lucasxxbrown-blog

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

Asortofsomething

I visited my mom's grave the other day, here's what I came to realize...

If I could talk to my mom again I would profusely thank her, thank who for who I am and most importantly the privilege of life I'm experiencing.

I remember the most from high school, living with just her and my brother for half of the time.

I resonate a lot with that time period. It, retrospectively, made me feel like I was a human being just working along in the system. I played sports, did relatively well in school, and sought after hobbies. I remember vividly the nights with my mom, where me and my brother would make dinner, and sit down in front of the television and watch the news. It made me feel like I was part of something better, besides myself, that it connected me to the other hearts and souls watching the same program. It angered me, too, in many ways. The media, as it is well known now, seems to have trouble with the real truth. Our society sits upon corruption and lies, like an Orwellian (or Huxley - esc) nightmare. But I cherish that time with my mom and brother. It made me stronger, feel more independent, and ready for the “real world”. We held on to love, laughter, and hope. Which.. Now that I think of it, those exact words were on a wooden sign hung above our couch.

One of the darkest, and quite honestly weirdest moments in my life sprung senior year. It was during a colder month, full of ice and snow. One night, unexpectedly, this odd sulfur smell appeared out of nowhere. We weren’t sure what to think of it, and we tried to fix it, but my mom became worried. She thought it may be toxic to stay in the house and inhale it over a long period of time. We thought we had finally gotten rid of it… until one night it returned. She woke us up, rushed us out of the house, and called the fire department. I remember sitting in her car, holding my dog, scared and worried. At this point, too, she had her third diagnosis of cancer. And there we were… the three of us (and benny) out in the cold at 2am…  Scared and confused as to why our house smelled like rotten eggs and whether it’s going to kill us or not.

Eventually, it did go away. We did get word, too, of other houses in the area experiencing the same thing.. And the city of South Portland never explained what it was. To me, I can only come to think that it was some sort of test… by universe or deity.. of will and strength.

It is they who is born and rejects the society that they came into that will flourish. A rejection shown through character, life energy, knowledge, attitude towards life, connection with self, and connection with the spiritual, may that be any deity or religion. They who see the world as a singular entity, past past and present being one, and with the future with all endless possibilities to behold. They are a stepping stone through generations, through time, being the core of the future to come. They will change the world for many by opening perspectives of extensive light. These people are love, for energy is love, and love is energy, and it is both love and suffering that truly connects us at humans, and those who understand that lead fulfilled, joyful, and profound lives.

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

I went to New York, this is what I found...

Upon entering the city, I saw a sign that said "e pluribus unum", (out of many, one), and I realized that this place is a manifest of strong levels of ego, greed, and anger. Life (nature) has been replaced by concrete and TV screens, and (silently) the people scream. What a true testament to Man's detrimental ignorance.

What I found was a people farm.

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

The Speech From My Mom’s Funeral.

Guess it makes sense to start at the beginning.

My mom was born in 1967 and grew up around Standish. She graduated from Bonny Eagle High school, and years later would find herself working at the Hannaford Corporate office in South Portland. That’s where she would meet my dad, Rick, and without the blink of an eye they were married. Soon after - my sister was born, and 6 years later I came into the picture. A year and a half later my brother, Levi, came into this world by her grace. We all lived in a big yellow house on crestview street. We rode in a white mini van; as my mom would sing Guns n roses “paradise city��. I’ll never forget the trips we took to Storyland in North Conway, when my mom would serenade us with daughtry the entire way there - and the entire way back. It was more than just a deep love for 80’s music. She was always singing and clapping along to songs like sweet home alabama - or literally anything by Adele. No matter where she went, she brought her love, laughter, and joy.

Most importantly, she brought love. While she did love peanut butter a great deal, she loved me and my siblings even more. We were all fortunate enough to grow up in a house surrounded with love; fortunate enough to have the most caring, kind, beautiful mom anyone could ask for. She was more than a mom. She was a friend, a confidant, and a teacher. My mom taught my siblings and I more than we could ever imagine. How to be be ourselves. How to be empathetic. How to be strong and brave.Most significantly, she taught not only my siblings and I - but us all - how to love. Love with every inch of your body. To spread love, wherever you go, to whoever you meet. “You have her heart,” my Aunt Dawn told me after she passed, “And she taught you how to love with all of it.”

Because of all that my mom did, my siblings and I have had a wonderful life. I’m proud of who I’ve become because of her, and I’m even more proud of my siblings. My sister, Bianca, is deeply passionate about theatre - and her cats. My brother, Levi, just got his first job and his first car. Because of my mom, we had amazing childhoods, and now we have bright futures. I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it’s God’s master plan. Maybe the universe has something of a mind of its own. No matter what it is, I approach the rest of my life with the love, energy, and values that my mom passed onto me. I encourage you to carry that same love, energy, and anything she might have taught you. Eat some peanut butter. Listen to some 80’s rock. And never forget to love, like she did, with your whole heart.

