Poetry and prose from the heart. Self-help life truths.

The Everlasting.

“What you are, and who you are should provide greater clarity about where you have been and where you are headed.  Although one distinguishes spiritual from physical nature, the ultimate unification of the two is the consequence of the struggle for internal, external and eternal peace, true love, truth.”  ~ T.F. Hodge; writer, blogger, commentator, graphic design consultant, virtual assistant and author.

Awakening, illumination, deep understanding, is a wonderful and mysterious process; it can happen in a flash, in a minute, and in the most simple things.  And this is because this process of divinity does not come with the desire of our minds, of our egos, but this divine process emerges via Infinite Intelligence through the patience and non-resistance to the flow of life from our conscious minds, from our egos.

We must be receptive and open, very patient without expecting and obsessing; patience is divine and has the power to elevate our minds and light our hearts in perfect unity, in perfect harmony.
This will really open a new world unto us.

A New World

Stress, anger, jealousy, all darkness,
My form, my thoughts, were heartless;
My passions were unclean and weak,
My actions were selfish, ill, not meek.

Arguing, fighting, and protecting my belief
Poisoned my whole mind in time brief,
Rebelling, resisting, cursing people
Built in me hatred which made me feeble.

My old world was definitely upside down,
My energy was infecting the whole town;
My vision and understanding was not wise,
I was buried in pride and all destructive vice.

One day it felt in me like a exploding Sun!
I became so relaxed, for with nature I was One!
I cannot describe to you the beauty in the fish,
A New World of compassion became my wish.

This is extremely bizarre in its simplicity and I know,
But my new world of beauty did not have a foe;
Swimming with nature was a love expression,
My mind and heart united suddenly in connection.



The Rose of Love

The Rose of Love I gave without hesitation,
You and I, different time, different nation.
Pockets of ether scared me at first as I did travel,
Mysterious energy around me I wanted to unravel.

It all was to meet you and pledge my love sincere,
From the letter and the story of your life most dear,
A jump through time for love has no deterrence,
In my memories I found our emotional transference.

The Rose of Love held steady and firm to greet
That beautiful goddess beyond time Oh so sweet;
There was no moment in time more precious,
God was upon our meeting most gracious.

I held you, became aware of our merging souls,
One godly existence beyond all romantic goals;
Now I know true love does not surrender to time,
Space or form, because love is the eternal prime.

Screenshot-2017-9-12 Skeleton-In-Love GIFs - Find Share on GIPHY(1)

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Poetry and prose from the heart. Stories to ponder.

Colors in the wind…

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”  ~ Lao Tzu; ancient sage, philosopher, and historian.

 Colors in the wind

There is great wisdom in the wind,
Blowing here and there in spring;
Images and messages come to my mind,
Beyond words and voices, more than those two combined.
I remember the past people of mock and laughter,
They said there would not be love for me trial after.
But now I see colors as miracles which communicate
Peace and freedom, the warmth in the healthy fate.
Even the leaf on the tree blesses me,
The flower and the grass, the butterfly and the bee.
My step is of noble and forward move,
My heart is my guide following the groove.
Of the colors I sense in the wind which fill all,
The groove is your energy which does not let me fall.
I cannot see your form but I delight in your love essence
Which shines and warms my very presence,
And that is all I truly need to feel bliss,
My eyes are not blind to love such as this.



The Conscious Ether (Between death and the next life)

Was I ever born…?? Was I ever dead…??
The faces always seemed so mysterious,
So unnatural to me, memories like poison spread.
I was lost and then found,
I was me and then you, I was confused;
My world was upside-down, the color, the sound.

The fear was gone, the bliss had disappeared,
But the colors, they remained enhanced,
The sound was beautiful, the vision had cleared.
My body was and wasn’t, but there was an essence…
Yes, an essence of peace and freedom I felt clearly,
A warm embrace, a conscious ether, a known presence.

Then it came to me, my forgotten past perhaps,
Or my forgotten Now. Who knows?
It called on my existence, energy links, summons, taps…
It was my aura the one spreading into all vision,
And then I visited other lands but never traveled,
For I was expanded in my conscious condition.

The darkness came and I saw another light,
Far into the distance I saw you,
Then you floated to me, an angel so bright;
The moment grew into sensations I couldn’t comprehend,
We were two but then one, I was confused again,
More than an angel, a goddess, a godsend…

MJ quote Tree of Light - pls join Major Love Prayer every 25th

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Poetry and prose from the heart.

The Holder of Magic.

