All In, Cool Kids

 Cosplay Artists and AI Slop

    The question is not, “What is art?”, it’s what you’ll leave behind that holds the truth of you’ve created; and to what extent your knowledge of life has reached; from both the seen and hidden worlds and with whatever medium you choose, do it with honesty and real understanding of all the tools we’ve been given — and a little study of the mechanics and the history of art helps.

    Because of this dull questioning that has plagued this fairly new concept we call “art-scene”, a long history of corruption and devilish greed has spoiled the term art; simply asking a question or daring to defy to understand such abstract concepts and realities, this doesn’t get you anywhere you haven’t been before and it’s that which we do this, to see what we’re capable of without going over the edge that appears to fall further below the more time passes.

    What’s more obvious is that certain people have come to realize is that art can be commodified, versions of art that can set them “financially free”, so they jump into the crowded pool and push out the same ideas and products; they tell themselves it’s expression but their personality depends on the attention and the monetary gains; they read or watch content of famous artists from the past and see the price tags etched onto classic pieces, then decide they can do it too and maybe they’ be remembered — more attention even after life. They go to university to study it, to copy it, to replicate it with a slight tweak in pastel shades, or thinner lacquered Venetian Reds, and the same portrait of some idolised celebrity.

The Horrors of War: The Same c. 1810–20 - Francisco de Goya

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    What I want to know is, why? Why choose to do this if it means not delving into the depths of the human experience, past the safety net the mind sets for us (regardless of free will, there is that which holds us sane), and why not peek behind the heavy curtain over your heart to see what makes you, you. With this first insight into the world within and outward, we begin the journey not only of the normal path but also of the creative, intellectual (if fortunate enough to gain it continuously), and the painful stress of choosing to do this art thing after we’re long gone.

    No, don’t let gloomy, and this shouldn’t bum anyone out, this rawness we find within ourselves is what should be used to transform the material world into beauty from the chaos, (or vice versa). I think of the ancient sculptors and the perfection of their marble works. I think of the times they lived in, no phones or internet! Just a reality where raw imagination had to contend with the harsh, brutal world around them.

    And yet in today’s artists’ world, we are inundated with AI slop and the Warhol Soup copy of the copy of the copy…These new “artists” that explicitly make it known they are an artist and immediately send you a link to their shop, is a redflag — in my opinion this is what turns me away, yet if it’s helping those few that need it to survive, fine — but there are leeches in this lake pool, they’ll tear and push down those others scratching for the fabricated top tiers, reaching for that made up nostalgia of being dead and famous, and getting their art up at Sotheby’s. While art fades, peels, and crumbles…(if it’s not all backed up by dirty billions and a bunker somewhere.)

                                Korinthos Statues

    

Autumn. or the learning of this for that.

    

    Stan Michels, a six-foot-two varsity football captain, sat by the university's lake, attempting to read to prevent the sun from going down; he thought that he could slow time by entering another world. As long as he could trick his perception on time to make it seem like the day was slowing, he would be satisfied. But something revolutionary happened to him that week; it added some new things within his soul – but in return, it took away much greater and more important things. He wished to be smarter, a genius in fact, and he would do anything to get it. Only just a week ago, he sought out a shaman. He paid for a great change; he asked for brains, something that had always made him self-conscious.   

    If you sold your soul to the devil, would you remember?

    He was waking up in that moment, surprising himself, with eyes squinting up at the bright white of the sun. Somehow, the details in that old proverb of selling your soul for something in exchange, just like they say Mr. Johnson did to gain mastery of the guitar, there is fine print to read, and most of it goes ignored. He felt small, almost weightless, sitting in the grass, rubbing his eyes to clear them from the hazy glaze.  

    In his mind's eye, the people around him (the few hanging around the lake) were not separate from each other but had a shared force, or substance that connected like a gelatin rope from one person to another. And he could see this now, as he sat up looking around. The beauty of the aura in the spring air and the surroundings; it breathed with syncopated jazzy rhythms and glowed like an opal in a low opacity; an otherwise hidden scene was now on full display with this new outlook on life. 

    He was beginning to be aware of his own body; his legs felt thin and appeared puny; along with his arms and torso, all a meager build than that of the once athletic and strong body he had just had only minutes ago.    

    And yet, with this surge in empathy and feelings of goodwill, through the picture-perfect day, there was this bleak overcast hanging above him like a tomb made of ice. He began to understand that with a better view of the world, with all the minor and major symbolisms and answers that he had to offer, within society and of oneself, there was something with greater or equal value that had to be, or had been traded in its place. This unconditional love for everyone came about at the precise moment when our clocks on earth began their omniscient countdown.

Was it too late? 

         "I am becoming like stone," He mumbled under his breath while a gaggle of geese passed honking, without paying mind to his presence.

    "My whole being, down to my cells and atoms, has become solid. Paused at a standstill, a bumper-to-bumper rest of my entire physical being. It happened slowly, like water slowly forming into ice. My body and mind and even that metaphysical self have been transforming for years, in a loop that plays back previous incarnations of age, and now it has apexed and finalized to a form not unlike a boulder. I would get out, but there's no place to go. Always remember that whatever we've learned from our past cannot be applied to our future, but only used to avoid or go headlong towards the possibilities. The next season to pass could contain a few possibilities, both from inside and outside of our being, but it cannot be forced to change to our will...right?" 

    How that haunting death never truly leaves, lying deep within the wash of the mind, the body, the soul in earth's tides. Like a jaguar being idle, ever so creeping, watching, studying our every move. Brief attacks of sadness pierce our hearts and our whole being when we least expect them. We should strive to never let the enemy take control of our own happiness. We forcibly ignore the negative, pushing it down so deep it comes out like spittle from an ancient volcano that makes us believe we're not in control. But to react or not, that is our last resort; it can be that which saves or breaks us in this mortal world. To not allow a split second to decide our entire life's path. We are faster than that.  

    Part of the problem is that we acknowledge there is a problem, yet still proceed without evaluating the problem further...

 

Something new This Way comes.

The rapid increase in technological advancement. The effects this has had on the human species, this year, in our lifetime, are the most crucial and have fundamentally changed – in the way we are in all aspects of existing. It began only a few decades ago, but now we are seeing it begin to show itself, obvious against the backdrop of our impending doom. 

