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8.27.2021

8/27/2021

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 Does anyone else feel like humanity stands on the cusp of some great change? I know I’m not the first to suggest this recently. You’ve got some claiming this feeling stems from the dramatic technological changes our generation is going through, and others pointing to Mercury Retrograde. And everything in between.

Hard to say exactly what the cause is. Some may argue it’s political. The Red/Blue divide is more hostile than ever with tribal politics getting violent. Perhaps we stand on the precipice of a civil war.
Or maybe the change is spiritual. Some higher understanding of our natural existence will reveal itself to us in the Age of Aquarius.

Perhaps no great alteration will occur at all, and the sensation is perpetuated by the anxiety of our modern life.

What are your thoughts?
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8.10.2021

8/10/2021

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I’m having a hard time today.

Celebrity deaths are a strange phenomenon to me. Missing someone you’ve never met, crying over someone who you’ve only ever seen on a screen. And yet those people were a part of our lives, perhaps as much as our friends and family.

Trevor Moore died a few days ago and I haven’t been okay. I’ve been a big fan of the sketch comedy artist since I was a child growing up in a strict Christian household. Growing up in such chocked atmosphere, the outlet The Whitest Kids U’ know provided me was like a breath of fresh air after being locked in a basement my entire life. The face of Trevor came to be the face of independence, even freedom of thought for me. A beacon in a dark room. It sounds cheesy. Maybe it is. But it doesn’t matter.

I haven’t missed someone this much in a long time. It feels like some fundamental part of myself has been removed, a key part of my identity dissolved.
​
Rest in peace, Trevor. 
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8.2.2021

8/2/2021

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Maybe it happens to everyone at some point. Maybe it's just me. Either way, no one talks about it. You can't. Because what would you say?

Would you be called a liar? Would you be declared mad?

If a word exists in the English lexicon for a fundamental, even existential sensations of wrongness, I haven’t found it. But that word would describe the phenomena.

To look up at the sky, and watch. And as stars consume your senses, you hear something. A conversation not meant for your ears. A debate not meant for mankind.

Or perhaps you found yourself on the stage, standing before a grand sentinel of empty seats. Your breath echoes off the vaulted ceiling. You turn behind you to the curtain. To peel back that red fabric and peak behind it, you glimpse that thing.

Indescribable. Liar. Madman.

What you see and what you hear, those things do not exist. Cannot exist. Because existence would demand something you cannot give.
​
I no longer listen to the night sky, and I no longer look behind the curtain. 

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    Brian Gates.
    Born on November 13, 1991

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