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

New Religion; Don’t be an asshole.

Throughout history, religion has been attributed to approximately 200 million deaths. That figure is a rough estimate, and whether it’s completely accurate or not isn’t important - what is important is the simple fact that religion makes people do some pretty dumb shit. 

As we move into the 21st century, less people (particularly youth) are associating with religion. To me, this can be explained by a change in the severity of death. People needed religion because death was far more inevitable. Before the modern medicine and technology of the 21st century, things like disease and famine ran rampant. Since the turn of the 19th century, average life expectancy has significantly risen; and the world population has skyrocketed. We don’t die as often anymore, and death no longer looms over our brims. This begs the question: why spend time thinking about death/the afterlife?

I personally believe that we all need some sort of religion so we stop being such assholes. If we can all agree to some set of rules, or guidelines, or ways to live our life that minimize the harm done to the rest of the world and fellow humans; we would have a better world. 

Unfortunately, many major religions have been interpreted incorrectly - which leads to people being assholes in the name of religion (with a false sense of justification). I believe that the route cause of all violence and ignorance in religion comes down to the construct of afterlife. 

When you involve the idea of afterlife in religion, you kind of make it a contest. You set guidelines for “if you do this, you go to x” and “if you do this, you go to y”. This creates an atmosphere of people who aren’t spending their lives following their religion because they care, or because they want to be better people, they are following because they are afraid of what will happen to them after they die. They spend their entire lives in fear of death. This contest also perpetuates judgement, typically onto others who either don’t follow the same religion or those who aren’t following the exact guidelines. 

The fact that most religions are organized is also a major deterrent to many people seeking guidance. Not only the time commitment, but the idea of meeting in groups seems awkward and unsettling for people (especially my generation / millennials). 

I believe in spirituality over religion. Spirituality is defined as “being concerned with the human spirit or soul”. You know that little voice in your head, reading this? How do you explain that? That, in fact, is your soul. It is the manifestation of your thoughts, feelings, and experience. A collection of everything that is truly you. 

Once I accepted my spirit / soul, I realized that I needed a way to channel my new findings. There is more to this world than we directly perceive. Reality is only a perception in which our nerve endings / senses relay information back to our brains. How can you explain dreams? Don’t they feel so real? Don’t you see, feel, smell, and experience exactly what you experience in “reality”, but in your own head? How is that possible?

Reality is manipulation. A hallucination. 

If you accept that, and don’t accept organized religion, we’re on the same page. I wanted to channel this spiritual awakening, but didn’t know how. I didn’t want to join and organized religion…

And I’m sure you don’t either. But maybe you’re realizing, you’re feeling, you’re seeing that there is more to our physical world. Maybe you’re seeking guidance, a path, an understanding...

Maybe you’re seeking enlightenment? 

Hinduism, Shamanism, and Buddhism are the “most chill” religions you will ever encounter. You can practice them at home, on your own time, at your own pace. They are religions of spirituality and peace. If you decide to become a hindu, you can also practice other religions simultaneously. 

A bit on…

Hinduism (don’t particularly need to read it all) 

Hindus believe in a one, all-pervasive Supreme Being who is both immanent and transcendent, both Creator and Unmanifest Reality.

Hindus believe in the divinity of the four Vedas, the world's most ancient scripture, and venerate the Agamas as equally revealed. These primordial hymns are God's word and the bedrock of Sanatana Dharma, the eternal religion.

Hindus believe that the universe undergoes endless cycles of creation, preservation and dissolution.

Hindus believe in karma, the law of cause and effect by which each individual creates his own destiny by his thoughts, words and deeds.

Hindus believe that the soul reincarnates, evolving through many births until all karmas have been resolved, and moksha, liberation from the cycle of rebirth, is attained. Not a single soul will be deprived of this destiny.

Hindus believe that divine beings exist in unseen worlds and that temple worship, rituals, sacraments and personal devotionals create a communion with these devas and Gods.

Hindus believe that an enlightened master, or satguru, is essential to know the Transcendent Absolute, as are personal discipline, good conduct, purification, pilgrimage, self-inquiry, meditation and surrender in God.

Hindus believe that all life is sacred, to be loved and revered, and therefore practice ahimsa, noninjury, in thought, word and deed.

Hindus believe that no religion teaches the only way to salvation above all others, but that all genuine paths are facets of God's Light, deserving tolerance and understanding.

