I've stripped away the sinew and rot of the flesh and released from within my inhibitions, my pigfaced demons. I've torn a hole in my flesh at the sternum and think to myself, as the first claws his way out of my ribs with his jagged teeth and flops onto the ground with a sated plop, they ain't pretty. One has an overbite that hangs below his little piggly snout and the incisors curve into fangs. He has a smile that says, "see ya, homie!" The drone of their wings flapping around me and their squeals ringing in my ears fade and I'm left in a pile of wet bones, all blood and pulp. I try to speak and my mouths renders a flaccid gurgle, a bloody bubble bursting against where my cheek should be but where, instead, my eye is. That eye gets scooped up and swallowed in a gulp by pigfaced demon 1 and he waves and screams vociferously about what I could have been.

"The apocalypse is now! Americans know this, that the only hope is the flying saucers. Do you know how I see the world? Like a person who is dying. It's a worm who is dying to make a butterfly. We must not stop the worm from dying, we must help the worm to die to help the butterfly to be born. We need to dance with death. This world is dying, but very well. We will make a big, big enormous butterfly. You and I will be the first movements in the wings of the butterfly because we are speaking like this."
Alejandro Jodorowsky

i haven't been updating my blog here or on blogspot because i don't have internet at my apartment yet.  apologies, and i'll try to post more when i can.

 

PS - i miss nyc a little

So I just shipped away most of the stuff in my room. Selling/moving furniture wednesday and possibly selling this computer (so no internet access for a while).

I NEED SOMEWHERE TO STAY SATURDAY AND SUNDAY NIGHT!!! Our landlord is making us leave by the 15th but my flight isn't til the 17th.

Then I am in Baltimore for three days for training so anyone in that area who wants to show me cool places to hangout in the evening after my classes or in the afternoon on the 17th when my flight gets in, call me - 321 202 0958

Finally, I will arrive in ORLANDO on the 19th at MIDNIGHT. If you want to have drinks or go to the beach or hangout before I start work at TAMPA on the 24th, I would love to see all my old friends.

Therefore, let us seize the moment and cull the Herb on which the Moon shines brightest. It is a plant which in gross, foul, material Hands might prove the instrument of unlawful power. The evil ones know this and snatch it with their fangs, then commit the prize to their Votaries and behold them rise to the Summit of Ambition, work magical infatuation and cruel delusion - Delusions that mislead and embezzle the noble faculties of the Soul and degrade the Man to the vile Brute or Reptile; fill him with destructive passions; and hurry him to situations to which he will implore the protection of the instigating Fiend and become subject to his power. Such is the influence of the Herb, when given into the power of malignity; but when it is pointed out to those bred in our Schools of Virtue, like Balm it cools the acrid Spirit, the tumultuous desire and the turbulent Lust of lawless Rapine. It is this Lust which enlarges and expands the faculties of Reason and guides the Mind towards the source of all perfection, towards that All Wise before whom my sacred tribe fall and at whose mention their inmost Soul glows with sensations of Love, of gratitude, of awe, too fervent for their mortal frame.

I've been in New York for quite a few months now and it somehow seems like only a few weeks. The people I've met and things I've experienced here have so greatly outweighed whatever struggle it took to get up here. It's strange, though, how transient and shortlived some of the people I've met and friendships I've developed have been (or how brief our encounters). I attribute it both to losing myself a bit up here, that is, thinking irrationally, the the excuse that I'm young, the reasoning of 'my actions cannot affect me negatively insomuch as give me a new experience' - and also to the fact that so many people here are absorbed in their own musings and/or resigned to living a fastpaced/decadent lifestyle without giving slight consideration to the feelings of others. I admit, I've been just as cruel, just as tempted by the visceral and sensory impulses of a child. Often I feel so disconnected from myself when I think about how I've been acting and how many people I may have hurt (or been hurt by). It would be an effortless equation, wouldn't it, to dismiss these selfish actions as attribute to the defense against said 'hurt' BUT for whatever actions committed against the favor of someone I care for (on any level), I feel I'm set back two steps against my self. It's not as easy as all of that. Sometimes I don't really know who I am or what I'm doing here anymore. In any case, it's very easy to write down all this bullshit and expect people to believe you're sorry for whatever you've done to them or that you're changed and a really considerate and honest person BUT it's not the reason I'm writing it which it important so much as the reason I'm thinking it. I'm thinking it because I DON'T want to be that way. If I'm your friend, I'm going to be your friend, affronts of mine and yours aside.

X
P

I decided to bust out the old pencil and pen and do some stupid drawings today. I think this one turned out okay so I'm converting it to vector with lots of color in illustrator. Below is grayscale and pre-vector at high threshold. I'll work on it more and show everyone when it's done.

xo
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let me know what you think so far. is my head too big? haha.

All somber faces and folded hands.. his eyes cross their faces, searching for a glimmer of emotion, some trace of mortality. They seem infallible, resting their eyes against the Sun with little regard for its power, against whom they are bronze Gods in the sunset. Not even in company of death do they crumble or cower, show weakness or fortitude .. only cold resignation.

Or perhaps their fatalistic stares could be attribute of something less divine .. a concoction of repression and fear, brooding and malice. The next to meet the worms could very well be one of the masked ones, the commandeers of despot in their world of grandeur, holding cane against those of their children who fail in rank or class: those felled victims of vice, their debaucheries polluting The Name and the veins (Here lay Son of Victor, Victim of Sin?).

Or: their unblinking faces might indicate only disconsolation, regret: for not knowing him, for not helping him, for not getting help themselves. This latter notion, the reader should know, is highly unlikely and it is furthermore against my wishes to lead you astray to the belief that any of those aforementioned figureheads of good manners and social nuance would show any small intimation of selflessness.

Whatever the reason for their unfeeling and dry-eyed reveries, all here brazened in their stance, they lift not one finger in gratitude to the Son or friend they lay to sleep and shed not one tear in remembrance or remorse.

It should be noted at this point that the he of the first paragraph in this account of a very special funeral is still in fact present and is shortly and effectually making his presence known to both the reader and the story's narrative. Don't forget him as he is at hand in more ways than one.

???

i was very aware last night of a dream i was having. in the dream, i was battling all flavors of sealife - crabs, lobsters, squid - battling them, with my bare hands along several wooded platforms. i was aware of my disadvantage, of the perplexity of this dream and how absurd the notion of its plot was. having no means of self-defense other than batting at their claws and tentacles with my fingers who, in comparison to the blighty bloated barnacles, were limp spaghetti, there naturally came to pass in my mind a great distaste for the progress of my vision.

i became aware of a bleeding sensation from the tips of my digits and made the measured choice of a harlot: to meet with two slender astral beauts for some good times and red wine.

strangely enough, i awoke with scabbed thumbs. these scabs i had not noticed on preparing for sleep.

weird,
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