Astrology Charleston, West Virginia Writings Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Gray Clouds, Brown Boxes & Tubes

An excerpt from my journal.

I haven’t felt capable of writing in here for a while because all these heavy things have been hanging over my head. Literally. Gray clouds & brown boxes. Bars & tubes stuck into my skull, driving me insane.

I assume the gray clouds are depressive thoughts of which I’m not consciously aware. The boxes probably contain psychic junk I have been suppressing. The metal bars extend to various people & represent the pressure I feel to please them. The hollow tubes contain thoughts & perspectives pumped directly into my head.

At least I think this is the case. I haven’t taken the time to carefully dig into these things because there is just too much heavy stuff there & it feels unbearably tedious to sift through it all.

So it has been sitting there, having a slightly discouraging effect upon me, making me doubt the value of anything I could express and also the value of those I would be expressing to.

It hasn’t been the best time ever when it comes to relationships.

For starters James has been going through the darkest period a man lives through in a 264 period (Pluto on moon) also known as the Wife Beating transit. And I’ve been stuck in a house with him night & day.

Secondly, the political situation- shutdowns etc- has me on edge. I feel nervous that you are expected to accept the government’s increasing control without question. I can’t bring myself to wear a mask- because I believe something sketchy is underway- and this makes me seem like an asshole to others. And people already think I am an asshole for supporting Trump which bums me out as well.

But the fact is basic freedoms- such as free speech & the ability to live life on my own terms- are very important to me. I don’t want to live in North Korea. And this makes me a nazi klansman in the eyes of most people I know, making me feel even more isolated.

And on a personal level these past months have released a series of events which made me realize most people I believed to be friends were actually enemies from the beginning. All this has me doubting how many good people actually exist in the world. Is everyone your enemy once you get to know them? Or am I just doing something majorly wrong?

Regardless though, I know I must push through these gray clouds & attempt to express myself, if only to provide balls for my enemies’ cannons.

Because I do believe in life. I know there is a higher purpose and our actions matter. We have to place our faith in doing the right thing, letting the chips fall where they may when it comes to peoples’ reactions.

And I also believe in people because they are made in Life’s image. Still this faith is a muscle I have to consciously exercise. I think the most important part of writing is summoning in your mind an image of an ideal audience that you are writing to. People who are caring, interested, thoughtful…. whatever qualities excite you. These imaginary people become your muse.

Sometimes you imagine specific people have these qualities and you make them your muse. Sometimes you find out they never had those qualities to begin with and it feels as though a piece of your muse has been lost. I guess that is what has been happening to me.

But then you summon your faith again and once again imagine a beautiful golden blob of humanity dangling above your head, filled with endless possibility. People so inviting you want to tell them everything.

Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies

I am a cloud.

Truly, I am a cloud & you can’t hurt me. I hope.

Right and wrong
Is not the things I know about.
A song- but I could calm the waters on a cold, gray day
You will know my name.

I am a cloud; you can’t hurt me!
Strike against me with your strongest hand
Blow you like a boy across the waters
Smash you like a board back to the land.

Filling up the sails of the sailors
You’ll never know where I lie
Cut me, it won’t make you any braver
Falling out of favor with the sky.

Right and wrong
Is not the things I know about.
A song- but I could still the waters on a cold, gray day
You will know my name.

I am a cloud; you can’t hurt me!
Fall upon me with your heavy hand
Run away and yet I seem to follow
Clinging to your whiskers like the sand.

Creeping like a fog above the waters
You’ll never know where I lie
Curling round your shoulders like a vapor
Sucking from your lungs another sigh.

Forty stars against the light of day
Forty stars that draw away, away, away.

Right and wrong
Are not the things I care about.
A song- but I could cool the waters on a cold, gray day
You will call my name.

A picture of heaven, where there are 2 soldiers for every rabbit.

Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Music & Songs


You filled my mind up with gold
Until my mind I gave away
Hidden nights, filled with spite
Left me numb in my left leg
But that’s life- I never wanted to be anyone’s wife.

Even breath, even life
People throw these things away
Even breath, even dreams,
More than this you’ll sacrifice just to stay.

You gotta move now, nothing is real
Into the woods now, we’ll make a deal
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.

Why are you still talking to me?
Take this fucking eggs away
Black inside, black inside
So many things you have to hide just to stay.

You gotta move now, nothing is real
Into the woods now, we’ll make a deal
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.

Grey figures surround me now
Dangling there by a string.
Soft voices slip under the door
To talk about everything.

Shadows of the leaves at night
Things we’ll never rise above
Plants upon the window pane
All the simple things I came here to love.

You gotta move now, nothing is real
Into the woods now, we’ll make a deal
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.
In the footprints of a runaway, you’ll find gold.

Download Mp3: Runaway


Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Sky Blue, Ether, Flags, and Fairies Uncategorized

Park Man

You could be my dark man
Stranger in the park man
Standing in your trench coat flashing
Stars above but somethings crashing down

You could be my shady friend
Standing where the street lights end
Shadows fall always behind you
No one seeks and no one finds you now

Clouds stretch so far away
Endless worlds of endless grey
Walk before me and I’l follow you
This road leads us to tomorrow, true?

