There once existed a time.  I was young, in school, and hearing all the things around me.  One might say, I was dwelling in the dark ages… although knew not.  Teachers said it, people said it, movies said it.  Medieval times are inferior to the days of today.  The statement never set in.  The statement simply existed like an inanimate cloud lurking around me.  The mood of the comment loomed in the air, stale and lifeless.  A thing simply said, although never speaking for its self.

There was once a young guy.  The guy was a medievalist.  Yes, an honest to god medievalist.  The guy lived a clean life, likely cleaner than many people of his day.  The guy used sciences, quite liberally.  And, the guy seemed to have an answer for just about any problem existing in his day.  Although, the cold truth is this.  The guy lived in anna domina 2009.  A medieval Carolingian.

Clean air, in the days of that guy, didn’t exist.  Nature’s food, in the days of that guy, didn’t exist either.  Hunting?  Forget about it.  All the animals are dead, fish too.  Living off the land?  Impossible.  Although, everybody had everything they wanted.  Religion?  Dead too.  The blind leading the blind, and dead vultures feasting on the dead.  Atheism?  Dead.  No life, no substance, simply addicted to extremes and absolute non-existing principles.  The soul?  The flesh?  Lifeless, dependent on anything except its self.

It never ceases to amaze me.  People depict every medievalist as if dirty and unwashed, sick and unhealthy, lacking and always needy.  The people forget the power of human potential and the ceaseless ways it is proven daily.  Oops, I forgot my lipstick.  Life goes on and I was absolutely beautiful that day.  The power is out.  I light a candle and enjoy the day far more than I had before.  I didn’t have time to shower twice today.  The day was great.

As an artist, I once created a proverb… imperfection only serves to prove perfection.  Funny how that works.  My hand twitched or my line veered, yet the work turned out brilliantly.  Only perfect, even to critics.  Why?  Because there is a very serious truth existing in all times.  The earth is the standard which one will accept for her, or himself.  I imagine, the people who imagine medievalists to be dirty vagrants are… the ones who would wine if left in the woods alone, or the ones who learned from those people.  I myself?  I begin building and I start eating.  In the end, I live just as I always will… and just as human potential ceaselessly allows in every moment, and in every way.  Both good and perfect, because no other standard exists.

That young guy though… he went off to create old axioms and ancient proverbs.  Stuff like, when the first day is perfect…  the last day both shall be and wills to be good.  Things like, speech is le result of thought in amount great.  The guy honored women as both special and equal.  The guy did crazy stuff like, smile at people; like, attempt to create better days around himself and around others; like, actually loving the substance within himself and looking for genuine substance in others.  Although, the guy had dedicated his life to SEVEN virtues; women, children, valor, virginity, chastity, and widows.  The truth is, the guy will die alone.

Perspective: Another Day at Work

I am a man whom is plagued by my past.  Death is something that I cannot fear.  The thought of death, merely excites me in a know all kind of way.  I’ve woken up, face-to-face, with death for some tens, hundreds, et cetera, days.  Even today, I sleep not in the shadow of death and last night there was a mock drive by regarding my life.  The car would have run me over, although I was standing in front of a light pole.

And so… what did I do?  I woke up, I walked outside, and I’ll be at that same place tonight; and the next night, and the next night.  Quite frankly, whether the people desire my death, or whether the people desire my life, is of no concern to me.  My regard is for the things I did yesterday, becoming today.  Further, not merely today… the past becoming the future.

The things on my agenda include: continued unquestionable support for law enforcement agencies both state and federal; severe, harsh penalties against rapists; no prostitution; and, I like to write and create art.  So, does such an agenda mean that I have extended an open invitation to either kill or murder me?  Absolutely, by all means, do it both today and tomorrow and forever.  Although, I feel that all people will find one truth.  At three hundred and sixty-five years old, I will be living nice and comfortably.

The point in all this?  My friends, my people, anyone whom can identify with these words, or anyone who can understand these words.  Adrenaline addiction is a virtue in my life which I choose to embrace in all aspects of my life.  Whether I am painting, sitting down, sleeping, being threatened or fighting… I am always an adrenaline addict and that will never change.  At the end of the day, I was merely and adrenaline addict.  At the end of the week, I was merely an adrenaline addict.  And, at the end of life… I was merely an adrenaline addict.  Living for chastity, virginity, justice, feminity, and God.

Perspective: Beauty and Cleanliness

“Beauty and Cleanliness reveal a Wisdom in life”

Beauty.  What is it?  Beauty is the soul-mate of glory.  Just as, strength is the soul-mate of power.  Each exist within the polar relationship.  Cleanliness.  What is it?  Crucial.  Therefore, I ask.  What am I talking about?

There was once a man.  The man was beautiful, for his life was dedicated to chaste feminity and perpetual virtue.  The man looked somewhat like Cupid, at times.  The man looked somewhat like an Egyptian Pharaoh, at times.  The man hardly considered his beauty to be his own property.  The saying of that man was… don’t call me a man, I’m a feminist.  As the story goes, we find ourselves at a crucial aspect of understanding.  The veil of any one thing, conceals the substance.

