thread>image (the elixir)////going down the road feeling bad

so this is a little something to inform the last half of this story. there is so much to it, that my nervous abdomen hasnt stuttered like this since fucking 

well lynn did her thing and left my brother and i a house in tucson. after about a year i was able to sell it. a few trips out, mostly solo. driving long distances in unmarked  areas will give you time to float. so that time will probably be wiped out of the memory box. 

i woke up and refreshed myself on some joseph campbells work this morning. a muddy constellation of who has been what along my journey. did he have to use the word hero? any way i digress, i got the house sold, her estate 'wrapped' up and cleaned out the house that long ago i was never to set foot in. the similarities in seeing the way lynn and her parents lived next to my grandmother teresa.....that was a a bit of a jolt. probably as much as smelling, seeing and knowing my moms blood and body was spread all over the walls and the surfaces of the items i had to touch and be responsible for...again...way too fucked up for me to even.....blahhhhh

for the nectar: if lynne couldnt offer proximal motherly love and strength, then 100k plus worth of capital at age 30 can be the love that will get me through.,.and, oh did she know i would need it.

fuck maybe i even earned it...

it's a choose your own adventure style thing, paint your own reality. not me, you

so yeah, i got paid, but if you think shit storms dont follow and grow in multitude of zeros and their increasing number then youve never been there.

gain one lose one, take one leave one. pull one thread and your whole world might come settled down. brown eyes women and red grenadine.

so yes, things go ary, mostly within my family unit. words like greed, selfish, angry, righteous begin to find common use. sure i am guilty, but you have to believe that my intentions are and were well. i do my best as you know dear reader to always come to and from things with love...does it work? am i writing in a invisible blog on the internet? yep.

i guess i should update you on other matters too, teresa is 87 these days... she lives alone with another roomate who loves to watch tv and eat fast food. his name is jim.  i always imagined her aging into a sweet little lady, but oh my has the opposite taken place. her favorite move these days is to become angry over some understanding and then call her friends  on speaker phone talking about how big of a jerk i am...and if i dare start out the day quiet or within the confines of myself, that is the biggest offense " well there is zero communication these days" thanks terrie! she can find someone else to cook, clean, grow food for and maintain the yard. for free.

my father gregg is 67 and lives in south lake tahoe with his girlfriend who fucks other guys to get what my dad is ill equipped to be able to provide...and i dont even think its the physical part. emotional support is like an unending orgasm, and when you get a taste of it....i dont blame her.

should i have just said that? probably not but its kind of a great over arching picture of who he is.....

plus this is an invisible blog on this internet.

squeak my cat of 15 plus years also went to other realms around these days. i dont remember the day but i remember everything that happened on that date. oh kitty, you were and are still so helpful. <3 div="" nbsp="">

anthony my brother is now living in new york facilitating his girlfriends dreams. i have no clue what to even say about any of that other than cool. he is around 3 years older than me and means a lot to me. he means so much to me that the ways i try to show him how much i appreciate him and love him make him feel the opposite. hmmm.... i come from the action camp....i like to show my appreciation. rarely do i voice my gratitude. allegedly. i cant help but juxtapose that to the frantically excited youth that was told to calm down all the time. the term big brother is foreboding and imposing for a reason. there is a lot of ego to maintain. 

again, im drifting and my lucid point about what has happened since my mom died could be summed up like this

i took place in an ego death ceremony with psylocibin around june of 2017

i found peace and understanding within my mothers absence and why it was the way it was

love, compassion and empathy are the elixir of this journey we are all on

love for those who have hurt you

understanding for those who refuse to understand you

compassion for those changing their locks

empathy for those who turn to drown their sorrows.

this whole post was curated by a 3 am text message from my grandmother telling me i am not welcome at her home anymore. likely pursued by my dad who is generally threatened by my actions and projects heavily on to me what he sees in himself. the ole if ya spot it, ya got it. 

he in threatened because he has spent his whole life living in his own shadow. he was the product of shame and misinformation as you would call it today. his father denied him and his mother fled from him. he has been burning that cross ever since, reliving the same loop of abandonment and betrayal, and it has peppered his whole life, and will continue to as long as he dedicates a portion of his heart to that quest. understanding. make space for love and it will fill what you create.

