mazecraft13 | Recent Entries

Sometime ago in this journal I wrote that my solitude was being disrupted by a new roommate. Well. That went terribly. I offered up my home to my old high school buddy and somehow, he ended up taking up the room I offered, the living room, the patio, and eventually every space in the house except the kitchen table and my bedroom. He even took over the garage. I had no space left anywhere. It was so brash and audacious, that I was in shock that anyone would take up so much space without a second thought or any conscious awareness of the smothering out of another person's sense of home and sanctuary.

Sure he wasn't all bad. He did the dishes and made breakfast once in a while. Paid his half of the rent (but no other bills) and occasionally did one off helpful things around the house. But in exchange for what? He took ownership of every space he entered with the entitlement of a person accustomed to being the only thing in this world that matters. I was already long since ready to be rid of him and how, when I found out Donna was planning to move to California and looking for a place.

Hey, two birds with one stone! I can get rid of the parasite that was infecting my zen, and help out a friend that would a thousand times over be a better and more conscientious roommate. So, I gave my parasite a few months notice to GTFO and unsurprisingly he didn't use any of the time to actually prep for a move or secure a place to go. I am not a monster and did not want to put him out on the street, but a timeline is a timeline and other people are putting their lives on hold while he continued to prioritize bullshit after bullshit instead of diligently working on something as important as a place to live. So I confronted him last week.

He came home from hanging out with a defunct washed up band nobody gives two shits about anymore and bragging about taking them all to see the Pink Floyd exhibit in LA and was just rambling incessantly while he used my kitchen to cook himself some gross smelling fish sticks. As he went on and on about his day, and the petty and insignificant BS that he involves himself with out in the dirty streets of LA, my aggravation and frustration were ratcheting up with every word until I finally blurted out:

"Not to piss on your parade but January is 10 days away and you haven't done shit about getting out of here. You haven't packed up a single box, you are spending all your time fucking off and I am starting to wonder if you are just planning on staying here until I have you physically thrown out! Every time we talk about this I get dismissive answers and smile and nod reassurances that you will be out on time and I am sick of these empty and meaningless promises just to shut me up. If I were you and I had no idea where I was going to be crashing in a few weeks I would have at least started moving the stuff that I wanted to keep into storage until I found a place to land."

Obvs that is a condensed version got out over the course of the conversation where he basically tried to tell me it would only take him a few hours to move out to which I told him he was delusional and not just about that. Overall the conversation got pretty heated with him staring daggers at me the whole time and my voice only shook once, mostly from rage as I was trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

Well it took more than a few hours, and in fact it took a few days, but when I came home from the Christmas gathering with my family he was gone and almost all of his stuff with him. He left some clothes in the closet and a few odds and ends, along with a few gallons of paint on the patio, and of course the carpet in the room was completely wrecked. But the important thing is that he is gone and my peace of mind and sanctuary is returned.

I still have a lot to do around here to make it a proper sanctuary. Cleaning, getting rid of lots of stuff, redecorating, and of course, when Donna moves in she and I will create the sanctuary together. But for now, I am enjoying the peace, quiet, and solace of my own home again.

Current Mood: hopeful
Current Location: Sanctuary
Current Music: "A Day" Clan of Xymox

There is an intersection/conflict within my echo chamber on toxic positivity and self-empowerment memes that is a bit disturbing. Algorithms have a tendency to boost the signal on similar ideas that inevitably are repeated ad nauseum and can take on the role of conditioning not unlike brainwashing.

I have written before about the tendency for (even good) ideas to become corrupted as they are generalized and applied where they are inapplicable. A lot of the self-empowerment memes I am seeing lately are actually quite toxic if they are applied where they don't fit.

Like a post from one or more of these pseudo-psychology pages and over time you are going to be indoctrinated with an avoidant and dissociative reactionary mindset that eviscerates everything it sees. And underneath the hardened shell through which no love can pass will still be a person deeply hurting and unable to receive comfort.

The guardian we set to protect us often becomes the jealous guard that won't let anyone close. This isn't to say that we should allow toxic people unfettered access to us, nor allow abusive or manipulative behaviors to weaken and rob us of our sovereignty. But those protective measures should not become a defining characteristic of your personality.

Take a deep breath, relax your shoulders, be curious and flexible, do not hold too tightly to anything lest you squeeze it out of shape. And of course, protect yourself from those that would harm you intentionally or not.

In regard to toxic positivity, I would say that many of us already understand that it is harmful to ourselves and others to ignore pain, injustice, disparity, and violence. It is the height of entitlement and privilege to focus only on the good in this world because it is not directly impacting us. Further, for those that are dealing with enormous challenges physically, mentally and emotionally, toxic positivity places yet another burden on them to try to live up to a fantasy ideal that completely disregards their experienced reality.

All that being said, even those that are struggling with tremendous adversity and trauma might need reminding once in a while that beyond the threshold of whatever difficulties they are going through is a world that still has some good to offer. (Cue Sam's speech to Frodo from the LotRs). Cause honestly sometimes those reminders might just be the thing that can get them through one more day.

So, I offer the following Vonnegut quote we've seen so many times as a reminder, with the caveat that we still need to honor and address the struggles too:

“Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place”

― Kurt Vonnegut Jr.

I woke from a wee nap a little bit ago (You're welcome Maze at 3am) and I was hovering in that thin layer of sleep just below consciousness where the wild and unstructured thought processes give me amazing gifts such as Juliette Lewis reciting one of her monologues from Natural Born Killers, except I haven't seen that movie in a thousand years and I am not entirely sure it wasn't just my mind writing the monologue from scratch. Or also, a part of the dream where I went to the fridge craving fresh fruit but everything was going bad. Meanwhile my roommate was in a stereo-war with the neighbors playing old 80s and 90s metal on his sound system while the neighbors answered with drum and bass/techno. It turns out I was actually hearing my roommates music coming through the wall from his art studio/room and it was infiltrating my dream.

I finally got up from my nap and my vision was distorted around the periphery of my vision for a while. It wasn't blurry, exactly. Imagine looking through a bullet hole in a glass window, but the glass didn't crackle or frost, remaining clear. Now when you look through the hole you are aware of the glass and can see through it, and everything looks normal through the hole obviously. Anyway the distortion went away after a little bit. I think my blood pressure is kinda high again.

