the repairman

A repairman came to fix my oven. In the process, he confessed to being an empath who walks around secretly healing people. He’s still getting comfortable talking about it. After completing the repairs, he asked if we’d like him to psychically clear the room for us. I said “If you’d like”.

He sat down at the kitchen table, closed his eyes, and began taking deep breaths. Only in New Orleans. I was grateful for his originality, his desire to open up, and his lack of fear in sitting in my kitchen breathing like an pneumoniae afflicted airbender, but it took everything to stop myself from laughing. Not at him perse, just at everything. The humor of it all.

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physical location nonsense

A few years ago she said “You know what your problem is?”

I replied somewhat angrily, that hard Jersey accent momentarily slipping through, “What-”

“You’ve had to fight people your whole life.. you don’t know how to stop. Even when there’s no reason or no one left to fight, you just don’t know how to stop.”

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a year long tooth grinding wonderful dream

I took off most of this past year from creating.  It was the first time in my life I didn’t actively judge / hate / respect myself based on my creative output.  It was freedom. From myself.  I’ve experienced A LOT of life this year, something I rarely made time for in the past.

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A Tale of a Queer Prince and the Real Cost of Chicken

A U.S. Department of Justice survey shows that over 32% of arson victims are gay or bisexual.  Take a moment to absorb that number, and then factor in that only about 4% of the US population is openly gay.

However, before getting to the heart of this article, I’d like to preface with a short tale.  It’s the fantastical story of how a straight young boy from a poor home went on an epic journey to become a handsome prince of the queers.

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The Quantum Horse

The question becomes, and perhaps always has been, how can I leverage my current skills and resources to take part in the evolution of human knowledge in a way that I deem healthy and responsible for the human race?  Addendum: in a way that is healthy, responsible and prosperous for the evolution of all life.

I’m pretty sure pop music is out.  Blogging too.  The general video games industry is out as well.  So where does that leave me?  Let’s see.  I, um, have a high school diploma.  I went to programming school for a year and know my way around java.  But not so much these days.  I’m a good drummer?

If I was living in Europe I would just go to a university.  Take math.  Become an engineer.  But I live in America.  And that shit is expensive.   And I’m 15 years late to the college party.  Shit.

Ok. Let’s reevaluate this again.  I am a living entity.  I exist in a small region of the universe.  I will die very soon in the scheme of things.  I have one small spark of life.  What do I do with it?

I had some ideas a while back on merging my intellectual desires with my personal momentum as a music artist.  I’m still working on those, though sometimes “work” just means watering the garden in the back of my mind, trying to protect the seedlings until the spring arrives.  But something still doesn’t fit right.  I feel like I’m riding a horse at top speed towards a brick wall.  Revision: my horse has been painfully slow, and it refuses to change course.

The transformative power of everything

It’s easy to get lost.  The maze once seemed small.  The world: no bigger than a town or two.  You chose a path.  With a little bit of hard work you would succeed.  Like Stephen King.

Things get fuzzy quickly. When you stand in the streets of San Francisco you can see the fog rolling down.  But when it’s on you, you have no idea how close you are to being out of it.  You could be inches from escape and never know.

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