The flamer.”
It was a time of obscurity and ill rebellion,
Garbage on the streets, protests, great tension;
This meant cold hearts, violence, no mutual care,
Great insecurity and fear left a dark spirit bare,
People shouted and amongst themselves fought,
The city was under siege and in fog wrought.
But there was one which came from another place,
He had carried courage and might all his days;
He had been born in a different age and town,
He was a being of truth, strength, love bound.
Arrived he to impress and conquer immorality,
With a mighty flame to do away with brutality.
A girl in the crowd contemplated his flame;
He emanated a greater purpose and fame.
The streets were safe and the strife was ended
Due to this man of the flame and spirit splendid;
Now they loved him, there were no cold hearts,
The girl was fascinated, under cupid’s darts.
He saw her amongst the crowd with a smile,
Then lit up, went to her with no guile;
So they found each other, profound connection,
Two souls merging with great affection.



The Reaper in the trunk!

The night is really dark and bitter cold,
The candy sour and the movie old,
The car is a beauty from the eighties,
I am Richard on a date with Mercedes.
Can’t believe I’m watching this drag
Right after landing with this jet lag,
She fell asleep, there is no one around,
No other viewers, now rain is coming down;
No car roof, I should’ve brought a raincoat.
Damn this weather, the tickets I bought!
Thought this would be for us a fun time!
My girl, candy, the tickets only cost a dime.
I will go take a look in the trunk for a jacket,
Even though fog is here and the wind is a racket.
CCRR!  CCRR!  Jeez, the noise, is someone in the back?!
Christ!!– I just saw the Reaper in the Trunk!



The Holder of Magic

There was a time long ago in another dimension,
Of different time and space that to the human mind brings tension;
This entity had no face and body of the physical kind,
For there were no superficial identities, names, and relationship bind,
It was a He and a She, pure energy, excellent evolution,
Emotional Intelligence, high senses, love essence fusion.
In his dimension there existed no wars, religions, politics, and classes,
For there were no violent beliefs, greed, revenge, and mediocre masses;
Hence, it might be a Heaven for the human sort,
Because consciousness was free there, there was no physical foe to thwart.
This entity had a quest, his nature, his very purpose of existence;
He was after knowledge, deeper love, beauty, he was all persistence,
He experienced the magic flowing everywhere, its smell, its taste, its radiance,
One with his universe, no separation, in his vast mind there was no variance.
But there existed an issue, the challenge which made life worth living;
Paralyzing fear, dark magic, negative mind-fogs, hidden forces unforgiving.
So he went into meditation, contemplated the obscurity, looked for the light;
But there was struggle, the soul was dark, misery, pain, a fright.
Woah!— Then the Holder of Magic came into being out of thin air!
A deity, a healer, a magician so powerful he was everywhere!
This deity like sound from the universe of light took care of the entity,
For the deity was absolute peace, powerful love, true conscious identity.
From then on thanks to the deity there remained dark bits here and there,
But no true malignant energy, no paralyzing fear, now it was fair.
It lies in the powerful spirit of The Holder of Magic, not in the mind,
For thinking too much about opinions makes it to reality be blind.
The deity finds his might in that which the eye cannot see,
In the subconscious flow, Infinite Intelligence, in the real me.



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Stories to ponder.

Moving things…

Territory of England, year 1349.  In some godforsaken open field, mud-filthy, where darkness is everywhere.  An unknown hero lies bruised and beaten almost to a mere pulp…


But I did it!  Did I…??…  Yes, I am most certainly sure of it.  In the middle of it, or the end of it.  I dunno, it’s all a blur… or most of it is.  But I was there, and my hands, they were on fire.  I thought that my whole bloody arm was about to burst into the same essence of hellfire itself.  My other arm was rather fine, until it happened.  But my head, it was spinning, rushing like a million demons, and it was burning.  Although not burning like my hands, but it was–it was cold, too cold…??

I cannot even feel it now.  Bathed in blood and guts, can’t feel pain and I don’t know if I am dead or alive, covered in clouds of darkness.  But what really happened…??  Is it within me..??  Some kind of transmutation, as someone surely calls it…??  Energy, isn’t it?  …Well, isn’t it?!…  Magic..??  Boldly the demon vitality rules the outside lands of Wessex, it causes terror on many, but it is good to many more.  At the service of my most noble Lord King, I know this…  The mud is cold now, like my head was…  But I cannot rid myself of these torturous images, it is like some insanity taking over.  See, I moved things.  Men were flying across the polluted air…


Hours earlier, amidst the blood showers and wretched screams of death, the unknown hero wields his sword with beastly mastery…


Chink!–  I guess I am fighting my enemies with no thought; because thinking is great to be used before war, to plan for it, or to plan a specific move during war.  But, the master taught me, absolute focus and power on the actual battle is reached through a state of no thought; because thought confuses you, it makes you doubt yourself, it compares your strength with the opponent’s, it makes you fearful and weak…  Chink!–  The blades collide in mid air, guts spew like volcanoes in eruption, blood and unknown liquids shower me.  The great obscenities of war surround me.

