Deranged 8.

A new series of ‘Jester Eye X’ is in works. Where ‘Jester Eye X’ will also come with a reflection, only that the reflection will be deranged.

#1 Uniformed (The Front) 

Orange Uniformed.jpg

#2 Deranged (The Back)

Photo Sep 23, 3 32 41 PM.jpg

Some changes will feature in new the deranged edition. Variations of numbers, colors, and additions and divisions. If you look hard enough 7 will always be there.

Example: *Front & Back*

purple-uniformed

purple-deranged
The question still stands for people. What does it symbolize?

JesterEyeX‘ // A symbol representing
the various directions of conversation. (My feet are arrows – going any and everywhere) The triangle is the home or heart of identity. It often abides by a ‘7’ or my nickname (Jester). The eye represents the Sun ☀️ – a sustaining energy source to give insight to what it sees. My hands are wheels or spirals, connecting to what is harnessed at my disposal. The eyebrows are relevant because they symbolize the deeper lines above the eye. The lines are the journey before the destination is reached.

In the future, various new characterizations will live in the triangle. You too will be able to improvise in your own design. *sometimes these designs will be deranged* // Coming Soon – Button Therapy Clothing.!

When I say coming soon, I mean in the future expect it. No official time stamp on the date as of yet.

*8 represents the infinite and recurring – if you turn it around sideways a bit, you’ll see ∞.

Symbolism will remain the platform where my words can be understood. At times I feel I’ve talked too much, revealed too much. I begin to feel randomized, all over the place. Which is why I’ve been deranged.

Ever since I was little I would hear: “It’s not that deep” because I’d break down something into its smallest pieces, or “You are a deep thinker”. Which then makes me want to simplify what I’m saying. The point is driven home when the lines are clear.

I believe it’s possible to accept the random and the uninformed. Not everything requires explanation. It is what it is. Which means: WHATEVER IT IS – THAT’S THE WAY IT IS.<<
u are more than welcome to decode why it is. The how behind the mechanism. You can change the way you look at it. It's fun for me to take out the anatomy and find the flow of access.

I prefer clues, poetry, a sequence of riddles. I hide behind the mystery. The wand of symbolism. There's magic in the delivery of innuendo.

I also tend to reinforce what came before it. Talking too much, adding clarity to an already understood text. It's been said. Now you get it. If you don't get it, I'll put it this way…

I'm unlocking the system and getting into the matrix. Abiding by the law of the mystery and gazing into the rabbit hole. Making means from the Internet and traveling into the deep. Pages unheard of from the naked eye. Seeking to follow the prism of the ancient mind. I'll keep the chain going to infinite parallels. Meet me in between the lines. Accuse me of only finding peace. Without poison and without the gun. This drug is taken by the obedience of the familiar. Shortening my words until I can find the conceptual master.

Do you get it?<<
h.

:D<<
p>

Advertisements

HIGHLIGHTERS

I’ve been writing every day as a method to clear a path of healing for me. Writing has always been the most fluent way possible for me to reach a place of clarity within my life. When things get reckless, I write. When I triumph- I write. Even if I’m not sharing everything, keeping a journal and record of what happens is a great reminder to reflect on what life offers. What ends up happening, however, is a formula becomes adopted to achieve proper schedules of releasing what I’m writing. This eventually becomes mundane and then recycled algorithms become the nature of writing. At least for me, this has been the case lately.

When should I release it? Will this gain interest? Am I writing to solely gain interest? As a writer, I’m constantly plotting what stories to release which would engage the reader. I’m also hanging on the whims of innuendo and the symbolism. I enjoy the playground that comes with words and poetry. Escaping with words to find a deeper reality. Not talking so much is actually a window for exploration of possibility.

The word abbreviation is a long ass word. The definition is clear – to shorten. Limiting the space in the room. It’s a journey to write the lines behind and ahead of me. My life is about highlighting the pockets in between my dream and waking life reality. The course of social media is full of highlighters.
This is the age where everything, all at once is being shared. (Even that one status that released way too much personal info😳) This, That, and the *Third* is all over the Internet. These feeds are directly constructed to your own liking. What we want to see are largely based on what we choose. We are selective at best. We choose to ignore or focus on whatever interests us.

