Cure (poem)

Darkness draining from your bones.
Left to drip and dry alone.
Brand new life breathed into thee
Slowly thy began to see.
A hundred years of wounds and scars
All shut before the shining stars.

A trembled shift unto your knees.
Almost dropped by a passing breeze.
On shaking feet you try to stand,
and fall but catch the ground in hand.
Till at once we lift you up.
With unseen hands you’ll learn to trust.
A flash of light beams from the sky
With messages that flood the eyes.
Suddenly your not so cold.
No longer feeling wretched and old.
Cracked old skin feels new and smooth.
No longer does it hurt to move.

The energy that courses through
Hath been cleansed, again renewed.
You shed your chains and than your locks
Traded pains for spirit drops.

So if your heart is filled with hate
Take control of your own fate,
So long as your soul survives
The mind can always be revived.
Before your spirit turns to gray
Become the cure you need today.

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Tragedy (poem)

Take my hand and follow me,
We’ll show you what you need to see.
A forest coated deep in ash,
A plane that’s just about to crash.
A man who hides his wedding ring
To fool some drunken pretty thing.

A plague that travels coast to coast.
A lonely soul who’s feared by most.
One who fails to understand,
The feelings of his fellow man.
He who rises just to kill.
A teenage mom strung out on pills.

A baby born into withdrawal
The stillborn never lived at all.
Mother of whom took her life
A husband grieving for his wife.
Like romeo and Juliet.
He puts the barrel to his head.

A list of things we hate to be
Yet everywhere we look you see.
The world is not a happy place,
and rarely are we ever safe.

While their hearts grow cold and bare,
The best of us begin to care.
But caring changes not a thing
No matter what the words you sing.
But maybe if you change yourself
Than you could impact something else.

The ritual (poem)

Where emerald pillars once had stood,
The ground began to crack.
Amidst the masses, clothed in hoods
The closest stumbled back.
The air grew sour, thick and dry.
Many would cower, the crowd grew shy.

In the crack was dropped a seed.
And one by one they lined to bleed.
With onyx knives they tore the skin.
Till every member had given in.
Their sacrifice of running life.
That each had spilled.
To seal the night.

Than out the cracks began to grow,
A darkened plant was rising slow.
Soon it towered over we.
It’s flowers start to bloom and bleed.
At first the crowd began to cheer.
But excitement soon was blurred by fear.
The closest to the plant had dropped.
The bulb upon the plant had popped.
Revealing tendrils, fire and teeth.
Upon our men the beast did feast.

Back into the ground it curled.
We hoped that it had left our world.
The few of us who made it out.
Had never spoke of or about.
The cult who had so instantly
Been killed off by the demon seed.

On Dreams, Time, and Spiritualism

How the lands of our dreams seem so inexplicably different. Lacking in any direction to their arrival. One cannot traipse east or westward into a dream. It requires ones conscious to relocate itself following a path which we cannot even conceive of.

Are you familiar with the term ‘breaking the fourth wall’? In a way our dreams are in fact breaking the fifth wall. For those who aren’t vivid dreamers, I suppose it can feel  lot like time travel.

This phenomena gave me the first impressions of the subjectivity of time. Time is quite a curious thing as well. Time is both objective and subjective. When you watch the clock, or leave an X on your calendar; Time is acting objectively, It can be quantified and measured.

In the same breath, Time has a peculiar ability to bend itself around you. One one is focused on work, lost in a great book, out partying, or doing whatever, notice the time passes faster.

Even being a vivid dreamer I’ve had my fair share of blank nights, where the dreams never seemed to surface, or I failed to remember them, but time passes at a faster rate from your perspective.

This is because time is funny. Time is treated as a commodity. People sell their time to organizations, churches, or companies for some form of spiritual, monetary, power, or social gain. We all know people are hungry for these things, but we restrict access by requiring one to ascend the competence hierarchy and reap the fruits of their training.

For those who don’t know what they want to do with their time, this is a great option. But if one has passion, drive, an commitment towards their noun of choice, You may be better off not selling your time and ultimately work for yourself.

