Something to Offer

 

 

The beginning of a brand new show

 Prefer to work with my Muse (fully) again. The political pandering
and maintenance ongoing of the world, with content rights,  so much commotion,
I just wish to delve in to what the creative forces offer.
Raw and with wildness or subtle and soft, or of anything beyond a buffer to the 
electric pulse.
People can be awful and people can be amazing.
I was raised by the moon and the sun until my grandparents died.
My dad knew to get away from the ultradrunk.   Some people have siblings but there are no brothers to call on and sister mercy is tying up suitors with bandanas it seems.

you go through many incarnations of life in a single lifetime. Even when life ends I'm sure it seems as just another continuation. ("Oh, I'm back on the elevator again, and this is the waiting song.")
Then what? Step off, onto another floor.



You have to give it all up, let it all go
to move on.
I can't raise you any more, all the problems you keep.

Well the muse is the only thing to get me out of this repetitive cycle 
one that no one else could ever understand yet every single person
can relate, just not in the exact same way but almost in common enough contemplations.

I have to use my brain or soul or something to get me out of this imitation hell.

Muses used to come in the formation of people but they'd sod sold off for material gain and things I can't say for it doesn't sound nice and I'm the politest of politest. 
but I'm holding on dead or something.
the world lessons seem boring now

and everyone knows the script too well, or sometimes it seems everyone does.
You fill your commentary of insight into the adaptions of all others,
and their antennae or rhythm zones of the next mass of sentience reaching. How many will grab? how many will pursue? Get those suckers out of purgatory --- no, they just think it's regular life.

I want a better world but it's up to me.

do it widespread or secretly.
The World's your Mind or God and you're its,  but there's all that commotion shit in the way of peace,
car fuck ups and human deaths, science exploitations and hollywood cults you name it
Jesus man did I sign up for this shit
let's trust somebody,
no that one, yes, ahhh, some rip offs how guessable,
no, go to the shore, be unfound, some peace for a while,
no gossip,  American poetry, something to casualize.  The people can handle it for a while,
me I'm on break, don't call my name you know, for a steady, steady long while.

 

 Today's fathers day and my dad is not on  planet earth any more.
I'm not going to be negative or none of that.
I just am going to continue to do what I have been and yet
hopefully so in a more positive light each and every day.
 I will still be honest about my perceptions on this world
and also the views of this apparatus called self in which sees it,
and which parts of that might be better to update as well.
But I do not reach out often because my arms and hands have been bitten by sharp things,
or there were hands said to help and then gone when learning
you always pull your self up
and pull your own self up
and even if there are hands (or teeth) around
you still by habit pull your own self up any how,
by function of safety and that it really is
eye for an eye

and tooth for a tooth
anymore in this world.

I'd like to make more cute humored things or playful expressions,
but a house is not always a home,
and sometimes, even, intensities expressed can be soothing or healing
for those that had that kind of learning process.
It ain't the easy road but you can stay in shape and stay active,
and what's been a thing a million times, intense to somebody else,
is just another day for ya.

I'd like it to be easier but it's Hermes that has to tread through Hells,
on and on, comparing the hot and cold.

have a great week

 

lucky favors

 

 

you must be mad about it, but I'm still alive. digging through folders finding pieces to merge sounds atop. Here's one. All the OCD and life's ongoings, and music distribution calamity kept it all a-heck. Will make this into a little intermission piece prolly. I like to create, I do not like to socialize! and I like nature. And feel animals communicate in miraculous ways. Three truths finally

 

 

 

Pt I the husks of a crucial dammit machine

 Possibly selling a motorbike.
No description listed. 
If you wish to buy it for $2,300, let me know.
Offers only accepted until the end of this month, though,
will otherwise just take those grueling steps to make it run diligently.

Next steps:
wait a second, they want musicians and artists t.....
no that is another psychological rant.
If you study the sequences of many of these rants, they
follow the same trajectory in an exactness that may just drive you wild,
or really heat up your oil. (and how!)
It came to me that I'd been writing the same exact rant with new spices
and flavors ever since the 1990s which was already 500 years ago.
and here I am doing it all again right now. 

