q u i c k e n e d t e n d r i l s
ultradimensional flecks in the mind muck

measures met

Dating and meeting people is fun. Different than it used to be. Easier. So far, the ones who have caught my interest, the timing wasn’t right.

A year after my last breakup, I remind myself that while going through each day without anyone to share intimately with has its difficulties, I prefer it to the nearly traumatic level of anguish I endure in the wake of a romance’s ending. Hell, I had only just felt that I was out the other side of Hell … when I suddenly got picked up, carried high … and tossed … by who knows what. To say ‘it wasn’t so bad compared to what I had been through before’ seems to help me shrug my shoulders about it but it really isn’t saying much. It was humiliating, it cut me down. For a long while, it defined my reality; it was a struggle to swim to shore.

Frustration creates this friction within that can burn up the mental and emotional faculties or be channeled consciously, creatively. But my current frustration … I’d like to believe it’s different from last summer, given my situation is so different and that I’m so happy and gracious and attuned so often … but really the rules are the same: Friction within. Conscious intent can employ it for art / coherence, and the opposite runs risks for personal health.

Day after day, my mind drifts to women I know and women I don’t know, hoping that someone, somewhere, and I, will love each other sometime soon. But if it doesn’t come, I am still just here, facing myself every moment anyway, the same way that shared love compelled me to, confronting and relating, fuming and laughing … making songs. 

Maybe I got the last kick in the ass I needed, to go on with the work I have to do without the requisite outside catalyst. I sense the muse as a sort of internal presence now, as this fact that I had only let others remind me of, that I couldn’t now shake from my own awareness if I wanted to.

My lyrics sure don’t hurt for it …


switch off the wasteland remirror face

remove the mechanical role trade

the measures met . fear came . we stayed

what dissipates makes way for my new name


wherefrom this path . what’s cleared the way

think future me had this whole trail blazed

another step and i’ll collapse the maze

its like a joke . like forever holds more of the same


by the time you’re bold enough to seek my trust

i’ll be years away

yet i gave it, and once given it stays

so i carry flame

so i carry flame

so i carry flame

Know thou that the darkness of the earth is ruddy, and the darkness of the air is grey, but the darkness of the soul is utter blackness.
— Aleister Crowley - The Vision and the Voice (The Cry of the 14th AEthyr)

(Source: hatefulbunnies, via the-psychonaut)

(Source: studioghifli, via blaqmercury)

(Source: threeblackdots)

(Source: rudygodinez, via undnied)


Five Green Ponds 
Batavia, NY


This is very distracting


(via gh2u)