So, remember when I was talking about distortions a while back. I encountered them again in another online space and honestly it not only made me sad, but frustrated and a bit angry. Its kind of complicated to explain in any really nuanced way, but it came down to a handful of interactions in a discord for fans of a podcast about a beloved book series. One of the things that comes up in social media spaces around this series is a misogynistic hot take on one of the characters that ascends to a position of power. Basically a lot of men tend to berate this character because of some of her (very well written) character flaws, deriding and minimizing her accomplishments along the way. Yet, they will defend to the death male characters that are infinitely worse in every way possible. If you speak with these guys long enough and tease out their point of view, you will eventually arrive at the inescapable conclusion that they just hate that this female character attained such a powerful place in the world without any help from, and maybe even in spite of, a man.

All that being said a fluid conversation came up about this character and (thinking in my current space we were all of a common mind) I mentioned that post book 5 (its a long series) she was my favorite character but that admittedly she had done some awful things before that. One of the women in the discord quote replied my comment "I would like to hear a list of some of these 'Awful Things' you are speaking of." I immediately understood that she was trying to suss out if I am one of those misogynists I described earlier and stated unequivocally that I do not subscribe to that shitty way of looking at her character, that she is one of my favorites in the series, and further that I was being really hyperbolic and was alluding to the one thing pretty much everybody in the fandom agrees was a shit thing to do.

She thanked me for clarifying and of course I completely understood where she was coming from and I appreciated her asking me before just attacking me outright as might have happened. But apparently she was already activated and had been prepared to unleash holy hell and couldn't let it go. I'm reminded of the time the Christian crusaders on their way to the Holy Land attacked the Also Christian Constantinople because they were so amped up to commit violence. Same mechanism but on a much tinier scale. She wrote back "But maybe next time don't say a female character is awful for 5 whole ass books!"

Listen. I know this sounds petty as hell. Just bear with me for a minute because this is no longer about our fandom. It is about unprocessed shadow material and projection. Basically she was ready to attack, and when I was like "naw its cool crusader, pass on through and have fun killing the infidels," her blood was already hot and she was like "fuck it you are a man and I am going to punch you in the face."

Modern social justice politics for men is a lot harder if you are, or desire to be an ally. You get punched in the face a lot, and everyone is going to tell you different things about what you should and shouldn't do. If you punch back, or defend yourself, well you should have just accepted that men have been suppressing women for years and if you aren't the one that has done it, you should be willing to take the punishment for it. Swallow your pride and let her have the win, in other words, cause she needed it more than your right to self-defense. Men are toxic as fuck and should be sensitive and understanding, but if you get punched in the face, take it like a man- stoically, and don't forget to apologize for patriarchy on your way out.

Well, I am sorry but I am not going to be punched in the face for all the shitty things men have said about your favorite female character when she is also my favorite character and would have punched those men in the face too.
I even went back to my original comment and was like, did I say that? Nope.

So I responded back "Well, I actually didn't say that but I am sorry if that is how it came across. Egwene is actually one of my favorite characters, but her arc doesn't really soar until after book 5. Which is why I said post book 5. I did say she did awful things when I really meant just the one thing though so I will be more clear in the future."

I thought that was just enough aikido to defend myself without necessarily being too aggressive back.

She just responded "thx" as if I wasn't being even the slightest bit snarky and that was the end of it. But seriously chica? Go to therapy ffs.

Everyone has such a tight grip on all of their perceptions, they crush and bend out of shape what they look upon, and in the end distort. Which makes me wonder about my own reality filter since I woke up from the nap earlier with literal visual distortion...

Speaking of therapy, I started my practicum this last week and saw my first client!!!! It feels so weird being on the other side of this dynamic. I have practiced enough with other counseling students and in practice dyads with acquaintances and the like. But to sit with a person that is actually seeking therapy for their own better good, and the sense of expectation and uncertainty is there and I just have to hold it for them. It is a strange sensation.

The practicum (internship, training) so far has been super supportive and scaffolding, but also a little like being tossed into the deep end of the pool to learn how to swim. They are right there to help, but its still a little terrifying scrambling to learn what I need to know on the fly. I know they won't let me drown, but my body fright is telling me something else. Everything in my life is a dichotomy right now, and learning to navigate the tension of the opposites.

This morning I woke from a dream where I was at a school and the students were all being separated and given an outfit that we were required to wear. We were divided into two different groups. Those that were vaccinated were given a taupe outfit and those that were not vaccinated were given a dark, muted-red color outfit. The cut of the outfits was similar to nursing scrubs.
Since I was vaccinated I was given the taupe, but I liked the look of the red wine outfit better and was disappointed. In spite of the color separation though, both groups were still allowed to mingle in the hallways together as if the color of our tunics somehow made an iota of a difference? I dunno, I would say it is the logic of dreams but honestly real life is just as illogical sometimes.

Seeing as I am a proponent of vaccination, wearing masks and generally trying to prevent the spread of the virus, it was weird being in a dream that made it all seem silly. The dream really felt like the counterargument against draconian measures to control the population while offering inconsequential or ineffective solutions. I think the real crux of the whole problem is that the people that believe in conspiracy theories and are opposed to the current best efforts to curb the virus wouldn't be out of line if the virus wasn't real. In other words, if I believed that the virus was fake, or not nearly as bad as it has been made out to be, I would agree with the arguments being made against the mask mandates and push to vaccinate.

I suppose if the dream was telling me anything, it may be to lean more into that understanding when talking to people about the issue. As it stands right now, I just wanna throw my hands into the air in frustration. But in the dream I felt like the whole thing was dumb, and even though I knew that the color divisions were ineffective, I didn't want to be separated from those in red. If anything I just wanted to wear my own clothes and walk about knowing we were all relatively safe and healthy.

Meh, maybe I'm also interpreting too much. Jungian and imaginal psychologists say to just stay with the dream and to circumnavigate the experience and the images. Mostly its just fragments now though. Maybe as I get better at remembering my dreams I will also get better at analyzing them from a depth perspective.

Anyway I have things to do yet today and the clock is ticking!

Current Mood: bouncy

A few weeks ago I was ruminating on the way in which innovative or progressive ideas can become distorted by well-meaning people that don't quite grok the nuance of the idea. One example that comes to mind is the movement to encourage parents not to spank/use corporal punishment on their children. (Disclaimer: I am not a parent nor an expert on this subject). But the conversation around this topic makes for a good example because the proponents of this idea can take the notion to extremes and not discipline their children at all, or do so in ineffective manners. Also, they might get super judgy of the parents that do spank their children. A result of this distortion is that the children of parents with ineffective or nonexistent means of disciplining their kids go out into the world with all sorts of expectations and sense of entitlement, or any number of other iterations of behavior that socially limits them.