my brother is the mirror image. he is increasingly drinking and becoming alcohols biggest advocates and soon to be important purveyor of. the lifestyle, the tma, just wait world, we're drinking mai thais while this bitch burns. trying to be seen as an equal has been the undoing for our relationship. i essentially no longer function as the little brother as i refuse to go back to that life. the above might give you and a reason and a cheering not to. so yeah, he needs a dog, the best thing for the person who has the world already figured out while drowning the mystery. yesterday the grateful dead caused one of our biggest and likely final blow outs to date. the three of us, roaring at each other. telling ourselves we want to get along.

its time to look at this with real, tiger eyes.

goodnight and good bye

thanks for reading 

if i ever.

im here.

just now..
but a little late...
finding some semblance of calm...
a deciphered goal but less question based.
you know


https://madafact.tumblr.com/

gore

as the weight of the situation comes to settle, my emotions begin searching for anything to connect something to.

my mother, 63 just recently, a product of hate and malice, one only experiences through a germanic tongue. denial, abuse, chaos
she was a gift from the turmoil, or a gift to the turmoil

i still cant tell.

after being abused as a child in a myriad of ways, she found alcohol, drugs and release. sad thing is 12 is not the age to be seeking such comforts.

fast forward the sadness and she is living with a boyfriend, who in the long run decides to blow his brains out in front of her, painting her in brain fragment and even more misery the likes of which most of us will never know...
maybe she pulled the trigger, who knows, another deposit for the drug booze bank and trust. and the children in her future.

along comes my dad, wet behind the ears, and chasing delusion. a willing candidate to be shown the dark side.

life seems to take a pleasant break from the brain fragments, vomit routine, and hung over guarantees.
a child comes along named anthony, innocent and capable as we all begin.

yet with one gift comes another,

the abuse lynne faced as a child became the story to which anthony would begin his life narration.

tender moments between wooden spoon beatings and slurred incoherent parenting advice. the mind of an infant will always remember what you said, or what you caused to feel

3 years of what i dont know....because here comes the nail in the coffin

the second child, this one a less planned, 'more gifted' surprise....me....

the product of a deadly womb, a steady diet of cocaine, negative thoughts, and alcohol poisoning.
maybe she was already down the tunnel of post partum depression, but something in the world changed when i came along..

i was simply the oil on the slope, or the wind that took away balance.

after emerging from essentially attempted murder i began my diagnosis of just what the fuck i had no choice in entering...

ugh, do we have to go through this again, wasnt the first time enough?? 'FUCK I WANT TO SLEEP, CHILD STOP CRYING BE LIKE YOUR BROTHER AND HERE IS SOME VODKA MILK THAT YOUR DAD DOESNT KNOW ABOUT'

i was in her care for merely 9 months before the walls of realization came crashing down around my father....his partner, his spouse, the mother to his 2 NEW children is more than unfit for duty, she threatens the very existence of the whole family...

i do remember a day in preschool, wondering why i was the only one left waiting for my parent. then swerving up the hill comes my dads car driven by my mom four sheets to the wind, nearly crashing into other cars. gleefully ready to pick up her incredible gift of a son.

i remember the look of horror on my teachers faces as they let me get into the car with my mother, barely coherent, slightly operating and very much behind the wheel. a couple of them decided to follow us home, maybe they wanted to see a drunk driver create a mess... somehow we made it.

or the time i dont remember, stuck in my high chair, screaming for hours, probably sitting in my own shit, hungry and possibly wanting out of this fucked arrangement. family to the rescue, anthony calls grandma who hears me wailing in the background, and tells her that 'mom is asleep on the floor and wont wake up'

my grandmother was trying to explain to my dad for years that this woman was not diabetic, she was a professional alcoholic.

the rest of my life is a series or reactions to the situation that was unfolding in front of my adolescent eyes.. the memories i would swallow and never allow to return, the feelings of hatred of self that would categorize all of my relationships, all of my experiences, and any future, i was 'given'

my youth years were spent exploring the feelings of anger and rage that were so readily available to me in endless supply.
sure i had good moments, but those always were a result of someone elses mis- fortune, or my own.
it feels good to watch the self that you hate, struggle, and never escape the cage it was grown in.

