this early morning

the moon is still out, hidden by clouds but still genuinely felt. Dashed by dreamscapes to awake to an un-abided energy calling out in constant revelry: the rain has come to clear the airs! every single tone has something to add to this joyous cheer. sketching the face of my beloved in dreams, learning a new shape and shade of nature reaching out beyond boundaries set by those unknowing. A certain calm falls over this being, this body sculpted for this skewed inner being, so curiously enamoured by the silence only the Earth can speak, which isn't 'silent' at all but rather a deep humming speech. Forever Endowed with Now. with a 'peacetime resistance' comes a new breath to what I only thought I knew, this comfort from another's eyes, opened or closed, beaming from a passed shadow, a place where we all felt alone at one juncture or another. though this chaotic haywire keeps sharing new colours with me, how can I possibly find perception stilled by mere ideas or notions, regardless of where they may be coming from or on what frequency I'm traveling. finding new poetry in the winds played again and again, there's no structure to this flowing vibration we call existence, only that which transforms to the wills we exude. imaginations explode with the fresh smell of african coffee brewing, what isn't from a foreign land these days? One must (and this is the ONLY way possible) orchestrate such morning glories. We must conduct our lives only as such, with brightness. With Love.

nau

there shall never be an 'again'. phosphorescent life climbs from the dingiest shadow imagined, only to blossom in to complete light. basking and reviving the once lamed sensation of living, away from the material gain of levels only attempted to reach. There never was a before or an after, we only recycle what's chosen to be remembered in an unconscious fit of masochism. Forever Now is all we've ever had, the only song that came to mind on windy days, the starlit day-break that shoved suicide to another date. We've lit our lives on fire before, even for an instant un-recalled, disintegrating that looming horror of action's weight, for to create a dream is far more trying than chasing them. be still. listen. manifest from the heart with acceptance and love. what could ever possibly be distracted when so intrinsically attentive? Whole-heartedly admitting to the day's circumstantial elaboration as we embrace time and space. another one on the rocks for the rocky terrain yet to be tried, nothing comes easy: to appreciate simply being in simplicity. please.

it took traveling to an island many times...

until we found one another...



Erin:

When her face speaks the sadness of yesterday,
I wilt a bit more,
than my own face allows the reflection to reveal.
Only if she'd let me hold her
for a little while,
I'd do my best to absorb the
blackhole vibes that sometimes
consume her eyes.
Then she's not alone.

a week ago, this came...

while on the rooftop, star gazing with her:

If I accidentally veer from your
eyes,
please know my gaze is only trying to
capture the moon
for you.
Or a cluster of stars with
5 galaxies
devoid
of blackhole thoughts.
Chasing shooting stars for us
to survive on.
I'll hunt the night
perpetual
for the hope that
we'll never fade
into daylight,
or deviate
from one another's
hearts.

REAL ART!!!

ok, fuck my art...fuck your art...fuck their art...

THIS IS ART!!!

my dear brother, confidant, and tatooist Gary Gagliano...

if you don't know,

KNOW!

Gary Gagliano Hubert Gallery NY

another gallery

enjoy the love!

peter pan is a 60+ year old senior citizen in Japan...