 Buddhism

The Four Noble Truths of Buddhism are stated in simple terms as; 

Suffering, pain, and misery exist in life

Suffering arises from attachment to desires

Suffering ceases when attachment to desire ceases

Freedom from suffering is possible by practicing the Eightfold Path

Shamanism 

Shamanism is rooted in an ancient worldview in which everything is seen as having life, or spirit, or a spiritual dimension. A rock, a tree, the wind--all have spirit and consciousness, though not exactly like human consciousness.

We have a natural connection with the consciousnesses around us. By deepening that connection we grow in power and joy.

//

There are no commitments to these religions. There is no fear, shame, or ignorance. If you feel as if you don’t to agree with every aspect of a religion, you are perfectly entitled to pick and choose exactly what works for you; and follow that.

If I am to leave you with any advice to live a better life, follow a path in life. Set goals. Investigate the mysterious. The world, physical and metaphysical, hold endless amounts of adventure, opportunity, and knowledge. Open your mind, expand your horizons, and soon you might just…

understand.

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

Are you your parents?

Recently, I was with my grandmother, and we sat next to each other facing my dad and grandfather. She leaned over to me and said “Look at that, they’re carbon copies of each other.”

What she said infatuated my interest in the idea, and later, this idea would continue to manifest itself in the back of my brain. I thought about how similar my brother is to my dad, or how similar my sister was to my mom. One friend in particular told me that “My dad drank, smoked weed, and did coke. I’m doing that, but no further”. I started to ponder just how much - and what exact - information is passed along through genetic DNA. Is it possible that experiences are passed down? That through one way or another, some people receive more DNA similar to one parent vs the other? We’re told we’re 50/50… but is that fully true?

My theory is that everyone can be separated into three categories when considering their “Carbon Copy” status. You’re either; 1. Neither and Lost, 2, One and ignorant, or 3, Both and secure.

By 1; “Neither and Lost”, I mean that there are some people who end up (mostly) like neither of their parents. Not only this, they’re lost - they don’t really know who they are, and they sort of “wander” through life. These kinds of people unfortunately and generally don’t live the most happiest, fulfilling lives.*

By 2; “One and ignorant”, I mean that these kinds of people are in fact close “Carbon Copies” of their parent of the same gender (I specify same gender because I believe that there is a unique, strong bond between this parent and child). They are often caught up in themselves, their own lives, and their own bubble.*

By 3; “Both and secure”, I mean that these people are a harmonious mixture of the spirit, thoughts, and likenesses of both parents. They are closest to sharing the 50/50 split between mother and father. I believe that the majority of these people are any middle children, with a specific concentration of the middle child of three.*

The middle child of three is directly in between one sibling being associated with the mother and one with the father. This is especially true if the middle child has one sister and one brother. The gender of the middle child does not matter. 

To be clear, I’m not trying to put the other two categories of people down. While I think that these categories of people may end up not being the happiest / best people, everyone has potential to become a live a happier life. I guess the point of it all is that if you want to start living a better life, mentally, a good step is to fully realize who you are.

Once you can just understand what category you fit into, there’s a first step. If you’re a 1 or 2, you can realize that you should make some changes in your life to be more happy. If you’re already a 3, you can stay there. Or, if you’re a 3, you can use your position to expand your state of consciousness and help others improve their lives as well.

In seeking to understand this phenomenon on a broader scale, I reached out to some friends and asked them to answer some questions about their same gender parent. Below is each question with a short description of the average findings. I had 10 people answer.

1. The majority of people were about 15-20 with parents about 40-50.

2. Most people thought that their SGP (Same Gender Parent) and them were alike, or pretty close.

3. Most people also agreed that they are pretty similar to their SGP from when they were their age. 

4.  The majority of people didn’t think they were a Carbon Copy of their SGP.

5. 80% people believed that other people could be Carbon Copies of their SGP, but 60% of those people thought nobody is exactly alike - only close. 

6. There was a 50/50 split between people who didn’t want to become like their SGP at all and people who wanted to in some (but not all) ways. 

From this, I’ve concluded that the idea of being a “Carbon Copy” is off-putting to people. Nobody wants to be exactly like their SGP. But, most people are a lot like their SGP. Going forward, I’d like to ask more questions regarding the idea of someone who is like neither of their parents. Being exactly like your parent is undesirable, but is being like neither as well?

*These statements are purely opinion and based off anecdotal evidence that I have no means to actually back up. Please take everything I say with a grain of salt.

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

Inhumane Peace

We, as humans, are moving towards a collective higher state of consciousness. I know, at first, you might not be able to wrap your head around that. But if you begin to think of your mind not just as your mind, but as the mind of your time, you start to look at humanity as a whole - not just our point in time. 

By mind “of your time”, I mean that your brain is currently existing in the 20th / 21st century. You are as developed as you are because of the societal circumstances you cannot control. Your mind, and (just about) all other human’s minds around this time, are just about the same. A thousand years ago, however, the collective of human minds were much different. Different from now, but still unified in their similarities. 

