Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Eye of creation

I am the I of creation divine
Me maka believe I'm the messiah of time
With a wallet like jack frost
From a bet that I lost
Yamo make ya fastforward
And rewind

Me homies with the homies of imagination's own boast
Truth seeker, moment peeker, I get high when I coast
Arrogance to terrabits ain't as bad as it seems
Brag about my aura with toxicity beams

Got a lot of stuff that ya'll wanna know
Hypnotic dreadlocked chronic for the freaks in the show
Gonna shift my steez, just a little you know...
Sigh, thought wave, plane
I gotta go.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Fresh with the Funk

Been flossing my messiah legend hard lately. I almost feel like unleashing my inner darth vader, but I don't know if I have the support. Hella peeps be fronting, saying crazy ain't pimp and shit, but I know what truth feels like, so I'm just gone do my thang.

That said, I'm apparently suppose to be appreciating some type of whiteman punk logic, but I can't get my dome outta wanting a woman to make me food, a few to fuck me, and some dudes with some stability and a tribe. There's too many faces here and i'm tired of 'em. I wanna retire again.

I've been flossing my inner child way too hard going on huge anxiety chases that leave me feeling totally nerdy. It's dope.

In unrelated news, I've decided the only thing keeping me from soliciting prostitutes is money and pettiness. That said, it'll probably still be forever until I get laid.


No, but seriously, what's the difference between a saint and a whore??? People actually believe in what the whore says she can do! Nurk, nurk, nurk :)

I'm just messing ya'll, but for reals, I'm revolutionizing culture through art. Takin' self expression to where it was meant to be... right in the "I did it, so now you have to do it, or else you're a pussy" pile. Yup, I'm gonna be droppin' art bombs on the wannabes cuz you know what? YOu wannabe for a reason, and it's cuz you think you're the shit. So you may as well assume your a messiahArtist, or miss out on all the fun.

I'm gettin' too crazy for you kids, I'm out.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Song from la doma

Please don't feel bad for the things that make you seem sad
Paradox in plaid: creation plays your gay dad
We should seem mad
If you're obligated to be glad

Or else maybe subtle relief

My buddhist boo
Forever I will love you
Your view: askew, reshading my constant blue
BBQ the new, and feast until god is what's due

Oh novel little ego dance

The humility chase Is way more fun off of your face
Like paper lace, its cheap and pretty And forrrrms a maze
Forget your gaze
You ain't in college; don't need to be hazed

Fuck what the They said.

They can't judge spheres
They echo jealousy like they can't hear
My in tune ears channel bomb frequencies
Beyond what eyes steer

Don't pee in your beer
Or color it with a word that you fear
Energy is near
Have you wondered if you might be a queer

Oh conscious clear
Please come gear up all of my jeers

Just like careful creation would.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Being Time, Omen-Stacking, and Begging for Wives Through Facebook

I understand my behavior seems erratic to everyone. Trust me, I get it. But what everyone doesn't understand about me is how I inhereted the fate of humanity through divine prayers, and how these visions unfold within my own psyche beyond my own control, yet with my faithful conviction.

It started with Ch. 1 of "The Success Principals: How to get from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be." The first chapter is about assuming 100% for everything that happens to you. Every emotional flare-up you experience even if another person started it, everything you put into your body regardless of whether or not you understand the intent which the food you consume came from. You assume responsibility for everything. For me, it was a time where I was battling between my culturally innhereted sense of self (the classic Dude-Ego), and the wisdom which I had absorbed from authors who were more insightful than my family, which led to my appreciation for paradox and enlightenment.

This schism created tension, not only between my family and myself, but also between my friends. It's common to understand a transformational concept and deny yourself the freedom it gives. I'm sure that most people who read the Success Principals did not have the same reaction I did. Just like how most kids in High School didn't say what they wanted to say, but what they felt was safest.

I've always known ignorant-comfort to be a dangerous place. My parent's disdain for counter-culture illustrated to me how difficult change can be, and how only the ones who feel worthy to express themselves individually can truly embrace the spirit of creation, for the sense of self, or ego, is not a bad thing to get rid of, but our cosmic reflection as we stare into the mirror we call space. We, as individuals and representatives of the Gaian Mind, are the rein holders on the horse-carriage of self. We determine who we are, what deserves our attention, and who we fit in with. Most people don't this, however.