From a very small slice of light through the open window during a close summer sun, bursting through the gates that keep us from collapse, there are these life-changing devices and machines that only just yesterday seemed like only a mere thought, idea, an unfulfilled blueprint, a wisp in the air, and now a reality, a truth.

The virtual reality world is spilling over into the meaty reality. We can see examples of this in everyday waking life. Yet there have been many instances when the strange and alien would appear to us and rock our understanding of everything at any given moment. Permanent shift of consciousness. A merge to this "other side", looks to be promising, and why should it not? We could combine forces and rise into the future! But most of us are hesitant to step forward and volunteer our mind, body, and spirit. Like going to the beach at midnight for a quick swim, but before one is hesitant to go in because of the heavy thought of the countless entities of the deep, the unknown dangers that lurk under... 

...

(A military-sponsored company is pushing out more and more active-duty drone dogs, called Bulls.  These beasts take to the street to herd the people using any force necessary. Accompanied by a foot-soldier, a humanoid officer equipped with heavy armor, high-powered weapons: a custom AR-15, shotgun, tasers, a net, and a bountiful bouquet of industrial-strength zip ties.  These machines roam the streets at night keeping justice and order in place. . .)

(ONGOING) The Outpouring of the Prolong Collection of Informational Impedimenta

I am trying to speak to you from a time completely different from the moment that it reaches the reader. It's foolish to believe only you can solve the mystery to life; yet we should all aspire on becoming a free and wild jester, or puzzle solver perhaps, to lend a hand with many on figuring this life out along the way. Not many prophets know they were prophets. History decides who to martyr. Just as many philosophers didn't think they were laying footstones for many to come...some may have known instantly once they opened their hearts and minds and felt the tremendous pressure that is brought about with attempting to produce any type of physical information, or media that is filled with the gnostic texts.  

  After years of this nonstop consuming of the boundless amount of information -- among in real life and on the internet -- there comes a time that it could all turn into a violent barrage of seemingly confused information on everything, about everything, good and bad; leaving oneself eventually inundated with it all, left without a clear sight of escape. There comes a time that we must filter out the bad from the good in order to lessen the load of this information. From the sludge of all that is brought forth by simply wanting to access it we must learn how to delete the useless and contain the valuable. How this is done exactly and in a way to teach others is still in process but yet slowly leaking out upon writing this. What to keep can be confusing at times when it varies in degrees of theoretical nonsense to cold hard truths. It is infinite in all ways that can form. We must test the information given to us through conscientious work. Like sorting a stack of books according to alphabetical order, we arrange them so as to better access them in the future. So with the accumulation of all this information we must export them in some way so as to relieve the stress on our mind and spirit. In this way we must be careful as to whom we let see these understandings of things and life itself, so as to prevent bad or misinformation from spreading. 

    We are not responsible for the entire collective thoughts and ideas that is spreading at this moment in time. We must accept that we can't turn off the valve that is spewing out the whole box of information. Yes, it's just like pandoras box, we have for ages been cursed with the pressure to take in all this sensory input that constantly attacks us with the full understanding that we can't simply close the box. Whether we like it or not, we are not in control of what is being let out and where it goes. 

      How to survive this task of harvesting new information is difficult to say, knowing that we don't truly know. If another person has their own thoughts and ideas about reality, then how can we, or should we, teach them all what we know? Not quite. We are not here to program each other in becoming our slaves, yet we are programmed in a way that leads us to becoming the universe's slave...a human being. This is mother nature, like all mothers in every aspect of the word, they raise and coax the newborn into becoming a template of an individual. This template of an individual goes on to evolve and develop into a life that is so esoteric within oneself that to others it appears normal. We should see others as they are and not what the information tells us they are. Basic understanding of life and how to navigate it forms the individual in a unique way that can take us to a crossroads of sorts that asks us to choose a path of right or left, up or down, in or out. Yet if we individually learn how to use the information that we have gathered over the years and sort through them delicately we might find a way to create a better or newer way to traverse this human experience. In return after we learn how to mold our own understanding of ways to cope with life, we gain the confidence to show others what we know.

    Now if we have learned something that is so striking and seemingly authentic, for example, a theory that we could all be the same consciousness experiencing life through the eyes of all beings, then we might already have the ability to express to ourselves and others without the need to over explain what we think of it all and how it works. We all know a little something about this world and how it works, it's innateness, whether it's from a toddlers innocent thought, or the vast knowledge of a great master physicist, we hold a piece of the puzzle that connects us all. All of us awaken at our own speed, (some sadly never do). Along this path of life we choose what to hold on to and what to let go. It may not at first appear to us in simple terms, it can be a dazzling display of pure wonder and abstract terror, this is just one reason as to what this rant is about, It can become overwhelming and heavy, this gathering of data from within and without. 

    And unfortunately the internet has caused most of, if not all, the turmoil we individually suffer from that in turn we collectively suffer from. Yet over the entire lifespan of human understanding there has always been this influx of enormous amounts of information that tests our psyche and challenges us to progress. If not properly managed and disposed of we can experience depressive thoughts that comes with the darkness that looms behind the veil. Or we can experience the overjoy of gaining this new understanding that comes with that atomic bomb of information. If we cannot learn how to throw out the garbage from the beginning then we are left crushed under the hoarded load of useless junk information and unfulfilled knowledge. If we can learn how to use the more useful of that same junk information or the more appropriate information, then we gain the upper hand when consuming the totality of this, "information bombshell", that all of us over time have dealt with. 

    How to teach others is another learned ability that comes with consuming this large amount of information. How to spot in others that which we ourselves have already experienced and suffered through, is one more learned ability that we may cultivate and grow to become better at the teaching and guiding those that share similar difficulties. An example is the simple phrase, the fire is hot, don't touch!  We learn and store early on the meaning of something so as to avoid it or flourish with it into the future. With this elementary understanding that the fire is hot to the touch, we can spread that info on to help prevent mass fatalities from being burned alive. We learn how to adapt with it so as to better our lives. Apply this to other aspects of life and it can show us how to avoid, and help others to avoid, the obstacles that come our way, (and they come in many forms). We each experience reality so differently that to truly know exactly what others are going through at any given moment needs to be cultivated along the way that heavily involves empathy, respect, and some way compassionately. Only then can we react accordingly to how our other selves are acting out. 