Over the past few thousands of years, humans have been evolving. From simple minded cavemen - to complex brains of nuance and thought. We began, more or less, as creatures. Animals, really. Primal beings. But as society grew, we grew as well, moving away from our primalistic tendencies. Today, however, we still hold on to many primal instincts. 

Our desire for sex is a powerful, deeply embedded primal urge. Our craving for meat is one as well. Less noted is our attraction to fire, which has morphed into an attraction for machines. I theorize that our love for music comes from the rhythm of sex, and the rhythm of our own hearts beating. Almost everything we do in life today can be traced back to our animalistic ways. 

One of the most striking and important urges is our need to kill. As early humans, resources were scarce, and only the strong and able survived. Territories began to be fought over, and as society developed, our primal need to kill morphed into war. 

Most of what I’m saying is a large overgeneralization, but it’s true. If I had the knowledge to get into specifics, I would, but I would bore you. Please bear with me.

Peace is utterly inhuman. We began as primal, meat eating, fire loving, killing hungry creatures. Somewhere along the lines, though, we changed. It’s commonly accepted that war should be avoided. The Bible itself commands that “thou shalt not kill”. 

But World peace is no longer a pipe dream. 

The idea of “world peace” comes from a unified world, a world of stable and significant communication. It’s only now, the 20th and 21st century, that we have sustained significant communication. It’s only now that war and violence has been relatively concentrated. 

When most people think of “World Peace”, it’s a fantasy. It’s a silly idea, a joke even. I remember for years, as a child, when my family members were asked what they wanted for Christmas, they would joke and say “World Peace”. 

Is it such a joke anymore? 

If the root of violence is lack of resources, the joke is (or should be) up. We have no reason to kill each other anymore. It’s as simple as that. Man created violence, man can solve it. 

The problem is that the root of violence isn’t just a lack of resources. Human emotion plays a pivotal role. 

I theorize that the human brain is separated into two overall states of thought: 

Primal (killing each other, fire, meat)

And

Divinistic (Peace, complex emotion, evolution of the conscious)

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

Born and glued to a screen.

Reality for some, fortunately not all.

I remember when I was six or seven, my uncle gave me a Gameboy for Christmas. I spent hours and hours playing Monster Truck and Hot wheels games.

I remember one day (about six or seven) when my brother and I decided to spend hours throwing Lincoln Logs, yes, small wooden logs, at each other in warfare fashion. 

I remember having a PC in my room when I was eight, and exploring everything from looking at my house on Google maps to visiting some websites I was just a bit too innocent for. 

Children are being given iPads and iPhones at the age or four or five. At peak molding age, they are staring, intensely, inches away from a screen. This is doing harm to their eyes, mental state, and overall health in the short and long run.

I was influenced by the Silicon Shift.; but not as intensely. This shift is the period of time from the 60’s until now, microchips and motherboards have shaped and molded our culture. We hold electronic cards full of money in our pockets; not the mention the paradox of holding unlimited information a click away. The internet has fostered social subgroups, cults, unhealthy relationships and despair to many. 

We live in this amassed, festering and unnatural time known as the Digital Age. Nobody seems to scream. Nobody seems to say anything. We blindly move along, agree, and accept our technological advances in the name of profit to society. But who has stopped to question us? Who has stopped to truly think about the impact? Not only to the environment, but to our collective tapestry of minds that is not only our generation but future to come?

When the lights turn off, we are alone. Then we cannot Google how to start a fire. Then we cannot use our phones as a compass.  We have changed, but not irreparably. We can return to a better state. One lack of depression, anxiety, and mental health issues.

I found myself downloading an app on my phone to reduce the amount of blue light that is filtered through my screen. My eyes sting whenever I have to turn it off. I’m not the only one. I’m not the only one who feels like social media is a big game, just a way to compare ourselves to others. There’s a reason why the rate of depression and suicide is skyrocketing with teens. They are becoming lost in void of the net, and we must grab their hands and hold on tight.

We must reform. Take a step back. Spend more time within nature, within ourselves, away from the screen. Time writing, drawing, exercising, exploring. 

I remember, and I thank my father for when as a kid he would implement “screen break time.” I always dreaded the idea of break time, but once it came, I realized just how freeing it was. I wish he had done it.

They told my mom my brother didn’t need to learn how to spell when he was in middle school because auto-check does it for him.

“The core of mans' spirit comes from new experiences.” 

― Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild

These experiences cannot come from a screen. They cannot come from entertainment. They come from real world, hands on, in your face interactions. The true creed, the essence of man; to live harmoniously with nature, himself, and his society. This, though, cannot be achieved if he is not properly educated of the reality of life. The gritty, dirty, uncomfortable and painful reality we stand attest to. But that is his journey. That is is way; to contrast the pleasure from pain, to increasingly open his perspective on what he might feel in the world in hope to enlighten himself.

