A Collection of Poems

Shadow of the Colossus

These giants
Loom over our water-coloured world
Like stone statues of
Ancient guardians
Turned against us.

We struggle
With our ancestors,
Attempting to defeat
Ideas
With effort
And sweat.

We fight
with shadows
Lurking like vacant arachnid skins
In the fortress of our mind.

There they stand.
A reminder
Of the unattainable ideal
The immutability
And despair
Of our plight.

Towering over us
Silently
Stoically
Crushing our every attempt.

We climb.
We fall.

Titans
Are they who
Arising from the dirt
Our breathren by birth
(We are all of the Earth)
Turn
From protecting us
To protecting against us.

I wonder if it was always so
Or if it is not indeed we who turned.

Attacking our roots
Attacking our thoughts
Are we not simply attacking ourselves?

Forever at war.
Not realising
That we are always
In the Shadow of the Colossus.

The Lone Bird

The lone bird.

She is not moving.
She is not going anywhere.
She flaps her wings
And stands still.

The lone bird.

Is she looking for someone she lost?
Or maybe hasn’t found yet?

The lone bird.

Is she trying to get somewhere?
Or is she stalling?
Putting off making a decision
Of which way to go?

The lone bird.

Is she struggling against her environment
Trying to make some progress?
Or is she nonchalantly, unconcernedly,
Not going anywhere at all?

The lone bird.

Is she unique or is she us all?

A lone bird.
Standing still.

By the Beach

There is an overbearing levity brought by the sand, sun, and ocean air.
The laughter and sounds catch in these bags of bones
Causing them to rattle about with jittery motion.

The upturned facial contortions matched by “happily” occupied hands
And lazy gaits mosaic around the maze of blocked off streets
Winding through more of the same accompanied by the occasional mobile structures.

I contemplate the existence of a veil of impenetrability between us
That causes my own brown to molt to green.

I hold more than they’ll ever know in my hands, more than this will ever be,
Yet can it be that I still yearn to be
By the beach…?

Hummingbird

One bird always will follow the other.
Humming past, the innocent dance (to human senses)
Startles and alarms
Like motors of cars
And stars
Falling
From their orbits.

The soft whirring, purring, of a motion so fast
Mimics the sound of the last enemy desired to attract – cats.

Fraught with agitation so great
They chase (or are chased by)
One another never satisfied
In their restless attempts to find
Some peace of mind.

One bird always follows another.
Both unable to attain their aim.

Keep Up With Me Now

The darkness of night
The silenced time
During the absence of light.
The rush, crush, flush,
Pull of it, to fill the lack,
The black
Attraction
To danger.
Noir.
Scar, so far, so hard.
Don’ t gum it.
“Keep up with me now”
The film on skin is not just within
The scene, the mean blown dream.
Juice, junk, bims, and bumps.
Life in dives and dumps.
Boxes and cans, what can we do?
Yeggs were born of broads, too,
Jakeyloo.
Clam and wise up.
Time’s up.
Dust left to waste.
No other world.
In or out.
It’s here.

Newborn Broken Glass Stars

Broken bottles litter the Earth’s surface with their coloured glass.
The stars catch the light refracted from the pieces.

Their messages are absorbed, burnt, and spit into the universe
In an explosion of fire and pain.

The stardust collects and is swallowed by the moon
Who lets the words fall from her eyes, in her tears.

Each tear cradles a newborn.
Each child has a heart of gold.

Each heart is broken like the bottles of glass.
They are born broken.

The Fear of Ego Stands in the Way of Love

When the leaves are stripped bare,
Their skeletons protrude,
Stabbing the paved sidewalks
Like monstrous claws of despair.

Their existence is fading, faltering,
Shriveling up and blowing away.
The fall wind is cold and harsh;
There will be no survivors.

I see people here and there.
They’re walking, talking, unaware.
All of these zombies are asleep.
So why is it that I care?

Despite better sense and understanding
Psychological disturbances prevail.
Unbeknownst to me, I fail,
And l drown in my perpetual fearing.

To lay our whole heart on the line,
That is true love – something very hard to find.

Set My Soul Alight

Is this heaven or hell?
Is not knowing the point?
The world so dark and light
Made bright only by sight.
Made night only by plight.
Who fights? Whose might? What’s right?
“Set my soul alight.”

I am floundering.
I am lacking in me.
I need a change of scene
To do the deed, be freed.
Of my own cage of self.

I am not free, but gain a temporary reprieve
To breathe and believe in lies.
I am waterboarded, but alive.

I have a choice
To serve or to die
And sink back into this life to cry.

I have a hunger that will never be filled
An ache never to go away.

How can I survive this high?

Together

I want to travel the world with you.
Live life with you.

