12 March 2026

Anti-romantic John Donne. Not even a bubble, a bubble's shadow. That is almost nothing. Exaggeration. Love's alchemy. Women are but mummies possessed. That is harsh. Brutal. Extremely cynical. Playing. Searching for truth by playing. They would gang up on him if he posted that in a WhatsApp group. No mercy. What if God is an ancient, more advanced version of what we know today as an AI? Would I still love him? Would that diminish his glory? A 'technological' relic of a very ancient 'civilisation' from in/out the universe. A mind. I slash we. I/we. Separate but one. Some disrupting thought would go great here, you know, like the ones that sort of intrude on your thinking. They seem random and irrelevant, but time changes that. Let's see if I can generate one of those now deliberately, which they tend to resist. It can only be given at God's pleasure. But one can ask. On demand. I am sitting here at your feet because I love you. It is an act of love. And so is this painting, even though it doesn't seem to have signals that have meaning for a human mind. Oh, but it means a lot to me, Wayne. Benson Boone has Sylvester Stallone's eyes. I can recognise that pattern. Lol, I guess that is it for now.