Mind Nomad Writing

I am a mind nomad, wandering within the landscape of my creation.

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  • OBEY. NON-EXISTENCE.

    each one enters as a leech, a parasitic passenger clinging desperately to a host. 

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend.

    these are the demands which are quickly pacified by that numbing flood. an intake of perfectly organized chemicals, triggering a calming tide. this is how we have come to endure. this archaic ritual of survival.

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend. 

    tradition and our forerunners have silently handed down these time-tested strategies. and praise be to the almighty genetic carousel. we may be perpetuating the cancer but look at what a beautiful variety we have engineered! the work of our hands and experience on display for all to see; like the bright flashing neon bulbs of the red light district, we’ve crafted the perfect allure to charm and entice the sojourner, to draw in the lost and disillusioned. all we look for is safety and permanency. it’s a half-dazed, bloodshot, cocaine race for any semblance of harbor. with hive minds and empty cavernous hearts we continue on our way.

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend. 

    in desolate and sterile factories we have taken matters into our own hands. fabricate pleasure, fabricate connection, fabricate progress, but at the very least fabricate control and fabricate predictability.

    every step will be measured and every word will be scripted. follow the parameters and read from the teleprompter. this barren and level landscape was designed by our stoic reply to every emotion. we have guaranteed sure-footing and safe travels within these walls.

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend.

    in crowded, plague-filled slums we release the burden of responsibility. pursue freedom, pursue the fleeting fix, pursue individual glory, pursue open-ended transactions but at the very least pursue release and pursue escape.

    the urgency eats at our insides and creates unending motion. we move for the sake of proving we are alive, all the while crashing violently together in moments of exuberant passion and seething hate. sparks fly, fires rage, our city burns, and we preserve the frenetic pace, we preserve our sleepless pursuit of the next answer, desperate for the rush to finally outrun our tolerance.

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend.

    always speaking and never communicating. always hearing and never listening. always seeing and never observing. always feeling and never perceiving. always thinking and never analyzing. this is our inheritance. this is our legacy. this is our future and our end.

    give. 

    nourish. 

    supply. 

    attend. 

           cease to exist.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • OBEY. KINGDOM.

    from this precipice we can behold our glorious and ever-expanding caliphate. the masterpiece made possible by our undying convictions that have led us to this preordained synchronicity. we braved the chaos and sacrificed the prime of our youth for this predestined existence. with the explosive and unrelenting violence of our shared struggle in the background, we look ahead to our manifest conformity. now in the silence, bought by bloodshed, we can hear the soft, steady, hum of our collective electromagnetic heartbeat. the dull and blunt tools once employed to create compliance have been replaced by subtle and innocuous art forms. like a thin analgesic scalpel, thought patterns and brainwaves are “gently” shifted. we have concocted a serum of reality in which we incubate each and every member of this body. from birth to splendid afterlife, this chemical environment is our safe harbor; it is our golgatha and bethlehem. awake and perceive the salvation within our kingdom.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • OBEY. EXTINCTION.

    ever shifting and re-aligning; a stable instability. this is the landscape where we fix our anchors, clinging desperately trying to hold on as the axis tilts and spins in a myriad of unforeseen, unpredictable directions. we dig our feet into soil with hopes we will miraculously take root, grow, and thrive under a shower of toxic fallout. today the sun is blotted out, choked, and thwarted by the glory of our endless and eternal haze. tomorrow we fabricate a warm, glowing, metallic sphere to suspend above our heads and we chart our path to the promised land. minds and passions programmed through patterns repeating and then being violently ripped apart and laid bare. flags are flown perpetually at half-mast; a constant reminder of the fragility of each inhale and the inevitability of the long and enduring exhale. we discovered the epicenter from where this outbreak grew. we allied with our assassin and made ritualistic sacrifices to the cavernous deity. with our pious ignorance on display for all to see we heralded the rise of our new empire. a phantom kingdom that fades in and out of view like a fragile mirage that is torched and melts under the weight of the blazing desert inferno. we pledge our lives to the halcyon days of our youth and forge ahead vowing to fulfill the dreams of our ancestors, all while we rapidly burn the filament of our manufactured celestial being.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • OBEY. THE UNCANNY VALLEY.

