broken silence

Every now and then I remember with the sharpest of pangs that I never really chose to write, and it was never anything I dreamed of doing, and who would anyway? I have to write to survive otherwise I just eat myself alive. I can feel them prodding me, words that need to purge themselves from me. They build up and they drag me down, they clog my mind, they drain my body, they make me physically and spiritually ill– then I sit down and I realize why I’d been so uncomfortable in my skin, with my organs, with my heart, with my brain. I thought it was something biological, but it’s far more esoteric than that because we are far more esoteric than that

I often don’t know what to make of life… sometimes I do, but then I lose it. Lately I’ve come to say there’s a sense of poetry,… not order, not chaos, just poetry. Nothing makes sense, but it does. And when it happens it just feels like something has been completed and for a moment everything does make sense, just for a moment I feel connected to everything and it brings a kind of ecstasy that can never be repeated

But everything in between can feel like I’m just stuttering and don’t know what to say or wouldn’t even begin to know how to frame such a word if there even was one to frame. And the phrase would be void of meaning and I wouldn’t know what I meant the second it left me. Yet at some point I just have to surrender to the fear of nonsensicality

lately I’ve been rather too silent and I only just realized I’ve allowed so much to build up within me like a dam refusing to give, so stalwart like it’s strength to refuse to be broken, like it’s not just fear of what’s to come when all the pieces lay astray. Ultimately I have to allow myself to be broken because sometimes we have to be broken to see all that is within, all the stale and withering parts squirming around not knowing where to go when we wouldn’t let them see the light of an open world. I let me break and for a time I feel weak, I feel lost and exposed, scattered and disoriented like all the cells of what I used to be could take any shape and I wouldn’t know which they’d choose. But I am the one who has the choice. I let go of who I thought I was or what I imagined was to be, surrender me to something beyond, the beauty of knowing I’m unfinished and there even is something more

and I have a sense it’ll be something magnificent, whatever it is, but I don’t know for sure. I know we’re all just going about life blind continuously searching for reasons, losing reasons, losing sight, losing self, losing loss, finding beauty in the loss, surrendering to what there is to gain that we never planned on attaining. Something always keeps us going even when time is so fickle and as I say, nonlinear. It’s not like we can plan for anything, but that’s just it… it’s not chaos, but it’s also not order. It’s something else entirely, something beyond words and I have a feeling we can all feel it, the lifeblood of the universe

I realize we’re all in a period of transition, harsh transition. Twelve months ago none of us would have thought we’d be here and now all I can think is that the world is never gonna be quite what it was. We as humans tend to become attached to what we’re accustomed to and so we can’t ride that lifeblood in all its tides and currents, sudden hangs and turns. All of this feels like chaos, actually, it feels like the end of the world. But what happens when we all strap in ready for the killing blow and it never comes? They say it’ll be some rogue, monstrous asteroid, a viral “pandemic” that has so far killed off less than .01% of the Earth’s population, alien invasion, time collapsing into itself, the sun suddenly vanishing without warning, the next ice age, nuclear warfare, biological warfare? Maybe we’ll all get cancer, it seems to be in everything nowadays anyway. Or maybe we’ll all just drink the laced kool-aid because choosing our death is a much less harrowing expense. Well, the truth is, parts of us are dying and parts of us are purging, but those are the parts of us that were already necrotized into worthlessness and ready to be amputated lest they spread. You can only wrap it up for so long and pretend it’s functioning

Sometimes things need to be broken so one can see what was always there. We were already dying a slow death and now make way for a new kind of life. There’s a new line for us to write, a new book, a new beginning. Not a word of it in English or any Earthly language. We’re children again, but there’s a freedom in that. We’re here to learn how to form our fingers and our hands to a new system because the only one could never support us. When we see the brokenness, to the human mind, it registers as chaos, failure, death because we were taught time is linear when it’s not

if time isn’t linear, that means there is no end. What’s true in a second may be wholly untrue the next. Two truths which contradict can exist simultaneously. Truth may not even be a relevant concept, not as relevant as experience because experience is sacred and experience transcends words and can never be repeated because it is ritual

