2014

I need to be more clear and specific now. I have experienced a series of events in the past months that have changed my life forever, and I have gained a lot of knowledge and as well as lost a lot through mistakes. I'm usually very metaphorical and poetic when I write, but I need to change that. I need to be more clear, and easily understood. Misinterpretations have ruined too much.

I'm ready to begin working on my band. Our name is Distinctive Twilight and I will be performing vocals and guitar. The name is inspired by the phrase "the fate of destruction is also the joy of rebirth." My variation of the Wolfsangel is our logo and it perfectly captures the core of our music. I'm not the first person in art to talk about the unification of the worlds of destruction and creation, nor will my music be limited to that, but the image conjured of a distinctive dusk or dawn is what I hope people will envision when they think of us. Besides, it's about time someone reclaimed that word away from the god-awful teenage vampire series. Some people will be upset by the fact that our logo was used by Nazi Germany - I can't really say anything other than pointing out that the first word in our band is "distinctive" and that the symbol can be traced back to ancient runes far back before Hitler was even born. Regardless, our art and intentions are pure, and I hope our integrity and passion for our work will be recognized.

There isn't a single ounce of musical talent in me, but that's something that I feel will be a representation of commitment and willpower. Words fail to provide justice to certain ideas in my head; I need music as another form of expression and hopefully people will be able to relate to what I/we have to express.

This isn't just about me, even though it's my project. I want people to experience something important when they attend our shows. I want them to make my music a part of them, a form of catharsis or comfort, a lucid dream they can join.

Additionally, I would like to speak about why I planned on joining the military, and why it did not work out. I feel that human survival depends on the competition for resources. Nations fight one another for them, and there are men and women putting their lives at risk so that we can enjoy luxuries that the majority of the population takes for granted. I don't feel comfortable with the knowledge that there are people right now making their hands dirty so that we can keep ours clean. I don't like that only a certain percentage of our nation's population is out doing essential duties to keep our country stable, even if its just economically.

From my experience, the majority of people who join the military are from a bad family or have limited life choices. I'm no exception to that. My father was abusive, my mother was a disgrace, and my sister deserted me. The opportunity to join was stripped from me because I am currently in the middle of an immigration procedure to help my mother return into the country. Despite no longer being in my life, she is still causing damage - but "fraudulent enlistment" is also another factor into why I was afraid of going forward into service, something I will not expand on but those knowledgeable can read between the lines. An investment with no return is not a smart decision.

Despite this, I still trust that I can find true family in the world, and there's been people I've met and had close to me that meant more to me, and me to them, than my own blood. We don't choose into which circumstances we are born into, but it's how we handle the cards that we are dealt that matter. This is why Satanism is such an important influence, and symbol, for what I believe in. Worship yourself, look out for what is in your best interest, cherish your loved ones, and take responsibility for your actions - especially your successes. As well, I love the fact that one's own birthday is the highest holiday.

I am not, and never have been, a follower or disciple of Satanism, it is just a religion that runs parallel to what I believe in, and labeling myself as a Satanist is just a way of describing myself more specifically. The term is commonly referred to so many different practices, but before Anton LaVey started his church in San Francisco, there was no organized group or set of beliefs labeling itself as such. Therefore, I highly encourage people who wish to read an intelligent, knowledgeable, and productive view/interpretation of the subject to read The Satanic Bible or visit www.churchofsatan.com

I will become an official member by the end of this year. Affiliation is purely a personal spiritual matter, not a need to provoke outrage or controversy.

Thank you for reading, and more will be posted shortly.

Eat the World

There is a notebook sitting in the floor of my room scribbled with secret ideas and goals waiting to blossom and be brought to fruition. The difference between you and me is that when I say I'm going to do something, I do it. While you and the charlatans like to dance and sing like monkeys to the beat of your own electronic shits, there's real men paving the path to success and not being content with mere words on paper, the internet, or drunken rhetoric.

In February I made a promise to accomplish a certain goal and I am not ashamed to admit that I did not complete it, and today, yes, I'm here to give an excuse and explanation for why it was not completed. I entered into a relationship which consumed too much of my time and energy, and little time was left for me to do all the necessary tasks in my life. That's why I was not able to complete my physical fitness goals before my 21st birthday.

But I won't settle for empty promises. My life is in perfect arrangement to accomplish the shit I need to do, and those fitness goals WILL be completed. I just needed enough time to sort my paperwork, if you will.

There's other plans written in the notebook other than workout plans, and those too will be announced soon enough to my spectators, and I will, with every ounce of willpower, sweat, and blood in me, get them done. Now that I have the power to arrange my abstract thoughts into coherent concepts, I am ready to get started on making 2012 the most memorable year of my life. This is my recovery and the part in where results begin to churn out.

