This is the most difficult thing that I have ever written in my entire life. But nothing is easy and I'm not going to be doing nothing. I've done that too often in my life and it hasn't really worked out for me. The most difficult thing a man can do is admit he has acted foolishly and selfishly. Gaining wisdom doesn't exclude one from being foolish, I think it is a requirement of it.
So it's time for a change and it's time to be completely honest and upfront about everything. I'm going to call myself out for my own bullshit and I'm going to be pulling from everything that I have learned and know. Because this is who I am. Naked and proud. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Dear Melissa and Taim,
I know I've screwed up, but I don't believe anything that I have done is unforgivable. The last two years have been the most difficult in my entire life. And it is for good reason. The path that I had been walking was one of self-destruction and hate. It is seductive in the worst ways, especially when you feel powerless and hopeless.
I left the United States never expecting to be able to return. My testifying to the German Bundestag for the NSA investigations was supposed to be the end. I mean, I had nothing but myself to give them, so I gave them everything. I invested my entire self into that inquiry. And I got a full standing ovation from everyone. I tear up thinking about how much of a humbling experience that was. To give yourself and be immediately recognized for it made all those years of shit and fear of the unknown... I had overcome with nothing but myself. But I was willing to die for the truth. That was all that mattered. It was inevitable.
I think I could probably spend a lifetime trying to describe the relief and never be able to touch more than the surface.
Behind all of that my body has been slowly failing me. I've lost over 25kg in the last 3 years, and not without a terrific struggle to keep my strength. After my accident in SERE and the subsequent dismissal and lack of health care, I had taken matters into my own hands. I would deal with it. I would push through. And for a while I thought I was making headway. Pain meds and Marijuana kept me going. I was backflipping and wrestling and weightlifting and running harder than I had when I was training for SERE because the physical pain was more tolerable than the existential pain. I took a page from the Spartan playbook and when the pain threatened to overwhelm me with, "if you give in to me then they win." And my response was "If."
The human body is not immortal like the gods and legends of yore. I knew that my fire would burn out eventually and I was going to be as a falling star. If I hit the ground then Hell would tremble at my entrance because heaven was closed to me. Like the Samurai say, "those of us that have participated in the worst that life has to offer, the killing of another human being, have no reward in the afterlife. We have to create heaven and beauty while we live."
There is a sort of freedom when you are willing to die every day. The breath in my lungs felt fresh. The pain made me feel more alive. I could feel the earth move under my feet and every beat of my heart was like the ocean waves crashing against the shore. In combination with the way that I was raised and the training that I had acquired, it was euphoria, and it kept my demons at bay.
Or, more likely than not, I was able to dance with my demons because life became a play. I had accepted that I deserved to be tortured by them just like I had deserved to be haunted by what I had done. And I don't think anyone can be a real man in our modern world until they reach that point. I had become something other than human it seemed at times. The wrath of all the wrongs that had happened to me burned with righteous rage in my stomach, and the veil of lies had burst into flames for me to see what lay beyond.
However, I still had not integrated my shadowed self into my whole being. Those quiet nights where I was alone I wrestled with him as the "Other" instead of realizing that I was fighting against myself and perpetuating my own horrible torture that even the Devil would be envious of it. And because I had only been applying Spider-Man bandages to my PTSD, I was amplifying it beyond measure.
You've seen the effects of my nightmares. Something that I never wanted to subject you to. In those times of emotional ecstasy when I was with you, those pure raw moments of lust and new love, they were changing me. There was one time when you asked me who I was because you thought I was having a psychotic break, I answered as myself, to your great relief, but I could also see the doubt building within you. I was changing because of your love and it was time to face myself.
From what I've read of Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, James Hillman, among others, is that those episodes are required for the spiritual transformation of the self. Who I had become was trying to align with who I was supposed to be. My core self was self correcting due to love. It was spiritual alchemy at its finest, strongest, and most grand.
Before when I went through the process of the Dark Night of the Soul, Albedo, and the rest, those had been refining processes. Survival, pruning. None too pleasant at all. But like the Mystic Rumi says, like clay that needs refined by heat, so does love need to be refined by pain. And like the great Rastafarian Mystic Bob Marley said, "everyone makes you suffer, you just have to find somebody worth suffering for."
But I'm also sure that your past sufferings has caused you immense pain. The biggest reason that I was attracted to you is not because you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, anyone can have physical beauty, but because I could see the strength and intelligence that had shaped you to be who you were when we met. And I remember spending Thanksgiving together at Laura's place, with all those people gathered. I read some poetry, we danced, and I knew in my heart of hearts that I would love you forever.
I'm so sorry that I let my fear poison me. I blame the idiot that wrote about me and made those videos about me. I was terrified. In my terror I had to fight back. I became obsessed and it led my imagination to make wild scenarios of harm and danger. I couldn't relax. And that is my fault. Entirely me. I should have surrendered to love instead of giving into fear.
That is a foolish mistake that I will never make again. I hope you will forgive me.
And from there, a lot of speculation could be had of what went on. For some reason you refused to listen to the advice that people had given you to trust me. There was something off about what I was doing. I was hiding the obsession of my fear and when I could no longer stand it I was hiding in the make believe worlds of video games. A poor man's excuse, but I am a poor man without you.
I should have continued my transformation, the metamorphosis. I think you directly fed off of my fear, and my newly released heart resonated with yours. I don't think I could ever blame you. But it doesn't abdicate our responsibility to one another to trust and love. It doesn't absolve us of our own responses and our own thoughts reacting to our emotions. We should have trusted one another to get through this.
However, Norway is shit. I'm going to straight out and say it. The bureaucracy, the lack of suitable help for one recovering in my condition. I never wanted you to save me, I was trying to save myself, we just didn't have the resources or understanding of the situation to make it an easy thing. So we panicked.
When things started to fall apart, I was very confused. Everyone kept telling me that it was the baby blues, hormones. Even you told me that, and your friends told you that. Why we never sought help for it was a matter of pride on our behalves, I believe. So much going on it was difficult. I missed your breaking point. I wonder if it was before I got back from the US, waiting for the Veteran's Administration to get its shit together, hoping that I could use them to get help at a distance. What we didn't know at the time, is that the Montana VA system seems to be falling to pieces. And again, we were caught in the landslide of the world's mess.
If it wasn't for you I would have given up a long time ago. If it wasn't for our son, I wouldn't have the strength I have now to bear the heartache I have. I sometimes wonder if the pain I feel is entirely my own. To be in love is to feel the pain that your lover feels. My fears and doubts say that it is my imagination plaguing me. Do I dare to hope that the pain we feel is shared? That question's answer cannot be found right now.
I never wanted to hurt anyone. I think that is why I'm in so much pain. Because I feel like I keep hurting those people that I love through my own idiocy. I withdraw because it is easier to be alone and I can justify it to myself as slowly murdering the devil of my ego. Over 10 years ago, when I last dared to actually try and love somebody, she murdered my heart and shit in the void where it had once sat. She had done everything that she could to take my power and worth away from me. It was devastating. After that I promised myself I would never ever do it again.
Then I met you. It always comes back to that. It always comes back to that I was drawn to you like a lodestone. I was caught in your gravity and you pulled at my emotions like the moon pulls at the tides. And I think that is what true love does. I wasn't ready for it. But then again, who ever is?
The ego is a terrible thing. I'm not sure it can love anything other than itself, and it does so at the cost of everything else. We can see it in our modern society as the cancer of the soul. And it has made me do some really stupid shit.
And again, you saved me from doing the worst of the stupidest shit I could have possibly done. Where in my quest to seek healing from shamans and holy people, you saved me from blindly rushing into disaster. Where I was headed down the path of self destruction by allowing people to use me for their own political purposes, you had stood up for me and kept me from losing my head. And when I had sought to punish those who had hurt me, you had brought me back from the cliff that I had been running at full speed. In all these things, and more, I had given my power away, not to these people who had wanted to abuse me, but to my ego which was blinded by pain and shame.
I had done it for so long I forgot what it was like to be normal. I had forgotten who it was that I had wanted to be because I had believed that they had taken that from me. That I would never get it back. In your wisdom, I forgot that you didn't know everything. I know now that what I have experienced was outside of your keen. Your sharp intellect made connections to what you had already known, but I believe the unknown of what was going on with me terrified you. You saw the struggle that I was dealing with. I believe I was drained of energy because I was trying to keep the darker side of my soul away. My ego was telling me that I couldn't face it. And I believed it.
I've been trying to write this for a week now. And today, the 30th of June 2017, I was hit with another reality. One of my dearest cousins died. Don Charles, husband of Quinn, who lived in Vegas, if you remember me telling you about them. I had been there shortly after I left Norway, to face my anxieties and to leave the part of my psyche there that had been damage and manipulated and shaped by the powers that be. In my deepest regrets, I didn't go visit them, because I couldn't let them see me as I had become then. A broken man struggling to hold on.
The irony of that is when I had met Don and Quinn, the military was already trying to do that and succeeding pretty well. They had shown me greater love than I can remember in a long time. When I was struggling with what I was doing they had invited me into their home. When I was in IRAQ, they sent me care packages every other week. When I needed somebody to bitch to, Don listened and gave me sage advice, reminding me of my Great Grandfather, and Quinn always had something silly to say to ease the tension. The world not only lost a great man today, I lost somebody who loved me unconditionally.
