About The Cosmic Moon Tree

Frankly, across my lifespan, such that it is, I’ve felt like a figment of someone else’s imagination. Dogmatic assumptions about the cosmos paired with some nonsense masquarading as culture has left me with an evaporated sense of being. I feel parched, barren, dead. More importantly I feel extracted and freeze dried like I’m a living mummy. I live in a cannibalistic culture of mummfication with an expectation that this literal fuckery foo is life giving, life sustaining, and love.

N.e.f.a.r.i.o.u.s. B.u.l.l.s.h.i.t.

Here I tell stories in various forms. Arting, actual events in story form, observations, reflections, and whatever else I want to throw out there. I’d be lying if I told you I knew what I as doing. I don’t. I’m just breathing, expressing, igniting, restoring, reclaiming, and pointing to the naked emperors parading around in all their earthen glory. I’m hoping my body heals as it reveals the shit stomping parade in favor of a better story.

Sometimes, I guess, I have an axe to grind. Other times I have a hankie to blow in. Yet, other times, I find something to laugh at as I enjoy nonsense. I’m not trying to get even. I don’t believe in revenge or blood lust. I figure, getting real, honest, and securely open [maintaining my safety], I can say what I’ve carried around as someone else’s iimaginary creature. I’m someone’s monster in the shadows lurking. I’m hoping to start a Satanic panic then. It’s time to talk about the delusion.

I’m watching the world collapse in on itself under it’s fear mongering, power lusting, survival brain delusion and I wait. Some people call it an awakening. They’re probably right. My place is in reassembly options. I offer restoration, hospitality, embodied reconnection, revelation. I’m on the journey too. No expertise. Just full scale embodiment. It’s time to rewild. It’s time to be unmanageable. It’s time to end human domestication. It’s time to dance happily around the cosmic moon tree.

#End Human Domestication.