Have tea and crumpets with you.
Curled up together inside a wood and brick cottage
Watching the rain.
Stroll hand in hand with you.
By the Mediteranean shoreline, bright and beautiful,
With our toes in the sand.
Shiver in the howling wind with you.
Staring down the craggy -cliffed canyons, fearless and stupid,
Because we are together.
Dance under the stars with you.
The warmth of the humid air kissing our skin, heavy rythyms
Sinking deep into our hollow breaths.
I want to see the sights and smell the smells
Knowing they’ll be made all the sweeter by your presence.
The plane trips alone, full of spiritual thoughts,
Touching heads, and clutched hands,
Will be an adventure worth having.
I want to live with you, to travel with you,
To laugh with you, to cry with you.
I want to love with you.
And to meet God with you.
Together.

A Portrait of Nervous Delirium

I’m building these structures around themselves,
Aticipating a certain nothingness that arises
From pushing through the mistakes
We make
In taking
A chance.
Let’s take some risks now.

Starseed

It took me a long time to remember who I was. I’d forgotten where I’d come from & why I chose to come here in the first place. My memory was always hazy, but there were impressions I felt that were hard to shake. Somehow I’d always known I was different, that I wasn’t from around these parts, but rather somewhere far, far away. Realizing that I wasn’t even from this planet, maybe even this galaxy, however, was more than I’d ever dreamt to be the case despite how strongly the suggestion resonated within me.

I don’t know if I’d come to the conclusion on my own or if it had been planted in me, but it became a theme that I’d stumble upon throughout my life. I felt a disconnect from the world of illusion that surrounded me, that threatened to drown me. This plane of shadows never fooled me, and I knew that the body I was tethered to wasn’t who I really was. This constant feeling of dissociation helped me stay clear of a lot of the usual pitfalls, but other challenges plagued me instead.

“Starseed,” she’d called me. This word echoed in my mind, bouncing off half-formed structures crafted from similar substances. There was something to this; I knew it. There was something here, exactly what I’d been struggling to uncover for years. It was like she’d given me some integral part of the puzzle, yet I still wasn’t sure what to do with this new piece of information.

“Sit with yourself,” she’d said. “Let yourself feel what you know is true. Trust in your wisdom & hibernate until you’re ready to break free of your cocoon. Your time will come, but you are not ready yet.”

What did it mean? What would become of me if I followed her advice? Would the pain & suffering, confusion & desperation finally clear up, finally allow the light into this world of darkness I’d lived so long in?

When I closed my eyes and rested against the firm ground, I opened myself up, freeing myself of all I was keeping locked inside. I was tired of carrying the weight of the world inside of me. I cast out the chaos, letting it seep out, emptying me so I could finally be rid of its heaviness. I drifted into the heavens & the stars welcomed me like they’d missed me, like they recognized me as one of them. I breathed in the cosmos & was rejuvenated, full of energy and purpose in a way I’d never been before. I felt supernovas exploding inside of me, the swirling stardust being thrown back together and creating new life within me. The universe was talking to me, embracing me, and I had a sense of comfort I’d been searching for my whole life. My purpose had been shown to me, my path finally revealed. I opened my eyes and at once remembered who I was.

“Starseed,” I whispered. “I am a Starseed.”

Pour Déplacer des Montagnes

“Éloïse.”

“Éloïse what?”

The shorter lad’s amber eyes widened in dismay.

“Fait chier! It occurs to me I never thought to ask her surname!”

The young man’s sandy haired friend laughed in a good humored manner as though this were not an uncommon occurrence.

“Oh, Albert, were you so enchanted by her beauty that you forgot your common sense once again? Tell me, when is it you last saw your good reason? I can’t seem to remember.” 

“Tais-toi, Pierre! I don’t see you having any greater success in romance.”

“That’s because I don’t try.”

“Because you’re afraid to fail.”

“Non, because I have more important things to do than chase skirts.”

“What could be more important than love?”

Pierre laughed again.

“Love, Albert? You think you’re pursuing love? You have much to learn, mon jeune ami.”

“Boucle-là! You’re not so much older than me yet you act as though you’re already close to the grave. Why must you be so grim, Pierre?”

The taller boy took a bite from his croissant to avoid answering. Albert simply sighed. He swirled his coffee idly in its cup, staring past the waitress at the next table, lost in thought. Finally, Pierre broke the silence. 

“That which you have, you cannot take with you,” he said somberly. 

“Quoi?” 

“Ce n’est rien. Forget it.”

“No, tell me. What do you mean by that?”

Pierre’s sky blue eyes darkened as if rainclouds were passing before them. Albert had felt his childhood friend to be troubled of late, but couldn’t come to any conclusions as to why. 

“Have you never considered what it’s all for? What any of it is worth in the end? Why do we strive to move mountains when earthquakes will come to crumble them afterwards?”

“Why do you say such things, my brother? Are you ill?” Albert’s chest tightened with apprehension.

Pierre sighed and stared into the distance, admiring the bright morning landscape. There were birds singing overhead, and the ocean was calmer than it had any right to be.

“Albert, life is something that escapes us. Every day we waste time chasing after this and that, thinking that when we attain something, then we will be happy, but it’s never the case. We are always left wanting more.” 

“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure if Éloïse were mine, I’d want for nothing.”

The lads laughed heartily and fell into comfortable silence once more. After a moment, Pierre called for the waitress, paid for their meal, and stood. 