i was raised in alcoholics anonymous, my single grandmother, who pregnant at 20 after first time having sex, was as much as she could provide. it could be said, my grandmothers whole life was a balancing act to block out the actions of lynne. she did a good job

fast forward to mid twenties. i need to meet her, this engimatic figure who controls my life through no choice of my own...i wanted to live, i wanted to love, i wanted to be free.

long story short, i go to tucson, shes in the hospital with her mother and thats the scene to which i reunite with my biological mom, just like two friends who hadnt seen each other for a few years, ready to pick up with the small talk.


yet, decades of killing your memories, does not serve those which you may WANT to create. my mothers brain was an open window of information. you're doing what? you love whom? you've been where? stories ceased to have finality due to the guarantee that they would be news the next day.

this was the second time i lost my mom. my idealist young libertine mind did not want to accept that after all this struggle the answer was simply, 'theres nothing here for you'

sooo fast forward to recent times. once again, the restless feeling of, 'i need my mom to be something to me more than just a mistake' re-emerges and i begin to throw around ideas of a second unannounced, unplanned visit to her door step.


but the world always provides what you need when you need it.


a couple weeks back after going through the anguish of realizing my family is in no mind to allow me to help them, i am contemplating suicide. absolutely lining up my pills, writing my notes, and listening to other stories of people who had the bravery i so craved. at one point i experienced the warrior's fearlessness and managed to swallow 18 muscle relaxers, only my heart, and stomach had other plans.
i threw them up into my toilet, dizzy, fucked up from the pills and pretty pissed off that i would have to live another day

i cried myself to sleep curled up in front of the toilet, vomit and pharmaceutical residue all over me. no one home to find me, and putting every ounce of thought i had to eternal sleep.

but i woke up,

i didnt only wake up, something inside of me had lifted. at the time i couldnt experience it, as i was pretty hazy for 4-5 days after my suicide attempt. but things were different.

close friends of mine offered a chance to get outside of myself by going on an ego death trip.
basically eating enough mushrooms so that your brain MUST rebuild it's perception of who you are based on who you are. no pretenses, no self deprecating labels, ONLY who i am, the love, the light, the laughter.

during this trip i went to places i cant explain, even a prolonged experience of psychotic loop, keeping me caught in a never ending loop of bad memories, and pain...essentially unable to escape.
this was my glimpse into my brain, not my soul. and i promised myself, if i make it out of this, i will help those who are stuck here.

upon returning to reality, i was showered with a strange understanding. my mother's spirit was no longer with me, she was dead, and upon returning to my friends through sobbing eyes, and stuttered speech i said 'my mom is dead'

i couldnt explain it, but on august 17th i was proven to be aware of something which i hadnt been able to put stock into experiencing.

my mother came to me, and apologized for everything she couldnt keep from happening. and the details of her passing have solidified this for me



NOW FOR THE PART YOU MAY NOT WANT TO READ:

i received a message on facebook from a distant cousin mentioning that my uncle wanted to speak with me......this could only mean one thing, and that premonition i had nearly floored me, causing me to look for the closest seat, or soft place to collapse.

i spoke with maureen, the wife of my uncle and she explained to me what had occurred.

steven got a phone call from a neighbor saying that lynne had not been seen in some time..
naturally he went over to the house and was gifted the most unforgettable, terrible, no one should ever experience this moment. his sister, my mom was laying on the kitchen floor after about 5-6 weeks in the tucson heat, her body had been mutilated by the two cats she owned. other animals had forced entry into the house and also joined the feast.

millions of flies began to reside in the house, slowly spreading my mothers biomass all over the walls. the smell of the place must have been nearly deadly.

seeing the decomposed corpse of your sister, minus what nature felt it was owed. i can not imagine.

vodka bottles inhabited every corner of the house, and the mess took on many different moods...the feeling of death almost had it's own set of feelings.

here is the back story to which i can create to my own liking

my mothers mom, jessie was quite nearly a spawn of satan. through speaking with distant, and close family members, she did everything she could to cultivate spite, sadness and anger among herself and those forced to be close to her.

