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Playing With Fire

I was six or seven when clinically diagnosed as a pyromaniac. My first “fire school” session we all were assigned a few images to assess the probable cause of a theoretical disaster, which assumedly ended horrifically with cinders scented of singed hair and disbelief.

My photos were of half-melted little plastic soldiers, a gas can, hot dogs, and a child’s party hat; you know, the one with the drawstring poorly threaded through two holes in a flimsy cardboard cone. How is a six year old meant to dissect such a collection of arbitration?

Without a moment of hesitation, I began to pen down a narrative (in red ink, which the “fire-safety” groupies just love). I couldn’t tell you what it was about or why that moment inadvertently derailed my therapy session for a much larger portrait that was yet to be canvased. I just recall feeling as if these people were lying to themselves. My single digited perception of moral reasoning told me undoubtedly that I was the only one in that uncomfortably chilled room who knew what I was.

A child. An early-stage psychopath in the making. A Pyromaniac (which goes without saying). Sage and storyteller? That was new to me. The serenity felt from casting objective existence into ash and carbon would have its shadow multiplied exponentially when compared to the verbal imagery that my young mind would create from an otherwise mundane moment in time.

In the eight minutes it could minimally take a double-wide mobile home to incinerate completely into a “was,” I would have written a sonnet for Ifrit, detailing the lavish cracks, pops, and whirring of heat pressure reaching out at my face like a newborn in its first months.

Suddenly, I evolved. I was once the matchstick, giving the gift of impermanence liberally, but now I was the gift! Writing became my fire and I would use it to illuminate ideas, incinerate my fears, cremate anger, and otherwise facilitate a reasonably healthy mode of internal release.

Am I still a pyromaniac? Well… Not erratically.

Energy, Frequency, Vibration: Part I

Can you hear it? The hum that seems to never cease? The ringing in your ear that you don’t always notice, but can’t seem to shake once you do?

The universe is constantly vibrating, as well as everything in it. In fact, it’s more appropriate to say “everything in the universe is vibration.” It’s what holds everything together, in a manner of speaking. At the atomic level, atoms give and take electrons between one another to balance their individual stability.

This seems irrelevant to us, because we can’t really see it in action on a regular basis. The thing is… You DO see it in action, constantly! This is because, well… you exist! You’re here to read this text, which means that you haven’t broken apart at the atomic level!

Sure, it’s easy to claim such a thing with no hard evidence. Yet, the proof is in the research, and in the implementation. Think of Hiroshima; that is the result of splitting atoms. When you break the vibratory structure, you create a vibration that is infinitely more disruptive.


Nikola Tesla, has been a common reference in many modern scientific works. He can be noted for giving us the ability to take things for granted such as GPS, and wireless charging. Things that, truthfully, should have been available to the public ages ago.

While we may not have been able to enjoy Wardencliffe Tower, in those days, we can still be astounded by his research. The things that he was certain of, as if they were simply common knowledge, would still change the world even today.

One such discovery, was the electrical grid that the planet created. The atmosphere holds a large amount of electrical charge, and this is evident in multiple ways, but the fascinating thing is how it moves! It isn’t free flowing as you might think, but rather controlled by the Earth’s polarity.

This is what Tesla hoped to achieve with Wardencliffe Tower, was universal free energy, pulled directly from the Earth, as it truly is a generator of sorts. I digress…

That same electrical grid is part of what keeps those vibrations in tune. The electromagnetic frequencies surging through the atmosphere, are what I personally believe, give us conscious experience. That too, is digressing lol

Did you know you could listen to certain frequencies, and benefit from them? You could also be hindered by them! There are specific tones that resonate with your bodies nervous system, which are the vibratory equal to therapeutic massage.

I started to work with these frequencies, and even started recording them very recently. They do wonders for the meditation sessions. They are more commonly known as “Solfeggio frequencies.”

Check the YouTube video below! If you think I’m onto something, give it a “like” while you’re there!

Beyond Literature

A true artist never calls a specific canvas “the one,” because that puts ceilings on their abilities.

The following is a gallery of just a few of the things that I’ve built with my bare hands.. well… And tools. You get the point. Check it..

My First Blade

To make a very long story short, a friend of mine piqued my interest in bladesmithing. So I did just that.

I loved the kukri style of blade; highly efficient as both a tool and a weapon. What it lacked (imo) was the gut hook, which I implemented, as you can see. It’s the only kukri I’ve ever seen with one.

This was my first attempt at blade/blacksmithing. Not too shabby.

For Family

Easily my all-time favorite work. Before my grandma rejoined the cosmic waters, I commissioned her a cane, that had the lyrics to the Sound Of Music carved into it. It was beautiful.

At her funeral, my great aunt asked if I could finesse her a similar piece. So I started on it.

The original was Brazilian cherry, but was slightly longer than she could comfortably use. So I told her I would shorten it up a bit…

I got the proper measurements, then I ordered a piece of actual Gabon Ebony, that measured somewhere in the 46″ range, and was 2″×2″. It was quite expensive, but well worth it. I never ordered anything but Ebony after working with it this one time.

Trade secrets are meant for tradesman, and that’s all that needs said. Needless to say, the look on my aunt’s face made it worth the effort. I look forward to commissioning another.

The Ham

It began as the front of a Durango chassis. Cut into ten or so pieces, then welded firmly together to form the solid fourteen pound block. Fourteen pounds doesn’t seem like much, until it’s on the end of a three foot handle.

I won’t divulge too many trade secrets, but this was easily one of my favorite works, to this day.

Lightweight Highly Illegal

An “acquaintance” of mine asked if I could fit his late father’s sawed off double barrel with a fore-grip and a handle, and I obliged him.

