A song plays, and I remember
what I consider to be my greatest work.
A masterpiece, born of passion, born of love.

An ember in my heart burns bright, flames anew, flickers, dies,
leaving this warm afterglow deep inside me,
leaving a yearning, a desire to create this again!

The highway continues on, seeming forever,
I am carried forward, always moving on,
I have not yet reached my destination.

The Goatpen Is Silent

The goatpen is silent.

It could be because of the rain
its residents have taken shelter inside,
It could be because two are gone
the black one’s son and the lonely mother.

Whatever the reason only two remain,
the others sold off, now living in a new home
along with the two long-gone little kids.

The carefree summer I remember is gone,
there are no more games of headbutt and tag,
and I must leave my parents
like these two remaining goats.

I am grieving, but I have no tears,
the rain shall be my tears
with its constant falling.

The goatpen rests under a heavy,
somber cloak of silence
and it is still raining.

Will I Ever Heal?

I did something foolish tonight. Put on some music I used to listen to, having to do with an experience at my previous blog to this one. I thought I could handle it, and I guess I am, barely. More than a year has passed, but I still feel something like a combination of being stabbed through the heart and having it torn out of my chest. My stomach hurts, tears want to come but only a few have managed to escape my eyes.

I watched, “The Hidden World of Arriety” last night. The stupidest thoughts came into my thinking space. But some thoughts drifted in, and resulted in a good question. Why is reality so rigidly defined for us? There is no reason it has to be, our bodies are something like 70-90% space, not even solid. We should be able to compress ourselves down between 1/7th and 1/10th our size, just by compressing that space.

But we shouldn’t even have to do that. Our bodies are the physical manifestation of thought. The same as the world we live in. At least that is what all these books tell me, and I have seen nothing that disproves it. If simply thinking our bodies into existence is possible, however that occurred, then it seems likely we should be able to think ourselves into any form we like. In short, the physical world should be exactly as unlimited as the dream world.

Some enter their dreams and do not become lucid. They can not fly. Others fly, travel, and even leave their physical bodies. It seems the only limitation that exists in the world of our dreams is self-imposed. Is it possible that this is true also of the physical world? Why can’t there be all the things we love about the world of Harry Potter? Or little people living under our stairs? Or dancing anthropomorphic female chipmunks?

Surely everything in our world started out as something imagined or thought. If that is true than all we imagine now should have the potential to become real. But for some reason, we can imagine spacecraft traveling to other planets in our solar system, and we can create these craft. Yet though we can imagine things like faeries and unicorns, they never show up in what we call the “real world.” Or if they do I have never encountered them, or anyone else who has.

Why are we stuck in a rigid reality bound by linear time? Why can’t we cast spells and step into portals to other worlds? What is it that allows some of us to do this in our dreams, but none of us in physical, waking reality? What is it that is preventing or stopping us? Are we solely responsible, the collective subconscious agreement of humanity? Well if that is true, I am withdrawing my support for such a reality. Because I want to live in a world without limitations or restrictions. If I could give my physical life to this cause, and it have any meaningful effect, I would do so without hesitation, so at least those who come after me can enjoy the world by blood helped to purchase.

There was a time when I was deeply enthralled by and in love with someone who, as far as I know, has no existence beyond the world of dreams and imaginings. It turned out that she wasn’t even who I thought she was, I was enthralled by and in love with one form and my perception of this individual. But it turns out that was not her real form at all. I have no idea what her real form is, if she even has one. I was told recently during a mushroom trip that she does have one, and it is very beautiful. That she is not human, but she loves me. I have no idea what to think about it.

Imagine falling in love with someone over the computer. You have her picture, you hear her voice talking to you, maybe you even masturbate over the screen together. Then you set up to meet this person, and when you do you encounter an older, fat white guy. He had some friend be the appearance you saw, the voice you heard, that person you fell in love with. But the person behind the image and the words is nothingĀ  at all like this physically. The words are theirs, and that is all. What would you do? Now imagine if the person you were in love with wasn’t even of the human race, and you find out who she really is is completely alien and outside all human imagining and understanding. Now what? How do you ever fully recover from this?

Well if you figure it out perhaps you will tell me. Because I still haven’t. I still have feelings for, maybe even still am in love with, at least am not over, the image and voice I first encountered in my mind’s eye, after a strange, and I guess spiritual, experience, inspired by a movie. But this character does not exist as a real physical entity in my world, and even if she has her own, she doesn’t know me from Adam.