“Albert, it’s been a pleasure as always. Shall we do it again tomorrow?”

“Bien sûr, but tomorrow I pay.”

“Comme tu veux! Bonne chance with Mademoiselle Éloïse! I look forward to hearing her family name!”

“And hear it you shall! À bientôt!” 

Albert gazed after his friend momentarily before grabbing his hat and coat and proceeding to head to the shoreline. He briefly wondered why his friend had been acting so strangely but soon his thoughts once again returned to Éloïse.

Terrae

Oh, how I wanted you to last forever.
Oh, how I never wanted to leave.

The golden patterns rippling across the shimmering waters were magical. The soft clouds that encircled and dissolved me permitted me to melt into you slowly. Sweet scented iridescence perforated me, disintegrating me, and I merged into you. l felt like I’d become a core, integral part of you. This state of existence was so subtle and sublime that anything tethering me to our concrete constructs of destruction would only taint it, so I had to give it all away.

You murmured to me from beneath the grass as I dug my fingers into your moist dark earth, trying to ground myself, desperately trying not to slip away from everything again. You assured me that all I’d been seeking was already here, inside you, inside me. I was afraid you weren’t real, that your voice wasn’t your own, that you were mute, deaf, and dumb just like the rest of the surface dwellers believed.

I was frightened by a life I didn’t understand, forms and formless entities within and without me, which came before, still existed, and would continue existing after everything else was gone. I didn’t know I was missing anything, yet somehow, still, I felt a void within.

I felt you embrace me, though, that one day I finally chose to listen when you whispered to me through the cool breeze, rustling grass, bushes, and trees. There were barely any sounds, but I heard your echoing voice calling to me, soothing yet powerful, and I couldn’t resist. I wanted to know you, to be with you, but I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know what to do, but you came and took me away.

When you swallowed me whole, engulfed me fully, the soil filled my lungs and throat. I felt like I was drowning, being buried alive. When you brought me down deeper into you, I let go, transformed, given new life, new breath, in a way I’d never even imagined possible. You, your world, your being, your essence, you filled me, deconstructed me, and drew every speck of my being back into you. We were together, reunited, and you showed me Earth as you were meant to be seen and known.

And it felt like home. More so than any other home I’d ever had. I was yours and you were mine. And I was whole, like you. With you. Together. Inseparable. Intertwined.

You showed me birth and decay, life and death, darkness and light, and how none of it is separate, none is right nor wrong, good nor evil. You showed me how all of it is part of you, of me, and of all of us who belong to you, belong with you.

Your touch, your scent, your existence was life itself, but you showed me that being alive meant dying eventually.

You showed me how you were dying, and I myself wanted to die with you, too.

Story of a Selkie

She’s standing barefoot on the boulders overlooking the crashing waves. The deafening wind blows her long pale hair across her face. She barely notices as the loose strands whip her skin forcefully. She’s in a trance, fully captured by the mesmerizing scene before her. She’s numb to her icy surroundings. There is no sun peeking through the overcast sky to warm her. She wouldn’t feel it anyway.

She’s paralyzed, transfixed to the spot, an ethereal statue on the edge of the cliff. There are scratches on her body, tears in the thin nightgown that gave no protection from the dry brush she frantically ran through to get here. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t feel. She was already numb. 

She can’t hear the voices traveling on the wind. She can’t hear anything but the sound of the cascading waters below her, the waves breaking onto the weathered rocks. The foamy waters are pouring into every crevice of the craggy coastline. Her breath is shallow, and while she’s suffocating less than she was, she’s still struggling just to exist. She can barely see through the tears searing her wide eyes, the droplets carried from her ivory cheeks by the wind. 

Her chest is swelling with the tide. She’s breathing in the salty ocean air, letting it fill every inch of her. She wants to dissolve into the atmosphere and be swept out to sea. She wants to escape this prison she’s trapped in. She needs to be free again, to merge with the world instead of being separated from it. They’ve captured her and taken her from all she knew, all she was. The pain resounding in her is unlike anything she’s felt before. She needs to go home. 

Her thoughts stray to the hide tucked away somewhere out of reach. She may never find it. She can’t go home like this, but she’s desperate. She will die if she tries to go back now, but she’s dying anyway. This isn’t how it was meant to be. This isn’t who she is. She only ever wanted to learn, to explore. Was that such a crime? 

She hears the footsteps now, the voices shouting to her. She’s running out of time. She has to decide now. She closes her stinging eyes and breathes in deeply, decisively. At least she’ll be free one last time. At least she’ll be home again, even if not for long. They’re frighteningly close now. It’s now or never. She jumps, diving head first into the water only a foot past the rocks, but the boulders just below the surface catch her fragile body, and it breaks. 

They’ve fallen quiet when they reach the cliff, approaching in silent apprehension, afraid of what they know they’ll see. She floats to the surface and is rocked back and forth by her watery cradle. The weight of their guilt pains them as they watch her lithe body being carried out to sea. Her face is peaceful.

She finally made it home. 

Eulogy for Grandpa Ric, 10 years later.

