A pierced mind

Who says that life is without promise or premise? Those who have been pierced by those beautiful thorns - obstacles - and found a clever way to bitch about it. That's right. I'm calling out the lot of you bawling cakerake wannabees who want through strategic slackerdom what can only be had through hard work, quiet patience, and that rare burning vigor you used to see on anime magazine covers and in your girl's eyes after a few passionate thrusts of pleasure.

Now I'm not saying this is coming from nowhere straight to your face. This is coming exclusively from having been there, tasted, basked in the lameness, and an now an advocate for responsible awesomeness. If you want to be the best the world has seen, then you had better get used to feeling that way in your drawers laying vulnerable and refreshed in the bed.

Good kudos to he who asks the deep questions and gets his life in working check. In other words, it's quite awesome to push yourself to the limit and enjoy it. It's a shambling shame to do anything less, especially today. Life for many people has been a blind, twisting journey, so if you're not showing them the golden alternative through living a lavish life bereft with the spoils of labour not born of your own hand, they will probably attempt to strike you down. Nothing personal, but misery loves company - and what's new about that?

And too - I see a need. Whether it be real today or not, the seed is in my head, and getting it on canvas is the best when it's fresh. Damn and thank you for not smoking. Unless it's that good, in which case our desire to not smoke is smoldered by Devon's failing face.

-Have a good one.

Tame your Silence

Speak your mind. It is yours to speak with. Feed your mind. It is yours to feed. Know your mind, it is yours to use.

That's really all I have to say right now.

Be Well

Death, and it's ceaseless marching

We are all going to die. This I know and I'm sure I signed up for it at the gate. Sadly though, when we die tragically, or with pitiful atrophy, one must understand the piercing of the heart is not merely from grief, but possibly from guilt.

I'm seasoned with guilt and remorse over the death of my surrogate stepfather, Willie Webster, a man who fell early in life but came out of it, rose up, met my mother, and took me in as his son.

As a father figure, he was never a quietly good fit, we had our differences. I was a quiet, frightened child then, so timid but knowing. We didn't argue or anything, but there was a lot of tense air for a while and to this day I can still feel it when I know things aren't right. Despite this, though, he did his best to provide for us, to work and trod home, to a house endearing to his fatigue, his inner restlessness, his desire for internal solace.

He was a good man - although bereft with his own guilt and confusion - but that damn sure wasn't the end of him, and nowhere close to the majority of him. I love him and will miss him. May his soul find peace, light, and understanding.

Once I found out he died, I didn't cry. He's not suffering anymore. No tears were shed. But I felt it. I felt it deep in me. I'm not sad, not grasping for anything, but I feel it. There is no explanation of anything right now.

What is certain, however, is that you will never be forgotten. Never. I will send prayers to you daily, and prayers upon your family. I love you and appreciate all you've done for me in this life. If you're watching me, watch a powerful man grow, ever quickly, ever reaching further. The limits of understanding are within my grasp. This life is also for you too Willie. Thank you.

For anyone who lost a loved one today or any day since or before, like the Blue Oyster Cult said, "Don't fear the Reaper". We will all someday meet and fear will mean nothing then, just as it means little now. Uplift their names and do right by them. Do their spirits proud.

Rest in Peace Willie Webster,

-Julius McClendon

There will be time to rest

Is what one of my uncles told me in a careful, pin and needle conversation recently. Although we danced around volatile tension, the transfer of wisdom between us is always endearingly stuffed with vies for dominance. As a young sun, it's difficult not to see the right in your every step, and it's good to know someone older and possibly wiser than you has the care in them to let you know, in whatever way, that you don't know a damn thing.

So during this, one of the things we talked about was being a man - and having the discern to see what a real man was as compared to what happens when you don't "make the grade." It seems that much of what creates a man is based on the direction of his thoughts, a root from which everything else cascades. For a man, to be good means to develop momentum of good thoughts, and then to ripple that momentum out physically - so then he's doing good things. Your intent, therefore, is your compass. The purpose then becomes to decide which way this intent will go.

