The Sock-Monkey As Alone

 Just a short paragraph or two update.    I have called the crisis center three times in the last two weeks. and I have found a new technique that seems to help with my intrusive/compulsive thoughts called grounding. I have found a way to shut down my problematic compulsions that have overwhelmed me for the last few weeks. and generally feel better. I am back at work on my boards games and books as of the last two days and may share the rules to one of the board-games called Green and Purple in the next few months with the art assets so you can print and play it. I am also starting the first revision of my novel's first episode Annunaki: or, the current ugliness. and will definitely share it as a separate post on here instead of updating the old one. If only because I find that I in my first attempt at letting my metaphorical hair down has been satisfying. Some writers take out in revision but I seem to layer clay onto the skeleton I am going to start writing on it again in the nex

  "I am hope" - Dream the eternal.   In the dark, I sit trying to stop thinking my mind has gone as far as it can in this direction, and I am doing my best.   For whoever cares enough to read this, my mind is snapping, repeating, obsessing, and I am doing my best.   My heart is broken because I have to continue changing. Yet, I can't see the light at the end of this tunnel that has been so long. I am tired, but I have to keep going, even if it is just a compulsion. I don't deserve good things in my life. I don't deserve anything. Luckily it does not matter.   Yet, I was still fighting off the compulsion to dwell in apathy when I saw hope in my reflection. I couldn't recognize my face: my balding head, the grey beard. I just saw a tired old man looking back at me. There is not much left, and what there is will be forgotten—the devils hiding off in the windows down the corridors of my mind. I know what they want, and I do my best to deny them.

Repentance of former sins From death bed to where joy begins Of all that was said to dearest friends  And bitter enemies at destructions end Can you except those bounderies  Can you in your heart Find places to forgive yourself  To do what is right And stop asking for help To let the past be forgotten And the pleasure of rhetoric be your new joy As seen in your minds eye To acknowledge what was said And let truth bring a new breath From former lives and there deaths

Say your prayers one, two and three Counting forward into infinity The knots are tight and perfect for prayers But in time they wither to decay The cross in my hand a reminder of judgment day I have been thinking I don't like myself Trapped inside the demons den of thoughts of bondage coercion and sin Where do they come from? The very essence of my soul  I am tired and have been done in  By decisions most would call my own But they come from the same direction as the judgment  From God's hand yet we suffer the repercussions But sara I am sorry For all the bad songs Sara i am sorry  for the places i have gone

Have you ever loved someone...you see them regularly. Not as much as you want but enough to hurt. Enough to try to be better but knowing that has nothing to do with how little they care. With how little you mean to them. You can't talk about the one thing that is on your mind because you want to respect there bounderies. You have to say something and can't use there name because you made a promise. I have so many delusions...I tried to save the universe and all I was is a crazy man pacing in his room talking to his radio. But i laid in that bed not eating for most of a year trying to change my fate and how I perceived the world. I almost died for hope. I lay there feeling my body shutting down and none of it makes since. Not what I did. Not what I am doing. Not how I feel. Not anything. The people I have talked to who know me laugh and have said that I was trying to make the newer testament. And you know what today I reached a point feeling ok. Ok with my failings a

For all I have found distant in the mirage Vertigo stares back defiantly Remembering when I was to bold When I thought I loved you sufficiently  As the retort of some prior instigation  walks in and slaps me on my face I feel an echo ripple through the stars the world is hard and reminds me of my place yet stand not amazed in his grace yet stand not amazed in the comparison for the language is old and the burden great from former souls to new lessons from simplicity of radio songs to the complexity of the new aeon he whispers would you love me before we laugh at the peak of tragedy

Where is the vindication... Our forebears did not know best To the whim of every new inclination  To stare at the eagles Crest. Where shallow torrents create new names But old ideas remain unchanged  As down the path that leads to rome The shadows swallow us into the unknown The dream eternal of one last rewind Born in a place where even dreams die But so we are after each thought That dream is not a thief  yet we were taught  To live our lives as if seeking  what was lost

Yoko taro games speak to me. Nier and nier automata are two of my favorite works of art in any media. This blog post will not be about the games or the man so much as on some of the ideas they have inspired in me. "He who see's the teaching see's me. And he who see's me see's the teaching." The Buddha. Compassion should be cultivated. Compassion should be clung to. "Love your neighbor as you love yourself" said the Christ.  Yet we live in a world of opposition and hostility. We live in a world of impermanence and death. There is tragedy to how much we must suffer on such a primitive level. On how much we must look before we ever see the light.  I am anxious and I am afraid but deep down I know that is alright. Deep down I know looking at the fear and telling it you are safe to be afraid I won't judge you anymore. The fear becomes comfortable but not numb to its self. "I have been wounded by the joy of the world and I have been lo

Oh tender kiss of an absent scene I can believe what I have seen. World take you from me or share with joy Just knowing is enough for the boy. But men surrender to an escape  Founded on lust, an insurrection on hate. Where what tender news is to be brought To those who serve the thief that was caught... In service of passions overwrought To stand alone at the innocent gate. To tell myself nothing is gained, but all is lost. As I pledge to wisdom's name, yet clinging to the weight of something confessional yet sinister as her name.

A lake of stars holding dreams. My mind wanders to a child like place so serene. Where innocence is feeding crickets to spiders. And I as the liar climb each rung higher. Looking back as the whisper sings on four more years that weren't worth remembering... But as each day of failure is gone. To feel the joy of a world that has moved on.