My last memory of Grandpa Ric was when he was on his deathbed. He was fortunate to be in his own bed, in his own home that he himself had built, surrounded by his family as he began the process of shedding his mortal coil.

I remember the dim lighting, the quiet sobbing, the intimate embraces, and the hymns being sung, softly & gently at first, then growing louder & stronger as everyone tearfully joined in.

“Swing low, sweet chariot
Coming for to carry me home,
Swing low, sweet chariot,
Coming for to carry me home.”

The raspy gurgling sounds he made after he slipped into his coma were uncomfortable, but almost soothing in their constancy. He was drowning before us, and there was nothing we could do but be there for him, with him, with each other as he faded away before us.

I was 18 when I first witnessed Death. I am still ever so grateful for this experience. I am so glad I got to be with him, with everyone, as he passed from this world and into the next, escorted by the merciful Reaper who gets such a bad rap.

As an awkward teenager, it was difficult not only to be losing a beloved family member, but also to witness & share in the mourning of this devastating event that seemed simultaneously to go on forever, yet over too fast.

“Amazing Grace! how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come
‘Tis grace that brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home”

I think this was one of the few times I bolstered myself into joining in with the “Masten von Trapp” family as they sang their farewells to the great troubadour & self-dubbed bard. I’d always been too shy and self-conscious to perform with them all at what was then known as Morgan’s Coffee Shop, downtown Monterey, near Alvarado Street. It was a yearly event they engaged in for a while that I’d missed out on, just like so many of the other poetry recitations & musical performances Ric Masten & his family participated in like First Night & the Thunderbird Bookstore readings.

I now lament my foolish teenaged egocentricism in retrospect, but I was too young to even appreciate what was going on & the depth of the words my grandfather wrote & recited. I even felt irritated that I’d be dragged along to such functions when I had my pubescent existential misery & self-loathing to wallow in. Oh, if I’d only listened properly, perhaps my myopic woes might have been assuaged ever so slightly by his profound realizations & poetic transcriptions.

I listened to him gasping for air that night, though. I listened to the grief & love that was thickening the air like a comforting blanket to ease his journey into the beyond. I wasn’t scared of death in this moment, interestingly enough. It wasn’t scary to see him this way, only painful thinking he might be suffering, desiring to see him finally get relief in sweet release.

When grandpa’s noises waned, my aunt who had been monitoring his pulse, feeling it slow and presumably stop, declared that he’d passed after a final moment of silence.

Only for him to breathe one more, rattling and incredibly loud breath, startling the whole room into laughter, breaking the reverent quiet.

“Oh Ric, always insisting on having the final say, surprising everyone, and making us laugh in spite of the harsh and biting realities of life.”

This eulogy comes too late as it’s now been over a decade since he left this world, but it’s only now as I near 30 that I really am starting to appreciate the gifts he left behind for us, for me. I am so glad I got to feel his spirit lingering in the room, bidding us all a final affectionate farewell, before abruptly leaving the room cold, letting us physically feel the loss of his presence before us.

His third (and final) installation of his self-published book series, “Words & One-Liners” entitled “Take Three (Not Dead Yet)” arrived the next morning. How apropos in some way. I helped another aunt make a death mask for him, touching his cold, lifeless face the way no one else would but her. Later on, when I missed him, I hugged one of the masks she made & wore one of his sweaters, simply to spend some time with him again.

The strangest thing happened that night after he passed away. He came to me in my dream. We were leaning on our arms on a table, gazing at one another lovingly, and he had a camera pointed directly at me. This was long before I decided to face my crippling fear of performance art & start to dabble in modeling, choosing to face the camera instead of continuing to hide from it. The dream, to me then, remembering it the next morning, signified that he was taking a piece of me with him, telling me he wouldn’t forget me. It was an artistic catharsis & one last goodbye.

Only now am I thinking about how funny it is that he, friends with photographers, but never really one himself, bid me adieu in such a manner. Perhaps, now that I reflect more on it, it was part of the reason I chose to step in front of the lens despite all of my panic & dread when it came to attention being directed at me. I muse upon it all now & think about how interesting and cyclical life and all of its nuances really are, and why his song, “Let It Be A Dance,” became known as his magnum opus, added into the Unitarian Universalist hymnal after he’d been ordained a UU minister.

Just as you said your final goodbye to me that evening, I say my final goodbye to you now, Grandpa Ric. I’ll see you on the other side, and until then, I’ll try my best to always let it be a dance. I love you ❤

“A child is born, the old must die.
A time for joy, a time to cry.
So take it as it passes by,
And let it be a dance.

Let it be a dance we do.
May I have this dance with you?
Through the good times and the bad times too,
Let it be a dance, we do.”

