Too Me

It occurs to me, frank knows what betrays me, to consider, whom it is I desire. For truth of the concern, reveals my intent. To devour. For I find pleasure in who I want to be, it’s this the draws me to... Ooo 

I’m upset the minute things don’t go the way I’ve imagined. I’ve conjured a living dream a vivid memory. Too good to be real, too real to be great. Death to HD. Fake. Hate. 

Drawn to the attempt, and the dreaming, I’ll have myself believing, this is more than lonely. 

I wish I could hide from shame. Hold on to the pain.

Sending a tingle down my spine. I'm glad you’re not mine.

Almost called darkness my light, but that wouldn’t be right. Just a place i used to call home. In case it didn’t show. 

I would have bled for fun, burnt the hair on your leg if you want. I know i know, I’m you’re favorite cunt. So what, *takes blunt. 

I’m the only one who thinks that’s cute, wouldn’t profess what has no truth. You like it like this, in the midst of two opposites. Might never commit, not sure it’ll ever exist like that for me. Wanting it desperately never made so.

What a terrible way to live, even when we’re not in pieces, we’re always finding holes within. 

You, the perfect pick me up, I bet you’d enjoy the fall. Me, always on the floor when I call. Bathroom stalls

Promise we don’t get stuck. Wanting me is just poor luck.

I faked it all

Wish it was better than it is

Talk less

Apathy is an easy death

Waste of my life, can’t get shit right, wrong turns on my mind, no thought for being right. Until I give myself a chance to breath. I hate this fucking dream.

Where to Begin

My introduction is more a rambling, an outburst of thought and conjecture, but if I don't begin right now, the thought might not return for too long a time. I hope to see what comes of it, much in the way that I hope any future reader might return to seek out these ramblings I've left behind for myself as a reminder of where I was, in search of some understanding of who I become, you've found my new beginning. Oct 2, 2018. Honestly my favorite time of the year

The Sound:

THE HEADHUNTERS

"HERE AND NOW"

I'm looking for something, and I pray this map Im here to build, can lead me to the center of this little maze. A grand world of discovery is always before us, many obstacles offer us an excuse, and yet, if we were to continually move forward undeterred we would most assuredly find the promise given to each of us.

I didn't always seek peace, drawn to the thrill of chaos, I put myself in the halls of the wild, the outrageous. No mistaking the calm that can be found in the darker corners of existence. A different sort, the silence of fear, as compelling, is never in line with the heart.

How often we leave nothing of ourselves to reflect upon. Not even for ourselves. What am I saying? I write to cleanse, much in the way I paint to rid myself of my own physical and mental blockings. Grand wild gestures, and small controlled repetitive moments, so much can be healed by simply expelling spiritual energies trapped by our lack of spiritual exercise. Our outlets for true self expression constantly regressing into smaller pockets of space. 

Im here to evaluate my writing ability. My only objective is to better convey my thoughts and ideas of creation, belief, passion, and imagination, to thoroughly explore the results of this self inquiry to their conclusion.

The Nature of

As a person of extremes, I've often found it difficult to love in spite of. A matter of do or don't, here and then gone. Nothing like a true friend to set one right on that path. For even in their truth, I find no fault with them. Not because we are free of bullshit, not because we are above reproach

October 3, 2018

It's the duality of all ships; the balance of two individuals conceiting to grow toward instead of a part. That is how we stay afloat, that is how we learn to live communally. We must be willing to accept each others khata, to see through the flaws to the perfection, to learn from one another that we can more fully develop a perfect love.

I am a flawed, distinctly difficult human being, so the miracle of finding people willing to continue to choose me is unmistakably tremendous and painfully humbling.

JaySun

A Master of Sonic Outcry

Taught me the act forgiveness, change and growth

These words are simply a map to my second language. My next a thousand words are spoken thus;

Jude

A Healer

Taught me of vulnerability

Friends have the privilege to see you from a vantage point you'll never have. Therefore the lessons that can be learned are some of the most impactful, life altering encounters you can, in no other way find.

Drizzle, Drizzy, Dre.

The Poetic Protagonist

Taught me to love the nurturer within.

New Mediums

I'm itching for new mediums.

Charles White @ the MOMA

October 4, 2018

Constantly evaluating, the intention and method of my work. Digging deeper into the compulsion. Constantly searching for new questions to ask myself. Giving my answers room to breath.

The joy of traveling to museums and galleries now, is to remind myself that I'm not alone. I can see the compulsive nature in a lot of the work I find, every medium, every cage labeled Artist relegated to sections of creation. Amongst it all, I sense in places, a familiarity in the brush strokes, in the details, in the haphazard, and the diligent. I found some pieces today at the Whitney and honestly I recognized my own hand among the lines and strokes.  I don't claim to have a masters touch yet, but it's thrilling to understand the masters hand. Not magically discerning the process, simply connecting to the intention of scrubbing out sections of settled paint. Its the things a picture can't tell you.

“Annette, the Artist’s Wife” Alberto Giacometti

It is intriguing to finally be learning the lives of artists, to understand how much of their lives are written by others, those close to the man and those close to the creator. I find it wonderfully sad and  terribly adventurous to consider what onlookers might say once you've passed your way. Not a new question. Merely coming to terms with the inevitability of the thought.