Death & Revisionism

Death & Revisionism

There seems to be something cosmic about death that encourages a replenishing of the pen. When someone dies – the writers of the pen order a sharp box of new ink! The pencil sharpens its eraser to remove any potential bad news in favor of the preferred story to go with.

If you lived your life as a warmonger – present history shouldn’t erase the trauma and abuse you inflicted in the past. We’re socialized to think, that the moment you die, only your good things should be recalled. Ain’t it strange how we pardon the far away demise in favor of the familiar narrative of heroism?

How, am I supposed to look at the monster that destroyed and conquered the land that wasn’t his? Should I smile at him? Will my smile somehow convince him that my compassion means more than the lives he slaughtered? Maybe the beams in my eyes will illuminate his misery and cause self-reflection that may ultimately lead to repentance?

It’s probably just a dystopian myth led by Christian hope. Even in ‘progressive’ areas of the world, death is still dressed in a traditional garment. The pretended grief from strangers and sunglasses donned to protect friends and family to see underneath it all, you’re not even crying. When someone dies, our memories tend to go through the watch of time and we selectively hold on to the vision we prefer. Americans in particular, are so conditioned to valorize the powerful and defend the people rich enough to afford their own counsel.

I want to envision a world where my love and good vibes actually mean something transcending. but that’s a mission of the strange. It’s almost like reality is stranger than fiction but an illusion is as real as verified science. I can’t seem to grasp the undertaking of a volcanic eruption. The enormity of an explosion which causes lava to scatter to even the most distant villages.

Some people live very close to the volcano and built there entire life there. What about the people who live in areas where hurricanes are common visitors? Should they be worried when the waters come to take what they worked for? Death is not any more mysterious as it is – destiny. A life of shortcomings cannot make one tall suddenly when they leave this planet. Their legacies are what keeps them alive and an objective perspective helps the ash from spreading.

Some people live very close to the volcano and built there entire life there. What about the people who live in areas where hurricanes are common visitors? Should they be worried when the waters come to take what they worked for? Death is not any more mysterious as it is – destiny. A life of shortcomings cannot make one tall suddenly when they leave this planet. Their legacies are what keeps them alive and an objective perspective helps the ash from spreading.

This month I’m taking a break from social media. (Deleted Twitter, Instagram, FB, etc – from my phone – and logged out from other Devices) I’ve called this pink hibernation – it’s already improved my writings and reading (just 3 days in). Social media can be a wonderful tool in bringing to light the sweet and sour grits of the world.

The troubles of life take a larger seat in our consciousness because they make the most profit. simply put, I’m exhausted from the usual annoyances kept at bay by news outlets. You can’t go anywhere too long without a complaint or reminder that tribalism is the new wave to jump on. There’s a lot to learn and I want to pay closer attention to processing information and to toil with silence whenever it comes around.

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Intellect Hanging On The Wings Of The Immaculate

Intellect Hanging On The Wings Of The Immaculate

Sometimes, you need to be reminded that; You are a brave soul. With wings to fly. You have the muscles and energy of your ancestors strong in you right now. Remember You Are Royal, and Your Intelligence is A Reminder of This Very Fact of Your Flight! Connecting with the plural (a group) means understanding the singular landscape (Individual sense of self).

I hope you can listen to this affirmation, and then move accordingly into a Higher Height and even a deeper depth. You got this!

You are intelligent – remember that. If you don’t feel like you are, you can learn about yourself. Get familiar with the sand. Understand nature and unlock the pineal gland. Realizing on a conscious collective that we all have been given this knowledge individually. At the primitive core – we reflect a broader reality. No longer must we subject ourselves to the illusion of systematic indoctrination. All of us can push into higher places with the sharpening of insight.

It takes studying. Reading. Listening.

We have been given mobility, and that grants us access to our individual journey. Realizing that our abilities can be sharpened and we can go to further than we ever thought was possible.

In other words: The knowledge of your abilities is hanging on the wings of those who have gone that far – your ancestors.

How To Unlock Caterpillar Logic

How To Unlock Caterpillar Logic

Growing up in New Orleans for me was a privilege, that I don’t take for granted in my childhood. It meant good food, lively music, snowballs, and a rich culture. It also meant around spring time caterpillars would hang from my grandparents oak trees!