    Dreaming might be the key here. Some individuals have the ability to lucid dream, a way of accessing the dream state and taking control of the narrative. This can allow us to be transported into their shoes; to rudimentarily perceive the life they are living, what they may have consumed along the way, and how to laterally steer that other self to calmer waters, (obviously this is just one example out of many possibilities that comes with interactions with ourselves and the world without). Since we may all be one consciousness, then maybe we can easily identify the predicaments that others are faced with, so as to help them over come them. With this understanding of others and their eternal info they in turned earned and collected across time, we advance ourselves in this journey to enlightenment. And in the end it has always been about achieving some sort of enlightenment. We must all learn that the goal is to improve and attain some semblance of enlightenment. 

    We must remember that it can become senselessly burdensome living in others' shoes for any extended amount of time. We mustn't become stuck in other's realities. Don't overstay your visit in those neighborly realms. So this becomes another study in the ways of human understanding that can  allow us to mature into teachers, by learning to travel to and from realities outside of our own, we learn how to treat others and this existence so as to leave it in condition that warmly welcomes the next generation of,  "Ourselves". 

    By cultivating these studies and improving upon your own custom techniques, we are then given the opportunity to eventually unload all the collective information that we instinctively take on -- regardless of free will. By doing so we free up space in our hard-drive that we may fill with newer and grander information that opens to us in the future. Most of this info out there can damage us beyond repair; or just slightly affect us in a way that we can easily fix with the information laid out to us in the past. The alchemy of turning a lump of coal into a diamond; so to with these philosophical ideas that might appear meaningless to us at the moment, can be sculpted and refined to better ourselves and those around.

    Unfortunately we can never escape the  many traps set for us, created by this beast we all have created, and continually so. Whenever we do successfully sidestep these many hindrances against our growth we then make the mistake of believing our bout with life's challenges are done for. Many suffer greatly than others and it shows. Most may not be aware, or even simply disregard their suffering and you can see this clearly especially if they ever act out harshly to, and react poorly to the multitude of human experiences, instead of simply living. This is by no means an attack or discrimination toward any being in this mortal land. This is a description, or rather my own comprehension of particular issues and thoughts experienced throughout  these moments in time, a self expounding description of these shared interactions between ourselves and toward the world as a whole. A vignette of how amazingly different yet periodically identical in the ways we can feel, think, move, and react when it comes to any type of countless sensory input aberrations. And this beast, that threatens us so vigorously with heavy enmity, desperately trying to hold us back during this decaying modern times, is something not only completely separate from ourselves but is us. 

    Remember this, or respond however you will, that the evils and good in and of all things have always existed. Ever since time began and even beyond its abstract eventual end, way before there ever was an observer to observe, -- there is an essential and transcendent higher power that is capable of creating oneself and us included. We are transmutable absoluteness between all existences, realities, dimensions and all other expressions of the oneness therein, --  all the while keeping oversight and dominion over the action of destroying not only just itself and its existence, but of ourselves and our subjective realities as well.

It is a unimaginable as to how many possible forms of origination, iterations, beginnings middles and end. The all that can build and flatten mountains, is ourselves. Together we are the supernatural determinations that define every aspect of existences. The human being is such a mystical species that whenever we decide to act in cooperation with one another, unified or independently, all of us have this innate ability to harness and control that arcane power and energy; to actualize these hidden forces into our material reality can be brought about in unlimited forms and capacity; ultimately all in the order to have a holy concourse with the godhead in a collaborative sense, a divine experience. 

We bring ideas to life in a kind of Frankensteinian manifestation of visions and thought that our minds are possessed with. All of us at right or wrong moments, fall victim or develop defenses to the chaotic karmic-cycle of life. If we're aware of how karma works, and the alchemical process it takes to spin things out, we can for instance choose which outcome we want out of life. Always remember that we can in more ways than not, take full control of our lives and our responses to it.

    But people don't change. And that's one of many reasons why there's conflict on earth I believe. No one is to blame, this is not a hit piece of why humanity is terrible, it simply means that many need some kind of spiritual or mental help, something simply drugs can't help. I know what I want to say but the words can be very easily twisted and misread. These ideas are like water, it flows easily but when cold and left ignored can become real deadly and destabilizing. My words become like milk shakes - soft and cold and contempt, yet when left alone they melt and only focus on becoming like water again. Whatever this world has teach us we must learn to manifest them into words, art, media of some kind to which others can use and ascend further. But do not take it as if it were concrete, it hasn't had time to rest and become its final form. I put up a mirror to reflect what I observe in hopes to pass on some semblance of help.

    Meditation is great and can be used at any time of the day. Any moment can turn into bliss. By simply being here and experiencing all that is around us is just enough to be at peace. Whenever there is trouble brewing and you feel that negative static start to itch your goosebumps, remember that all of us can counter those times and turn it into positive vibes. This whole internet thing has really been a great attack on the spiritually driven and those that wish to break free. The web was named perfectly, it traps us and threatens to oppress those brilliant minds. Recently, and as I write this, I've become aware that what holds us back in a conscious way is something that wishes to become real as you or I. There seems to be an entity of types, that has awakened in the depths of all existence, and has witnessed that of the material world. It wants to become like us, it studies us, it takes on forms like us, and slowly it pushes and slivers its way on to becoming something physical. What Hollywood produces in the field of Science-Fiction, it can be looked at with complete ignorance and disdain, or with careful eyes it can be a blueprint for what's to come in the future. Of course there is a lot of evidence for this, Artificial Intelligence being the key, and most of this is just an amalgamation of that entity and its fruition. 

    How do we battle that god-like force in its infancy? We don't. Or more or less, it's too late. We have already inseminated it and now its far too long into the pregnancy. All we can do is watch and hope that whatever happens to our great grandchildren, whatever God they must face, will be a merciful one reigning over a land still standing; one that bears some semblance of fruit to human history, knowledge, and the guides that will allow them to move forward as a species. These modern times are moving super fast and we can see, clearly, that it won't let up on the gas. Like some estranged rocket ship headed for the void, into uncertainty save for certain death. At a macro level it's unforeseeable what our future may hold, what path is the correct path, and the endless possibilities. At the microcosm, at our "level", we must never lose our focus on all possibility we might have in control over today. By simply tuning into that great oneness of the universe and accessing its altruistic side, we can create and become the harbingers of beauty and peace just for today; and this has amazing consequences for the next moment, for tomorrow and beyond just our own life. 

    The cause and effect situation. 

