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You can only live in it.

Spend as much time as you’d like surfing rabbit holes, it ends the same as when a rich person dies— you can’t take it with you.

You can’t have it.

You can’t hold it.

You can only experience it and it’s you.

That’s all you want.

You want to experience you.

Well then you have to live in the world outside of you. Because when all you think about is you, you never figure out who you are when you’re not directing.

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Whatever you’re looking for, you’ll find disappoint paired with finding it.

You wanted to know more and now you do.

Are you better?

Now you think about walking more than where to go.

Forget what you need to know, want to know, hope to know.

Don’t know anything and you’ll get there.

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I used to hear people say Hitler wanted to be an artist, and who knows if that’s true. But when you watch some horror movies, you have to wonder what was in the writers head to make them come up with that?

Why do we think our imagination is our own?

It’s not.

But it is equally apart of us, might even be more apart of us than anything else. Which means, if you don’t find an outlet for your imagination, your imagination uses you.

Look at these movies– I’ve learned more from movies than books. Some of these movies parallel your own life so closely it makes you wonder if there even is a reality separate from the stories we’re born into.

Your ideas are yours to follow, but be smart about what you do with them.

You can make something great and cure yourself from your possessive imagination, or you can ignore it until it slowly carves you up and takes you.

So when your mind goes dark, what’s it gonna be?

Violence or Art?

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When I asked my brain for directions, it spun me in circles.

And even though I was lost, I still trusted its terrible coordination.

But the internet that kept me connected was ” I want this” “I like this” “I should have this” …

Well friends, if the destination that your GPS is searching for is likes & wants, you’re gonna drive off a bridge or into an ocean.

I had to lose it all to wake up to the life that I made.

The world I hated wasn’t the world, it was mine.

I made this by dreaming about who I could be, instead of working with who I am. If you crashed, have nothing left, no direction, no money and no hope, you have it all.

That’s as close to a blank slate as you’re ever gonna get, and my blank slates are what I needed to rewrite my history.

If you’re a prisoner, fulfill your duties.

Do the stupid little shit, and get good at getting your job done. Sometimes, the only way out is just DOING it.

Within the torture are the tools, Within the suffering is the solution.

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If you pick up every incoming call and then get mad at the telemarketers, you have only you to blame.

You give away your time and attention.

I used to say yes to hanging out with my friends every time they called then get mad at them afterwards because I’m tired, drained, and didn’t do anything I wanted to do— but it’s my own fault.

You have to value your own time.

To be your own boss, you have to be an obedient employee.

So what will you obey?

Every ringing phone that distracts you, steals your time, energy, and focus– leaving you with nothing.

Or a schedule, that is designed around the things you want to do.

One leads to what you want, the other is empty distraction.

But all you have is you.

Pick.

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How can you learn something today but forget it tomorrow? It’s not enough to know it in memory, your body has to know it too. And I’m having a hard time getting mine to remember what it knows.. You ever have those moments with loved ones where you’re both synced up and time just flows and you both perfectly understand one another? You think “I wish I could keep this forever, why isn’t it always like this?” It’s like, in that moment, you’re so present in what’s happening, that you completely forget about your suffering and everything that still bothers you. In that moment, you don’t even exist because you’re in this world and out of yours.

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You came to realize something these last couple years, and it’s that my solution to my fear of failure was to not try at all. LOSER. And If I didn’t care to begin with, the results didn’t say anything about me (so i thought) —-BUT the not participating did. The mistake was looking for ways around failure— not being caught when I needed to be, not dealing with and learning the lessons from my mistakes. I avoided it there, to live it here. That’s how it works- you actually don’t get away with anything. You just pay it later. So whatever you do, just deal with it now. It’s way less painful and faster this way.

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People respect appearances. It’s the filter the world can never move beyond. Few see through it, but even then, it doesn’t change how it all works. Which is always colored by the cover of your person, the suit you can never remove for as long as you wear your life. Those of us that have opposite truths, crave escape. We want out of our bodies because they don’t contain, they restrain. But the only way to leave is to rule. You can’t change the building you reside in— you can graffiti it, you can hire a different architect to carve it up and down and change the presentation of it, but you can never change it. Not how or why it’s built that way. You can only make peace with it, and you have to- or you’ll never gain its cooperation. The body isn’t the mind alone— your body is your matrix. If you want to leave the matrix, you need to learn how to win at yours.

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I run. I run to things and away from others. I run and run and when theres no where to run, I vanish. I live in the stories I imagine. But I forgot which were true. When it accidentally worked out for me that I became a writer, I was fooled into finding the answer. Because even though I was a stranger to the language, every word I wrote was true. It was like writing a cry for help but while answering it. The words weren’t mine, but the sentences were. Towards the end, I ran out of paper and didn’t know what to do. So I looked up and found more life off the page. I forgot I was the writer, not the character running through the book.

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Think about it, sunlight never reaches your soul, as deep as it goes is the surface. Your brain won’t even get oxygen without your meat suit filtering it. We’re literally imprisoned inside our body. And then we use our prisons to shape our outside world. But it never works because both of you are bound to natural law. Your body has needs separate from you– and you can’t change how it feels pleasure. So to change life, you have to design it as the person inside the body but play it through the body. You have to walk your meat suit in front of a multi room mirror and try to catch yourself in between making eye contact. And if you catch the person underneath their stare, you have to wear them. Let them eat you alive, what isn’t you will die. What’s alive after that will be what scares you about yourself, because it’s true.

