My Life Right In This Very Moment

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That damn thing happened again. This uncontrollable entertainer slash wannabe author has exploded inside me again the moment I started the life hacking away from the catering, home repairs and yards — odds and ends bullshit — and back toward my old way of being a hardcore nine to fiver giving up every day off I could to squeeze every drop of green out of the whole deal. It’s a problem. In one mindset it is key at this job app’d up point to go do the face-time thing anywhere where it’s not just a “blah, whatever” type resume submission.

But instead I’m in the process of opening a Patreon centered on my writing and just finally bought a web-cam of merit to adhere to the “best practices” guidelines they provide. Probably a new YouTube channel before long too. The thinking here is that, as I have whined about before here into the blogs, there really isn’t any good reason for me to online-publish things like pieces of upcoming fictional works and poetry anthologies. Don’t get me wrong, I love doing this style of free-flowing Web content and this style of post would always show up on this blog.

However, when I look over my hard drive there is a lot of pieces on here that are better suited for a Patreon feed than just sheer live blogging potential future IPs so third-parties can just come in and give zero credit to the author while using a level of ads that is obviously excessive. People should get paid for their best work and art is work like any other. If I were to guess the objections some raise about this style of crowd-funding it’s that they don’t see writing, music, and art in general as something valid to pour money into unless it comes pre-packaged by the existing industry involved.

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What I think many are unaware of in this matter is that in the “old days” a writer of merit would receive an investment in the form of a large lump sum directly from the publisher then given a deadline to produce. This investment was expressly for living expenses, research materials, leisure time, and anything else that might enhance the final product. No going back from the Digital Era, obviously, so e-publishing is just a beast all serious writers have to tackle to ground or be eaten alive when you try and call yourself that in public. But there are many projects going on here and no time at all to finish all of them unless I do that thing where the heady stuff and the final draft prose is paying for itself.

Enough about that. My neighborhood was popping off a second ago. Live music from up the hill and little kids singing some pop song I don’t recognize from over the fence. Out here in the backyard after running around town a bit. This is Santa Cruz, CA by the way or “Surf City USA” or as I want to be known as the birthplace of NHS and Santa Cruz (Brand) Skateboards & Clothing. No I don’t work for them it’s more that you might have seen those stickers around and those are referring to my little surf / skate town here.

Think I liked San Francisco more but the housing costs are just stupid high so that’s off the table unless I could network that shit. Oh what else? All this poetry explosion going on in my head is probably because I’m in love again, which is nice but complicated when these new feelings are for a long time close friend who is keeping at a distance most days. Always been a fool for love but thanks to serious bumps in the road in my youth I can speak very openly and directly about these topics if people are comfortable enough with me to do so. Often the things left unsaid in romance can be sexier than spilling your guts twenty-four seven but oh doggies do things get complicated sometimes and the need for honest communication shifts into the foreground so strongly that it’s almost slapping you in the face.

Okay, that was a “rant” they call them in this box of digital expression that is linked to other boxes that occasionally do this creating unique ideas stuff. Peace, love and chicken grease.

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Eric Lightborn / Eruptide@YouTube out.

Dreams and Nightmares; Form and Void

1.jung
“The dream rectifies the situation. It contributes the material that was lacking ..”
“As against Freud‘s view that the dream is essentially a wish-fulfillment, I hold … that the dream is a spontaneous self-portrayal, in symbolic form, of the actual situation in the unconscious.”
– C. G. Jung

I believe that what we experience in our dream-state is a subconscious expression of significant symbols that represents our true selves.

No person, in my estimation, is fit to interpret the dreams of others. The internal meanings and underlying contexts always remain outside the understanding of any except the individual dreamer themselves.

Nonetheless, it is still important to share our dreams and nightmares with one another in hopes to bridge the cognitive gap between consciousness and unconsciousness.
In time I will incorporate my own dream-analysis and dreams into this site.

But here we come to a dilemma. I don’t dream.

Or rather, to be specific, I never remember any of my dreams. I take them as existing on a level of unseen and unknown quanties or parameters.

My dreams are nothing but a endless void.

The only thing I know for sure is that they are not dreams, they are nightmares. Of this much I am certain.

Even when I can barely grasp a meaning or setting from a dream it is always clear that all I would discover are painful reenactments of the past.

At least that’s the most I can be sure of from awaking in cold sweats and having often put claw-marks on my face from what everyone reading this would assume was a ‘good dream.’ If my incoherent, flash-point perspective is at all right about what I dreamt.

Mainly, it’s the dread. Every night I’d rather stay awake than sleep. Right now I really don’t want to lose control of this brain. I know what it does. It torments people for fun. Namely me.

***

Every dream I have any strong memory of you would classify a nightmare. A reoccurring dream as child seems like a horror movie or video-game, but it was prior to having seen anything but Rambo and GI Joe. A nightmare that was more real than any dream I’ve ever had or ever since was essentially and quite literally Hell on Earth.

Some people talk about Dream Journals and exploring dreams to better understand yourself. Maybe I don’t want to understand. All that will happen if I start dreaming again is I will start predicting the future or lose my sanity or both.

You never know.

Karl Rove is A Partisan

1.karl-rove--140Wall Street Journal – May 14th 2009

“Pelosi is accessory to torture ..”

Translating from Rovian back to English: “I am smarter than you, America.”

This shameful man continues to use Political Science as tool to spread fear and misinformation in the public. Under the guise of journalism he continues to spread the Politics of Fear and the Tactics of Misdirection. For all his supposed intelligence he proves time and time again that is incapable of bipartisan commentary. Spreading political fear in place of political knowledge in all his critiques is proof enough for me.

Rove is an agent of inaccuracy in politics. A partisan, in full.