What majestic pageantry this place can surprise you with...after a rather disconnected exhibition at "21-21" design studio in Roppongi's mid town, Kosuke, Erin and I went to wander about in Roppongi Hills...after finding a bench to sit on directly in front of the bathroom on the fourth floor, a magickal being made his way out of the loo. His gaze focused, a glint in his eye spoke of never-neverland and he approached us speaking some suave engrish. "where are you from?" he asked, casting a silent spell for a brief moment, "I'm from California," I answered. "O! I lived in Berkley, where are you from in California," he inquired with a rather youthful smile. After some exchange of english he revealed, "I'm Peter!" He asked if we'd like to join him and his girlfriend, "she's 60..." for a drink of shochu (soju) with them. Peter Pan apparently enjoys his drank. He led us to an establishment entirely fashioned of wood, polished and lively, he ordered us some magnificent drinks and scrimps. Peter Pan's girlfriend was a kind and honest older woman, she enjoys practicing her english which wasn't half bad...but my mind kept wondering, how did Peter Pan become a Japanese man with a PHD from Harvard in IT technologies...? Never-Neverland must have been eternities ago but his youthful demeanor still danced, taunting our shadows to come out and play. What marvelous imbibing potions he ordered, it was like drinking the night sky in a clear twilight. The moon began to sway the tides of time, now I know why he brought us to his tree house, to help us understand this presence of time, to learn to capture it with our entire might and make the most of it. "My professor at Berkley use to ask me, 'what have you done in a week? nothing???'...he was beeelly strict! but I learned..." Apparently it's never too late to become what we truly want and know in our depths we can be. Thank you Peter Pan and Kathy (his gf) for the wondrous time away from time! What's coming can only be up to us, to follow the beckoning of wonder or to deny kindly the opportunities we're faced with constantly. Let's all follow those magnetic energies which strike curiosity is such a naked way that we too are stripped clean of identity and can then share in random beauty!

∞∆¬øπ∑

∆¬øπ∑∫√...alonely

WOWWWWWWWWWWWWW @_@

to all my loved DJ friends...

well just enjoy this...



THANKS LEGS for sharing this with yiu

Tokyo morning poem...

Collaborating a unique frequency together,
why resist this?
Where are you rushing us to?
Oblique commemoration of the past
set to a new understanding,
following the contours
of the sunsets,
full moon light baths
showered by the tree's shade,
only to remind us that there's only
today.
So let's go sing in the rain
before we dry up
and crumble
beneath tomorrow and yesterday.

MUSICS!!!

the other morning I had a little online jam session with my brother Mr. O'Hagan.

despite the delays between digital signals and internet things, I can say it went interestingly well.

The Cosmic Boys & the Dreamers are in full effect!!!


jamzzzz!


I also decided to compile, arrange and cut out songs from my creations this year and made my first solo ALBUM!!!

light! ライト！[dreems]

go download it here!

light! ライト！[dreems] - Inbetween Between(2010)

enjoy!!!

oh yeah...and everyone...

LET'S HIT THE BEACH!!!

mourning News...

Went for a walk, care of the good man Lonnie Liston Smith, such an amazing musician and orchestrator!

This is for fellow Lonnie Liston Smith fans!

and you'd never guess!!!

caught the sandman out in the broad day light! the savage!
lurking for leftover dreams as the sun rises...the heathen!

but it's all beautiful when you have amazing music to fill your ears.

Thank you Charles (Mono/Poly)!!!

everyone, please check out his album!!!

MONO/POLY(facecrook)

sacrifice...

what does it mean? ego-less, naked, unabashed. heartful. from the chest.

let's all learn to forgive and truly accept...

a poem written with the sunrise on this passed Sunday morning after a wild night at the art compound..Saturday nights will be the death of me...and rebirths on Sunday mornings...all so fitting...

this is to all those who have sacrificed their lives so we, and especially "I", could learn such integral lessons about life, living and loving...thank you all dearly! from the chest:

Hello beautiful,
such obstructive elegance,
distracting me with her swagger
of a dance.

It's nearly sunrise
yet the moon refuses to subside.
where can we go together
and share ourselves? collaborate in
beautiful disgust only to rearrange
fleeting wealth.

Who will forgive you in my
absence?
Let's never seek the transforming
precipice,
only growing with distance.
Undelivered semblance, don't blame
the public dis-service of imbalance.

I'm here, indifferent to the
question of when, or how,
why wonder in distrust
about love when there has
only ever been right NOW!?

thanks for the youtube to this song Grace!!! (グレース)

passed...now...

what a doozeydayzy...

discovered some of the smallest flowers ever seen by these eyes

and right after twilight shifted to night, the moon turned red!

haha also discovered this - from the mountains last summer in Kobe! bahahaa!

cosmic boys and the dreamers - mr. O'Hagan and Yardbury

http://citywestjam.com/mt.jam2009/artist/cosmicboys.html

makin a return this year too! haha comin equipt though with the mpc!

skedoooo~!