We spend countless hours entertaining ourselves with games and television and gain nothing. What do you truly get out of watching (the majority) of television? We used to be a nation of producers; and now we are one of consumers. Entertainment through modern technology is a plague to our society, and the remedy is creation. 

If you don’t feel creative, take a step back from your screens. Spend more time outside, more time cooking. More time drinking water, more time exercising. More time taking care of things (especially yourself) and more time volunteering and helping others. 

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

The Maine Woods, Thoughts Loosely Constructed in Train of Thought.

Part One: Casco Bay Conundrum

Casco Bay has many beauties, like Peaks Island. Peaks island itself is a magical, mysterious, inherently dangerous place. Two cultures exist on Peaks; the Square and the Wild. The square are tame, old, and quiet. Generally white (most of Maine is white, unfortunately). They lack culture and fun. The fun are the Wild. The Wild are young, ambitious, and not surprisingly - but most importantly - stupid. The Square stick to what they know - driving their golf carts to the expensive restaurant by the water. The Wild live like they’re about to die; driving their cheap (about to fall apart) golf carts; screaming down dirt roads with 3 too many people piled on the back. They seek entertainment. Sometimes in throwing bottles, sometimes in climbing on the roof of a moving car. But, as old as civilization itself, we as humans hold on to ritual. 

Ritual, for the Wild on Peaks, are the outrageous fires they construct in Battery Steele. Anything from chairs to entire box spring mattresses are likely to be burned at the stake. The Steele is a large, concrete, hallway like tunnel. Several small rooms line it. It’s about 15 feet high and 20 feet across, with musty dirt floors. Rooms contain anything from broken glass to remnants of satanic rituals. The police on the island are limited, and really just don’t care. 

The Square far outnumber the Wild. Not much really happens, but when it does, it’s a sight to see. The Wild live life to the fullest. This is something the Square could do; but choose not to. The Square sit inside in the comfort of their homes and experience next to nothing. They fill their minds with mindless entertainment. They have no desire to explore, expand their horizons, or change their perspectives. They crave security both mentally and physically. Why is any of this important? If they’re happy with their lives, don’t bother them? The problem is that this kind of happiness is ignorant. Ignorant happiness. Their minds are closed from the outside world. Rarely do they care, think of, or even understand the or state of the world. They care about their issues only and themselves only. This ignorance is dangerous.

We, as humans, have an ethical, moral, primal obligation to help other humans. We all experience the same feelings; love and hate; despair and hunger. At any level of privilege, it is our duty to help those less privileged. Privilege can be described as the circumstances in which every human life comes into. Everyone was just like you at one point; a soul born into a place we have no control over. None of us choose where. None of us choose when. But all of us are born into cycles of more or less privilege (privilege can generally be interchanged with wealth). 

A study was done that examined families wealth status over the course of 1000 years. Every family that was poor, stays poor. Just about every family that was middle class 1000 years ago is middle class now. The rich stay rich. The poor stay poor. We are born into cycles. Born into wealth classes, which we usually stay in. These wealth classes generally determine the privilege one has. More wealth, more privilege. 

We don’t choose anything when we are born. How can you look at another human, another soul, who also chose nothing (but has less), and not help?

If the majority of people’s happiness came from helping people, we would live in a better world.

Part Two: Bag of Bones

I’m back now. When I last ended, my father had called me for dinner. After swinging a chicken sausage around on a stick for a while I sat down and ate. My brother is fishing again, to no surprise. He continues to ask me to accompany him, but I decline. I like spending time with him.  I like spending time in silence. But something about fishing with someone rubs me the wrong way. Fishing is solitude, silence, and patience. It could even be compared to meditation. This should be time for self reflection. Utter loneliness. Loneliness is seen as this sad, pouty thing. In reality, solitude can truly improve your mind. Meditation improves your mind. When it comes down to it, it isn’t weird to want to be alone.

That being said, you shouldn't be alone all of the time. Social interaction has its benefits. But there is something so peaceful, serene, beautiful and divine about spending time in your own head. No thought with the outside world. Nothing to worry about, nothing to do. You, alone, with your thoughts. At the end of the day, that’s all that we are… thoughts. Electromagnetic pulses through a pink squishy blob. Brains control our bodies, but what describes the “back of your head”? When you have sleep paralysis, you can see everything, but you can’t move. What is being “there”? What is being “conscious”? If “real feelings” can be manipulated by things that aren’t real, what is reality? What is real?

Thousands of veterans with severed limbs account feeling “ghost limbs”. Go ahead, look it up, it’s real. Even though their, say, arm isn’t there… they sometimes feel as if it is. Their brains forget that they don’t have an arm and those feelings return. If your leg is attached to you - you’d consider it alive. But it’s not. Our legs, arms, everything, are simply bones wrapped in meat covered with liquid. Nothing is “alive”. Are we?