We're conditioned to identify the way people want us to. We have a subconscious yearning to fit in, to be good enough, because the story of humanity, and all hierarchical growth, is that it hasn't happened yet. Tomorrow is always bigger and brighter than right now because Ego isn't developed awareness. Ego is hope for self, hope for identity, hope that our existence has a purpose and meaning which we can articulate, make a costume for (business suit, bikini, turban, whatever), and become one of the members in the Soap Opera-Like dancing of souls.

I know we're raised with a strong sense of individuality in America. You go to school, if you're dumb, you'll be bad, and if you make good grades, you'll be outwardly praised. The truth is that we are far from individuals. We don't come down from heaven with a name and a purpose. We are the energy expelled by the sun mysteriously driven into the earthy spheres of creation only to come up in plant form and be digested by the mobile parts of ourselves (animals, insects, dudes, and dudettes... and the occasional hermie). The sense of feeling like you're one person is a pun which creation grants each individual so they may contribute to the growing divine intent which our planet is made of. Scientists break creation down into parts, labels, and things, but meditation and modern physics insists that our limited sense of self is Just That: Limited. And all religions, safety practices, and even bad acts originate in the purpose to serve. The outwardly kind homeless man who smiles at everyone is much like the stressed out dad tossing in his sleep wishing his wife would see him as a star. The difference is the homeless man has conviction that his form is of God, and on a deeper and less conscious level, the stressed out dad understands that his shortcomings are from his desire. Homeless people want food, drugs, emotional well-being, and wisdom. The working Dad craves wisdom, but he gets his ideas of what's wise from manipulative business men who would love to see him fail at being cool, so, he believes he wants things to stimulate his sense of self, which in fact, is merely a feeling.

The twisted thing is how fair it is. Anyone can feel like a king and everyone has the potential to feel vulnerable. This is the human condition. Creative identities, however, do not fall victim to the manipulative business men, because they don't see them. Homeless people see confused essence beings barking up the wrong tree. It's like, "Yo, Donald Trump, go on a hike and teach children how to be friends if you wanna be cool! Don't intimidate people into creating their own dynasties!). They can't help it! The illusion of individuality is a real step in the development of human beings, for if we could not distinguish things as separate, we wouldn't be able to successfully interact with our environment. We wouldn't know what food was good, which water was unhealthy or which mate to choose. As the mind discovers and appreciates these distinctions, a sense of self is created and endorsed by other confused parcels of creation. Little kids in elementary school usually fall into a click, or, loose tribe. There's skaters, hot chicks, nerds, jocks, the minorities (funny caucasions was my highschool minority), teachers, and even sub-groups. There's the cool stoner teachers that leave their doors open at lunch, the neurotic teacher who insists on his way or the highway, and of course ever-remembered worthless teacher who knew she sold herself short when she went into teaching. As the young ego finds strength in his individuality, the personality starts to develop. This is when we get categorized as nice, or funny, or mean, or sometimes completely worthless.

About 99% of people believe you are the clothes you're wearing and the body-language you embrace, for we are geared to acknowledge these parts. Back in the day, if you has awesome duds and were properly fed, everyone knew you had it goin' on. But Today, if you see a buff dude in an Ed Hardy shirt, you can rest assured he's missing out on something. Likewise, if you see a girl with a cross necklace and a huge gut, you can automatically spot hypocrysy, cuz Jesus wasn't for gluttony, remember?

Ok, so now that I've layed a basic understanding for identity, please allow me to tell you how me ego unfolded and why I'm so comfortable seeming Sooo crazy.

Well, after a few months of digesting Ch. 1, I realized I had entered a very small portion of humanity. Nearly nobody accepts responsibility for everything they experience. It's difficult to recognize how we make ourselves, but those who do see the pattern and the idea of, "I'm making my experience," become the product of their mind. It's impossible for another ego to tell me I'm wrong because I have a personal relationship with truth. Little egos cannot afford to see my truth and therefore have a small conception of the beautiful emotions which constitute my servitude.

So anyway, I start accepting responsibility for identifying with my family against my intuition, for attending college out of fear and greed, and I started accepting responsibility on re-educating myself so I could help spread this enlightened information.