As a result, those that are determined to spank/use corporal punishment (and the louder the proponent for this style of discipline the more I shiver at what happens behind their closed doors), will then hold up as an example for the state of society the undisciplined kiddos as why all the data collected on the matter by psychologists and all the hours upon hours therapists have spent unpacking the damage done to them by heavy handed disciplinarians is all garbage. Now the people that took the argument against spanking without learning more effective methods of parenting have become an unwitting tool of the opposition to the theory.

Weird example tbh but, pretty much you can pick almost any movement toward societal change and a similar dynamic will play itself out. Somebody out there or groups of people will come up with an idea that is nuanced and sophisticated, and the idea will pick up steam and be telephoned through the nervous systems of people that miss the fine details and distortions will enter into it. Those that oppose the change or new idea because it upends their own ideology or position of power will then point out the failure of the idea among those that applied it incorrectly as evidence against it. Repeat ad nauseum.

"I understand. In life, Project Mayhem members don't have a name. But in death, we do. His name is Robert Paulsen."
*All chanting in unison*
"His name is Robert Paulsen!"

If you remember that scene from Fight Club than you already know exactly what it looks like to be not only misunderstood by people that claim to grok an idea, but how the distortion can spread and get out of hand.

Generally speaking, the more extreme a position that someone takes, the more likely it is that they are going to bend a workable idea out of shape. Because extremism by its very nature tends to gravitate toward black and white thinking and misses the nuanced details within the gray area. I hate to kick a hornet's nest, but radical feminism balanced against evangelical christianity tend to start to look a lot alike if you hit the mute button and just watch their body language. (Don't @ me that was a metaphor not a real observation). The fact that I tend to agree with the points of the radical feminists more often than not doesn't mean there aren't also caveats that their most extreme points of view fail to notice or care about.

Narrow-mindedness always skims across the surface of understanding and jumps to the conclusion with the largest platform they can land on. A nuanced path is a bit more of a carefully calculated climb that requires a slower pace and usually leads to a plateau with a wider point of view.

Holy crap this reads like I know what I am doing and am smarter than everyone else. *facepalm* I'm not any of that and honestly I have made the same mistake of extremist thinking multiple times in my life. I probably will again. Cause it comes on whenever we are activated by complexes and shadow material most of all. And we all have those moments.

But I am just trying to note what I have observed in myself and others and warn against these distortions of really good ideas and how those that oppose them can manipulate the conversation around them to their benefit. It behooves us to make sure that we aren't distorting or misrepresenting ideas before we share them so that we do not become an unwitting tool in the arsenal of those that want to see us fail.

I had a dream about Rowan last night. She is in the process of moving in real life right now. But in the dream she sent me a bunch of photos and short videos via instagram messages that played out like a story or reels. In the photos, she was living with a bunch of artists and creatives, working on music, painting old furniture in fun primary colors, having chill parties and generally happy. Synden was there off and on and in an exaggeration of real life was the raven among the tropical birds that Rowan and her friends seemed. There was a blonde girl that was in many of the photos that may have been Rowan's primary roommate, and possibly her partner. But whether just friends or more, everyone looked extremely happy, and it all felt very "Love Street."

I think it is interesting though that instead of dreaming myself into this life that they are living, I was only witness to it from afar. Even the raven had a place among their flock, but was not a part of it. Yet in the dream Rowan shared the images and was excited for me to see everything that was happening. The feeling I got from the dream Rowan was that she was sharing them because she wanted to share her happiness and celebrate it with me, even if only through the vicariousness of social media.

I can't help but wonder if there is something to the compensatory theory in that I was imagining within the dream what I wish for myself, yet still feel unable to reach. After all I live with an artist but it is nothing like the vibe of the dream where the people in and around Rowan all inspired each other to create and actualize their best selves. For now though, that is my takeaway from the dream: that vibe is priceless, worth striving for, and should be cherished and nurtured wherever it is found.

Current Mood: curious
Current Music: Love Street

I woke up today thinking about distortions and how perfectly good ideas can be twisted by those that don't understand themselves well enough to know when they are missing the point, and then twisted again by the people that understand the point but disagree with it and hold up the distortion as evidence against it.

Vague? Yes. I don't have time to expand on it right this minute, but I will explore it with examples very soon.

Off to 2nd day of my practicum training right now.

I feel really good about this.

:)

Last weekend didn't work out so well for school stuff. But I was in really high demand for socializing somehow. I had a 4 and a half hour conversation with Zephyr on Friday, which is madness cause usually neither of us typically likes to be on the phone for very long. But it was cool talking to him even when we were on my psych BS and just catching up in general with all that is going on. He and Lynn are always making an effort to talk me into visiting which is always nice to hear even if I can't make it. Honestly, it is looking like I won't be able to travel anywhere for any length of time until after graduation. Hey Spring 2023! Help me get to you with my sanity intact!

I also had a coffee date with Rowan on Sunday which was really nice, sitting on a sidewalk patio and hanging out. I found myself disclosing way more personal information (run o'the mill childhood trauma team ftw) than I would have with most people. But she seemed really comfortable talking about stuff and she said she wanted to hang out again when I have time so I guess it wasn't too bad. No sooner had I got home and Donna called me out of the blue and we ended up talking for a few hours, mostly about the chaos going on in her world at the moment. But she wants to come out and do a hiking trip, which sounds awesome right now. If I can squeeze time in for it anyway. Then, a few hours later, Devyn called me and ended up staying on the phone with me for another 3 hours disclosing secrets and stories for context that I had no idea about. His secrets are his own, but I was blown away not only about the content, but that he opened up to me about it!

Somehow, connecting with friends both old and new, in conjunction with the personal introspection that my coursework has been inspiring, well Lestat began to feel something like himself again.

Tuesday morning I was looking at my phone shortly after waking up (as we are wont to do), and Synden had posted some cool pictures of an abandoned building out on the frontier that she was scoping out for some reason. I love old abandoned places in the middle of nowhere, especially during the day. In spite of popular wisdom, I think there is a particular haunted eeriness to such places in sunlight. So I wrote up a quick few lines of prose as a comment to her post:

"And thus all that remained was the outer frame of the dream, dilapidated by time and the elements. Only the wind swept horizon and wide eternal sky were unchanged."

Honestly, I wanted to write some kind of statement about the human condition, or the nature of reality, or some other brilliant thing, but honestly, it was before my first cup of coffee and that was the limit of my creativity at that moment.