JAX LIFE NEWS UPDATE

So y’all know I have a tendency of being *ahem* somewhat verbose, but I’ll do my utmost best to be AS concise AS possible in this update. But, seriously, there’s a LOT of recent updates, so if you wanna know what’s going on with me, just know you’ll need to be prepared for the long haul haha ❤ 

~*~

HEALTH

  1. I just finished my first Dialectical Behavioral Therapy Module this week. It was relatively informative & helpful, but I’ll need more actual practical examples & role play scenarios for it to really stick, I think. I’ll be starting the next module in the Fall, because I will be all over the place in Summer.
  1. My new psychiatrist is still adjusting my meds, which, I’m not gonna lie here, is quite hellish. I’m all over the map emotionally. The good news is that I’m feeling a little less depressed/despondent. The bad news is that I’m hypo/manic af, which ranges between totally irresponsible/unreliable & risky/impulsive behaviors to irascibility/irritability nearing explosive rage again, & this constant restlessness/pressure to do ALL THE THINGS at all times!!

    The main problem w/ having the all of this pent up creative/productive motivation & energy wanting to come out, however, is that if it’s untempered by proper medication & clinical therapy, I’ll crash and burn again, and probably sink back into that debilitating state of depression & despondency, that keeps me in bed doing nothing for days to weeks, to months to years, so I’m doing my utmost best to monitor everything & keep my thoughts, energy, & moods in check.
  1. I’ve been super inconsistent w/ my diet & exercise, but as I said, I’ve been inconsistent w/ EVERYTHING & still either under or over sleeping/eating, which will just make me so tired that I end up not wanting to do anything at all, so I’ll just take the easiest path, which is often the least healthy option. It’s a work in progress, though, just like everything else, so I’m trying to not let this blip get me too discouraged & just keep on keepin’ on as best I can.
  1. I have a TON of appointments to schedule/keep & calls to make that are super important when it comes to continuing to receive benefits & healthcare. I really need to find out if I can get dental/vision covered here because I just lost my last pair of glasses, which I need to drive, soooo yeah…. I’m being super avoidant about making the calls & appts, so this has been exceedingly challenging & I’m doing my best to try to reach out to friends & support networks to help me in getting these things done. Slow going, but again, WIP…

~*~

FINANCES

  1. Still poor af, but at least my folks are letting me stay w/ them free of charge, as difficult as it may be to try to have a life at almost 30 & still be under your parents’ thumb since they have a totally different lifestyle & schedule, thus waking them up when I get home late is really troublesome as they work so early. I at least have all of my medical services covered though, so therapy, meds, GP/PCP appts, etc. is all free, & I get a couple hundred bucks per month for food & general aid like gas, toiletries, etc, but tbh it barely covers anything & with my most recent manic spending spree, I’ve been broke this entire month, continuing to dip into negatives in my checking accounts. Hopefully the worst of this manic impulsive spending spree is over, though. I usually don’t even buy anything other than comics & gas really haha.
  1. My SSI appeal & SSDI application are STILL processing, but this isn’t abnormal. Until I can get federal aid, however, I can’t move out on my own again, since all the housing around here is either way too expensive or lacking in privacy, which is a huge deal for my sanity/mental health. I’m a very, VERY reclusive & introverted person who needs a LOT of alone time & even having one close person like a family member in the house coughing from time to time puts me on edge, reminding me I’m not alone. I have great support though this time when it comes to my applications such as social workers, case workers, providers, etc. backing me up & fighting for me because they believe I really do need this help, and while it can be embarrassing to say, yeah, I’m intelligent, articulate, talented, young, etc., I’m also disabled, though you probably wouldn’t be able to know that when looking at me or talking to me. It took almost 15 years of floundering & screwing up my life as well as that of others in many painful ways, dropping out of more than 5 diff colleges, not lasting in a job or relationship for even 2 years, being in & out of states of depression where I was basically agoraphobic & socially anxious to the point where I couldn’t leave the house or socialize at all practically for YEARS. I wasted YEARS of my life, and now at 29, I’m having to humble myself and admit that I need help. Real help. Significant help. Long term help.

    I still have hopes & dreams & goals like any other human when it comes to this life, but I have to finally admit that I don’t think it’s possible for me to achieve them on my own. I need extra support, patience, time, resources, etc. in order to even take a baby step when everyone else is lapping me on the track without anything other than their own skills and abilities. It can make me feel defective, inferior, & worthless, but then I have to remind myself that I can do things others can’t and can offer the world stuff others wouldn’t be able to, I just need to do things in my own way, as time consuming, draining, and exhausting as it may be. I don’t wanna give up though. Not anymore. I have hope now. Even if all this time has passed and I have not very much to show for it, I have hope that with the right support, maybe I could achieve some dreams & do some real, amazing work that might even be able to help affect some lasting change in the world, Inshallah ❤

