ColdCornerStone

Today is mother’s day.

My mom passed away four years ago April 17.

I’ve been to her grave twice since her passing,

The first mother’s day after her death,
and just this last April 17th, with my boy.

You deserved the whole world, mom.
I love and miss you.

I remember when my son’s mother started fucking other men.
I came home from work one day and found her fucking one of my best friends.

Fuck. That piece of shit even robbed me when in a situation where I was trying to buy some a bike off of a mutual friend.

But, recently, a friend of mine broke up with his girlfriend.
He’s an awesome guy, a contractor, confident and strong.
Fathered both red haired boy and girl with her.
I can’t explain the circumstances as to how it happened,
but I’ve been fucking her senseless the last couple weeks.

The world is an odd place…. and I often ask myself
what is moral relevance?

I had always slept in my mom’s bed when I was a kid.
I can remember playing and chewing on her hair in the mornings
when I woke up.

I absolutely loved the smell of her hair.

The only reason these nostalgic memories come to me
is because of my own long hair now.

I’ve never let my hair grow very long…
but, I missed a few haircutting appointments in the
last couple years, and, well, here I am.

My shoulder length, thick brown hair
reminds me of my late mother….

because somehow the smell of my hair takes me back
to when I was eight years old.

What the fuck.

I miss you so much, mom.

Nothing truly seems to make sense to me.

There is the natural, true form of reality, and then there is the matrix.

A matrix of reality can be any working reality that is the summation of external and internal factors that make up who you are and what you do, dysfunctional to the true form of reality based upon the truth of physical existence and reality.

But, in contradiction to this idea,
the only true reality to each person is that which exists inside of their own head.

This factor adds weight to the true complexities of reality,,
because it is certainly just as real as it spawns from the same
essence as the physical world and universe we all exist within.

There is a real outer world, and because of our elevated consciousness that is compounded upon a complex and intricate system,our attention is completely controllable in accordance to the physical reality.

What we focus on is what exists.

This attention is the malleable factor into the reality
that any of us can and ever will willingly exist.

Our separations and our connections
can be considered the all seeing eye.

What do you see?

That is why we live our lives by a time line.
It all makes sense in a time line.
We live within a comfortable schema that works.

Unfortunately, we are unbelievably susceptible to the
propagandizing of our weakest flaws,
that which we all share in common to our reality.

And because you live in the reality of your own inner existence,

your individualism,
is susceptible,
to the ultimate discrection of an external collective.

A collective that puts you into a jar inside of a vacuum,
where you look to the stars every day,
into the future of a brighter day and better place,

…but you always fall into the traps of entropy.

Instead of seeing what’s already there,
you become the main force in your own destruction.

But… there’s something that’s always there…
The same light from the same source…
….

What if you are the timeline?
…and you really do exist within the reality of your own mind,
wherever upon whatever frequency,
a wave exists to be received….

You are important as an individual.

It is up to you to follow your interests so vigorously
that you connect with your inner light to be more,
and that you will grow and grow,
because reality persists it of you, and it always will.

You will never let the terrible conditions of existence
distract you from who YOU really are.

1/19/2016
If I put my fingers to these keys… I know them so well. I know that the YYYYYYYYYYY sticks. SHIFT DOESN’T WORK so sometimes I forget to hit CAPS lock twice.

I’ve had this fucking thing for so long…

Why do I constantly… disable myself?
Sometimes, I know I will inevitably make this mistake, and unconsciously commit the fucking retarded act, anyway.

Have I hated myself so much that I have allowed my own physical and mental deterioration?
Am I nothing more than an example of proven psychological and social poison?
I can’t come to any other conclusion, that I base so much mentally on my physical world.
I am fully aware of my own demise, understand the implication to each of my acts, but I do no better.

Do I know better? What is better?
Where is … but her ?

She’s nowhere. She was a lie.
A gifted demise, given to I, …

I’ve been living in this life of symbols. Mostly trapped. I don’t yyto translate them. They hurt.
They don’t mean anything.

I know… I know… I’m fucked in the head.
I can’t live any other lie… I can’t find the Truth.
The only light I’ve ever felt is in the pain I avoid.

Why do I live in this void? How do I live… in this void?

In reflect rebel against facist human system of emotional devoid…

I drown myself in cowardice display, the same avoided monotonous droid.

It may be easier to endure the constant pain from the blade of betrayal being stuck into your back by friends, and family, if you have someone who loves you that is willing to be there for you… but, it all comes crashing down when that person no longer exists. The feeling of abandonment is up there close to betrayal and being heartbroken. Chase is my only solace, even if I am more of a visitor than a father, but I cannot be anything but strong, committed and consistent for him… so these unwanted feelings will have to be dealt with in some other lifetime. I love him, and it strikes deep into an open wound that my life is so warped and I am a loner cast into the depths of unknowing in the realm of jealousy and deceit. I do not play the daes dae’mar… the game of trying to be the better parent, or to gain advantage in his life, I just want to be there for him… but, not playing it merely means I will be at the sharp end of the blade when it comes for my throat, considering all those in his life do play this game. This is not the life I want for him to be exposed to, and woe is me for my failure in ending these tumultuous ways forced upon him if they ever come. Why must people be so selfish and awful? Merely because they are trapped within the confines of a closed landscape inside their minds. I hope, with every fiber of consciousness and my being, that he comes out right, not attached to the materials nor built up by them, but strong in his heart and mind… and that will be my most difficult endeavor for him… teaching him these ways when he is so little influenced by my intellect. If rhetoric is to fill his mind, may it be of philosophy, not of indoctrination. If want fills his heart, may it thirst for love and knowledge, not the desire for favor. May it not be a competition, may his life not be a struggle for his choices, but his existence bring fruitfulness in its sharing, not the jealousy of want; the art of despise, but the abundance of giving, and the premise of righteousness. I love you, Chase Christopher.