This is going to be kind of like a journal entry. I never keep a journal,
but I feel like doing it, so I'm going to do it. It's like, the first step in a
long line of many, mini steps. Almost ready. I feel like I should stretch
out before I start. Ballistic. You know, like a fighter or something.
Okay. Here I go.

Right now I'm stuck in this little bubble. I got put here by some trouble
just a few years ago. Man, it was ****** up ****, like the most ****** up I've ever been in. Life, as they say, got the best of me. **** came first, then beer all day er'day, spending my living living with some ****** up ***** who's bad with money. We matched 'cause I'm ****** up. I ****** up, 'cause I shut up. First time lifestyle collaborator, so it was like, man what-am-uh-gonna-say? I feel love and I've been conditioned to just ride that **** with pride on your ****. Don't tell me I don't know what I want man. I've got my head on straight. Don't hate. Haters can't appreciate romance, bro. Come back when you learn that, yo. I don't blame the drugs, so I kept 'em when we left together, but
in different directions. Live-in gone. Foundation rot. Suspension shot.
****! **** **** ****! I hit ground with my teeth. Instead of asking
for help when it was needed I took help that kept me breathing
till I could ***** my head on almost too many terrible months in
the future which I never thought I would see in fruition, and I admit
in volition that (cough) (cough) I almost lost myself totally, ******* stripped of the holy one and only. One and only.

We've. Received. Bad vibes.

So now there's nearly nothing to my name unless you count the
meter it retains. But I've got flies in my pocket that I sprinkle
for pepper in my popcorn bag. There's no space for me here but
there's vacancy in the matrix. And I see the signs lit up. Being
singular not enough? I'd rather be rich and ubiquitous than poor
and bored while I whittle the days away, feeding my head with
whatever's left from original message I received. I've opened that **** and I tried it on for 23, pressed to impress but it wasn't me.
Listen when I say it, 'cause I'm serious, now that my name is
worthless what could it hurt to burn some synapses and knight
myself? After all I don't count on being rescued from this hell.
What's my name? Anything will do. But it's got to be very memorable
and cool. How should I glow when I get outta this cocoon? Take
it to the Max. Normal won't do, 'cause it's gotta be catchy for the
TV and YouTube. I won't be a copycat, no, never. It's just gonna be the
me that I've eternally received only under my belt, tight to the
extreme.

Like. The lost. Before.

"When the pious Cabbalist Rabbi Simon ben Jochai came to die, his friends said that he was celebrating his wedding." — C. G. Jung

I loved away my youth,
Mistook passion for a truth
By which one's will is lead.
The journey of the "dead"
Replaced my singular life,
And Death became my wife.

To which ports of our
pasts do we
find ourselves tethered?

Towards what unreachable
futures do our
hands slide with pleasure?

Well,

Some sticks and some stones,
They may break a few bones, but
I've got megaton bombs,
That make dust out of homes,
My days are spent waging war,
Spreading famine and disease, and
I get anything I want, without ever saying please,
I'll slay your dragon, storm your castle,
Once I swim across your moat,
I'll slit your throat, and take your life,
Then **** your wife, and steal your goat,
I've overdosed on every drug ever imagined or conceived,
I've got a guile that's monumental, and I'm eager to deceive,
I'll tell you anything you want because you're willing to believe,
I'll build you up to break you down, the lost pieces, never retrieved,
My victims receive no reprieve, I live a life with no remorse,
My course of action's one for which I'll never seek recourse,
I'm an immovable object, I'm an unstoppable force,
I have discarded sympathy, and from my empathy divorced,
I'll bet you think that I'm depraved, that I'm a morbid ball of slime, but
I'm asleep inside of you, and you'll be mine within due time, cause
I'm the devil on your shoulder, I'm the voice inside your head,
I'm the blackout following the vision tinted red,
I'm the man inside your closet, monster underneath your bed,
I'm the reason for the millions the world over lying dead,
I feed my hunger with your fear, wet my thirst with blood and tears,
This machine is shifting gears, don't try to scream; no one will hear
I'm not a problem you can solve with stronger locks or bigger guns,
In fact, it's when you seek these things I know that I've already won.

Sleep tight.

In pursuit of an elusive harmony
     summer nights rolled away from us
     reverberating into a numinous bass line
     while reconciling our dreams
     with a burgeoning truth

Flustered with desire
     and walking in a non-ordinary reality. Lost within the Source
    of all there is and ever was. We re-animated
    navigating through portals unexplained
     to retrieve this love

We plied our differences into commonality
     and re-aligned our fractured selves using the agency
     of synchronicity - having found
     an immutable archetypal truth
     and having found from where our self-portraits flow

Much more than soul mates, Plato
     offers stories of Zeus splitting souls in half
     as punishment for pride.
     In this incarnation, have we found humility?
     Will this be enough to carry us back to nobility?
    
It is challenging to find your way back
     into a lover's arms. Mistakes haunt us eternally (if we allow for that)
     but every morning if we awake
     and let go, using the suns setting and rising as a reminder that
     with experience, guidance, and repetition ... it gets easier

My half soul
     awoke as my mortality decomposed
     when half becomes one, then the real turmoil begins
     from the shores of St. Mary, Raven calls
     and I follow my destiny into an Obsidian Night

She danced
a symbolic grace
with a look of malice
written on her face

She cast a
lunatic eclipse
of my erratic soul

The Maiden
The Mother
The Crone

It was more than a phase

Just a glimpse into our story-lines
She was the moon
I was the son

The anima
The animus
star-crossed
in our own paths
in our own way

I crowned her in stars,
she shed the scales
from her eyes
and we met
in a fiery embrace

Heaven on Earth
aligned like syzygy,
but only for a moment
We destroyed each other,
Yet we were complete.

You are a leader ship

how I know this?

cause I'm a leader ship too

I can see the sinuous fibre of your very being

take a look

I bet you can see it too

we are borne of the earth and the stars

borne in the wind

there are four cardinal directions, N E S W, do not forget about the intermediary

be an intermediary ~ who wants to be a cardinal?

we need our leader ships following their own true north

2D - 3D -- 4D --- 5D ---------------------------- >

following the wormholes ... the aether

following certain signs and symbols

trust in divine feminine ... .. . .. ... masculine divine in trust
trust in masculine divine ... .. . .. ... divine feminine in trust

" 'It's all this!' He wrapped his finger in his fist; the car hugged the line straight and true." ~ Kerouac

Ship builders choose their timber mindfully
Be mindful with your archetypes, Noah!

I can play cards.

La sexualidad sera discutida por las mentes mas brillantes del mundo haber que hacen…