Tag: mental health
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Are We There Yet?
Bracing. Heart racing. Memory tracing Forever facing leaning In every direction at once Quantum, I laugh at you quantum To you it’s all quanta, But if you wanna Know my strong opinion your hedging when you’re keening Fear careening courseward leaning forward And I haven’t even left my chair.
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The Beetle In My Box
Sometimes I feel more alone than alone. Because no matter who is around The beetle in the box is suffocating. So I open my head to let him breathe.
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Forging the Strohax
The alchemy of the linguistic stim. I once read a piece by Grant Morrison on Chaos Magick and creating a sigil. Morrison is a modern-day shaman, a psychonautic genius who channels profound truths into the two-dimensional universe of the graphic novel. I read his piece as part of a compendium by a group called Disinformation.…
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The Sin Eater
That poor little sin eater in a darkened room fed artificial light and filtered half-truths and lies he gets to eat the broken fragmented shredded bits of strategically weaponized semantic psycho subliminal Sub-liminal he eats in the liminal space feeding and digesting so you don’t have to taste the indigestion.
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Less Than Zero Sum
The “Suffering Bully” is a reminder that the endless cycle of competitive misery dehumanizes us. When we cling to zero-sum suffering, we alienate empathy and stifle genuine connection. True humanity flourishes through shared compassion, yet we cling to scarcity. It’s time to reject this flawed mindset and embrace our collective journey.
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The Long Dark Compartment Syndrome of the Soul
Do I tell this story? Should I tell this story? Have I already told this story? Forgive me… this year has been a lot. In addition to the malestrom of late-stage capitalism’s decline into oligarchy, I’ve been spelunking the depths of my own personal cave. Dante wasn’t kidding when he told of “rings of hell”…
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The Teacher With A Thousand Faces
The dramatis personae of any school is enriched and enlivened by a healthy variety of demeanors. If my intention was only to diminish those “unlike” me, I would be simultaneously devaluing their contributions along with my own. What makes us unique is often what makes us great. I have become the teacher I am today,…
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The Posterior Lie
I vacillated on the publish button. This is the story of the 17-year-old kid holed up in the dark, the 5-year-old in the hospital, and the Red Thread that ties them together. A journey through the ‘Posterior Lie’ of trauma to find the gold hidden in the mud.
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Twisted Sonnet
I sat with my coffee and journal this morning and was feeling iambic. At first I was afraid my iron was low, but the hemogleebinglobbinglobin all the while and it was then I realized I was straining a terrible pun way beyond its tensile strength (you tensile! Fork you!)… but I digress… my puns are…
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Seasons Of Creativity
Summer nights and long warm daysAre stolen as the old moon fallsAnd my mirror shows another faceAnother place to hide it allAnother place to hide it all And I’m lost, behindThe words I’ll never findAnd I’m left behindAs seasons roll on by It has been way too long since I’ve posted. I’ve been creating. I’ve…