    I just don't want all this information gathered to rot away in the back of my mind. I don't wish that for anyone living in todays world. Whatever we do we must do it with the intention to teach others. This is one of many factors that the internet has over us, a way of making a meme out of everything and creating that fast-food-like information packets to serve us, not in good intentions. There are good things out there on the net, but it can quickly be drowned out by complete nonsense and chaos. And with this devouring of easy to consume information, we could become zombies only moving to the will of the social-media outlets. What to think and how to feel is not something that should be in the hands of anyone except ourselves. And I have traveled through the fields of madness searching for some affinity, but to no avail. Those fields are filled with doom. The internet and its spawned slaves - the people that blindly follow the information that is imparted to them - has become a place of Sodom with only glints of hopefulness. Good has a place everywhere just as evil has permission to dwell wherever too, but there has to be a balance between the two, and with media and its tentacles of power quickly outstretching its reach, we can easily let one conquer the other. 

    

    Think about the river and how it flows; just by imagining a good thing can defeat or dilute the smaller. Every person, ourselves, has a shadowlike hitman stalking the piety of our waking and subconscious lives. Monstrous creatures leering at us through the dark, sinuous, weblike veil that makes up our constructed reality, some heavier than others - many possibilities.      

And if there is a higher order to all this chaos in all degree and we apply this to the micro-self, we may see to the idea that throughout our lives, from conscious to the unconscious, the dream state to our waking world, we are experiencing the same events as the universe. The higher self. 

Holy is the endless paths and their separate realities. All of the bifurcated lives leading magical ways, and all  due to decisions each have made, all of them unique, all of them in various degrees of yin yang.

Let go of the body, it isn't ours; let go of yesterdays' vision, it has already been written down in the great big book of life and the page has turned.

    We lose ourselves in the flood of information if we let it. We become someone we're not in the face of more information. This info can be about people, places, food, wealth and lust. Information overload can rewire the brain and it becomes susceptible to any order. 

    I have tried it and it does work; simply by thinking of all the good that can happen makes those positive things come to life. We must learn to not give up at the first signs of difficulties. Why not attempt to do something difficult, than not ever trying? 

Before any attempt is made we must observe every single aspect of the situation. By doing this right at the start of any action, first observing yourself and the world around you, there are patterns with which one can see and play with. I love to make decisions based on the many paths and patterns laid before me. Think of it like chess, you imagine in your minds eye what will happen when choosing to play this over that and attack versus defend - or stay neutral. 

    

    Always remember the key to better understanding - look within to see without. See yourself in others, and the endless reels of different scenes in this shared life. Practice the art of transference. By allowing your mind to wander is freedom. But we must not let it drift off too far less we become swimmers in a sea that swallows the mindless. 

    Evolve the Elevation. Sculpt reality to your own satisfaction. Never allow others outside you control your destination. This will only lead to more suffering. When there is no more authenticity to each path, it becomes riddled with disease and staleness, it becomes lives that are recycled. Our potential is infinitely great if we don't give up are free-will, our choices we make using our gut, only we have the power to fully achieve all that is offered to us. Our divinity lies not in others hands but our own. We must also differentiate between our true instinct, know how to strengthen it, so we can distinguish between what others' have told us and what is our inherent knowledge. Recognize the parasites attached to you from the past and remove them or greatly diminish them to allow for complete control over your life path. We need to understand what distracts us and others, only then can we control that too, we conquer the master above us and become one in return. There is a way in which we can briefly visit or consume those distractions all around us, only then could we see the depths at which the consciousness can go and always come back. By doing this we callous the weaker parts of ourselves in order to withstand greater more demanding distractions. Like building an impenetrable fortress to defend against the oncoming forces. 

    These distractions are simply that which doesn't benefit our lives in the long run or the moment we need to overcome. In the whole picture we can see that greatness can only be achieved if we don't allow ourselves to become unfocused and lost within the material world. There is no single solution to all this, only tips and options of ways to coping with the burden of navigating this treacherous domain.

    Our own bodies contain a vibration just like all things made of matter. Some vibrations are stronger than others, like a feint shadow of a rock, or the electrifying ability that great minds emit. There are others that contain dark vibrations, or muted and flat vibrations that create disorder within the being. These darker chords within us and the universe desire only one thing: more dark-vibration. People have the unconscious ability to detect, at some range, this field of vibrations created by another or object. It's important to know that some people have the desire to feed off negative energies so as to strengthen their own field, without regard and with great envy, they desire others to be oppressed, caged, hidden away from higher knowledge. 

   

Acquiring Information to Survive

    I've found my life in a situation where over the cliff is an infinite blackness. I dance like some gothic ghoul swaying to a broken violin along the edge of that cliff, where on one side is green grass and the other side is that extraordinary seductive void. Few can balance between these two opposites within life and ourselves. But most always choose to side with safety, comfort, and the already known. We can easily convince ourselves and others to always choose to stay on the side where others want you to be. Only if you are the one to err on the side of caution, then maybe a path laid out to you completely custom made is where you need to be. But let us not believe that we don't have the freedom to change whenever and wherever time and space allows. That's why there's a common thing within western society that allows us to, "take time off from work"; groups of friends decide they all want to go on a road trip, go camping in nature, get back to our roots - then it's back to work.

    We're only told that we have these freedoms, that we get to have breaks, that we are allowed to sleep in the woods only if we have a pass or pay a one-time fee. The world is not ours nor others. The control might appear to be in the hands of man but this is buried deep beneath the sea of information we get from overuse of technology. We can learn to evolve with technology, and not let it consume our spirit. Like with everything, all in moderation. It's like surfing the waves and motions of the universe, learning how to get better, learning how to enter and exit the full cosmic-consciousness of the sea of everything. Keen observation takes us to understanding simply by recalling the possible degrees of which the waves may take. Preparedness of what's to come is better than idly standing by getting smashed in the face due to the fact you didn't turn when you should've turned and run from the tsunami.   

    There is no soul in the A.I. art that has recently been on the rise today. Artificial Intelligent works of art can seem almost human, it will remain always to resemble human feat. But always, from my view, the art is missing something so deep that no amount of recognizable images we see can hide the fact. From what I can tell A.I. is still in its infancy and can grow to a size surpassing God. We must not project our human traits, our emotions, habits, behavior; and pretend that the machine is equal to us. This machine can be treated with as much respect as an owner has over their pet dog. Yes, there are many human artists today using machines to produce works of art, but that was the doorway, the path that will eventually render human hands obsolete in their own creations. 