When some people say "Cool story, bro" it doesn't always hold a lot of weight for me. But Synden is a savant creative that seems to be good at damn near everything she does, so when she said "Dude, that's awesome! You really are a great writer...got McCarthy or Faulkner vibes from that..." well, it felt nice? She isn't one to offer empty praise either and we agreed to share more of our writing with each other in the future.

All these positive social interactions feel like little sparks of light growing into embers that begin to get brighter and brighter. I feel awakened to myself in them somehow. I guess I don't actually exist in a vacuum after all. At the risk of embarrassing retractions later, I realize that this good mood and positive cheer along with it is a crest to other troughs to come. It is a Taoist principle that never fails. But remembering these pleasant moods and experiences may help navigate the darker days when they come, and maybe, just maybe, neuter them. Invert the frequency so that the bad times(tm) are shorter duration and less severe.

"Only the wind swept horizon and wide eternal sky were unchanged."

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Music: "Megalomaniac" KMFDM

Listen. Its not that I don't like journaling. Its just that I forget that it is a thing for long bouts of time between attempts to keep it going. And then suddenly I am reading an article and all these ideas start swarming around in my brain and I find I can't keep reading because all the noise in my head takes over.

So, one of the biggest stressors in my life has been the need to find an internship. I have been way behind on the process and feeling discouraged and a cycle of defeatist thoughts about it had even depressed my ability to work on my papers. Also, I was beginning to think that all my instructors hate me and that my papers were garbage and why am I even doing this blah blah blah...

Its funny cause I often think about how far I have come from that kind of negative self talk but then realize that I am only ever an apple's skin distance from it and all it takes is a slight setback to really bring it out again. The trouble I get myself into is that I am really great at imagining trajectories. I tend to look at the whole forest and can envision what its future might look like. I can look at a tree and see that the cluster of boulders nearby will alter its growth pattern as it gets bigger. This metaphor is really going off on a tangent, but the point is that I can and often do use that foresight to imagine catastrophes that I feel powerless to stop. Like, dude if you think the boulders are gonna mess up the tree's growth potential, than maybe move them? Trees don't grow that fast. You have time. This metaphor is really awful. But the other thing it doesn't take into account is the ambiguous nature of chaos. A lightning strike could split the boulder, or it could strike the tree and burn the whole forest down.

My lightning strike this last week came in the form of an instructor that was super rad and gave me a hell of a compliment on my counseling potential. I inquired with her as to some possible leads that I might seek out for a practicum internship and she gave me a list. The one at the top of the list was Depth oriented and as she put it "had a few really great supervisors" and a few somewhat OK ones. Of all the places I applied, that ended up being the only one that I got an interview for. Prepping for the interview I went onto their website to scope out some of the errata I didn't really take note of when I applied. Among the list of supervisors, sitting there with a cheeky grin and unabashed moxie is my instructor.

So I interviewed, was as awkward and weird as ever, fairly clear that I came across as a stiff robot half the time and a grinning simpleton the other. When they sent me an email the following day asking for clarification of my job history, it seemed pretty obvious that they were looking for further reasons to disqualify me. I sent them the requested information and started looking up places to try again, or maybe somewhere I could be committed because clearly I was mad to think this was going to work out. Then on Monday I got another email. I steeled myself for the inevitable rejection. I knew it was coming and just took a deep breath and opened it up. It took my brain a moment to process the words on the page.

Congratulations, we would like to offer you a traineeship at Counseling West!

*Insert shocked Pikachu*

Anyway, when I sat down to write this I was actually thinking about something else entirely. But now I am out of time and I have to run. I hope to see you soon, but my track record hasn't been great, so...

Peace!

I got my first covid shot today! As of right now it has been about ten hours and my arm feels like I got hit with a hammer, but not very hard; like a five year old with a ball hammer hit me while flailing wildly. So, normal reaction. I was going to write that I was also feeling a little tingly and third person too, but I think I was feeling that way yesterday before I got the shot so, I can't really blame it on the vaccine.
Whether or not is was the vaccine, I have been feeling clouded and a bit out of it all day. The reason why I can't be sure if it is a reaction to the vaccine is that I often feel out of sorts. My sleep schedule is still WackAsFuck(tm) and my diet is pretty awful too. I can't remember when the last time I did yoga regularly, and I have reached the coffee and cigarettes level of spiritual development. So, yeah if anything I'm feeling isn't just hyper alertness and an actual reaction, it is hard to say. But so far even those symptoms are pretty mild.

In the information sheet they gave me to read along with the consent form, one of the averse reactions that may occur within 15 minutes of receiving the vaccine is "a sense of impending doom." Bwahahaha! Like we would know the difference in 2021? Dude I have been feeling that for 20 years or more so..? I mean, what if I got the sudden sense that everything was gonna be alright? Should I be alarmed?

I think I am also feeling a little turned around by life. I have to start sending out feelers for a practicum site for school and no, I still haven't done it yet. One of my instructors that was very complimentary of my counseling skills gave me a list of possible sites to try though. But I haven't done it and I am not sure why really. It is a chore, sure, but I think I also keep hoping to wake up feeling like the fire of purpose and determination will ignite in my chest and drive me to action. To be sure, if it did I know that the energy would be powerful and connect with the universe to make the stars align in my favor. Whenever I have done anything with gusto and willpower, it has come to fruition with synchronicity and fortuity. But the truth is it is a slog and so far I haven't been able to drudge up the energy to climb the crumbling rock wall that the whole process feels like. Instead the stress of not doing it is just building like the sound of static crawling up my spine to live in my shoulders and neck.

Idiot. Oh fear not reader, I will do the thing and it will be fine. I am just explaining the internal processes as best as I can the way my folly manifests itself.

In other news, I talked to my brother out in Kentucky today. He is due for a surgery to attempt to bypass a rather difficult case of diverticulitis this coming week. He is usually the strong, intelligent, and brave (if not always wise) one of us but to hear him be even remotely vulnerable in expressing some of his fears about the operation was so unusual that I nearly broke down in tears for him. He said he wished he wasn't so far away because it would be nice to have family around at a time like this and my heart broke a little. From anyone else, it would have been a simple and understandable sentiment. But coming from him it may as well have been a plea for help. My mom did offer to fly out there to be with him, but he talked her out of it because it is too difficult a trip for her at her age and she has health problems enough on her own.

