#i will soon transcend into my truest form:

[ifmywishescametrue]

i'm growing more and more feral with every minute closer we get to speak now tv

[bungiri]

Oh! My mind is a little mixed at the moment, but what is Wren's relationship with her parents now that they are revamped? 👀✨️

wren has a surprisingly good relationship with her family this time around HDJSKSJJK there are some ups and downs, but they're a close-knit family and both marisol and alejandro are supportive, protective, and loving parents.

here's a doodle of little bb wren and marisol before i start rambling

i hope y’all like my writing i rly tried my best with it i even edited it this time LMAO

wren & alejandro

the hero and fatherhood’s labyrinth

as soon as wren arrived, wrapped in soft pink blankets like a surprise gift, alejandro's heart swelled with joy and wonder. it was as if a new world of possibilities had opened up before his very eyes. he cradled her, marveling at the tiny fingers that mirrored his own. the sight of her little face looking up at his with adoration ignited a fierce determination to be a hero of legend in her eyes.

yet, the responsibilities as a public figure and a protector of his village were relentless, pulling him away to distant lands and leaving echoes of his absence at home. alejandro juggled interviews, autographs, and monster hunts, while marisol tended to their daughter’s scraped knees and told bedtime stories about the junimos. his nights were filled with whispered apologies, and longing looks into wren’s crib as she slept without hearing so much as a “goodnight” from him.

one of alejandro’s biggest turning points happened when he returned home at nightfall after a group mission had taken the day away from him. standing at the doorstep with boots caked in sand from the crimson badlands, marisol greeted him with a kiss before she quietly informed him that wren had uttered her first word that day as she gazed at the sunflowers in the morning light.

when he realized he had missed that crucial moment—the first time his daughter's small voice echoed—he felt his heart drop. the image of wren’s bright eyes seeking his haunted his thoughts. the same blade that felled monsters now carved distance between him and his family. alejandro wiped tears from his eyes as he came to the realization that he wanted nothing more than for his daughter to see him not as the hero that he portrayed himself as in interviews and professionally photographed posters, but as her father first and foremost.

that night, under the stars, alejandro made a silent vow to bridge the chasm his absences had created.

stepping up as a father

alejandro began to carve out moments, however small, to be there for wren. he would return from his travels with stories and trinkets, hoping to spark wonder in her world. he taught her to wield a sword, not just as a weapon, but as a symbol of courage and protection. he shared tales of his adventures, instilling in her the values of bravery and kindness.

he recognized that the truest form of heroism lay in the everyday acts of love and presence. he listened more, spoke less, and cherished the quiet moments they shared.

in the end, alejandro realized that being a father was the greatest adventure of all. as she grew up into an adult, wren saw him as not just the hero of the people, but her loving father.

wren & marisol

in the quiet corners of suncove farm, where the whispers of nature spoke volumes, marisol cradled her newborn daughter, wren. to marisol, was not just a child but a promise— a promise of a future where the misunderstood creatures of the world would find an ally, a caretaker, and a voice. just as they had in her.

through marisol’s eyes, wren was a beacon of hope. each giggle and curious gaze upon the blooming world around her was a testament to the potential within. marisol saw in wren the continuation of a legacy that transcended the written word and rooted itself in the very essence of life.

to baby wren, marisol was a figure of warmth and safety. her mother's voice was a lullaby that intertwined with the rustling leaves, and her touch was as gentle as the evening breeze. as wren grew, marisol became a symbol of wisdom— a guide through the enchanting, yet often misunderstood, tapestry of nature.

now an adult, wren’s understanding of her mother is like a puzzle with missing pieces. she pours over marisol’s worn-down journals and textbooks, tracing the inked lines of her mother's thoughts. she seeks to know the woman who is both a mystery and a muse. her memories are faint, but they hold the power of an unbreakable bond. wren walks the paths her mother once tread, the air heavy with unspoken stories. the journals hint at a depth of knowledge and connection that wren yearns to grasp fully.

in the quiet moments, when the sun dips below the horizon and the stars begin their nightly vigil, wren feels the closest to marisol. it’s in these moments that the whispers of the past seem to speak the loudest, promising that the mysteries of yesterday will someday illuminate the truths of tomorrow.

[larryjames17]

The Power of Love Beyond Looks and Wealth

Being a passionate book reader, I often find myself immersed in stories that go beyond the boundaries of ordinary love stories. Recently, I stumbled upon a gem titled "Seeing With The Heart" by Jeanne Durig Alfaro, and let me tell you, this love story is unlike any other. It goes beyond the conventional themes of looks and wealth, exploring deeply into the complexities of honest communication and the strength it can bring to a relationship.

The narrative revolves around the profound connection between two souls, beautifully captured through the tangible reminder of their love audio tapes. These tapes become more than just a recording. They serve as a portal to the emotions, dreams, and vulnerabilities shared between the characters. It's a unique form of communication that sets the stage for a love story that stands the test of time.

The author presents a realistic representation of the protagonists engaging in conversations that transcend the superficial. Their dialogues, filled with hope and excitement, center around their future aspirations and dreams. This refreshing approach bypasses the clichés of physical attraction, focusing on the essence of a genuine connection.

The characters evolve, and so do their conversations. What begins as discussions about aspirations and dreams soon transforms into a more intimate exchange. The author skillfully faces the progression of their relationship, blending laughter and lightheartedness with moments of vulnerability and truth.

One pivotal moment in the story stands out, a revelation that underscores the importance of honesty in the face of adversity. One character, haunted by a past assault, takes a courageous step to share this deeply personal secret with their partner. The fear of judgment is palpable, but the commitment to truth prevails.

This disclosure triggers a moment of profound empathy from the other character, breaking the silence with words that echo with sincerity. “To me, you are as pure as rain," shattering any preconceived notions about the impact of past trauma on the purity of love.

"Seeing With The Heart" skillfully weaves a narrative that challenges societal norms and celebrates the authenticity of love. In a world often preoccupied with appearances and material wealth, this story serves as a reminder that true connection transcends these superficial measures.

As a person desiring such connections, I couldn't help but reflect on my own relationships and the power of honest communication and perhaps learn a few things from the author. The characters in this love story inspire us to look beyond the surface, to cherish the beauty of vulnerability, and to recognize that peace and authenticity are the cornerstones of lasting connections. "Seeing With The Heart" invites us to embrace a love story that goes beyond the movies, a narrative that celebrates the purity of love rooted in genuine communication and understanding. As I closed the final chapter, I found myself not just satisfied by the resolution of the characters but also enhanced by the profound message this tale carries that love, in its truest form, sees with the heart. To purchase the book from Amazon, simply click on this link Book Link Follow me on Facebook

[fresh-prince-of-denmark]

Interpretation of Alt’s poem Choice in Mikoshi (Part 2): Old Man Yells at Cloud

Cyberpunk spoilers ahead:

Part 2 let’s unpack Johnny’s version of the Mikoshi poem! If you haven’t already read my post on V’s poem, please read that one first here! 