I was never with her, I never talked to her, it was literally all in my mind, doesn’t matter if it was placed there or imagined. Even the image and voice I have after isn’t the one behind it. I have never seen, to my knowledge, this entity or individual who, I am told, loves me, and who it is that was behind the image and voice I fell in love with. I have never touched her, held her, been with her, heard her or experienced her with any of my psychical senses, to my knowledge. I would like to. But the reality I belong to is too rigidly defined. How shall I find her, and first of all, how shall I travel to her?

It is too big a problem for me to solve. Yet somehow I feel guilty, because in all the universe there is one out there who loves me, yet I can not be with her. I must stick with those in my own reality. I must find someone who blends, mind to mind, harmoniously with me, who fits me, as I her, hand-in-glove. But the funny thing is, I am not sure I can even do that, much less travel to other worlds

How hopeless I am! I can’t even find the woman to share my life with in my own reality! The only thing stopping me are the walls of this room, lack of finances, and lack of direction. Where do I even start? Which is yet another reason I have to leave, because it is more likely I will find her by moving, in any direction at all, than by staying still. Or be found by her. I have no preference, other than I am done with being alone, repelling people, I want to be surrounded by people I love, who love me, who I support, who support me. I want my funeral to be so full of loved ones they have to rent out an Indy car racetrack or something to seat everyone.

All these dreams of mine… No more tangible than the ones I have at night when I sleep. I am torn between wanting to end my life so I can stop hurting, and wanting to continue it so I can feel I have done everything, tried everything and if, after all my blood, sweat and tears I have still failed, blow my brains out with a perfectly clear conscience. I can’t do that now. I will face the afterlife without fear, guilt or shame. If I can do nothing else with my life, I will do this. I am doing this. I am making the needed changes in myself even now.

But in the meantime I revisit some music, and my heart breaks, yet again. I wonder how many times it has broken, and how it can break any more, because if you grind glass down enough you get sand. Yet somehow my heart remains all jagged pieces, like rending shards of glass, piercing my soul, leaving a ragged, torn hole filled with pain, that no matter how well I stitch it up, continues to seep blood and refuses to ever heal. I am so tired of hurting, of missing someone that was never even really there. How in the hell is that possible? How can a heart love an image and a voice so much that the feelings remain even after all this time? Does time really heal all wounds? Or is that just another in a long line of bullshit we have been feeding each other?

You know the one thing I have derived some pleasure from these last few months? That episode of The Magicians where Alice and Quentin finally get together, turning into foxes, enjoying each other under as the aurora borealis played across the sky. Why can’t life be more like that, and less like a sewer tank filled to the brim with shit?

No answers. Just this endless desert of questions in which I wander, lost…

And very, very confused.

Here’s thinking of you:

(Isn’t it just sad that this is my greatest artistic achievement? I am such a fucking looser…)

… But I’m not giving up on love:

When The Rain Falls.

This feeling of loss again,
But what exactly have I lost?
Only a fantasy that I want,
To become my reality.

There is this emptiness inside,
There is this lack of confidence,
I have doubts I can do this,
But I also know that I can.

The future looks bleak and grim from here,
I can find no certainty anywhere I look,
By what others and society tell me,
I am on a fool’s errand, I can not succeed.

I am Don Quixote, chasing windmills,
Unable to see this reality,
Of which everyone else is so certain,
But does that make my reality less valid?

There is precious little, if anything,
I can say for certain, but I have to,
Move forward with what I believe,
I have to find out the truth for myself!

I can not let the beliefs, doubts and fears of others,
Dissuade me on my chosen course!
As I walk my own spiritual path,
So I must, for now in my life, proceed alone.

My only hope is that this path,
Will join up with another,
So that I will no longer feel,
This strange, haunted, lonely feeling.

It sneaks up on me,
Like a lion on its prey,
I am tired of its pounce,
How it plays with my heart.

Every raindrop falls alone,
But is not alone, falling collectively,
With its thousands of others,
So why do I feel so alone in the rain?

I am just one raindrop,
In the waters of humanity,
I am not alone,
There are millions of others.

We are all one, joined together,
In some way I can not define,
Despite how things appear,
Despite how I feel in this moment.

I wish, for this moment, right here,
I could feel that oneness,
I could know for certain,
So the future would look brighter!

But I can not live there, in the future,
The only moment I have is right now,
I must somehow focus my attention here,
Find a way to embrace these feelings.