おはよございます！

indeed it is



enjoy!

my new home

so I found a place close enough to the chasms and abysses of the ocean floors for me to reside in:

this is supposedly a reality.

undersea adventure

the owl hoots a welcome to the morning sun, a dove on the steps, a whole hearted smile from the chest...

Placed against the wall of depth, of what dimension, I'll know not yet, not ever. Forever in wonder. Fanciful etude of summer springs forth, quite near to the ears. Direct pathways illuminated, the body won't be here forever, enjoy it in all the marvelously skewed ways! Seeking out a different source-compound to supersede all other, obliterating the very holds of spatial friction allowances. Bursting beyond the very invisibility of definitions, between the light & the heart lies perhaps the greatest distance in need of care, attention, allowance. Listen in close and you'll be sure to hear, don't doubt the rhythmic speech in foreign frequencies. It's always been here, all ways, coming around once again. greetings.

vanishing...

no longer do i feel...no longer do i wish to...no longer do i wish...

simply:

yearning...

I confiscate and confess that the ego too is simply a notion, invisible, non-existent until we sprinkle it with life, with our essence, most often unconsciously and unknowingly. Like Pinocchio, we're still exploring, learning, gathering and harnessing the very life we're so convinced of living. How many of you make love to time? to space? to neither and both simultaneously, fluctuating, flashing with the rhythmic pulse of distant torsion ripples touching entirety. The sage of space hovers about in his obliterated head, reaching the threshold of capacity, there is only a natural and significant orchestration that must occur before one can even begin to break down and disintegrate all the Earth-culture's toxicity we're subjected to. Polluted at every step, knowing it, seeing it's ferociously hideous misshapen silhouette, emitting a dispersal of transformed energy. All light gathers space, embracing the truth of what it absorbs as it perpetually travels, never stopping, never slowing, never knowing what immobility even implies. Let us all eat, drink and be with light, with love, with true acceptance which brings the beginnings of forgiveness...learning to forgive through acceptance. For don't we all yearn to be accepted for who and what we seem to be through our motions and words and gestures? Shattering the circles, the zero which only implies infinite potential, come walk with me in directions never experienced rather than dig deeper with years of cyclic speeds.

forgetting to remember:remembering to forget

This unsanitary and momentary constellation does not seem quite fit, nor unfit, for the gaze to relay much more than what's to be remembered and forgotten again. How lovely the skies twist in somber tones adrift. I enjoy watching the suns set, again and again, the moons find ways onto my notebook sometimes. oh gentle brushing gust of wind, playing with the phenomena of photosynthesized life, come dance along the rhythmic thumping of the Earth's heartbeat, an electro magnetic ripple touching us all whether we know this or not. Unabashed, delicate. Honest. On the distance of illusion remains another world, another word, another kiss. Let's all share our memories, and our forgotten realities. Our imaginations are synonymous.

Holey dawknesses!

So i said this the other day on zee facecrook:
"kinda wanna throw myself off some deep, dark edge, and into a chasm where I can soar to the floor...anyone wanna join?"

my dear brother and wonder-friend Ken Yamaguchi sent me lots of wonderful and gargantuan holes to leap into! The one in Guatemala City that just came about was first -

then he sent me THIS wondrous mysterious dot on the Earth ocean's floor...I want to just float down to the bottom!!!



Is there something fatally sadistic about wanting to float, so slowly and so deeply into an embracing darkness, that wonder can no longer exist beside you, or in a distance, but rather becomes you...and you it? Do we indeed run to the vastness when it's offered? Do we breathe in the toxic fumes of the ether and drift off to wonder? Let the salts melt on our tongues and liquids turn to catalysts and glimmers of starlit love, infinite!

have a cup of water and remember!

enjoy!

go get LOST!

please!

live in love!