Clouds takes shape but they always lie
We’ll get bored but we’ll never die
Lay your hand upon my head now
Lead me through the fog and dread now

You could be my shadow man
To offer me your white bread hand
Shelling peanuts with your finger
A dusty feeling I remember now

Life can be so many things
Sometimes swirling like a dream
Sometimes flat I’m trapped inside it
Close my eyes but they won’t hide it

Half alive but that’s okay
The other half is filled with gray
Eyes are reaching through the fog and lace
From another world I can almost place

You could be my answer man
A book to dull to understand
A slice of bread upon my plate
The rusty and forgotten gate to now.


Download Mp3: Park Man

Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Music & Songs Nashville Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

I also wanted to Make Love


Garth Brooks and his horse on a mountain path in Mexico.I like this song because it is a question song, and I really like questions. I like people who ask questions, and I love asking them myself. I’ve been trying to cut back though, because it can get to the point where I only ask questions and never make any statements at all. James (who may be biased because he hates questions and comes from a culture where they are neither asked nor answered) has also warned me that constantly asking questions could make me seem unintelligent.

But for some reason, appearing unintelligent has never bothered me. At times, it has been a source of joy, like in school, where through a campaign of routinely saying the dumbest things I could think of, I was able to change my horrible nickname “Brain,” to the more palatable “Brainless.” Being Brainless was fun. Brain had to stick to the program, saying things others could understand and appreciate, but Brainless wasn’t confined to those narrow gray crevices. She was free to explore, to soar to the clouds, to give the right answer OR the wrong one, if the spirit moved her.

Still, freedom  can lead to exhilaration,  and sometimes spin into intoxication and mania. One thing I have learned to appreciate about intelligence, even feigned intelligence, is its sobering and grounding aspects.

Download MP3: I Also Wanted to Make Love

Brooklyn Music & Songs

Lucky One


Pygmy with acanthus leaf, bones, and stars.In the movie Brooklyn’s Finest, a Brooklyn cop goes on a killing spree in order afford a safer home for his family. I can totally relate to his feelings, and yet, I kept wanting to yell at him, “Move to Indiana! Why don’t you just move to Indiana!! Don’t you realize there is cheaper housing there?!?”

Why does Brooklyn even exist- why doesn’t everyone just move to Indiana? What is the upside to Brooklyn? As far as I can tell, there isn’t more stuff to do, there isn’t greater earning potential… so, what gives?

At any rate, this is another song I wrote while struggling to keep my head above water in the belly of that concrete monster. As I’ve mentioned before, one of the hardest things to deal with was feeling deprived of all the things that make life feel happy and comfortable, like friends, nature, a happy home, a slice of pizza that hasn’t been held in a stranger’s dirty hands. My mind would spin around and around trying to think of ways I could bring this lost pastoral energy back into my life (Because somehow, just as in Brooklyn’s Finest, the idea that I could simply leave never seemed to enter my mind.)

At one point, I was convinced that the color orange was the answer. I saw Brooklyn as basically being the Kingdom of Gray, and thought orange might be the color that could cut through the thick dullness that gray represented, and bring in the energy of the Harvest, that time when all your efforts are rewarded and all the seeds you have planted come to fruition.

So, not having much money to spend on the color orange, I bought a basketball, a pair of orange high top shoes (the only orange shoes I could find for $9), plus some orange tissue paper and candles. I taped the orange paper to my wall and lit the orange candles beneath it. But when I opened my door, the paper caught fire and flew across the room like a giant orange monster, landing on the floor where I stomped it out (and then extinguished the wall). I decided to put the orange candles on my kitchen table instead, and let them burn through the night so I could wake up and enjoy my harvest in the morning. Instead, I was woken by a strange sound that turned out to be the entire surface of my kitchen table burning. The spirits of the harvest at work!


Download MP3: Lucky One

Brooklyn Music & Songs



Kevin Srebnick in checkered shirt drinking coffee.

To be countrified means to be made of stone and earth.

My life in Brooklyn was a constant struggle to avoid being countrified, but in a world so hard and gray that was pretty much impossible. Maybe, when it is your time to die, you should just do it peacefully.

But instead, I chose to rage against the dying of the light. Whenever I had a dollar, I headed straight to the neighborhood discount party supply store, where I would spend as much time as I could gazing (inconspicuously, I hoped) at the plastic party decorations in every color of the rainbow. In the end, I would usually settle on a plastic tablecloth in a color I had never bought before, which I would then take home and nail to my wall. Why? Because I was convinced there was one color out there who could magically change my life for the better. And once I found this color and nailed him to my wall- BAM! the world would transform in an instant.

When I had several dollars to spend, I went to a  discount greeting card shop, where, once again, I would nonchalantly loiter for as long as possible, before buying as many cards as I could afford and taking them home to stuff with glitter and feathers. I mailed these cards to everyone I knew- no matter how distantly- and learned there is no better way to alienate an acquaintance than a string of “I’m Glad We’re Friends!” cards with cute baby ducks on the front.


Download MP3: Countrified