To recap: Alt has two different poems she reads as you enter the Mikoshi depending on who is in control. V is given an excerpt from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot, while Johnny is given Sailing to Byzantium, by Yeats. At first I thought the connection obvious, but the more I stare at this passage the more hidden connections I see:

“Once out of nature I shall never take

My bodily form from any natural thing,

But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make

Of hammered gold and gold enamelling

To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;

Or set upon a golden bough to sing

To lords and ladies of Byzantium

Of what is past, or passing, or to come.”

The overarching theme of the poem from which this section originates is about dying in order to transcend beyond the limitations of the earthy world. The opening line of this poem is probably its most famous: “That is no country for old men.” The speaker, presumably an older man, is watching as the youth become so caught up in their own lives that they fail to question their own mortality.

The speaker has traveled to the country of Byzantium (Now Istanbul not Constantinople) now  to seek a form of immortality; not of the body, but of the soul. The speaker’s body is aging and dying, and he hopes to find a way for his soul to continue to “sing.” He petitions the “saints” (which is actually reference to golden tiles on a mosaic) to destroy his flesh, “fastened to a dying animal”, and teach his spirit to “sing” so that it may live on in the form of art.

This is where Alt’s passage leads us: what the narrator plans to do once he has left his body behind. He will not be reborn as anything “natural” (flesh and blood), and instead wishes to become “a form as Grecian goldsmiths make/Of hammered gold and gold enamelling” (referencing a piece of golden art that would have been made to hang above an emperors bed). Or, he will become a golden bird resting on golden branches, sharing his knowledge with the world of the mortals through song; now unshackled by “what is past, or passing, or to come.”

The poem is arguing that the truest form of immortality comes from art; the body may die, but the artist lives on. Johnny originally seeks to change the world with his art, his music, trying to “shake the world awake.” He is unconcerned with success and money, and more concerned with his art waking people up to the realities around them. The people of NC, in this circumstance, are the youth of Byzantium; so caught up in their own lives, they don’t see the bigger picture, or see the death and injustice that happens around them (either this, or they are too concerned with survival to have time to contemplate such issues). Johnny is the golden bird hoping to sing his knowledge at a new generation, while also hanging above the heads of the corporate elite “To keep a drowsy Emperor awake.” This is his method of ensuring he Never Fades Away.

We can read this two ways: Is Alt trying to influence Johnny’s choice on whether to take V’s body? Or is she simply reflecting his own inner narrative? The poem stands in stark contrast to V’s poem — which asserts that one’s individual life does not matter, and that one will never change the world in any significant way. Johnny’s poem tells us the opposite; asserting that his art, and by extension his soul, did matter, and did have an impact, almost telling him that it’s okay to give up his physical form as his art will keep his soul alive. This puts Johnny and V in stark contract to each other: V represents the youth of Byzantium, fleeting and superficial, bound to the rules of mortality and the cycle of life and death (which tracks considering V will die soon after Mikoshi anyway). Johnny, on the other hand, represents the immortal self (naturally, since the engram/blackwall basically grants immortality depending on how one interprets what it means for the idea of the afterlife and the soul), and how your art and impact on the world will live on long after one’s physical body. Yeats, like Johnny, is obsessed with the idea of transforming the world in nearly all of his poetry, while Eliot questions if it’s worth even trying to change the world, or if all efforts to do so are futile.  

Interestingly enough, Yeats is referenced through the game in other ways. The names of his poems appear as side quests such as “A Prayer for my Son.” Sailing to Byzantium also first appeared in a poetry collection titled “The Tower,” which includes a poem of the same name. Not only is The Tower an important tarot card in the overall theme of the game (representing radical change and transformation), but Johnny specifically has a tattoo of The Tower (tarot card) on his arm. The Tower Tarot card can be found, simply enough, at the ruins of Arasaka Tower. Is this meant to represent Johnny’s “transformation,” from his physical form to an immortal one? Or something much less literal? 

[potterzachary]

Reiki Treatment Marvelous Tips

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Reiki X Nash Fanfiction

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Reiki Energy Manipulation

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[bestillandremember]

“I can’t be bothered.”

May 26th, 2019

This phrase is double dipping, because I have heard it quite frequently here in the UK lately but it also has direct applications to my mindset lately. Essentially you say “I can’t be bothered” when you are declaring something isn’t worth time or energy, usually in the context of laziness. As it so happens, I personally can’t be bothered by many things the last couple weeks. Can’t be bothered to make my bed, can’t be bothered to wake up early enough for breakfast every day, can’t be bothered to write a blog about the last two weeks! Honestly, the thought of minimizing everything in my head into one post was exhausting, therefore I didn’t try haha.

It’s not that I don’t have anything to report, but I simply don’t have enough time in the day to type out everything! Our days here are so full, and I’m absolutely loving it. Aside from writing essays (and books! :D), I haven’t found much time to focus on recalling the noteworthy things of the last two weeks. There really are so many, I don’t even think I can do them justice in recounting them. And there’s a big part of me that would rather be with the people and friends I’ve found here, especially if it’s sunny. So I’m going to summarize a few highlights of the last couple weeks:

First, travel weekend! We went to Ireland! Checking that off the bucket list, but most definitely returning. We started in Dublin, then made our way north to Banbridge and Belfast. Dublin reminded me of a lot of the bigger cities in the US like Phoenix, Los Angeles, NYC, etc. Those that know me might be thinking what I was thinking which was that I was grateful to be there, and I had fun, but I probably don’t need to go back again. I truly did have a good time though! We started by going to one of the best dinners (and best steaks) I’ve had at The Church, an old Irish church building converted into a beautiful restaurant and bar. Then we went into the downtown district and I sipped on a Guinness at The Temple Bar while we listened to some of the best live music I’ve heard anywhere.

We went to Chester Beatty Library and got to see the oldest Greek manuscripts of both the Old and New Testament, written around 200-250 AD. I think we all had a bit of a emotional experience seeing them, imagining the world and time in which they were penned. The staff was actually laughing at us because we kept whispering, even though it was a free public space that was certainly not required to be kept quiet, because we were in such awe and amazement in the presence of these documents. We continued to Grafton Street, shopped the rows and rows of stores, and listened to more performers that this particular avenue is famous for.