My philosophy is that I work, act, and live on behalf of both myself, and the universe or god depending on how you look at it. In my opinion their one in the same. In  a sense I see the universe as a duality of god and nature. I believe the idea of god to be associated with order, purity, and Logic. Nature on the other hand I believe is associated with karma and chaos.

I see both as being equally important, essentially relying on each other whilst at the same time contradicting each other. This Hearkens back to the age old saying: Opposites attract. A paradigm I see as being essential to the universe.

The viewpoint is difficult to explain entirely, I intend to write an entire book about the way I see the world. I’ve spent a lot, perhaps too much, time stuck on this line of inquiry. Between my study of the Vedas The Quran, The Holy Bible, The King James Bible, The Latin Bible, As well as some of Carl Jung, Dostoevsky, and many different occultist texts. This combination has lead to quite a bit of psychological, spiritual Inquiry. During which I’ll admit, I nearly went insane trying to reconcile all the paradigms I had picked up from each Ideology.

I tend to see faith as more of a personal thing, with each religion, Doctrine and Holy texts are vessels which can lead one closer to individuation, I do not believe however that they are necessary nor sufficient in of itself. The experience is personal, and transcends the practice of all organize religion.

When you enter a church, you do not find god. The Priest may point you in the right direction but unfortunately most people tunnel vision and Idolize the priest, rather than turning and moving towards the enlightenment which he was trying to point to.

I suppose my take on religion has been heavily influenced by my love affair with Anarchism. This lead to a sort of DIY Religion. Unfortunately, this is how cults tend to start. Thankfully we established ourselves as an Art and Literature Collective. Therefore no obscene rules will be allowed to form, no drinking of the special kool-aid.

The Vision consists of a collective of writers, inventors, artists, musicians and the like, and we spend our time creating and bringing new ideas to life. Almost like a record label except we won’t be taking 80% of any potential monetary gain.

Well that’s my rant for this evening, I hope whoever reading got something out of this. I don’t usually write about these kind of topics, but that seems to be the direction my heart is leading me this particular evening.

I wish you all a Good Day, and once again thank you for your viewership and appreciation, we love it and It’s amazing to see people from so many different countries visiting my site. At one point I had more readers from India than I did the US!

If you want a penny for your thoughts, leave your opinion in the comments section and create the opportunity to learn from each-other.

 

30 Sketches from Drac

Drac, one of my childhood friends, has given me some of his work to publish on the site.

Drac is incredibly talented, his art work blows mine out of the water. These are a must see; especially if you enjoy Halloween and horror oriented content!

Influence from H.P Lovecraft, Edgar Allen Poe and Tim Burton can be seen pervasively throughout these works of beauty.

All uploaded artwork can be found here: Drac’s Gallery

To check out my not as impressive psychedelic themes artwork check out Alex’s Gallery

Without further ado:

Our Youtube Channel

                                    OUR CHANNEL                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Link above = A portal for connection to the musical side of our artist collective. F                            7  eatures many original songs, as well as covers, and hard jam sessions. We try to upload as consistently and as often as we can manage.

On that same note you may have noticed less frequent posts and updates. This is partly due to being busy partly lacking any good ideas at that moment. To combat this I’ve been consuming a lot of good books and filling m                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        w; now its a matter of waiting for my brain to digest all that information into Inspiration and ideas!

If you check out anything on out channel please let us know what you thought of it,

 

 

Untitled (psychological horror)

Stumbling through the hallway nearly collapsing unto your knees as you propel forward you begin to regain your position against gravity. An unfamiliar hallway surrounds you, the cheap wallpaper stained yellow from age is peeling off the walls to reveal a layer of underlying stone.

Gasping to regain your breath, you stop for a second, looking forward at the ground reveals the words “Don’t look back” spelled out on the concrete in front of you. Normally you’d be skeptical but something in your gut tells you to listen.

You press forward, the light in the hallway growing ever dimmer with each step. It’s at this point you begin to wonder where the light is even coming from. No electronic or natural light source can be detected, nor any breach in the hall.

Thoughts begin to barrage you pertaining to your whereabouts and how you got there, but ultimately you suppress them; deciding that they would be counterproductive to any potential of survival at this point.