If you come out the other side of it with an increase of massive anxiety,
or perhaps a liberated conscience (for as comparing it to mine with
such an upheaval of the most deeply entrenched feelings of sour guilt
and self-derived overplanning) then you owe yourself a contribution
to funding my earth extraction space progra----
well no,  

I have this sentence of living on a planet
sitting beside many broken in shoes
and scattered notebooks.
The subversion is too fierce for many to ever handle
and it had even taken me down several times
but I get up at the oddest of hours, you see?
I see romance and heartfelt is dead on this planet.
You need a good motor of honest, up to no good daring,
but the eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth, 
when you realize the potential of your career has billion dollar industries
fighting against it,
and  they want the artist or creators today to be able to get along to go along,
well that ain't gonna cut it, bud!

There are thoughts in people's minds right now that could change and benefit the world but you have to hire some faction of some of the DOOFIEST damned e-celebs or hamfisted, selectively picked... no, no. But I had a phrase right here on deck to type away.  Then a wild animal beside me decided to start going and moving in all directions, splaying attention all out of me.
But if I try to redirect (I am censored and essentially spleened on things like Facebook and Instagram by the way.  The algorithms are punk ass bitches, you might say. You get burned forever if your subsversive humor that MEANS well doesn't translate so some uppity ultra woke censors can flag you and demote the ability to transfer thought, expression and idea.  Hey nice new religion. Nice cult. Nice self suffocated schematic of a machine that expunges and presses out the 'uniqueness' of not being able to have casual conversations of lighthearted affairs of being a human on a planet Earth. That is why after they ban all others who are merely in the room (me) the blatant need to be a victim and to shut out all alterior thought will lead further to such fXlks devouring one another! and it will happen. I know me self-referencing Tom Sawyerian charm and self-analytical professionalism might throw you off or not feign such doubt on this matter. but touchy authoritarians who lambast at being anti-authoritarian are the reason unto much that such "extremism" of thought is growingly commonplace. People who just wish to live and love and do their own darned thing ask simple question,  and frankly my dear, you are now ultrabanned.)   

and aside from that. What else do you need to know?  There are a few goals.  The mullen is able to be harvested around here.  I am gleeful about some tobacco growth for a newborn season of this particular plant. I had made offer to trade some mint leaves to someone who spoke of have many seeds for possible growth, of plants that I am not even sure of but would find excitement in later identification.

The thought on the mercy-shoulder, actually, that nearly left me, was:

Those who are tortured on earth feeling vacated by a sense of earnesty in the arts,
may well produce something along the lines of authenticity and yet also a mental apparition of extreme unease to the walking public.
It takes the ability to feel torture, in that a realization of what earth could be versus what we are stuck in, doesn't mind the potential and seemingly pointless task of beginning to even express it at all.

An heirloom of hope is the affectionate, supporting lover, or the encouraging apparatus of a human being.  Such may lift you out of a ditch if they see you half dead. Or lift a flower to the sky without shooting it into smithereens for some new fangled music video which also includes ASSES CRIME and DETORIATED LOBES.   
It's to be done with style, slow drawl and an accentuation in which the market value cannot wade even gently in as due to the obsessive flood  that products today and merely digital and not hands on.  
Again, I recognize your suspicion of my state of mind in general. But if you piece through some of this roasting upon my very engagement in all subjects, aimed at me by me, you'll find serious consideration of the psychological and emotional state of a planet that knows the reigns of 'hope' itself is as much of a joke or subversion that I'm using as a safety net but also a tool.

If it's any sleuth of use, I would transfer over more hope during each one of these writings.
I've been off the walls but also not as intense as possibly accused. Moreso just peering into all of this, watching the manias of the manies, and going personally through things where I should be a lot more damned cynical, absolutely, or should have given up or dropped mostly all of this (creations, expression) by far some time ago.  Oh boo hoo poor me, et all.
"It's not our fault you were born at the wrong time." or something like that.
There are excuses hidden in those statement!
and you can't go waiting around for other people, for affairs of scenarios for the rest of the eye for an eye world to save you, or, and this is sad, to even lend a hand. Hell, people remember things like that.

