Can't Suppress

This was written about two others plus me by someone who, because of who she is, is unclouded. It was set to a tune and accompanied by a guitar that she played. The title was "The Lover, The Fighter, and The Prophet".

"And he had this way about
Seeing through.
Holding answers, breaking hate
Is how he lives so true.

Singing art and urging hope
Guiding me,
Giving me the want to sooth
Peoples crying plea.

Oh, my god
I hold him by the store
He says his last goodbye but I hold his neck once more.
Don't have fear
My throat begins to ache,
Striving more and more but he doesn't take his break.
He won't stop fighting through the haze...
Fighting through the haze.

Keeping up with other boys,
As a kid
Though he'd rather sit with thoughts,
As he laid and hid.

If you've ever seen his face
Calm and strong
And his reassuring eyes
That tell us we belong.

Oh my god,
Brother, hold your gladness
Don't think you've failed at all and release your darkest sadness
You have light
A light most don't posses
I try to keep it in but these things I can't suppress
When you come back I'll be smiling at the door
Smiling at the door."

It is evident to me, in knowing the author of this song as well as I do, how much heart is in this song. She believes more than most. She wants to believe even more than that. Doubt and insecurity plague her. What she doesn't know is that all the things that she sees in us are reflected in her. No, not reflected. They burn in her. She is still trying to put the pieces together just like the rest of us. Goddamn, like the rest of us. They pull at her, every direction. She doesn't know where to go. Looking to us to be examples, and what shitty examples to look to. She thinks she needs us. We need her. She has her own solidarity that will be yearned for in these coming times. The world will look to her and how will she look back? Whatever she chooses, I will be the fighter. I will fight. For her, for us. For the flame we protect. I will fight. This is what she needs to understand. He is her prophet, he is her lover, and I am her fighter.

It rips through me every time.
Keep your eyes up.

On the Rainslick Precipice of Darkness: Episode One

Be Enriched

MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.

A Match for Twenty Blue Devils

My face is pulp. My guts is pierced. Best shape I've been in.

My feeling of apprehension has settled into the pit of my stomach and won't let go. The temporary worry of certain events masked the true cold feeling, but now that it has passed, I return to my former mentioned ship. I stand and look out over the waters. Days from land, I know a storm is coming. A bad storm. I am not alone on this ship, but I don't know who is with me. I don't know if it will kill us, but it will certainly make us stronger. This is not told to me by this dream, this feeling. All that is revealed is the impending doom.

I still can't sleep.

I know we have made this storm. We have brought it on ourselves. I feel like hurtling death at those on this boat. To quote a greater man than I, "I look at people and I see nothing worth liking."

My work continues on various projects. I wish I could get my hands on a lathe again. I am able to focus when working a piece of wood like that.

I think I want this. I want to know this. I know I am fucking terrified.

Growth Based Society

Out On the Killin' Floor

The Departure

She is leavin.
This I know.
But will I sleep, my gut says no.

She travels now, seeing what she wants to see. For the next 43 days she will tour all that she has learned. I hope she achieves enlightenment.

You can view her travels here.

I look to myself now and question. Am I the warrior?

So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now.
Embracing you, this reality here,
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wide eyed and hopeful.
Wide eyed and hopefully wild.

We barely remember what came before this precious moment,
Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in
This body makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion.

We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside
This holy reality, this holy experience.
Choosing to be here in

This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.

Alive, I

In this holy reality, in this holy experience. Choosing to be here in

This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal
All this pain is an illusion.

Twirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this chance to be alive and breathing.

This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. We are eternal.
All this pain is an illusion.

A Passage of Time

Give it some Thought.


Through some weird vortex of time I have neglected many things that demand my attention. Namely this and my project. I have been pouring myself into two other projects that I think will see a wonderful conclusion. GUTS is one of those two and it has blossomed more than I could have imagined. You will all see when it is done.

Keep your eyes up.