BELIEVE!

let's all believe and do this...and MORE!



enjoy!

Truly Touching Words...

Shared with me by my dear friend and loved brother Justin Davis...
a dear friend of Dennis Hoppers...

here's a copy of a polaroid that Dennis just sent Justin before his passing...

Rest In POWER!

enjoy!

Shoppinghour!

So I wrote a contribution, an article that spun out of some twisted place one early morning after mutating all night, the mind spent and hardly twitching...something slithered its way out and spun a web of an article. Please read not only my contribution but the entire issue, the theme is Secular Religion. This is the best issue in term of simple aesthetics and striking beauty, yet!

here's the link:

Shoppinghour.net

it's also on the right on my cosmic friends links list!

also a peep, a sliver of a fraction of what i've been up to, caved up painting lately

enjoy!


always a new day, perpetually new adventures await!

なう！

Another sunrise, the sky is absolutely a wondrous blue...clear...endless.
Thanks to all my loved ones who wished me a happy birthday and who could be there in many ways, some in other ways, otherworldly ways. So many coincidences and magicks found.

thanks y'all! we all in this together, let's expand, believe, remember..and shine that smile, from the heart!

: Light : : :Love :

LIS-TENNNN!!!

put some headphones on...do yourself that favor at least...please

bee-boop-deep-doop

the air of the future seems to be thick with all sorts of 'waves' traveling and undulating at all sorts of different hertz. gigahertz, frequencies and channels and who knows what else!?!?! well we've all seen or heard of these, but its high time we start testing such simple and cheap gadgets. While my friend's pussy is all over me (his cat) there is a new connection between us...well it seems so. I've been wearing this Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanie all day long under my hat and it's honestly had this warm sensation in and around my brain and mind since setting this shiny peter pan cap on my skull. As someone curious about all things in this life, I'm always one to say, "why the fuck not?" and try pretty much anything that isn't going to instantly kill me...or very soon after induce such distance to 'being'. So I'll see what it's like to wear a Deflector Beanie for a day or two and see if anything interesting happens. All things, everything changes the way we perceive things, perhaps not entirely noticeable, but everything is slightly skewed by everything else, all these lights bouncing and playing in a perpetual symphony, this is our 'reality'.

Either way...go build yourselves an Aluminum Foil Deflector Beanie and see what happens for yourself!...and be CERTAIN to pay attention to step/picture 7...it's a MUST!

http://zapatopi.net/afdb/build.html

Enjoy your travels!

cosmic funky love vibrations...mirror images with light we all are...indeed!

If you don't know my man Dam Funk...do, please.



love...funk styles

honest-tune-gosh

been listening to this song pretty much ALL DAY!
with the light again. delirium is wondrous. the shadows glaring in such specific ways, saying hello to the sun and wind without a murmur...



enjoy

as always!

light and love to all

The inspiration of freedom through explorative madness

This man is a true mystic, innovator, explorer, inexhaustible curiosity and wonder (wander as well), and, to me, a true master of the English Language (manipulator and mindfucker) through the precise manipulation of both spoken and written words. Thelema was his passion...no, beyond that, his life.

Please check out a book of his if you feel so intrigued as to who/what-beast has influenced so much (creativity, philosophy [the disintegration of it, to dissipate confinement], and mostly how to loose the facade of self and belief) of my life and being.

In light.

a greeting: "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law"
a reply: "Love is the law. Love under will."