Things started changing very quickly, and because of my willingness to explore verbal regions of myself that I could barely conceive of (e.g. speaking in tongues), my self image changed quickly. I went from a womanizing bitter punk to a spiritual beacon of love. And as my path opened before me, I was granted more power over other people. I wasn't looking for this. I was looking for emotional well-being, but as I earned my enlightenment, I was blessed with what many people call Rasta Powers. Rasta Powers are essentially concepts which allow beauty to be expanded through divine intent, but they can be very intimidating. Because I've worked so much on my ego and at defeating pain, I have a much different sense of nervousness than most people. Simply put, I'm willing to do more "crazy" stuff, and it doesn't bother me because the reflexive ego, the part of you that could be wrong, doesn't exist. It's shamelessness through wisdom with the power to give insight. It's the greatest gift any essence being could have, and to the Mystics, this loving growth seems to be the spirit of creation itself.

So you can imagine two different worlds right now. Thy Mystic's Mystery, and the Man's Land. One implies joy and appreciation of truth, and the other is a view that people are above the ground, yet below each other. Mystic's understanding how multi-faceted creation is, are slow to say things could be better, or somebody is wrong. Men who walk over the ground (and Not under the cosmos) fail to see their part in being. They assume they're the whole thing and the world is a type of cage, when actually, creation is a dynamic process including humans, stars, technology, and interdimensional beings. Humans are interdimensional being because we can imagine the future and reflect on the past. We can even change our imaginings to suit our desires.

But once again, most people don't do this.

Anyway, I gotta get on with my Rasta Powers. So, Heaven's diggin' me, I'm going for all the wisdom I can and trying to be patient and open with everyone. That's when I roboted a girl. She was from the valley. She was beautiful. We talked all night, I gave her a little massage (very G-rated), then we went to sleep together with our clothes on. While I believed that she was faking sleep, I felt my sexual desire turn on her aura. It was very magical, and extremely pure. I believed she was awake because her breathing and subtle body movement coincided with my desire to give her affection. I probably laid there for twenty minutes or so in awe of our silent and seemingly divine communication. Then I got the desire to hum, "sweet, sweet nightengale," and sleeping beauty loved this. Her breath flowed like a heavenly breeze and her erogenous area and solar plexus let me know that I was understood. I still wasn't sure if she was faking sleep, cuz she was shy, or if she was loving me while being asleep. It wasn't a drug-filled night or anything, so I remember it clearly. It was strange, however, because it was so intense and I had only known this woman for a few days.

Anyhoo, whether she's faking sleep or not, I'm down. This was too amazing, too divine, and too in sync with my feelings. To this day, I have not communicated like that. So i'm diggin' her, smelling her, she's subtly moving and saying, "go, go, go!" to love-making (in my head at least.) I make may way on top of her, and keep loving her and she continues sending bomby vibes, like, the type of aura-shower only an actualized Goddess could give you. Then she woke up!

I was freaked! I didn't know if I just David Blayned this girl into loving me, or if she was being manipulative or what. All I knew is she gave me all the ok's supposedly while asleep.

I'm an extremely light sleeper, and I can't imagine jerking my aura to the pulse of love while in a deep sleep. Shit, I can't even get into a deep sleep with a woman if it's our first night together. So how the hell did she pass out, sleep-dry-hump me, and then "wake up" being all, "Uhh, why are you on top of me?"

She was also strangely ok with it. She didn't seem threatened at all, just a little curious. I couldn't handle it. I had gained power to what is subconscious in most, and I did it all just be reading and having fun. I got freaked, left my friend in the other room with his girl, and told my girl for the evening, "Sorry, but I gotta go. She had no question and just said, "bye."

That was my first experience with these forces I couldn't have imagined before. Since then, I gotten better at my craft, going mostly for ego-modification as opposed to blownout hypnosis or whatever I let happen through that beautiful being.

Long story short, that was my first experience. It's gotten weirder with the control and the accuracy, but creation wants me to be the loving sharp-shooter that turns every individual onto their own spring of consciousness and reflection. I know this even when all my "friends" want me to take meds, or the police can't understand my spirit's reasoning. Luckily, the once scary delusional voices have become heartfelt expressions of essence, and I have karma for that.