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EDUCATION

  1. I finally registered for courses at the local community college in the Fall. I didn’t feel ready to just jump right in for Summer quarter, plus there’s a lot I’m doing these next two months, which is why everything’s gonna be just getting things prepared for Fall. I’ll be taking a basic Math course to get my fundamentals solidified as I really wanna do it right this time if I want to go down the science track. I don’t wanna be overwhelmed & drop out again, so I’ve got the college’s disability/accessibility resource center behind me which will help with class & work accommodations & extra tutoring & all that jazz. Let’s hope the… 6th? 7th? time’s the charm? lol I’m trying to do everything right this time & really learn as much as I can about the college, the campus, the clubs, the resources, etc. as far in advance as possible so it’ll be minimal stress & maximum support right from the get go. I also enrolled in a college success course & a yoga course to try to get me some accountability with just being active, regular, & healthy.
  1. I still wanna go down the Cognitive Science/Neuroscience/Psycholinguistics track, which means that ideally, if I can get these basics gen eds covered within the next few years & somehow figure out how to financially make it viable, I’d still really love to attend the University of Edinburgh since they’re world renowned for cutting edge research in all to do with psychology, even parapsychology. There’s a part of me that’s still hoping I could reclaim my Spanish citizenship & that Scotland/Britain stays within the EU program so I could get EU citizen benefits instead of being an American abroad. That’d be the dream, but I’d also love to study abroad/live somewhere in either India or a Spanish speaking country if they had a good school for Cognitive Neurolinguistic research… it’s just a, uh, hyper specialized field. 

~*~

CREATIVITY

  1. After moving to Bellingham, I was at first just concerned w/ getting my health back on track, but I started getting lonely/feeling like I needed to make some friends & connections that weren’t just medical health professionals, so I looked into some local FB groups & downtown locations & have really lucked out! I found a really great local comic shop that I opened a pull list with, which meant I sadly had to close my hold box at Black Cat in SLC, but hey, I gotta support local, right? This comic shop does a lot of events & has a local comic creators meet up group, which has reignited the metaphorical fire under my butt to crank out my long-time WIP comics. It’s a ton of work learning how to translate writing short story/novel format into comics for me, but I’m figuring it out w/ some amazing help coming from many different avenues. I’m grateful for all the help, support, & friendship, guys! Means a ton. There’s even a local comic con here that I’ll be attending this October & I’m planning to go to Emerald City Comic Con for the first time for my 30th birthday present in March 2020. Goal is to at least have one comic finished by then. We shall see. Hopefully I’ll be able to whip up some new cosplays for them, too! 
  1. In addition to there being an awesome comic, cosplay, gaming, & general nerdy/geeky community here in B-Ham that I’m slowly starting to connect with, there’re also great photography, filmmaking, & horror communities! With the nature, social services, family, chill hippie vibe, and everything else, it’s like I couldn’t have found a better place to move to! How fortuitous! Maybe even serendipitous 😉 There’s this exciting horror filmmaking festival here called Bleedingham & I was invited to participate this year, so we’ll see how that unfolds/manifests! I’ve always wanted to get involved in film somehow, being such a ridiculously intense cinephile, so maybe this will be that in!

    I also have been making connections with some local photographers & am super excited to have scheduled my first photoshoot in a looooong time for this weekend that’ll be horror/androg themed w/ a photographer I met in one of the FB groups! We met up for coffee & I can confirm, he’s a super awesome person as well as photographer. He dabbles in filmmaking as well & all in all, our aesthetic/stylist preferences really seem to jive, so let’s hope we work together well, too, not just get on personally ;P 
  1. I’ve also been gaming a wee bit again, though I have no consoles nor PC, so I’m playing old school point & click RPGs that my Crapbook can barely run, so I can’t even stream them, but I’ve been thinking to start doing some social streams to keep people apprised on what I’ve been up to & what my goals are for the near future. I never really got into vlogging or social streaming before, but I realized that I have a YT channel that just sits there & I can go live on various other platforms to just chat w/ everyone & let y’all know what I’m doing when I’m too tired to make full blown update posts like this. Plus the interactivity is nice. Fun chatting w/ everyone & if I had some more stability, time, energy, & regularity in my life, I really would try to catch you all when you go live more often, too. I follow so many creators, though, that it’s so hard to keep on top of what everyone’s doing & when. I see the notifications, & do my best to support in the tiniest of ways I feel able to, but please just know that I still love & support you all so much. One day, hopefully I’ll be back in the online social networking scenes with a bit more regularity again. 

~*~

SUMMER

  1. For those of you who don’t know, one of the biggest & most exciting events coming up for me this summer is that I’ll be attending a Bhakti Yoga Retreat in Santa Cruz, CA, at the very Ashram I first met the devotees of the worldwide mission & spiritual tradition I was initiated into about 8 years ago now. It was at this very temple that I received formal initiation into this ancient disciplic succession that can be traced back to the beginnings of human civilization & beyond in both a spiritual and scientific way. I became a disciple of my guru 1/1/11 after only having been hanging with the devotees for a few months, but it just felt right. I finally felt home for the first time in my life & like I’d finally met my real family who really understood & cared for me on this deeper level than I could even fathom. I’ve never been one for organized anything, religion, God, groups or communities, etc. but here I am, 8+ years later, still a member of this community & finally getting to return to my spiritual birthplace to reunite w/ my spiritual family members again after so long. I wanted to go last year to the first Govinda Mela Retreat, but wasn’t able to due to health & funds, so this year, at the behest of a friend, I made a GoFundMe, not expecting anything to come from it, but lo and behold, only 2 days after I created the fundraiser, I’d reached my goal & was able to buy my ticket to actually be able to attend this year’s festival.