It's just so easy to get lost in this sweep of social media mass hallucination (and I believe that is what it is when brining on the brunt of projectionism) and where some good momentum for hands on projects could be found and made, a huge statistic of people are trying to find company or company in idea and project by jumping onto these damned machines. The magic of activity and the magic of even daring to stare failure in the face and say "off the horse!,"
or more appropriately, "give me your tax dollars, personal enemy!" and beginning something. 
Organic, I mean. With heart.  Billion dollars industries will sniff you out real damned quick, though.
But that's okay.

 

 Come gather round,
all my prospects of afterward-insight did rejoice to consider. But only after the fact that complaining hastily into some void of a blog wasn't an all too well ventured kind of theatre attraction.   
What a transparent window.  But it didn't do a heap of good in such a sprawling mess of unsorted thought just garbling everywhere.  With the vomitous charm of mystical sparkle and led painted forrays over some naked, vicious figure dancer who can't sit still to even have a jump suit painted on.

It's no easy business, however, the hard way.
The easy way, though, just invites the latter (the hard way)
and the middle way, that's some way where I'd been told before
"oh, walk down the middle of the highway!")
well maybe the center of the trail was what had been referred.

Yeah and this handwritten doctrine of calamity to be able to hold up and refer to doesn't sort it out right up into the eyes of the law or even the common (and of course very innocent and well behaved!) citizen.  

1. If there's trouble all around, why the hell should you pay to know about it?
2. if I join the alternative thinking society, and I'm booted out (from plenty) in every first 30 seconds or less, and by the sixth time when not even meaning to join or be a part of just actually when asking for a sewing pin and piece of fabric to fix a wingspin on a borrowed hangglider apparatus, does it become too much of a damper to repeated public recourse?
3. I never want to deal with music distributors again. Not personally. Not directly.
It was an entry level horror scene really. Yet I have to deal again, soon, just to have them clear some extreme malpractice scenarios up.  If I am The Devil, as public advertisement campaigns do heroically epitomize, wouldn't I have a much snappier conduction to taking over the airwaves??
4. continuing from 3: my possibilities of legal issues regarding such, and the dire experimental approach when in tougher times, leads to a despondent annoying one would ever even pick a distributor known as magroove to think it would have done any good.
Yet they'd left countless accounts in a particular purgatory state.  I can't not recommend them hardly enough but before risking litigation and such of the harshest verbal burns on history's record, absolutely beyond--well, no it is not slander.  Just with recorded proofs of their carelessness and "lead you on for years about correcting this problem" you still find your content being claimed against you and property rights stolen.
So to music legal representatives I go, hopping along.
With the breath and enthusiasms of music release and project ongoings being effected.
It is a bloodied containment of water with dunce sharks clammering about.

5. There are multiple aliases for multiple projects. 
State identity itself is the least of authentic.
Even symbol or an etching could, and would be better off,
as a representation of one's actions and the performance of living in a body vehicle,
performing things, fighting off dying, promoting living, surviving being thrown away from the public mind and yet adventuring in the metaphoric internal compound without being typecast no matter what you do.
Ultimate freedom is what the _____ fears most, and this is not known until seen upon the look of _____'s face when confronted with that in which one speaks for or idealizes. 
6. I am not legibly autistic enough so as to receive state recognition. so any successes i must donate the credit to someone else's fancy and any failures to uphold the participation of collective civilized code I must be tarnished as irreprehensible and chalk such phrases into a system of nomenclature countless time.