It was weird talking to him without the specter of our differences in political opinion hanging so dangerously over the conversation as is usually the case. He is a right-wing conservative and shares many of the beliefs and difficult opinions that come with that. And over the past few years as we have talked less and less, the divide between us has become palpable. Anyway, there is just so much I could write about that but it just feels like kicking someone while they are down. Ultimately we had a nice conversation and I hope knowing that my heart is with him right now will give him a little comfort.

Current Mood: sore

Holy crap I have never hated Michelle Pfeifer in any role more than this one. But also: damn her performance was intense. From a film making point of view, it was really well done, especially the framing and cinematography. Obviously the acting was great too and Alison Lohman, and Renee Zellweger were particularly nuanced. Anyway, all the technical stuff out of the way, my stomach was in knots especially through the first half of the movie. I was horrified at what was happening, but I also kept expecting it to get worse and though it did, it didn't go the way I feared, and wasn't half as awful as I had braced myself for.

The prevailing themes surround a teen that is forced into the foster care system after her mother is imprisoned for murder, and the traumas and psychological abuse she endures as she is moved from one place to another, all the while trying to reconcile her relationship to her mother and her own identity. I am happy to report that there was a kind of catharsis at the end and even some analytical psych imagery and art to wrap it all up. I have a lump in my throat even now almost an hour after watching but I don't think it will give me nightmares or anything else so I am grateful for that.

Now to formulate the experience into some sort of academic, clinical exposition.

Maze, the exposed nerve.

Current Mood: sad

I have to write a paper today for my Ethics and Law: Child Abuse class which is about as awful as it sounds. We have been given a selection of films that center around the topic and have to choose one to watch and write an assessment as if we were the attending clinician to the situation depicted. So before I subject myself to that trauma, I figured I would write out some of the swirly garbage living rent free in my mind.

I've decided to change therapists. As part of my program I am required to attend personal therapy which strangely enough (since I am going into the field) I have never done before. I have been with my current therapist since the Fall quarter and I have reached a point where I am certain we aren't a good fit for each other. I have already reached out to another therapist which strongly suggested I see my current therapist one more time (more or less as a termination session). I'm kind of irritated that my new therapist seemed somewhat insistent on it . Part of me feels like I'm throwing away $140 just to explain to dude that his yawning and looking at the clock all the time isn't conducive to therapy, nor is his habit of jumping to conclusions and foreclosing on topics before I feel like I have really processed them. And to add insult to injury, I know I am going to have to dance around the reasons why I am moving on so as not to discourage him or hurt his feelings because that is what I do. Always taking care of others at my own expense.

But it would be unethical of me to just ghost on him, right? I thought about just emailing him, but even that seems too impersonal. I just loathe having to explain anything to him and I am worried he may try to talk me out of moving on which I will not do. On the other hand, in spite of the money that he will lose with me gone, I think he may end up also being relieved. I don't think he is really all that interested in me as anything other than a weekly paycheck anyway. (See above inre yawning).

To be fair, I don't always feel like I have a great deal of content to bring to the room, and our sessions have been boring for me too on occasion. I also don't always know what to say, and I don't always have the words for what I do want to say. I have been self editing my words for so long that there is only a small dog-ear of space for thoughts about myself that I can share. Silent All These Years indeed. In spite of these difficulties, I have had more therapeutic sessions with fellow students in our practice dyads than I have with licensed dude, so yeah, it isn't just me.

In other news, my part time gig at the retail joint has been getting better and better, right up until they hired a new manager. They hired from outside the company (again) and though I can't speak to the reasons why they keep doing this, I'm certain they are going to end up with the same result. Our last manager was a pleasant (handshake and a backslap) sort of fellow that had no interest in learning the operations and mechanisms of the store. The place went to shit under his banner, and ended with him being fired after causing a covid outbreak in the store (I guess he thought he just had a cold?) during the holidays. Since he has been gone, with the help of managers on loan and a handful of toxic people departing, the store is actually looking and feeling like a pleasant place to shop and work.

But the new manager is (so far) even worse than the last one. Not only does he not seem to care about the operations and mechanisms involved in the store, he is also aloof and distant toward everyone there. He only seems to care about the money the store is making, but gives zero fucks about anyone that works there or our input as to why his proclamations are idiotic and ignorant of situational dynamics.

Thankfully I am only there three days a week now, and my investment in the place is minimal.

Speaking of investment, last year I spent a lot of time and money on D&D and was running my own campaign. But now I don't have time for it and I really miss it. <--Words I never thought I would find myself typing haha! I had friends that were into D&D years ago that I used to politely decline invites to join in their games. Part of it was the time commitment, but also my judgy ass thought it was lame. Now I think its awesome and I miss playing, I miss my group, and I miss DMing. Maybe I can put together a one-shot to run in between quarters?

Alright, off to watch White Oleander for my paper. If the topic has to be so heavy, I at least hope there is some sort of cathartic ending.

-Maze, the Judgy Judger that is Judging

Current Mood: pensive
Current Location: The Cat Cave

This morning I woke from dreams and was half awake assigning likely astrological signs to MCU characters. That mild amusement kept me occupied for a while as I slipped in and out of consciousness. Most of my dreams lately just seem to be shallow and insubstantial brain reruns of inane and silly meanderings.

I blame a lot of it on my proclivity of late to waste time on the most mindless of entertainments and distractions. And what am I distracting myself from exactly? Mostly the reading and writing I should be doing for school. Even though on a more sublime level I am interested in many of the topics that we are currently studying, somehow I feel like I do not have the energy for them. My monkey brain wants to leap away from branch to branch. I didn't have adhd when I was a kid but I swear to gawd I must have it as an adult now.

For example, right now I should be writing a paper for my geropsychology class. It is the easiest of the 4 papers that are all due by the 14th. I still have no idea what I am going to write about for the others and I am thinking about taking an incomplete on one of them just to give myself the buffer of an extra few weeks to work on it.

This has been a dream come true going to this school, so why does it feel like such a chore? There is hardly any other school in the world in better alignment with my temperament, and yet it feels like my temperament is reacting with a sort of avoidant contrariness to it all. The only coursework that I have been able to really delve into (even though I barely did all of the reading) has been the Processes of Psychotherapy classes where we have been practicing counseling techniques in dyads with other students and people outside of the program. I think I have latched onto that because it is activity based and somehow, interacting with another human in any meaningful way appeals to me more than academic exercises.