Part Three: Survival?

The human brain has evolved some physically - but mostly mentally. Our great ancestors had similar, but differently shaped brains. Their minds were simple. The focused on food, sex, and shelter. Main goal: don’t die. For thousands of years, the human brain had one main goal; survive. 

Why? People died all the fucking time. Medicine wasn’t shit. You could cut your foot and die from infection within days. Plagues killed millions upon millions. Food was scarce. While this wasn’t a reality for all, it was for most. Our minds functioned differently. 

Fast forward to now. Your average first world human, for generations on generations, never needed to survive. From birth to death, death was never an “in your face” kind of thing. These generations were all born into hospitals; places of care and security. Then, they were brought home, fed well and cared for. They were given love, nourishment, and anything else you could think they would need. As they got older, they attended school. They spent 12 years of their lives in a safe and calm environment, learning. Yes, they might have had a health issue here or there.  But our modern medicine prevented them from ever directly facing death. They never had to worry about food, shelter, hunting, gathering, anything that our simple-minded great ancestors had to. Our constant thoughts shape the inner-workings of the brain. Generations since the 21st century have been shaped by thoughts of utter security; we always have our guard down. Food, shelter, and sex are all far too easily accessible. We don’t have to think about these things anymore. 

We are losing the ability to survive. To be human. What are we becoming?

Part 4: Whatever

Am I going insane? Probably. But nobody cares. You know why nobody cares? Because everyone is fucking insane. Everyone has at least one mental issue one way or another. None of us are truly sane anymore. What is normal? “What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” - Charles Adams. What is sanity? Who determines sanity? Is there a test you can take? Fuck. There probably is. But are all tests accurate? What if I take two separate tests and get two varying results? 

Sanity cannot be determined. We are all insane one way or another. Is this a bad thing though?

Mildly. We are all mildly insane. So, what does this mean? What does this prove? First, everyone needs to give everyone else a break. Cut judgement. Cut ignorance. Try to understand that everyone you meet has a life, feelings, family, possessions, and sorrows just like yours. What feelings do you seek to experience? Joy, kindness, forgiveness. Everyone else seeks these as well. Remember that we all feel the same - if you don’t want to be sad, why would you want someone else to?

---

I’m less high now. Being high is such a beautiful thing. I almost didn’t even want to write about it. It feels…”taboo”. Getting high has been part of the counterculture since its origins. The counterculture has often been referred to as the “anti war hippies”. These hippies were right. Right about everything. These hippies were the not only the peak, but the pinnacle of American culture. Their anti-war and anti-destruction of the earth ideas were spot on. Best of all, they were so fucking passionate about it. They all lived such humble, free lives. They weren’t poisoned by the food they ate. Technology didn’t corrupt their minds. They were spiritually awoken and fought for what was right (including the civil rights movement). The problem is that this counterculture was deemed “dangerous to the inner workings of society as a whole”. Many older people at the time didn’t understand. The hippies said, “Guys, look. America is pretty fucked up. But not too fucked up. We’re at a point of return. Let’s slowly start changing some stuff for the better”. 

Unfortunately the Nixons of America denounced them. They saw change as a threat to their way of life. They also realized that their control was threatened. Nixon types, Nixon himself were ultimately severely ignorant.  Ignorance fueled by ego and greed. Fueled by an undying lust for power. This ignorance began the war on drugs. The failing, idiotic “war” on drugs. Let me be clear; opioids do not expand your mind. They are a specifically designed substance for easy, immediate happiness. Not to mention the deeply addictive trait of these absolutely monstrous drugs. Do you know what they do? They release serotonin, your “happy” chemical. You know what they don’t do? Get you high! People will misconstrue this rush of feelings from opioids as a high. You know what gets you actually high? 

Cannabis. But, also meth. As well as huffing paint. But - things like meth or paint are a synthetic high with devastating consequences. These chemicals were created by a man in a lab. They aren’t natural. You know what is natural? Cannabis. To be clear; just because something is natural doesn't automatically make it safe. My point is to suggest that this natural high is safer and doesn’t fuck with your body and brain. Cannabis is natural; so are humans. We, like cannabis, come from the earth. Don’t forget we are still creatures of this planet! We are nothing but highly sophisticated monkeys. For thousands of years during our evolution, we were pretty basic. We dealt with survival over all else. But around the 21st century something changed. Modern Medicine. We became so good at keeping stupid people alive that we significantly slowed down natural selection. And what does that create? More stupid people reproducing, and a stupider population. You know who gains from a stupid population? The puppet masters of society. A society that has corrupted us.