Contrary to hope, a dead end is reached. Nausea begins to ensue as you see both corners filled with a mysterious dark red liquid. A loud piercing D minor Chord emanates from the back of the hallway, and you feel your body becoming light as a sack of feathers. The cold hard ground starts to look really comfortable. A warm disorientating euphoria comes over you as your vision begins to fade.

You slowly begin to open your eyes. You have no idea how much time has passed but you are no longer in the hallway. Upon fully opening your eyes you realize that you cannot see the ceiling, Rather than looking around you close your eyes and once again succumb to that warm luxurious sleep you were just experiencing.

Another unknown amount of time passes. You snap out of the trance and your parasympathetic nervous system begins to catapult you into fight or flight mode as you begin to take notice of your new environment.

Only two things linger in the mind at this point.

1. Find an escape.

2. Find some answers.

Propelled by your drive to survive you begin to collect your bearings. You look about the walls and notice it is covered with thousands of names. Most of them you don’t recognize but a few belong to people you know from television and other media. A lot of the names are crossed out, some  are circled, some have stars, exclamation points, or question marks  next to them and some are underlined.

You notice a couple of wooden tables. All of which are covered with drawings and printouts of documents with major sections redacted. Most of the names of the documents were also redacted so It was hard to tell what most of them were about though they looked like transcriptions of court cases , interviews, and military commission reports however this is just a guess.

You find a wooden door on the west side of the room but it doesn’t open. You find another one on the east side of the room that also doesn’t open, luckily a large portion of the bottom half of the door was kicked out and you were just barely able to squeeze through.

You find yourself at the bottom of a staircase. The words “Watch your step” are painted on the right side of the wall. You cautiously ascend the staircase. Noticing a few steps are coated in an unknown dark slippery looking substance you skip them and reach the top. A door awaits you at the summit. This one is unlocked.

You enter through and are met with a blindingly bright flash. Your memory and consciousness  fade to black before you even see the other side.

You awaken again in a strange beat down motel room. All these spontaneous blackouts and location changes are really starting to get to you. You wonder what kind of sick joke is being pulled here, and Thy you of all people were selected to undergo it. The sickening irony is that you cannot discern whether you were selected because you are lucky or unlucky. As to where that thought arose from you have no idea. The mere pursuit of that line of thought caused a drastic turn of the stomach, and so it was completely brushed over.

You quickly notice a piece of what seems like old dried notebook paper is taped to the front of your blank gray shirt. On one side it reads You Won in large bold letters. The other side reveals a weird sort of prose. It reads:

“Madness is a bit like love
They run your life,
They’re rarely enough.

Both the madman and the lover,
Bend their minds with endless lines.
Trying ever hard to find,
The sweetest bits of word and sound,
For reasons equally profound. ”

While  fairly thought provoking he had a hard time understanding how it fit into the situation. Considering it a souvenir of sorts he folded and tucked into his pocket. It’s at this point he begins to question what the words “You Won!” on the other side of the note meant.

You look around the motel room for any other clues that you might be able to find before departing. This is when you notice the bloody boot prints that littered the walls and began to wonder how and why they would be there.

Weirder yet the floor was completely clear of them. You notice a weird smell in the air coming from the motel rooms bathroom. You hesitate but ultimately decide to investigate. You turn cold and pale as you open the door, and you nearly slip into shock at the scene displayed before you.

A strange man had hung himself from his shower using some sort of cabling. There was blood all over the room though this man though clearly dead appeared not to have a scratch on him. You closed the door, not wanting to investigate any further.

Your brain tries to make you vomit several times but your stomach is empty and you merely dry heave while trying your best not to curl up in a ball and scream.  You open the motel door and run like you’ve never ran before. You briefly take notice that this hotel must be completely abandoned, you aren’t surprised.

You waste no time looking in the other rooms and make it to the staircase, slowing your pace down a bit due to remembering what happened on the stairs earlier, you descend down to ground level and find sprint down the hallway, into the abandoned lobby and out into the fresh night air of an unknown city.

[The End of part 1]