Burials Pt. I (Introduction)

It was in the dark, and I was breathing into the mirror. My reflection began to blur, almost morph, and I knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but regardless, the image scared me. I knew I was turning older, wiser, and into something, someone, else. There’s many benefits that come with age, but unfortunately it is also one step closer to death. I finished my meditation and walked out the door.

There was an urge for me to walk, so I entered into the cold night and the song “A Deep Slow Panic” sent shivers down my spine. The new album by AFI named “Burials” was just recently released and my synchronicity with the theme and content manner was shocking. I needed to go to the Lovecraft bar for some reason. It was like an instinct.

There was something within me that was almost being led by the sky above. The melodies were like liquid electricity, and I had an urge to scream, cut, shout, or fuck. Letting go of counterproductive pride, I texted Alexis back and we spoke for a while. Our conversation shall remain private, but it was highly cathartic. I passed by a freemason building and felt an eery feeling, almost as if the grand architect himself was trying to send me a sign. I brushed the feeling away as a delusion, but then again, to any psychiatrist, spirituality is a delusion.

After I crossed the Hawthorne bridge, I looked up at the large and orange moon and wondered what existed beyond our sensory systems. It’s impossible to know, and there’s many groups of humans that have organized ideas and concepts, but then again, with such method of thinking, the possibilities of what this is all about are endless. Prayer or worship doesn’t accomplish anything, it is merely fierce will. If that’s not a higher power, I don’t know what the fuck is.

I started a conversation with a homeless man at a gas station on route. He was wearing a shirt or pants supporting the Navy and said that it was done out of respect for someone in his family. When I asked how he supported himself, he told me that he goes to a local church and assists in exchange for food. There was shame in me for tolerating “holier than thou” douchebags in my life who exhibit hypocritical behavior that makes them feel superior to this individual, yet cling to their good-guy badge. He wasn’t any part of my responsibility, but I surprised him with a few dollars anyway before stepping away.

Inside the bar I struck an enlightening conversation with the bartender. The room was illuminated by gorgeous and haunting blue and green lights, and there weren’t many people there yet. Fog filled the room lightly, and I could still feel the lifeforce from the night prior. We spoke about Dr. LaVey and I explained to her the concept of a total environment, which is an artificial environment designed to enrapture an individual’s imagination towards a particular concept, whether it be a real or imaginary location, a time period, or a situation. The Lovecraft bar was a portal into another world, you could literally smell it in the air. I have had many good experiences here.

And the best one walked through the door.

As I finished my drink, I looked at the girl next to me and she was talking to the bartender, explaining how this was her first time here, and how much she admired it already. A deep slow panic struck me, and before she had the opportunity to pay for her beverage, I put it on my tab.

And that is how I was introduced to V.

Power to Communicate

Afterlife

"...I just want to thank everybody for being so patient, and bearing with me over these last couple of years, while I figure this shit out."

"After death", "Hereafter", "Next world", the "Other side."

I woke up at noon in the middle of a warm Californian January with intense dread. A relationship gone sour, a job that didn't meet my own standards, I could not attend college, did not have the opportunity to achieve any of my life goals, and I was stuck in California, a place that was no longer a sweet home but a sticky and warm climate of mediocrity and smugness. Despair was the sickening static state of mind that would color itself into my life; I did not think that things could get better.

There wasn't a jolt of excitement or inspiration for me to fuel on, just carcinogic umbilical cords that slowly were killing me and would not let me go. There were all these promises, an upcoming job promotion, a scheduled move to Florida with my then girlfriend, possible financial aid for school, a better social life, but in the end it all turned out to be shit and it's my fault for not trusting my instincts.

None of those plans would make me happy, but because I am my own worst enemy, I felt like that is all I deserved. I forced myself into thinking that the plan of working two jobs and few classes at a local community college was "good luck", that I would receive a higher job promotion because of my skills and knowledge, but instead proved to be a valuable resource for my employers in the static position I was in, forced myself to be with somebody I wasn't happy with because I didn't think I deserved any better, and that California was a land to which I should give allegiance to, despite the fact that it is an overpriced wasteland of delusions of grandeur with a debt that is fatter than its infestation of fake trees, supermarkets, highways, and flip flops.

And of course, I couldn't afford a car so in California that means you don't have much of a social life.

Some people are weak enough to live life passively and allow it to move them wherever the wind blows, but "those with the eyes to see" utilize willpower to carve life into the shape they want. I just needed time to "do my paperwork" if you will. I spent a few more minutes in my bed that morning and made a step-by-step list of things I needed to do in order to get to the place I wanted to be. As my mentor Boyd Rice once said, accomplishing things in life is simple, it's a matter of getting from point A to point B, but most people in the world are too stupid to take the first step.

Viciously in the coming months I attacked all the obstacles in my way. I left my manipulative girlfriend, planned a transfer into a new company with work better related to my future career, looked into better housing with the city I wanted to move into, and planned out a health and fitness plan to improve my overall quality of life. I split my feelings of obligation that I had for my friends in California and decided that the only person I should be entitled to protect is myself, others are grown people and need to make their own accomplishments/mistakes.

As with most things I get a late start on, I end up accomplishing them faster than I thought I would. Am I happy? Hell yes, happier than I have ever been in my entire life. In days in where "of late, it's harder just to go outside" I now cheerfully walk the streets of Northwest Portland and breathe in the refreshing oxygen from the abundant trees, rub my cheek against the colorful flowers reflecting the Summer sun, and flirt with the gorgeous antique homes and buildings.

So as I take a sip of this delicious latte, in my head I make a toast to all those stuck in dark places and wish them hope. Despair is a suffocating smoke that clouds up all thinking, but fight for that fucking little small dash of light in the distance. You may end up reaching it faster than you'd think.

Life, it does get better.

Vices

I have two vices in this world:

alcohol & women.

And I don't break 'em for no one.

Evil Seducer

At the party she crept up close to me in the couch. I didn't stand a chance, this gorgeous thing was just brilliant. Cute, adorable, yet still sexy. She called me an "evil seducer" and I said I can't be held responsible for the things that come out of my hellmouth. Her hand resting on my thigh we started talking and one thing led to another and there we were, tasting the taste of her lips, the scent of her neck, the softness of her hands...

Drunk I fell victim to her feminine charms and her cheek against mine brought me higher than any drug that night. Apparently she did as well, biting her lip at every word of Spanish I whispered lovingly into her ear. I told her that I didn't want to fuck her, I wanted to see her, alone, tomorrow, and be able to get to know her better outside of the environment of a hotel party.

So, to the judgmental jury that so passionately loves to smash my spirit down with inevitable guilt & low self-confidence, explain how I am the evil seducer when all I've done today is check my phone, hoping to see the warm and inviting message "1 Missed Call from Deanne."