 

I dreaded caterpillars because they were very thick and sticky. There was often a host of caterpillars all crammed together like a pack of sardines. April and May, in particular, meant caterpillars would be everywhere from the sidewalks, bushes, and my grandmother’s porch. This did not mean much to my grandfather when he’d want assistance in cleaning the sidewalk.

“Come on out here boy, this sidewalk won’t brush itself!!” He’d yell.

“But he’s hysterical of those caterpillars!” Gammie would plead!

I’m thankful my Gammie always had my back and considered how I felt! It is through her care and concern, I never had to help my pops clean around outside during the spring! Luckily, I had a brother who didn’t mind as much! 😀

I never shook my fear of them until I left New Orleans. I didn’t see them at all in Texas although I noticed on occasion, I’d catch small moths and butterflies. I’ve grown to appreciate the caterpillar because of its developmental changes. I reference their process often in my life. Looking back at how afraid I was, I now see a misguided fear. Was I afraid of growing? Could I soon break free from the cocoon? The more I learned about their process, the more I appreciated their relevance in all living existence.

I made a short video breaking down an allegorical connection between caterpillars and the flow of your ideas!

A Relic In The Ocean

A Relic In The Ocean

A life can be tossed or rolled down the hill
When it reaches the concrete ground – is there life still?
After being pressed and torn up without a single care
After all of that destruction, is this even fair?
By the time it’s all said and done – nobody has won
Love and hate is already inside of the gun
No one seems willing to pull the trigger
Fear starts to grow stronger and BIGGER
The fetus position is invited for a safer swallow
There they began minimizing themselves in a paper like hollow
When troubles aim to roll us up like a fat blunt
Are we still backing up our integrity from the front?
Historians have written down this story for you to read
It’s up to you to make life a good deed
Or this can simply be another relic in the ocean
A story hardly capable of stirring motion.

Ambiguous Windows

Ambiguous Windows

The rise of the enchanting normal
Separates the odd and the desolate
Ambiguous windows are imagination’s fate

I know that revelation is out there
I can sense the tap on my shoulder
Once turning away from it – the touch persisted and became older
I Can’t find the source of my irritation
Might it be the mind leading me to imagination?

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

Everybody’s looking for a story to relate
Looking at a situation that encourages them to no longer wait
Although I can play recommended part
I can’t convince myself to start

The windows of my confessions are ambiguous
The doors to my certainty are locked away
The key to my access is chained to a combination of gray

When lost to the present idea – I’m pulled by the culture of group think
Everyone abiding by their own ink
If we can believe our own rosy illusion
Why should we run away at confusion

I’ve looked in the mirror far too less
My reflection is anyone’s guess
I much rather look out the window to find anything that can be
Imagination removes the veil and sets us free

Getting There

Getting There

FOLLOW ME AS I CAPTURE THE ESSENCE OF THE WIND
WE MAY BEGIN TO REVEAL THE SEEDS OF MY SIN
CRYSTAL STARLIGHT HOVERING OVER YOUR HAIR
A WANDERING CALL BECKONS YOU TO SIT OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE YOU ARE NERVOUS WITH DESIRE
WISHING FOR PURPOSE TO STING YOU WITH A HOLY FIRE
THEY CAN’T SEEM TO SEE THROUGH YOUR OPEN WINDOW
THOUGH YOUR HEART BEATS WITH A CRIPPLING CRESCENDO

LOST IN AN UNKNOWN LAIR – WHERE GOVERNING BEATS REPEAT
SOUNDS GLISTEN PROVIDING RHYTHMIC MEDICINE TO YOUR FEET
A MAP OF PROMISE BEGINS TO ARISE FROM THE SMOKE
A CAT APPEARS TO REMIND YOU OF FATES JOKE

HOW DID YOU EVER FIND THIS ARENA OF CIRCUMSTANCE
WHEN DID YOU EVER FORGET THE CODE OF TRANCE
NOW YOU CAN’T HELP BUT TRIP ON A SLIPPERY BASE
THEY CAN’T UNSEE YOUR BONAFIDE FACE

THE TOKENS HAVE ALL FELL OVER INSIDE A SHALLOW CREEK
AS OUR POCKETS WERE FULL – WE COULD HARDLY SPEAK
BLESSED ARE THE DAGGERING MOTIONS FROM THE SEA
FOR WOE WAS THEE, NO LONGER ME – FOR NOW WE HAVE THE KEY

Punitive Punch

Punitive Punch

They came with a punitive punch. A punch meant to sentence me to prison. They wanted me to pay for all my alleged crimes.

