So lately I’ve been trying to become a better person, pursuing
more spiritual rites of satisfaction. I’ve taken up my old mantle of a
Transcendentalist Buddhist with so much more behind it. I’ve really
tried to distance myself from negative personalities and tried to
embrace people a lot more. I’ve started to stand my ground a lot more
when it comes to how I express myself; nobody is getting between me and
my will to create something tangible.
I realize I’ve hurt a lot of people over my time here on earth and
would like to thoroughly apologize to those that truly didn’t deserve
anything of that sort. With all these long walks in the silent forest,
it’s hard not to notice something larger at work. In those walks I’ve
re-confronted and re-assessed my views of reincarnation and the cycle
of Samsara and I’ve come to terms with who I am as a person again,
finally comfortable in my own skin.
I’ve started to realize that the days are too beautiful to waste
locked away in front of a screen most of the time and made it my
mission to spend a vast amount of time with the rocks and roots that
hold me while I cloud watch. It’s a beautiful world; I might as well
make the best of it. I can already feel so much weight lifting off me,
like some anvil has been lifted from my arms. Everything and everyone
has become so much brighter, no shades of gray blotting out faces, no
static voices blocking out what people are saying.
There’s a citrus mist on every smile I see now, a sweet note to
every word and I can’t help but see your silver lining. Though there
are a few people I’ll probably have to leave behind in this, people
that are immature and self-centered that can’t help but bring me down.
These people constantly try to make me feel below them and I won’t have
it anymore. These people were supposed to be my closest friends but
instead they suppress and oppress what I have to say and what I have
willed into existence. I’m in search of heavier sounds from amplifiers,
not some torpid tripe from a car commercial. I need atmosphere to
breathe; you can’t convert melody to oxygen. At this point I’ve got
something much larger to create, a grander vision of stories to tell,
of voices to let slip over drenched violence and percussive blasts of
oaky strength.
I am Jerrod Preston
and I love you