Absolute focus and power, the mind must be elevated, always in the moment, move with mastery through the moment but don’t strain yourself over it; flow with it, be one with it, and no past or future should rule the mind of the warrior but the moment…  Chink!–  “Living in the moment shall set you free,” master Kundu said.  And I am moving now, but how I move is not relevant; however, moving is, life is movement, “You are life, my son,” he said…

But what--what is it?!  It is calling to me!  But not voices, something bigger, more expressive, more direct in my being.  Shit!–  I can’t stop it.  Chink!–   It flows through me!  It rattles my head!  This godforsaken land, the mud, the clouds of dust, the unrelenting monsters of war.  They keep coming at me.  And I can’t stop.  AAAGGHH!!–  The pain!  I am on my knees, imploring and fighting my enemies at the same time, blood coating me still, my skin torn and bleeding.  The air is cold and screaming in my ears, entering my head, making it all mush!  GGOODD!!!–  What is happening?!  Is my mind, is not…  My hands.  Jesus!–  How am I doing that?!  Am I…  Could it be a dream…??  My enemies are being tossed aside and backwards, here and there without my involvement.

Bloody hell?!–  What is this?!  Some kind of magic??  And–And my head, it–it  bursts!  Woah!–  Am I–Am I moving away from the ground??  It does not seem real.  But it feels real.  But emerging not from out there, emerging from within me…  I can see something coming at me now, like a thousand banshees speeding through the severely polluted air.  It is a form, a shape, a solid object!  What the hell?!–  I cannot move!  Or float out of its way!  And in the midst of all these misery from battle and the loud noises of the swords and hatchets connecting with steel and also bare flesh.  Death below me. 

The massive stone flings at me!  And–And I BLACK OUT…

All is mind. Human evolution dictates how the mind behaves through time; your desire does not, and that is why your mind cannot move things by itself… yet. It takes a HIGHLY ELEVATED mind to do amazing things which are now the stuff from the movies you see. But all is real, nothing is fiction for the forces behind evolution…

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Stories to ponder.

Interview With The Alchemist.


…Did you ever love me…??  Do you love me now…??  Of  course you do; you were always there for me, I just did not realize it at the time… too self-involved… too busy obeying the demands of the lower beast dwelling in me.  But I wonder if you knew.  Or if I knew.  But I’m sure I did; I mean I was there, experiencing, living my own sudden reactions of hate and love.  Alchemy was hidden, wasn’t it…??  And love sounded prissy, maybe weak, even overrated perhaps…  It just wasn’t enough for me, and it was not the main discussion among my “friends” either; no, it was all about the latest tech app and Hollywood movie out there, the pitiful game of immature relationships and the greed for money.  No, it was in me, this higher alchemy, this higher love and understanding of myself, of others, and of life, but I chose to ignore it and put a concrete wall between us, shielding me from… from me really… from the Higher me…

Ha–  It’s funny, really odd as well, like I was here before, like I had the same train of thought before; so, get this, as I sit here thinking about this a kind of déjà vu seems to overwhelm each cell of my being, veiled and still unclear past memories keep sort of flooding me, making me feel… I don’t know… intense, full of understanding, powerful in a way, almost like I can fly…  But I never flown before, I was confined to the lower perception of myself, and quite disrespectful of myself, distant from the true self-acceptance and confidence radiating through me now.  Yes, I was blind back then, I wouldn’t see people and accept people, see myself and accept myself; I would only see and experience the illusion of the everyday nuisance, these false identities and values in the popularity and wealth from TV celebrities, the lies of politics, the robotic activities of a zombie society, and my own interpretation of love and that misguided interpretation the world has of it.

It was knowledge of the Higher Intelligence flowing through me.  The Great Eternal Mind!  They call it that in our fields of Mental Science, in the Alchemical Labs of the mind of the Higher-Thinking Man…  Yes, absolutely, gnosis did it.  The knowledge increased the understanding within me and pushed wisdom where I could experience it, where my monkey thoughts would be silenced and put aside so I could open my eyes to what I couldn’t see before.

…But, wait, why didn’t you leave me…??  Why did you stick around…??  You could have left, because I neglected you for more than three decades and I even buried you under dark thoughts of lust and anger and under behaviors of ignorance and disdain for myself and others.  …Love again, wasn’t it?  But–But is more than just love what we share, it is the true Essence of Creation itself, it is the original formula of self-transformation, like a constant experience of bliss, and not just the emotional roller coaster of pleasure of human love…  And my family, my friends, people I know, are not there yet; they see me a little askew, cannot process this whole transformation, this deeper understanding of the invisible which has awakened within me, and the fact is they may never get there, they may never experience this bliss, this higher awareness which makes all depression and irrelevance in the world melt away…  It is the tough truth of the universe, you taught me that.  “The lips of wisdom are closed, except to the ears of understanding”–as it goes.

But my love for them has grown even stronger now, because I understand all they think and experience, all their reactions and beliefs, at a deeper level.  It is like that time I got stuck for a while on the top of the fair ride, where the roller coaster cart held me really high and I could see the whole fair park from this elevation–the people walking around eating greedily their cotton candies looked so tiny in the crowd, following the path taken by others and absorbed in the pleasures of the day, looking up at me and wondering why I was there and why I wasn’t with them.  Clouds above, blue sky around me, cool breeze of altitude caressing me and my new thoughts.  I was closer to heaven back then, but did not know it.  But now I do.