There I went – flying with punishment for crimes I did not commit. Something as small as an ant turned into a monster from The Transformers series.

What’s the point of making something so minuscule a major quandary? The implication of guilt then breeds a fierce judgment which disqualifies my actual existence to think freely.

Applauding progress nowadays is like sticking a gun up to someone after they sincerely apologize. I want to change that. Progress deserves a laudable response when met with demonstrative commitment.

Instead, I’m given a whip to my brain – fighting over the grains of sand while building skyscrapers with what remains.

This was a knockout to the mind and a strangle to my neck. I was sent without warning and while believing I was strong, I then came across a nail polish bottle.

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This was a test of my strength and I couldn’t pass it as well as I thought. The twists and turns only left my hands bruised – this was a punch meaning to wrongfully arrest me with brutal enforcement. 

This was meant to make a mockery of my weakness and while we all deal with it at some point. I’ve already been locked in a padded cell. I’m crying out for Justice and Mercy, but will I ever be heard? The guards laugh at me as they know this familiar story.

So, what’s left to say when you’ve been punched? You can hit back but a punch ain’t a pinch. This punch was a knockdown to my rebuttal. A rebuke to my progress – a punitive punch which knocked me to the ground.

As I lay down to lick my wounds, I’m reminded that a punch doesn’t mean it’s the end of me. A punch is much like a reminder that it was all a joke. *Like come on, don’t take it that seriously* I sure as hell ain’t Laughing but I’m not crying either. A striking blow yes, but it opened a window to my healing.

Now, I can contemplate my next move! I’ll offer a punch back this time – with a spike. Then we can get this party started for real! No more tears or fears – Justice has finally served us pardoned.

Hallow Rush

Hallow Rush

Holy is the night – as the darkness invites all of those who play in sight. The scare of the light is embraced by the thrill of the night. We’re all responsible for the treat, but the master of personal experience is the ultimate trick. Should you? OR Shouldn’t you?

Was it Wrong or right? The ‘evil’ somehow is still followed by good. Could we live in perfect nirvana? Even if we could, how long would it take for someone to raise hell?

It didn’t take Lucifer that long to demand equal rights. Sure, he wanted to imitate but isn’t that the highest form of flattery? Lucifer was an angel, the most decorated angel. But Lucifer was not satisfied with God’s treatment of the angels because God created angels as His slaves (Strange but true). They had no other will but to serve him so maybe his robots?

Eh, you catch my drift.

While humans were given free will. Lucifer wanted this same thing among the angels, to which God didn’t agree. As a result, Lucifer launched a rebellion against God with other angels he persuaded (this means Lucifer had free-will, btw)

Seems to me, Lucifer did not do anything that would be evil by today’s standards. I read the bible enough to see this. 😀

Has he killed people? Nah. Has he destroyed someone else’s life? Nah. Has he tried to be an intruder on something that humans were doing, just out of sheer curiosity? Nah.

(Well technically, God made a deal with the devil to see how long Job could endure a shitty experience.)

Lucifer was just an angel with wit and intelligence. He didn’t kill anybody, nor he did anything immoral by today’s standards. Still, Lucifer is considered “Evil” because he launched a rebellion against God demanding equality of just free-will.

Ah, the philosophy of Free Will!

At any rate, boogie on down with no fear of monsters grooving with you too. It’s all Dichotomy. Some would say darkness opposes light and that monsters and angels aren’t the best of friends.

I think everything has an intricate relationship. It’s all connected. You can’t remove the taboo completely, it adds context to the story. If there wasn’t a thrill of climax, no one would be coming.

Would you really watch a movie if there was no climax? There’s got to be a rush. A Holy Rush!

Halloween is finally here – the treat and the trick. Which one is which?

Earnest & The Helium Balloon

Earnest & The Helium Balloon

It ‘twas the middle of October, a day, unlike this rest. It wasn’t just the red, orange, and yellow leaves in view that colored excitement in the air. Today was different. Today was the last day of the State Fair.