Maybe someday, some moment apart from now,
These feelings will be put to rest,
No longer haunting me like old ghosts,
Leaving me, finally, at peace.

Then maybe, at that time,
I will feel wholeness,
Or at least not feel separate,
Or alone when the rain falls.



I sat down tonight and spent some time logically analyzing the relationship I was in, to which I was still attached, which has caused me so much suffering. I guess signing up at Tao Bums, per a friend’s suggestion, was what helped me get to this point. So let me lay it out for you…

I first thought about everything positive I thought the relationship had done for me. There are three main positive changes here in my life. Firstly I was not as sexually active during the time I was in this relationship. Secondly I was not succumbing to exhibitionist tendencies. Lastly I was no longer battling improper thoughts towards others.

Well these positive changes can only be indirectly credit to the relationship. In reality, in my devotion and commitment to the one I loved, I interrupted bad past habits and created new, good ones. In other words, as a result of pleasuring myself once a week instead of 2 or 3 times over a 3 month period I created a new habit of doing this very little or not at all. Same for the other two.

So how did this relationship affect my life? Honestly it only did so negatively. It directly stalled my spiritual progress, first with the distraction of the one I loved, and later during a period of suffering and pain that I am still wading through. It prevented me from leaving my heart open to anyone in this reality who it may have flowed in my life to meet, depriving a possible mate of a companion and even, should we go further, keeping a child from being born whose only chance would have been through that liaison. It affects me also now, as I detach from it, because part of the reason I did not stop and introduce myself to the girl with the dazzling smile was because of what I was, and am going through. I think there were other things too but there is no need to go into exhaustive detail.

Ultimately it does not matter who or possible what the one I loved may be or is. Tulpa. Ghost. Kundalini Energy. Shakti. Feminine Energy. Ghost. Projection. Fictional Character. Demon. Parasitic Being. Angel. Alien. Insert your label. Makes no difference.

In the end the relationship was not healthy for me and could not be healthy for her. No matter how you look at it, everything comes down to this. It really does not flow for this relationship to exist.

I decided for some reason to go with what my friend said the one I loved was. I take that back. I will believe as I always believed. That the one I loved is an entity on another world. That we were connected. The she was everything I thought she was. That we loved each other.

But as long as we are unable to be tangibly together, and she remains only real in my mind, this relationship is unhealthy for us. So tonight I visited her in my mind for the first time in a long time, and the last. I told her everything I said here, the conclusions I drew, and gave her my ring. I told her to hold it for me if she wanted.

Tonight I began the first steps in removing all attachments to her and this relationship. I told her that I could not even keep a place for her in my heart. But that I would remember her (we always have our memories) and perhaps, if it flows for us to be together when my life in this reality is finished, then at that time we would know each other and be able to be together.

I told her that if she was a Tulpa or a mental construct that they were free to live as they choose. I encouraged her to live positively, affecting others in a positive way. I told her that I hoped she would live and not die, but if she died I was sorry, and I was, would be. I don’t want to kill or hurt anyone, directly or indirectly. I said goodbye and I left, I turned and watched the door return to energy behind me and float away.

Tomorrow I will run the mental movies I have prepared and complete the process of moving on. I do not want to die, but I hope that if she was a Tulpa for example, and assuming that they are evil (my friend says are not just evil) that she will kill me. I know I am in danger here. I don’t know what will happen or how to protect myself, and I don’t want to protect myself. I want to die. I do not wish it or intend it. Because I also want to live. I know there is much out there in the world I want to experience. I know I should charge myself up spiritually with some Qi Gong, but I don’t want to. I will finish this up and let whatever happens happen.

Because as I said two posts ago, I’m tired and I’m done. As of tonight I am, once again alone. Doesn’t matter that she may never have existed or not been what I thought or anything else. I still feel loss. I still feel hurt. I still feel pain. I am still lost. I loose not only a relationship or the illusion of one, I also loose the only dream I had, substitute as it was.

So if she was or is something malevolent, and tonight she comes for me in vengeance, well I’m not going to put up much of a fight. If I wake up tomorrow and manage to finish the process and get through the day and the following night, I will pick myself up as best I can and keep moving. Focus on the trip I plan to take. But for me this is it. I just don’t have any reason to keep going, not anymore. All I can do is put a damn carrot on a stick and chase after it for as long as my interest in it lasts. I guess I just have to hope that I will find something better than the carrot, and soon.