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Stories to ponder.

Hell on Earth!

…The  morphing shapes  were  many as  they  trailed behind  the  ominous shadows  of  the  tunnel,  they squiggled  and  portended what  could  be held  for  them; and  they  maintained a  steady  pace, together  in  a line,  believing  in themselves  and  keeping to  their  wits.  And  as  they  kept  moving  forth, background  screams,  machine guns  and  explosions blasted  the  stagnant air  of  the underground;  but,  however, they  did  not waver  or  halt pace.

And they  encountered  voices and  echoes,  most of  them  making  no  sense  to them.  And  they  heard  cackles  and shuffles,  both  nigh and  distant.  And there  was  not  any  normalcy,  logic  or  sanity  in what  reached  their ears.  But  they knew.   They  knew something  was  coming and  they  had to  be  prepared for  the  worst!

The dilapidated  and  rusty handrail  attached  to the  tunnel’s  wall,  then  shook  abruptly and  wouldn’t  stop!  Something  was  definitely afoot.  The  air  rippled  around  them!  Pockets  bloated  the  space  among  them!  Blop–  Blop–  Blop– The  liquid  sludge  next  to them  carried  splashes  and  currents  like  someone  heavy  quickly approached!

And  so  it  happened  that  they  witnessed  a  fairly  distant  light,  and  this  light  was  bright  and  powerful,  and  it  emanated  a  subtle  yet magnetic  pull  that  rippled  the  air and  caused  the  tunnel  to  seem  smaller  and  daunting.  And  they  understood what  this  light  was,  even  though it  was  the  sole  meaning  that  ripped  the  very  core  of  their  fear.

It  was  obvious  this  was  their  main  way  out—as  in  the demon’s  route  out of  Hell!—and  that  is  why  they  were  here  searching  for  them.  They  had  to  seal  this  portal.  They  had  to  succeed.  Otherwise,  chances  were  grim.  Very  grim.  Final,  in  fact.  And  the  risk  was  high,  for  this  wasn’t  a  normal  scenario  by  any  means.  This  was  the  big  leagues.  And  the  time  to  act  was  now.  See,  for  centuries  this  threat  to  humans  had  been  averted,  not  given  any  thought  whatsoever;  oceans  were  calm,  earth  was  stable,  God  watched  over  us,  Satan  tempted  us,  man  reigned  his  own  territory  and  progressed  as  per  own  choice  and  own  will.  But  now  things  were  chaotic,  and  called  for  a  more  substantial/abrupt  approach.  The  Gates  of  Hell  had  been  opened,  and  they  had  to  be  shut.  They  had  to  be  locked.

So  as  this  went  on  with  might,  they  stopped  pace!—  Suspense  climbed  and  razor-sharp  fear  started  to  creep  up  their  spines.  The  core  of  the  mentioned  light  exploded  in  front  of  them!

“Umm.  Gu—Guys,  what  is  going on?”  Kristin  drawled  in  between  grinding  teeth.  “Who—??  Or what—??”

Raphael  and  Praopethuss  kept  vigil,  eyes  following  every  potential  subtleness  in  the  stagnant  air.

“Shhh,”  shushed  Jimmy.  “Gimme  your  hand.  They’re  coming.”

“Who’s  coming?”  She  was  gripping  his  hand  as  hard  as  she  could.


“Jimmy,  make it  visual  for us,”  Raphael  said.

Jimmy  struggled  to  loosen  the  grip  she  had  on  his  hand,  then  proceeded  forward.  “Okay.  I’ll  see  what  I  can do.”

STOMP!  Jimmy  stepped  in  front  of  the  group,  sensed  his  surroundings,  knelt,  and  began  physical  contact  with  the  eerie  tunnel.  STOMP!  His  mental  connection  quickly  surged  through  his  arm,  out  his  hand  and  into  the  ground—it  covered  a  large  patch  and  made  it  tremble  slightly,  then  it  interlaced  and  mixed  with  the  air,  it  cleared  simple  view  and  checked  for  any  constructs  in  it.  Ripples  exploded  in  small  gusts  of  air.  But  they  saw  nothing  alarming,  not  any  hidden  demons  or  constructs.  STOMP! STOMP!  But  something  kept  coming,  nonetheless.


“Sorry.  Nothing,”  he  added.


“Keep  your  guard!”  Praopethuss  shouted.

And  the  air  vibrated  slightly  and  the ripples  kept  surrounding them.  Thus,  it  grew  and  grew.  And  seconds  gripped the  nerves…

. . .