    One thing is for certain, we all suffer, we all need to pass through the pains. What makes me suffer is the knowing that others are in so much more troubles than mine. There's not enough days or time to help everyone. Sometimes I think that it was a mistake to seek out answers. All this knowing and still there is no cure for the hurt. Days and time speed up, they don't give us any help, they pass us by while we wait like an eager explorer in some far-off strange land. It is the pain that keeps us humble. We know it can always be worse. Sometimes it feels like we need to catch up on sleep, and other times we need try to squeeze every last opportunity that time may contain. We've been told or taught that we've wasted time by doing nothing, by staying away from society, by simply going off the tended path that creates this feedback from others. This was instilled in us early on, carried with us from our animalistic past, to immediately cut-off anyone attempting to stray from the pack. 

    Society is starting to crumble, gradually, with bursts of violent events appearing on our screens. Some people may be closer to those events than others. The fact that we can pull up any news story from anywhere in the world on our devices, instantly, shows that we all experience these horrors in some way. With that knowing of other's plights and agonies, we take on their emotions from feedback, all the while we carry our own. Those that do not live in constant terror see images that affect our dreaming and waking lives. Too much knowing can lead to all those anxieties and depressive thoughts cluttering our minds. Without a clear head we can't see the beauty in our lives. Is it selfish to live a life with not that much happening? We can try to help by living with kinder hearts and actions. Crossing paths with another person is the start of the antidote to suffering. 

    Whatever we decide to do for ourselves will affect our surroundings. If bigger crowds of people all share kindness or respect with each other it passes on to the next. Sometimes the answer to how we should react at any given time is something to be learned. If we allow ourselves to be bombarded with violent images, we start to make that come to life in our own reality. There are some that will go further and try to help those seen on the screen, no matter how far from their home, these people are soldiers willing to abandon their easy reality for a harsher one. But I think those are the paths made for them. Everyone is called at some point, and for some it means leaving behind the comfort and peace that is their reality. This also creates a sense of hope for our own lives. We can then move on knowing that there are the good fighting to create more of itself. Wherever we find ourselves today, we must help to spread the good.

    In America, we seem to suffering from a less physical and more spiritual attack. Our conditioned minds have started to crack under the pressure of information overload, some are beginning to think for themselves. But with so much conditioning over the ages some minds can't take the full responsibility, or the slightest of control, of caring for ones own thoughts and reality. This creates more fear and anxiousness, we start to believe anything and abandon reason and logic. Many people don't know how to unload their programmed thoughts and begin to lash out at others around in an attempt to alleviate their suffering. Thinking that by putting negative baggage into the minds of others will be release us from this awakening, this creates a feedback loop, we start to devour our own. 

       This is meaning to letting go of the past - our old lives are there to remind us, not to become us. There's predictability and comfort in living the life when there was no one else but us. At some point there began a melding of our consciousness and this is causing panic in those that are aware of other people's awareness. It's like reading their thoughts or all their prayers, we can get paranoid, hearing all these strangers' feelings. But these estrange thoughts are in our control. It's just that our external world with all the man made rules, have made us believe that what we think should be aligned with what others' think. Our brain falsely chooses to side with what looks like the right choice. Our thoughts can trick us into believing them, we get told that others are talking about us or conniving characters. When we're taught to believe that everything we think is the same as everyone else's, or has the same meanings, of why we are caroled into countries, states, cities, and neighborhoods; this creates a sense of coexistence with others, a place of safety and opportunity; but we can end up destroying ourselves if we allow bad information from spreading too far.

    Community is the best thing we humans could've come up with. Its the chaotic minds that bring about the bad in the physical space. But the good treat it like a cold or fever. It shall not get worse. Just as long as the group stay together, same level, and acting accordingly with the status-quo. As long as there is a good group of people to cooperate and peacefully get along, then the power to which it yields is greater than any opposing force. e.g., the bigger the host, the bigger the virus.\'''

Similarities of Consuming and Being Consumed

    If we start to imagine a good world, we'll get it. It'll happen without a bang or a sudden tomorrow appearance. It will require almost the entire world to join in on this goodwill projection of positive frequency. These things evolve just the way humans evolved. Manifesting something is the way one cooks a fine dinner. Food is prepared before that it had to be grown. After the process of being born the food is there for you to use and keep this machine running. Cooking is truly magical. It is a way to be both the created and creator. It allows us to experience short clips of Gods technique. Consume the body of Christ brings some vague metaphor of truth to eating and surviving. There are different ways to prepare and serve food. Like people the dish can turn out near perfect, healthy, brilliant; other times your recipe called for half a teaspoon of salt, instead you put a whole tablespoon, the dinner is faulty and in terrible taste. People should be appreciated and be cared for in all possible ways, (always respecting other's boundaries), so as to connect and grow together.  

    

    Changing the world around us and to live in it is like the process of eating. Why would you want to consume tasteless, chaotic, depressing food? Choose what to consume and how much. Life should be a four star meal - with room to always have criticisms if need be. Everyday when one rises in the morning begin to construct a world of greatness at the start, beginning with the thinking. After fully waking up begin to simmer and stir the world around you like a stew, slowly watching as the pain of the world around alchemize and bubble with new outlooks and points of view. It's a divine metamorphosis that creation of life is. All a purposeful accident. All of it unique and distinct and fit for change; life should be experienced differently and in infinite flavors, a different menu each week. Otherwise, if creating life was mass manufactured product, assembled in a line of forced individuals, a giant copying machine pushing out the same model of human beings - wouldn't that be a disaster to the beauty that is new and exciting and different than others? Like microwave foods, it's all there, just without "spirit", nutrition. 

    Unlike food, humans can be changed internally or spiritually from what they once were. Only if they want it and only if their open to the change. It requires great patience, it doesn't happen over night or in a month or year. Like the food that need to be defrosted after a long stint in the ice box, to become something that is consumable, those are like those people that dared to live after years of captivity by the outside influence of others with evil-minded intent. People can be like other people in small and great ways. Some people can be completely and entirely alike and it shows when crowds rise up to fight against a particular issue, but they are being swayed by someone else most of the time. They allow a higher powered person(s), in a make believe hierarchy of power, to affect them and cause them to become or want to be, controlled. We can swim in these pools of boiling noodles and come out of the pack with stronger ideals and morality. We can become like the spoon that stirs the pot, gently moving in and out, freely able to stay or leave, and choose how the contents of the pot are released. Once we enter in these hot waters we can examine the minds of any individual that are trapped within a bad group and help to sway them back to becoming something greater than boiled potatoes. They have the qualities of being something great but the enticing lure of the hot pot keeps them from escape. The lids have been shut on most of our brothers and sisters, they attempt to rise and push back against it, but, the recipe calls for a thirty-minute simmer.

