Last night I had a bad dream.

and this morning I pulled the “Dream” oracle card reversed. Dream is the oracle property for the Poppy plant, which when reversed, symbolizes addiction, loss of touch with reality, materialism, obsession, unintentionality, and temptation. 

I had asked the cards what innate quality I should access in order to find inner peace. Perhaps, it's about coming face to face with my subconscious demons. I can only think to leap in the literal direction, which suggests doing some dreamwork to put a mirror to the face of my ego. 

Writing Prompt: When am I pursuing false ideals for the sake of vanity or personal growth?

• my attachment to “non-monogamy” because I don't want to look like someone who needs someone else
• “i am a full time musician”. I am not anything full-time; I am many things always. 
• “i am perfect and never wrong”. I am flawed, but open to learning and growing. Like every other human being on this planet, I don't know anything. 

Nature is completely renewed by FIRE

When I was a child, a boy with seemingly a lot of power called me "ugly". On a separate occasion, he told me that I couldn't sing. This was on the night that I played the lead in the school musical and sang my first solo. 

On both occasions, I believed him. I identified with those thoughts early and let them dictate my understanding of my talents thereafter. All this time, I've thought I was free. 

When I'm told that I am beautiful, I struggle to accept it. When I'm told that I can sing, I laugh to myself. 

When I can separate from myself, I can see my talents, as tangible things gloating on the space above me. They surround me, but they are not me. 

On a profound level, the teachings are touching very significant areas for me - the areas of self-love, direct communication, manifestation, will, desire, ego, psychological death, and spiritual ascension. 

Of course on the surface my ego looks to be steeped in darkness, lust, perversion, but if i'm to zoom out and use the ego to my advantage, to treat is as my slave, not my master, then I can see, with great clarity, the power I have to claim by purely examining it. 

To examine it would be to begin the process of freeing myself from past conditioning, and from the fables of childhood. 

observe 

the nature of it as though it’s a wild animal in a forest 

watch it 

get to know its patterns 

and remember God 

nothing will happen to you 

everything will be fine 

the universe doesn’t give you anything you can’t handle 

with these ordeals comes the opportunity to learn and expand 

we need these ordeals

incognito mode  

it’s time to reconnect with the mothers  

satisfy my soul 

lift my mind, seriously raise it from the cement 

course correction 

i don’t know what season we’re in but i love everybody and everything 
I’m actually not sure I’ve ever experienced this amount of extended joy in my life 
i’m just constantly really happy and grateful 
despite the burning buildings around me 
i’m really, really enjoying myself 
i’m kind of letting life write itself, letting the stories write themselves 
extracting lessons and blessings from all of this 
also! things are starting to make so much more sense… maybe the extended joy began when i bought this piano 
suddenly it’s so clear what was missing 
i’d like to get rid of most everything in my apartment except this piano 
one by one 
anyway, i think i’m destined to be an amazing pianist and composer 
as boring as it sounds 
it just feels so fucking good 
and it makes so much sense to me, it feels more natural 
i enjoy it 
i mean think about it. who the fuck makes it through like 10 years of piano lessons? it has to be someone who really fucking enjoys that shit 
and the jazz stuff, i connect to so much because it’s the perfect intersection of nature and spirit  
like 
wtf 
i’m so excited to be on this journey of learning and fully blossoming into my butterfly

stay grounded 
foot reflexology 

am i scared of my heart? 
unpack this with no judgement or fear 

sugar is the devil  
cords coming out of my ears 
who talks shit to me that i’m believing? 
someone close 

it’s me.  
do loving mirror work 
look in the mirror in my eyes and say “i love you” 

my legs want more attention  
move my legs more  
dance! 

prioritize sleep 

keep making strides to be on top of my money  

fall down into my heart 
find openness and i will be free 

create a vision board for the heart 
how important it is to me ?
what fuels my heart?

.

chuckling over all the ways i’m similar to the bird, of which i’ve always been afraid 
our instinct to be in constant motion, ever exploring, is perhaps the most obvious of our shared traits  
in the decades of my existence, i’ve come to know of another: 
i wound like a bird, 
break like a bird too

i should write about more things like politics and capitalism and free will 
so i will   

sometimes i get anxious about the thought of being sick 
of getting the virus and not handling it well, my body not handling it well 
having to fight 
i worry about having to fight 
i’d rather not make too much of an effort if i don’t need to 

what is disinformation if information is inherently flawed? because of the way information is first interpreted, but then transferred between individuals, where does the truth go?