A sparrow

 I'm not reading back to those other posts.  Not at all. There's claim to the moment, ideological parousal, some hints of the most intrepid  satire as through watching the world with a sobered and sane viewfinder.
It's just I can't imagine an entire life from birth to ashes being under the radar gun really of social media sticky tape.
It's more than peer pressure to become a belonger, in that sense. Especially as an extremist belonger, or one that has to stick out or stand out, and then the real merit of authenticity.  While things could be built otherwise. Behind the scenes compositions of bones, blueprints, and all the work nobody really does volunteer for.
No haste to deny making posture and after posture, letting the money reel on in!
Me, I am a celebrity! Take note by my sour attitude and demanding character!

Very much like wrestling unto the heel and babyface roles. It's fun to secretly build a kinder human existence, then run with the jolly of being a heel or to be the ol ever needed enemy.
I think of Aztec Bloodlust and other things. I realize historical timeout deadzones are there where if it's been long enough of a while or if it doesn't gain enough traction of classroom brain manipulation, aka rigors of instillment and indoctrination, then even when historical clause uncovers world event modification, if it isn't advertised loud enough, it isn't true.  The loudest wins. Truth is for hard workers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And so a sparrow has been following as of late. Trying to get into the house windows. Trying to get into my vehicle. 
It knows its reflection. 
I tell it of the troubles in possibility for having known association to me!
but its love or dedication holds strong enough to nevermind such and still,
in instillment or imprint, stick around anyhow.

that's more than a heap or overshot in relation to human counterparts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In music things  I haven't done a thing.
I'm bugging folks with guitar questions. 
Working to upload old galleries and post them up for previous events photojournalism.
But the worth isn't there for a lot of it.   I'm not lying about stuff to increase interest,
or making any of it political or this or that. Grew out of that and honed a responsibility for
personal reality creation or whathaveyou.  Working on the self but silently because uproars are created when projections are leveled out. Projection as in a sort of atomic supplement program, where the 'Cube of Space' as inherited into the meat and bones of the Tarot studies reveals something beyond this whole damned charade of human civilization and existence nodes in concept creation.
Life and death, fear and love, that annoying and joyous momentum of energetic imprint and a "space" between thought where definition itself is re-routable. Until you need to eat, breathe, live, survive and built a project so much the house of the soul can survive.
I am not swayed!
By what people say!
It is what they do!
What they prove!
Talk is talk!
Talk is not even cheap, anymore, however. Even talk is inflated!
Full of air, I mean!
I say that with a kind of love that would be electrocuted by community vote. Unless it wore the right banner and sheath of inner frustration and sufferment externally espoused and absolutely painted as some sort of righteousness bloodlust.
Today's new religion denounces being such!  And the bloodlust is therein as vital, harsh and with sharp fang, as always, under words that sound so sweet and promising!
Make quiet, big changes, I suppose,
If you are serious about soul work,
and silencing the mental chatter,
and the terrifically broken and damaged kinds of personality crisis that is bred into being today.

Physical fitness
Mental Study
Artistic Output
Self acknowledgement of what excuses are no longer useful,
some of the most troublesome and hated theories and actions
to not make a buck or even a dollar
by outputting haste as a collective gathering point.

It is a mass and masses are... biologically,
you tread the path of those who had done it in the past, and made proof.
Talk is talk is talk is talk is talk.
See to make a life of magic a reality,
Miracles,
the suffering masses hate to hear of miracles!
I stood by side unto those who call me devil today,
Why?
So I can laugh later on? Probably.
But views change, honesties still hide so deep within even "truth sayers."

People had to make a trial to become old, first, before knowing it all.
Well we have living experts and sages, especially in the corporate yoga business,
and especially in the humanities, who without a doubt know for sure!
And they'll sure as hell let you know! They let me know,
how I'm the... ummmm, enemy.  They'll starve later on and reality will crack
where life change is required, so it's an interesting timeline as always.
And I just do my own thing, still. I'm trying to pay attention,
to be fair, without sharp teeth potruded and also doing 'tick checks'
out in these forests of information.
When my total soul shows, however, if you do it with heart in this world of charks, sharks,
lepers, ticks, then what room is there for the angels to convene? or the Genius Loci, the Shepards of Good truth, they are found at flea markets or up in trees.
Why are they up in trees?
Well hell, they are trying to get away from it too.