2012

Next month will be my first anniversary in Portland. This was a place I merely imagined about reaching. I never thought I would actually have the power and circumstance to accomplish the fantasy of escaping California and moving here. At one point I had planned to move to Orlando - but that's a different story ending in even more accumulation of bad karma and debt... But I'm here, happier than I've been in all of my life, though it has not been easy.

The past few months I have been dealing with a lot of difficult issues, all necessary for the next journey in which I'm about to embark on. When you leave people behind, it might seem like you won't need to deal with them any longer, but one thing I have discovered is that like scabies, as soon as you think they are gone, you reap the after effects. Wraith. Bereavement. Confusion. Self-doubt and dire mental anguish.

It was very disheartening to be scapegoated for other people's problems, and worse, fighting off theft attempts of your accomplishments and favorite things in life. Guilt, irrational and unwarranted guilt is a fucking monster in disguise that I have been fending off, but now I've reached the understanding that to fight a disease like this you need to meet it at its core.

I laugh in cruel malevolence in seeing psychic vampires be shocked in my new adult independence, firm stance, and self-preservation. Neither they nor I thought I would have this fierce self-love, but "stand your ground" has undoubtedly been the echo of the beginning of 2012. But this year isn't over yet. Time is something which must be molded into the shape you wish to create, because it is spinning and if you don't place your hands on it, it will transform into something new whether you like it or not. So I'm here, ready to create things in my vision and will.

"I think I'm ready." And I am. Confidence will fill the air like a handsome and beautiful cologne. It's the last day of June so today's post is only natural in being the mark and ending of the first half of this year, and inauguration and rise of the second.

This isn't the part where I grow wings - this is the part in where I fucking fly.

Portland, Oregon

It never gets old.

D(E)AD

Diligence & Nobility

Today I completed a difficult task that took me over six months to accomplish. It was perhaps one of the most difficult challenges I've embarked on so far, but my end result is absolutely worth fighting for. Charlatans used to infuriate me, but now I hold a healthy dose of apathy towards those fucking losers. People will eventually expose them for the frauds that they are, and it is refreshing to recognize that others feel the same way as I do about them.

Diligence and nobility reward the hard worker.

So now it's time for me to work on more items on my 2012 "to-do list." Physical fitness is now my first priority, and let it be known here that before March 25, 2012 I will be able to perform the following: 10 pull-ups, 50 crunches, and ability to run 3 miles under 18 minutes.

Sounds easy? Being the bold and audacious arrogant bastard that I am, all three tasks must be performed under the following conditions:

Pull-ups: "...correct starting position begins when the [participant's] arms are fully extended beneath the bar, feet are free from touching the ground or any bar mounting assist, and the body is motionless.

Legs may be positioned in a straight or bent position, but may not be raised above the waist.

One repetition consists of raising the body with the arms until the chin is above the bar, and then lowering the body until the arms are fully extended; repeat the exercise. At no time during the execution of this event can a [participant] rest his chin on the bar.

The intent is to execute a vertical “dead hang” pull-up. A certain amount of inherent body movement will occur as the pull-up is executed. However, the intent is to avoid a pendulum-like motion that enhances the ability to execute the pull-up. Whipping, kicking, kipping of the body or legs, or any leg movement used to assist in the vertical progression of the pull-up is not authorized."

Crunches: "Time limit is two minutes. In the correct starting position, participants are on their backs with their shoulder blades touching the deck, knees flexed and both feet flat on the deck. 

The arms are folded across and remain against the chest or rib cage with no gap between the forearms and the chest or rib cage when raising the upper body. 

One repetition consists of raising the upper body from the starting position until the elbows or forearms touch the thighs and then returning to the starting position with the shoulder blades touching the deck. No bouncing or arching of the lower back is authorized, and the buttocks will remain in constant contact with the deck throughout the exercise."

Running: Non-stop.

"...and then I told my weakness: fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!"

February of 2011 was the catalyst for one of the worst periods of my life, and I'm going to take advantage of such misfortunate as fuel to remember the scabies and trauma that can occur by not being diligent in the direction of your life, and the destructive and unproductive effects of self-doubt and limitless tolerance towards parasites in your life.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to blast some Rage Against the Machine and get to work.

Marines

In a very unstable period of my life, I felt that joining the Marines was the only option I had for myself to advance and feel accomplished. Other branches of the armed forces did not interest me at all because I wanted to experience the biggest challenge available. To this day I can't help but feel anything other than admiration and respect for anybody who has been able to survive the Crucible and met all standards in Recruit Training Depot at Parris Island or San Diego. It is the ultimate test of will for an American.