jessie did not want my brother or i to have ANYTHING, not a penny, it was my fathers fault we left, and her daughter could do nothing so horrible as to leave her children due to addiction.

so heres how i need to see this...

my mother did EVERYTHING she could to outlive her mother. jessie passed in january from bleeding to death....yeah you read that right, she bled to death, not internally, but out through her body...
the evil finally drained out of her, and ended her awful reign on this earth over those who she created


my mother knew she must pay for what she had done, and i can not think of a more punishing way to die.

as i am writing this tears are streaming down my face. tears of sadness, and regret, tears of joy and elation. my mother did her best, and was only a product of a bad equation.

she never wanted to hurt anyone, but was shown no other lense through which life could/should be lived.

she left me a house in tucson, granted an energetically soaked house, but an asset i suppose.

thank you lynn, im sorry we never had a true relationship and i hope to anything that you can live again in a less painful manner. your life had value and your struggles will not go in vain. rest in peace, because i already know you're resting in pieces.

fitting like a nice tailored sweater

today i was contacted to be made aware my mother died.

she left when i was a wee lad and chose to drink her way to the grave

gnarly thing is, she made it like 65 years or something like that,

i guess i come from hectic genes which crave abuse

anyway, i knew she died....i already had a premonition

call it what you want but in the depths of a psilocybin trip

i knew she was dead, i dont remember if she came to me

or what

but the first thing upon re-entering reality, i said, "mom my is dead"

more skills to add to the what the fuck list..



so here i am. this silly blog has been a vomiting grounds for me

essentially from her absence....

and truly, i dont know if i care.

she made her choice, it just had consequences for more than her.

thanks lynn, you were a tornado of a person, leaving no stone unturned,

no heart left with a scent of malice,

im sure you never wanted any of this

but thanks for the gift of life, and your thorough lesson on staying put.

NOT FOR READING

TO THE PEOPLE WHO READ THIS SHIT AND WANT TO KNOW WHO I AM

AS IF MY WRITING COULD NOT TELL YOU WHAT I WANT YOU TO KNOW

READ THIS


The Advocate personality type is very rare, making up less than one percent of the population, but they nonetheless leave their mark on the world. As members of the Diplomat Role group, Advocates have an inborn sense of idealism and morality, but what sets them apart is that they are not idle dreamers, but people capable of taking concrete steps to realize their goals and make a lasting positive impact.

Advocates indeed share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. They are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain – Advocates will act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity not to create advantage, but to create balance. Egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to Advocates, and they tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.

Advocates find it easy to make connections with others, and have a talent for warm, sensitive language, speaking in human terms, rather than with pure logic and fact. It makes sense that their friends and colleagues will come to think of them as quiet Extraverted types, but they would all do well to remember that Advocates need time alone to decompress and recharge, and to not become too alarmed when they suddenly withdraw. Advocates take great care of other’s feelings, and they expect the favor to be returned – sometimes that means giving them the space they need for a few days.

Really though, it is most important for Advocates to remember to take care of themselves. The passion of their convictions is perfectly capable of carrying them past their breaking point and if their zeal gets out of hand, they can find themselves exhausted, unhealthy and stressed. This becomes especially apparent when Advocates find themselves up against conflict and criticism – their sensitivity forces them to do everything they can to evade these seemingly personal attacks, but when the circumstances are unavoidable, they can fight back in highly irrational, unhelpful ways.

To Advocates, the world is a place full of inequity – but it doesn’t have to be. No other personality type is better suited to create a movement to right a wrong, no matter how big or small. Advocates just need to remember that while they’re busy taking care of the world, they need to take care of themselves, too.