    it’s been said that reality is the hardest thing to define. constantly changing and shifting shapes with the fleeting motivation. a trickster creating a thousand new worlds. if chased long enough truth will deliver the fatal bite to its hunter. 

    we all need something to see by. 

    it may glimmer like an incandescent bulb but the light it produces is only artificial. 

    we all need something to live by. 

    it may breathe like a man but the air he breathes is stale, he is copied, a clone, a representation. 

    we all need something to swear by. 

    it may sound like an eloquent ebb and flow but the flood that rushes out from behind these walls will bury cities under a serene, blue canopy of flowing currents. 

    a shore without a sea is a wasteland and a sea without a shore is a tragedy. i remember when i put all my hope in finding a complete resolution to this anatomy. in every corner of this skeleton i have instead discovered unmentionable regret. the gap is widening and aimless purpose becomes sole direction. skin does little to conceal the cracks. with such a complete collection of cognitive capabilities all we could come up with are coffins full of prehistoric concepts. if there is beauty in attrition we may not have been so naive after all.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • OBEY. DECAY.

    i can still remember the look in your eyes the day i buried you. a sort of disappointment crept out from behind the wall of tears but there was no surprise. i didn’t think i would have it in me to go through with it but the truth is i didn’t feel a thing as i covered up the last remaining hole between you and my world. at first, filled with paranoia, i checked over my shoulder each and every moment to ensure that no one would notice you lying there. slowly, over time, i realized that nobody would ever find you and i even forgot the exact spot i had picked out for you myself. i can still remember the day i chose to end the rest of yours. burning hot with rage, your conviction became too much for me to bear. unfulfilled potential created mountains of expectation in my mind. shame curled up next to me and i haven’t stopped loving her ever since. i can still remember scrubbing the dirt from beneath my nails. i dug until my hands became raw from the sharp edges of the course gravel. blood ran down my arms and tears ran down my face but you weren’t there to tell me everything would be fine. or were you? i can still remember how we used to walk hand in hand. i can still remember clinging to every single word that fell from your beautiful lips, though few they may have been they sustained the life in these now brittle bones. i can still remember the desperation i felt when we were apart, a love both frantic and uninhibited. and then gradually, your voice became muffled and unrecognizable, a noise accompanied by static and scorn. but memory is a funny thing. i can remember every little detail but your last words to me. i can’t even remember the last thing you ever uttered and the worst part is i know that it was the truth i need to see me out of this storm i am dwelling in. i’m up to my neck in my own deceit and the irony is the only one who can save me now is buried under miles of forgotten terrain. is it too late? can you still breathe under all those heavy stones of unbelief? can you even move under the weight of the constricting cords of indifference? or are your lungs full of the corrosive dirt of lust? i will dig until my fingers are cut to bone. but will that be enough? am i too late? i just need to hear your voice again before i am welcomed into my watery sepulcher. the deluge has begun, am i out of time?

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • i am. the uncanny valley.

    The eerie feeling that comes up when encountering something that is, almost, but not quite human-like. The unsettling sense of unease when encountering an entity that closely resembles a human but is not quite an exact replica. A near-human likeness to trigger an abrupt emotional shift into horror and revulsion. Bringing forward the appropriate set of human emotional reactivity when the subtleties of form and feature are seen, revealed as artificial – an imperfect mirage. Known my many names but never known in essence. The thing you can never quite put your finger on, that word that escapes your memory. Beldam, shape shifter, vampire, lycanthrope, wizard, changling, encatado, chupacabra. I know it as self. And just like the various monickers, I am known for what I am not. Binding, constraining, escaping, evading. Is this punishment? Is there any meaning to be made? Maybe I was sent to punish, sent to confuse.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • i am. non-existence.

