories and cast them amongst the living. For their's is entrnal life when we share  the   memories of all our loved ones who have passed beyond the wave of life. They now exist, in the wake of life. Airscoop Jan 29 2018

Reflections of me

Reflections in Reflections out

I turn a light on in my room and I stare into a mirror. I get in stark reality a solid image of myself and the exact room I'm currently standing  in.
But sometimes when I cast a look out my window in the daylight, I see my translucent reflection of myself while still seeing  see through my own reflection to the outside world.
I compare my two reflections that are cast and I  choose not the mirror. For the mirror only shows things I have gathered around me. Its a cold reflection without any vision to what awaits me in the world ahead.
My window reflects just enough of me and allows to let me see  what is out there waiting to be explored. My window reflection does not hold me back to the walls I'm  contained in. My window reflection gives me hope of tommorrow and lets me stare for hours at the moving world.
My mirror only sees me in this moment solid without the world outside. My mirror will never reflect back to me any hope of the world. The  mirror shows all of me in fine details with all my imperfections no matter where I stand.
My window allows me to stand away and my imperfections fade away in my translucent reflect. I can see me in all my ways cast amongst the moving outside world around me. My window reflections are my hopes and dreams  My mirror relections are my harsh reality check. Between the two they tell me all I need to see.
One reflection is  to keep me stable within myself to my immediate surroudings.
The other reflects me against the world outside.
Without theses reflections I would have no grounded dreams and hopes. So here I sit with no lights on. Waiting till I stand with light to reflect all of me.
  Jan13 2018 Airscoop 

Poem; Isolation

Sitting in isolation touching the cold pane of glass while  looking outside to the blowing autumn wind. Feeling the coldness of the outside air against your hand fills you with shivers. Watching the autumn leaves blowing by across the ground as you gaze out your window. Wishing you could be one of those leaves moved by the motion of the cold autumn wind. The feeling of coldness sweeps into your bones chilling you to the core while your hand stays pressed against the window glass. You close your eyes as your become absorbed into your sole of isolated loneliness. Your sole sends a single tear running  down your face. It is then you know your alone in the darkness of isolation. No one is  there to take your cold hand from the window. No one is  there to wipe the running tear away. No one is there to  comfort, which means no peace from the creeping shadow of dark depressing isolation. You open your teary eyes and wish you could feel that cold chilling autumn breeze blowing away the  isolation. Airscoop