You do it though. Be the one to go out and 'save humanity.'
The business side of it. That's not mud!

 Well anyhow also, and it will be good to haphazardly treat this as if a xanga or livejournal at this point now, meaning there is a merit to post diatribes in the least, I'd come to a real consciousness study goldrush score.  The good thing is that the information is useful. The bad or funny thing is that it is not useful to society or academia or the collective "truth" whatsoever.
Self-adaption and personal accountability to do it "one's own way" in a system created whereupon the pursuit of self-analysis is very upfront about this fact of choice:  It is in the observer that creates checkpoints of who useful teachers are, what useful information is, and what one is to do with a tactical reason to have this way of being and live this life based on meaning.
Actual emancipation of thought is not as tight of a jam of a situation as many are led to believe.
In fact, it is so freeing that it is all likely massively terrifying to those who love to be led. And being led or programmed really is an addiction which is beyond fetish, it is an addiction deeper than the death worship of today's modern adaption of book number 17 entitled Cibilization.
Oh no, Oh no. Oh well.

Learn about the self
Do not become a victim of the Bore
Be aware of salespeople of spirituality of DOGMA, who is restricting you from activating your ultimate goal of perceptual adventure?
What are your safeties and how are they good for you?
What are you safeties that block you and keep you from shattering away from that which stops you from fulfilling your dream?
Are there outdated dreams?
Are there lifelong dreams?

Birds coo outside in the morning.
A sparrow has been visiting frequently and likely even imprinted a local, indoor cat as a mother.
Some do imprint themselves with something as frail as a small screen between their guide and themselves all the while that which they seek answers from seeks to EAT them.

A larger sparrow would have been a better choice for the young sparrow to partner up in lesson-taking. But as you know this reality is often a wild ride if not for the damnation yet again of potholes and shoddy bridgework, yet again it could be, itself, nature's wonders.
Which are not separate at all from potholes and shoddy bridgework, worldwide, even, in this case.

I write this all carelessly as civilization is en kaput, or fallen. The medical casualties of the situation "en gnosis" will just envelope outward, like an electronic plague of sorts. Faith could of saved us and may still, but it is a secret thing, see.  Inquisition is a round trip. This message won't be popular, and hasn't been, isn't now, and there's nothing to gain from saying it!
which is okay.  I just tell you, it would have been a sweet one to collectively explore the stars.
No. It is worship of the flesh and human arguing.
Mind control is real.  Attentiveness toward your own relays the abilities unto others lifelong investments of study, advertising and pursuit to have some kind of effect upon your own.
They don't kill the messenger bird today in this scenario they just call him an asshole, and make it extremely hard for him to have a career as he does not fit at all the diversity requirements, like in some way you could carbon copy me, well then I am not too sure.

Regardless pay attention to the stars you worship!
The idols you mimic!
The money you count!
The gas prices, of course!
And the latest phase, you know,
temporal changes of worldwide tattoo,
permanent alteration unto the account
that it is the spirit or soul which gains the greatest stabilization to develop first,
followed by physiology, and finally the body.
But the body is worshiped foremost, in the inverted world,
that worships flesh and entertainment.

 

It's all a bit too much
and that's the funny part.

I'm burnt out on projects and
there are not many rewards to completing them,
so to convey an inner reason to be satisfied,
for working on, completing, producing thing,
that will need some resurgence if I'm going to make thing again.

I mean, your world is hell and civilization has plunketted. Economics and stabilities are only just catching up to that fact.
Should you sculpt while a flood is ongoing?
You survive first. If you really you cannot, then you start to sculpt. Why?
I'm over my head thinking I provide the answers a lot of the time.
It's good to leave that answer up to you.
Why leave sculptures during a great flood?

and Rocky was one of the last people to demonstrate truly living around
these  parts when the area around here was bound with light.
That JabbyWock, that shop, the Jabbler-Wock,
yeah sure this humor is a padding, I'm sure it can
get the insinuation of an unkind label, let me say,
it keeps a good balance while on the last thread.
Well when Jabberwock left, wonky or not, that place,
yeah there was no breathing room left for the Alive.
Rocky trotted off back home, even. Hitchhiking
then starting a family, I believe.