A time where extroverted girls and boys are filled with anticipation. With plenty to do and plenty to see. This day was guaranteed to feel like the longest day of the year. Earnest waited for this day to arrive. He had dreamed about it for oh so long. As happy as he was – he was also determined to win something. He felt ambition racing through him like warm lights rising from the darkness. He knew he wanted not only to win but to have fun.

Where could he go first? Earnest was as close to his name as one could get. Filled with intention and a pocket of anxiousness – he tried with all of his power to focus. Before he knew it – all time had passed and he had only one game left to play before the fair closed.

Earnest had a lot of fun but very little to none chances at winning – this was his only shot. He kissed his hands as he held the hammer tightly. He wanted to hit the ball as hard as he could so the pinpoint could ring all the way up to a 100 Skies. Bam! He hit – to his pleasant surprise he was only 14 points away from 100. The attendant yelled: “EIGHTY-SIX! Congratulations you won the last red balloon of the evening!”

Earnest snickered with excitement! Not only did he have a loaded time but he finally won a prize worth taking home! Earnest held to the thin rope which held the balloon in place. On his way back home he noticed just how windy the day had turned. The leaves seemed to blow harder while the balloon swayed with it.

Earnest noticed, however, even when the wind wasn’t windy – his new found friend didn’t seem to want to stay with him. He decided he would tie it around his trousers to prevent it from wandering off. As he pulled the balloon closely to him – he held it with both hands lightly as to not pop it. In flash moment, his grip loosened a bit but the balloon nearly flew away. He was convinced it didn’t want to be his friend. The balloon seemed to go up with a force not found in the wind.

He carefully tied a knot on his trousers and hurried home before it could escape again. Puzzled by the floating balloon he searched on the internet about what strange phenomena would possess a balloon to fly away.

He pronounced the words slowly:

H-E-L-I-U-M.

He learned it wasn’t the balloon itself but a chemical lighter than air which caused the balloon to rise. Earnest smiled because he then realized:

Everything ain’t that deep. Sometimes you come to have fun. You might win. You might lose and what you gain can still slip away. Doesn’t mean it has intentions. Life doesn’t have to have a purpose in between your own desires. So come, to the fair for fun – cause if not for fun – what’s the experience for anyway?

The Qualified Sum

The Qualified Sum

If you’re gonna play: Rock, Paper, Scissors with me – look directly into my eyes. Only look down when it’s time to decide who won. You’re cheating if you look at the hands the whole time, Don’t debate me – on this! 😀

Games like Rock, Paper, Scissors and Tic Tac Toe (X’s and O’s) are based on specific patterns. If you learn them, you’ll be able to win depending on if your opponent makes a mistake. Worst case scenario is that there would be a tie with no winners or losers. Yay!

I find games like this fun because with enough repetition – your subconscious catches on to how the player makes their move. We don’t always win at this but if you aren’t aware of the algorithm – you’ll find yourself losing more and more. This doesn’t always favor your ego, especially if you’re used to winning.

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Some of us are so bitter when it comes to failing we revise history to our advantage. *coughs – white people* It makes absolutely no sense to do this. It just makes you a sore loser. White Supremacists, Neo-Nazis, and Confederate loving Americans are PRIME at doing this. They don’t wanna look at history for what it is but rather what they want to make out of it.

Times like now are interesting because they force us to examine the ways we cheat at excusing our behavior. We’re afraid of owning up to some of our own biases if they mean proving us wrong.

Ever caught yourself in a: “NOT ALL OF US” KIND OF MOMENT?

It should be painfully obvious that ‘NOT ALL ‘ is dumped in when talking about a group of people. I’ve been seeing a lot of statements like #MenAreTrash – previously, I would get on the defense whenever I’d hear a generality like that because ‘HEY NOT ALL MEN ARE TRASH’.

Now, I knew I had trash ways as a man and I didn’t want to look at them because ‘We all fall short’ but this isn’t the way to go about it. If you don’t fit in the scenario than keep it moving.

Some are qualified in the variables made – if you don’t fit the shoe, don’t even try to wear it. Our egos can be big and to check ourselves is the easiest thing we can do if our feelings start running amuck.

In short: We qualify which moves we make on the board. The best we can aim for is to even out. We don’t gotta get mad if it ain’t about us. One of the best things I learned from my grandmother is “Everything ain’t about you and trust me – that’s a good thing!.”