--

Suicide. Suicide doesn't make any sense. Many (most) animals don't commit suicide. Most humans, for a long time, didn't want to kill themselves. Personally, I’ve struggled with thoughts of suicide. I’ve never been diagnosed with depression. Depression is...unnatural? Is that the right word? My point is that animals don’t generally experience depression. Depression in mass amounts began around the 50’s. The 50’s. What an interesting crossroad in American culture. Possibly the most important. The morph between the 50’s and 60’s, that is. But what happened around the 50’s that made everyone want to kill themselves? Actually, maybe it wasn’t the 50’s. 90’s maybe? The humans (in America) peaked as a species in the 60’s. Have we gotten to a point somewhere beyond natural evolution? I theorize that we have began to evolve around society itself, and no longer the earth. 

We are evolving around ourselves. Death and survival are no longer a part of our lives. We’re becoming less naturally human and more internalized to society. Our everyday problems and issues are completely insignificant compared to that of the past. My great ancestors biggest problem was finding food in loom of death; mine is forgetting to put my dishes away. At the end of the day we’re so caught up in our obsolete issues that we forget how to truly live. How to feel. Our emotions are being warped and fucked with. What even is the main goal of life? To be happy? What even is happiness? What is emotion? Chemical balances and imbalances in your brain? Aren’t we all just energy? How do you describe a feeling? Aren’t happiness and sadness just chemicals released by your brain? Is anyone happy all of the time? Is that even possible? Is the point of life to just be alive? 

My father calls for me. I’m still in the tent. I should probably go. 

Part 5: An river end

I’m sitting by the river. Sounds of babbling rocks and the fresh smell of earth make me feel at home. Sleeping in the wild, waking up with the air we were meant to breathe; it’s a beautiful and peculiar thing. Everything just feels right. The wind brushes the trees, bushes, and my hair. The water moves slow and methodically, calm, with a purpose. Soon, the dam will release and the shore will rise. Will I rise as well? My spiritual journey is still in the making. I’m not only trying to find myself, but make myself. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I need to stop looking for who I am, accept who I am, and just do the things that make me happy. It’s hard, though. Making yourself happy; when your own joy comes from the light of others. I am the most happy when others around me are happy. Even if I’m doing something that bothers me, as long as the ones around me are content, so am I. Some things downright cause me utter sadness. But at the same time, I’m happy. I’m at a constant state of war in my own head. 

What do I do?

[lucasxxbrown-blog]

Desire, Pain and Ponies.

A non-fictional short story by Lucas Brown.

Light at the end of the dock? The statue? The bald bird? Was this my American Dream? 

It did feel like a dream...

In April of 2019, my father was invited by NASA to photograph the launch of a rocket to resupply the ISS station. It all happened on an island called Chincoteague. (Chink-o-teeg).

It’s referred to as “Pony island”, apparently. The island is well known for two things; the Wallops flight facility that lies adjacent across the bay, and being home to a community of wild ponies. I didn’t know much about the island before I left. I had scanned satellite imagery before embarking and, to my luck, realized a massive wildlife reserve encompassed northern portion of the island. I wanted to go off into those woods the moment I saw them.

My father, brother and I drove about five hours from Portland, Maine, until we reached New York City. We stopped for lunch, pulling into “Liberty Diner”, a joint closeby to the Statue of Liberty. I decided to have a chicken and cheese sandwich (not the best idea). After eating, we drove to nearby Flag Plaza so my father could photograph the big green lady herself. I was indifferent to the photo op, and stayed in the car. 

A few more hours of driving passed. While passing through Washington D.C, the roads and surrounding landscaped plateaued. We veered off of the main road as the sun loomed above the horizon. We drove through tall grass and old houses, on a winding road, while the mango-orange light of the sun blanketed the atmosphere. I put on Frank Ocean. It was a quaint, relaxing calm before the storm.

The sun, as well as the light, disappeared with a different corner. A barbed-wire topped fence, to my left, ran alongside a field of satellite dishes. We had made it. Our rental SUV took us over a long, relatively straight bridge that gapped the channel. The minute I saw the little downtown of Chincoteague, I knew I was just another mouse in the tourist trap. 

It wasn’t anything big, or particularly special. Out of a string of 2-star seaside motels, one became our temporary home. The first night, I stepped out and smoked a joint. It was cool, and the wind howled. The entire hotel was composed of outdoor, wooden walkways, all organized in a rectangular manner. I wandered around, until the ground level deck lead me to a connected dock. It was T-Shaped, and sat in the velvet midnight, surrounded by fast-moving water. Yellow orbs, lanterns, poked along the perimeter. Stoned, I walked down the dimly lit corridor. The wind was at my back, pushing me to continue my journey. I was in awe. 