STOMP!  STOMP!  STOMP  STOMP!—  It  kept  coming  and  echoing  louder  and  louder,  stronger  and  stronger  until  they  saw  the  humongous  shapes  and  silhouettes  that  sent  chills  to  their  spines  and  electricity  to  the  back  of  their  necks.  They  were  humanoid-looking  beasts  of  fairly  large  size  each!  They  came  at  them  like  a  pack  of  wolves  at  the  very  sight  of  their  blocking  stance!  They  wouldn’t  budge—and  so  it  felt  like  the  clash  of  titans  right  in  the  putrid  tunnels  had  started!

They  carried  their  sharp  claws  and  agility,  superhuman  strength  and  concentrated  evil.  Taking  advantage  of  it,  two  of  them  quickly  had  leapt  and  were  now  ferociously  attached  to  the wall  like  slimy  slugs;  and  their growling-and-harsh  sounds  were  piercing and  intimidating,  but,  as  it  were,  they  would  not  cause  an emotional  determent  in Raphael  and  his  Sentients.


They  drooled  and  emanated  a  foul  stench  that  increased  sickness  and  terror,  their  physical  moves  were  calculated  and  unexpected,  and  they  came  up  the  liquid  sludge  as  well  as  directly  in  the  path  they  were  currently  on.  These  demons  and  Hell  creatures,  Raphael  and  the  rest  knew,  had  come  out  of  the  bright  light,  the  portal  connected  to  Earth  directly  in  the  sewers.

And  one  of  them  came  rushing  atop  Jimmy!  Sluussshhh-Sttaaack!!  Its  slime  was  overpowering  and  disgusting,  and  Jimmy  felt  bathed  by  it,  almost  swallowed  by  it.  “Get him off me!  Get him off me!”  He  tried  setting  himself  free,  writhing  and  punching  at  the  beast,  but  its  tentacles  were  too  strong,  fairly  sticky  and  full  of  mucosa.

Kristin  and  Raphael  fought  ferociously  to  disentangle  Jimmy  and  free  him  from  the  hideous-looking  creature,  but  to  avail  of  nothing.

“Guys,  look!”  Praopethuss  pointed  out  in  back  of  him.  “Over  there!—”

Through  the  darkness  of  the  smelly  tunnel,  in  between  the  splashing  of  beasts  and  the  measurement  of  the  chaos,  someone  came  running  and  jumping  from  the  tubing  attached  to  the  sewer’s  domed  ceiling—a  familiar  shape,  a  light  of  hope  at  that  exact  moment.   And  so  Johnny  came  dashing  and  leaping,  averting  demons,  and  monkey-bar-dangling  with  perfect  precision.  He  was  so  precise  and  fast  with  his  punches  and  dagger  thrusts  that  he  annihilated  the  mentioned  Hell  perpetrators  on  the  spot.


Johnny  landed  right  next  to  Jimmy  and  the  slimy  creature,  then  pierced  the  blade  firmly  into  it.  “That’s  my  brother,  you  Hell  Spawn!”  A  powerful  light  filled  the  creature  and  it  began  to  crack  like  porcelain!  Then  there  was  a  sudden  burst  of  juices  and  gelatin-like  flesh  and  innards  that  ejected  all  over them!


Jimmy  could  now  barely  see  through  the  light  but  heavy  skin  of  gelatin-like  substance.  “Damn.  Johnny,  that  was,  um,  that  was  quite  an  epic  entrance.”  His  hands  wiped  off  the crap  from  his  eyes.  “…And  thanks.”

“You’re  welcome, bro,”  he  said  behind  a  grin.  “Now,  let’s  give  them  the  kinda  hell  they  came  here  for.”

“Good  to  have  you  back,”  Raphael  stated.

The  monsters  were  now  attacking  from  everywhere  and  anywhere,  and  the  team  was  firmly  standing  their  ground;  loud  shrieking  and  overwhelming  screaming  were  now  tearing  up  the  air  around  them,  sending  pure  adrenaline  into  their  bloodstream.  And  so  these monsters  were  leaping  violently  atop  them.  They  averted  their  jumps  and  thrusts.  Johnny  managed  to  pierce  many  of  them  using  his  trusty  and  powerful  dagger—which  would  cause  its  victims  to  bleed  to  death  instantly!


And  there  were  blinding  explosions  and  light  that  shielded  the  beasts’  attacks,  for  Raphael  and  the  rest  used  great  power  and  strength  from  their  inner  auras;  and  Johnny  would  block  their  hell-raising  wrath  with  the  mighty  dagger,  which  continuously  would  pulse  and  emit  powerful  and sizzling  light…

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The quiet interview.

At a police station interrogation room located somewhere in the U.S., typical police misuse of power happened…

“Ok, listen, White Face, you’re a direct suspect identified by many people on the street, so better start talking!”

“Not talking, eh…  Is hot under these lights, isn’t it?  It seems your girly make-up is melting away… like your funny expressions.”

