Fuck Your Dreams

Magic works even in a thick fog. It cuts through like the second hand of a watch, steady and consistent. But magic isn't always magical. The lessons can be awful, mundane, even treacherous. While your bigger dreams explode far away, you are cleaning piss and shit for a living. Watching your bank account dry up to nothingness. How is this magic on a grand scale? What the hell kind of dream is coming true?

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP

And The Light Will Destroy

We had to obtain permission from our ego to smile and be happy. To feel stoned with joy. To burn with pride and love towards the generosity of a friend. We were afraid but we survived.

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP

The Hot Note Starving To Death

We are happiest when we are playing music, when we are making it, when we are straddling music like a motorcycle.

We are not young and these days time is not abundant. No time for straddling. We absorb it like a ravenous prisoner, crumbs of music attacked. We are malnourished without it.

As always, by we I mean I.

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP

Emergency Room Bedtime Stories

Illness abounds, we hold their trembling ribcage. The only way to encourage health is to not imagine the worst.

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP

Indulge Your Poon

Days grind on with enough variation of routine to make it painful. "It's only Thursday," she said. "My knees feel like they're on fire," I replied. "We are not surfing or playing drums. We are not saving money. We're dying in our own aquarium." I was not communicating with the expectation of response.

From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP

Outsider Dreams

We used to dream about flying. About blind babies with veiny, watermelon heads that lived behind the drywall, scratching their way around the house. We used to dream several times a night. Now we dream about reality. Boring dreams about authentic conversations. So we've begun imaginative therapy. We've started the discipline of reading Scandinavian folk tales before bed to fortify our dreams. Now the dead will be alive and we won't notice. Now a young girl will be an older boy, without question. Now our home is built on dirt. We are beginning to dream outside the walls again. From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield, DP

Disenfranchised no longer

It was a bottom-less drop but I scrambled quickly to make the responsible choices. Looking forward, prosperity and adventure appear to be asleep on the doorstep. I summon all the potentials and choose the one of glory.


From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield,

DP