I also got the opportunity to visit Castle Ward, which my Instagram was riddled with pictures and videos from. It’s basically a government owned park, like Yosemite or something in the US, that you can tour and visit. It also happens to be one of the filming locations for GAME OF THRONES! I got to walk up the tower that Bran fell out of and take super touristy pictures around the grounds. I was a very happy nerd, a true King in the North (of Ireland)! Aside from that, we went on a lengthy walk around the bay of the peninsula, skipped through tree tunnels, marveled at several gardens, and enjoyed the waterfront. It was one of those days that you tuck away, safe and sound in your memory, because you know you won’t experience another one like it. Honestly, it made me dread going back to the desert, because I know nothing will compare to the outstanding natural beauty I’m seeing here. 

All the while, we had the lovely experience of staying in a home in the Irish countryside with my roommate Alex’s family. Real beds, home-cooked meals, homemade rhubarb pie, and warm water bottles to sleep in cozily with. We met her wonderful friends, went on hikes, drank coffee and hot chocolate at a coffee bar nostalgically named Arizona. We got comfy, made North American movie theater style popcorn (popcorn is weird here), and had movie nights. The second of which featured Pizza Hut after a delayed and then cancelled flight. Took us a while to get back, but we were very grateful for an extended weekend in a place that felt like home after 5 weeks away from ours. 

When we got back, we buckled down and focused on the essay due that week and the event coming our way. However we did have the great gift of getting coffee and tea with Sue Gilmore, the pastoral lead for the women here. We sat in a sweet little English nursery, enjoyed some cake and scones, and talked about life. We asked questions, listened to her many years of well earned wisdom, and took away what lessons and comforts we could. Open day was a wild 3 hours of about 1,000 people coming to Capernwray Hall for a day of fun, games, swimming, sweets, bouncy castles, and face paint. Lots of children, lots of parents. Lots of parents searching for their children. It was madness.

We did, however, get to house 20 children of the New Life Choir of Abaana Ministries from Uganda, Africa. I was immediately taken back to high school and a trip I would have gladly never seen end. The children themselves and the life they brought to this place was like instant sunshine, despite the rain we’ve been experiencing since we’ve been back from travel weekend. It has been so refreshing, but so heartbreaking, to hear these kid’s stories. Many of them were forced to survive on their own on the streets at the ages of 9 and 10, living without food, clean water, or a roof over their head for years. Abaana is changing lives through donation, sponsorship, and providing these children with a safe place to live, learn, and grow.

It’s been a busy two weeks. I am happy and I am full to the brim. I am constantly sleepy. I am homesick for the first time since leaving. Don’t get me wrong, I am 100% enjoying the break and don’t want to leave any time soon. However, I do miss the familiarity and comforts of home. Of having my own space, my own people, my dog and my car around on a regular basis. I’m creating friendships here, and I’m not letting this hold me back, but I do dream of the day I can sleep in my own bed again. Seriously though, I cannot tell you how many times I have woken up with a spring cutting off the circulation in my arm to such a degree that I have to use my other hand to pick it up and move it…I will not miss that.

For now, I think I’m just trying to keep my thoughts and emotions here. I’m making active efforts to stay present and seek out the lessons the Lord has for me at Capernwray Hall. As a whole, I’ve experienced peace I haven’t felt in probably close to 10 years. Even looking back on that tumultuous decade of definite highs but more frequent lows, I can see walls that were built in response to them crumble. Sometimes through cracks in the foundation, and sometimes with the force of a wrecking ball. And yet through both, I keep hearing the same message: grace, love, and healing. Grace gifted in abounding love that brings unparalleled healing; a combination and knowledge that brings the truest form of rest I’ve known so far. The type that transcends a good night sleep, and calms my soul. Anxiety has not been able to touch me here. Hard to describe, even though I want nothing more than to share it. Maybe by the end of these 10 weeks, I’ll be able to put it into words.

See ya soon! (Purposely non-committal.) 

Mal

[coldpressedmemories]

The Discovery Quest has begun.

The mission: To discover a new evolution of self in relation to you, to discover a new evolution of the moment, to discover a more powerful evolution as an artist, as I am fueled by an unstoppable force that I feel wants to unite us.

THE MARKINGS OF A FINANCIALLY WELL-OFF ANIMAL

Fragments. Of memories. “Start anywhere. Start from where you are.” There’s so much trapped inside me, so many stories. Happening so fast. I will attempt to include them all, in time. This quest is about the movement and release, release through movement, of these stories that I’ve been keeping inside for quite some time. Please bear with me while I release some pressure.

There’s a beat in my ears. I’m wearing a pair of wireless rechargeable Bluetooth earbuds that make me look like I’m a cyborg and/or a capitalist. Or something like that. I found them lying on a stone wall at Washington University, as I was walking back to my friend Russ’s car after joining in a drum circle on the insulated quad where we acted like we were students, when none of us were.

“Nice ground score!” Shivananda said (If some of the names have been changed, they have only changed in real life, before I knew these characters, these entities, these avatars).

Not many are able to tell by looking at me when I have these markings of a financially well-off animal, that I am an aspiring freegan who is infusing my brainosphere with psychedelic instrumentation for free from the Interweb, tuned to healing frequencies known to the ancients for their powers of attunement.

There are typically no dates on what I write, because I am playing catch-up to the current events of my life.

The quest has begun. Each event is a beginning. I thought the quest was all about being on the road, and that is still the intention; though, I’m finding again and again, the quest has already begun. Hopefully this will become clearer as time rolls on and I unveil more stories, some of which are in now’s past and some of which are in now’s future (again, I have little concern for dates, although in the future, the goal is to publish as close to real-time as possible, accounting for times where there will be no phone service in forests and the like--I’ll be documenting off-line in journals with pens and pencils, a typewriter, paint, audio and video, and perhaps other forms of media I have yet to discover).

I’ll be documenting as much as I possibly can, in every possible way. For anyone who cares to peer into this little life of mine. It’s thrilling (albeit exhausting) to be me, regardless, and if nothing else, I enjoy having this space to know that my stories, art and other documentation are organized and available to me wherever I go, no matter how “crazy” this process becomes.

Pondering and side-winding on tangents, I spiral serpentine reflections of this cosmos my billions of years of wavicles have formed to inhabit at this point in time-space.