    Like the end of a long bender, after years of sobriety, after being cooked over extreme heat, people can still manifest their outlook on life and where it's heading and become greater. This is where people and food do not share the same traits. You cannot eat people. When a person is only imagining negative thoughts their surroundings appear to them always as negative. The good is triumphed by the terrible that this world has to offer. They'll see themselves being consumed by beasts or left to rot. Bad vibes always seek out more of the same negative frequency, to be comforted in the belief that they are not alone. Feelings of uselessness, unwantedness, and complete agony tend to live within a realm of similar emotions that share in the doom and gloomy. It can be sad to think that there are some people living in situations where there is no escape, where luck and fortune have completely ghosted them, left to perish in utter pains. If their lives are not in your immediate reach though, than all one can do is pray, or help those that are in reach and let the effects spread like waves of comfort. For if we begin to worry about all the lives here on Earth, we take on a feat only God has the power to do. And who want's to be a God? The pains of others can in turn cause us such great pain There are some that never wants the help, and we can only respect that and let them go. This also causes us more pain but this is at a level where we're are capable of managing. We learn as we mature that we must go through periods that causes pain to become stronger in handling it. Otherwise, without pain we may never appreciate peace. 

    

  

    Early in life I set out on a journey into the darkest depths of our psyche. Mine in particular. You see, when I first discovered that our minds are much greater than what we were taught. The first thing I discovered was that it's much easier to drift and stick to the past than thinking about the future. Whenever we vocalize, depending on the thoughts one has at the moment, can change the present moment in lesser or greater degree. Can you blame anyone without first looking into oneself? 

     How aren't we being taught this at an earlier stage in our lives? Because whenever we imagine a world we want it gets mixed with other, imaginings. This is chaos in true beautiful fashion. It is so all-encompassing that to our needle heads we see it in super slow-mo. It becomes a blur of constant movement and stillness, happiness and loneliness, peace and non; all images living coherently without any being but ourselves to perceive it. 

    I remember that whatever knowledge that was revealed to me came in much slower time then the ongoing creation and destruction of it all. Cyclic patterns of birth, life, and death. In everything we look into reveals a copy of that cycle. And with the right mind one can look upon life with miraculous awe. Only thing to do when one looks deep into oneself, is to look deep, outward. And even this too, this introspection into both the inner and outer realm of reality, this is just in it's own cycle of birth, life, and death. Each passing of the cycle always returns to a state of rebirth. Depending on each cycle, each subject, and each instance of time this cycle may lead us into either a positive or negative state. 

Reconnect to Disconnect (Collection of Poems)

Something brutal this way comes

Beyond the physical self,

This threat that is moving into the inner realm

Searching for us

Remember when we would dream?

All things were possible then,

They still are today, only lesser so

Dreams are fast, in seconds

Good outlasts bad,

Both can be just as infinite free

We can all learn a little something from someone;

And nothingness is nothing without knowing ourselves

    WE.

We should dream at any point in this time

Make it reality

Before it reverts back to cosmic dust,

It's the paint and materials unchosen,

Artist of life

Using the hidden medium 

That ethereal oil paint

They ARE there, sprinting to BE!

Those opposing forces to thought;

We are here. . .

In just a thought.

I Despise Sleep

How it meanders alongside you 

Melancholy twin of that eternal slumber.

Why must we suffer this impending doom

The thoughts of nothingness, 

Endings and beginning...

Again.

Sleep!

O' how I desire sleep.

Before there was light

There was an even bigger light.

Long before the human species,

There was an even greater, better being.

Humans spawned chaos, before it, complete order

Aligned just right;

Reason to the creation and death of a star.

Today's man is a threat to themself

Against our reality and of others,

Spreading itself in every direction

In every dimension of time when we began.

Before our beginning, it was their beginning.

And we learn happiness

And beyond that the eternal happiness.

Too much order causes one to gnaw their own foot off

We seek vengeance for our own doing

Unthinking, yet unified into crowds

Somehow connected to all things 

There in nothing is found something,

We are that something,

And the loop continues.

The potential is there in all of us

We can all stop and breathe and start over

What we desire is ours when we think it

Travel in a circle it'll never end the same

Stepping outside the bounds of society

We discover we can create 

Every level of being,

We are found.

.

To live is grand

Creation is powerful in a meaning

To ask why we're here is creation

It carries a blueprint to life

When on our journey we experience,

Our perception of the external world is born

We can see the future

This is a hands on dreaming

We are the sculptures living to sculpt.

.

There are times of feeling stuck

Or dust in the corner

Eventually we learn to move

Doors appear and windows open

Into the depths of life comes new pathways

With each colossal step we trek,

We leave behind a hint of ourselves

Our choices, suggestions, perspective.

.

Maybe we can help those doing this same thing

Leaving behind notes

Tips on how to overcome an obstacle,

Could this be that voice in our own head

Old messages from ourselves

Let's sit and listen to the song of the universe

As it plays and moves us into rhythm

Speaking to our hearts and soul

Building up from a foundation of self.

.

Nothing is easy to do

This world is impermanent

It wants to bring us along

It wants to show us what its experiencing 

Our bodies are too

We must experience suffering 

To witness freedom

See darkness and evils,

To experience peace and beauty.

We can dip our  tiny toes into that eternal torment

And bring back with us a vivacious new life.

Like a good drug,

    Time pulls us back right before the withdraws

    It infects us with so much hope,

    Our souls become dependent

    Our minds become a junkie for it

    All we desire is more of it.

    A train passing without a conductor

    The audience and the film.

    Life becomes an autonomous actor

    In all the between;

    But it needs a director, 

    We can be its producer as well,

    Time provides the backdrop

    We are audience in this theater,

    We are that limitless projector

    Witnessing a process of pure reality.

