Charleston, West Virginia men Politics Writings

A Black 8 Disclaimer

I see life as a collection of diverse and frequently opposing forces- elements, virtues, qualities etc- that must remain in a workable balance. All forces can be used for good or evil.

So please keep in mind, when I am writing about current events, whatever side I appear to stand on is relative to present day threats and imbalances, as I perceive them. If there is a drought, I want rain. When people are blobs, I want war. When everything turns to yellow, I want illegal drugs. When people are drowning in purple, I want to ban drugs. All of my stances are *relative*, so ten years from now I will likely be on a different side of the same issue. I don’t have a specific vision for what our society should look like, but I do feel it keenly when things have gotten out of whack.

I believe the stars in the sky are literally Virtues. There are a zillion virtues humans can attach to and many of these are diametrically opposed to one another. Therefore, it becomes about aligning with the virtues which lead you towards your peculiar destiny. Or sometimes relating to a virtue only temporarily, because it can guide you out of a problem you are facing. Following a virtue will guide our lives in a specific direction, just as the stars in the sky do.

Being a black 8 means that I believe all virtues are inherently equal, but only specific virtues will be helpful to a specific person or situation. Therefore I don’t judge things by whether they match a specific ideal, but by whether or not they feel right or else give you a darkened backwards spin in your stomach. Generally, I don’t like men in dresses for example, but sometimes I do. Generally, I don’t think people should consult astrologers, but sometimes they should. Right & wrong is about aligning with an underlying true nature which is infinitely variable in the forms it can take.

So right now I promote virtues like patriotism, hard work, self reliance, masculinity etc because it feels as though they are needed. We are overdosing on empathy, introspection, sensitivity and self-care to the point that they have become toxic and are poisoning people. But they aren’t inherently bad. Personally, I am more introspective than patriotic because that relates to my specific life purpose. Since I have an active use for the energy of introspection, it isn’t toxic to me.

But to suggest that everyone needs to spend time journaling is just icky. *IF* any virtues are to be overemphasized, they should be the virtues related to survival- hard work, responsibility, common sense etc. Because without enough of these root level virtues, everything else becomes irrelevant.

And it is disturbing that these foundational virtues are the very ones under attack. As someone who works in non-practical realms I feel a sense of gratitude & debt towards those who do practical things. Because without them I wouldn’t exist. When musicians search for flaws in the way lumberjacks think as an excuse for attacking them, it is so wrong. The impractical should never disdain the practical and pretend to be its superior. Nor is it reasonable to think root level people will tolerate this forever. Musicians need lumberjacks more than lumberjacks need musicians & it is important to never forget this.

Of course, some musicians find my views on this offensive. Usually male musicians. I don’t know why. But to me, it isn’t a negative to need someone more than they need you. Why is that wrong? It’s just the way life is.

Charleston, West Virginia Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Writings

Trapped in Man Crust

I feel like I am trapped in a man’s body. Not my physical body, but like there is a giant man around me, a crusty man suit, which I must wear to deal with the outside world. It is so heavy. But I need to act like a man so people can understand me. Men do not understand women, in my experience. You must put everything in manguage so they can hear it. If you want to seem intelligent you must seem heavy & thick. Women can understand you regardless, but I must be a man around them as well, because women need men, and I feel responsible for taking care of them.

It would feel selfish not to be a man. Lift heavy logs, stroke egos, be boring & responsible. This is my moral programming. Above all- be crusty. My feminine self doesn’t even want to be nice to people- it would prefer people being nice to me. My man self doesn’t care how it is treated though. You can break giant logs over his head and it will not deter him from trying to care for you.

My feminine self does not understand the things people say. People seem to talk in puffy word clouds, with their words having no specific meaning. Men do this especially. They puff out words & the words have that intelligent aura, but when you try to boil them down, you cannot find anything specific they are saying at all! I don’t know how to process that.

Most of the concepts people throw around mean nothing to me- love, compassion, forgiveness, goodness, kindness, equality… what are these things? Once again, they feel like clouds, positively charged, commonly used to obscure something nasty. They evoke fear in me. When you see empty positivity, you can be certain its opposite- tangible negativity- is not far behind. Why do people blow these words around? Do people wake up in the morning thinking “Equality. Compassion. Heal the World?” Or are these concepts only used when others are listening?

I don’t understand books either, though I try. I open them to a random page, read the first sentence, and realize this will be unbearable. I can tolerate children’s books- so long as there are no morals involved- and also simple autobiographies- so long as they aren’t written by writers. I detest the puffy way writers write. I guess I have real issues regarding words.

Though I wish I could be real around people, I can’t. My real self is needy, weak, pathetic. Semi-retarded. The opposite of what anyone needs. I must be peoples Knight in Shining Armor. I must protect them and be the one to take bullets. I must lift heavy logs & then retreat back into the woods with a sporty whistle. The lesbian lumberjack. It is so lonely though. There is too much of me and too little of anyone else.

But also there is none of me and too much of everyone else.

Technically there are other people in my life but they feel… predictable. They rarely say or do anything I could not have thought of myself. I wish people were more surprising and could open doors to new realities. I wish books could do the same, but I can’t find these books.

Of course, I mostly connect with others in a mental fashion. In physical life, I bet people are surprising. Robbing banks, anal sexing their cousins…

But the mental realm tends towards dullness. It may be the average person just doesn’t have much to say beyond recirculating group mind concepts. Talk to a few people & it can feel as though you have talked to them all.

Perhaps emotional relationships are the answer. What does this mean though? I think the essence of emotion is to give of yourself. To take a risk. To make a sacrifice. There must be some transfer of bodily fluids, at least on a symbolic level, or relationships are pointless. Social media does not make this easy though. In many cases you have no idea who you are interacting with and just opening up a vein does not seem advised. In real life, exchanging fluids is now illegal since it spreads disease.

Nonetheless there is something about giving of oneself, in a meaningful way, that magically opens the door between people enabling you to see through their eyes and know things you could never have known. I am not sure if words alone can do this. I guess that is why people used to sacrifice animals to the Divine- spilling living fluid to open up a portal beyond what prayer can do.

I am glad we don’t sacrifice animals anymore, but still the principle applies. Blood, sweat, tears, something liquid must spill or else nothing truly new can ever break through into this world.

Blue, Black, Silver, Water, Moons, Death & Ghosts Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Videos

Old Guitar (Video)

Trying to take a video with my telephone.

This song is called “Old Guitar” which is strange because I hate songs that mention guitars in them. It is creepy- like a painting of a paint brush. I don’t trust artists that are so into art that they actually write songs about it. It feels masturbatory when artists set art too high on a pedestal. If artists are going to worship anyone, it should be the people who make it possible for them to pursue lacy ephemeral things- people like lumberjacks, soldiers, carpenters, farmers, moms etc. It is only thanks to these practical people that the ones like me can exist.*

Also,  I sort of believe that- as much as possible- artist should try to be soldiers & lumberjacks themselves, not just sit around fingering a guitar all day. Otherwise, they are like cut flowers that don’t have much to draw upon.