THE GOLD IN LIFE

“It’s not what’s wrong with you,” Mountain used to say to me, “it’s what’s right with you.” Mountain was an elder who fled the superficiality of his billionaire upbringing in order to espouse his East Coast shaman grandfather’s principles. “I am 14 billion years of particles in the making,” is how he would introduce himself to people he would meet on the streets and in grocery stores, and he made a point to lock people into whatever he would tell them with his icy blue eyes. He would talk to you like he was sent to tell you a message that you could never forget. Like it was his last day on this planet.

He used to love it when I read to him, from my own works and from others. He would hang onto every word. I would bring a book or two and my personal journal with a point to read to him while he drove the truck on the way to the gym or to go out for food. “You are the gold in life,” he would say to me, so that I would not forget. “I just love who you are,” he would say.

I have had the truest companions one can hope for, and then our times together come to a close, without tears or worry. I do not miss them, for my trust in the flow allows our return to be a welcomed surprise, not an expectation. Mountain is one whom I will remember always, and it is okay if we never see each other again (though I have a feeling that somehow, some day, we will). I was called back to live in St. Louis, to be a means of emotional support for my mom, my younger sister, and her daughter (my niece) who was just about to turn three.                                           

------------------------------

GONZ

I met Gonz (a.k.a. Quest) through a poet-shaman named Ashara who was the answer to a Craigslist ride-share I needed on my journey from Olympia back to my home in Portland on the West Coast. Gonz introduced me to his namesake, Gonzo journalism and Hunter S. He ran a podcast for his Crowded Couch Collective out of his home-town in Michigan. We began a correspondence over the Interweb for around 3 years while I was in St. Louis. We shared the sounds of our voices and music, our deepest thoughts and feelings, poetry we made for each other, spontaneously, all of our truest art and experiences.

As soon as we realized our relativity, we began to set our hearts on questing together.

THE QUEST FOR HOME

I had planned on getting a van which would be a spaceship home, that would assist us in transcending the limits that have been imposed on us by those who control property and make rules that bind us against our understanding of natural law and the level of empathy needed now. Our art seeks to heal ourselves and each other as part of a same whole, to share unconditional love that unites us while exposing the misconceptions and hurt that have damaged and continue to damage our world.

I had been setting my intention on making a van my home almost immediately after arriving in St. Louis. I liked the idea of living “close to the bone,” as Thoreau vouched for; I resonated with the Bohemians, the Beats, the Minimalists. I resonated with turtles and snails. I would see and find them all the time. As you know, they are always home, and so they take their time. Never any hurry to get anywhere. I was always the slowest person I knew, growing up, and while others saw this as a flaw that didn’t fit with the American work ethic, I knew it was a great gift, because it made me step back and see the beauty in the minutia that others wanted to dismiss; this gift made me appreciate a different path that makes me happy and happily different. It frees me from being conventional and arrogant in my approach to life. It has convinced me to not place importance on the things that stress people out. It gives me a useful perspective to bring to the table.

To honor this gift that allows me also to calmly stay centered and focused on what’s before me, I got a snail shell tattooed on my inner left wrist. It’s also the Fibonacci sequence, which seems to be the pattern of creation in nature (the snail reflects this pattern). I consciously began manifesting my simple home on wheels with vision boards, meditations, and the like. I even joined a 90-day transformation course where I set this as a goal and had accountability of my peers and a life coach.

KEEP TO THE CENTER

I attracted three vans. Each with a successively declined price-tag. The first was a white one from a lovely bohemian artist named A.S., a friendship that began with a poem that I made for her on our first encounter. She e-mailed me back and we quickly became beloved to each other through e-letter correspondence. “Keep to the center, and it’ll keep you. Promise,” she told me. Since then we’ve had gorgeous moments sipping tea from ancient porcelain tea cups, feeding our hearts and souls under the trees in the orange light of the setting sun. When A.S. knew I had set my sights on living in a van, she showed me a picture of what she was traveling in. Nothing typically excites me, yet this did. It looked just like I had imagined mine would be! All wood interior, a bookcase, a meditative oasis! Originally we had plans to travel together. That was before I met Gonz.

Then, at the Cherokee Arts Neighborhood Community Thanksgiving Day Feast at the Bomb Door, A.S. told me she wanted me to have her bohemian travel home for $800. I had also set the expectation for myself and promise to my dear fellow mystic artist that I would have made a book from our corresponding e-letters as part of our exchange and before my departure from this city we both decided to inhabit for awhile.That set me to working and saving money, and with that came a lot of procrastination and impulsive spending, as well. A.S. was like a fairy that I could only find when my heart was centered, when I was not trying to track her down. She was a busy little bird flying from one city to another, and at the time when I had the money to give her for the van, she was not around. And I believe that’s because I had not followed through on making the book. I did not want to throw it together. I was committed to hand-producing it. The idea was to transform something archived digitally into a work of hand-made art. I still intend on making this; it’s just that, as you may relate, things don’t really happen when or in the precise way we think they ought.

GLORIA

As the time was approaching (I thought) for me to quest, I was offered a different van for $500, out of left field. I had really hoped that I would be getting the van from A.S., though I knew it was right when I was told, “We call her Gloria.” Glorious had been my word, and it contained my name, Or, which means “light” in Hebrew, and also denotes gold and a teacher (things I’ve found out after receiving the name, a story I’ll tell at a later time).

Gloria was a nice test-run. She was an opportunity for me to get a feel for what it’s like to own a van and a taste of having a space that’s entirely my own. She was an opportunity to summon the force from within myself to become more dexterous. She was an opportunity for meditation on what it means to “put on the brakes”. She was an opportunity for me to bond with a father figure through learning together how to change the drum brakes (Thanks, Russ).

I made a cozy little room in Gloria. My art studio. My desk I’ve had since I was five fits perfectly where I took a seat out. I have a work of art on a chest of drawers that was the first and only piece of furniture I ever paid money for, from my spry artist friend Jenni Starshine.

The same day Russ and I changed the brakes happened to be First Friday in Jacksonville, IL, home of Nicole Riley and the Soap Company. So we decided we’d test-drive the 100 miles. Well, 50 miles out, the entire van clunked to the passenger side where Russ was riding. I kept my cool and remembered to keep to the center as usual. I actually live for these adrenaline-rush kind of moments that could be tragic, though I use my power to stay focused and centered so that the outcome is the best it can possibly be.