• Creative – Combining a vivid imagination with a strong sense of compassion, Advocates use their creativity to resolve not technical challenges, but human ones. People with the Advocate personality type enjoy finding the perfect solution for someone they care about, and this strength makes them excellent counselors and advisors.
• Insightful – Seeing through dishonesty and disingenuous motives, Advocates step past manipulation and sales tactics and into a more honest discussion. Advocates see how people and events are connected, and are able to use that insight to get to the heart of the matter.
• Inspiring and Convincing – Speaking in human terms, not technical, Advocates have a fluid, inspirational writing style that appeals to the inner idealist in their audience. Advocates can even be astonishingly good orators, speaking with warmth and passion, if they are proud of what they are speaking for.
• Decisive – Their creativity, insight and inspiration are able to have a real impact on the world, as Advocates are able to follow through on their ideas with conviction, willpower, and the planning necessary to see complex projects through to the end. Advocates don’t just see the way things ought to be, they act on those insights.
• Determined and Passionate – When Advocates come to believe that something is important, they pursue that goal with a conviction and energy that can catch even their friends and loved ones off guard. Advocates will rock the boat if they have to, something not everyone likes to see, but their passion for their chosen cause is an inseparable part of their personality.
• Altruistic – These strengths are used for good. Advocates have strong beliefs and take the actions that they do not because they are trying to advance themselves, but because they are trying to advance an idea that they truly believe will make the world a better place.

When it comes to romantic relationships, Advocates take the process of finding a partner seriously. Not ones for casual encounters, people with the Advocate personality type instead look for depth and meaning in their relationships. Advocates will take the time necessary to find someone they truly connect with – once they’ve found that someone, their relationships will reach a level of depth and sincerity that most people can only dream of.

Getting to that point can sometimes be a challenge for potential partners, especially if they are the impatient type, as Advocates are often perfectionistic and picky. People with this personality type aren’t easily talked into something they don’t want, and if someone doesn’t pick up on that, it’s a trespass that is unlikely to be forgiven, particularly in the early stages of dating. Even worse is if a suitor tries to resort to manipulation or lying, as Advocates will see right through it, and if there’s anything they have a poor tolerance for in a relationship, it is inauthenticity.

Advocates will go out of their way to seek out people who share their desire for authenticity, and out of their way to avoid those who don’t, especially when looking for a partner. All that being said, Advocates often have the advantage of desirability – they are warm, friendly, caring and insightful, seeing past facades and the obvious to understand others’ thoughts and emotions.

Advocates are enthusiastic in their relationships, and there is a sense of wisdom behind their spontaneity, allowing them to pleasantly surprise their partners again and again. Advocates aren’t afraid to show their love, and they feel it unconditionally, creating a depth to the relationship that can hardly be described in conventional terms. Relationships with Advocates are not for the uncommitted or the shallow.

When it comes to intimacy, Advocates look for a connection that goes beyond the physical, embracing the emotional and even spiritual connection they have with their partner. People with the Advocate personality type are passionate partners, and see intimacy as a way to express their love and to make their partners happy. Advocates cherish not just the act of being in a relationship, but what it means to become one with another person, in mind, body and soul.

There is a running theme with Advocates, and that is a yearning for authenticity and sincerity – in their activities, their romantic relationships, and their friendships. People with the Advocate personality type are unlikely to go for friendships of circumstance, like workplace social circles or chatting up their local baristas, where the only thing they really have in common is a day-to-day familiarity. Rather, Advocates seek out people who share their passions, interests and ideologies, people with whom they can explore philosophies and subjects that they believe are truly meaningful.

okay you can fuck off for another day

i found stuff from indo

ummm

ummm sometimes i wake up with nothing to complain about
in a world trying to suture up its own wounds
even when my mind tries to plaster the briefings of
'YOURE ALMOST 30 LIVING AT HOME'

these headlines,
i would usually stop and thumb
through their crispy fresh pages, but today I haven't the span

oh i still am aware that the national news of my day
is only about my shortest of leadership roles.

dont mind if i do


FAKE NEWS



...so lets take these transmissions as a sign that over here at the rant hole, things are possibly the most rantable they have ever been

my character is calling itself only to chat about it's own out.
my head is spinning itself, like the porcelain plates of doubt
my body seems content and melanin rich
MY SELF IS NOT BLEEDING
INSIDE OR OUT


i love you, and i want you to know that
i am sliding past the memories which
i used to suspend in front of me
like a forsaken stop sign

i love me and i want me to know that
i am sliding into the new memories from which
i am suspending  new street lights
and town commemorations.