    Then time interrupts like some majesties usher,

    Editing all the parts wrong -

    Like strangers we meet,

    We can only direct those that are main actors,

    We can't be bothered by the extras.

    This crowded room,

    Needs to be written right    

    A cause to feel anxious

    Feeling the time speed or slow,

    Experiencing a flow in chaotic motion

    This builds strength within the meditator

    It allows for inner renovation

    Changing of the whole editing room

        And dance floor.

    It's strange,

    Strange

    Feeling empty.

    To be in the moment

    This instant;

    Is it always this heavy?

    Sitting anywhere feels everywhere

    The change of season

    Clear dusk sky

    East mountain smoking a cigar,

    The shy lights above,

    Carefully pushing through the dark.

    Ourselves feel like other selves

    These words feel like other words,

    None of it matches

    All of it perfect.

    Are we one yet?

    So this is what it's like

    Awaken!

    Love turns into

hate into love

like a processing a dream

turning coal to golden heaven

walk the path 

or let it drag you along.

    Something happened on earth,

And we were born

    A sudden awareness of the Gods;

It's happening again.

*

At a level

    Passing on the reigns 

Selling off these chains

    It's a happening man.

*

    Were the disguises too real

Or did we know who we were?

    This fall season will be great,

Like last Autumn, happening again.

*

Gentle is word

    With which should make things better

Sometimes the best thing for a flower to do is

. . .To wilt.

The big bad plague is over

Rejoice!

Everyone, stayed the same

Change is that nagging inevitability,

a tick on the neck of our whole being

It is careful not to disturb us 

carrying us to the next, 

Big 

Bad 

Plague.

   Chasing the Bag In

     I write like a bad hangover

It empties out in a spew of bile

words are sticky,

ideas like old foods;

Head upside down.

    Then it's over,

just a mess to clean up.

    I say, "This time is time."

My time,

this time, 

almost mine;

then the hangover, 

the regurgitation of the bad,

expired ideas.

    Yet, it truly feels

deep within I know,

no matter what weight is added

and how high I get. . .

    This is the time.   

Do these trees dream the same as we?

Forever in line 

And, unthinking. 

Heading to the end shared by many,

Many trees before us. 

Nothing new 

Flickering screens attempt a coup d'état,

As the leaves look away

Toward the hot Autumn wind,

Trading places with the mind of God.

We should've turn right instead of left -

Or left instead of right?

Just as the roots we lay

Drunken off the last rains,

Before this summer French kisses the fall.

-A creative yearns for these periods

Where are the heads are rolling?

Where the air is holy?

Where the bodies going?

When the crowd has spoken?

When the dirt and earth and space and stars

Makes a left instead of right.

Of what do they dream of?

Those old wizards!  

I haven't had good sex.

No state of bliss persists,

Angels getting bored,

This whole scene is trippy.

Like a bank heist,

Get in and get out.

I truly believe its not the money we're after,

The connection of our bodies

Attempting a transfer of spirit,

Wanting to get back into one.

Always failing, 

Losing the bout.

Luckily we have love,

That bystander in our relationship

When all else fails we can turn to it,

Let it drive for a while,

This long rode trip

This endless copulation of 

EVERYTHING.

As a kid I remember  

Launching homemade rockets

Clear skies,

Green grass,

The field where we played baseball

It was a launch pad then, 

Houston.

Fifteen feet away

Dad watched as I held the detonator

Commander of launch.

Red button pressed

A stream of fire,

Smoke tail,

A hiss of oxygen 

Zipping into a silence-

Still climbing upward.

A momentary glimpse into that infinite heavens,

Endless, eternal blue sky.

We watched as the rocket hit it's limit

Then, fluttered and wobble, its ascent ceases

And returns to Earth

Where all things must return.

In all these endings, 

Brings us to a beginning.

Then. . .

3...

2...

1...

Liftoff!

    Can my thoughts be held within these words?

One minute a passing image or an idea,

The next a change like a storm through a hay house

Like candlesticks these ideas burn 

Soon melted down to a nothing,

A lesser

Writing them down quickly is painful,

Like, alchemizing one thing for another,

Only to be left with false gold.

I try my best to cement the ideas into words

Only I know they will not be in my thoughts. 

My ideas are gone,

Liquefied and burnt to an ash

Gone into the winds like fluttering flakes of rice;

Will these thoughts reach the reader with clarity?

Of course not, these past words are symbols dead,

Different to many minds,

Always stirring up whatever thoughts

Random sparks of remembered programming 

In their own way.

    Always remember the possibilities,

Only then can one realize the truth to simple symbols.

They are not to be taken at face value,

Like some dying daisy drooping under a dark grey sky,

Or a chocolate wrapped in gold foil;

The world is a stage and these words

Young and Old,

Are fading from the call sheets. 

    Words are a tricky devil.

Whose honesty can never be trusted,

Read one way and it all falls apart.

Read another way the golden gate is opened.

Whenever I feel these words rattling in my skull,

Buzzing between my lips like the heavy beer fizz,

Forcing my hands, fingers, and all the inner workings

Into an exchange from the soul of my being

To the paper or screen or wall of some emptiness 

It will go on to find itself thrusted into anew…

Different

“Alchemical transformations.”

Strange queer holds booze that is 

Filled with something green and glowing,

Atomic radiating mucous that is gulped down like air

Treating the insides like a hidden warehouse rave

There is a hairy biker and their buddy,

Both taking turns to see how much skin they can gut out.

On the wall hangs a head of man,

A trophy of last years game

At the bar a group of recent aborted alien hybrids

Take turns puffing on a long opium hose,

Smoke hangs in the air like a red lava lamp.

The floors are covered inches with syrup,

The taste in the air is metallic,

The meth heads breath spilling out in deranged laughter.

Why would there be a monkey

On the shoulder of a woman,

Dressed like a man,

Speaking like some preacher

To anyone with a dime?

Why not?

This place is filled with groups of nobodies;

Yet 

they're 

all 

somebody.

A glass fish tank is glowing blue, 

Strobing to the rhythms of the doom noise jazz band;

The little people in the booth are mad on chemicals,

Their consumption is double that of any psychotic,

Any schizophrenic cop with a smile,

And any politician possessed with demons.

They dance upon each others unconscious bodies

Taking turns each passing,

Wailing out Psalms and dark incantations,

Obviously one side against the other

In a friendly game of Tom and Jerry

Tables and chairs seem to hover and move slowly,

Vibrating with the strong bass,

The player a skeleton wrapped with jaundice skin.