… (But his girly make-up was not melting away, as the fat cops were certainly sweating like true pigs.)  He suddenly shrugs his shoulders and puckers his lips in some attempt to convey something no one understood what the hell it was.

The first cop says, “Well, what da hell is that?–”  The second cop frowns, rubs his own belly, and leans back in his chair; then he breaks the chair and lands flat on the ground, then he realizes he’s been smoking his cigarette backwards and burns his lips.  “Ouch!  Dammit–”  The heat soon swelters his mouth.  Mother******!!!”

…  He offers his made up glass of water to the second cop that was sending smoke signals from the inside of his mouth and that contorted his body like an effeminate  ballerina.

The first cop says, “Well, well, well, well…”  Then he snatches the invisible glass from his hand and hurls it to the floor in a fit of rage!  Pieces of glass shower the scene, and he continues more calm,  “…Well…  Well…  Well.  You’re not only accused of attempted murder on the street, with your little moves, but now you’ve assaulted my partner.  And under my acute eagle eyes which never miss a thing.  This will cost you, White Face!”

…  He adopts a confused facial expression and rolls his balloon eyes, then purses his lips and shakes his head in quick denial.  

The second cop sits his sore ass on a second chair and keeps smoking,  “It’s no use Captain.  He won’t talk.”

It's no use, Captain. He won't talk.

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Stories to ponder.

The beat down at the campus.

On a seemingly normal day, Michael Barnes, professor of Creative Writing at Utah State University, was taking a nice walk to his car right after class…

Hmmm, there lingered  a  concerned  ebb  and  tranquil  course  tightly  bound  by  the  structures  of  his  new  chosen  life.  He  was  quite  happy,  yet  there  was  something  missing…  Something,  indeed.  His  new  life  was  defined  by  his  oscillatory  students’  grades  and  by  his  published  novels’  many  successes.  The  profound  mouth  of  the  unforgiving  winter  that  had  begun  gave  bitter-way  to  a  most  hesitant  spring  and  wrecked  in  the  warmth  and  unassuming  nature  of  the  second  semester’s  final  week.

There  was  something,  though,  that  wanted  to  get  out,  that  wanted  to  come back;  part  of  him  fought  against  serenity,  even  though  he  had  chosen  to  erase  that  chapter  of  his  past  life  long  ago.  His  memory  would  not  let  him  forget  about  it.  A  very  strong  part  of  his  concealed  former  life,  long  ago  when  younger,  in  the  seemingly  clandestine  service  of  the  U.S.  government,  the  part  that  would  always  remind  him  that  he  had  deserted  and  vanished  under  his  new  name,  new  face,  new  life,  and  new  identity.


Six  years  had  been  since  then,  but  he  still  had  the  nightmares  once  in  a  while,  it  was  engraved  in  his  blood,  in  his  secluded  mind  and  tortured  soul.  The  stress  and  shocking  brutality  of  his  great  love’s  death  had  been  the  major  catalyst  of  his  mental  and  physical  metamorphosis.

Cloudy  afternoon  with  dark  shades  in  the  firmament.  He  was  out  near  the  empty  parking  lot  when  he  heard  raspy  and  harsh,  deep  voices  and  heated  conversations,  and  saw  large  and  massive  shadows  moving  along  the  far  building wall.

“You  betta  have  all  my  money,  bitch,  otherwise  we  gon’  slit  ya’  fucking  throat!”

“I—I’ll  have  it  next  week,  I—I  promise,”  the  voice  stuttered  scared.

Michael  dropped  the  stack  of  papers  and  books  he  had  been  carrying  and  sprinted  toward  the  voices.  He  stopped  before  nearing  them  and  saw  three  young  black  men,  about  twenty-five  to  thirty  years  old,  wearing  long  black  trench-coats  threatening  to  bring  a  world  of  pain,  or  even  death,  to  a  younger  white  male.  They  were  violently  trapping  him  against  the  wall.

They  had  a  particular  stance,  which  Michael  studied  carefully;  their  knees  slightly  bent,  their  strong  upper  limbs  loose  but  threatening,  and  one  of  them  holding  a  pocket  knife.  They  were  boldly  dominant  and  ready  to  slice  him  up!

“Muthafucka,”  snarled  one,  wiry  and  a  bit  twitchy.  His  face  defiant  and  of  strong  features.  “Give  us  our  money  or  we’ll  cut  ya.  You  been  told  and  your  time  is  gone,  you  hear  me?!”

“Man,  you  fuckin’  prick,  dunno  shit,  don’tcha.”  He  stepped  up  to  the  kid  and  readied  his  sharp  blade.

The  scared  young  victim-not  more  than  twenty  years  old-began  to  tremble  and  beg  for  his  life.  They  laughed  raucously  and  sinisterly,  making  mocking  gestures  and  clicking  their  pocket  knives  for  threatening  effect,  at  what  the  white  male  shrank  back  farther  away  against  the  wall  as  the  black  guys  closed  in.  The  one  closer  put  the  knife  closer  to  his  throat.