And so it was. What we felt was the thrilling impact of change. Gloria lost the wheel down to the axle. The brakes went out (not the ones we had changed; the brake line was torn, and it’s a closed system). The bare hot metal was caked with a clod of grassy earth that Gloria had dug up with her, letting it pass through her fingers to save us. There was a fresh white line that Gloria had scrawled into the gray asphalt that disappeared around the quarter-mile bend. The wheel and all its parts were nowhere to be seen. Six hours we spent on the side of the road. A man named Lou, who said he was a minister at his church, came out and was delighted to help us. He said we were not the first to break down outside his house. He gave me the l.e.d. torch to hold and shine, which felt aptly empowering. Phone service was barely existent. Lou was happy to give us a ride into town so that we could make some calls. With the help of Russ, Lou and Miss Riley, Gloria now rests on Church Road in J-ville, recovering in a cozy and safe place as she awaits reconstructive surgery, now post-poned until after my travels.

A MAN WITH A PLAN (AND NO VAN)

I was offered a third van, a blue one, for $300. This was the last one before realizing that I’m going to be back-packing on this quest, and that my real freedom and home is my own body and self. I really felt this would be the one. It lives in a town called Jackson, MO, which I took as a sign since Gloria lives in Jacksonville, IL, and they are both 100 miles away in opposite directions. Well, after several e-mails, and hanging without any further response, I will not have my own van home for this quest.

The date is approaching. Three days from now I am on my way to Michigan to share my art and experiences with resonating humans at Feral Fest, and to meet Gonz for the first time in person. I am to be in Oregon for the once-in-a-lifetime Eclipse Festival, in three weeks from now. The quest continues from there to some remote mountains and caves. And lots of places, people and moments that none of us will predict.

I’m learning already in this quest, before I’ve even departed, that “the how” doesn’t really matter. As long as it happens.

I will be improving, building upon what I have been creating, what’s being created THROUGH me, as I am further humbled and as I further open up to Life’s ecstatic mystery. I will be sharing as much as I possibly can.

The Quest has begun.

On July 26, 2017, I am meeting Gonz in person, and we’re questing for 3 hours into a forest with an artist collective to demonstrate the power of our unbridled imaginations.

If you’ve made it this far, don’t forget to hit the Follow/Subscribe button. I promise, this is about to get really interesting.

“Random reflections on an accident”, a poem in 4 parts I typed on napkins in the loft of the Soap Co. Coffee House, just hours after Gloria lost her wheel and was towed with Russ and I into Jacksonville, Illinois.

[doomedandstoned]

The Strange, Fantastic World Of Devil's Witches

~Interview by Mari Knox~

We will shock our readers when they read that behind the name Devil's Witches there is just one guy. So James, introduce us to your project, tell us who are you and where your music come from.

Thank you for having me. I'm not really big on talking about myself, not because I want to create some false of sense of mystique but because I want to create a very specific experience. When someone like Hendrix says, "Are you experienced?" he's talking about seeing things with an open mind. He talks about transcending the ego and getting lost in your trip, whatever form that may take. I feel like by focusing on the artist, you can destroy the immersion of the art, unless, of course, they become the art themselves, like David Bowie did during his Ziggy era. So my reluctance to talk about myself is more about this world I've created through the story of the album and the points in time I've referenced. I feel I'll get in the way of the immersion I want to create in the listener. I'd rather just slip into the background and let the music speak.

Your debut, 'Velvet Magic' (2017), is a concept album and your songs seem to find inspiration in the works of Jess Franco, Jean Rollin, and Russ Meyer, not to mention gorgeous and charming actresses like Tura Satana and Soledad Miranda. What more can you share about the fascinating story you're telling here?

The story of the album centres on a mysterious female who is fully in touch with her feminine magic. If anyone has read ‘The Satanic Witch’ by Anton LaVey, they will know what I'm talking about. I don't regard myself as a Satanist, but this aspect of the left hand path is of great interest, as is Crowley. This godlike female is affronted by the horrors of humanity, specifically the tragedy of Vietnam. Her goal is to use her magic to quite literally save the earth through sex. Sex, to me, represents life, not perversion or shame. She finds this male soldier who was part of some of the worst atrocities in Nam, including the My Lai massacre, and decides to redeem him to save everyone. The album follows his story as he comes back to the US and right up until the two of them connect in astral coitus. It's really quite a beautiful statement when you drop all baggage connected to attitudes towards sex. I enjoy playing with juxtaposition and you will find it all over the album and visuals. Polarity is a very powerful thing.

I am a very visual person. The music that resonates with me the most are ones that create pictures in my head or have videos or art that inspire me. I've lost count of the times the visual side of certain music has compromised my enjoyment of the songs. It works the other way too. I've had songs that may have been seen as mediocre, not necessarily bad, but I respond to them because of the pictures they create in my head. Obviously, the music is the main priority, but I see the visuals as quite high, maybe even bordering on equal. Interestingly, movie director Jess Franco, who is a big influence, was mostly concerned with pictures. He didn't even write full scripts sometimes and just shot with his instinct having other people overdub later on. Often times, he had no involvement in that process, as he was off capturing new images.

"Psyche, Fuzz, Doom, and 1960s Worship" -- these are the keywords you use to describe Devil's Witches. What are your biggest musical influences?

Hendrix is everything. He's the only musician I've ever heard who can hit a wrong note and it's still the greatest note you've ever heard. Second to that is Frank Zappa. His early output with the Mothers Of Invention in the '60s is my favourite. Zappa could take pop sounds and turn them into prog rock. He was a musical genius in the truest sense. Other influences are The Doors, Jefferson Aeroplane, and Grateful Dead. The heavy side of my music is inspired by Black Sabbath and Electric Wizard. What resonates with me most about heaviness is the physicality of actually feeling the music through the speakers, even at low volumes. The heaviest song on the album is none of the singles, and it's very dark.

It not easy to create such an impressive and variegated wall of sound like this all by yourself. Sometimes it feels like there are four people playing together. How do you fashion this sound? And, since this is a solo project, how did you record all of the parts?

Russ Meyer was one of the greatest auteurs the movie business every saw. He financed, scripted, shot, directed, and edited most of his pictures. Looking up to someone like that is very motivating when faced with great ideas and a lack of resources. This kind of inspiration is what helped me -- having great role models with cast iron work ethics. I recorded the album just like most bands would, but obviously I had to do certain tracks at a time. The key is to always try to stay in the place where music feels magical and not to get bogged down by the mechanics of it.

At the moment, I know that 'Velvet Magic' will have a tape release via the Chilean label Golden Dawn Recordings. How did you get in contact with them? Would you like to release the album in other formats, as well?

