collective waste-Every Time (cum2church)

San Francisco Pride 2010 { the documentary } from Ancient Astronaut on Vimeo.

This is a documentary that was filmed when I was in San Fransisco with some of my closest friends, and I helped out with this film. Sara Landas did a wonderful job in putting this whole thing together and you can visit her website at: http://www.saralandas.com/

Revelations, Robotic sanity - revolt

It felt like I was dying. But the feeling wasn’t something new. It’s something I’ve felt for as far back as I can remember but I’ve just grown used to it. And in those moments when I can’t breath and I feel life being pulled out of every atom that is mine, I start to analyze. And that’s the worst part, the analyzing. Because then it’s as if I’m narrating my own life, as if my life has already happened and I have already been defeated because there’s never anything that helps me. There’s never anything that makes me smile and stays. It all leaves just as quickly as it comes in and I’m left here a simple void, an empty shadow that is only seen once in a while. In your understanding you can breathe again. You can continue to function as a robot, a slave to a system you had no choice or knowledge of placement, you were just expected to function. An over worked blind machine begging for an apocalypse for maybe then they’ll find peace. But no one ever does anything about the ones who try shot down by their brethren. The idea of revolution is dead and in its place: robots. If there’s a beating human heart out there who knows otherwise then where are you? For I see before me an army just no one to lead them, no cause to persuade their heart, no truth in a world of deception. Tell me where to go, or what to do to be free and I’ll do it. Anything is better than nothing at all.

Festering Wounds

The infections worsened and seemed to take on a life of their own. It was as if I had two separate growths festering under my skin and they found each other and together formed the mother of all things unbearable. Well since these foreign invaders that have burrowed themselves in my life seem to have taken a form and are intent on running things I figured I should probably name them even though I would undoubtedly have to cut them off later and soak them in pesticides. None the less I must name them. Only a woman could be this evil so I'll call you Jezebels I said to the festering puss.

I really liked Jezebels in facts I wanted to keep hers but she kept infecting everyone else with their poison. I tried antibiotics hoping the reduced swelling would reveal something beautiful but it only revealed her ugliest side.... The truth. The truth that I knew all along but refused to accept that beyond the facade of love there was just an endless vacuum sucking the life out of everything and everyone. so I cut it off. It slithered away like a dead baby i didn't have the heart to finish hers off. so I decided to save the pesticide to kill her on another day, perhaps to keep it safe for the inevitable war ahead.

December 1 is World AIDS Day, I stumbled upon this site through a friend, and felt compelled to share a story/memory about someone very special who changed my life.

When I was in Rehab and at my absolute end I had no-one. My family had made it very clear that they wanted nothing to do with me because of my sexuality, my depression and drug use had gotten out of control, and I was going to die, either by an overdose or suicide (after all there had already been so many close calls my luck it seemed would soon run out). On the day that i arrived I was greeted by a woman whose name was Robin. She was in her 40's, and seeing how much younger i was than everyone else took me under her wing, because she knew how twisted some people could sometimes become (being locked inside a house for months on end and coming off of some serious drugs will do that to a person). She helped me in so many ways. She taught me how to forgive, how to love, and most importantly how to find hope in my darkest hours. If it hadn't been for Robin I would have never stopped using and most likely would be buried 6 feet under ground. There were so many times my bags were packed and I was ready to run or my heart was breaking and I just wanted to die, but she was always there, waiting for me by the door with her loving words and healing embrace. Robin was a woman who'd been abused, raped, became a prostitute, a heroin addict, and was then fighting AIDS, she had no one. Her Family had abandoned her and society had disgraced casting her aside to suffer alone, she went through things none of us could ever imagine, even in our darkest most horrific thoughts, but she had more love to give than anyone I've ever met.

After I left the program I frequently would stop by to visit, and catch a meeting. one of those times about two Years ago I stopped by to bring Robin some flowers and a pack of Marlboro Reds (her favorite). Upon walking through the door the attendants informed me she had lost her battle with AIDS. It's hard to even write this with out a few tears, but somewhere out there I know that I have an angel watching over me, and her name is Robin.

LoVe

Love is in your heart no matter how dark you feel
Love is in the streets no matter how dirty they've become
Love is in you eyes no matter how many tears you've cried
Love is in the air no matter how polluted it will be
So put a smile on you face
Forget about the troubles in this place
and love the one your next to
Love is on your blood no matter the color of your skin
Love is in your faith no matter what you call your god
Love is for him and her, her and her, and him and him
Love has no boundaries or borders and is wherever you let it in
so put a smile on your face
Forget about the troubles in this place
and love the one your next to

Love will save you
Love will make you
Love will change you
Love will help you be you

"He is dead." they told me as I walked up the steep stairs that lead to his tower. I was not surprised, just disappointed in the way things had turned out that day. You see I would have been there 20 minutes before he died, if the woman in the wheel chair hadn't attacked me. Yes, a woman in a wheelchair attacked me. I was coming out of the floral shop with some daffodils, his favorite, when out of no-where a flash of steel and wheels collided with my lower half. Knocked senseless the blur soon cleared only seconds before i realized this obese wench on wheels was beating me with her candy striped cane. Her eyes were hollow offering me a clear view of her brain, which was totally friend, it looked like a dehydrated turtle. I quickly got over the shock and reached for the mace in front pocket, mace won't do shit, the bitch doesn't have any eyes... I thought so I opted for the taser hidden in my boot. 50,000 volts of holy electricity went pulsing through that atrocity on a chair. When the deed was done I pulled my self up being sure not to touch the still smoking demonic corpse still hacking through the charred flesh melting off her bones. I gathered the fallen daffodils and started running for knew that I was running out of time.
I still would have made it 5 minutes before he died, that is to say if I hadn't fallen into the lair of the cyclops. Yes a cyclops, he was no giant or supernatural creature, simply a large hairy man with only one eye. I was running so fast I ran right into him. Unfortunately for me he was allergic to daffodils and it wasn't the fact that I ran straight into him that was bothersome it was the fact that daffodil pollen now inhabited his nasal passage and he fell into a rage of sneezing and wheezing. Not your average allergy attack mind you his sneezes were blowing roofs off of houses, trees were uprooted from the ground, and i believe i saw a cow fly forty feet into the air and sored brutally into a windmill. Well I couldn't let this proceed. I was unable to fight my way passed the sporadic wind gusts, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my bow and arrow. I aimed it steadily, pulled back, and released my message of peacefulness directly into the cyclops one remaining eye. The storm was instantly over. I grabbed the one remaining unspoiled flower and ran like my life depended on it.
"He's Dead." they told me when I arrived. I walked passed them into his room and lay the daffodil on his chest, kissed his brow, and exited.
And This is how it always is, and always will be. I thought and continued on my way to the florist shop for her favorite flowers are roses and if I hurry I can make it at least 30 minutes before her passing.