See, when I met him, I was deep in the mire of religious antagonism. The shame and hurt that I had felt inside was being projected outwards towards the people we were fighting against. Not just the "Muslims" but the "homosexuals" and other "sinners". If it wasn't for the beauty of their love that I had seen towards one another, and the care they had shown me, I'm afraid of the monster that I would have become. Worse than the monster that I am now.
I got to go to a few parties and meet some of their friends. There was an old lesbian couple who kept calling me "the breeder," Quinn had warned me that they hated everyone and were nasty but they were around because they had been around for so long in their community. They ended up showing me love and kindness too. And now, as I sit here in a VA hospital, because my pain and grief had become so overwhelming that I stopped functioning, as I sit and tried to remember myself and all those things worth the cost of living, I'm remembering their kindness that they showed to a hurt little man struggling to find his place in the world.
I'm tired of the anger and the hurt. I'm done expending my emotions for people who don't matter and who have turned their backs on me. I know my worth, I know my heart, and the power that resides within.
And I know that without you I would have never rediscovered it.
I've talked and listened to some of the Veterans here speak about their significant others. Some of them rely on them completely to get by day-to-day. Some of them express the bitterness of warring constantly over children and pride, not wanting to give each other any room to love and explore. Wanting to place one another in cages and chains, thinking that control and anger will heal the wounds that they have inflicted upon one another. I recognize myself in each of these men.
If I could go back in time, I would have simply let you go on your vacation to Australia and I would have disappeared. Ended my life before I brought you any of the pain or misery that I had brought into your life. Because unlike these other Veterans, I would have done anything and everything in my power to never hurt you. I would sacrifice my very soul, my very essence, willingly, for that. There is too much pain and suffering in the world without us adding any more to it.
Some of them have told me that I give you too much power. That I need to stand up and take control for myself, move on, fuck bitches, dominate. That's not how I operate.
In my belief, men and women are not equal. Women create life. Men do not. A man's power doesn't lie in dominating a woman, but in submitting to her. A man's love comes not from control, but the release of it. To empower your beauty and grace should be my number one priority. Because my worth is my own, it is my gold, and you are my treasure. My faith comes not from gods or anything outside of myself. My faith comes from that which I give freely. And I give you freely of myself.
Because of that, I am free to suffer the cost of life. Our lives are our own. We need to rise up and live them. For ourselves. For our son. That is all that matters in this world.
30 June 2017
26 June 2017
Now
I've traveled the world and seen many things but I've not experienced you and the mysteries you keep.
Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the law.
What is thy Will?
To what end?
To what end?
Love is the law. Love under will.
I have stood before nations,
I have stood before gods,
I have stood before eternity,
And countless other frauds.
We are judged by fools
Who know not our heart
Our passions, our loves,
The drives of our art.
Let me show you a moment
A touch of humanity
Be present right now
Let go of insanity
Do what thou wilt, shall be the whole of the law.
What is thy Will?
To what end?
To what end?
Love is the law. Love under will.
I have stood before nations,
I have stood before gods,
I have stood before eternity,
And countless other frauds.
We are judged by fools
Who know not our heart
Our passions, our loves,
The drives of our art.
Let me show you a moment
A touch of humanity
Be present right now
Let go of insanity
Growing Up
oh my son,
For that which Fate hath given,
An ocean and a continent between,
Mine heart hath found a newborn spark,
The mind's edge sharpened keen.
Broken spirit, battered bones,
Rallying at last!
A boy's first glimpse at the world
Forever running past.
I'll miss your first steps,
Me trying to keep pace
You laying on the grass,
Delight in the sun's grace.
I'll never hear the first words you've spoken,
or listen to your logic form.
See the trials that you face unbroken,
and ease the pain when you are worn.
Every day I'll sit in wonder,
At the adventures that you'll see
My love for you is all I need,
Until you're here with me.
For that which Fate hath given,
An ocean and a continent between,
Mine heart hath found a newborn spark,
The mind's edge sharpened keen.
Broken spirit, battered bones,
Rallying at last!
A boy's first glimpse at the world
Forever running past.
I'll miss your first steps,
Me trying to keep pace
You laying on the grass,
Delight in the sun's grace.
I'll never hear the first words you've spoken,
or listen to your logic form.
See the trials that you face unbroken,
and ease the pain when you are worn.
Every day I'll sit in wonder,
At the adventures that you'll see
My love for you is all I need,
Until you're here with me.
22 June 2017
Something Different: Dungeons & Dragons
Figured somebody would enjoy reading this here. Names have been changed enough to protect the innocent.
Dylan- Vactor, a drow rogue/magus
Nathan- Peregrine, an Asimaar paladin/oracle
Oshalor- Gregg and Mr. Scoots, A paraplegic dwarf ranger/barbarian, that rides a diabetic bear.
Nicola- Lilith, A human ranger/cleric
Jon- Nibo, A goblin gunslinger/sniper rogue
Locke- Oathis, a half-elf monk/aberration bloodline sorcerer
Wayne- the all powerful and knowing Dungeon Master
Tossing the Dice
It was a strange symbol etched into the ground. Partially obscured in mud, Vactor had nearly missed it. Why would the entrance to the sewers be warded? Was it to keep people out, or to trap something within? He hoped it wasn’t the latter because that would mean his scouting of the area was probably going to get him in trouble. Just like the evening he checked out the Rat Catcher’s guild only to find everyone in it murdered...
“Well, what are you going to do?” The Dungeon Master lazily inquired behind his screen of secrecy. His laptop lighting up his face making the plastered grin almost sinister.
“Can I use spellcraft to figure out what the ward does?” Dylan asks. A twenty sided die pinched between his forefinger and thumb.
“Are you just going to look at it or are you going to try to remove the mud?” The DM asks in an amused tone.
“I’ll just look for now.” After rolling his die and doing some calculations,”that would be a twenty-four.”
Wayne casually looks at his laptop screen,” You know that the ward is very complex but what you see of it only tells you it is a warning system for whomever created it.”
Dylan pauses to think for a few seconds,” then I’m going to clean the mud and hopefully not trigger it.”
Leaning forward the DM says in a low, rasping voice, “Then roll.”
Using his masterwork Thief kit, Vactor slowly clears the sewer entrance of mud and refuse. He uncovers more wards on the sides of the wall and two on the ceiling. Careful not to touch them, Vactor looks deep into the essence of the web of wards...
Dylan makes eye contact with the Dungeon Master, “I’m going to make a knowledge: arcana and disable device roll.”
“Go for it,” Wayne smirks.
The wards are more complex than Vactor could have imagined on a simple world like this. They did not originate here and were a telling sign that him and his team were close to their quarry. He could see that these wards not only created a web amongst themselves but were tied to others, creating a circuit of magic. With no discernable way to disable the wards, Vactor gathers a few stones the size of his fist and decides he wants to throw it across the entryway.
Moving to the mouth of the alley, Vactor makes sure no one is around to investigate just incase the wards ignite. He now notices that the area is devoid of any life. Red flags go off in his head but he feels the need to finish his current objective and get back to the team with his findings.
Finding a good angle, Vactor throws one of the stones. A piercing scream knocks him to his back as a dark figure steps out of the entrance of the sewer.
“And?!?” Dylan shouts with indignation.
“You’re going to have to wait your turn,” Wayne laughs. “I need to catch the rest of the team up to you.”
The Dungeon Master looks around to the others,” Tell me what you are doing while Dylan’s character scouts out the possible sewer entry point.”
Nathan glances at Wayne, “Okay, my character is in our makeshift stable...”
Peregrine checks his warhorse over again to make sure everything is in order. He is being watched by the little girl that they rescued from the dark ritual that had been held in this very house not two days ago. Realizing that he is retightening a strap that doesn’t need to, Peregrine turns to the girl with a questioning look.
She sat on the kitchen counter kicking her little feet, eating an apple, and humming a small tune. But while her mannerisms portrayed that of a little girl no older than eight, her eyes burned with knowledge and wisdom far beyond her years. Peregrine realizes that he is staring when she clears her throat and cocks her head to the side in an inquisitive manner.
“I just realized that no one has asked you your name or where you are from.” The Paladin says light heartedly.
“So?” The little girl shrugs her shoulders. “Ain’t no one cared before. I don't see why anyone would now.”
“We’re taking care of you now. We’ll find those people responsible for doing that to you.” Peregrine says, leaning forward to look into her eyes at level.
“I don’t remember much anything except being scared of the men like the guy that was found downstairs.” Her eyes tear up, “Then being nailed to the wall while they used magic on me.”
“Shhhh. Shhhhh. We won’t let that happen again...” Peregrine hugs her as his voice trails off.
“Morghan. Call me Morghan.”
Nathan’s face takes on a look of confusion, “That’s a pretty mundane name. I was going to name her Falcon, you know, since she didn’t remember anything.”
“Okay then, we’ll just go with that. I kinda pulled that one out of my ass anyways. Didn’t expect you to keep her with you. But I’ll improvise. That’s what I do.” Wayne scratches his head in thought, “Now what about the rest of you.”
The Harwuda siblings and Jon look at eachother before all talking at once.
“I’m just sitting on Scoots waiting to go.” shrugs Oshalor.
“And I’m ready for the signal!” exclaims Nicola.