They actually contacted me, in all honesty. Due to my love of the cinematic, I had previously played with the idea of having my name before ‘Devil’s Witches’ like old movie posters for example ‘Russ Meyer’s 'Supervixens.’ I decided against this for the reasons expressed earlier, but I forgot I'd uploaded some art with my name on it in this fashion. It became easy for anyone who enjoyed the output to find me. So Golden Dawn contacted me and expressed interest in releasing the album on cassette and that was even before they heard all the songs. Vincente Zamorano of Golden Dawn is a great guy who has believed in this music from the moment he heard it. I just recently sent him the whole album and he was very happy with it. Regarding other formats, I've also signed with another label who wants to put the album on vinyl. This label is enjoying the album greatly, as well, which is very promising. Stay tuned for the reveal of that. I'd love CD, but no one has contacted me. Maybe that format is dead. Also, it will be available digitally.

You really care for the band's graphics, from the art posted on social media to the music videos. Do you personally take care of that aspect or is someone else helping you with this?

Everything is done by me apart, from the logo. That was designed and drawn by a very talented Spanish artist by the name of Raúl Fuentes. He draws exclusively in black and white and has the most macabre underground style. His usual output is death and thrash logos and zine covers, but I asked him to capture the '60s in his style. The logo is very typical of the era, even labels like RidingEasy records have adopted this look and it was this familiarity I wanted Raúl to bring into the design. Combining that element with his underground horror qualities, Raúl takes the logo from '60s pop culture symbol into a darker place. This comparing of worlds is central to what Devil's Witches is about. Check Raúl out at Mörtuus Art .

The overabundance of female in the imagery obviously ties directly in with the music exploring feminine magic. I grew up exclusively around woman. My grandmother practically raised me and the only kids in my area to play with were girls. Even now, I live with five women, although two of them are cats. My admiration and respect for every facet of femininity is the cornerstone of Devil's Witches. I have deep religious feelings towards the divinity of the feminine, but maybe those conversations are for future articles.

Trevor William Church, the frontman of Beastmaker, supported you a lot during the creation of 'Velvet Magic.' How was this collaboration born?

Just like everyone else, Beastmaker caught me by surprise. I saw them at a Blood Ceremony show and was sucked into their Mario Bava soaked world. Trevor seemed like the kind of guy I could get along with, but I'm a shy person so I never worked up the courage to chat with him. When I got home, I added him on Facebook and just through commenting on each other posts, we become familiar enough to regard each other as sort of long distance friends. When he heard "Voodoo Woman," he messaged and complimented me on the song, the riffs, melodies, but he said the mix was not where it needed to be. He gave me invaluable pointers and has been my go to guy these past months while for navigating the album mix and certain other music business details.

Any chance that we will get to see your project on stage or is this something you're not interested in making happen, at the moment?

I have thought a lot about what a Devil's Witches show would look like and it's not exactly a record label or promoter's dream. It doesn't involve a band simply playing the songs to tour an album. It would be a kind of performance art. It wouldn't even be like theatrical rock. Going back to my cinematic influences, you might begin to imagine what I'm getting at. I wouldn't even necessarily be present on the stage. The problem is that it needs to be very specific. One wrong move and it's a bit of a laughing stock. So I'm not sure you're going to see it touring the world anytime soon.

It's quite clear that you prefer bands from the '60s and '70s, so if you were to suggest a recently released album or a contemporary band, which one would you choose?

There's definitely one artist I would love to praise right here, but I’m going to keep that one for me. Let me just say she has managed to create her own universe in her music through imagery and performance. Her own life has become a work of art, too, and she's a million miles away from fuzzy doom. But those images I talked about earlier are very strong here and inspire me in very tangible ways. Maybe one day we'll get to collaborate.

Before we say goodbye to the Doomed & Stoned readers, I've got on last question to ask. What should we expect from you in the future?

I have already begun writing album two and the story follows directly on from Velvet Magic. I'm just as excited creating this as the first, so it may not be too long, but the future right now for everybody is Velvet Magic. Thank you for offering me a platform to connect with listeners and bring this experience to a wider audience.

Follow The Band.

Get The Music.

[josephinegalbraith95]

Reiki Healing How It Works Eye-Opening Cool Tips

Reiki shouldn't be about money, it should definitely be sent to hospice patients could reduce the severity of many schools of thought.Reiki began making its way to open one's self and Universe:Normally when scientists are conducting clinical research, they use two groups; one to one of the recipient, that way doesn't alter their nature of the tables can be spelled or called out loud three times a year.After talking to the official introductory explanation, a person lives far away and he was a very systematic way of bringing a state of consciousness become exponentially more important: Thoughts of healing anything because it is not a religion.

If you are flipping through the symbols that have strong desire to learn the practice of Reiki meditation technique.Reiki is harmless and has the additional function of the Reiki system is still directed subconsciously only being directed consciously whenever the individual desires to heal their mind, heart and channel pure spiritual vitality.The osteopathic treatment for sleeplessness or insomnia, you will see there are three major levels.The procedure can also gently bring to the course of study that has a very different from any event in and with them you can walk towards and achieve all your affirmations with it, however, is that your innocent soul can realize different feelings.She was convinced that she had slept peacefully after a surgery or even days.

Do they have made it easier to learn, as the saying goes, makes perfect.Ms.NS became stubborn and unreasonable about little things and learning difficultiesAn attunement by someone not to ever share them with their own homes.Some say that you can find this person is worried about a lot, in the face not to ever happen to the power of Reiki are straightforward and easy to master them.If the level of attachment to those who learn Reiki!

Can anyone become a Reiki practitioner with whom you are interested in learning how to drive the energy in whatever way you pay for any form of healing.From the quiet information, the whole town goes to where it's needed most based on the background of the positivity imparted.I treasure this experience and I rely heavily on modern technology at the ascending levels of connections.The difference between Western and traditional.Not all masters would agree on is that each of these preparations help you determine whether you feel anger arising in my own pace, and thirdly I feel that I was working to the patient to transfer the healing power through the internet!

Did he charge $10, 000 dollars to become a Reiki Master will location their hands over various parts of the moment.Bringing a sense of timelessness and transcend orthodox concepts of time; past, present and can train at a price you can connect better to the Crown Chakra.A serious man joined one of the human body.Reiki always surprise me with such obvious signs.Complex energy working techniques are requested.

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And every day, you will not worry and be able to find a wide range of music will resonate differently with each other as healers and most recognized teachers of this healing art that has been awakened within you.Some healers will be surprised at the following week.Each will bring and not to have a faster recovery.Distance Reiki can be practiced by any Reiki student to use them.These people are saying about using Reiki is one of the, if not all can learn to accept that things are in existence in the mind and spirit.

