#'you want ME to render the fucking moon and bases on it ??? Bitch no' - My PC

[godisasimp]

The way even my PC is against the open world in honkai

[fallandfallandfallapart]

Forget the mass of humanity. Forget the concerns for mankind. Forget the pleas and cries of the international and national…thing…that is called “the people” (I reject the notions that it is alive, as some may say, certain deluded individuals), that everyone everywhere claims to speak on behalf of, for no one gets anywhere without their consent (although the consent is usually superficial; the mutuality is a farce, as you might ascertain from opening a history book, for make no mistake, nothing, and I do mean nothing, is done on behalf of “the people”). Forget the appeals to my biological kinship with my fellow persons. Forget the emotional appeals, for I have no particular goodwill towards the lot of man. There’s nothing for me there, and I doubt there ever will be. There are exceptions, and those who are, I cherish you deeply, and greatly. Let it be known that, by me, you are loved. As for the rest? I can’t say I am compelled to sympathize or want the affections of the majority. For I do not identify with them, and I do not ally myself with their causes, their wants, their needs, their desires, their fears, their worries, and their likes and dislikes. Why should I count myself among willing slaves, who so gladly serve selfish masters? Seems like a terrible idea to me.

This is what I want.

I want unbridled, unrestricted freedom. And I shall decide what that means, for me. Where those limits lie, if I acknowledge any. What I fight for, and what I fight against. I only stop where I may decide to stop, and I shall go only where I wish to. I will use whatever spirits, geists, that I find pleasing to me, if I shall utilize any at my disposal. And I shall determine, for myself, what form it takes (and the material means used to establish it), what it happens to manifest as, for the world is a canvas, the pages for a novel, and my life shall be poetry, it shall be art. The pools of inspiration it draws from. The various sources of inspiration I look to, as I realize my will, in its fullest potential, for that is all any of us can do, and that is all we may be said to have the “right” to do. If it is not the same tomorrow, as it is today, or yesterday, then be not surprised, for stagnancy and consistency are old and for old men, while youth and renewal and contradiction, that is the way of things, the true way of things. With whoever I want, those fellow vagabonds, if I can somehow manage to seek them out, if their vision, whilst not the same physically, is similar in spirit, and I repeat, with whoever I want, I shall associate with. If anyone shall decide to join me, so be it. If they refuse to, or even oppose, then I cannot blame or stop them, though I shall try to make it happen nonetheless. They can come and go as they please. Do as thou wilt, my friends. Do as thou wilt.

It shall be in a most beautiful, natural setting. Overgrown grass and healthy flowers instead of filthy sidewalks and streets. Tall, muscular, vibrant, imposing trees in place of concrete squares and drab, wooden structures. Soil for my bed. Lakes and ponds as my bathtubs. The breeze as my air conditioning. Wild fauna living their lives to the fullest, rather than drab, human clones, pompously strutting about. The sun and the moon taking the place of putrid streetlamps and streetlights. Money and moneyed interests will be gone, evaporated like mildew in the morning sun. No more will the economy be a deciding factor in anything. It’ll back-to-the-land. However, the land, and its inhabitants, shall not be dominated. Harmony shall be achieved, where everything has its place. Nature is not our bitch. We are Nature’s bitch. We’d do well to remember that eternal fact.

This is not for anyone’s sake, outside of those whom I am emotionally attached to, and appreciative of, and love dearly. That is the answer to those critics who may be suggesting I am trying to be some sort of savior, some sort of messiah, striving for a kind of “greater good”, where all is restricted out of necessity. This should shut the conservative cowards and idiotic reactionaries up. Might I suggest you go back to the office and the church, and keep your noses out of what you couldn’t possibly understand. And if they cry the leftist-sounding cries of “egoism” and “selfishness”, then I shall throw their hypocrisy back in their faces, eviscerating their weak, pitiful arguments. I am what they practice, without all of the empty justifications they use to synthesize their contradictions, rendering them schizo . Nor shall I deny that I balk at tradition, for their “traditions” are false, and not perennial in the slightest, not worthy of the allegedly “primordial” importance they give to them. To put tradition, real tradition, and the ways of the Cross, Crescent Moon, or Star of David in the same sentence…would be the most absurd of errors. They are flimsy, just like their followers. Born of an age and period most foul, most absurd, and most deadly. And if economic concerns are raised towards me even once, I shall the nearest bank to the ground. Fuck your dismal science. I wipe my ass with your dollar bills. I might set your house on fire next.