What’s feeding you is what others are being fed? “You are what you eat” or I suppose you are eating what’s been eaten by others. It can completely depend on context obviously but we are reminded of the other happenings in the world based on what other people share. Everyone is sharing and some really care, some don’t.

The illumination of poetry helps me escape when the cry for redundancy takes over. I have to give time for digestion – I’m sensitive to energy AF. To emotion. To the thing that makes us react and think. Body Language is telling. (It surreal at times because my subconscious is paying attention deeply) The fire is hot and the truth is to uncover those things that we might want to run away from.

When one adopts the fullness of fire – one is not afraid to be made aware. Truth comes to open you up to your vulnerable misunderstanding.

There is always more to the story than what you’ve heard or processed. Tasting the light means being filled with illumination. Words can be spoken to shift the paradigm of where the sound is soon to go next. In the essence of color and vision is the statement of light. The words will come as long as you stay faithful to the life that you are living. Beautiful days are one with the days that bring sorrow – how well do you pay attention to the cross streets of thunder and sound?
Pages are highlighted by significant details of recognition. I’m taking notes of what is noticeably there. Note for note. Line by line. I’m reading the passages before me as constructed by the passing of time. I’ve found it more efficient to write under the spell of passion. I’m reading the book of life by virtue of experience, constantly highlighting the moments to seize as information. Time must be recycled again and back to the fire I begin. It pleases me only to taste of what can become of myself. To venture far away in my head – dreams that build kingdom out of reality. I want to be real in this moment before I wake up. To discard the mask and swallow the pills of my dreams. The side effect is my waking life. Worming through until I can properly manifest a life I’ve always dreamt.

Bonus But Alive To Prosper

People have a right to be angry and to boil in the esteem of their indignation. Subtle jabs and obvious punches hurt just the same. A response is warranted after an attack has been made. What’s the point in standing silently after abuse has been committed?

An inner scream must become public and demanding as bruises are not private affairs. Scars account for real tissue that is embedded in trauma. Injustice parades in the street shamelessly. The voice of justice must be heard and amplified. There is no sitting around when a war is decorated as a playground.

There is outrage and fury after one has been taken through the fire. We’ve been burned. Scared and stripped from our heritage. We’ve been described as criminals. The mere existence of evil has been spelled with the same alphabet we’ve used to speak peace. Terror is etched through the airwaves to confuse and bankrupt us.

By decreeing scattered promises which are scorned through the agenda of absurdity. This absurdity is rooted in a division. Through lackluster vision which empties unity. They have forgotten the breath of oxygen that breathes into us all. Because of this – lamentation haunts the walls of the neglected.

We are the unheard. The impoverished. But we stand to win with our strength. Our dreams are made of courage and honor. We have not forgotten our magic. Our minds are adorned with wisdom. We’ve partaken from the science of our tribulations. We have the knowledge and we’ll be damned to not enforce the learning from our studies.

Heavens Thighs

I’ll take it further than you’ve ever imagined. I’ll outdo your expectations and rise like the Phoenix from Arizona.

Wait for what?

You’d actually do that?

Yep.

So cover your ears if you need to.

Take Shelter.

I ain’t hiding anything.

The force of my lighting is going to strike.

You are already close to the tree.

Nothing will keep you from the flame that is ahead.

Unless you want to be burned with the wrath that is to come.

This wrath is fueled by love.

A love that adorns this sanctuary with jewels and luxury of embellishment.

In heavens thighs, there is very little room for sighs.

For the breath of the everlasting light, is exhaled when you don’t fight.

Give into this joy and inhale this bliss – once you taste of my caress we will evaporate into this.

A touch so profound it’s meant to explore paradise in all of its treasure.

Let’s climb into a climax of Royal pleasure.

A promise of this feeling is sure as we have now found the cure.

The disease is stricken from our skin – as now we have been blessed to win.

You were afraid I’d actually commit to such a crime.

Who would have ever thought we would make up the time?

Look at us now as we glide with an illustrious design. The prophecies were true and damn, we fine.

Take it as a sign – we’ve enveloped the best of our mind.