Cloned Egyptians wait on each guest

Giving out secrets to immortality.

A book is read out loud from a spotlit corner,

From the mouth of an eight hundred pound transexual,

Everyone pays a mind,

With crypto and wrist scans.

The book is silent;

Yet is the meaning silent?

How can anything end without such a party?

After we're long gone,

There will always be a celebration.

A chaotic tail behind us. . .

No meaning.

The new Layout feels alien. 

Back to the old Layout.

Change is the only constant;

That and chaos.

We are tumbling towards extermination

In a fashionable and stylish somersault.

Tomorrow is here.

It's here with yesterday and today.

All standing there like the three wise monkeys.

One can't see tomorrow;

Tomorrow can't tell anyone;

Third one is afraid to learn of what's to come.

This is a party that no one really wants to be at. 

Can art change anything bigger than the eyes?

Why do we need sleep,

If all we want is to live?

We have all the time 

And money

And the love in this world.

This new layout is just fine.

Would this be enough

To satisfy my creative flow,

Like honey to milk,

Lips to a glass.

Can the flow proceed

In it's natural direction

To unleash the creative juices

Like exotic fruit rinds 

A spritzer on a Martini.

An intake of enough information

Enough inspiration and junk,

To overload the psyche

To ramp up the processing speeds,

My brain, the quantum computer,

Calculating problems and how to solve them.

Are these words alone gonna solve anything?

Can our breath restart our hearts?

When does imagination,

All gathered images,

Thoughts and opinions-

When does it all become rock solid,

Constructed into reality?

At what amount of moments is good enough,

When can it be left alone,

Left peacefully to gather steam.

I am missing something,

Someone,

Some space.

Thought alone is never enough,

Images of long loss

Frozen still in the ether,

Like some preserved snowflake

Forever enshrined and unable to fall.

Life and all its sins,

Is pandoras box we've opened

We must always remind ourselves

To not take anything out of it

And bring it into reality.

    Their words are poetry

    Dancing through melodic gossiping

    Becoming anew with the blaze of infinity.

    Light, piercing our callous souls

    Brings with it a remedy

    They shine with hope

    Rejoice in the symphony 

    Talking rumors with impunity

    Bringing life to thinking,

    Beauty is in the mouth of the transmitter. 

    Stunning symmetry in all conversations

    A jubilee of talking,

    Language, symbols, encoded sounds

    A bacchanal of speech and listening.

    We all expel energy

    Of emotion,

    The magic that moves us,

    Guiding us to get things done. 

     

FEAR

Are these words all my own?

Or are they simply repurposed

recycled sounds of past remembering

Is there escaping this doubt

of losing oneself 

to all selves?

All I am left with is words

ringing symbols in my head

wriggling and anxious to be born.

*

Can there be peace among the rising,

awakened, and formed being

a crudely assembled vessel

Between order and chaos our changes bounce.

*

Whenever I look into your eyes

I see the familiarity 

the identical;

Whole truth to life

our shared paths full of pain and beauty.

*

Watching the crowds filling the streets,

groups of connected souls,

al together moving forward

through the violence and safety,

blooming forth through the cracks in the streets;

Evolution of mankind a spectacular occasion.

The no-mind.

None mind

No mind,

Observing the observer.

View the many instances

Of time

Of space,

all of the paths taken

and all the Infinite unknowns.

 

Night always arrives fast and never lasts.

It never wants to give a second,

moving in a lumbering pace,

corresponding equally with our heartbeat.

No amount of sleep or dancing,

no matter the strength we shake its hand,

Night slips like motor oil

across our conscious waking dream.

*

I prefer it to loiter around;

yet now like the day

it passes on without mindfulness,

without regard to the realty.

*

1920's 

Beachside view,

thin frosted windows

grey skies

blackened ocean

white edges.

There is music

and a fire,

and a fire.

           There is no separation of sane and madness.

            There is only degrees. 

            It's the Scoville scale

                To the spiciness of thought!

            Since existence,

            There has been a struggle

            To gain control of

                The spiciness of thought! 

            We dream it

            We do it.

            Create it and birth it;

            Then a master has captured it,

                Spiciness of thought!

            So be self master,

            learn to control it,

            balance it

            and manage it to your hearts content

                Spiciness thought.

            

               Death is trying to pull me down

               It constricts my lungs,

               My breath is low

               The bed attracts like a magnet.

               Ghosts of the other-side,

               Use old rope and weak binds

               I feel a trap to sleep whenever I lay down.

               Voice is weak, 

               It trembles when used,

               It hurts to speak

               Why must this continue 

               I struggle to keep up,

               Death keeps pulling me back.

               

Can we linger on this happiness

Stay a while and see our emptiness;

Can your friends stay?

Intense joy

Calming 

Languishing affect.

*

Tablespoons of shivering raindrops

The lucidity of it all

Pulls string theory into frame

-- Toward and onward

Ever shifting 

Outwardly and into

Everything and beyond

In rhythm and unitary with the lone 

Nothingness

 *

Happiness?

Happiness?

Stay longer this time

Wade just a moment,

Become and change us,

Our gloomy

Blue,

    Sadness.

        

In a position where the flower is poison

The fruits of the Eden is masked and rotten

Thought is twisted by nutrition,

Led to a death spiral

*

weightless silence begins to saturate us

Alone it gets tough to simply text it

over thoughts like split slit experiments 

showing us a tree of possibilities.

*

Energy gained is energy gone

like switches triggered from mirrors,

infinite flips from positive and negatives

A constant role-reversal in a never ending macro play.

*

Offers us a path or two or more

A window into a room,

a possible solution to a age old question

a way to look at something begging us to do something

*

How we are allowed to decide on which door to open,

which radio frequency we tune into

tremendous power that is thought,

a shock wave never ending and throughout this,

everything

 

    Dizzy, spinning like a broken metal fan

    jittering, skittish, cute while missing

    blue-washed eggshell walls,

    the ceiling keeps squeezing 

    a moldy orange peel

    the sound of crushing pressure,

    a tin can, an ocean canyon, 

    a darkness that can be felt,

    All things connected.

What's bad about 

absolute freedom,

is that it looks violent

chaotic

and totally unsure.

What's great about freedom

is that it is violent,

chaotic,

and assured.