One  of  them,  thick-muscled,  heavyset,  drew  an  arms-length  metal  pipe  from  underneath  his  black  trench-coat,  looked  to  both  sides,  and  got  ready  to  bash  him.  “That  right,  bitch!  Lemme  break  his  punk-ass  fruity  hands,  Dar.”  He  gripped  the  pipe  tighter  in  his  hands  in  a  batter  stance.  “Just  tell  me  how  d’you  want  it,  baby.  I’ll  break  ya  fucking  skull.”

“Yo,  man,  put  that  away!”  the  boss  ordered,  while  nearing  the  blade  to  his  thin  throat.

As  the  wiry  kid  put  the  pipe  down  and  obeyed  cursing  under  his  breath,  Barnes  hurried  at  them.  So  quiet  was  his  attack,  so  targeted  were  they  on  their  malignant  and  gruesome  intentions  that  they  did  not  became  aware  of  the  pounding  they  were  about  to  suffer.

He  grabbed  the  wiry  kid’s  pipe  in  his  right  hand  as  it  was  resting  down,  left  elbowed  him  in  the  face,  then  the  kid  cursed  mightily  to  this  pain  and  fell  down  to  the  ground  unconscious.

One  knocked-the-hell unconscious on the floor. Two to go!

When  the  second  one  saw  this,  he  instantly  swung  his  balled-fist  at  a  very  alert  Michael,  knuckles  sweeping  through  the  air  with  sharp-edged  rings,  these  big-ass  rings  aimed  directly  to  his  ribs.

At  that  moment,  from  that  hidden  and  dark  place  in  his  brain,  synapses  exploded  and  memories  flowed  like  current,  and  the  Ex  persona  took  control.  The  now  active  Jay  Ex  deflected  the  steady-rushing  blow  with  his  left  arm  by  doing  a  circular  blocking  motion,  advanced  two  small  steps,  and  then  balled-fist  with  his  two  fists  at  the  same  time  into  the  thug’s  lower  rib cage  section.  He  went  down  like  a  sack  of  potatoes,  clawing  at  his  chest  and  squirming.

The  third  and  last  thug,  meaner  and  larger  than  the  other  two  (more  muscular  and  about  six  feet  tall  plus  in  height),  cursed  and  dropped  the  pocket  knife,  then  unveiled  an  almost  two  feet  butcher’s  knife  from  underneath  his  loosened  trench-coat.  He  lunged  psychotically  at  the  Ex  persona,  who  studied  in  less  than  a  second  the  fast  movement  of  the  huge  thug,  delivering  a  quick  and  clean  blow  to  the  side  of  the  hand  holding  the  knife;  the  weapon  was  thrown  clear  like  a  projectile,  the  hand  of  the  thug  was  left  dangling  sore  as  it  had  been  targeted  at  the  wrist  with  full  precision.

A  very  robotic,  very  movement-calculated  Ex  produced  a  swift  kick  to  the  back  of  his  right  knee  and  then  this  one  bent  like  paper,  then,  suddenly,  he  snaked  his  right  arm  around  the  large  thug’s  neck  (he  had  to  jump  a  bit  since  he  was  just  5’9”  and  the  thug  a  full  six  feet  4  inches).

“I  will  not  repeat  this  again…”  he  whispered  with  confidence  and  calmness  into  his  ear.  “In  five  seconds  I  will  let  go  and  all  of  you  will  disappear,  so  I  will  not  have  to  hurt  you  any  further.  This  is  final,  you  hear!”  He  slowly  let  go  of  him  while  making  sure  they  understood  this.  Then  they  hurried  away  swearing  and  gasping  for  air,  agitated  for  the  shocking  display.  The  one  that  had  been  unconscious  on  the  ground  was  woken  up  by  one  of  his  mates,  moaned  and  cursed  about  his  broken  tooth,  and  started  running  away  with  the  rest.

Stories to ponder.

Against the forces of evil (1-min. read)