Thelema...do some research if you feel so inclined

With the light, a loved one, and nature...inspired

Amazing video of an amazing artist



enjoy

texture like sun

warmth spreading, embraced by the twinkling glimmers of creativity. Cloud shaped skies reach out and the numbness hums a melody in serene tones, a soft opera with the voices of the wind. With each beat of the heart emits a divine allusion towards the coming shape of change, transformations aligning with space/time moon cycles. Lunar lights glisten, raining down with gravity's aide to enshroud the silhouette of the higher self magnetism in stardust.
where is it that all these borders came from? sprung up, this invisibility, like the confinement of incarceration, both physical and mental, forcing the boxes, the limited reach of context and the vernacular we're able to explore: infinite potential wrangled, caged and stolen of all conscious freedom. This underlying poison, the leech of life-energy, vampiric, oh how they make us believe in what's a mere fraction of actuality! The hope. The availability in creative originality. Unlocked potential forced to believe that 'a key' is the way to be free yet not realizing the impact of the implication that a key is even needed, by proxy, already imprisoned unknowingly.
Imbibed in the blood flow, the directions and vectors, trajectories in all directions, meeting, leaving, simultaneously. Conscious of each other, quantumly entangled, a form of universal connectivity, sharing being. This is all so simple to see, the calm flow, the desire to live on, it's all happening, constantly, within each of us. Relativity in clarity, face forward naked flash of an irresistible honesty.
Let's all share this.
Let's all hope for this.
Let's all become this.
for we already are,
just in wait to accept it
all.

Potions and Tats

here's some recent photographs captured while journeying...psychedeRic!



and the finished tattoo. Sak Yant style

obsession: sincerity

I don't have much to offer as a citizen...
or as a person in this modern race,
aside from honesty and humanity.
connecting hearts and minds alike.
If this is all I have to offer,
would you still
care
to know?

slumbers

How long have I been asleep? Un-everything and seeping in corners so abundant that one can't find a difficult way out of it all, like breathing, coming natural and passing with the ease of swaying motions. Confined only by the willingness to abruptly shake and rattle the silly shapes we draw of our lives, hindered by the words we watch ourselves speak. Piano sonatas play with the rain. A gaze to change the essence of a day. Where was it all mistaken for just another sequence of nows and entwined with the consistency of expectations? Heaving each hope to stay alive, encapsulated in a couch hidden by the drawn shades, festering thought provokes a fractal array, we stay away. Demagnetized by some static disruption, the desire to be plucked from time seems to be a conscious set: intention-thought-motion -- in no specific order, rather simultaneous in structure. Spanning out beyond the latent measurements of time, which causes irregularities in the constant presence of 'being' (thought, creativity, expansion, retraction), the essence of interacting with the self which is only seemingly, reaching a point of escape velocity. Snapped-rubberband-pop-action-energetic emission, to become the commissary to provoke those still sleeping, wake up! The alarms have been snoozed perpetually, phone-ringers silenced and gagged by all means, this forced silence, this space between breaths, this space...causing a tumultuous wake in sentimentality, in honesty, breaking the very means by which we communicate before words, together, silently. In dreams the distance is but a notion, loose and malleable, but the structure we unconsciously agree on while waking can only be trifle philosophy, a void of formulated consistency shouldering its own weight. The paradox can stretch on and we can also continue to slumber, waiting, getting over things, settle into changes...but it still remains a constant, this shifting, this becoming. Blind irregularities embrace and gather to loose form and become a flow, a wave function of organic matter. Fluctuating awake, smiling.

eye on

Wandering in a frustrated compound fraction of a consciousness, deliberately distanced from sensing what feelings may be, what could be. Possibilities become the tormentor, potential energy withers and becomes nothing more than wonder, the stillness of a gargantuan imprint making the most silent murmur the ears have ever heard. Distance, unreachable and mistaken for what's honest, and nothing can awaken this endless dream. Harmonious horrors and the scattered remnants of what once could have been cut away at my feet, leaving the scars and pain of each day, here, unable to move, directionless blunder. Caressing the notions of disappearing so no one can wonder, to become the lost memory which eats away at time's essence, a consequence which only behaves as the answer to a forgotten question. Cast beyond the island of exile, a hindrance bellows in masked names, it's all so foreign and grows to be more so with each morning wake. Shivering amidst the very fire to be lit but all the matches have found their way through the cracked pavement leading to joy, and so aimlessly I ponder what trash bin to make my home. They know not the true insanity that carries this mind along the wafts and breezes of the insatiable collision of a life alone, an eternity drenched in the colorless stagger I mistakenly call my existence. Pardon the handicapped inability. Forgive the scantily diminishing center of what was supposed to be my heart. Ignore the static, confused thoughts I assumed were my own. Translated to music, we always hope alone. For that's what we are: misguided translations of a frightened child's hope for life to be better.

