Writing to this…

So there it is, up in the air, movements for the currency. I’m just a dude with mad problems or no problem at all, the why and the how – a fixated thing commingling with strength – a new face with armor for amour and what not. You see, I’m just a dude raised by that which makes me individual. I – N – D – I – vidual.

“Did you think too much today?”

“Yeah man, I did, shed a few tears as my car rolled through to see ya”

“What’s it mean?”

“Don’t know… I asked God in my note app for help, felt things pouring off me”

“You believe in God?!”

“I want to, I cry for God, I yearn to feel its universe take me over and set me free”

You see, we just people, without much true definable balances. We just people, fractions and experiences giving us the bumps and gold that we are ourselves asking for.

‘What do you want?”

“Want? Hmmm,..to feel this weight in something other than anger, to accept everything I cannot change, to punch a city block with my fist and watch it explode…to hug my cat outside for the first time. To stand up in a crowded space and yell “what are you really thinking?” I want a lot of things, but I already have so much of what I wanted the last time we spoke”

“Yeah its been a minute. What’s next if you don’t really want anything? You should def stand up and yell that sometime”

“I might…No clue really, maybe just some clearing for my head, for a day, maybe,… I need some new shoes fella, maybe a rich older women who will let me be a house cat”

You see, no matter what the differing languages or narratives that are fiction…Its all just a game. Others around us feed off our contemplation, life being life, an excitable risk but a hurtful immediacy for the ones living it. Although the very art of living it, means you are experiencing the major gift afforded to a human being – to know you’re alive means to feel being alive. To know you feel means you are being yourself…the rest is the rest, and the low frequencies of communications don’t stick, hell, they don’t even register a wave of any kind. So forget’m

“Are you down?”

“Yeah man, I’m down, exposed, and raw, ready to be vulnerable and tough, so I guess I’m not all the way as you said, down”

“Whatcha gonna do about it?”

“I’m going to put one foot in front of the other, and keep walking through doors dude, one day at a time”

“Ha, that sounds like a self help mantra”

“Right…I mean, everything out here is some form of “Self Help”, even the shit we do that doesn’t help, it all goes back to that place,  either way you swing it.”

“Good point”

You see, I’m a man who is still, but inside me is a current that gives, and loves, and works. Its the ocean, its the animal vibrations, the camp fire rumination, and the words I stutter when they make me nervous. And I get nervous, and I’m still here. Thats effort, that who is me, and me who is him – a complicated pulsing body of energy just waiting for the next story, in this book that has absolutely no dust on it, because its used, a favorite, A “I can’t put it down” top ten, favorite – existence, full bodied expression, a sun a moon, and the damn dirt to burry the bullshit. Don’t forget your shovel.

“You believe in Flow?”

“Like what…if it flows, then it goes?… yeah man, thats how I’m out here now, flow, or bye in all directions, but nervous, def nervous, or i was taught to be”

“How do you know though?”

“You don’t, its about listening to the awareness you’ve worked for up until now, and testing it, learning, failing, creating a remedy to improve”

“That seems like it could get too passive, or hell, even lonely”

“Well, as applied to being with girls or friends in gerneral, yeah man, it can be tricky, but you just feel it, you know, a sense of it, if its too hard, or nerve racking, then its just not happening…ha, I say that but its complicated, I’m open to all suggestions, I have no clue what you do once you step out of the philistine cage”

You see, the faces are planted in time I cannot reach anymore, no reasons, no rhymes, just bankrupt old news that fuels the epiphany curriculums for these new pathways. Give me an edge and I’ll  put it on a sword, place it into a stone, then watch it shoot out colors of imagination. Your storms are not negotiable. I am I-N-D-I VIDUAL, all the  thrills, highly original. Turn the page please.

“You ever regret things, surely you regret something, right?”