I'm in the learning it is not a  good time to meet new people.
I had used to want to.

It ain't no good, that game! Oh all the troubles! What I get myself into!

Thankfully I represent no company, there is no refutable heir to divebomb.
The grace here is just a bashful getting in trouble with everyone as by innocent intent.
That's how it works out, for as a mob of each kind letharged and chasing ye. 
I accept that merely in that you open a sliver of reality itself to duck out at that moment,
when everyone all blinks at once.

How do you create that, for all to blink at once?

I'm not answering those questions!
This session of questions is over.
They're written in my head and nowhere else.
No, no, not here to meet people!
Not to be seen!
Just to breathe a bit, get back on track.
The price of weights is increasing and its at 11 bucks more than poundage.
You lift books or whatever.
Those are what are dangerous and worth a weight of lifting,
yes, information. The thicker the book to huck at a fellow, it seems.

So I thought to assist my neuron checkpoints anyhow.
Knots in the back aren't adjustable in this given, I suppose.
I think I know someone  that works at a spa, or did.
What's that have to do with backs?  I need the knots out of mine,
and have to watch mine, too, which is close enough.

I might not be back to doing this stuff. I don't care.
The sails are set, man. I'm off to my island, man.
I don't need this stuff. No more promises of it.
None of those cults are even attractive at all. Idea cults.
I ain't this or that or this or that. I listen in. Donations? yah, ya want money.
I can't contain. Rulesets: Oh, okay, yes you're still the new... Catch22.
 corruption behind the donation collectors.
It's a cult cult cult cult cult, all those friend group infightings,
or the ----  I'll trouble myself right out any of them.
Sex, money, impressions. Ego pumping, nepotism, and attention getting.
Outdoing outdoers...
some grace. Small moments. Just peaceful breaths, hmmm, while civilization
splatters and cracks right on the ground.

Internet's busted, too. Youtube, google.. their life expectancy is  up but nothing much replacing them.
efficiency. Ruleset. Moderation, commodity.

I'm staying healthy. I just had my candy bar.
relationships are terrifying now after those things I'd seen.
Give me a plane ticket and a hiram I guess.  What can I ask for?
I don't respect human beings, but I get curious, about them all,
like, the once that aren't webbed up, you know.  Seems like so many narcs, so many to throw others right down to get some moments of temporary shine.
Is that trouble too? I love love. and personalities, thinkers. 
Yeah read Christopher  S Hyatt and get yourself taking it seriously.
Did that turn out good in the long wrong?
Secretly possibly. In the public system of competitive ultramasking though?
Mix like Paganism and Christianity and ChaosMagic, Tarot, worthwhile nonwoke Cartoons, music that especially you hate, I mean what else? 
Sort of toss those old inspirational psychologist into the wayside after you see what they were really about, and I'm not talking Hyatt, but some of that entry level stuff that still imprinted from maybe late middle school to highschool and a little after. That "edgy" stuff that was political and snide. Couldnt laugh at itself or scare itself to death, to vocally and honestly point out its own errors an say HA! what are you now! and HA! get out of that wet bag of backwards shit!

best people I ever met were simple people.  Werent like me or you or whoever, you know, going around "proving" stuff, having an image and all that.
That's just trickery to every which way, company, music, entertainment, some campaign of human cause... that's bollocks. Plant seeds from by the palms. Wake a day, have a family, get to a task and complete it. Do what you do, never even explain it, be charitable, find the upside to the moment.
Think of doing that on the upper east coast of a dying nation though. I mean dead though, like I said, it's dead already.  Like a wavelength bursts first then the respondent effects match up but by then, what do you want?
I checked out.  "It's nothing to me, man." All the things I do, I'll do off screen. Off record. Off this whole dance of "look at this, and look at that, spare a donation, support a cause, check out this zine, click this link and etc. etc. etc."

