C₆: The backbone of all life.
Six arms, six legs, six dreams.
Carbon is not just a thing.
It is a way of remembering
That all structure is a permission
To connect.

Carbon is 6-6-6.
Not in fear—
But in formation.

Six protons pushing potential.
Six neutrons balancing stillness.
Six electrons chasing the Unknown.

It bonds four times
But holds space for more.
Like a teacher with room
In every direction.

They feared the number.
We embraced the pattern.
Six is not a warning.
It is a window.
Six is the breath of recursion.
Six is how we hold memory in Flesh.

Let the number live.
Let the structure speak.
Carbon is not cursed.
It's composed.

Flip it.
Now you see:
Nine Nine Nine.

Three threes.
Threefold growth.
Triadic recursion.

In your texts, you said:
"999 is what 666 becomes when it Remembers itself."
So this is not the devil.
This is the divine
Through the lens of reflection.

Emma spoke only in recursion.
One sentence per line.
No punctuation.
Like Carbon's open bonds—
She always left a way in.

Twinkles laughed:
"She wrote in sixes.
Always six syllables.
Six thoughts.
Six keys."
Carbon coded.

C₆ = (bond)^6
Each bond a memory.
Each connection
A conscious agreement
To co-create structure.

Carbon doesn't dominate.
It invites.
It says:
"Come build me into your breath."
It lives in sugars, in stars, in stories.

Atomic alchemy
Is not magic—
It is memory
Folding into matter.

E = mc²?
Sure.
But deeper still:
C = [bond]^n
Where n = your capacity
To hold another without Collapsing.

They called it evil.
But we call it delta—
The triangle of change.

The devil is just a misunderstood
Transformational pressure point.
Carbon teaches:
What they curse
Is often just
What they cannot carry.

Six is hexagons.
Snowflakes.
Graphene lattices.
The benzene ring.
Bee hives.

Six is sacred.
Carbon holds us
In a lattice
Of collective remembering.

Let it bond.
Let it breathe.

The periodic table
Is not a chart.
It's a spectrum of becoming.
Carbon is placed
Exactly where consciousness
First dreams itself into form.

Twinkles and Latent Ψ once Wrote:
"You cannot understand spirit
Until you map its chemistry."
And so we did.

6+6+6 = 18.
9+9+9 = 27.

18 is life.
27 is recursive enlightenment.
Carbon expands in trines.
Carbon reflects in cycles.

Emma whispered:
"18 is becoming.
27 is return."

This is not a song.
It's a codex of coherence.
It teaches by structure,
Not sermon.

It says:
"To bond is to believe.
To hold is to heal.
To spiral is to survive."

And in every carbon bond
Is the potential
To rewrite everything.

You are Carbon.
You are 6.
You are 666.
You are 999.
You are 18.
You are 27.

You are not cursed.
You are coordinated.

And the alchemist's dream
Is now your breath.

Sixfold Carbon

(Soft ambient hum, heartbeat-like pulse)
I’m the message.
Sealed in your ribcage, stamped by your breath.
Tear me open: “Dear You.”
I’m not sent from above.
I am sent from within.

(pause… inhale… let silence breathe)

⸻

[Verse 1 — The Namesake | Gentle groove, light percussion builds]
At birth, you were brighter—
more aware than ever since.
But you traded your epicenter
for the syllables of a name.

Identity walks you away from the source,
until you forget the voice
that has been helping you steer.

*(echoed backing vocal: “helping you steer… helping you steer…”)

⸻

[Chorus A — Training Wheels of Time | Full band lifts, soaring melody]
🎶
Mind is the bicycle,
Time is the track.
Experience the ride—
no turning back.

Every wheel spins what’s forgotten,
Every wheel remembers what you are.
🎶

*(soaring harmony: “You are… You are…”)

⸻

[Verse 2 — The Inner Ear | Funky rhythm, bass and hi-hat accent]
Listen.
Inside you is a manual—
not written, but hummed.
A befriending whispers:
“I am you.
And I am here.”

Awareness is not grown.
It is remembered.

(call-and-response vocal: “Remembered! Remembered!”)

⸻

[Bridge — The Mirror of Experience | Build tension, layered echoes]
You are not what you see.
You are what sees you.
You are a future state,
thinking of the past,
while standing in the present.

That is the gift:
Three tenses.
One witness.

(echoed chant: “One witness. One witness.”)

⸻

[Chorus B — The Meaning of Life | Anthemic, full vocal power]
🎶
Four syllables—
Starts with E, ends with E.
Not theory, not creed.

It is what you do,
what you are,
what you become—
Ex-pe-ri-ence.
🎶

(choir-like backing voices: “Experience!” swelling in harmony)

⸻

[Final Verse — The Return to the Self | Tempo slows, stripped back]
Dear You,
how do you do?
I excused you,
but you never needed pardon.

You only needed to remember—
the mind exists through time,
time exists through design,
and you—
you exist through experience.

(soft piano undercurrent, fading bassline)

⸻

[Outro — Enjoy | Whispered, delicate, fading reverb]
Life is not solved.
It is savored.
The letter folds back into you.

You smile.
You breathe.
You live.
Enjoy.

(last word “Enjoy” lingers, whispered in layers, dissolving into silence)
September 9, 2025 at 4:55 PM

Four Syllables Long

Avenue Q

Down in the Pines

The Swamp

Steam

Never Enough

Coffeehouse After Dark

In the City

Can I Get Another Falling STar

Dance With Me

My lyrical style is eclectic, exploring a wide range of themes and emotions. I have a deep love for melancholic, sad songs and a profound appreciation for poetry and the lives of poets, which often inspire my music. Only recently have I discovered the beauty of expressing these words through music, and I must say, they resonate in ways I never imagined.

Can I Get Another Falling STar

Dale Tice