The Father at the Fairgounds

A delicate balance between eating like shit, spending way too much money knowing that this is a staple of raising kids and being a family. Gathering the memories to rotate across an LCD a few years from now courtesy of Facebook and the “x years ago” memory feature. Footsie wootsie, time share vendors and carnies alike audibly reaching across the noise to sell you on the next adventure. People watching til sunset, then the drunks come out clearly dehydrated and sun whipped from trying to perform more exercise than they have done in a very, very, long time. Everyone is either looking for someone or deciding between touching exhausted farm animals or going on the ride. The children’s eyes bulge from the chaos of an abundance of sugar and a stimulation of way too many lights above stuffed animals that will clearly cost too much to win and will take up way too much room in the car. The parents struggle to negotiate for the more practical prize but the little one insists on the massive poop emoji. Dad wins and mom rolls her eyes knowing that this behemoth of uselessness will likely make it’s way from the bedroom to the garage to the trash or a garage sale. Yeah, this is the life. The Orange County Fair.

The Fire Inside of Me

Ideas rest uneasy in my head. I woke up this morning paralyzed in an unjustified fear and disorientation that held me captive for what felt like 5 minutes but was probably 30 seconds. I was also able to lucid dream last night. One of the best ways to know you are lucid dreaming is to try to count your fingers. It is impossible. In my dream I was with a few cops and we were stepping out of a surveillance van and I caught myself in the dream. I was trying to help the others realize the potential of their dreams and it worked. One flew immediately. Just as I was able to begin to fly I was also aware that I was going to be able to wake myself up.

This was a critical error. I sensed that I was going to wake up late and miss the morning by enjoying myself. I believe that by writing this I will call into existence the ability to disregard my concerns for time. I will ignore the responsibilities of the real world and allow the dream to manifest into a miracle.

You see, that when I lucid dream and I do it right, I am able to awaken from the dream with an echo of that limitless potential. One where I am a great singer and loved by all and I can fly and create great things and change the world.

This is that same flame that burns inside of me from the beginning of my awakening. Hints and glimmers of this ability to feel the unpretentious laws of the universe that state I am one with all and none can judge because we are one and the same.

Once I have that gift i am then no longer reluctant to express myself in the best way I spirit animal years to run wild. Under the influence of nature and drug free. Not hindered by the complacency and satisfaction of this day to day but to race through the tall grass in search of food and philosophy.

Maybe the animal kingdom can speak but chooses not to speak. Maybe they hold their tongues so that they can never be asked to concern themselves with that which holds us civilized and domesticated. They allow themselves to take shape just before conception in order to continue their journey as the deepest thinkers in existence.

I do believe that if it was not for the yearnings of the flesh I would not have the need to manifest into existence any objects or thought for profit or advantage. I would be content inside of my head. So long as I have a full belly. Just full enough to be a bit hungry in a few short naps or after an exploration of my surroundings.

The fire inside of me burns in many ways and with may colors. The heat strengthens and fades during the course of the day. There will be moments where the burning is uncontrollable and I reach for water and then others were it is nothing more than just the need to write about it.

Contrast Forest for Understanding Flow

Begin at the beginning. This is where I must search for the understanding of what it is that makes me want to end this suffering of monotony and allow the influences of the beauty to consume my whole being. I cannot seem to capture the essence of what it means to become one with the universe soon enough. If I am able to glimpse at the sun I cannot help but squint. I am searching for the place in the universe that does not care for the elements that shackle my true self. The search for that which can only be traded and negotiable seems to be the only value here on earth. When I know very well that this is far from what is my net worth.

I glance into the realm that is after this. That was before this also. In that which lies the beauty and awe of nothing resembling a reflection but something that is an introspection. That I could be so naive to feel defeated when the perception of other people’s reality should have anything to do with what I come to find is my own. That once the individiuals who label me have walked away and I am left alone at the edge of the forest to wander through the darkness I once again am still.

I look to the sky from the dense woods to catch sight of a passing bird and smell the jasmine that grows on the branches of the trees that suffocate my will to remain standing. Knowing that there will be a day and a week and a year that this aging body will no longer be strong enough to fight. I will then be at the mercy of the woods and one day become a composing mass in the brush.