“I guess I’m trying to figure out if this robot is friendly or not,” Jon grumbles.
The Dungeon Master holds his hands up, “Woah! One at a time. Jon, you first. Wait, all of you, roll perception checks.”
The dice all roll in the middle of the table map. Wayne does a few calculations in his head then looks at Oshalor. “Roll for Scoots too. You can roll both perception and survival since he is a bear and all.” The final die rolls across the table and stops behind the Dungeon Master Screen.
Wayne leans over the table to see what was on the face of the die, then looks up at the group. In his best Dungeon Master’s voice he rasps, “Prepare yourselves for battle!”
The only warning anybody got was Scoot the Bear’s growling towards the front door before two writhing masses of flesh burst through the front wall. The undulating flesh not holding one solid form like they could not make up their minds. Mouths, eyes, teeth, claws, appendages, and other orifices appear and disappear at random intervals throughout the creature’s bodies. The team moves in and attacks before the creatures of nightmare could react.
The little green goblin, Nibo, takes aim at the one on the left with his rifle and expels all six shots in the blink of an eye. The fiery beams burn a hole clean through the monster and dismember a tentacle that was readying to swipe at Scoots the Bear. As he reloads the reprogrammed robot stands in front of Nibo to give him some protection.
Gregg, the incredibly ugly and smelly dwarf, charges the creature on the right while riding his bear Scoots. Roaring with mindless fury, he almost seems to lose himself as he uses his rage to pummel into the monster. His magical axe, Furyborn, cleaving it in two. In response, both halves attack and grab him, attempting to pull him apart.
“I’m going to make a knowledge check to figure out what these things are.” Nicola states as she surveys the battle.
“Go for it,” Wayne says as he is writing something down behind his Dungeon Master’s screen of secrecy. He folds the note up and hands it to Dylan. “Don’t let anyone else see that yet.”
Opening up the letter Dylan raises an eyebrow at the DM. “Are you sure you want me to do this?”
“Yes. Complete it however you want I just want that as the end result. Now Nicola, what did you roll.”
“A sixteen.”
“Well, good enough for the basics. This is a Shulgolth. It is a creature of evil and chaos. They scour the dimensional planes destroying life when they find it. It is also a shapeshifter, to the point that its mass will always stay the same if not its shape. Unless the thing consumes a sentient being and adds it to... itself.”
“Do I know how to harm it?” Nicola asks.
“Fire and Light do permanent damage to it. Everything else is just superficial. Anyone else going to do anything?”
Nathan perks up, “Yes and here is what I’m going to do...”
Light bursts from the makeshift stable that was once a kitchen. Peregrine throws open the doorway and charges the nearest creature as Lilith shoots an arrow at one of the Shulgoth’s holding Gregg. When his divine light touches the creatures they start burning, but they don’t shy away. Instead they turn their focus upon the Paladin.
Yelling a command in an unknown language, Peregrine’s shield and sword light up in flame. Stepping up with to the largest of the Shulgoth’s, he bashes it with his shield blackening its flesh and causing the thing’s many mouths to scream in pain. Before it can react, Peregrine stabs his flaming sun sword into the fleshy mass’s center and the Shulgoth explodes, sending flaming pieces of goo all around the room.
“AWWW, YEAH! Critical hit!” Nathan excitedly jumps out of his seat, throwing his fists up in the air in victory. “I used all my most powerful spells right there!”
Wayne frowns at the computer screen in front of him. “Damn...” He purses his lips in thought, tapping his right forefinger on them. “Well, you left your ally alone. Oshalor, roll a strength check for me. Actually, roll four of them.”
Grimacing, Oshalor tosses his dice on the table. “Umm... Let’s see... That would be a twenty-three, a fourteen, an eighteen, and a twenty-seven.” He looks at Wayne expectantly.
“Ouch, I’m sorry man.” The Dungeon Master holds up his four-side die. “One for the right leg, two for the left leg, three for the right arm, and four for the left arm. That fourteen didn’t pass the difficulty check.” He casually tosses the die on the table.
“That’s when my rogue leaps through one of the openings in the front wall of the house.” Dylan interrupts. “I’m going to use one arcane point and put flaming on my short sword. I attack the one on Gregg’s right.”
“Let us continue the fight, shall we?” Wayne says with a smile, looking at where the four sided die stopped.
As the large Shulgoth crumbles into ash, Peregrine turns around to see Gregg’s right arm get ripped off and consumed while a shadowy figure leaps from the darkness to skewer the offending beast. The shadow then dashes to the other half of the monster to prevent any further damage. As he gets there two arrows streak from across the room and bury themselves into the Shulgoth, causing its many mouths to echo its pain. Before Peregrine or the shadow, revealing itself to be Vactor, can do anything, a beam of fire burns the creature to cinders but also causing Gregg to catch on fire.
With no more enemies to be killed, Lilith runs to Gregg and casts a healing spell. She stops the blood loss but his arm is permanently gone unless they can find a priest of sufficient power. Which will not be on this world. She sighs as she wonders aloud if they’ll be able to complete the task set before them.
Vactor’s magical mask dissolves as he starts speaking, “I’ve got some good news and some bad news everyone. I have confirmed that our target, Leviathan, has an agent or even himself hidden in the sewers. The bad news is that whatever is down there, has Oathis under mind control guarding it.”
“What the FUCK Wayne?!” Nicola gasps, planting her hands on the table and leaning towards the Dungeon Master. “Does Locke know that you’re using her character like that while she is away for work?”
“Yeah she was in on it the whole time. Don’t worry I have this all figured out. It’s my duty to improvise and she still wants to play when she gets back. Locke also really likes this character so I figured I would keep her in the story till then.” Wayne shrugs as he closes his laptop. “Besides, did you think I wouldn’t throw in a few twists for you guys?”
“I’m going to kill her,” Jon states matter-of-factly. “Nibo doesn’t like her.”
“You’re going to have to do it next time then,” Wayne looks at his watch. “I need to get up early if nobody minds us calling it for the night.”
“But... But... My arm!” Oshalor cries.
“You’ll think of something,” Nicola says as she goes to sit next to her brother.
“Crap like this always happens to me.” He interjects.
“Aww, poor baby. Stop charging into combat then.” Nicola ruffles his hair.
Picking his backpack and maps up, Wayne heads for the door. “Good night everyone, I’ll see you all next week.”
21 June 2017
The Path
Remember, my son
not all seek the Truth
some hide from the Light
others try to break it
those are whom hate themselves
they are the fakers
the misers, false prophets
and deceivers
not all seek the Truth
some hide from the Light
others try to break it
those are whom hate themselves
they are the fakers
the misers, false prophets
and deceivers
Be not like them!
Guard your little heart
seek your own path
challenge yourself, know thyself
so that none may stand against you
many will try
they are the external
challenging the internal
Guard your little heart
seek your own path
challenge yourself, know thyself
so that none may stand against you
many will try
they are the external
challenging the internal
You are a gift of creation
Love's eternal promise
understand your morals
persevere with your ethics
the search for inner truth
runs deep within our veins
sharpen your willpower as a blade
cut through the deception
Love's eternal promise
understand your morals
persevere with your ethics
the search for inner truth
runs deep within our veins
sharpen your willpower as a blade
cut through the deception
Let not heartbreak deter you
compassion and balance is key
the reward is emotional stability.
when the messenger of romance
calls you to adventure
take nothing but what you need
start with her at the beginning
the fruits of your labor you will see
compassion and balance is key
the reward is emotional stability.
when the messenger of romance
calls you to adventure
take nothing but what you need
start with her at the beginning
the fruits of your labor you will see
The material world is a Devil
do not believe it's doubts
of your true potential.
Celebrate within, Child of Creation's Grace
let intuition help you find your gifts
find your inner strength!
Be brave, my son, and focus
my Love is the Star to guide your way.
do not believe it's doubts
of your true potential.
Celebrate within, Child of Creation's Grace
let intuition help you find your gifts
find your inner strength!
Be brave, my son, and focus
my Love is the Star to guide your way.
20 June 2017
Remember
I have wasted my time
With many things
And maybe one
Was Love.
Was Love.
It's not the look
That passed her eye
Or the light touch
Upon my hands,
It's not the desperate
And sweaty sex,
Passion that burns
Like the stars above.
The long talks
Fade away
Spoken word vanishing
From thought,
True emotion rises
To the surface.
The walks along
City streets
Become twisted
Among vulnerability and fear
Ourselves are hard to find.
If only I had remembered
That Love comes from within
And the heart is
Stronger than the mind.
19 June 2017
Senka Mojeg Srca
Here is my father's day post then I'll be gone for a very long time. Fuck. I don't even know if I want to rejoin society after this.
I didn't have a father growing up. He had his own reasons, but I'm guessing that he really just didn't want the responsibility at that age. He had other goals to attain.
My entire goal in life was to be a father. I had thought that I had to give it up or indefinitely delay it. After Julian Assange's sexual allegations and my own sexual misadventures I had given everything up. I wasn't going to risk everything on petty lust. Plus I had riddled myself with guilt and self loathing enough to just simply want to die. No one wants to have sex with that and I was perfectly fine with it. Too many people let sex be a driving force for their lives instead taking time to learn how to direct it how they want it to go. Too many outside influences. Too many mistakes could happen. Too many this and thats.