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I used to think you cared about me, now I see I don’t matter at all. Im mad but not enough to renounce you or say I don’t love you, never that. I can say fuck you, and mean it. I can say you’re a bigger piece of shit than me sometimes, and I mean that too. But I do love you, even if you don’t love me. And I can admit I was bad. I was weak, I voted for weakness. I didn’t know what to do so i chose to sleep. If you’re mad at me for that, I would rather you fight with me than ignore me. But like always, I have no say, you choose the dates. I’ll ask one favor- I know, impolite, right? But I ask anyway: release me.

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I waited for an invitation that never came, and the only time I was invited was when I pretended to have been. That’s the actual game of life. Nothing happens for real, until you make up your mind. “Make up” means decision, but also illusion. That’s the world. It’s all just the makeup you wear and the makeup you remove. Remove the worlds face to get yours. Only when you believe the story in your head so much that you then act it out, the invitation comes, suddenly. Because she has to believe you, and the only way to get her vote is if you believe you. Then she’ll be fooled, after you are. And then you get it all.

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You’re bound and the contract is your body. You have a say in how you can best work the machine, but you don’t have a say in how the machine works. If you break your machine, you limit the machinists experience. For this to work– you and living your life, BOTH machine and player/ soul have to harmonize. You can’t be at war with your body, but you are every time you try to change it. To stand a chance you have to honor the contract because once it’s broken, you’re forced into a sub alternate reality where you can never have the powers gained from your past, because you deleted it. And things without a past have no future. Look, you might not be all the way doomed but you’re definitely hybrid, someone who’s insides and outsides forever battle because you created divorce where reconciliation was needed. And now your stuck living half of a whole. The only way to make peace, is to follow the instruction manual that came with the machine, but play as who you are in it, with it, as it, against it.

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People are like magnets drawn to the energy they’re compatible with. And not just what you like, but where ONE story allows for those characters to interact. That’s what they mean by your relationships reveal you, even the bad ones, you got that story for a reason- it’s because only that character wrestles with that other character. It’s like we’re all pulled into stories that, whether positively charged or negative– develop us. Life is just a series of genre skipping, as you age in and out of your body. And then onto the next. The mirror isn’t your reflection, the mirror is reality.

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Everyone is born into a necessary lie. The front and cover of your book. The cover holds the pages, the book, together. How the pages are bound is just as important as the pages themselves, if nothing holds you together— and in a necessary order, you’re just a buncha incomplete essays that no one reads. Just like nothing makes you have the desires that you do, It’s still true you can corrupt a human and darken their light. Circumstances can absolutely drive you to evil. You’ll just lie to yourself about it, but you still could. So it’s important to keep your lines, your bind, the book that those pages are in, the integrity of the book itself intact. Your values have to be honest and you have to uphold them. Or the book is ruined. You came into a role and you’re supposed to play it – to write, read, edit, but fucking complete, finish YOUR book. And don’t rip out the pages dumbass, You’re supposed to just turn them. You’ll find the truth through the art that lives inside of you. 

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Don’t look too into your soul, but live outside of yourself –which literally means just be. Be who you are. Be what you are. Because even when you force out the insides —because you need to prove they exist, that won’t make them anymore real. You’ll feel exactly how you felt before because the urge to change is what needs to die but changing doesn’t qualify. It’s what doesn’t change that kills the need to keep changing. Connecting to your deepest roots, is your deepest self. We’re all dumb for changing in the first place- we shouldn’t interfere with our own development but the problem is we always do.

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No matter what you’re drinking it, but you’re allowed to swirl and smell it before you just down the whole thing. A lot of people emphasize how important it is to choose who we let into our lives and rightfully so, but they don’t talk enough about choosing your pain tolerance with those people. You get to choose your hurt. You can have the pain of truth or the pain of lies, but only one is good for you. You have to choose, you’ll choose everyday. You choose differently with different people. And that’s fair. But if you’re around the wrong people often, you choose deceit often, and if it’s often you’re there, Your pain is the wrong choice.

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I had to learn how to see. Because if you want a life that suits you- a true life, you have to become a true individual. That means wear your truth. If you’re against something and you hide it, what’s true for why you’re against it now hides from you. And then you fill that reason with a lie and live that out as true. And that’s how you become someone who self sabotages and crashes, you’re against the fake you. That’s why you work against yourself. The person who watches, hates the house they sit in. And how does that connect with listening first to then see? Because the only way to find your blind spots, the parts of you that you’re unaware about, is to reveal yourself to another person and hear what they have to say. They’ll do the same if they’re a real friend, and both of you learn to see, more and more. Til you can see with your ears and then everything is clear.

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We play the roles we’re casted in and if we play them well, we get to finish our movie. But the say you have isn’t over what happens, it’s whether you’ll speak. You can go against it and it’ll still happen, only without you there— you’ll miss the show because you’re auditioning for a different movie- but that’s someone else’s film. And you were cast to star in yours, but are instead critiquing the writer because you don’t like the plot. It’s so dumb how we so easily trade ourselves to be in the background of someone else.  

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I suffer a lot. But a lot less now. I used to try to change me through consumption, and that could NEVER work. You’ll only succeed in corrupting yourself. You’re not looking to make additions or edits to your human, you’re looking to clean your spirit. You have to unfilter your soul, you have to de-corrupt yourself. And the only way to do that is to get to know who’s underneath, who watches— because for most people, the person who watches isn’t the person who speaks, and that’s why they suffer. That’s why they’re caged, trapped, stuck like a genie in a bottle. You rub your own lamp hoping to feel the energy that lives inside it, but all you had to do was call it by name. If you want what you’re missing, get to know the missing parts.

Write you, to right you.

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