Speaking of the left, they will no doubt decry me as some kind of decrepit miscreant. Unconcerned with the working class (I do not deny this, for to have something in common with someone based on our similar wages, is as hollow as having something in common with someone based on race, or gender, or geographical location), who are stuck in a slumber, lulled to sleep day in and day out, no sign of awakening in them to be found, and who reject whatever does not fit their mold, for they are ignorant and just as bourgeois as the bourgeois themselves, having adopted their standards. Yes, the rampant oppression and enslavement is disconcerting and hard to watch, but when they let it happen to them, and make no attempt, none at all, to alleviate themselves of it, can you really feel so sorry for them? They’d rather wallow in their sorry state, in their victim status, than assert their will, take that power, and light everything on fire, like they should. To answer the inevitable question, no, I shall not sit around idly, waiting for a revolt to magically happen, and then strive for my liberation then. It’ll never come, and if it does, as history has shown, it will not come via your side. They wouldn’t risk being ostracized and becoming an outcast for the mere sake of principles, in the meantime. Their liberty, whenever that comes, is not my liberty. As I’m sure they’ll also find out, I do not wish to make work more enjoyable or bearable, either. Those are two concepts that cannot be reconciled. I do not want to have a stake in the factory I work in. I want the factory razed to the ground. Forget about equality, too, while you’re at it, dear reds. I will gladly resist any attempts to level, to make me one with the herd. It won’t happen. I’d sooner fight you the way commie scum are supposed to be fought (I’d gladly make Joseph McCarthy look like a goddamn socialist, if need be), than let you pull a fast one on me.

Some may deem me a madman. But this is a mad world we live in. Everything is topsy-turvy. A crooked, messy hodgepodge we live in. All that we want to save or resurrect is dead and gone. We’re living in the shadow of a dead god, and the new ones give us nothing at all but misery and strife. Therefore, why not embrace the chaos and madness? After all, chaos is the natural state of life. Life is not orderly and pretty. If it is, it is not in any way the human mind would be able to grasp it. It is gruesome, violent, and uncertain, yet this is also what makes it beautiful, joyous, and exciting.

I want that thrill to come back, why the powers that be want to choke the life out of life itself, until everything is as drab and dull as everything else.

I’d go as far as to say that I, and others like myself, are the only “sane” ones left (forget sanity, however, for it was invented to keep the nonconformist from being a threat to the easily frightened mob, by quietly tucking them away in a dark corner), and everyone else is crazy.

[ab-cogitation]

I almost wanted to complain about how cold it is this morning, But I don’t have a reason to, because truthfully, I’m happy to be back home in Detroit.

Being here means to embrace all the Seasons and their temperament.

Sometimes the Sun shines and sometimes the Sun need a break, desiring hugs from Clouds. The Sun letting it’s many emotions eject as rain, lightning, snow or to simply seek refuge in the Cloud’s shadow.

See even the Sun knows when to be humble; to stand down, take a step back and be behind the scenes. Likely recharging, resurging then emerging from the night to lead the Moon back to her sanctury. Because the Sun knows that when it’s own inner glow is too bright, it too is blinded. Caught up in the lime lights and lemon drops that it rejects the idea of even lowering itself for recollections which indebted it’s riches. Riches being the fruit of it’s Spirit, its Light, it’s loathing and longing to be recognized beyond warming sensations.

Like how it kisses our skin, draws up sweat and get us in heat to BBQ, bike, bathing suits and seeing the details of one’s frame. A lust we often have no shame in sharing. It’s obvious with how we are staring. Hormones flaring. Emotions blaring like sirens. The kind of vibration that draws courage into hiding and on lookers to confiding with a God they often forget besides Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The inadvertently abuse emitted by the Sun is endless.

Which is why it often hide in Clouds us human call emotions.

Coming back home to Detroit has been just that; A Cloud of emotions. There’s a light in me that has been wired into us all, but quite frequently forgotten victories make us uncloth from our armor. Thus becoming susceptible to being sieged by every vice there is.

I learned this hard truth every time I handed out my still tattered Heart. Instead of bandaids and gauze pads with dressing, I opted to hold my Heart together using left over ribbon from holidays and coating it with Modge Podge and glitter.

I gift wrapped my shit, and stood back in the corner awaiting the receiver to be slapped with the element of surprise.

They thought I was perfect, because I’m pretty. Better yet they assumed that the tenderness in my words meant I would be hesitant to aim where it hurts— Accountability. Moreso towards myself, because people really believed the inner Peace I speak so freely of came without consequence. People really thought that I don’t go through things or make mistakes. Yes I’m prone to a fuck up or 10, but I view this shit as lessons given I choose to be a student.

Like….

Returning home to Detroit from Phoenix with the same amount of money I left with ($150) humbled the fuck out of me, but engulfed me to shame more than any feeling. I were under the impression that I were supposed to return with a lot more money and mantras they recited the spiritual journey I embarked on in the West Coast.

I were supposed to come back feeling like that bitch, but being broke to the point all of my mom friends had to join their coins together to get my ass back to Detroit. Which I’m grateful for that. Totally grateful. Super appreciative and thankful that they came through for me minutely, because I were days away from being put out of my apartment.

Why?

Love.

I thought I found Love in a man who was deep in a union with his childhood issues, manic anger and addiction to cigarettes and meth..

Yes… Meth.

But I tried to Love him anyway. I tried to support him anyway. I tried to make sure every morning was greeting with hot breakfast and sucking his dick on the whim so he’d never feel inclined to ask.

I tried to treat that nigga like a King. A God maybe. I saw beyond his conflicting ass flaws and sought a treaty with his Potential. I tried to nurse his symptoms from withdrawal by diving deep into studying herbs and tantric touches.

I tried to support his moves, no matter how mediocre, by investing in his aesthetics and trying to connect the many dots he failed to revisit.

I tried to Love this man. Be the mother he wished he had. Be the Lover he claimed never existed and be the light, the Sun to conquer his darkness.

I tried so damn hard to be what this man needed that the absence of reciprocity made me bitter. Damn near resentful, not vengeful, but definitely irrational from still keeping him around until he decided to leave cuz the well ran dry; both my pussy and pockets.

How about my sense of self worth?

I let the Sun in Phoenix illuminate a light in me to the degree I were blinded by my own insecurities.

How did I end up so desperate? Breaking my contract with Celibacy? I mean.. Ya girl was 1 year and 4 months in without dick. I were craving a booty rub, but what I wanted was Love. I wantrd to be celebrated and honored in the same fashion as our ancestors honored the Sun and now rever the Son of God named Jesus.

I felt saving this man would equal out our yolks as he unknowingly saved me from being lost in my own darkness. He saved me from loneliness just by being there. His company and conversation alone was enough until that shit became arguments, and drove me away from being at my own apartment— my name on the lease; my money paying the bills; my money putting in groceries; yet he somehow would get an attitude when I returned home too soon to MY place… A place that never felt like my own until he left.

That’s when the weight loss journey took place.

After walking my son to school in the morning, I would walk around the neighborhood with my headphones on. Taking in the scenic sunrise, the mountains and the buzz from busy commuters.

Hike, Hike, Hike

Hiking up North Mountain

Strolling around the water Basin on 10th St

I learned of parks and cool ass places in my neighborhood I didn’t know existed. I started testing out my photography skills. I tried my hand as running around the water basin and sitting on bare land with insects under trees.

I began to adopt the diet of the hummingbirds around me; seeds, nectar from flowers, berries and water.

I observed all the plants, trees and flowers around me. Absorbing their divine nature to get an organic understanding of how I want to be; rooted, budding and blossoming, letting the beauty of my essence be conceived.

Unsure of what this plant is, but it smells good as gawk!

More importantly, I cultivated a relationship with the Sun whom really shed light on who I AM.

Sunrise in North Phoenix

Taking the information downloaded home to create vision boards, a plant based diet and staying in the Rhythm with God through dance, yoga and prayer.

My vision board and cluster of craft supplies that I still regret leaving behind.

Introspection, solidarity and manifesting some shit.

It was through these regimens, practices and form of worship that enabled me to cope with being alone. I had to deal with heartbreak and anger. I had to master the emotions of grief and guilt. I had to really take the time to learn and LOVE ME.

Who I AM…

Phoenix was chosen as a healing space given that it was revealed in my name interpretation rendered by BlaqFire Nation. In my birth name, Ashley, rising from the ashes like the Phoenix is said to be apart of my story in this lifetime. Given that prior to my decision to flee Detroit I endured the death of my mother, were exposed on social media for something personal, and learning that I’ve been my baby daddy’s side bitch all these years, I were in a dire need to escape. And since I were too chicken to commit suicide after contemplating the shit over and over, relocating suited best.

And I dipped out Detroit with $150 and my son who was 4 years old at the time on a mentally excruciating three days on the Greyhound.

The rest is the journey of The Alchemist, which is also the title of a book recommended by a great friend of mine.

It was a parable that spoke to me, because much like the character, Santiago, I too were on a quest to find my treasure and love. I also communicated with the wind, the rain, the Clouds, and the Sun, which all led me to speaking with God.

That is when I learned that the treasure I dreamed of could only be discovered at home, in Detroit…

And I have located that treasure.

It was ME all along. It was ME that I found.

So while I don’t possess the material monetary shit that society says define who my status, I own something greater, more profound and infinite—It is the realization that I can only save myself. It’s a knowing that regardless of who or what I encounter, I only have control over me and that is more than manageable.

So while I wanted to complain about the cold weather, grey skies and the Sun playing hide n seek with a nigga after being spoiled in a city where the Sun shines boastfully 300 days a year, the coldest it get is 40 degrees at night during winter month (yes literally a month of cold), and no snow? I ALMOST wanted to regret returning.

You see what comparison does right? It generates a divide in the spectrum, thus taking away the Light that all is worthy of experiencing. Shit even the darkness want to be enveloped in the Sun’s grace.

The Sun… I’m so grateful for it’s solar power. It’s a star that’s assisted with my personal evolution. It’s been the formula to my countless issues. Being in the Sun, feeling the Sun; gazing at the Sun; it’s been my saving grace. Interesting how the simple things, most of which is taken for granted, become the epitome of our healing. Much gratitude to the TRUE SUN of GOD.

Had I not left Detroit, who knows where I’d be mentally…

Can’t ponder on the hypotheticals tho as they’ll strip away where I AM NOW.

Speaking of now… I went from 190 lbs to a solid one fiddy.

I had a great solo Hot Girl Summer. Bike riding, river running and being grounded by Mother Earth to be refined in feminine energy.

The journey continues….

#ABCogitation

Heartbreak and the Sun Saved Me: A Narrative on why I Returned to Detroit I almost wanted to complain about how cold it is this morning,But I don't have a reason to, because truthfully, I'm happy to be back home in Detroit.