The introduction of the Mother of my Child changed everything about how I was approaching life. I was no longer the Grim Dreamer, though that shade has come to haunt me again these last few months. And I tell you, no other woman that I have ever met has caused me to make me want to change direction that i was heading in life.
She was the entire goal in the first place. Love or death. I had to find a treasure worth pursuing besides my own untimely end. Because the ending comes for each of us but the adventure to call us forth from that miserly trudge is worth pursuing in all it's tragic and agonizing forms.
I think if I have learned anything at all in my life, it's that love is the only thing worth pursuing. It's the only thing worth believing in and giving. The ordered universe might say this, and god might say that. But I am a fucking man, goddamnit, and my cries of angish demand to be heard.
Our society is damned. We can hope for the best but we have damned the future of our species to fighting over fictional representations of time instead of exploring the wonders that creation even has to offer us.
And instead of me being able to enjoy it with my son and wife and family, those agonizingly precious seconds of hope and memory are life.
We can pretend to be all tough and animal. Proud and defiant. I refuse to pretend that everything is alright with how we are behaving towards one another. How hate and agony spread like a disease being sewn into the very fabric of our species. Is this who we have become after all this time?
Have we not learned a thing?
And so my advice is to surrender to the pain. Surrender to the inevitability. Live each moment like you are grasping for breath. Search for love like it is the only thing worth finding. And I hope some day that you find it, son. Because I did and I broke it.
Cherish it when you do find it. It is a precious thing. And be sure to not just give it to any old gal. You'll find the one and she'll tear you to pieces after you've already been torn assunder.
And that is the process that is needed to find that inside which motivates us to see the light of day. Because how can we not glorify the coming of the dawn. The courage of having braved the darkest parts of the soul. You have to discover what you would feel rather than? right?
I have seen and felt enough sorrow. I do not want that to go forward into our world.
As I watch the clock tick towards midnight, I find myself hoping that at the last second, reality would fix itself. But it seems that the reward for faithfulness is yet to be seen.
In the effort to end on a note of love, if sorrowful and full of grief, to remember that which is pure and true, to all men who seek within and without, nothing is so wonderful and destroying as love. I hope you seek it as fiercely as I have. I hope you don't make my mistakes.
18 June 2017
I Shall
I shall love you today and tomorrow, my love...
And in all the tomorrows there are...
I shall love you as long as there lingers a song...
And in the sky has a single star...
In the spring when the wind is a gentle breeze...
And the rain and the roses are here...
In the summery days when the friendly rays...
Of the golden sun appear...
In the lonely lap of the autumn months...
Where the beautiful leaves must fall...
And again in the night when the fields are white...
In the folds of their wintery shawl...
I shall love you while ever a mountain stands...
And the waves of the ocean pass...
And until the sands of the farthest lands...
Have run through the hourglass...
I shall love you as much as my heart can love...
Wherever, my love, you are...
I shall love you as long as there lingers a song...
And the sky has a single star.
Desire
How many times
Must I ask for forgiveness
Before it takes root in my heart?
My desire is truth
My desire is you.
How many times
Shall rage overwhelm me
When bitterness is scarring my soul?
My desire is wisdom
My desire is you.
How many times
Has love calmed the storm
Devouring the soul you healed?
My desire is strength
My desire is you.
How many times
Is the question indeed
Before all has become evident?
My desire is you
My desire is only you.
Must I ask for forgiveness
Before it takes root in my heart?
My desire is truth
My desire is you.
How many times
Shall rage overwhelm me
When bitterness is scarring my soul?
My desire is wisdom
My desire is you.
How many times
Has love calmed the storm
Devouring the soul you healed?
My desire is strength
My desire is you.
How many times
Is the question indeed
Before all has become evident?
My desire is you
My desire is only you.
17 June 2017
Asked
you asked me once
if I had feared
losing you
and I said
no
you walked away
I had faith
you would stay
with absolute conviction
and here
I wait
for you
A Voice in the Wilderness
I know that however I approach my current situation I have to be open and honest and clear because it's been my safety in the past. I've learned from my mistakes, and I'm willing to make more. I'm placing my perceptions out into the open because I really have no idea what is going on. I've already placed the smattering of, "what the fuck does this mean?" and I've gotten nothing but a "you're smearing my name." I can't help but feel that is a confirmation of the deepest form of dread in this whole situation. That the woman who is the mother of my child never actually loved me. And I was played a fool again.
This is really my fault. Because I really think she could have. And remember, this is only the perspective that I've had after reviewing everything. My perspective could be fucked up, twisted, warped. The light in which I have to explore this cavernous maw is dim anyways, from wasting energy along with wear and tear. I gave my faith over to somebody who probably didn't want it and may have felt that I had burdened her with a responsibility that she didn't want nor deserve. It was new, and scary for me. I was free of my self appointed responsibility but had no idea which direction that I wanted to go. A 30 year old man, who for the first time in well over a decade wasn't driven by guilt and self loathing. I had survived and I didn't know what that really meant.
The stalkers and the threats from internet bullies were a harsh almost daily reminder of those silent and violent individuals who decide to take manners in their own hands. I knew if somebody called me a traitor and a liar there was somebody out there who would believe it enough in our world to do something about it. That's an unfair situation to put anyone through. Then we went on vacation, my first real vacation since our family trips in high school. To Australia. It was amazing, but I can't help that I had brought a damper into it with my dazed state. That maybe her trip would have been met with the man of her dreams and a forever living a free life down under. But with that trip she saved my life and she won my devotion.
We saw an opera after missing a boat then got a free ride from a nice Australian Gentleman. It was chaotic enough to get life moving through my limbs again. And all I wanted to do was explore this new world with her and through her eyes. I mistakenly opened up about my need for sexual exploration, but my idea was that I wanted to do it within her boundaries, while expressing that I was up for nearly anything so long as it was discussed first. But I didn't care what it was (mostly) as long as it was with her. At that point I was more interested in Tantra and the spiritual side of things. I had some pretty bizarre experiences that I'd rather not repeat. I was judged for them and that was weird. What I had done wasn't that bad. I laughed about an instance with an ex and I on Chatroullette (South Park has an episode about it), she wasn't too impressed. And I opened up about my mistaken past love, which was drug and desperation fueled. The love that I felt with Melissa was clean and free of all that.
In an effort to heal myself from my own internal hate I had undertaken an effort of forgiveness towards those that had betrayed me. I didn't want her to be affected by my past, and I had kept her away from my Drone bullshit as much as possible. I fumbled my words when trying to explain that my showing kindness towards my ex was my way of trying to be the better person. I still believe and behave that way, to everyone I can. Because that was how my grandfather taught me through his actions.
A few months later my kindness backfired on me when the ex tried to come back to me and asked me if having a child with her was really what I wanted. And duh it was exactly what I want(ed). So I cut her out of my life. Completely. But it wasn't enough and my stupidity hurt our relationship.
Her getting pregnant, again, saved me from acting desperately out of fear. I was afraid for my family, friends, and dog. I had started trying to track down people and try to utilize my military experience to keep a record of people I thought might be dangerous to me. It was the worst obsession that I had ever had and it had been completely driven by fear. And in order to escape that fear when she wasn't around, I turned to video games.
I wonder if her accusing me of being addicted to porn (the fear didn't do well for our sex life, again, my fault completely), was due to the fact that when she left for work I'd be sitting at the computer in my underwear and when she'd get back I'd be struggling to make myself look presentable instead of a bum. I'd get caught up in the political bullshit that was happening in the USA, get lost on Reddit and other social media and forum platforms, watching the development of filthpits like /r/Donald and the rise of whatever it is group that wants to call themselves something. And it did affect me physiologically.
After placing myself out there, heart and soul, it was extremely difficult to watch my country devolve into the state that it is in. But I'm now wondering if it just has always been this way and that I was a dumb idealist.
I feel like everything in my life can be summed down into that last sentence.
I mean, really, what was there that I could have done? I am only a Montana kid who stepped up and did what I thought was right. I have no money and the only power that I have had is through the words I've spoken. I'm not a great leader, though I would say that I am a great loner, who was finally learning to not be alone.
I should have just dedicated myself to what I wanted rather than let other people tell me what I should do. I'm 31 years old and I still fall for that.
And for her I can see how being alone and pregnant can be a terrifying thing. My having to deal with the VA healthcare system and that it's falling to pieces delayed me getting back to her. If she found comfort somewhere else, then it is my fault for not making her my number 1 priority when she absolutely should have been.
I had brought her out to Montana and we drove around the western USA from Missoula, to New Orleans, to LA, then up the coast back home. What an adventure. Difficult, and testing, but one of the best times I think that I had ever had. We were a regular Bonnie and Clyde.
Oh, yeah and I had my car stolen by a "friend." She reminded me that I use that one too freely.
But in the end, I have no idea what she is doing. I have no one talking with me. Maybe again I trusted the decency of strangers and people to be open and honest in a civilized society. They called themselves "enlightened."
I wish to believe that my actions can be forgiven. But all I am is a voice crying in anguish in the wilderness whose only comfort is the memory of love. I hope that peace can be reached. I hope. I hope. I hope.
If I have to beg, openly beg, I don't care anymore. I won't grovel. I will be seen and this will be brought to light. I'm not going to be another lost soul who falsely trusted love's lure. I want to believe that love overcomes all. True and absolute. I want to believe, but I'm afraid I'm a fool. Please prove me wrong.