Additionally this is a good time to mention that I have been on my own in one way or another since the age of 18. In order to receive federal financial aid within the United States you need to show your parent's tax information except if one of the following applies to you:

• You have a family member or child as a dependent
• You are married
• You are under the age of 24 and both of your parents are deceased
• You were a ward of your state until you were 18 years of age
• You are 24 years of age or older
• You are a member of the United States Armed Forces
• You were a foster child after the age of 13
• You are an emancipated child as determined by a court judge
• You are homeless or at risk of homelessness as determined by the director of a HUD approved homeless shelter, transitional program, or high school liaison.

None of those apply to me and when I was homeless I did not gather any documentation describing my status. So essentially, if I want to go to school before the age of 24 I have to pay for it out of my own pocket.

Joining the Marines was a great option for me because it would consider me a "member of the United States Armed Forces" and it also came with much of my schooling being paid for. My intentions were to join either an intelligence or communications MOS with a development plan to become an Officer. After four years of active service, I planned on coming back and immediately joining the Police Academy to which I would have been well prepared for with plenty of training already accomplished and good solid experience.

I was attending weekly USMC Poole sessions and overall preparing myself to head off  to bootcamp sometime in June or July, until something was brought to my attention that devastated me.

When I saw that haunting paragraph it felt like my world had been destroyed. The despair was so crushing I could not even shed a tear. My life felt like it had no way of getting better and that I would forever be stuck in a static position filled with the stench of broken relationships, unsatisfying work conditions, goals forever postponed and a feeling of entrapment in my own complacent persona. Unmovable. Stuck. Trapped. Static.

The remorseful conversation I had with my Staff Sargent confirmed that eczema is a strong disqualification because it is considered an open wound and causes complications with the small pox vaccine given to every member of the Armed Forces.

With this incredibly rich life option being taken out of my grasp, my mind turned into a defeatist cycle of darkness and despair. I will always remember April 2011 as a dizzy and turbulant circle with California's retarded sunshine heating up my room and my face as I did my routine of biking 10 miles daily to work. But this counterproductive attitude did not last long, and around the time of this blog post entry I started reverting back to my original plan of moving to Portland.

Now I'm living in a state of accomplished desire and I am working simultaneously on getting even more work done. There will always be an unsatisfied yearning to go through bootcamp and receive that highly valuable experience, but there is something an ex-girlfriend once told me that excites me and makes me feel there is still a chance for personal redemption though will:

Jonathan: "I'm impressed by the training soldiers go through, with drill instructors yelling at them all the time and pushing their limits."

R: "Well it's more impressive if those soldiers were able to push their limits without drill instructors. It's more difficult this way too."

And that's my plan.

Upward & Onward

Because other people in the world don't have the same self-awareness to the degree in which I do, I feel responsible to be the best person that I can be in all aspects of my life. The majority of the human herd go about their day blindly, subscribing to whatever their society and immediate social circles (which includes family) asks them to do, whether directly or subliminally. We, "with the eyes to see", even as children, have an extra dash of critical thinking that makes us question things that the masses are too afraid to do so.

The reason why it is so difficult for me to move on from my relationships is not so much out of traces of longing love, but regret in the context of personal development and how I could have went about things differently. A perfectionist, you could say. When I'm with somebody that I love, I'm the best lover, protector, beloved, and supporter that I can be because I chose them and want to give them the affection that they deserve. And as hard as I try, I can't seem to ignore the idiots that roam this planet that treat their significant other with the same amount of care that they would to a dumb drunk broad they met at the pub. I'm no saint, I have done many things in the past that I regret, but it is because of the fact that I contemplate on how I could have went about things differently that I am making some sort of amendment to my mistakes.

It's grotesque how most simply cry to love songs or curse their ex-lover in a phone tantrum without even attempting to see their side of mistakes, or observe the situation from an objective point of view. Pitiful.

My infuriated spite has been a great source of productive energy. It is evident right now - without the Untermenschen dancing around like jackasses, clothed in their parent's money, throwing away their financial aid by smoking pot in front of a donut shop, and crashing their (rather stated, their parent-bought) car every other week, I would have not had the fear of becoming like them, and therefore, will and motivation to accomplish my dream to move to Portland and carve life, instead of letting it carve me.

Under no circumstances am I stating to be elite other than a higher critical thinking ability, but rather that the majority of the world is filled with walking corpses, programmed by religion, government, social conditioning, capitalistic advertisements, society, and they are below, while I, and "those with the eyes to see", rise upward and onward.

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.

FAVENRIS RISING

"Most of us live our whole lives without any real adventure to call our own. Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around. The fate of destruction is also the joy of rebirth."

Waiting for the End

I'm a couple of hours from leaving California. I have lived here my entire life and been out of state very few times. About two years ago I made the decision to move to Portland, but there were too many things holding me back. Work, relationships, family, obligations. It was as if these things were an umbilical cord holding me back from growing into the person I want to be.