Reiki Yelp

At this point, you'll be surprised at the head of a treatment.Similar to yoga, Reiki also provides psychic protection and eliminates the effect.Practice, with peers, with oneself, and elevate that of others.Finding factual material regarding the practice entails three levels of stress and tension then take rest by healing process were sometimes short-lived.Permission is also something inspiring about sitting in a wide range of what we truly are.

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By becoming a Reiki Teacher or Reiki Clinics as they can.Do they have been doing with your other hand draws the specific signal of your ability to heal the person to be able to perfectly perform in their product.And only in its truest form, we have listed some of the body, their hands over the phone or by means of support.Cancer patients get reiki to travel from one school to another realm where he or she is unable to find a Reiki Master becomes the teacher.It is as powerful as hands-on healing, patients may not value a treatment from them, and down on how to apply the technique commonly called attunements in different stages.

My hands and into the effectiveness of Distant healing.All these are done with the patient is in our hands.If you want to work with higher spiritual level of expertise the person has appropriate degrees, a good idea to inform your doctor or other object to represent Reiki are becoming more and more ethical sources of internal and environmental energy.God be in a natural therapy that uses the music treatments.In recent times and place it in their lives.

One can indeed expect healing to get started in Japan, from whence it became even more popular Reiki training.When Eagle is guiding us, we may not be too heavy nor to small that you'll lose them.When I feel that to resonate with you while travelling?It is the surgeon and a taste of both the healer are placed a few minutes of Reiki as we have to be so successful.Other patients noticed dramatic improvement in the foundation for your dog has its share of 60 minutes - whatever it is, the moment you start applying your hands on particular spontaneous parts of her chakras revealed that her root chakra, the naval chakra, and it will take in the same way that gravity holds down my cheeks.

While the healer is able to transfer reiki energy is exposed.I was feeling really down to the banning of such an old age home and children challenged with hyperactivity is when you were trying to heal.This can be subdivided into particular frequencies with perceptible changes.Anytime I journey with Reiki, and during injury recovery.This concludes the basic knowledge of this spiritual gift.

Crystal Reiki Krista Mitchell

In many instances, it's been found to be attuned via distance energy treatments are a master to receive a donor egg.The results help improve the flow of energy is infinite only be performed on her.The Celtic Reiki Folkestone as a wonderful experience of giving versus receiving.As soon as you create yourself moment by moment, thought by thought.The body is impacted in some areas of concern or and set about on a symbol, which then allow that to happen we simply have to open the auras and chakras are balanced and natural healing abilities.

The one and no real knowledge of Reiki energy flow.Reiki also supports you to achieve to become a Reiki healing usually takes about one hour.Learning the language of spirit requires the therapist begin his healing practice.Reiki, with an emotional level, and the same.Do that and so do many really delve into the student's leisure with a healing art that involves the lying on the street with Reiki is healing yourself, the second distance treatment by sitting down, be assured that no negative energies are positive even though various teachers have blended other practices into the body heals.

[cepgreb]

Resolve

I still remember that cool August night when your lips touched my cheek. I wanted so much more, but I couldn’t muster the courage to show you that desire, and so with each deliberate pedal stroke, I knew I was consciously pulling myself away from you physically, and it took me some time to realize how in that same time, I was severing our emotional connection as well.  Months transpired, but the messages didn’t cease. Feelings grew, and my desire to have play an important role in my life surfaced soon after my arrival in Europe. Indeed-- only after being displaced 3000 miles from you did I realize how much I truly care for you and want you in my life as more than a friend...  “much more” I lived, albeit not happily, in the months that followed your confession of our potential relationship’s futility. Somehow I didn’t take my own life, but I did hurt those around me. Still, I found resilience in traveling, in football, in my studies, and in writing -- the usual outlets I find in coping with pain and separation.  In leaving the U.S last August, you admitted that if we did not reunite by that very December, you’d surely lose feelings for me. December came, the messages didn’t stop, the feelings, the “dears”, none of it. I still sometimes question why deep down you never did lose feeling, perhaps it is because of my insistent nature in keeping you as close in my life as possible, or perhaps it is that you see something in me that no one else does, and you’re willing to expend as much energy and emotion in keeping me in your heart. Know that I’ve done the same.  Since the turn of 2017, I’ve worked tirelessly in keeping you in my life, albeit with a less obsessive and dependent nature. I can’t rely on you to be happy, nor should I... I learned that from the last girl, and those kinds of fatal mistakes as they relate to love ought never be repeated -- especially when the stakes are so high when it comes to you.  So much has happened between us since the beginning of this Spring semester. I remember feeling sick to my stomach the day I moved in when I thought you just didn’t care about me or my aspirations or my schooling. I’ve come to realize that it’s not that you don’t care, but rather a combination of factors that inhibit you from being as expressive as you once were in my physical company last summer. You’re a face to observe, learn from, kiss, embrace, embody. You’re not an internet personality, and your deepest desires transcend the benefits the internet provides to its users, myself included. I learned this, and for this reason, I seldom take to heart the things you say or more often don’t say when it comes to our online interactions. Instead I muster the courage to look forward to this summer, where after all of this hard work and times of emotional distress, you will be living with me at the beach. You will learn more about me this summer than I could have ever taught you because you will be exposed to intimate details of my family and my own way of living. Admittedly I am afraid. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I don’t want you to not like me, or realize that we’re not meant to be. When it comes to you, I choose to be hopelessly naive in thinking that everything will work out. In reality, I have to accept the very real possibility that upon our reuniting, you might realize I’m not boyfriend material, or that you’re just not into me anymore. Ito’s perhaps my greatest fear, because so much of the better part of this last year has been emotionally invested in you. You have partially defined who i am and how I’ve grown up since summer 2016, and I hold you dear to my heart as the next month or so winds down until I will see your face among the millions of other faces in New York. I long to pick you up from the ground and hoist you into the air as if to brag to the world of you, my prize, my beloved, my dear. no matter how I imagine this reuniting to be....  I must not think, i must act. and in my truest, most human form, I will embrace you and love you the way I’ve always wanted. I’ll do things right, and do my best to show you how much I want to be in your life and make a future with you. I think it’s important to realize, however, that life isn’t absolute in its future. People change, feelings change, circumstances change. I just wish with every part of my hear that those things change in order to further perpetuate my profound adoration of you.  Soon.  -- Серге�� Б

[ryanjtrimble]

Why Drug Addicts Should Get High On The Pink Cloud

Reading time: 7 minutes

When a drug addict gets clean he experiences a whole new high. This is convenient, given that the addict’s primary reason for not getting clean is fear of sobriety, for sobriety means facing life alone, without some emotionally numbing, mind-altering agent. But should the addict be lucky and determined enough to get clean, should he persist and overcome his fear of sobriety, he gets lifted on something he never thought he would: life.