This is really my fault. Because I really think she could have. And remember, this is only the perspective that I've had after reviewing everything. My perspective could be fucked up, twisted, warped. The light in which I have to explore this cavernous maw is dim anyways, from wasting energy along with wear and tear. I gave my faith over to somebody who probably didn't want it and may have felt that I had burdened her with a responsibility that she didn't want nor deserve. It was new, and scary for me. I was free of my self appointed responsibility but had no idea which direction that I wanted to go. A 30 year old man, who for the first time in well over a decade wasn't driven by guilt and self loathing. I had survived and I didn't know what that really meant.
The stalkers and the threats from internet bullies were a harsh almost daily reminder of those silent and violent individuals who decide to take manners in their own hands. I knew if somebody called me a traitor and a liar there was somebody out there who would believe it enough in our world to do something about it. That's an unfair situation to put anyone through. Then we went on vacation, my first real vacation since our family trips in high school. To Australia. It was amazing, but I can't help that I had brought a damper into it with my dazed state. That maybe her trip would have been met with the man of her dreams and a forever living a free life down under. But with that trip she saved my life and she won my devotion.
We saw an opera after missing a boat then got a free ride from a nice Australian Gentleman. It was chaotic enough to get life moving through my limbs again. And all I wanted to do was explore this new world with her and through her eyes. I mistakenly opened up about my need for sexual exploration, but my idea was that I wanted to do it within her boundaries, while expressing that I was up for nearly anything so long as it was discussed first. But I didn't care what it was (mostly) as long as it was with her. At that point I was more interested in Tantra and the spiritual side of things. I had some pretty bizarre experiences that I'd rather not repeat. I was judged for them and that was weird. What I had done wasn't that bad. I laughed about an instance with an ex and I on Chatroullette (South Park has an episode about it), she wasn't too impressed. And I opened up about my mistaken past love, which was drug and desperation fueled. The love that I felt with Melissa was clean and free of all that.
In an effort to heal myself from my own internal hate I had undertaken an effort of forgiveness towards those that had betrayed me. I didn't want her to be affected by my past, and I had kept her away from my Drone bullshit as much as possible. I fumbled my words when trying to explain that my showing kindness towards my ex was my way of trying to be the better person. I still believe and behave that way, to everyone I can. Because that was how my grandfather taught me through his actions.
A few months later my kindness backfired on me when the ex tried to come back to me and asked me if having a child with her was really what I wanted. And duh it was exactly what I want(ed). So I cut her out of my life. Completely. But it wasn't enough and my stupidity hurt our relationship.
Her getting pregnant, again, saved me from acting desperately out of fear. I was afraid for my family, friends, and dog. I had started trying to track down people and try to utilize my military experience to keep a record of people I thought might be dangerous to me. It was the worst obsession that I had ever had and it had been completely driven by fear. And in order to escape that fear when she wasn't around, I turned to video games.
I wonder if her accusing me of being addicted to porn (the fear didn't do well for our sex life, again, my fault completely), was due to the fact that when she left for work I'd be sitting at the computer in my underwear and when she'd get back I'd be struggling to make myself look presentable instead of a bum. I'd get caught up in the political bullshit that was happening in the USA, get lost on Reddit and other social media and forum platforms, watching the development of filthpits like /r/Donald and the rise of whatever it is group that wants to call themselves something. And it did affect me physiologically.
After placing myself out there, heart and soul, it was extremely difficult to watch my country devolve into the state that it is in. But I'm now wondering if it just has always been this way and that I was a dumb idealist.
I feel like everything in my life can be summed down into that last sentence.
I mean, really, what was there that I could have done? I am only a Montana kid who stepped up and did what I thought was right. I have no money and the only power that I have had is through the words I've spoken. I'm not a great leader, though I would say that I am a great loner, who was finally learning to not be alone.
I should have just dedicated myself to what I wanted rather than let other people tell me what I should do. I'm 31 years old and I still fall for that.
And for her I can see how being alone and pregnant can be a terrifying thing. My having to deal with the VA healthcare system and that it's falling to pieces delayed me getting back to her. If she found comfort somewhere else, then it is my fault for not making her my number 1 priority when she absolutely should have been.
I had brought her out to Montana and we drove around the western USA from Missoula, to New Orleans, to LA, then up the coast back home. What an adventure. Difficult, and testing, but one of the best times I think that I had ever had. We were a regular Bonnie and Clyde.
Oh, yeah and I had my car stolen by a "friend." She reminded me that I use that one too freely.
But in the end, I have no idea what she is doing. I have no one talking with me. Maybe again I trusted the decency of strangers and people to be open and honest in a civilized society. They called themselves "enlightened."
I wish to believe that my actions can be forgiven. But all I am is a voice crying in anguish in the wilderness whose only comfort is the memory of love. I hope that peace can be reached. I hope. I hope. I hope.
If I have to beg, openly beg, I don't care anymore. I won't grovel. I will be seen and this will be brought to light. I'm not going to be another lost soul who falsely trusted love's lure. I want to believe that love overcomes all. True and absolute. I want to believe, but I'm afraid I'm a fool. Please prove me wrong.
14 June 2017
Open Letter to My Son 1.0
My Dearest Taim,
I'm sorry that I have to communicate with you this way. I've given up on all other options and I have really no idea what is happening or what has happened. What I do know is that what has happened between your mother and I is the single biggest regret that I will ever have. I do not regret that I have loved her, I regret that she believes that I have not loved her enough. What I can't comprehend is whether what happened was driven by subconscious fear or deliberate malice. Not to say that I blame her or anyone. This last year was the most confusing and terrifying of my entire life. I had tried to keep her separate from it all while I tried to drag myself away.
I also believe that my ego couldn't let go of the idea that I had taken up the unfortunate mantle of responsibility to help instigate change of awareness in our modern society. And I had no idea what the fuck that even meant. It's what people kept telling me. And I've had this tendency to believe what people tell me about myself. I've lost my identity, who I believed myself to be, enough times that I only care to be.
I tell you that because that's an important lesson to learn and I would be a poor father if I didn't pass on what I've learned. The only thing you are is the moment. Through whatever turmoil that you experience, you are your best guide. Approach every situation with an open and vulnerable heart, and be prepared to have everything you believe in destroyed, it's inevitable weather it is now or the future. If you worry about the future, you cannot love the now. And you'll miss out on what I have.
The other evening I had a dream, where I woke up from this nightmare. You were laying between your mother and I, asleep, and I cried, couldn't stop kissing your mother's face. She laughed and asked me what was wrong and all I could say was to remember that I loved her. As the scene faded away I heard you laugh, my mother say that breakfast was ready, and everything was perfect in the world. I wish that scenario was true. I feel both of your loss as a knife in my heart. I hope that some iteration of the universe it is true. That's a comforting thought.
And here is another piece of advice: Only true love can make every pain bearable to feel. Even though my dream has ended up different than reality, I cannot forget that the reason I have held on for so long is because I have loved your mother. The reason I have felt the fear that I did was I had thought that my stupid idea to put my head on the chopping block was going to take away the one precious thing that I had found. Fear and love clashed like titans and I was caught in the middle of them.
I still feel them clash every moment. No matter what your mother had said to me, I had always had this weird faith that "love would overcome." Maybe it has in a way that I had never expected. When you were born, the love that I had felt that had been ignited by your mother burst into a super nova. Everything that I had feared lurking in the darkness no longer mattered. You were the final ingredient I needed to heal my wounded heart and I realized that nothing else mattered but you and your mother.
Maybe it's too late. Maybe I'm the universal fool who discovered the key of life at the cost of being able to live it. Maybe I'm a madman lost in the hope that what I have heard and think I believe about the reasons why I am not there with you and your mother are not true. That all I have fought for, all that I believe in, if not in the name of Love what else is worthy? I would willingly throw myself through annihilation until the end of time to fix all my mistakes. I would rather feel a thousand thousand different types of pain than the one I feel now of sorrow for being away from you and her. Wondering if the things I believe are true only because I fear that they are.
But I'm alone, and this is the only way that I can maybe express myself. And if not now, maybe it will be public record when you're old enough. You are my strength through this pain. I dream and hope that I'll be able to watch you discover the world. Develop your talents and skills. I wish to be the father I never had. I wish I could have also be the husband my father never could be.
I sit here every day and stare at your pictures. I want to be able to recognize you and see how handsome you become. I imagine I can hear you laugh and speak your babble. I want to see the world through your eyes and never miss a moment of your discovery. I miss you so much. At times I feel like I can't breathe. I wish I knew exactly what was going on. It's so confusing. I wish I could fix it.
Were my hopes and dreams born of childish naivety? Yes, I won't deny it. Was I completely unprepared for starting a new life? Absolutely. But I needed it. Otherwise I would died in more ways than physical.
Your mother is really a beautiful woman. I wouldn't have held on so long under her relentless malice if I had not been absolutely devoted to her. If I hadn't felt so comforted by her understanding of the dark side of the psyche, because I was only just discovering it myself. I had believed she would be able to recognize what was happening and took for granted that I might fall well outside of the realms of her knowledge. What does one do with a wounded warrior? I imagined our scenario many different ways but I think my favorite was the idea of how World War II nurses fell in love with wounded soldiers. My new favorite is the Wonder Woman scenario from the new movie. She just so happened to step in to rescue me from the fascists I was running from. And she's exotic. A spellbound witch. And I fucking love it. It frustrates the hell out of me.
