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My Podcast is only being made because I no longer have a relationship with my son. It takes the place of our conversations and serves as a memorial, to him, to truth and to fighting the scourge of escapism, predation and bullshit in our drug infested culture.

Nov 29, 2021

You would be turning 29 now.

He insisted I listen to Alan Watts, so I do.

1000 years of guitar.

We are a stream of gas...wut???

We're not who we think we are.

I made myself into a drunk, I managed to find a way out in the Library.

Mirrors are indifferent.

I miss you so much on your birthday, every day.

The you that lived.

Nov 22, 2021

I hear your man crying.

It feels really really weird.

Danger in immanent.

I lost her for 2 minutes.

Hey Monster!

We're fractals.

I made a promise to their father.

Nov 15, 2021

A tone poem of sorts.

My Daughter called me as I was composing.

She was washing dishes.

The microphone was on, so I listened.

This life.

The trees were alive and beautiful.

We're always going to miss him.

Something happens...ya know?

It's hard to put into words.

This life.



Nov 8, 2021


I asked a friend for feedback, It was nutritious.

The truth is not eloquent.

I edit in real-time.

I use my son's death to go in circles.

Funky and stupid musical language.

I blab about that a thing?

I feel an obligation.

Inside out.

Hastings. 1066





Nov 1, 2021

I have triple standards.

Grief is unreasonable.

Overdose is a choice.

Die for something good.

He could have become.

I chose to initiate myself as a new person, to live with a broken heart.

To be consoled by reality