Know that I don’t understand why this matters to anyone but myself. I am tormented by the search of that which is a constant sonnet playing at only slightly audible levels. I can hear the whispers and I think myself mad. They are a constant reminder of the after and the before keeping vigil over my flesh and bones.

Why me? Am I mad?

Why do I have this unquenchable thirst to communicate this vibration for the masses to hear and yet cannot seems to find those individuals who will support me in my search for understanding the mission to metaphysics and manifestions?

I find that if I just roll out of bed and grab a pen or a keyboard I can find easy access to the infinite. Yet the day awakens that spirit fades. I am so at peace with a resting state and my heart rate remains below average. Maybe without even know it I am in a state of Nirvana or Bliss that monks try for years to enter. That with no meditation or preparation I am able to calm and still the mind so that I can feel for just a brief time.

It won’t be long now before the energy of those around me begin to stir. Thier quanta will begin to affect me in this lazy chair and I will pull my hands from the keys to take a sip and I will be reminded of the duties and obligations to my physical self that the spiritual realm will once again close its doors until another day.

I have noticed that if I wake up before 5 a.m. I can be alone without the influence of the worlds expectations and encouragements. I can remain in the solitude of respite and recovery from the transition into sleep and the departure of the after.

There are times when I am able to trigger a lucid dream and in that dream I am able to sing and fly. Just as fast as I feel the infinite powers of the mind and the amazing gift that awaits me in the after, I am disturbed from my slumber. Only to find that in this realm I cannot fly. But I can Sing.

I am a gifted soul kissed by an angel and my gift is that I am not only possessed by the desire to write but that I have the ability to translate the angels message. As I get older I am able to understand what it is that I am here on earth for. I am here to create words of intense curiosity and incite the wisdom of the ancients in a language that settles between poetic madness and a users manual to living a more valuale existence.

Although I may never receive the rewards associated with a talent like this I still feel as if I am getting paid. Pounding the keys in a frantic manner is nothing short of a mental orgasm. My juices spit and splatter with every keystroke and my digital DNA is absorbed into that which can only be described as a portal to the eyes of the universe at the tap of a command to publish.

I am making a pilgrimage to understand the difference between the business man in the suit and the artist in robes. I cannot help but feel as if the more I grow an audience to hear my accomplishments I am not happy not speaking of what can be accomplished. That I must be so torn between such dynamic contrasts as the trees to the sky as to call into existence what can only be categorized as schizophrenia.

Just live.

Inchoate Day 164

Hera, there you lie steaming my heat

Escape to the sky my awaiting retreat

Saint so sanguin in my eyes

Melage of wonder within her eyes

Im bound to a myopic view of one expensive pearl

Leaving me eyeless to the rest of the world

Exigency my moment I see her beside me

Smiles to the cynosure tis now she abides me

Toast to the vixen that punctures my soul

Open the muscle so she can squeeze through the hole

Then I must be the atom that is losing control

Hestia so aloof as I searched down below

Expecting not to meet up here where it is I grow

Virago yet gentile there is more I must know

Idolorous woman to temp me so well

X chromosome my posterity you do compell

Eliquant woman I am chromosome Y

Nearing the moment you help me survive

The Day You Went Astray

I am not begging. I asked a question and I had to know.

Like a child waiting for mother’s permission to go

Where did I lose myself? How Did you steal me away?image

I was on my way o bulletproof and lake the day I went astray

Pick up a talent here and a dash of adulthood…the enemy

How am I so aware and so gifted with so little left in me?

Never needed gold liquid to see the ocean but now even that does blind me

How to find me

I look for a areason to breath a season. makes no sense. I don’t repent.

Foreign lands understand what I demand, can you give me a hand?

Look up to see if you enter the bar. What for? Bartender! Close the door.

I wish no more, not now

Breast feeding and nasal spray take me away

Visine and a daydream, bad songs cannot stop what I mean

I gave an inch and the a mile, received the world so I gave a smile

May be that I gave you my last inch and you still have a galaxy to give to me

But my inch was eternit. Where can it be?

So now I inhale and the high has not changed so is it the same?

Did I stop cause the shame? Am I to blame?