In Ebony, of course.

The inner workings of the primer pin mechanisms were difficult to “relieve” into the pieces that I carved out, but it came together relatively nicely. It also didn’t take his hand off, thankfully!

Skirts Are For MEN!

This was fun, I won’t lie. A leaf spring from a pickup truck, took a week of heating and annealing to straighten out. Peep the video below for the ultimate final product!

Grip carved from Ebony… Of course.

So this is the testament to my blacksmithing skills. This enormous fucking sword could literally dig into concrete without so much as scratching the finish on the blade.

Where you see nuts and bolts was finalized with brass pins, which were ball peen hammered until mushroomed to a tight squeeze.

Lucille’s Much Bigger Brother

⅜” holes drilled accordingly, followed by epoxy, followed by manifold studs that protruded approximately 1 ½”.

Another “lightweight Highly Illegal” work. Swinging it is as simple as hitting a high slider; it’s removing the bat from the “ball” that becomes an issue… 👀

I MAY add more, we’ll see. For now, I think you’ve had enough.

“Bad Kid” Reading Material

Peaceful Pill Handbook is the “pro” side of the euthanasia debate. A lot of interesting things in there. DiosRaw prompted this entire post, as a matter of fact. My gift to you, homie! Werd!

Ok… As a disclaimer, I will go on record saying DON’T TRY THE SHIT YOU READ IN THIS BOOK! However, I have tried a few things from it and… most of them work. Badass book! Perfect stocking stuffer for a thirteen year old delinquent!

Kali is the computer operating system used by the worlds leading penetration testers. In other words, this is a hackers bible. You can download Kali Linux free of charge, but you can’t attain the source code due to the fact that Offensive Security (the writers of the OS) refuses to allow open source versions of their masterpiece. For good reason. Shit is dangerous!

Ok, I know how it sounds, but this is the real deal! You can do a simple Google search to verify its authenticity! This debriefing entails the assigned officers experiences and discoveries, which… frankly, they are astounding. Did he lose his mind, or is it true? You decide. Personally, I think he found the secrets to the universe! This was presented to the commanding officer in 1983, and we’re only now figuring out that the universe is likely a simulated laser show. This one is a bit of a rabbit hole, so thinkers beware!

More To Come At A Separate Never Ceasing “Now.”

Generational Evolution

Two-thirds of your Life is accounted for…

A third of most days devoted to working and a third to sleep (assuming you sleep as recommended). This leaves you a third to live as you choose.

Yesterday, I turned thirty. I didn’t celebrate, or even so much as get out of bed until dusk. I laid for the entirety of the day and dreamt more times than I could count. In fact, I dreamt so much that when I was fully conscious finally, I had to test my psyche to be sure I was really awake!

Lingering R.E.M sensations are always the best. On par with what I can only assume it must feel like to be freshly deceased without the fractal geometry; assuming there is any sensation at all to be felt.

It’s a curious thing, aging… When I was a kid, I was stoked to get older and just know things, you know? Like what it means to find your purpose. As I progressed through the levels and barely was able to conquer the boss stages, I started to realize that no one has the cheat codes. No one could give you a walkthrough on any level, because each level was entirely different for every individual playing the game.

Some food for thought:

We can only know as much right now as the current collective allows. Meaning that, you’ll die with less of a logical answer to life than a fifteen year old has a hundred years from today. The reason for this is simple; because science and understanding have an exponential rate of growth.

Less than a decade ago, we thought that black holes were only science fiction, even though Einstein’s theories allowed for the possibility of their existence. Then one morning, I swiped right on my home screen to see the current events and there it was; in all of its glory, a real visual of a real black hole!

Try to imagine living during the Dark Ages, when it was considered heresy to perform post-mortem incisions for the benefit of science, yet it was perfectly reasonable to burn people alive if enough people thought they were fairy tale creatures. It was perfectly reasonable to cut a man in half for believing in the same god, a different way. I suppose that’s still a thing, isn’t it?

Now imagine how mind blown a sixty year old (rare for that time) would feel if they were thrusted forward in time, to sit in on a fourth grade science class. Hell, a sixty year old today would probably feel pretty mind blown…

Best timeless advice for Life:

“Row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily; life is but a dream…”

Eliphalet Oram Lyte

An Experiment

I decided to attempt to write a poem using only one letter per line, never reusing a letter. This is the result. The photo is what happens when I run out of ink and I have the irresistible urge to continue writing.

Enjoy!

Flee far from fictitious foundation

Lest liars lay lorn lore…

Smell singed skin scented sorrow

Under uterine ulcers until untimely unknowns

Cast callous consequence conjuring cadaverous conundrums…

Tears trickling trails turn trepidation to tyranny

Via villainous vulpine viewpoints vexing viscous vats

Of our oily organic ovum ovulating over ocular oddities…

Zen zombie zoo’s…

Elusive eyes envy every effort ending either etiquette et erudite edification…

Although arduous, attentive as all astrological awe allows

We will wage war where wicked wit wades whirling water whirlwinds…

Prayers predict perilous perdition per poverty

Quickly quandaries quake quite questionable query

Hindering humble homesteads holding hostilities high…

Dystopian destruction deals dystrophic damnation dutifully…

Guerilla groups ghost grotesque governmental gods

Justice jolts jaded jury

X-Day xenogenesis

Yesterday yields yin-yang yearning

Beautiful bare breasted bodies boast budded bouquets

Nested near nurturing nubile nipple nectar…

Monstrous man-made monoliths

Ruined rapturous, regurgitating red roses

Kissing knowledgeable kin, killing kids

Inside inconclusive incremental insanity…