    I’m still incredulous & infinitely grateful for the love & support you all have shown me when it comes to my meagre attempts at trying to progress in my spiritual practices & personal internal growth. The journey is a long & winding one, but it’s one I refuse to ever quit now that I’ve actually set my foot firmly on the path. I know it’s the right one for me. I feel it in my bones & even if I feel like I’m constantly failing at what it means to be a good practitioner, a good devotee, a good disciple to my spiritual master, I am told that this is just all part of the path & to take it all in stride. This is all part of the journey itself, so I always have to remind myself that it’s not like I’m going anywhere linearly or externally. It’s always just about going deeper into myself and continuing to face all of that crud that’s covering the mirror of my heart so that I can wipe it away & allow myself to reflect real unconditional love & light into this world instead of a perverted, warped, and filtered version of my own mental conception of it. I am truly hopeful that I may be able to participate in the festivities & activities with strength, vigor, and enthusiasm because it will mean the world to me if I’m able to at least show some real dedication to this path when I’m there in the service & association of these incredible & incomparably affectionate & beneficent personalities. Thank you so much again, everyone! 
  1. And finally, after coming back from Sri Govinda Mela in Santa Cruz, I’ll need a little downtime/recuperation time before getting back into the car & driving 14+ hours again back to Utah to get the rest of my stuff. Since it’s such a long & draining drive for me, I’m gonna plan to stay a couple of weeks to sort through all of my stuff, maybe consign some things, sell some stuff (ha, as if I have anything of value), and it would be super duper awesome if I have the time & energy to even schedule some hang outs & artistic collaborations w/ all the lovely connections & friends I still have in SLC. 

~*~

This is basically everything that I can think of right now, but let me know if you have any questions or if there’s anything you think I might’ve left out. God bless you if you actually read all of this because I know it’s a freaking essay haha. And yes, this was literally me trying to be concise. Imagine how long this would have ended up if I’d let my verbosity get the better of me. 

Once again, thank you ALL for everything you’ve done, even if it’s just been following me/staying friends with me throughout all of the bouts of oscillating manic insanity & depressed radio silence as I simply attempt to merely survive living. Your continued presence throughout these years has been immensely appreciated as the lonely goth kid who everyone shunned, abused, & abandoned repeatedly in me still wonders in awe why you do it. The weird child I was inside, trying so desperately to fit in for so long, only to just say screw it, I’ll intentionally reject society, keeping me just as lonely, but at least able to feel a bit more authentic, never in a million years would have thought it possible that there would be people from around the globe wanting to actively keep tabs on my life & work and that alone makes the fight to keep surviving this self-destructive, torturous mind & body worth it. I love you ALL so much. Seriously. I don’t say this lightly. Love is a very very sacred thing to me, but I truly do love each & every single one of you. You make life worth living, you give me hope, you inspire me, and you make me feel less lonely ❤

I know I don’t have much to give in the way of friendship or emotional support on a deeper interpersonal level because I’m already so drained trying to simply support myself, but if you ever feel seriously distraught emotionally, if you ever feel like you can’t go on, like you can’t possibly share what you’re going through because no one would believe you, understand, relate, or maybe even would just judge & ridicule you for it, I AM HERE FOR YOU. PLEASE reach out to me. I always run very low on spoons, but for one who is greatly suffering, I will do my best to scramble to find as many spoons as possible, even if they’re plastic, disposable, dirty, broken, or whatever. I’ll do whatever I can to be there to support you in that moment because I know just how horrendously difficult living in this plane of existence can be & I care more than anything else about being someone who people understand is here first and foremost to try to help make their life & the place they live in better, even if it’s just with one short convo at a time. I’m here. I’m trying. I’m doing what I can. And because of you all, I’ll never stop trying. Thank you thank you thank you ad infinitum. 

Hare Krishna! Jay Gurudev! 

I am always, eternally, & humbly your affectionate well-wisher ❤

The Descent into Hell Is Easy

My first memories…

As hard as I’ve tried to recall anything else, the first memory I can remember is from when I was younger than four years old.

We were living in Barcelona at the time, just my mother & father and me. She was all alone in a foreign country with no friends or family there and a deadbeat alcoholic Spanish maniac living off of her, squeezing everything he could out of her, and psychologically abusing her, whilst ignoring the baby in the bassinet whose mouth he’d propped a milk bottle in so he didn’t have to hear it cry as he painted in the other room.

I remember walking home with my mother at night after getting groceries. The moonlight would reflect off of the statues on top of La Casa Milà and they reminded me of gargoyles watching over everything. Of all the things in my life, they were the least frightening and actually somewhat comforting for some strange reason.

When we had reached the apartment, my mother told me to go in whilst she gather the bags or whatever she was doing. I remember being too short to reach the light switch and just standing there in the darkness wondering if my father were home. I remember calling out for him, and then suddenly falling silent as I saw something glowing in the distance.

As it came closer to me in the silent darkness of the apartment, I realized it was a skull – a silent, glowing skull floating toward me in the blackness, slowly, steadily, ever closer and closer. I remember screaming and screaming like I was going to die. Then my mom came in and turned on the light.