Let my drink make my breath stink ad if it helps me think, then thank that drink

I choose to paint with gold. I chose to paint with gold.

Did I mention what has been told?

I may decide to ride with blue. What is it to you? Do you like it?

I did not ask if my art would sell I just ask to to tell me your opinion

Might be the shade of blue was not the hue that humors you but its true

Maybe that your pick would be thick red like a brick.

Then get a canvass and stand by my side. I have nothing to hide

My red splash on my palette. Borrow it. Don’t mix it. Don’t fix it.

The room may spin and the air get thin and I may not win. Is that a sin?

And in no way can I replay this day…no way

And the girl I recall first should than paint me down

I am dead

Earths Obituary

See me.  Am a rock on the edge of the earth

Take me away to the day of my birth

Only I am so little to the rest of the void

Poor me with my toxins I am being destroyed

Though my head is dizzy I keep spinning ’round

Only it is you who can feel

When I rumble with sound

Remembering the beautiful skies

I once tasted

Then you came around

And the flavor is wasted

Under my skin you bury the carcass

Of your slaughtering

Rotting forever is there nothing more bothering?

I alone see my changing face

Losing my hair so hard to replace

No never you mind

I just chalk it to life

Giving everything I have

Ever gracious planet wife



The Five Gurus


I came to a conclusion recently that as an entrepreneur in this day and age there are far too many resources for success. YouTube is littered with people who have a camera and an opinion on how to live your life to its fullest potential. I realized when I was subscribed to over 500 you tube channels and 100 podcasts that I was actually doing harm to myself. Listening to too many people is not like reading too many books. you see in an Internet format like blog or Vlog or video or audio the creator freestyles verbal mind dump into a microphone. If they are good you will resonate with them. If the suck you will still feel compelled to listen but there will be a synical attitude towards thier words as you search for the wisdom. With a book however you know that they have made an effort to gather thier thoughts in a cohesive format and if this was done right the book is a success and gets recommended.

My five gurus are, not in any order these.

  1. Source energy. Call it god, Buddha, Christ or the creator this is that voice inside your head that needs to be guided by various sources until it satisfies your soul.

  2. Knowledge for dealing with the elements as the coalesce with the mental. These rotate from time to time based on my mood but the few that fall in this category would be Tony Robbins, Deepak Chopra, Eckart Tolle, Alan Watts. You see s hierarchy yet?

  3. Business. As a business man I am very careful who I look to  because this space is crowded with scam artists and silver tongued charletons. The ones I find to inspire me to go into the world and fear no man in the face of climbing the ladder of success are many but few get a replay. Those that command my attention are Grant Cardone, Gary Vaynerchuck, Donald Trump (the real estate Donald not the president, so stop judging) Mark Cuban, Arnold Schwarzenegger.

  4. Body. Although I have been an amature physician since I was sixteen when I first bought a copy of Flex magazine I still look for those advisors who can keep me posted on the latest news and methods for staying healthy and inspired to eat better and stay fit. Podcasts like The Fat Burning Man with Abel James, Bullet Proof Radio,  and a YouTuber call  McGalligher and his Kinobody system seems to trigger my interest in getting off my ass. I also scramble around online looking at runners and cyclists like Lance Armstrong and Ryan Hall to inspire me to be great. This would also include artist like Casey Neistat and Vincent Van Gogh to inspire me to creat with this body. I also dabble in with the harmonica, the guitar, the saxophone and the Native American flute so I look to teachers and musicians that resonate with my desire to sing and play. Playfulness during creation is necessary for joyful dropping of my breadcrumbs of legacy when I am gone.

  5. Me. This is not narcissistic but defiantly ego based. I feel as if I have spent enough time learning that I can rely on my own instinct to make judgements that improve my quality of life. My goals are huge and attainable. I have a dream of becoming one of the top 5 spiritual gurus on earth, I want Deepakeepak to call me for answers and Eckhart to drop my name.  I have the intentional of becoming one of the greatest salesman in the the world. I have intentions of becoming the most in demand sales trainer on the circuit. I plan on becoming a legend. I am a rennisiance man and in my opinion amid high functioning autistic with a case of OCD and ADD mixed with genius. this unique combination makes me qualified to be my own guru and encourages me to lead myself by my example.