reading about fatalism i realize i’ve been mistaken in regards to its definition in classical philosophy 
the flavor of fatalism which i’ve consumed describes an attitude toward the aspects of life which we don’t have control over. or which we believe we have no control over. pretty much it’s feeling hopeless.  
there’s, of course, more to the story though. in classical philosophy, fatalism refers to the idea that we are powerless to do anything other than that which we actually do… 

i’m not so sure i believe in free will if i’m honest 
it just seems absurd 
BUT i also don’t believe in the idea that everything can be explained by the known laws of nature 
there are things that are almost entirely supernatural and THAT is indisputable 
except it’s not because there’s no current way to prove anything i’m saying or anything that anyone else has ever said about this matter 

laying in the sand in san pancho...
it’s beautiful here 
would love to be here for a few months 
discover the community 
experience the food  
the woman that served us at Itzalanyasayan was glowing. she was a clay brown, with strong knowing almond eyes, a petite frame and a voice that both demanded respect and espoused healing 
she was a mother 
a healer 
a creative  

she talked to us about the concept of her restaurant and the ingredients of each meal 
i instantly felt at home 

bob got a vibrant salad bowl with spices and fish  
i got quesadillas made from deep fried zucchini batter with potatoes and nopales as well as a humbling ginger turmeric tea with honey and a hint of lime 

the woman commandeered the kitchen, which was alive with thick-handed aunties making dough, young girls handling sous chef duties, and a motley crew of chesnut toned children alll with honey brown/blonde hair and hazel everything else 

the children ran around carefree and wild as nature. i admired them with slight envy.  

in french, the word “envie” means desire 

I refuse to call it uncanny 
or to chalk it up to mere coincidence 
I’ve never believed in coincidences. Timing is everything. It dictates all that is unsaid, unspoken, understood by nature but overlooked by us.  
If we could listen to the signals given to us by timing, we would understand much more about the universe as we exist in it. We’d have answers to questions we’ve never thought of posing. Perhaps we’d have a reason to fight our natural instincts. 

i feel free 
but i feel heavy 
the unbearable lightness of being? 
it’s a timely meeting of love and pain, two of the same drug 

though i’ve made the conscious decision to release the hungry ghosts from within me, 
i’m haunted by the cascading dimensions i didn’t have the chance to explore 
in my dreams, each scenario plays out before me, almost violently, and i remain inactive, stuck 

i don’t know what i want 
the feeling 

i’m gonna miss this 

being able to sit outside in December barefoot, short-sleeved, warm-hearted 

a few years ago i drew a picture of the view from my backyard 

and i’m no artist 

it was beautiful 

accurate yet artful 

i need to find that before i leave california. i want to look at it with new eyes. 

perhaps i should draw a new one first and then compare the two later. 

it’ll be like a parting gift for us, me and the backyard 

we shared many secrets together 

moments of which neither of us dare to speak 

energies. which can only be passed on to the next generation of forest dwellers who inhabit this house

in 2018, i traveled on a whim to Paris 

i went to Joshua tree three times 

and i wrote a song in the desert 

i…asked for more money 

i salvaged dying friendships 

and i said ‘goodbye’ to toxic ones 

i went on tour 

i got to see my sister 

i started to pay attention to what i was putting into my body again 

and paying attention to the natural processes that take place within me 

i started seed cycling 

i started to pay attention to how active i could be with my body again 

i acknowledged myself as a sexual being 

i bought more books 

i bought half a bass guitar 

i decided to move to new york 

i started taking care of my skin 

i brewed my own kombucha 

i started to give a fuck about the environment 

i adopted a cat 

i released an album 

i gave a talk at a conference 

i celebrated a friend’s wedding 

i watched more telenovelas than i can count 

i learned Spanish 

i discovered Costa Rica 

i got back to writing 

i started actively investing in my smile 

i picked up magic and spirituality 

i picked up a love for philosophy 

i fell in love with architecture and design 

and I embraced nature while hiking, swimming in lakes, climbing mountains, roaming the desert, inhaling the beach, howling at the moon 

i prioritized honesty to myself more than to anything else 

i’m deathly afraid of flying these days. turbulence is torture. my anxiety is getting worse. this crippling fear of death is a new thing. i don’t like it. i need to read more Nietzsche. 

this second album is late. i took a two-year long hiatus from creating music because i was losing and finding myself in a vicious cycle. but i have regained that petulance, that absolute narcissism that comes along with being an artist.

not so sure there’s a theme for this bit of work. it’s a compilation of love letters, again. some to friends, some to myself, some to cities i’ve walked in. i feel so disassociated from my emotions, but i’m so emotional. does that make sense? it doesn’t have to.