I don’t really know where I’m going with anything here but I’ve truly been feeling physically ill and I really did just figure it out tonight that the reason why is because this is my lifeblood and without it I’m just draining myself away

Language as Liberation

rebellion– the highest act of rebellion in this day is to defy the ‘rules’ of language as they seek to restrict

liberation– to be free is to have your reality and expression unhindered by limiting factors in the form of words and concepts

I was given a prompt by my professor this past week to divulge my opinion on the perspective of historical linguistics that languages decay and become mutilated over time(and those were the actual words used, not my being hyperbolic)– I of course heavily, wholeheartedly, and with every ounce of my soul disagreed and most of the class being young people who engage in very modernized language everyday did as well, but I do have my particular reasons:

Language is not to be tamed or controlled and I posit that to do so would actually portend the decay of a society in which that language is being systematically tamed. Our English language is tamed just the same and I do have my own qualms with that which is why I don’t see the value in “proper grammar” or even proper spelling and I assume complete and total poetic license in any work of literature, formal or informal, artistic or academic. To tame language is to tame meaning and meaning is a wordless, infinite, and largely unfathomable thing. It is and it can’t be held or comprehended. It never stops beating and no single beat is ever alike. Our use of sound and symbol to represent meaning should be organic because meaning itself is organic, not controlled, not predictable, not systematically observable. Nothing is ever truly repeated, we only give our reality the veneer of order and repetition…systematization. I believe chaos is close to truth than order and also that the human soul is of chaos

For example, you can say you’re happy when you’re with your romantic partner, but in truth, what you’re feeling is something so deep that words couldn’t even begin to conquer its expression. You may feel such depth of feeling every time you’re with your partner, but they’re never exactly the same feelings with the same meanings and thus they aren’t repeated or repeatable. Yet you may still say you feel happy despite the fact beneath the surface of that simple word is that chaos of unrepeatable experience and seeming randomness of arousal. By that I mean that we don’t plan to have these experiences that incite such deep meaning. By all appearances, they’re random

What if you decided to come up with a new utterance to encapsulate all that you feel in a single moment with that partner? Is that valid? Is it invalid just because it’s ‘not a word’? Of course it’s valid. If it wasn’t, then we wouldn’t have words in the first place and there is no rational reason for anyone to stick a flag in our language system and declare that it has reached its apex and we must suspend all evolution. Words flow and form and are uttered organically, not by some system that can be coded and controlled

I do note there’s a common bias that what was done in the past and how things were done in the past is somehow more right than what is done now or could be done in the future. How could one justify such a limiting belief? We don’t know the possibilities until we push the boundaries and see what’s on the other side. I believe this stems from a fear of the unknown, but I also believe it should be embraced because without the embrace of the beautiful unknown, we would have no progression, no evolution– all would be static and unmoving

But let’s go back to the beginning, How did language arise in the first place? It’s not like we can know for sure unless we develop a time machine and wouldn’t care to risk fucking up a timeline, but I would wager everything I own that it didn’t arise from a predetermined and limited system of sounds and meanings because that would be impossible. The most likely case is that language arose as humans felt or observed facets of their internal and external worlds and needed means to communicate them either for survival or just for the plain old human need for connection. That’s what I mean by organic. Why should we stop? Can we actually claim that language has reached its apex or that it’s been in a decline? What would that even mean? How could language be declining? The only way it could be in decline is if we as a humanity were losing our ability to express and explore meaning through words which, actually, I suppose in a way we are. If language is in decline, it’s more to do with strict academic rules. But that’s of course why we have the rebels who choose the route of poetry

Language is about meaning, plain and simple…intricate and complex. If it can’t be used to represent meanings, then it’s useless. Suspending its natural and organic evolution may as well just render it an artifact to be viewed in a museum wordlessly musing what once was but never will be again. We may as well be robots if our language was to become so controlled and preserved because to control language is to control us, people

Change is not decay and is not mutilation. We can peer into languages of the past or ancient forms of modern languages and gain such a beautiful and enriched insight into how they lived. We can look at etymology and note how word meanings have changed and forms have changed and what perhaps these changes mean in terms of how we’ve changed. We can even use historical linguistics and etymology for a deeper conception of the words we use now, but change is not decay and change is not mutilation