In any given direction, there is potential for power, ruin, and victory. Too much of any of those will change you, in whatever slant that direction is. So if your intent is to be the most attractive male you know, then you start on a quest to develop this power.

Now once you get it - and you will - then you have to worry about abuse. Will you downplay others for your own selfishness? Will you spiritually become a bully? This direction, selfish in nature, will now crust over, giving you thick skin and feelings which are consequently hard to pierce. You become now ruined as long as you cling onto the selfishness, because you become isolated. That isolation leads you to power, but keeps you from circulating that power...because you are isolated So it implodes eventually.

But the other important factor is being able to work - to not dodge or create crafty machines to do the work for you, but to have the physical capacity to serve. There is no higher purpose today than to serve your fellow man. "There will be time to rest," he says. I believe him.

Be well,

-Julius

Surface Level Tension

So I'm in that mildewed butterfly zone of toxic bubbled trouble, and it's about as ass as you can get.







I'm in debt, I see the light and want to be an entrepreneur but am starting with a cough's amount of skrilla, I have to finish school,
I've got a few courtiers that are offering wonderful but currently flimsy opportunities. And no car to twiddle with them in a timely and consistent way. So what does this billowing brain do?

Get a job. Says my uncle, the well meaning and most practical man on the planet. He's a good guy, does well and means well - he just knows a bit about what it means to fuck up in life and not be able to go back. I've got a job, but one is enough - it's a stream of income that trades my time for it's earnings, and that's a system I only halfway agree with, because you can earn far more when...you aren't attached to an office/chair/job/position and you're free to earn far more. But you've got to have strategies to earn more or else it's just you slacking because you're not sure how to use the time masterfully. So sayeth Julius.

Another thing Julius is always yapping about is subordinate modeling, a form of hierarchal preservation...but more on that when there isn't a watching baby in the post.

So here's what I'm going to do, because if I don't do something soon, crying and bitchdom will have their time, and that simply cannot be allowed.

1. Plan. 2. Act on the plan. 3. Assess the result. 4. Checkpoint Celebration. 5. Return to one.

The fleshing of these steps is a private matter for now, because I've known in the past that talk is cheap unless it carries weight. When I get to #4, we'll talk during the celebration. ;)

Not better than, different from

Astonishingly enough, I've caught myself in a rut, riddled with feh flavoured moments of dismal failure and bitter confusion. I'll recover, but I've erected a poem for that moment of victory:

I see you've come a little different
now
Not so wanting any more.
Hopeful inside,
your selfishness has left you
But your willful stride has not.
I see you've shaved with calm strokes today
Where again is that stress you so taskingly display?
Are you on a whim again
Or trying harder?
Is your day longer
or your night shorter?
Who is at the reins of you?
I have kept myself in order
you have not in my eyes
But now, these eyes are lowered,
and my mouth silent.
and before them stands a man
not like the one I knew before.
He is agile and sleek in thoughts
his charm effortless
and his problems gated,
not hidden but on display.
So maybe I'll study
because perhaps I will have to know
what it means to be
different from
instead of better than
for a height unshared
is no height; but a calm prison
Sometimes.

Handle it Motivational #001

"Let your talk be the clothing of your action, and let your action define who you are. Let this identity form your role in your society, and let your society form a collective perspective. Let this collective perspective optimize this society, and its existence benefit the world."

-Julius McClendon

What works today is not the same fiber of thought that will work tomorrow, at least not in the same way. New answers to ageless issues are commonplace, because the issues are recieved differently from each generation. Principles do not adhere to scale, and so learning powerful principles is prime wisdom for today's acheiver. Or at least I think so.

On that note, I haven't done a concrete thing with myself for at least 6 months. So much habitual planning and perspectives that relate to planning - it's limited today. Since everything is available in such abundance now, ideally new and fresh ways of presentation and adaptation solidify people by a collected outreach. Everyone will get the message, just not the same way. It's like a macrocosm of marketing techniques, but in a glamourously efficient way. Think about it. Feel it.

Those closer to their intuition today should be wise in their asking or depending on the outside world. Be well.

Have a good one.