“Regret?, yeah man, I regret talking to you right now, no but for real…yeah, I regret things. I mean, I’m alive and thats gonna come with a lot of regret, a lot of contemplations, so much wonder about the “what if,” and the “should not”, but its too late for any of that. The regrets aren’t real, they don’t exist. I can be anyone I want to be, at any moment. Now that doesn’t mean I don’t feel for those situations I could regret. When we regret it means a part of ourselves is out in the world and that narrative we fear belongs to the mind of someone else, we fear those versions of ourselves that no longer belong to us, and will never be us again.”

“I think I know what you mean, like…opinion, or reputation?”

“Sure, or anything really, that moments you regret is frozen, and frankly they are gifts to others who need them to feel better about their regrets, we have to be the villain as much as we have to be the victim, or the hero, we owe debts for each”

“Now I’m lost”

“Good, because you’re too young not to be lost”

You see, its all moving and changing and circling back to a different you in this point in time. Nothing matters anymore but the next step forward, the ego is dead, so redundant in its exposure, its lack of care, its general sense of black hole dispositions, just dead. The prancing taps of your feet can pull you up from the grown swirl, then you can shoulder that shit, let it dip, push it with the hip, then brush it off with your newest versions, tighten up your fancy for the next episode in what is sure to be a regret or a win, or the story you feed yourself for your future. We just change, nothing more. We just are now, nothing more. Next phase please.

“Good seeing you man”

Yeah, it was, thanks for letting me express things, I needed it today buddy”

“Don’t thank me, Its fun to see you passionate about something” 

“I love ya”

“Love you too”

“No matter what”



Necessary Illusions – Nomadic Firs

Necessary illusions Artwork

The original design is a painting I created last summer, For the song art I made edits using photoshop – adding negative space for a minimal feel. 

Among the wide range of things I enjoy doing, music is probably the one area I spend most of my time. Well, at least for the last decade or more, two decades if you count my start in the DJ/Promoter world. Both of which I have plans to get back into in the next year. My “to do” list is getting quite full these days, grateful for that.

I just released “Necessary Illusions” from my project Nomadic Firs. It’s the first single from a brand new album. It will be out early next year, and it’s called – What’s The Narrative?  The new song along with all my previous releases are available on all major streaming sites, including Spotify – here.

The vocal was recorded five years ago, but the music around it has changed a dozen times.



“Every time you fade awhile”

Verse 1

“One more shot for the way you feel, its out there in the way its falling. I heard you running wild, thrilling the way you look for smiles. If you need some concentration everyone is out there at the gala. We can only be free if we set it off for awhile.”

“Every time you fade awhile”

Verse 2

“Everytime you fade awhile, I can be nothing but the silent. Running to the alley way, figure out what to say is right. I don’t need no one for me, everyone is wrapped up in illusion. You can be waiting for, the right person, your whole life.”

“Every time you fade awhile”


There will be a slew of singles released before the album is out in full. The new record will have guest singers and will go in a variety of different directions.

From Elite Daily Website: A Mature Woman Doesn’t Make Her Man Jealous, But Others Jealous Of Him

“Different Faces”

PROLOGUE – The Teacher And The Father

August 7th  – “A little over a year ago I entered into the most important relationship of my life.. A relationship that helped me slow down, showed me myself, and taught me to love. I am here because of that and also not because of that. In truth, I do not believe I could have made this much progress had I not met my partner. He helped me return to what I believe is important and always have but lost sight of due to…”  – Girl

Words that will forever define what love and kindness can provide for a person. And for me personally, these words reveal truth, and I’m thankful they were expressed clearly and shared, even if ultimately the significance matters very little in this moment, and no longer exist – they provide a path toward healing and acceptance for me.


I came across this blog post on Elite Daily – I had to share it. I was “manipulated” this way by a partner, and it was traumatizing and damaging overall to my head. It doesn’t matter at this point, I am doing the work to defeat this mental trauma, but its helpful for my journey, and on this site that’s what matters.