I also find that when I am focused in a dyad on someone else, it is one of the few times where my attention is not wandering and I am completely present with them. My last Processes instructor gave me a huge compliment at the end of our last class! She is one of those magical creatures that (though flawed in some obvious ways) somehow seems larger than life. Anyway, after watching one of my practice sessions, she said that I wasn't adopting the "persona" of a therapist. I was being a therapist. *beam*

Ok I really do need to get back to writing papers. I just happened to remember that I had this account and I haven't been journaling even though that is also prescribed by my program. So technically this wasn't wasting time, it was just working on a different kind of assignment. So suck it "sef-judgy feeling that I am always not doing what I am supposed to be doing."

Until next time I decide to write in here instead of working on something else I should be doing instead....

Edit: I just noticed that in this very journal I have written about having this difficulty around studying before, and even described it in similar terms. I used to be an awesome student when I was younger and honestly is it just a lack of patience or actual adhd? Ok I'm leaving for real now.

Current Mood: anxious
Current Location: The Cat Cave
Current Music: Whitney Tai "The Cure"

Shallow measured breath and tousled hair

Delicate lashes resting upon skin fair

She slightly expands and slightly falls

Dreaming of a world without walls

Soft and luscious, barely parted lips

Blanket draped curves from shoulders to hips

Her peaceful sounds of sleep solace my soul

Through fields of magic and dream we stroll

Visions from the matrix linger before my eyes

So many selves are we behind this disguise

In alchemy our blood transformed into fire

Infinite hearts echoing in resonant desire

A memory seared into a collective heart

We walk the world together, forever apart

Her touch is the seasons, her smile is death

Outside the tapestry of time, we share the same breath.

mazecrafted2014©

Current Mood: nostalgic
Current Music: "Gutter Glitter" by Switchblace Symphony

Al Jourgensen has a thing against comps. I suppose that is his prerogative but at a show that is already sold out, barring a few freebies seems like a real dick move. My roommate John and I were pretty much all dressed up and nowhere to go when the news came down from the door crew that they couldn't comp us a half hour before the Ministry/Chelsea Wolf show was set to begin at the Anaheim House of Blues. We would have bought tickets but the promo guy swore he could get us in right up until it sold out. Then his confidence began to waiver, and then crumbled into certainly not. Oh well. I'm thinking about buying my tickets to the Covenant show in advance just in case something similar should happen again. That show is at Das Bunker, which means our inside has a better chance of coming through since he and my roommate are long time associates with the owners. But I'd rather cough up the cash and be certain, besides I don't mind supporting the venues and artists that make these shows possible.

Anyway, Donna and co. never made it up to visit last week. Drama and bad luck crashed down on them and they unfortunately had to cancel their trip. I'm hoping things turn around for them and maybe I can have them out to visit sometime this summer. In the meantime I'm buying my tickets to Seattle sometime between now and Monday for a quick 4-5 day trip to hang out with my peeps up there in April. I suspect when I get back it will be go-time at the new job. I dunno though. I am having second thoughts about accepting the promotion. I haven't gotten much training for the position yet, or practice working with the little training they have given me. The new location is going to be a pretty big deal with lots of big wigs swinging in and a lot of attention from corporate. I'm worried that I am inadvertently being set up to fail by the lack of time they have set aside to prepare me. I am going to talk to my manager about it tomorrow, express my concerns, and see if there is anything I can do to expedite my training. If not, I may have to withdraw my name from the hat.

My circadian rhythm is absolutely fucked right now. The last few days I actually slept until noon, and have been staying up way too late. Its only a problem because I have things that need to get done and when I start my new position, I will be working early mornings into the afternoon which is about the time I am usually in my deepest sleep right now. Definitely need to start changing it up asap.

My writing projects are staring at me from the corner of the room. The hurt look of neglect has begun to take a hard edge of anger lately. I am quite certain that if I don't do something about it soon, violence will ensue. Yup, that is definitely rage in their eyes. When I begin to work with them again it is almost guaranteed to be full of chaos, fury and punishment. Maybe after my midterm next week. Oh god I think they are growling now. I better go...

My solitude has been disrupted! I repeat my solitude has been disrupted!

I have to admit, being in isolation for long periods of time starts to make one a fucking wierdo. And for me, already being a wierdo, the result is probably magnified exponentially. But my new roommate might actually not improve matters all that much. Cause he's a strange motherfucker. But I've known him for nearly 25 years. Holy shit all the people from my ancient life are resurfacing. But John was always a wierdo. He was the blonde long haired metal-goth kid in high school walking around in a beret, a Marilyn Manson shirt (when smells like children first came out), with a kilt, and knee high moccasins.

He hasn't changed much.

Anyway, when he isn't working on commissioned murals in Hollywood or Santa Monica, he is out promoting for various clubs, raves, concerts, parties, and art shows. You can often find him at said events live painting, or helping set up art shows. He is in the process of building a large artist retreat/compound out in Joshua Tree. It will have a sound studio, a stage for live shows and events, spaces for art creation, and just about any number of other spaces that could be adapted to the needs and desires of artists and creators of all kinds. The problem is that when he is in the LA area, he has been sleeping in his old beat up SUV.

No friend of mine will be homeless if there is anything I can do about it. I sacrificed my sanctuary, but John has always had a positive influence on me so long as I don't get too caught up in his chaos. His feet haven't touched the ground in 20 years and he lives completely at the mercy of his id, allowing his body to drift along his stream of consciousness. I ground him a little bit and he shakes me out of my stupor. Good people.

In other news, I started a new class this week on Educational Psychology and so far I am way more into it than my last class. Hopefully the slump from last term was just a passing miasma. On the work front I interviewed with the manager of the new store opening in Burbank and we seemed to hit it off pretty well. It was less an interview and more of a "meet and greet." But they aren't going to officially disclose whether or not the interviewees are hired until week after next. But based on the conversation and feedback from my current manager, it seems likely I will get the promotion and a position at the new location when it opens. If I am going to make a trip up to Washington I will definitely have to do it before the store opens mid to late April. Other than that, Donna and her daughter are presumably still coming later this week for a few days, but they have been radio silence on the plans so... *twiddles thumbs*

Anyway, sleep deprivation (fuck you insomnia and daylight savings time) are catching up with me.

Ciao for now.

Current Mood: restless
Current Music: The Days of Swine and Roses

Yup. Still not mustering up the motivation to focus on my studies this week. Every time I start to read my text book I find my attention wandering to the stains in the carpet that no amount of steam cleaning will ever get out, or whether I ought to revise my short story or just trash all my notes and start from scratch, or if I should trim my nails, or go for a walk. God I hope the next term is more interesting. The next class starts next week with no break in between this one and the next, so wish me luck?