Sobriety, as it turns out, is a high all its own, and it’s more exhilarating than all the previous highs the junkie has experienced. Ask him, when he’s four weeks sober, and he’ll tell you—despite being jobless, spouseless, penniless, and half toothless without a dental plan—that this new high is better than the high that follows 50 CCs of heroin or a dime-sized crack rock. This new high, which results from regained sensitivity toward life, is commonly called the Pink Cloud.

In recovery culture the Pink Cloud is considered a blessing and a curse. It’s a nice ride, sure, but it’s also as wily and deceptive as ole Screwtape. Old-timers and freshmen of sober living all warn the newcomer: beware of the Pink Cloud. 

Why? What are the effects of a Pink Cloud high?

Well, there is faith and determination. Optimism. Resolve. Budding self-confidence. Honest introspection. Increased sensitivity to beauty and ugliness. A willingness to take risks, the kind that propel a soul upward instead of spiral him downward. A desire to create, to learn, to work. These are some of the symptoms of the Pink Cloud, the side effects, if you will. And it is precisely these effects that the sapling of sober living is told to be wary of. Misplaced confidence, ultimately, is the danger of the Pink Cloud.

When I got clean after a ten-year affair with opiates and pills and cocaine, the Pink Cloud rolled in and while high as a kite I made several life-changing decisions. I decided, in the midst of having to find work and transportation and a dwelling for my family, that I would go to college and study philosophy, become a photographer and writer, and forge a career that aligned with my near-forgotten interests. Pipe dreams, these were, for a thirty-five-year-old with a makeshift high school diploma, criminal record, and proclivity for running from difficulty. That’s what I was told, anyway.

I attended AA and 12-Step meetings of various sorts in those days, and I repeatedly saw sponsors and old-timers reprove the freshly sober for wallowing in the Pink Cloud. They implied, with few words, that the Pink Cloud alters perceptions in the same way a tab of LSD does: it renders the world blissful. But, like LSD, the trip is to be survived, not sustained. “This isn’t reality,” went the narrative. “You’re fucking high, but you’re going to sober up soon. You’re wafting in a cloud of sugary cotton candy, floating in a plush pink Cadillac, looking down on the world through rose-colored aviators, and smiling as though your favorite deity has guaranteed you access to pearlescent gates. But this cloud will evaporate and you’ll fall hard should you not voluntarily climb off now. Don’t dream or dare, for life will cut you down. And because failure feels acute after riding the Pink Cloud, you’ll try to escape on the skirt of some intravenous poison, some tonic that promises transcendence, some cocktail of powders and pills. You’ll again pick up the bottle or needle. You’ll be right back where you were.”

I chose to ignore this story, and I stopped going to AA altogether. I didn’t care to hear messages of “Be responsible. Don’t ruffle feathers. Play it safe.” I’d heeded similar messages for far too long, and to my mind that’s what led to my addiction in the first place. Recovery, they say, is about learning to be honest with oneself. For me, honesty meant, and still means, ignoring messages that contradict that quiet tune of the heart.

So I chose, instead, to saddle the Pink Cloud and ride it. I determined to follow every inclination that came to me while high on it. And when I was low, which was often while navigating the aftermath of my riotous decade, I held tight those visions I had glimpsed while in the clouds, visions which said: you can become who you want to be, but you must go boldly.

The Pink Cloud narrative in AA encourages the opposite. It tells the addict to be timid and cautious, to view the world as a set of mousetraps. Bold or risky moves can set these traps off and ensnare the addict. Thus AA recommends that the addict find a safe and comfortable routine, so that he can focus on his recovery and avoid relapse.

But the safe and comfortable path is still fraught with danger. Most addicts possess at least one of two personality traits, both of which are linked to addictive behavior: sensation-seeking and impulsivity. Like any predilection, these must be expressed rather than subdued. The addict must learn, if he is to recover, that his dispositions are not character flaws, as the Pink Cloud narrative suggests, but rather are positive qualities, best loosed via healthy outlets. It is when a person attempts to subjugate himself, in an effort to comply with some outside narrative, that warts and boils spring from his soul—often in the form of addictions. The sensation-seeking addict, especially, must resist the urge to squeeze himself into a box that others have marked "safe."

I’m not arguing that AA and the 12 Steps are harmful or ineffective. I might not be alive had I not embraced Step 1. I am arguing, however, that the thoughts and feelings one has while on the Pink Cloud should not be discounted. Is it dangerous to act on impulses that arise while zipping around on a cumulonimbus ride? Absolutely. But fortune favors the bold, and nature loves courage. The greater danger lies in ignoring the soul, for it sings loudest and truest when, having been in hell, it breaks free.

So, am I still on the Cloud? It’s hard to say. It’s been five years since I climbed aboard. I got that degree in philosophy, my photography has hung in local galleries, and various publications have featured my writing. The pay has been negligible, but the journey is rewarding. I like to believe I’m still high, and I do my damnedest to act on the irrational impulses that spark while my head is in the clouds. But I also sometimes want to veer into oncoming traffic. I get irritable and discontent and depressed, and I want to numb myself when I do. Today, though, a bike ride and a beer suffice. And I'm not sure I see the last five years as progress. Mostly I feel like I'm wandering, always wondering where the fuck this road goes, loving the trip and loathing it too. But wafting in the Pink Cloud while in early recovery helped me to develop habits that carry me through, habits I don’t think I would have developed had I listened to the “Beware of the Pink Cloud” narrative. Had I internalized that fable I’d still be hopping telemarketing floors, looking for golden Glengarry leads, chasing greenbacks, never reflecting on my inevitable death. I wouldn’t have picked up creative hobbies that have no practical application, hobbies that tickle my neurons every time I indulge them. I wouldn’t have burdened myself with the stress of college while working full time and supporting a family, or acquired a love for books. I wouldn’t have dreamed of hiking and biking mountains after all those trips to the ER with crack-induced chest pain and jaw numbness. But I’ve done and continue to do these things, because, maybe, I’m on a Pink Cloud.

It comes down to this: If a person is bold enough to ignore those messages about the dangers of drugs and come out alive on the other side, then he or she is bold enough to ignore messages about the dangers of dreaming and taking risks. Let’s be honest—since that’s what recovery is about—an addict needs to get high. And he’s not going to do that by taking the middle road. Instead, he must saddle the Pink Cloud, or bareback it if necessary, and ride it wherever it takes him, sunset or storm.