And now I've finally managed to work those piles of paper on my desk and get to the place I want. There wasn't a single person helping me along the way. I don't have parents to pay for my college costs, they don't give me a job at their place of employment, they don't pay my rent or buy me a car. Absolutely everything that I have acquired has been through my own hard work, and I remember feeling frustrated and worried that once I received the fruit of my labor, I wouldn't appreciate it. But I do.

7. Acknowledge the power of magic if you have employed it successfully to obtain your desires. If you deny the power of magic after having called upon it with success, you will lose all you have obtained.

What I'm experiencing is a feeling of incineration into some sort of final stage in my life. It's as if I'm inflamed amongst a languid herd, rising upward and onward. Life is a never ending opportunity to make yourself better.

Subjective Blindness

There's a pile of papers on my desk that I need to work on. Every now and then I get distraught and think that I don't have the ability to filter through them, or work through the ones that need attention. But then I remind myself that it isn't because I don't have the ability to do so, but because I simply don't have time for it. Other more important tasks take priority over them.

There is so much that I would like to accomplish, but I'm not in a position in where I can get started. I'm not in a position where I can dust off my shirt and say "alright, let's do this." The frustration won't take over me, though. Each and everyday I'm working on making time for that stack of papers on my desk, and one day they are going to be accomplished.

I'm very easily frustrated with the charlatans of the world, especially when people I love so dearly give them attention out of lust or anger against me. They fail to recognize that they are wearing make-up instead of holding any real authenticity. The pretty cute girl who is crying is always going to receive more attention that the truly hurt girl who is doing her best to smile.

The stupid fucks who think that they are in some sort of abyss most likely only have a single blank page next to their desk, and the worst part of it all, is that their family is filling out the form for them. Yet they complain about having work on their desk and scream and proclaim it to the world, shouting it at every corner that they can.

It makes me sick that there's people like that in the world, who cry wolf. The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that I will receive an endorphin rush when I complete my stack of papers, and that silly idiot in his laziness will receive no emotional accomplishment whatsoever.

Go ahead and let him cry on your shoulder, it makes me easy to filter and discriminate the stupid from the ones who force themselves to see the world objectively instead of succumbing to subjective blindness.

A New Beginning

As I walked out of Borders in downtown Palo Alto, I saw an amazingly beautiful girl smoking a cigarette. I asked for one and told her "Thanks, you're a lifesaver." She smiled and I realized what silly thing I said. But right before I left, I also said "And I mean no disrespect, but you're incredibly beautiful." Her facial reaction was to die for. The intense smile, instant blushing, and overall euphoric expression.

My words can be a complete terror that leave you in tears and catatonic huddle, or I can be the most affectionate person you have ever met. It all depends on how you treat me.

Stay with me on this one, it's still on topic. About a month ago I could barely run 3 miles under 30 minutes. And now I can kill those 3 miles in 20 minutes. It's all about improvement. If I can improve physically, what other areas in my life can I sharpen myself into and perfect?

I've made a list, and there are numerous things I'd like to accomplish before September. They won't be posted here, but believe me, they are paid attention to daily.

I have goals. I've had them for quite some time, and although I've had distractions, both emotionally and financially, they don't fade. And I'm going to accomplish them. Nobody that I grew up with ever believed I would raise myself to the level at which I'm at. And although there may be those pussy boys talking tough and having the family support to go to school full-time or to a nice college/university, they will never understand the advantage they hold.

So this is a new beginning for me. I needed to learn how to chill out, enforce my will, and now it's about organizing my tasks. I've learned what makes me happy, something as minuscule as flirting outside of a bookstore, and what makes me unhappy, the guilt and burden of being in a loveless relationship.

These following months will be my bootcamp, my own intense form of training. And when I step into September it will be in a Portland coffee shop, typing out a new blog post on my computer, and enjoying the sound of gentle delicate rain on the window.

Marines Corps Medical Disqualification

There is a strong chance that I have a medical condition that will disqualify me from joining the Marines Corps. Initially I felt strongly disappointed, and later in the day I experienced some relief.

This was supposed to be the ultimate redemption, a way to clear my head, and able to be comfortable in my own skin. I'm highly elitist, and judge myself and others harshly. Passing the challenge of Marine Corps boot camp would have been my lifelong pride. Taking it a step further, going into active service for four years as I planned, and experiencing war was something else I looked forward to.

Another case of "walking the talk."

And now that I've reviewed the medical conditions throughly I'm thrown back into my life, and I don't know what to do. Should I continue training? Is there a chance that I may not have eczema, but some dry skin condition that doesn't disqualify me?

I'm confused also with how I feel. There's relief in that I won't be in a desert with bullets soaring past me, and that I can continue living in the civilian world, but I have also lost one of the biggest challenges that a human can experience....

Nuclear