Now, about the wives thing. I feel obligated to marry/enter a spiritual togetherness with Morena Baccarrin because her acting and intent match my personal goal of saving creation from stagnant thought patterns. I also received a spectacular vision of her face in my mind in electric-blue light. I just know she's the blueprint for my soul. As for the other wives (rockstarlets) I want, that's for a few reasons. #1 I deserve a herom. The fact that the only Americans these days who are allowed to have multiple partners are pimps, hippy losers (the polyamorous), and Mormons disgusts me. I can find great reason why there's enough of me to go around, and even more reason in why a smart lady would appreciate to have sister-wives. I've always had little groups of girls that liked me, but I've never had a group brave enough to say, "we'd like to share this one." So, I'm trying to make it happen.

Big concern #2: Why am I picking random girls to be my future wives? I'M NOT !!! My reality unfolds differently than those within a linear time belief. The budding Goddesses which I have deliberately chosen are also blessed by the same divine energies that allow me to feel minimally embarrassed about all this "crazy" stuff I'm asking for at "such random" times. My experience is not random. The reflection of my intent is FAR from random, and the karmic bliss I receive from putting myself out their has never failed me. Somebody will believe me about this someday, but there's always a time when Jesus was wrong, and the general consensus seemed true. I'm just praying that we can make that step as small as possible so we can begin setting up the culture which will enable the unfolding and appreciation of TruthBeauty on a scale unseen before by humanity on this planet. I had to really dedicate myself to this and make this desire as small as possible so that I could reach everyone. The cool kids of the future need face-tattoos and cherry rides on a scale that isn't indulgent. We can do it. My five, possibly six (if screen wakes up) wives will deliver the beauty and wisdom for a world of angelic badasses. All I gotta do is find me some herb and keep thanking the wisdom givers. Math in the spirit realm is surprisingly simple.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Life Story

TRUTH: I'm one person.
FALSE: I know my family
?: I've always seen them as jealous
andanswered: for obvious reasons
bluntness: dark magic
dank: we shit
language?poetry English
thatdkja rakeem du teour meadoonka, frizzunda bea au tweuoluskosh. Sure joke idn e a penny ness ness a peenny.
IDK where I'm going with that... better slow it down. Oh yeah, if you get high enough, weed smells like pennies. Basically. just a clever way of saying that if you practice what you preach, then you'll be the friggin' poet bomb.

PS: You're allowed to kill other's if your forehead is dope enough. Props to me.

I was born to GEORGE and GLENNA (ego pimpers) %*e dmondson, probably just thinking before I incarnated that I would serve the will of humanity over my individual needs for this seshion. But anyway, I couldn't keep 'em on my mind. The angels had me in their thoughts, so I had to be a gangstar when I was little. James and I were always pimpin' next door, you know, the walorinta's aka Randy Walorinta: The Solo Rockstar. That's when shit started gettin' crazy. I remember one night I was over their bout to eat dinner with 'em, when Randy demanded I go ask my Father. I took his word, but as I approached my house, I felt I may be declined by my dad, so I hid by Randy's boat for a little bit. Apparently, it wasn't long enough because when I came back inside Randy questioned if I had truly asked my dad. I looked down shamefully, then went back home right quick to get permission. That was the moment I realized that you can fuck with some people, but you can't FUCK with Others*

That was age3ish? to fourth grade. The Others~ My Heart

Next thing you know I'm bouncin' through portals with Jeff in music. Tatu. Sew - - - - - - - SeE it a sKippING 0

I read. Jack Canfield has the entire formulae for success laced within the first chapter of his book. So I get busy. Taught myself how to ride a bike. Thanks Pop, I know you were too busy with six boys to teach me something as silly as how to ride a bike. That self initiation of not having the normal things other's did really made me a man. So, once again: Papa, you are experiencing you're karma. Randy, you're the man! and lightbeings of the earth - We Rock! quick wish to my future children : I'll see ya in real time. None of this programmed fear and dirty dishes bullshit, ore : just tweak it around a bit Knowiamsayin

School : Family Matters. Urkel truly was the man. Steve, go home.