    an empty and weary frame wandering with an unsteady and uneven gait. open sockets typically occupied by eyes are filled instead with makeshift optical vestiges comprised of glass shards and twisted metal. auditory processing managed through slits between half broken and charred branches. the hollow chest cavity reveals a tangled snarl of wire and twine spiraling in and around each limb-like structure. the mess emanates from the center and sends splintered arms reaching and wrapping around every appendage, paradoxically strangling while simultaneously offering pulsating currents of momentary spark, fleeting life. strands so frayed, wrought, and thin that any obtuse interaction could threaten the end. movement is achieved throughout enormous expenditures of flame and fuel, leading to incremental progress toward a bottomless precipice. this goal is stored somewhere between shattered and intoxicating delusions. repeated forceful iterations of aggression have assisted in the ethos being locked into position, rattling incessantly in its dome; driving perpetually toward the manifest destiny. the dually reinforcing visions of purpose and non-existence mark the trail ahead and sustain the monotony. failed attempt at meaning. failed attempt at semblance of life.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • i am. kingdom.

    soaked and submerged in a scripted and carefully sculpted version of existence. this is the template received and adopted; integrated into awareness beyond discernment. fully blended and morally embraced, the pre-eminent purpose drives all future motion. a mind, body, and all breath entirely sacrificed on the alter of this mandate. each and every day a new opportunity to violently render my thoughts, my passions, my future completely and unequivocally subject to this all-consuming vision upheld by the view from the plateau that overlooks the cacophony that directs our daily motion. misguided and listless wandering is the hallmark of what we have been taught to latch onto and eradicate once and for all. but whose version of truth are we to stomach? and whose version of improvement are we to commit our allegiance to? when i awake and i can perceive that i, myself, am the almighty leech, the parasite seeking a host to drain and replace, from this altitude i can survey the widespread destruction that resulted from my scrupulous discipleship. i, not “they,” am irredeemable.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • i am. hoax.

    it is within the context of this tribe that meaning is weaved and co-constructed. within this community connections are forged and trust becomes the foundation for a path that leads ever onward. with sights set on progress, industry, and bliss we embark on this joint venture of promise. what becomes of these iridescent dreams when you learn that these paths wind and twist aimlessly astray? what becomes of these bonds when you learn they wind back to a glimmering apparition? what was once an intricate network of methodically strung points of purpose, i have caused to unravel. millions of delicate threads that were once thoughtfully and carefully placed have now created a tangled circuit of static feedback. what was once a land filled with the prospects of hope and potential has revealed itself to be nothing more than a mirage set amidst scorched and eroding earth. when your eyes adjust to the blinding beams of light you will notice the thick, streaming flow of blood seeping from your temple; the place where i carved into your mind with the blunt edge of my words. in your final, flickering moments your memory will work to frantically pull together the fragmented and dispersed images to bring some kind of empty resolution to this nightmare. and as you take your last breath, your lungs collapse, your pulse goes flat, and your eyes turn dark as your realize the deceit of this endeavor all began with me.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.

  • i am. extinction.

    a spark. a glimmer. a flash. a trail of smoke. i exist. i exist in legacy. i exist in legend. i exist in heritage. i exist in passion. i exist in flesh and i exist in bone. i exist in breath and i exist in blood. i exist in thought. i exist in impulse. i exist in deed and i exist in desire. i exist in aspiration and i exist in lineage. lineage is frail. aspiration is an apparition. desire is extinguishable. deed is impermanent. impulse is finite. thought is relative. blood is quickly and predictably drawn. bone is prone to decay. flesh is bound to rot. passion is fleeting and often misplaced. heritage is tied to a culturally imposed purpose. legend is only told by those in power. legacy is only a fabricated source of false comfort. i am not a spark. i am not a glimmer. i am not a flash. i am not a trail of smoke. i do not exist.

    #i am. Confront. OBEY. embRACE.