We can be so lost in the idea of loving someone that we will protect their lying because we will lose our ability to choose ourselves, over the love we want to believe is real. There’s reasons for this I have yet to understand, but what I do know is I personally spent over a year allowing my way of life, values, and joy to be corrupted by love – its my fault for believing them. I allowed another human being to cheapen the only thing left that I trusted – that love can never lose if its real. For someone like myself, vulnerability has been at the center of everything I believe in. This experience taught me that love is beautiful, but we can’t place ourselves with just anyone, even if that means we have to admit they are not the “one” we’ve been waiting for. I won’t allow skeptics to tell me the poetry around loving someone is fiction, no one can remove that from me. If I allow for the excavation of my passion, then everything I do will become less than what is suppose to be – writing, music, laughter, the way I hold my sons. I will love again, its too wonderful not to. Next time I will make sure my energy is not used for the cheap seats of validation, attention, and games. And of course I will work to improve the things I need to fix in myself. Its never a one sided experience.

We will accept dishonesty when we’re addicted to love and allow toxic relationships to inhabit our individual self, while being blinded by an idea. Insecure people will use tactics to control their partners by inducing jealousy which is also a form of Love Addiction, maybe the worst kind. When we make our partners feels crazy its just wrong – it creates real damage. When we gaslight, and make our person feel like there is something wrong with them, its inhumane.

 – Gaslighting is a form of psychological manipulation in which a person seeks to sow seeds of doubt in a targeted individual or in members of a targeted group, making them question their own memory, perception, and sanity.

I have begun learning about love addiction to better understand relationships, especially my own issues with attachment patterns. The original article was written by Lauren Martin, here

A Mature Woman Doesn’t Make Her Man Jealous, But Others Jealous Of Him

But, I love you… that’s why my arm was wrapped around another man.

We’ve all done it. Admit it. We’re self-sabotaging machines who like to take a good thing and ruin it with evil plans and diabolical scheming. We’ve all texted a guy, danced with a man or flirted with a boy just to make him look.

We’ve all done the absolute stupidest thing in the world in the belief it was the smartest move. We’ve all tried to make our men jealous, and it’s blown up in all our faces.

Since we were old enough to know what the green monster looked like, we’ve had a knack for trying to bring him out. We just want to watch him emerge, and then make him leave when he starts to scare us.

But jealousy is just like cheap fabric — it seems like a good deal, but then quickly unravels. You can’t sustain a relationship on easy tricks and bad ploys.

You don’t make drama to make a relationship. You’re supposed to be getting away from that stuff, not stirring it up every time you’re together.

I know it’s hard, but you have to stay away from the glittery idea of making him green. I know it’s fun to try and twist him around your finger (before he can try and put you under his thumb), but at the end of the day, it’s not where you’ll want him.

You want a man whom you respect, who stands next to you — not under you. You want a relationship without games and drama, but stability and trust.

Part of growing up is learning jealousy is a kid’s game and like child’s play, someone almost always ends up hurt and crying.

Because girls make their men jealous — women make them proud to be standing next to them.

Women find their worth in themselves; girls, in the opinion of random men.

Attention — you can’t sustain yourself on it.

Like those sugary treats you loved as a kid, you’re supposed to grow out of them and find other, more wholesome things, to fill up on. There’s no real value in the stares and empty promises of random men.

You must find your sustenance somewhere else because attention fades and the only thing that lasts is the opinion you hold of yourself.

Women are secure in their relationship; girls try to secure another date.

One of the major benefits of a relationship is the break from the games. No longer do you go out looking for men, but revel in the notion of knowing you have one back at home waiting for you. You can finally scrap the rehearsed lines and the tight jeans and just be real.

It’s a nice feeling and one that shouldn’t be ruined by trying to prove something to yourself — or him.

Women support their men; girls shove other men in his face.

Just because he intimidates you or you’re insecure in the relationship doesn’t mean he’s immune to all your evil tricks and games. Just because you put him on a pedestal doesn’t mean he’s not bound to fall off.