Humanity shouldn’t be subject to systems that limit expression or plague it with the concept that things must remain the same or that meaningless action and repetition are honorable. I say society would decay if language was fully preserved because to do so would be to wholly halt the expression of spirit and soul in everyday discourse and action. Since words essentially form our entire realities, to systematize and preserve language is to preserve society, but that means preventing it from further discovery and transformation and preventing it from any semblance of forward or outward movement(as I believe things to not be linear). We’d become a machine, just a machine. A machine with predictable parts that do exactly what they’re supposed to do as dictated by some higher order creator, easily controlled, easily replaced. We’d be robots, controlled and coded

My theory is that disorders like anxiety and depression are on the rise because we’re being pushed for so much order and systematization. Language is a part of that and really, language is at the foundation of it since words form our realities. Each spirit is so unique and intricate that its inner connection to meaning just cannot be bagged and tagged. Repetition(via systems) is inherently registered as decay to the human soul which naturally seeks continuous meaning, experience, and creation

So I believe it’s imperative we rebel against structured language, grammar, spelling– When you feel something that you can’t put into words, feel the sounds and the meaning through your body and that is the purest language you can attain

 

Apocalypse; Purification; Rebirth-Are we living in the ‘end times’?

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Right now, we’re in the midst of ecological disasters, a financial depression, and of course, a pandemic. It sure does seem like the apocalypse, right? And if we observe recent television, it’s almost as if the powers that be have been preparing us for an apocalypse over the past decade. It’s like they want us to believe the universe is hellbent on cutting the cord to all humanity

But this is not the end of days, this isn’t the rapture, this isn’t us heading for a raging, fiery collective death. This is us preparing for vast transformation

If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that great transformation doesn’t happen softly and soothingly, slowly and smoothly. It doesn’t happen while you’re being cuddled in your mother’s arms. It doesn’t happen with a single scratch you can put some Neosporin on and bandage up until it heals in a few days. And it doesn’t happen when you expect it to. Ever.– No, it happens while you’re smiling and thinking of all that beautiful progress you’ve made in life and without any trace of a warning, it hits you with a great gaping hole through your lungs that threatens your breath and every fiber of being left. It spreads itself like a virus through your veins and you’d swear you’re no longer bleeding and that viscous liquid squeezing itself from your body isn’t you, but some cancerous invader bent on wiping you clean away

Life destroys you. It destroys you. It puts you in your place, it humbles you. That coming transformation happens with laceration after laceration as you struggle to heal before the next one comes. It’s brutal and doesn’t dare hold back its punches. It hits you until you can’t walk, and you can’t even crawl. It brings you to the depths of hopelessness and waning light and makes you question if light ever existed or if it was just a figment of your imagination, just an illusion

But while you’re there statuesquely posed in the fetal position as if if you just stood still for long enough perhaps you’d be taken back to that sacred womb and not have to experience this brutal world, it forces you to contemplate why you ever breathed in the first place and why you kept yourself alive for all those years before the fatal blow. You’re faced with a choice: Life, or death. You’re forced to review what really matters, the beat and pulse of what you’re living for. Who and what you love. It destroys you so that all you are left with is what could never be destroyed: your soul and your passion, your love. Not a thing in this world could ever take those away from you. The human body is such a resilient thing, as is the human mind, and every aspect of it is built for survival no matter how dire the circumstances

So we stand here with all the systems we thought we could rely on crumbling, that false warmth and security failing. We stand here and we see just how much of what we thought mattered could be so easily destroyed and we have to question what it is that really matters to us, what it is that can’t be taken from us. Many of us are uncomfortable with our solitude because all those systems kept us distracted, they kept us from feeling our heart beats and from following their rhythm in favor of the cacophony of the modern Western world

This is a time for purification… as they say, purification by fire. Purification is not a beautiful thing. It hurts. It hurts like hell and it will bring you to the brink of death. But as your last breath splits itself, half alive and half dead, you seize it. You remember why you’re living, you remember why your heart beats and what makes it beat faster exuding light. You see so starkly what no atrocity could ever take from you. It could take your breath away, but it could never take your love, your spirit, your passion, and it could never truly take your life if you have those in your hands