Herro Inspiration Surge

A rather odd flight east, before I could drift into the space I prefer on plane rides - passin out and waking up at my destination, a man on his way back to his seat collapses right beside my aisle seat and has a slight seizure. A doctor/passenger helped him, turns out he has an internal defibrillator, diabetes, obesity and I'm sure an array of other health problems along with forgetting to take his medication...and we wonder why the world looks down on Americans. Creating an odd energy, sleep wasn't peaceful by any means. I woke up about an hour out of NY with the most nauseous feeling which lasted most of the few first hours. Then the snow came bringing unique flakes of inspiration which gathered to embrace me in and lull the recent lack of said inspiration and joy to an unconscious death.

Having loved friends is precious. Peep my abode for the next few weeks

what y'all know about Bast?

or the homie Gary?

and this is what the morning brought

utter beauty pillowed around me. Blessed. Lucky. Graciously smiled upon. Choose any other synonyms and they could only begin to skim how wondrous it is to be.

light to each of you!

A taste of a favorite of mine

This song is one of my three favorite tracks by Aphex Twin. Not only is the song mind blowing but Chris Cunningham's direction is genius in this one, as usual for them both. Check them both out if you've never heard of them.

Here's the video for windowlicker



enjoy!

now boarding confusion

Distinctly distanced in disagreement, day after pills keep me in congruent agreement that shadow-cast sunlights are but a demeanor towards the crucial crux that balances our honesty towards the heartless, puss-filled fragrance of life's susceptible circumstance. Dismissed phone rings, banished to the bellows of an incandescent light's shout, a massacre in the streets below beckon shipwrecked curiosity and inhale the defunct notions of a past which are all that go down easily. SIGN UP NOW! MAKE MONEY! PARTY TONIGHT!: all the bells and whistles that find no wind to help life along. The ashen buildup falls, a calcification of dreams hardens and there are no TV infomercial answers.

A coward brought his broken system in a dilapidated box, water worn and aged with stains, it all seemed to be coming apart. The seamless dire straights followed, the pre-school glued memories of discolored cohesion, scraping at the falling pieces loosely connect the same cyclic speech of a vernacular worn away and frayed at every edge imagined. Peg-legged marathon hobbles forward, blind captives caught in a maze drawn in the fashion of failed ventures venting the very depths of a congested hope. Sickened by the very nature that speaks in bright tones, drunk with daylight, no place left to rest the battered elements of creativity. Punch-in to clock out all the irrelevant whispers wandering the confined buzz of a drug ridden demise. This relic could mislead the focal points erased by the cloudless sky. Wilting amongst the weather-beaten reflection.

Heroic inflection, notorious rejections, harmonic commotion, words defunct behind the shades of nod-off eyelids. Expressions of leisurely confusion rings specks of shunned galaxies hidden within heartfelt sentiments. Twirling, leaving behind the modus operandi to befriend a fading wind behind the enclosed state of the payphone booth awaiting demolition. The crumbling brink. The fading state of instinct. Vanishing amongst the queue forever building only to revise the ways of delusion.