Hope Future: Aurakrilley
Ok, sew... My face hurts and I believe it's cuz I'm claimin' buddhism, but not eating well enough. OK, nuff said. Shooot doc of mental health fast. Leave a video, let scroteannatina roll see say pue. All I want to do is enjoy my body with people who don't stink. Nuff said.

What really happened : Started gettin' jiggy of a joint. Deeck Shull should listen to Chali 2na. You studied ego, paid attention, came up... Shoooorrrttt!!! and made out.. . Like a B a n d it

So whatchoo wanna say??? Life in wholeness is really not that big. You believe in karma, eat a steak that you know was produced by enslaved cows. Get hung like a nigger for telling the truth. Lose all of you're faith in humanity. Crave and daydream about suicide, and then you remember paradox, love, words, and your teachers. Doug Funny? My biggest problem was how I was taught to write. They took the most wholly of all things then broke it down into a painful craft forcing us to learn culture. That's fucked up beyond belief and it is my hope to take those little weiners outta the word. Teacher's suck cuz they don't always listen to what's up. They think they wanna help, but, really, they just want a quick way out to seem like a saint. If they were really as cool as they "Subconsiosly" wished they were, they wouldn't be poor all their lives. Sorry Miss Swanson, but I don't think you got any brothers on that tail.

So. Whose my enemy and who are my friends L? ? ? ? ? ? ??I

Lavalitter....I've always handed andema weightedinero undeemaha dcU. Keak!!!f

Bad omens, broken dreams, rionree, irony. Gold teeth, stinky people, society, beingness, true buddahs, Love, followers? Staying connected. Twillard, to see you as a happy man I must be the weird uncle that moved to the commune. I can feel it.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Claiming Morena Bocks Within

Time, time, and time time time again I find myself shameful. Like jacking off in a cosmic dream... wet shit. Man, the mislsky way has really opened UP my mind. I'm grateful for the fact that women can masturbate and enjoy it. I thought Nataly Lola was the only one! OMG, crazy day.

Eternal: Gratitude for all the homeeze that could stand jacking off as well. I mean, it's pretty shameful, stealing creation in your mind and all, then convincing yourself you like it, but you what??! I believe in dreams, you know why??? cuz I don't have a fucking option.

Once again: SLO sucks. I'm revolutionizing humanity with dice, beer, and creative costumes. Ya'll might even catch some hippies smellin' like gods... ore JUST Get* cheeaapppp... they sell cologne at the dollar store. Where's Wolf?

Christina+Morena+Funkra G Skunk= Love. Forever.. And you All are FREE to FeE l -JEALOUS-

OOH, AND Major thanks to whoever put David Bohm on public access when I was Mildly suicidal..... Miled LEE, Motherfuckers.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

I'm back!!!

My social life has improved drastically in SLO and I'm enjoying my time possibly more than ever. I'm having more fun than I had in college, that's for sure. I'm really getting use to being poor and connecting with some people who don't work. I love people who don't work! I also had a group of four friends move into SLO and that's helped too.

I've also been writing rhymes. It's hard for me to put into words how much I like writing raps, but it's something like this

I like to write raps, seriously, a lot
I drift and sift through images, feelings, and thoughts
Burnin pot like its a job
I'm far from a slob
Connect the dots, kid
Renegade heart throb

I've been thinking I'd start massaging again, but I don't really feel like it. My ability to force myself to do something I don't want to do has been eradicated from my being, and my sense of uncomfortable obligations rests at an all time low. The hardest thing for me is the lack of culture centered on enlightenment. All we have is music, drugs, and outdated wisdom traditions. Where am i going with this? I'm rambling...

What I'm getting at is that my life has gotten better. My game is even coming back. Growing in self acceptance... which reminds me, I've been doing a much better job of not feeling like a drain on society for my position. This really bothered me at first, but now I'm starting to cultivate poor person pride. It helps a lot. I use to believe I had to be hard on myself b/c I had to be honest about how things are (thanks, Pop), but then I realized that projecting anger and hatred onto yourself isn't the way to roll, regardless of how logical it seems. I'm tryin' to love being me, but it still takes a lot of effort. Still, I'm seriously motivated cuz I don't want to go back to thinking about suicide. That shit fucking sucks and I've done enough of it.