It’s often when we stand to lose everything that we become aware of what really matters and what we could never let go of because it matters too much. All our egoic desires just dissolve when we see an entire world in peril and consider that we or ones we love could very well die. It’s through death we seize life and as a collective, we are symbolically dying so that we can be reborn

Reflections

I have a strong feeling that nothing is ever gonna be as it was and when that became apparent to me, it felt like a shock to my system. But upon further contemplation, I realized that this is the moment I’d been waiting for. I knew it was coming but I didn’t know how. I just knew that despite all my previous deaths, I’d face a single greater death that would far eclipse the rest. We as a collective have had the rug pulled out from underneath us. We see now that we’re all in pain, we’re all suffering. That is forcing us out of our own little bubbles lined with illusions that our individual suffering is somehow greater than others’ suffering

This awareness will propel us to more than ever join together to heal and to form new systems that work because so obviously the old systems didn’t work. It’s a time for newness. It’s a time for rebirth. It’s a time for new leaders to step up and create their own movements aimed at creating systems that run on symbiosis; symbiosis between humans, but also with the Earth

This pain is real and yes, I know people are dying, but we have to focus on the prospect of new life. What I know with absolute sureness is that when grand destruction occurs, the opportunity for equally grand growth is introduced. Yes, the world seems to be in shattered rubble, but what’s really occurring is that the parasitic systems that previously reigned are being torn away. It’ll leave a mark, but we’re being called to heal it and to rebuild, re-create, to use our creative power to introduce true symbiosis

For right now, I believe we’re being called to take a break from the oppressive, soulless systems that have been leeching off of us and to return to the heart. It’s an opportunity to tend to family and friend dynamics, but also to return to passions we may have long forgotten out of what felt like necessity. It’s a time to think and contemplate the coming changes we will be enacting when we’re released from lockdown. Pick up that guitar that’s collecting dust, pick up a pen and just start writing in that journal you’d wanted to start months before, pick up a new skill,… just whatever you do, create

I must admit that I foresee a great amount of turmoil we’re gonna have to endure before we can start rebuilding, but just strap in. Keep your spirits up. Dance. Engage in what you love. Enjoy time with your family. Heal what you hadn’t been able to heal while being parasitically leeched off of by corrupt systems

When ‘this is over’, things won’t be the same. Nothing can ever be the same. But what we’re gonna be left with is the pure foundation that had been seized by corrupt individuals and turned into the parasite it became, and we’re gonna create a more beautiful world in which everyone has the tools to thrive

Evolve or Die

Transformation. Think ‘rebirth’. To be reborn, you must die. And so we’re going through the flames and when ‘this is over’, we’re not gonna be the same people we were before just as the world will not be what it was. Collectively, we’re being called to grow up and as I said, it’s ‘evolve or die’ time

The choice we always have no matter the circumstances is to either fold, or evolve. You as an individual have your own choice as to how you’re gonna react to the chaos. Chaos isn’t the enemy. Chaos is inevitable. But the human mind is so powerful that no amount of chaos can overpower it unless it chooses to be overpowered. Humans at the core are creators and when you’re in the hands of your creative power, nothing can overpower you

Ultimately, whether or not we’re living in the end times is up to us, but it’s important to know that that’s our choice and we have all the power in the world to evolve, to transform. Would you rather live with limp breath, or embrace the call to transform?

So we will not be overpowered. We will evolve. We will rebuild. We will be reborn

Shifts

words, magic, wordless, sounds, glossolalia, dance, ritual, energy, perception, perspective, infinite possibilities, sigil, metaphor, symbolic, impressions, feeling, emotion

with just a few shifts, you’re in an entirely new universe

nothing and no one can overpower me because my creative mind will simply shift its way through whatever threatens to grasp it

isn’t it wild that with simple perspective shift, nothing can overpower you? become a master perspective shifting, seeing all angles, then you’ll always be free

my theory is that there’s far more we can do with perspective shifting than just getting ourselves through everyday obstacles. I’m thinking perhaps there are infinite layers to existence that can be uncovered simply by shifting perspective and doing a little wordplay