Again, I can't help but feel a bit childish in this. I can't help but feel that this contributed to my struggles. And while I do not want you to lose your childhood, I need you to understand how to cherish it and not let it be the devastating weapon of destruction it was to my life. It will be many years before you are even capable of reading let alone understand what I'm saying. I sometimes I wonder if I make any sense at all.
Just know that you are loved and I'll be waiting.
Love,
Dad
I'm sorry that I have to communicate with you this way. I've given up on all other options and I have really no idea what is happening or what has happened. What I do know is that what has happened between your mother and I is the single biggest regret that I will ever have. I do not regret that I have loved her, I regret that she believes that I have not loved her enough. What I can't comprehend is whether what happened was driven by subconscious fear or deliberate malice. Not to say that I blame her or anyone. This last year was the most confusing and terrifying of my entire life. I had tried to keep her separate from it all while I tried to drag myself away.
I also believe that my ego couldn't let go of the idea that I had taken up the unfortunate mantle of responsibility to help instigate change of awareness in our modern society. And I had no idea what the fuck that even meant. It's what people kept telling me. And I've had this tendency to believe what people tell me about myself. I've lost my identity, who I believed myself to be, enough times that I only care to be.
I tell you that because that's an important lesson to learn and I would be a poor father if I didn't pass on what I've learned. The only thing you are is the moment. Through whatever turmoil that you experience, you are your best guide. Approach every situation with an open and vulnerable heart, and be prepared to have everything you believe in destroyed, it's inevitable weather it is now or the future. If you worry about the future, you cannot love the now. And you'll miss out on what I have.
The other evening I had a dream, where I woke up from this nightmare. You were laying between your mother and I, asleep, and I cried, couldn't stop kissing your mother's face. She laughed and asked me what was wrong and all I could say was to remember that I loved her. As the scene faded away I heard you laugh, my mother say that breakfast was ready, and everything was perfect in the world. I wish that scenario was true. I feel both of your loss as a knife in my heart. I hope that some iteration of the universe it is true. That's a comforting thought.
And here is another piece of advice: Only true love can make every pain bearable to feel. Even though my dream has ended up different than reality, I cannot forget that the reason I have held on for so long is because I have loved your mother. The reason I have felt the fear that I did was I had thought that my stupid idea to put my head on the chopping block was going to take away the one precious thing that I had found. Fear and love clashed like titans and I was caught in the middle of them.
I still feel them clash every moment. No matter what your mother had said to me, I had always had this weird faith that "love would overcome." Maybe it has in a way that I had never expected. When you were born, the love that I had felt that had been ignited by your mother burst into a super nova. Everything that I had feared lurking in the darkness no longer mattered. You were the final ingredient I needed to heal my wounded heart and I realized that nothing else mattered but you and your mother.
Maybe it's too late. Maybe I'm the universal fool who discovered the key of life at the cost of being able to live it. Maybe I'm a madman lost in the hope that what I have heard and think I believe about the reasons why I am not there with you and your mother are not true. That all I have fought for, all that I believe in, if not in the name of Love what else is worthy? I would willingly throw myself through annihilation until the end of time to fix all my mistakes. I would rather feel a thousand thousand different types of pain than the one I feel now of sorrow for being away from you and her. Wondering if the things I believe are true only because I fear that they are.
But I'm alone, and this is the only way that I can maybe express myself. And if not now, maybe it will be public record when you're old enough. You are my strength through this pain. I dream and hope that I'll be able to watch you discover the world. Develop your talents and skills. I wish to be the father I never had. I wish I could have also be the husband my father never could be.
I sit here every day and stare at your pictures. I want to be able to recognize you and see how handsome you become. I imagine I can hear you laugh and speak your babble. I want to see the world through your eyes and never miss a moment of your discovery. I miss you so much. At times I feel like I can't breathe. I wish I knew exactly what was going on. It's so confusing. I wish I could fix it.
Were my hopes and dreams born of childish naivety? Yes, I won't deny it. Was I completely unprepared for starting a new life? Absolutely. But I needed it. Otherwise I would died in more ways than physical.
Your mother is really a beautiful woman. I wouldn't have held on so long under her relentless malice if I had not been absolutely devoted to her. If I hadn't felt so comforted by her understanding of the dark side of the psyche, because I was only just discovering it myself. I had believed she would be able to recognize what was happening and took for granted that I might fall well outside of the realms of her knowledge. What does one do with a wounded warrior? I imagined our scenario many different ways but I think my favorite was the idea of how World War II nurses fell in love with wounded soldiers. My new favorite is the Wonder Woman scenario from the new movie. She just so happened to step in to rescue me from the fascists I was running from. And she's exotic. A spellbound witch. And I fucking love it. It frustrates the hell out of me.
Again, I can't help but feel a bit childish in this. I can't help but feel that this contributed to my struggles. And while I do not want you to lose your childhood, I need you to understand how to cherish it and not let it be the devastating weapon of destruction it was to my life. It will be many years before you are even capable of reading let alone understand what I'm saying. I sometimes I wonder if I make any sense at all.
Just know that you are loved and I'll be waiting.
Love,
Dad
13 June 2017
Thought flow and Update
In the evolution of thought and learning from the ghosts of social media past, present, and future, I'm going to present this discourse I've been wrestling with for the past few years. Decade. Past decade.
Right now, I know a lot of people feel like I've pushed them away. I do it on purpose. I need my solitude in order to attempt to see everything from every perspective involved with the current horrific situation that I currently am in. The whole process that I've been going through, transformation, awakening, whatever you want to call it, has been extremely terrifying and testing of what I understand to be my character. Many times the universe has obliterated-in-a-not-a-nice-way my ego and has also taken the pieces and reforged them into something stronger.
I sometimes want to curse the universe for that. I think it was my injury that propelled me forward like I had been shot out of a cannon into space. A freefall from the dimension of religion into the void, where it not only stared back at me it stared through me. And I was void.
In that place I learned to have faith in nothing. I learned to love the empty. I took solace in being meaning among the meaningless. It was there that I had learned to love and love found me.
It's an easy thing to forget, however, when you're in the midst of a battle with emotional parasites. Those people that want to direct and control you for their own benefit. But that's also the only way to fight them. To understand that love comes from within and is given. You have to want, a desire to give love for the sake of giving it. Or as my great grandfather would say, "love without the expectation of its return."
The Eagles (band) say that anger is just love disappointed. I think that is true enough because we wouldn't act out in anger if we didn't believe that something we intrinsically cared about was violated. Without proper understanding of the self, how can we know what we need in order to not have to feel that disappointment? That's the trick, is you have to feel that disappointment in order to understand where you emotional barriers are at. I also want to hazard a guess that anger is mostly used to counter a fearful idea because ferocity protects our soft inner core and fear is the direct opposite of love.
Emotions are powerful. In a society where emotions are forbidden, emotions become magic. Black magic is where those emotions are turned against you as in politics and marketing/advertising. You are told how to think and what you want. Religion then becomes the blackest of magics, almost across the board, because then you're enslaving your entire creative force, your whole emotional aptitude, to an idea outside of yourself.
Because let's face it, no matter what anyone can say about the human experience, we are experiencing the universe from the center of our reality. Life might not be about "us" or what we believe is us, but it is about us experiencing the fullness of who we should be capable of being.
The problem, as I see it, is those in charge need to keep it the way it is because they're afraid of losing their "status." When status isn't about money or things, it's about what you've accomplished for the growth and evolution of our creation. Who cares about why and why care about the who of creation? We are it! How sad is it to have your mark on human progress be the enslavement of your fellow man?
Many people nowadays have started looking to the mystical in the same way they sought the religious. To escape the reality of existence. And many more are looking to science to give them the answers. Dogma has become the creed of humanity.
In my view, science is there to help you figure out the rules, the constants. Science can only guess the future and glimpse our covered past. But you can go outside right now and throw a ball a few thousand times and I bet you'd be able to figure out how to make it do what you want it to.
The mystical should be used to explore those realms outside of our reality, into imagination and whatever could be beyond our understanding. Because while current science would most likely disagree with the idea of defying gravity based on will alone, we can always imagine the possibility.
And so it is the same with love. Science might just say that it is a chemical reaction in the body, a process of attachment and reproduction. While that might be part of it, the void teaches us that it's possible to love without those going on in the psyche. That love is also an act. Willfully done. The mystics would tell you that it is what moves mountains and parts oceans. It is what causes the entire universe to dance with itself. And maybe instead of trying to measure each step we should join in while we can.
***
With that being said, fuck if you even understand my babbling, I want to say that in the past few months I've made quite a few assumptions based on some pretty terrible information and I've been trying to strangle this hurt love I feel. I don't want your sympathy, I want to make this perfectly clear. I am going to do whatever it takes to get my son back and that means putting everything out there. I do this out of love and in seeking understanding.
I understand my mistakes. Very well. I also understand my flaws. I do not understand this situation I'm dealing with where the mother of my child stole him and is doing what only she knows. When I've sought answers to what has been going on I've had accusations thrown back at me, like i was "stalking her" when I asked about why she met up with her ex. She told my mother that he had offered to "take my place as father" to my child. During that same conversation, I told her that the only reason I didn't kill myself back when I tried was because I loved her and my son. Her response was that it would have been better had I died and that she wished that I was dead. She said that in front of her friend, who then defended her when I had done nothing wrong.