endless twilight, perpetual night

Contorted by the assort which catches the forlorn sight, sparkling and glistening before it all vanishes eventually. Abort! Abort! A,B,or,T? Quietly sneaking behind the skin which knows it's own story, scribed by an illiterate bafoon wailing on his basoon to harmonzie the unknown scraps so many of us try to make sense of. Locked in the distance, sleepless and hindered by a self molded circumstance so concrete in its repetitive passivity. Flailing in the slight gusts sent by friend's breaths from across the oceans and on the other end of the continent, a requiem for the past. Layering guilt as if it were sustenance. Simply still. As idle as those who forgot. Filling my innards with the scarce soliloquy of a rush towards the unknown, but does one mirror not show the very blemishes of our insides each and every time? Wilting wonder. Wander the shaded pathway and embrace the pile asunder you've become. To witness the whisper which dissipates the flakes of misshapen being, to bend till you're heart tells you enough is but a speck amongst the fractal horizon. Pushing. Destroying. Absent to all that reaches beyond what most consider 'sense' until infinity is entirely accepted as a trinket in our napsack of life. Bewildered in silence. I don't blink until my eyes tear and my innards find a way out.

Digital Death

Perhaps the most annoying and oddest aspect of facecrook is the counterfeit immortality it unwillingly and unknowingly gives you. I've lost quite a few VERY close friends in 2009 and as much as I love visiting them in a quantum and spiritual way, I certainly don't need to be reminded of their absence in this dimensional path nearly everyday. There's that tiny and absurd box that reminds you of all the friends that you haven't contacted lately via facecrook, and of course, why would anyone really bother writing on a passed friend's facecrook page? Honestly, the intention is there and that's what really counts, but must one do it in such a public way? Or is facecrook becoming the first and preferred way for humans to contact one another more and more? Usually such a notion would find it's written form in a notebook of mine but I believe it's quite fitting to publish this online since it deals directly with this new 'online consciousness' and binary life we all seem to be willingly (and scarily enough, more frequently) participating in and for some, consumed by.

Yes I find it annoying that a computing system made up of 1s and 0s is unabashed to force you to remember not only the fact that your dearly loved friend is no longer physically present, but it reminds me of death. Though to me, death is simply a notion, the loss of a physical state has nothing to do with the epicenter of being but it certainly does relate to our physical state of experiencing being. I might also mention that I sometimes visit the edge of that chasm and peer down into the endlessness and wonder what's so enticing and mysterious about physical death and it's relationship with being. The moment we start living, we start dying, it's an unavoidable proxy of existing in this realm, but does the opposite hold true? The moment we start dying, do we start living? The simple shift in perspective shines an entirely new myriad of light across the entire notion of being, in life or in death.

So back to the whole 'digital living' thing. No algorithms of an individual's entirety is recorded in these databases online, no essence of who we are even properly translates over the computer screen (though I do admit we can share parts of ourselves with more people now, which is interesting in itself), so why the obsession with socializing online? Can one 'die online'? Is it possible to remove every speck of myself from the finite capacity of these digitized minds? Set off an EMP (Electro Magnetic Pulse) shock wave and theoretically yes. For the naturalists, the Sun's electro-magnetism, even an immense solar flare, could shut down all electronic devices on this planet, so yes, it's possible. But is it possible to wipe away the memory of a loved one from one's consciousness? No. Not even if we tried the rest of our lives.

The point of all this? I hope all of us learn to start embracing each of our connections with people in a real way (sometimes due to physical distance, online is the only way to contact some loved ones) rather than simply gain presence through a digitized illusion of being, living. If any of us need reminders of our friend's that have passed on, especially by a computer, then perhaps we are digitized already ourselves. We're all already alive and don't need to be constantly reminded of death, the absence of loved friends, or that fact that facecrook is a digital vortex trying to intentionally and specifically gather information on lives (likes, dislikes, patterns, desires, etc) that was entirely foreign to the computing world just 10 years ago for who knows what means. I live on not only for myself but for the loved ones who gave their lives to help fill the lives of the ones they loved, so I live on to also fill the lives of those I love. And I love you all.

Although this is a digitized message, the intent comes from the heart. Quantumly entangled, all of us, I hope the true message is received.

this song has also been on repeat: