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Day 2

Something passed through me last night. Of What? I’m not sure. Whether it was of the light or dark kind, I couldn’t tell you. But somehow, I feel a bit lighter afterwards. Omar showed me through those caves and said that dark spirits were known to pass through them and pray on weakened spirits.

I cried yesterday but it felt like I was vomiting.

There is so indescribably beautiful about this place, something strange yet familiar. It’s innocence burns a hole through my corrupted, ugly heart. It stings but I surrender because I believe subtle truths can be revealed in the pain. 

Day 3

I dreamed last night about the ocean. But it wasn’t a good dream. My dad’s cargo shorts washed up on the shore of that lake. It felt real.

I walked through town today. Just a sad, pale clown scouring the streets for some kind of warmth. Maybe just a smile or a nod would suffice. 

The clouds envelop the hillside houses — the precipice of a storm. I try to remind myself who I am through the haziness. The looming dread of their judgment. Them vs. me. Sideways glances, children’s laughter in the distance. Am I the joke? Maybe it’s easier to be a ghost or a cyborg, but then I might as well be dead.

Omar’s ex-wife Laura read my cards yesterday. She said… “her mind wanders to the moon but when she’s pulled back to earth it’s with a divided presence, half here & half there

I can’t help but think, where is there and how do I pull myself back to here.

Day 4

Laura asked me what love meant to me.

“Well, love and sympathy”, I said, rather mechanically. “Looking into someone’s eyes and feeling safe.”

Then she asked me if I love myself.

“Of course.” I said defiantly. 

“Do you look in the mirror and feel safe?”

Well, shit.

Day 5

I feel so peaceful but disconnected too. How do I find myself in these situations?

The inner dialogue is constant, maybe today it will subside a bit and I can be present for once. I’m starting to go a little off the rails but somehow I feel stronger than yesterday. Realizing that this depressing reality I’ve created is only a microcosm, a delusion of every single thing that exists around me. Every single exertion of energy existing in this room, the so-called “constants” that just exist as background noise to us, what if we could change our relationship to those things? You know, the details, the fine print, the patterns in the dirt that I might have just stepped I didn’t look close enough.

Like Laura said, she exists between the moon and the earth, half here half there….

What if I was able to take in everything, all the time, all at once? Is that what schizophrenia is? Am I going crazy?

Manic poem:

It’s transactional by nature, this life

I’m tired, I’m in a strange land

I’m bored to death…

My back is curled, my eyes are low

My head is here

But my heart is there.

Where?

I’m not so sure

They just come 

And they take a little part of me every time

With their lies 

And their tales and their dogma and their stale opinions

And I can tell at this point

They’re even boing themselves

And when it’s my turn to speak 

After all the aching pain

And this insatiable thirst

To be seen and held

My words escape me

I’m paralyzed 

Cowered like a little stray mut in the corner of the room.

Naked, wide-eyed, 

Trembling in fear…

They use me

And their lame ideals…

I’m weak and I’m bored

Just an ear to their woes

A wordless wanderer


A vacuous hole

Sometimes I forget who I am

All the worlds that I’ve gone to


The pain, the uncertainty

I flirted with the other side, with death.

It’s possible to outgrow those

The people who don’t see you

At least for the time being

If they do not serve you

You can build walls too

If you have to.

In hopes that one day

This loving energy that you are pouring into yourself

Can be channeled back into the world

Because that hatred

Those violent fantasies they sold you

Are really just a cry for help

Day 5

I want to get started on this goddamn mural but I’ve been in a weed coma for like 5 days. Things are finally starting to slow down a bit. You know that phenomena when you go to a new country, let’s say China. You’ve just arrived and everyone’s faces kind of look the same. It’s not you’re poor, confused, weakened ego’s fault. You’re like a fish out of water, in a manic frenzy trying to ground yourself in this strange land and it’s just easier that way. If in your periphery, everyone’s faces kind of just morph into one “NPC”, non-player-character, ambiguous face.

Am I a Nazi

NPC face

And then, 3 days in, just as you’re starting to question yourself… like magic… everyone faces become highly distinct again. You are capable of seeing beyond the superficial jargon and actually see these people, who might as well be from another planet. A planet with a lot less evil and a lot more heart. In that moment you realize that you are not so different after all. That the simple nature of this distant existence that scared you at first actually somehow makes sense now.

Day 6

I’m so uncertain of myself and it’s affecting my confidence, but more sadly than anything my art. I second guess myself and declare defeat before I’ve even tried something. It’s a result of fear and low self-esteem. When Omar said to make the tree’s diameter smaller, I swear, I almost lost it. I had to take some time for myself and just kicked a stone down a dirt road for like 30 minutes. I just want it to be perfect and it stops me from even trying. Ugh. I feel so frustrated, and my ego is bruised.

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