Women value honesty; girls lie to get him interested.

A relationship, like a house, crumbles when built on a faulty foundation. There’s no faultier material than dishonesty. Like jealousy, lies are a cheap ploy to reel him in, but are never strong enough to hold him there.

A woman knows being upfront at the start is the only way to create something lasting past the superficial chit-chat and flashy exterior.

Women bring their men up; girls make them feel bad when they’re down.

A wise woman understands she has the power to bring men up, not just down. A girl knows she can seduce a man, get him to do things for her, and watch him devote his life and attention to her whims and desires.

She knows, better than anyone, the power of the pussy is, indeed, real. But a smart woman doesn’t succumb to the temptation of it. She wants a partner, not a slave.

Women give a sh*t; girls pretend like they don’t.

It takes more courage to be honest. It’s not weak or shameful to admit how you feel — it’s the sign of a mature woman.

Hiding your feelings, bottling them up only to express them in destructive, immature ways is the sign of a scared little girl. Pretending like you don’t care may seem like a cool way to act, but it’s only going to keep you further away from what you really want.

Admitting how you feel, being open and honest about your intentions, isn’t a defeat, but a sign of maturity.

“The sickness in others is not a burden to carry”


The two drink hangover is a new phenomenon in my experience. For once I opted to leave early, take the exit to ensure a quality nights sleep before my early morning class the next day. In the past I would allow the moment to pass by me, knowing I should leave  but opting for curiosity – a continuation to explore what the night might bring.

The evening was relaxed –  I needed the drink and chat to come down from a five hour round trip car ride through the mountains of North Carolina, then back home to Tennessee – a perfect day for a drive. I met a couple of friends I haven’t seen in over a year at Public House. I bonded with her last summer, and felt our time together could bring more than it had  – energy not living up to its full potential – deeper friends. They are both good people, working tirelessly to figure out there love dynamic – what they are, want, or need. We chewed on relationships, I gave my verbal dance of opinion, felt a bit over cooked after the exchange but a text today made me realize I was over thinking it. When I get around people in public spaces my hands and arms get active – I begin to feel like a magician whose trying too hard to sound smart. And I’m trying to figure out my own head space for love. The times shared felt good though  – a safe space with untamed energy bubbling underneath potent honesty.

Earlier in the day I took my sons to a Sikh Temple (Gurdwara) where we sat with friends listening to music, and a sermon. I sat next to an elder, not sure if thats what to call him. He translated the sermon in my right ear, and the lyrical themes from the two musicians who came in from Chattanooga. He is a kind man, gracious in his delivery – understanding I had no real clue what was taking place. Other than a few political science and religious courses in college, I didn’t have much to latch onto for what was taking place – I was disarmed in my pride around ignorance. I asked him where he was from, he had a puzzled look on his face. He said “I am from here, came here in 95” “But I was born in India”. Being the person I am, for a moment I felt bad, like I had offended him – but once I reminded myself that it was ok to ask that question, it was ok to not know anything about the Temple. In this mind set I was able to see it from unfettered eyes.  Everyone treated us like family, hugging my children as their own.

When you enter the Gurdwara (residence of the guru)  you take off your shoes and cover your head to show respect. My sons never questioned it, just followed my lead. After the sermon, large bowels with prasad (similar to cookie dough) were passed around – a blessed food received with cupped hands as a gift from God. We had three helpings, and others shared more with us – my kids loved it. After the sermon we all walked downstairs to eat together. The food was dynamic, enriching, and whole, not vegan but vegetarian – potatoes, rice, garbanzo beans, and other things.

All together we were at the Temple for five hours. In the past three months I have been to three different kinds of Sunday worship – Universalist, Christian, and Sikhism. I’m looking for it, ready to engage in a self that has deeper meaning, one that will vacate the notions of singularity – the hope that through God, or the universe, my intent as a human being will find a true sense of the word love. Going inward toward discipline feels better than continuing the wild notions of nothing.