Tribute to an Old Friend

With the passing of Chris Cornell yesterday my conversations and reflections fell onto friends who have passed away.   One memory that stuck out was of a man I met as a child and used to spend time listening to as he spoke of his life experiences.  A wild and exciting set of stories that could be very difficult to believe.

I was always told he was nothing but a storyteller.  None of it was real.  The old man was lying.

On the day he died I finally found out he was being honest, and telling true stories.  While helping to clean up his home after he passed, I saw all the things one would need to see to believe his stories. 

As I relayed this experience to my step dad, he was reminded of a song.  This song "Cowboy Bill".  Perhaps a bit "hookey', but... very close to the experience.

In tribute to this lost friend, I wanted to post these lyrics in his memory.

"Cowboy Bill"

He told a good story and all of us kids listened
'Bout his life on the border and the way it was then
And we all believed him and when he would finish
We'd ask the old cowboy to tell 'em again

You could almost hear those prairie winds blowin'
His saddle a creaking beneath his old faded jeans
You could taste the dry dust from the trail he was ridin'
As he sat there and painted those west Texas scenes

And the grown-ups would tell us
You boys keep your distance, that old man's just tellin' you lies
But to all of us kids Cowboy Bill was a hero
Just as true as his blue Texas skies

He told of a time when he rode with the Rangers
Down on the Pecos and he saved the day
Outnumbered by plenty, they were almost to cover
With thirty banditos headed their way

He looked back just in time to see a horse stumble
The captain went down and Bill pulled up on his reins
And through a flurry of bullets he rescued the captain
And they rode for a sunset, just the story remains

And the grown-ups would tell us
You boys keep your distance, that old man's just tellin' you lies
But to all of us kids Cowboy Bill was a hero
Just as true as his blue Texas skies

Well I still remember the day that it happened
We waited and we waited but Bill never showed
And the folks at the feed store said they hadn't seen him
So we set out for his place down Old Grist Mill Road

And we cried when we found him 
lying there with his memories
The old trunk wide open, things scattered about

He was clutching a badge that said Texas Ranger
And in old "yeller" letters, said Texas Is Proud 

And the grown-ups that told us
You boys keep your distance, that old man's just tellin' lies
Well now they're all sayin' Cowboy Bill was a hero
Just as true as his blue Texas skies 

Just as true as his blue Texas skies


Empty Places

Where did he go?

Punished for the truth?

Finally tired of lying?



I grew tired. Tired of having to explain and explain again.  Tired of trying to play a role I never wanted. 

I know what I am.  My entire life I have been a student of human behavior.  It's why I am here.  It's why I have chosen such a convoluted life path that has led me into cults and programs, then out again.  This is what drew me to the stage, under the lights.  This is what keeps all aspects of my life always moving around, not always for the better.  Personally and publicly.   I want to experience Everything.

The light projected my shadow onto the stage and this is what I needed to finally see... what I was hiding in there. 

So where did The Ruiner go?  No where... he was always just passing by. 

This past two years has been a process.  For me. 

What have I learned?

People only believe what they want to believe.  No amount of proof or evidence will ever suffice.  People only change their minds and hearts, when they want to and then choose to. 

I tried to help.  So many of us are hurting. So many out there have experiences they can't make sense of. But I can... so I tried to help.  

You can't help people who don't want to change, or do not choose to change.  And yes, I can help you change, if you want to.  (I am still changing as well.)

At what cost?

Do I dive in and end up like the rest of my "peers" in your alternative community?  Do I expand my "story" to "fit in" and please my "followers"?

Followers... hmmmmm.  Interesting word made common by social media.  The subconscious mind must love that... but I digress. 

Do I pretend I agree with people just to maintain my place on the shelf? 

No... I definitely know I can't do that. 

So do I go the other way and ruin the delusions to the furthest extent possible?  Do I tell you all that what you're following here in this information stream is a pack of lies?  That your "truth speakers" are like "B Movie" stars or local / small town politicians.   (In some cases, literally) That the foundation of so called "knowledge" I watch people regurgitate is a foundation of bullshit? 

Do I go even further, in the opposite direction,  and tell you that my "fictional" blog was... all a lie?    I know such a declaration would makes a handful of people very happy.

Would any of that change anything?  

No.  It wouldn't.... because we believe what we want to believe.  

We all lie, to ourselves, and we all believe in lies, from others. 

And this universe views the buyer and seller of lies as equals. 

Do we actually want to be weak and powerless?  Is this our way of avoiding the responsibility that comes with "great power".  Our "great power" being that we create our reality through thought, feeling and action. 

Through our beliefs.  What we choose to believe. 

So what is the cost?

Playing my role in the alternative community has caused me to neglect everything else. 

My body, my kids, my passions, many friends and family, my life partner.  

I can quite confidently say that if this particular spotlight can influence my own ego... most of my "peers" are fucked.  

What happens when an ego gets poked by this community?

The Sphere Being Alliance.  Montauk Boys.  The Universal Protection Unit.  4D ascension. The public surrender and hanging of "The Cabal".  Gold reserves and financial resets.  Dragon Families.  Personality Forums. This group is beating up that group and... There are more examples. 

This year will pass without Disclosure. 

Without exposure of all the "info". 

No ET's are coming, for any reason. 

The Alt Media And Alt Community have you confused? Try this...

Replace "info" with the word "fantasy". 

"His (fantasy) doesn't align with his (fantasy)".  See, confusion solved. 

Personalities telling stories, looking for attention, whether their egos admit it or not. 

"Awake"?  No, just a different kind of dream.  One you prefer. 

"Aware"?  Perhaps a little, but that awareness is also drowned by nonsense. 

Enlightened?  Oh fuck off.

It was sucking me dry by eating away at my time.  Not my energy, only because I have too much of that anyways, which I generate on my own. 

I've been called names and have been accused of various agendas.  Meanwhile I'm just a guy whose blog you shouldn't have ever found.  A guy with a regular and exceptional life.  A paradox. 

I've also been praised and appreciated.  Meanwhile I'm just a guy who wrote a blog while wasting time at his day job. 

"All this work for humanity".  Again, please and kindly, fuck off.  

So now what do I do? 

The podcasts were fun.  Being interviewed was not.  Writing I will always do. 

Interacting with the community personally has been a mixed bag.   Assumptions and expectations have been mind blowing.  

What I have realized is, this is entertainment for most.  So it should be treated as such.  This becomes an obsession for so many.  Not unlike a drug, or sports or gambling or ....

"My information is better than your information."  "Don't listen to him/her listen to me!" 

"Please donate so I can devote my time to saving the world."

Kindly,  fuck off. 

The alt media and the mainstream media are simply two versions of the same thing.  Media. There is no secret information here, just concepts and ideas.  

Those concepts and ideas matter... because we are creating our reality.  

So... be careful what you wish and dream. 

What do I do now?  I'm not sure.    But here I go.