I'm distracted in general. And specifically, I'm literally obsessed right now with Life Is Strange, which at face value seems absurd to say out loud. But there has been a trend in my life for several years now toward vulnerability and emotional authenticity. And this game...This. Game! nonchalantly meanders into the most tender of visceral spaces, inspiring empathy, resurrecting long lost feelings of love, and then proceeds to leave you an ugly crying wreck. I actually played the prequel before the core game, which I highly recommend to anyone that wants to experience having their guts ripped out by a low budget cartoon/video game. I kind of want to play the whole series all over again because I miss the characters already. Also, I love the way they immerse you in the mundane everyday world, and then insert surrealism, symbolism, and the supernatural in a gradual manner until suddenly you find yourself in a world where you begin to miss the normality that once was. If I can ever execute a story with as much of an impact as they have then I will consider myself successful. Ok enough of that or I'll just go on and on.

I have tentative plans to go back to WA next month to hang out with Zephyr but the timing is going to be a bit tricky. In addition to my studies, (which are online and can be done on the go so long as I can get a few hours here and there), I also am being trained at work for a position with more responsibility and am supposed to interview for a transfer to a new store opening in Burbank in April. So I'll have to time my trip around those things. Plus my friend Donna (from AZ) and her daughter are going to be in town mid-March for a choir competition and they are going to stay with me while they are here. I haven't seen them in person in 10 years (holy shit!!!) but I will see them briefly this weekend as they are coming out to San Diego to see Devyn graduate from the Marine Corp boot camp. I decided to go out there and meet up with them and Deon mostly cause we haven't all been together like this in so long. It will be a nice reunion. But tbh, I'm not too excited about the graduation ceremony and I'm a little nervous about how the boot camp will have affected Devyn. In some ways I can imagine good things it might have done for him. But we can all imagine the bad as well.

I talked to Deon for a bit on the phone tonight and he and Angie are already in the Riverside area with her family. We are meeting up tomorrow out here at the LA Arboretum and then we're gonna hit the Norton Simon Art Museum. Good thing I bought a membership there! ;) This is the second time I am going there this month. What? No it wasn't my idea...why would you think such a thing? While talking to Deon on the phone he was telling me his dog chewed up the soft-top windows on his jeep, which is going to suck when they have to drive home next weekend especially since it is likely going to be snowing in NorCal/Oregon. Lucky for them, when I bought the soft top for my jeep it came with the front door windows that I don't need since my model jeep has actual glass. I've had them in storage for almost 2 years and had forgotten that I was going to sell them on craigslist or ebay or something. Man am I glad I still have them! Now I can give them to him tomorrow. Filed under: funny how shit works out.

Anyway I ought to try and sleep so I am not a total zombie tomorrow.

Current Mood: excited

Out of the gate, I've tried to get on a good footing with the Year of the Dog. According to the lunar astrologers, dragons and dogs are not simpatico. So in the off chance there is anything to this I figure I better keep a healthy supply of Scooby snacks in my pocket and tummy rubs at the ready. Mostly, this year I would like to focus my efforts on quality over quantity. No other place is this more necessary than in my social media activities, especially on FB. Literally every time I have logged in over the last week I have found myself scrolling through with complete and utter disappointment in the level of bullshit clogging up my feed. Even the stuff that I used to care about is utterly failing to connect, resonate with, or inspire me in any way.

So I am probably going to be spending less time in the echo chambers and hopefully, I will be posting more of the kinds of content I would like to see instead of scrolling dejectedly looking for someone else to have already done it. Quality over quantity. This is really less an indictment or judgement of what other people choose to post and more about taking responsibility for being the change I want to see. I still believe in allowing others to like what they like, live and let live, etc. But the reality is that the redundancy and social media clichés have all become a bit much.

In other news, I am feeling uncertain about the trajectory I have previously set myself upon. I am still interested in psychology, but the path of the purely empirically derived perspectives that I thought would be a more safe bet for my career are also feeling more and more completely devoid of any of the meaningful insights and depth that first drew me to the field. Ultimately, I think that the scientific validation is important, but I also feel like there is a lot being lost by the hard set inorganic methodologies it incorporates. Statistical analysis is so reductive that it is like looking at infinity through a pinhole. Meh.

Finally, my anti-social tendencies have been getting challenged lately. My coworker Marisa has been pulling me out of the house for short visits that have actually been really rewarding. She is an interesting cat. I think so far we get along because we are both weird as fuck, and possibly drawn to things that are strikingly unusual. In some ways, she is tragically edgelord, raised a pagan and interested in satanism (I suspect largely influenced by her love of horror films and satanic metal). But that aside, she is also extremely perceptive and intriguing to talk to about everything from film, consciousness, and the implications of psychedelics. She told me before we started really hanging out that she takes in a lot of information and creates her own meaning from it. I definitely feel like she takes in a lot when we are talking, but I am curious where she takes it in her mind.

So that is the shape of the labyrinth at the moment. I'm feeling a lot more centered in myself, with the urge to create and do more meaningful things this year. I'm hoping that if I can be honorable and loyal to myself and others, the usual conflict between the dragon and dog will be assuaged. Wish me luck!

Current Mood: hopeful

Commentary: Its amazing how much can change with a simple shift in perspective. The mindscape can be such a treacherous place when one gets stuck in a point of view, especially one that is bleak and hopeless. I've found myself rejecting a lot of ideas that for too long have informed my sense of self. There is an internal rebellion raging against limitations I've accepted from other people on who or what I am allowed to be. I have been so long under the thumb of this self abuse that I never even realized what I was doing to myself, what I was allowing others who are long gone to do to me. But this broken and twisted thing has awakened and is moving toward healing. The only way out is through:

I'm dragging myself with skeletal hands loosely wrapped in bloody sinew across cracked parched ground with the taste of ashes in my mouth. My tongue is a swarm of bees. My eyes are stones wedged carelessly into the fissures of a face weathered by wind and fire.

Carrion raptors follow a stitched ocher path, dropping down to relieve me of the burden that I carry, strip by gory strip. Colorless gauzy rags drift away from my bones in a puff of dust every other scrape. The sound of my shuffling has been my voice, my words no more than a raspy exhalation of breath.

Mine hasn't been the silence of peaceful solitude, nor the careful quiet of a mother laying her child to rest. My silence has been a face wrapped in plastic, fingers on my neck squeezing mercilessly, crushing my throat. My silence was a song of truth stifled, suffocated, and turned to rage.