This is my personal story:
      One rainy night my parents and I were coming back home, when a heavily drunk asshole hit our Peugeot (that’s a car, for you Americans who do not know) and sent us all to the near Mar Del Plata’s main hospital (Mar Del Plata, Argentina, where I was born and raised).  I had been injured pretty badly, and actually much more than my parents; the ambulance couldn’t revive me as I was in a deep unconscious state, losing blood and seizing every five minutes.  Once there, the hospital team did everything they could to bring me back to life, but it was too late, for I was dead, gone from this physical plane.
 Several minutes later, I don’t know how or why (I just know that nothing that happens is random, all has a purpose in life–even when we don’t understand what’s happening) but I returned to life, and greatly changed (not just in physical function but in other aspects as well).  Now, I won’t tell you that while dead or unconscious without pulse I saw some brilliant light or angels or pearly gates swung open or anything like that.  Let your imagination fly–there is not enough use of good imagination now-a-days.
     After that, to make it shorter, I acquired certain talents or “conscious endowments”.  And in the course of many months, I encountered great abilities head-on (granted they weren’t strong yet, but in firm transition or conscious evolution).  My parents, of course, weren’t told anything because they would not have understood (you know, religious parents, or “normal-by-this-society” parents).  And at the same time, I needed more time for myself and “to find me”.  Put it simply, I wanted a job where I could meet great experiences, develop great wisdom in those extraordinary lessons from life itself, so I went in search for one.  So, after months of search for the right one for me, Mr. Hernandez—a Psychic Investigator and a nice man—gave me the opportunity to earn some cash (some pesos), and I joined his ‘Mar Del Paranormal’ agency as an apprentice.
     Adapting was hard, specially having in mind the countless nights of sleep deprivation, sweating, and also the internal transfiguration that my physical body went through during the days and nights.  I felt wretched at times, and at times I felt wonderful; however, I see now that it was not just my inner transmutation that made me feel like that, going through various moods, pains and states of emotion, but also it was my adjusting to the “especial condition”of my job and its high levels of “spiritual” environment.  A lot of energy flowing inside me, I could experience my own consciousness dynamically changing and I was too becoming more in tune with the collective consciousness grid of humankind; all this knowledge and special talents, my intelligence (intellectual and emotional) was certainly growing and I possessed a different, deeper understanding of life, for I could see and sense things that the common individual couldn’t, angels but I could also see demons (and, believe me, they can be anywhere among us, and even now you may have one by your side).
     I was indeed becoming faster than I had ever been, jumped higher, with inwardly use of another sight into parallel dimensions, and, well, I was certainly sure I could do much more–just needed to figure out how.  Needed to be patient, too; but, as you can imagine, fifteen-year old kids are not too patient (almost sixteen though; big difference, right?).  But, I have to say, I always had a good relationship with my parents and was a good receptor to their examples of behavior; so, my strong character counted with profound insight based on my parents’ wealthy teachings, and I owned a rather resolute and cautious demeanor in my personal life endeavors, and, obviously, this helped to cope with further psychological and spiritual developments in my youth.
     The following weeks of recuperation were horrible, because I was plagued by nightmares of unknown people dying which seemed awfully real, and a plethora of natural catastrophes, and a super-odd premonition about my own father dying in some strange land I did not recognize–all signs of my own apocalypse coming to fruition, a renaissance or rebirth of my consciousness.
      I had slowly accepted my role as a higher-conscious entity in constant development and had also learned to make the best of it.  So, over the course of the next year, Mr. Hernandez aided me in understanding my transformation further–he was indeed a very emotionally intelligent psychic with many outstanding qualities, awards, and mystical experiences–and in how to embrace my evolving powers, and so make my multi-dimensional transition more natural for me.  How to hide my true persona when mixing with others in high school, how to control my powerful mind, how to manage my insatiable hunger for learning (since I was extremely curious and also always searching for wisdom in books)–all this was well taught to me under his watchful eye.  And in time I stopped being a kid and matured a lot, and became, too, a true higher entity to help those in real danger from the creatures of the night and the darkness.  All this training to prepare for the end of days as we know it:  ‘The presidency of one Mr. Donald Trump!’
Stories to ponder.


Blop–  Blop–  Globules of dreams.  Spherical forms of happiness and misery.  Color changing bubbles reflecting her soul and mine, what was gained, what was lost.  At times red.  At times blue.  At times bright recollections, thousands of them, of a past alive and fresh.  At times obscure reminders, millions of them, of a past so miserable and frustrating which I could not bear for the life of me.

Blop– Blop–  The new house on the valley of roses and thorns.  That fateful night of pure romance.  My soul-twin.  And the warm touch of her hand.  The faucet dripping.  The cat which I never loved.  Those Teddy bears which mocked me when I passed our room.  I had made my demands and she had made hers, but it all had been a whirlwind and no one had known what had happened.  I did swim deeply in the love she had offered,  even though I had hated her amusements and characters.  And so she had hated mine.

Blop– Blop–  We had been lovers and enemies.  I see that through the bubbles now.  I surrender to many things now, my immaturity and blindness, my ego and arrogant ways…  But I recognize now through the color-changing bubbles that my surrendering comes too late.  Too late.  The car had deviated from its path and the bridge had marked the next event, and so it had been too late for us…  The bubbles…  The bubbles were awaiting patiently.  And maybe.  Maybe it was written in the stars.  Maybe it was written in our souls.  Only God knows that.

Blop– Blop–  The depth is incredible, there are fish here and it is beautiful, spirits of love and tenderness among my recollections of happiness and sadness; I keep seeing through its mirror, I keep seeing her and she smiles.  And our flesh and thought is old now, dying, dead, because of the bubbles, and because of the car…  The car which forged our destiny, the end of our happiness and misery, the end of our love and hate.