After that she called the cops when I tried to see my son and got me beat up by the Norwegian police then thrown in solitary. She told them that I beat and assaulted her, and that I had threatened to kill her, my son, and myself. When all i was doing was crying like a love hurt idiot. When they threw me in the back of the car one of the uniformed officers said there was a woman, a man, and a child inside the apartment. And the police wouldn't even let me hear her statement other than she told them that I had beat her with both of my fists out of anger. Another lie. The only time I'd ever been aggressive towards her is when she attacked me after my suicide attempt on Veteran's Day 2016 and I reacted out of instinct and pushed her into the wall. And I am fully horrified and remorseful of that. It drains the energy from my bones.
I was only able to see my son for a few hours the next time I saw her and she didn't even want to talk about what happened. She threatened to leave if I said anything about it to her. Then she calls me "cold and too sick to ever get better." And her friends and family support this. And my "Friends" let all this shit happen and left me to deal with it alone. And the norwegian government, while I just now found out that they acknowledge that my son is mine, they won't help me because i'm not a norwegian citizen. And the US wont help me because of my "whistleblower" status.
So you can see why I need to try and understand this by isolating myself. And I've posted this with a little bit of thought flow to see where I'm approaching this extremely fucked up situation. And if I have to burn down the entire world to find out what is going on, so be it. There is something seriously wrong with what is happening. And I will find out.
Right now, I know a lot of people feel like I've pushed them away. I do it on purpose. I need my solitude in order to attempt to see everything from every perspective involved with the current horrific situation that I currently am in. The whole process that I've been going through, transformation, awakening, whatever you want to call it, has been extremely terrifying and testing of what I understand to be my character. Many times the universe has obliterated-in-a-not-a-nice-way my ego and has also taken the pieces and reforged them into something stronger.
I sometimes want to curse the universe for that. I think it was my injury that propelled me forward like I had been shot out of a cannon into space. A freefall from the dimension of religion into the void, where it not only stared back at me it stared through me. And I was void.
In that place I learned to have faith in nothing. I learned to love the empty. I took solace in being meaning among the meaningless. It was there that I had learned to love and love found me.
It's an easy thing to forget, however, when you're in the midst of a battle with emotional parasites. Those people that want to direct and control you for their own benefit. But that's also the only way to fight them. To understand that love comes from within and is given. You have to want, a desire to give love for the sake of giving it. Or as my great grandfather would say, "love without the expectation of its return."
The Eagles (band) say that anger is just love disappointed. I think that is true enough because we wouldn't act out in anger if we didn't believe that something we intrinsically cared about was violated. Without proper understanding of the self, how can we know what we need in order to not have to feel that disappointment? That's the trick, is you have to feel that disappointment in order to understand where you emotional barriers are at. I also want to hazard a guess that anger is mostly used to counter a fearful idea because ferocity protects our soft inner core and fear is the direct opposite of love.
Emotions are powerful. In a society where emotions are forbidden, emotions become magic. Black magic is where those emotions are turned against you as in politics and marketing/advertising. You are told how to think and what you want. Religion then becomes the blackest of magics, almost across the board, because then you're enslaving your entire creative force, your whole emotional aptitude, to an idea outside of yourself.
Because let's face it, no matter what anyone can say about the human experience, we are experiencing the universe from the center of our reality. Life might not be about "us" or what we believe is us, but it is about us experiencing the fullness of who we should be capable of being.
The problem, as I see it, is those in charge need to keep it the way it is because they're afraid of losing their "status." When status isn't about money or things, it's about what you've accomplished for the growth and evolution of our creation. Who cares about why and why care about the who of creation? We are it! How sad is it to have your mark on human progress be the enslavement of your fellow man?
Many people nowadays have started looking to the mystical in the same way they sought the religious. To escape the reality of existence. And many more are looking to science to give them the answers. Dogma has become the creed of humanity.
In my view, science is there to help you figure out the rules, the constants. Science can only guess the future and glimpse our covered past. But you can go outside right now and throw a ball a few thousand times and I bet you'd be able to figure out how to make it do what you want it to.
The mystical should be used to explore those realms outside of our reality, into imagination and whatever could be beyond our understanding. Because while current science would most likely disagree with the idea of defying gravity based on will alone, we can always imagine the possibility.
And so it is the same with love. Science might just say that it is a chemical reaction in the body, a process of attachment and reproduction. While that might be part of it, the void teaches us that it's possible to love without those going on in the psyche. That love is also an act. Willfully done. The mystics would tell you that it is what moves mountains and parts oceans. It is what causes the entire universe to dance with itself. And maybe instead of trying to measure each step we should join in while we can.
***
With that being said, fuck if you even understand my babbling, I want to say that in the past few months I've made quite a few assumptions based on some pretty terrible information and I've been trying to strangle this hurt love I feel. I don't want your sympathy, I want to make this perfectly clear. I am going to do whatever it takes to get my son back and that means putting everything out there. I do this out of love and in seeking understanding.
I understand my mistakes. Very well. I also understand my flaws. I do not understand this situation I'm dealing with where the mother of my child stole him and is doing what only she knows. When I've sought answers to what has been going on I've had accusations thrown back at me, like i was "stalking her" when I asked about why she met up with her ex. She told my mother that he had offered to "take my place as father" to my child. During that same conversation, I told her that the only reason I didn't kill myself back when I tried was because I loved her and my son. Her response was that it would have been better had I died and that she wished that I was dead. She said that in front of her friend, who then defended her when I had done nothing wrong.
After that she called the cops when I tried to see my son and got me beat up by the Norwegian police then thrown in solitary. She told them that I beat and assaulted her, and that I had threatened to kill her, my son, and myself. When all i was doing was crying like a love hurt idiot. When they threw me in the back of the car one of the uniformed officers said there was a woman, a man, and a child inside the apartment. And the police wouldn't even let me hear her statement other than she told them that I had beat her with both of my fists out of anger. Another lie. The only time I'd ever been aggressive towards her is when she attacked me after my suicide attempt on Veteran's Day 2016 and I reacted out of instinct and pushed her into the wall. And I am fully horrified and remorseful of that. It drains the energy from my bones.
I was only able to see my son for a few hours the next time I saw her and she didn't even want to talk about what happened. She threatened to leave if I said anything about it to her. Then she calls me "cold and too sick to ever get better." And her friends and family support this. And my "Friends" let all this shit happen and left me to deal with it alone. And the norwegian government, while I just now found out that they acknowledge that my son is mine, they won't help me because i'm not a norwegian citizen. And the US wont help me because of my "whistleblower" status.
So you can see why I need to try and understand this by isolating myself. And I've posted this with a little bit of thought flow to see where I'm approaching this extremely fucked up situation. And if I have to burn down the entire world to find out what is going on, so be it. There is something seriously wrong with what is happening. And I will find out.
11 June 2017
Albedo, Purification of the Soul (part 4)
"Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found."
-Pema Chodron
"But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you lie in wait for yourself in caverns and forests. Lonely one, you are going the way to yourself! And your way goes past yourself and past your seven devils! You will be a heretic to yourself and witch and soothsayer and fool and doubter and unholy one and villain. You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame: how can you become new, if you had not first become ashes?"
-Friedrich Nietzsche
***
When I finally graduated drone school, it was 18 November 2006. I had started mid April 2006, in 3 different classes that ended up having to be split because they were too large. I spent the majority of my time reading the technical manuals, making popcorn, and Navy coffee so strong you could stand a spoon up in it. Because that's the only way some of the officers would drink it. And cleaning. Lots and lots of cleaning. Casual status.
To get by without having to interact with the self-important upper ranks, Haas and I rode the 0200 van up every chance we got and left before noon. It made our lives easier and we were able to fuck around and still get shit done. Most of our peers that were supposed to be on casual status with us showed up at 0800 and left after they showed their faces. One guy didn't show up for over a month, playing World of Warcraft, and no one even questioned it.
In the end, Haas and I were almost as knowledgeable as the instructors lacking only experience. We were excellent and that was a problem.
***
To get back to the core of the story, True Love, or the search for it. Everything else is the background noise. Everything else is poison. But without the poison, nothing dies.
***
While it wasn't until my first day of actual work that the search for the self began, these events play a critical role in breaking apart the foundation of everything that I knew. December 2006 is when my personal life and my professional life crashed together like explosive ridden freight trains.
The summer of 2006 saw the light of my true age when my mother, while visiting with my friends, asked if I was excited to turn 21 in Las Vegas. I deserved group shunning I got after that. Even if I was not the only under age drinker. My lie to the group was enough.
And I was dating somebody new. She walked in on me while I was praying and I mistook it as a sign. We got along, worshiped the same space wizard, told each other our darkest secrets. When I had mentioned my first incident and my virtual ignorance of feminine pleasure, she told me that "men cannot get raped when they have an erection. That means you want it." My desperation to fill that devouring cancer of shame and self doubt led to my moments of debauchery and isolation.
After a month of dating she wanted to get married and jump on the BAH wagon. I said no, she accused me of using her for sex. My reasoning was to follow advice I was given: be with somebody for a year before you decide to get married. You go through all the seasons together.