And then I saw my father take off a glowing skull mask, laughing and laughing like he’d just heard a funny joke. 
That’s my first memory.

Everything before and after until we moved away from Spain, before I went to kindergarten, is mostly just more black silent darkness. And I still live there how many years later. I live in this darkness that’s deafeningly silent, so quiet that there’s an echoing reverberation inside of me, all around me, at all times.

I think it’s me still screaming. Always screaming. 
Always in the darkness alone with my terror. 
To this day.

My next memory is still around that time period, and then there’s nothing more until kindergarten, when I was 5 & back in America.

Other than the memory of the glowing skull, all I remember from that time period was ‘Il Nino’ – the life-size wax head my father liked to keep in a fruit bowl on a side table surrounded by fresh fruit. He thought it was very amusing. She looked so realistic to my child eyes. I was always afraid she was going to come alive and look straight at me.

When I crept toward my parents’ room in the darkness after a having a nightmare, I would press my back into the wall and never take my eyes off of Il Nino’s head in the fruit bowl. The way the moonlight glinted off her big glass eyes made me sure she was going to blink and turn slowly to look at me at any moment.

She had real human hair and was hollow so my dad could put her atop a broomstick and wrap a sheet around it, pretending that she was a real person and dancing around the house with her shouting, “Es Il Nino! Il Ninooo!!” and cackling up a storm with some kind of perverse glee. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it disturbed me.

When I was in 1st grade a few years later, we were tasked with a creative writing assignment. I wrote a story about Il Nino which concerned my teacher so much she brought it to my mother’s attention. My father wasn’t even with us anymore, and I didn’t consciously feel there was anything to be afraid of, but there was still that lingering feeling deep down inside of me that always made me feel wrong and unsafe.

Now Booking for 2018!

Hey everyone!

I’m excited to report that I’m finally able to start booking photoshoots & scheduling event gigs again! Yay!

I like to book cosplay & con work a few months in advance, if possible, but am able to do local photoshoots & short films on 2-3 weeks notice, depending.

A list of my most recent events & work from 2017 & 2018 can be found here.
A list of my upcoming cosplays & planned events can be found here.

If you’re interested in working together, especially doing some photoshoots or short vids of my Oddleif and/or moon godlike cosplays, please contact me on Facebook with your collaboration ideas, related samples of your work & timeframes.

Thank you!
– Jax ❤

Praying is Hard

So, I want to learn how to pray to “God,” or in the Vaishnava tradition, who/what is known as/called “Krishna.”
 
And not in a mercenary way. I don’t want to pray to the Source of all sources, Cause of all causes, Reality the Beautiful, & the Sweet Absolute to GIVE me something. What more could I possibly need than to just have a connection with the very origin of existence & love itself!
 
No, I’m not trying to pray because I want or need anything, but rather because I’m trying to reach out and (re)establish a link with that eternal, infinite, benevolent root energy that is the precursor to material energy.
 
I don’t know how to address this quintessential concept that is so far beyond my realm of humanly comprehension. How does one pray to that which we are all an integral part of, that which we all come from & return to, that primordial force that animates us & enables us to perceive our subjective experiences of reality simultaneously.
 
People talk about praying to God a lot, but to attempt to conceive of what true omnipotence is, to imagine God as Consciousness WILLING material energy to temporarily manifest from the precursor energy in various forms, one tiny speck (this universe, my body as a part of it) of which I am existing within for a tiny speck of time (28-? years as Jax Bayne)… well, it’s so far beyond anything we can even write about… the PRECURSOR to sentience… the sentience quotient doesn’t even apply!
 
Words break down when you try to conceive of things that are possible within this universe, what to speak of other universes, or that which the universes came from! I understand part of the reason for the human-like form of God is to help overcome this brain-blowing awe-filled paralysis & can have a more personal relationship with said Concept (as mentioned above) but still! I find it incredibly difficult to separate the conception of God from what true omnipotence is, so it makes it really hard for me to try to pray.
 
What do you say to that which made all as it is, that which knows how everything will go because it wills it so, when things feel so predetermined, how can I formulate any prayer at all, especially when anything I DO want, I know I’m not taking the steps toward attaining in the first place. If I want a connection with Krishna, why am I not praying for that connection? If I have no other prayer, perhaps I should pray for my free will to be interfered with, because obviously, I’m the only thing standing in my way.
 
What is my prayer? Help me learn to accept the help that is always being offered? Help me to have less of an aversion to doing the things that will get me to where I want to be? I don’t even want to pray for help. It’s not that I lack motivation, because I do want to do these things, so I don’t get it. Why? How about that for a prayer… Please help me to discover why I keep avoiding what I want to do in the first place? Then maybe that’ll help me figure out how to change that behavior if I know why I keep engaging in it? Idk this all seems external to me still somehow…
 
So, yeah, long story short: when you feel like you should pray though you don’t necessarily feel like you want to & kinda don’t wanna do what you’re told/advised, and don’t even really want or need anything… what kinda prayer do you even make? o.O