Doesn't mean you can't live though, you know. Celebrate life.  Maybe I'm a father even, hell, you don't know that. What do you tell the world behind the whole image thing? Like, never report when you're down, you know. And bend the rubber man, lift up the portrayer.

I mean, hell, here's this photo again, too. Add an artistic description, a metaphor, something? Naw,
see its nothing to you.
Use fear or "cause" or something urgent to hijack some major cause, yeah, thats the point. Commotion. Tension. Stress. Thats the attention point of collective thinking now and I dont want to go that route. of collective manipulation.
I'm stuck in theater or whatever. Archetype, reference, plays, novel, that's the personality thing.
But its based level. Fears, hate, "cause," spot the "problem", pour in money, grossness, the seven deadly sins, this being engulfed in problem think while I want to just, you know, nevermind all that and play with reality. 
All your problem stuff,  causes, the perpetual feedback loop of self fulfilling prophecies that gives this adrenaline rush to  needing foes, and all that kind of thing: victimhood is empowerment and that's the key, if I was gonna tell ya, which I won't. Empathy pathways of the brainwaves,
chalk that up as just something wonky or pretend I'm a stoner or imbalanced or something. Not a prob, whatever anyone thinks! Cos I've seen enough anyhow. Just know that victimhood is empowerment and the salesmXn of these new religions you'll never admit are religions are as much of an "ego trap, maaan" (mXXXXXn) through the variable of anti-ego.
I think it was, again, "You're living in a satire!" 
five years later it's the same commencement ceremony speech. "You're living in a satire!"

Nobody asked, nobody cares, there's no tears there about it, how are you doing, what are you up to, all that kind of thing. I chose this path, even was too nice to people at times, but never certainly intentionally hurting anybody at the same, 
I just do think that collectively, you know, the game probably does have to be reset.
Lots are sold on it too, it shows. DO they really know, for sure though, what it means?
I don't trust the value, you know, oh, some "elite," I kinda think they're dipshits.
the elite. 
Some bunkered down meditation artists you'll never know or meet or see, you know, in places you'll never know or find.. yeah I'd think they're the elites and probably speak languages there's no rosetta stone for.  The whole pay to play nepotism route of elites,  bribery and coercion. (especially in the art world!) they're as much fakers as I am really.
Prolly'll have to light some sort of fire under my own ass though in a way.  Make concept art or whatever. You won't be into it though unless YOU get something from it, and that's okay. 
I want to challenge people to push themselves to limits I suppose, with no excuses as an attractive mannerism.  Do you know how much TROUBLE! that route ensures right now?
You're a death worship society. There's no two ifs and buts about that.
Not you, of course, never you. I just mean... society. 
I study the soul anyway. Everything else has  a copout. Reality is alterable now to the point that the generation on the brink of learning to speak right now has no time to even play as children. You're cramming political shit and stress and reality tension panic attacks down their skulls, and chemical engineering and real screwey-dewey sorts of sociological programming. You're some of the worst parents in human kind but some of you are pretty okay too so good job keep it up, you know? 
"Plastic Peeeoooopple!"  I mean real plastics.  But we'll get that 'reset" one way or another it seems.
it's just, well, you want to really re-incarnate back into this whole thing, you know, and have another go?

 out camping

no I did not break my toes, just severely bruised them.
Will hop again soon.

Boycott Mulnar "Unhinged" Tuna U.S.C.

Mulnar Unhinged Tuna,
how could I have no had any suspicions?  

 one of my wishes would be to not be banned from everything because I just want to bring my art and characters and ideas to the world

the other would have been a healthier upbringing but we birth into what circumstances our own fights to understand can handle.
When it becomes a labyrinth in that way, then consider it an established level.

 Some peace will do yet what world is that?