Probably one of the best descriptions of depression I ever read. Had to share:

“She felt so old, so worn out, so far away from the best moments of her life that she even yearned for those that she remembered as the worst… Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.”

— One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad, 1967) Gabriel García Márquez

Raking Leaves


The trees are not ashamed of their nakedness. They have stepped out of their summer wear, short sleeved leaves that now lay idle upon the course concrete. Some have managed to fall upon the now stiff soil in hopes the dirt may integrate them back into the earth and they be born again by way of decomposition. But the winds will not give them rest, will not honor the time it takes for them to eventually disintegrate but will instead blow its breath against the now crackling foliage into my front yard. I have nothing against the leaves, but they should know that their friends have been here twice this week already and I am not apt to redeem them again. First of all, winter has showed up again on my Louisiana doorstep unannounced. It carries on the shoulders of the skies only black and whites and gray; a dull reminder that it is time for me to hibernate under the covers. I have bills to pay sure, but my boss doesn’t know that I have an uninvited guest this morning and will not be able to report to work. This is not about me though; this is about them…those dreadful leaves. I’m convinced they know what they’re doing. Like me, they wish only to escape the cold. They’ve spent enough time hanging out against the backdrop of tree bark long enough to know that darker colors are absorbers of light and thereby become better radiators of heat. For this reason they anxiously wait for me to assemble them into those big black garbage bags. Never mind that my face might fall off; that the frigid air will smack me across the head with its hand pulling my face along with it. And how would that look to the neighbors? A faceless woman fighting leaves on the front yard. They care nothing about this though, selfish leaves. They actually depend on my need to see color again. To do away with the browns and the grays and the blacks for just one more chance to see the sun play hide and seek upon the vibrant green of freshly cut grass—undisturbed by the ugly brown leaves sleeping in the back yard.

But today this will just have to suffice. I don’t feel like having to explain to my neighbors why I have no face. I am not yet ready to face the beat down I have coming to me for the chance to scrape up things that will just be here again 20 minutes after I am done. So now dear leaves run along now. Find someone else to pick on your bully’s. I am not your salvation today.

The Illuminati Obssessed Youth

Since every kid I seem to run into now days seems to be infatuated with the Illuminati, let me just say this:

Dear Young People,


The Illuminati is not a group of rich white men sitting in a dimly lit room around a table smoking Cigars. These are servants of the Illuminati (called The Order of the Illuminati) but they are not the real Illuminati. The real Illuminati are actually a group of Fallen Angels called Watchers who were to watch over mankind but instead came down to marry and have sex with human women. As a result, these produced Giants on the Earth called Nephillim (meaning from Heaven to Earth they came, the Benni Ha Elohim, or Sons of the Gods) and resulted in the great flood (Gen. 5-6). The “All Seeing Eye” is the Symbol for The Watchers, that’s why it’s an eye because it symbolizes their watch over mankind. There are lots of movies many of you enjoy that tell their story, such as many of your Super Hero movies, Hercules, Thor, Superman, X-Men, etc. Illuminati is for Illumination and is to symbolize the supposed light that Lucifer is giving to those who serve him (since he used to be the light bearer and all). Light is symbolic of truth and knowledge but this knowledge Satan is giving to the Order of the Illuminati (the human servants) through The Watcher angels under him is not a good knowledge, and his truth is deception: it’s a lie that is made to look like the truth.


If you wanna know what’s going on get off of YouTube and pick up a bible. In Gen. Chapter 3 is the foundation to every secret society / mystery school to ever exist. (Example: The Symbol for Skull & Bones is a pair of cross bones over the numbers: 3:22, it is to represent Death and Genesis 3:22, man has become a God. They worship Satan outright because they say that Satan gave man Godhood). So, start there, but don’t walk around reppin the Illuminati, they are not your friends, and it has never been cool to worship the devil.


burdenI don’t understand why some of you burden yourselves. Life is hard enough that we don’t have to add unnecessary baggage. Like, why do I have to buy the organic egg vs. the regular egg? The organic salad vs. the regular salad? And what’s wrong with tap water? 100 yrs ago we couldn’t have dreamed of buying water and yet here we are. I bet you they ain’t tripping over water in Africa though, or in some third world country where they drink water you wouldn’t even bathe in. Goldberg gonna be selling you air next though, then there’s gonna be a debate about which air tank is the healthiest. There is just so much more important things in the world to worry about than what we choose to carry. Sometimes it’s not the load that breaks us down, it’s both how we choose to carry the load and the load we choose to carry.

The Ultimate Test

Caught in the Storm

“For one human being to love another is perhaps the most difficult task of all, the epitome, the ultimate test. It is that striving for which all other striving is merely preparation.” – Rainer Maria Rilke

Interesting quote. When you boil everything down to its genuine purpose, it all seems to come back to love. Mankind prepares itself to understand what love is and how to exhibit that love. I think perhaps imperfection is not being without mistakes, but perhaps, being without love.

What if the Ultimate test, the promised land of sacrifice and endurance, is the preparation of ourselves to meet love in its purest form, where in comparison to such esteem that even the sun is but artificial light? Would not our struggles be worth it? The beauty of pure love, it is too much to fathom, “that striving for which all other striving is merely preparation.”


What happened when you read the title of this post? Did you hearken on a definition, or did your mind replay the events of the past?

They say betrayal is something people do to the ones they love. How profoundly interesting a thought. The TV show The Strain, for instance, shows how the infected return to murder their loved ones first. And in the history of the relationships we’ve had throughout our lives, chances are its the closest love that got us. People who admire our work are those who have a history of hating us for the very work they wish belonged to them. Not all admirers but those who secretly hate when we improve. Like the song says, “Smiling in yo face, all the time wanna take yo place, them back stabbers.” They say some do it with a bitter look. Some a flattering word, and others a sweet kiss. And in the words of Dennis Haysbert (the All State Guy) in a clip from the movie Love and Basketball,  the most bold is right at your front door.


It comes in many different shapes, sizes, and motives, and often enters under the banner of love. A smile, a wave, or a joke or two that happens as the knives enter your lower torso. Since hate transforms itself into an angel of light, the love we have for these people makes for an invisible wound; a wound that is not instant thanks to our blindness but that appears later. Dripping from holes unnoticed by the sister you called friend, or the brother you thought loyal. The pain has no calendar to which it wishes to disappear into, and is not interested in evaporating so that you have the privilege of time, in which you decide when to trust again. Not likely. Know that the pain will  sit there long enough for you to put up the proper walls that only true love can tear down. As for trust, it is a mirror that only time can restore. Yes, betrayal, it is a broken bone of trust capitalizing on the scars already on our backs.

So what’s the good news? What’s encouraging about this post? Well, nothing. Nothing except that while Betrayal shows up often, it really only has one job.

To make you stronger.