After that, my male peers started to try and move in on me. Tell her that they could treat her better. She even confessed to me that she had started to hang out with a few of them and started developing mutual feelings with one in particular. I told her it was her decision with what she wanted to do and her decision was to bring the wrath of god down upon my heart and head. After we broke up I was no longer invited to group outings and after December 2006, she lied to our leadership about me "raping her" and when I tried to ask her about it when I started to hear the rumors I was accused of stalking her.
While this was going on I had my first mission and I watched a convoy hit an IED on their way back to home base north of Baghdad. My leadership told me that it happens and shrugged it off. I heard the screams for help over the radio. I saw the aftermath. I watched the desperation of the ground troops to save their friends. While my friends abandoned me.
I dedicated myself to the mission. Desperately seeking purpose in deed. Haas and I got along with the British drone operators better than our peers. The internal political and drama situation was increasingly hostile, good ol'boy's club, that was more reminiscent of junior high school than a professional military outfit. My life was dictated and ruined by the petty will of those who had nothing better to do with their time. Then I killed my first three human beings and I was alone in feeling remorse.
What kind of human beings are we to do this to one another? You don't make very many friends by being the squadron philosopher, less so with the name of religious intent backing your doctrine.
And in order to seek biblical forgiveness I once sought out the woman by inviting myself out to the club with some mutual friends. I had hoped that I could beg, yes I was that crazy, in front of everyone. At the end of the night she gave me the chance to air out my grievances. I had told her that I had once loved her, and asked if that even meant anything. I told her it was unfair of her to treat me like she has been. Her response was simple, "I never loved you. I only used you to get over my ex. You were a rebound."
Two days before that was when I had the incident where I believe we killed a child. My insides were being torn apart by Lucifer, himself, from his prison in the cold heart of Hell.
And that was how the purification process began.
-Pema Chodron
"But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself; you lie in wait for yourself in caverns and forests. Lonely one, you are going the way to yourself! And your way goes past yourself and past your seven devils! You will be a heretic to yourself and witch and soothsayer and fool and doubter and unholy one and villain. You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame: how can you become new, if you had not first become ashes?"
-Friedrich Nietzsche
***
When I finally graduated drone school, it was 18 November 2006. I had started mid April 2006, in 3 different classes that ended up having to be split because they were too large. I spent the majority of my time reading the technical manuals, making popcorn, and Navy coffee so strong you could stand a spoon up in it. Because that's the only way some of the officers would drink it. And cleaning. Lots and lots of cleaning. Casual status.
To get by without having to interact with the self-important upper ranks, Haas and I rode the 0200 van up every chance we got and left before noon. It made our lives easier and we were able to fuck around and still get shit done. Most of our peers that were supposed to be on casual status with us showed up at 0800 and left after they showed their faces. One guy didn't show up for over a month, playing World of Warcraft, and no one even questioned it.
In the end, Haas and I were almost as knowledgeable as the instructors lacking only experience. We were excellent and that was a problem.
***
To get back to the core of the story, True Love, or the search for it. Everything else is the background noise. Everything else is poison. But without the poison, nothing dies.
***
While it wasn't until my first day of actual work that the search for the self began, these events play a critical role in breaking apart the foundation of everything that I knew. December 2006 is when my personal life and my professional life crashed together like explosive ridden freight trains.
The summer of 2006 saw the light of my true age when my mother, while visiting with my friends, asked if I was excited to turn 21 in Las Vegas. I deserved group shunning I got after that. Even if I was not the only under age drinker. My lie to the group was enough.
And I was dating somebody new. She walked in on me while I was praying and I mistook it as a sign. We got along, worshiped the same space wizard, told each other our darkest secrets. When I had mentioned my first incident and my virtual ignorance of feminine pleasure, she told me that "men cannot get raped when they have an erection. That means you want it." My desperation to fill that devouring cancer of shame and self doubt led to my moments of debauchery and isolation.
After a month of dating she wanted to get married and jump on the BAH wagon. I said no, she accused me of using her for sex. My reasoning was to follow advice I was given: be with somebody for a year before you decide to get married. You go through all the seasons together.
After that, my male peers started to try and move in on me. Tell her that they could treat her better. She even confessed to me that she had started to hang out with a few of them and started developing mutual feelings with one in particular. I told her it was her decision with what she wanted to do and her decision was to bring the wrath of god down upon my heart and head. After we broke up I was no longer invited to group outings and after December 2006, she lied to our leadership about me "raping her" and when I tried to ask her about it when I started to hear the rumors I was accused of stalking her.
While this was going on I had my first mission and I watched a convoy hit an IED on their way back to home base north of Baghdad. My leadership told me that it happens and shrugged it off. I heard the screams for help over the radio. I saw the aftermath. I watched the desperation of the ground troops to save their friends. While my friends abandoned me.
I dedicated myself to the mission. Desperately seeking purpose in deed. Haas and I got along with the British drone operators better than our peers. The internal political and drama situation was increasingly hostile, good ol'boy's club, that was more reminiscent of junior high school than a professional military outfit. My life was dictated and ruined by the petty will of those who had nothing better to do with their time. Then I killed my first three human beings and I was alone in feeling remorse.
What kind of human beings are we to do this to one another? You don't make very many friends by being the squadron philosopher, less so with the name of religious intent backing your doctrine.
And in order to seek biblical forgiveness I once sought out the woman by inviting myself out to the club with some mutual friends. I had hoped that I could beg, yes I was that crazy, in front of everyone. At the end of the night she gave me the chance to air out my grievances. I had told her that I had once loved her, and asked if that even meant anything. I told her it was unfair of her to treat me like she has been. Her response was simple, "I never loved you. I only used you to get over my ex. You were a rebound."
Two days before that was when I had the incident where I believe we killed a child. My insides were being torn apart by Lucifer, himself, from his prison in the cold heart of Hell.
“THROUGH me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
To rear me was the task of Power divine,
Supremest Wisdom, and primeval Love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here.”
And that was how the purification process began.
10 June 2017
The Golden Thread's Binding
The destiny of a king
begins when all things are
beyond control
the mind seeks power
in truth
Joy is torn apart
insecurity is key
Five points of the star
harmonic union
overcomes poverty
As dreams shatter
the torch illuminates
Breaker of Cups
poisoner of the soul
purification ends
The Devil retreats
from the torchsoul
a Sun is born
chains released
Life Force restored
A knight's intuition
fearlessness in adventure
the struggle
is the potential
for change
The need for magic
is focused by constraint
hindered by motivation
disorganization
upsets the plan
If wealth enters
value solitude
and productivity
prosperity should not
bring conformity
Earth's Seven Gifts
are given with
perseverance and generosity
exchanging self for
the agreement of Love
The Star hovers over
still waters
rejuvenating creative potential
healing hope
and the unconscious
Restoration of the Ox
strength in contemplation
manifestation of self
lies with our placement
of energy
Gestation of man to god
is lost without
the High Priestess to guide
the seed
of sexuality
The Game of Fate
celebrates the Sun
takes joy in the hidden forces
of success
and luck
The reckless Fool awakens
ends the delays
of being taken advantage of
the slow progress
of impatience
The majestic elk protects
from dissatisfaction
and purifies
the water spilt
from the nine
begins when all things are
beyond control
the mind seeks power
in truth
Joy is torn apart
insecurity is key
Five points of the star
harmonic union
overcomes poverty
As dreams shatter
the torch illuminates
Breaker of Cups
poisoner of the soul
purification ends
The Devil retreats
from the torchsoul
a Sun is born
chains released
Life Force restored
A knight's intuition
fearlessness in adventure
the struggle
is the potential
for change
The need for magic
is focused by constraint
hindered by motivation
disorganization
upsets the plan
If wealth enters
value solitude
and productivity
prosperity should not
bring conformity
Earth's Seven Gifts
are given with
perseverance and generosity
exchanging self for
the agreement of Love
The Star hovers over
still waters
rejuvenating creative potential
healing hope
and the unconscious
Restoration of the Ox
strength in contemplation
manifestation of self
lies with our placement
of energy
Gestation of man to god
is lost without
the High Priestess to guide
the seed
of sexuality
The Game of Fate
celebrates the Sun
takes joy in the hidden forces
of success
and luck
The reckless Fool awakens
ends the delays
of being taken advantage of
the slow progress
of impatience
The majestic elk protects
from dissatisfaction
and purifies
the water spilt
from the nine
09 June 2017
The Eternal Fight
There are times when life just drains from your soul.
Wounds sustained in battle are meant to be harming, crippling, ultimately killing. Every person has their limit no matter how those wounds are obtained.
A master is somebody who can go into battle and sustain no injury but he only gets there on the principle that in his youth he survived what others could not. He moves with perfect grace and flow, no movement is a waste of energy. They have come to understand that the limits of their body can be pushed beyond it's threshold by focus of will alone.
I am not a master. I have not the qualities. Instead I feel like a man who has taken a spear to the gut only to be left dying and bleed out alone. A long and agonizingly painful death. No hope for recovery other than a quick mercy granted by fiercest friends or an honorable enemy.
Instead there is just the hollow emptiness inside that says, "no matter where you have ended up in life... Death has found you."
So you sit, and wait while the scorching sun and the frozen ground crush you between their polarities. The ground drinks up your blood as if it will give it life. The sun rages against your flesh because you will never see another day.
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