There are some who say that underneath beauty is an ugly face.  I cannot say that I agree.  Actually, I teach that virtue is the essence creating beauty for its use.  Of the man himself?  Beauty came naturally, although it grew greater when accentuated by all the better little things.  Sincerity, chastity, joyousness, and insanity.  Beauty existed as, perhaps, one of the most noticeable things of the man.  And, cleanliness.  The man appeared to be clean.  His cloths were fine, his hair appeared normal, and… his breath was typically fresh.

There existed one aspect of this creation which was outstanding, or unusual.  The man was homeless.  The man appeared to live a normal life.  He attended the library and worked daily, doing both writing and a research.  He attended social areas to recreate, and talk with people.  Women talked with he, and people attempted to find he a love.  Although, the man was a satisfied celibate.  Perhaps that is why he was homeless, because he refused fornication.

My Ladies, what is the point in all this.  Please, you tell me.  Is it you whom is wisdom?  Is it I whom is not justice?  Although, I will say.  Think.  And now… hear.  Listen to thy heart and remember the ones whom you love.  Stop.  Think.  Remember.  And yes, please ask.  Are you alright today?  Is there anything concerning you?  Especially, husbands.  Because ladies, I know… It is not alright to to be honest.  I shall not frown, I shall not do anything except praise my life.  Although, if someone merely asked one question… ”How are you?  What is truly going on?”  …the entire truth would be known.

Life goes outside of the economic sphere.  Life goes in to philosophical and social spheres, as well.  Have you asked the smoker you know, “Did you just enjoy that cigarette?”  Have you asked the rich friend, “Where you satisfied when you made that last deposit?”  Did you ask the poor friend, “Does poverty fulfill you, and why?”  Did you ask yourself, “Does the light of my life correctly exault me?”  Looking for faults is merely one edge of the double edged sword.  Looking for light and security is the other edge of the double edged sword.

Perspective: Desire

One night, I was walking the street.  I was attempting to maintain a modesty about myself.  Although, I am light so my attempt was hardly modest.  A person yelled out, “What are you running from?”  Quite frankly, I was not running from anything.  I merely chose to walk, using a back-street.  I was attempting to embrace something, a place… modestly.  Although, the truth of what the man had yelled out pierced directly into my spirit.  Everybody on the streets is running from something.

I can only imagine the typical judgments: work, debt, life, death, or what-have-you.  Although, what is my answer to such a question.  What am I running from, being homeless… refusing to beg for alms.  I am running away from judgments while running toward my own.  I am a tormented artist, a master of my own right, and sold my soul a long time ago.  What-ever my soul will be when I run into it again at death, I see now.  Although, what it is in my hands… belonging to another… is torment.

I might have concluded the word at that note.  Although, I am not simply writing for myself.  I am writing for the sake that another shall see truth within herself.  Therefore I say, I am a brazen soul.  I have no regrets, only suffering and torment.  No matter how much pain I encounter, no matter what harm I suffer… I know it was entirely my fault and my own doing.  No regrets, only pain and torment.  Because I refuse sex, and I refuse the judgment of others.

Perspective: Men and Health

“A guy who does not talk to men, does.”

Life is a beautiful thing to me.  It certainly does no harm to life, that I happen to be a beautiful guy.  At least, that’s what it seems like as I go about.  I remember that day, when I signed up at Bally Total Fitness… using a fake identification card.  I remember that day, at two years.  I remember that day, at five years.  And today, I remember that day… at thirteen years.

Life is entirely illumined.  I just up and transfigured.  Whether I am a pagan or not, is not the issue.  The fact is that my face is seared with light as I embrace stars, all and every day.  I walk around and joy just erupts within me as I perpetuate the perfection I am.  That my body looks 180, and I only weigh 163, is merely the footnote.  The truth is this, at my strongest times… I was never happy.  I was in the three hundred club, fat content below the tens and above the negative ones.  I was a certified gym rat.  I was an absolute guru; I quit high school football because it got in the way of my weights.  Although… I had never succeeded in any of these things, having succeeded.

To be quite honest, I am a consecrated virgin.  Let me just let the name Athena to be mentioned, and all these fires and stones will get started on just the rite note.  Let me just say Yahweh, to close it.  Look, everyone knows I’m dead now.  So, can we continue talking?  I am a consecrated virgin.  I had always been working out, for the sake of another.  I had no other, I have never had an other.  Therefore, I had no happiness.  Only work, and hope in a thing which never existed; hope in a thing I could never see.  The only thing I could see was myself, and I had not the eyes to see me for me.

The day which arrived, transforming my personal life into a career (so to speak), is when I stopped concerning myself with my personal life (the gym and my body).  That is when I gained the life which I had been missing, cause.  I realized, Feminity is the most precious garden existing on earth because it perpetuates its self using virtue.  My entire career had had no cause, only virtue.  My entire view had merely been about me, and the attempt to create myself beautiful for the me to be.  I had not thought about what she needed.  I was merely being me.