A silence now broken by a foreboding rumble of thunder building to a crescendo, scattering vultures and shaking the ground. Fat drops of rain stain the dust in shifting momentary patterns, constellations, a language of chaos. Ionic particles sting as they bond to my twisted broken frame.

All the desolation and despair is churned to mud beneath me pulling me into a cocoon of darkness a millennium deep. The promise of verdant fields and a breeze touched with jasmine, cooled by snow capped peaks from which flow burbling streams await me above.

I'm crawling back from the precipice of an insidious death disguised as life. No death is truly an end, but this one stretched a moment of emptiness to the brink of despair, and lingered there in air bleached of vitality and purpose.

A sapling sprouts from the dark night of the soul.

Current Mood: determined

We all have multiple biographies. There is the one we talk about with family and some friends, even strangers to a degree. It is made up of dates and names, places and events. It is the high school textbook version of our lives. It is mostly factual, but also prone to errors and revisions that distort the narrative it creates, and even when it is accurate, it is cursory and incomplete. I was born in some city, went to some school, (or in my case several schools), lived in this town or that state, worked such and such job, etc. There is another biography we rarely, if ever, discuss. It is the one that maybe lacks a chronology, or a frame of reference in the other biography, but somehow is more true. It is made up of dreams, deja vu, sober and chemically induced hallucinations, shifts in the mindscape that limits or allows what we are capable of perceiving and experiencing at any given time.

Some people have awesome textbook biographies and they strongly identify with them. Because of this they tend to ignore the rare biography, the one that I like to call the sorcerer's biography. My textbook biography has not been awesome so I tend to focus on the latter. In some places there is overlap, places where one couldn't have happened without the other. It really is just a way of framing the story. I lived in haunted houses growing up, and we thought more than once we were being followed. I had dreams even then, of strange places I had never been (yet) that was idyllic and wonderful if sometimes also terrifying. The reality I lived in growing up was already separate and different from the one that others seemed to be living in. I remember when my social brain first began to take hold of my consciousness. Back when I still walked on the tips of my toes and echoed words. Spontaneous expression would be repeated as if neurolinguistic programming were terraforming the open awareness of my child brain with internal dialogue for the first time. I'm still not sure this wasn't a curse, a socially transmitted disease. (More about that in my unpublished novel, coming to a bookstore near you if you live in the 2080's, probably).

There are places where dreams were more real than any moment I've ever lived, within the confines of the textbook biography. Dreams of such vitality and substance that the waking world seemed pale and shallow by comparison. And there are times when I thought I must be dreaming like when I was driving and my windshield spider web shattered causing my girlfriend at the time to scream and me to flinch and white knuckle the steering wheel, only to have it return to normal a few seconds later. In retrospect, we never decided if the windshield actually seemed to shatter, or was struck by lightning, or was hit with a blast of sand, or water. Whatever it was, it was loud, obscured the windshield for a matter of seconds and then was gone. Since it didn't actually cause any lasting damage to the vehicle, we must have decided to ignore it to prevent any lasting damage to our psyches. We pretty much made similar choices about the half deer-men that ran across the road more than once just outside the reach of the headlights. Or apparitions witnessed by multiple people walking along the side of the road that stared back with haunting expressions. Man I miss driving at night.

I’ve had dreams of training my Will power to overcome attacking serpents, turning a dangerous viper into a staff of power. Dreams of becoming, and battling ancient gods, having them sit on the edge of the tree line off my balcony speaking telepathically in speech beyond my ability to comprehend, the translation distilled down to simplistic phrases that are keys to entire worlds, like DNA, encoded and mysterious, barely tangible on the periphery of physical matter, and yet, create entire systems of life. There are the fragrances out of nowhere that have no logical origin and transport my consciousness into a reverie out of time and space; into memories I can't fit into the chronology of my textbook biography. Disembodied voices that call out to me when my consciousness is slipping into the twilight of dreams. Bright white spheres of light wreathed in darkness like holes punched through the fabric of reality that radiate in the periphery of vision; or a light on the horizon in the middle of the night like a premature dawn that ebbs and flows with my breath. Strangers with faces and personalities so familiar I am certain I've known them my entire life, though I know we have never met. The eyes of people I've known that have in a moment, activated an astral freak out of oscillation in the space between us. (Ok that one deserves an explanation. I had just met her a few weeks prior, and we were saying goodbye though neither of us wanted to, and as I turned to look one more time, our eyes locked and though my body didn't move I felt myself move back and forth across the room like a quantum yo-yo. Even she reacted with a well-deserved "what the fuck was that?" I said I didn't know and ran away). Similar experiences since have made me all but avoid anyone that evokes it. For now.

There are events that are part of my sorcerer’s biography simply because they are moments of profound beauty and awe, or incredible fortune. Watching the waves on the beach at night glow with an eerie blue-green light from bioluminescent algae, so prevalent even on the beach that the sand seemed to sparkle between my fingers. Or a decade later watching a faint shimmering aurora shift from green to red and back again. The rising and setting of the sun and moon, over mountains and down the Pacific Ocean. One sunrise in particular on the Utah desert driving back from Wyoming when the sky looked like a fire burning the night down to embers. Staring into the eyes of hawks, eagles, deer and owls up close and intimate. Standing on the precipice of a mountain with the clouds spread to the horizon beneath my perch. Walking through the fog at night with the streetlights casting cones of light broken by the shadows of slowly swaying pines dripping with the condensation.

These are just a few of the many experiences that make up the biography that matter. And though they are unique to me, everyone has a sorcerer’s biography that is also unique to them and if not more important than their textbook biography, certainly still relevant to who they are. So what would be in your sorcerer’s biography? Take some time to really think about it, write them down. I call it the sorcerer’s biography but you can name yours whatever you like. Write them down, tell them to a loved one, pay attention to them. And maybe this year will give us more to add to the sorcerer’s biography no matter how the textbook version goes.

Peace!

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mazecraft13

December 2021

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Kaleidoscopic Meanderings

aka word salad

Recent Entries

A Reprieve

Toxic Positivity and Empowerment

Naps are chaos incarnate, I am not a punching bag

The Counterargument Dream

Distortions 2.0

The Love Street Dream

Distortions 1.0

Social Butterfly

Narcissism Free Self Reflection?

Poked

White Oleander: Update

Pro Cras Tin Ate Ing

Hi I suck at journaling!

Infinite Hearts

A near miss

Sound the alarm!

Life is...continuing

The beginning of the Dog Update

A Sapling Sprouts

A Quantum Yo-Yo