At the far left end of the dock, I stood and stared into the immense darkness. Out of nothingness, I began to sing a song in a language I didn’t know, a language that didn’t really exist. Humming, murmuring it until it grew louder; channeling the depth of my subconscious. I was born a gemini, an air sign. I knew that this moment, this place and time, was exactly what I was supposed to be experiencing. I felt my connection to the Gaian spirit, as the gale sang softly through me intuitively. I had never felt anything like it before. An initiation. 

The next morning, I puked up every bit of my stomach. It was the damn chicken and cheese from the day before. Even though my stomach was empty afterwards, I didn’t feel hungry. My brother asked if I wanted to go longboarding around the island. I figured this would be the only chance I had, until the launch the next day, to go off into the woods. Taking my camera bag, I said yes.

We skated three miles until my brother decided to go back to the motel. I continued on. It was an odd little beachside town. Not a lot of money in the area, only scattered (and run down) small businesses. But the colors were bright, that I enjoyed. I skated another two miles until reaching the reserve.

The reserve was quiet. Filled with tall, lush and green trees. I was exploring an area filled with other people, and I wanted to be completely alone. I continued to skate north, until I had to walk. I walked another mile, along a dirt path, parallel to the coastline. I went about a mile, and was searching for a sign to tell me it was time to stop. I kept going… until a bald eagle swooped down from a tree branch only ten feet in front and above me. I stepped off the path and found a lone tree. I wish I knew its species. 

I sat under the tree and smoked a joint. I reached into my camera bag and opened a container of chocolate dusted cheerios. The chocolate was infused with THC. I ate the entire (big) bag, and two medical grade (THC infused) chocolates. All without knowing their THC content. All on an empty stomach. 

I’ve always been one to push myself, to find new challenges. Been one for trying to kill, or dissolve, my ego (the enemy, it seems). One always open to change, especially that of my consciousness. For me, in the moment, this was it. What better way to open another doorway of metaphysical realms but to open the next door of 11-hydroxy metabolite, the most potent form psychoactive cannabis? I was ready to learn. To see. To be taught, to grow and develop from what I was doing to myself. I didn’t care about having a good time, or enjoying anything whatsoever. This was not about pleasure. In fact, it was the opposite. It was a mental masochistic choice. 

After consuming my copious dose, I left. Walked back down the dirt path, and skated once I hit concrete. Once I neared the motel, the sychinicities in space-time began to pile up. I walked up the stairs, unlocked our door, and thought about what to do. I was immensely baked, even though it was a short time from when I had dosed. I wanted to be outside, so I stepped onto the porch. I wanted to be inside, so I went inside. Then, my high became uncomfortable. I wanted to be inside… but also outside. So I laid on the floor, on the brink of the doorway, and listened to the myriad of ocean birds squalling and squawking.  

My concept of time was completely blown. The only conscious idea I was in was the moment. My father and brother returned simultaneously. I was now in my bed, trying to keep calm, trying to hold onto any drop of sanity. Miraculously, I held a conversation. They told me I looked sick, that I had a “greenish” coloration of my skin. I was asked if I wanted to join them driving mopeds around the island. I was worried I would ruin their fun if I said no. That they really wanted me to come, and that staying in the hotel “sick” would ruin the trip. So I agreed.

After leaving the motel room, the first few steps down the stairs were a complete weightless energy vortex. I was barley connected to my nervous system, let alone the physical components attached to it. Right then and there, I should have turned around and gone back inside. I was still on an empty stomach. I hadn’t consumed any water, even though I tried, my mental state wouldn’t let me. I had tried to chew a granola bar, but my mouth was so dry I couldn’t do it. But I had convinced myself that I could walk it off. So walk we did. 

We walked about a mile until reaching the moped rental store. I was quiet the whole time. Upon arrival, it hadn’t worn off. But it had leveled down, so I thought I could fight through. We stood inside the store. It was hot, bright, and cramped. I pointed out the moped I wanted. My brother and father were standing in front of me, with the attendant at the desk. I began to feel nervous, and further away from my body than I had ever been. I was hungry, thirsty, and only functioning off THC ladent cheerios.

This is from what my father told me afterwards, as I don’t remember much. Standing in front of me and looking back, he asked me a question. I didn’t (couldn’t) respond. I gave a blank stare. He asked again, confused. I proceeded to pass out and fall to the ground. I fell hard. The moment I hit the floor I instant relief and immense fatigue. Apparently I almost took out a merchandising rack on the way down. Kind of would have been funnier if I did.

My brother bent down to my aid. He told me it “looked like I was having a seizure”, that my “eyes were rolling in the back of my head.” Still on the floor, my eyes half open and shut, I heard the ocean birds cawing, as if they were flying in circles above my head. There were no birds. 

 I can’t remember how long it took me, but I got up. The man working in the store was quite friendly. They helped me outside and he brought a chair for me to sit in. My father took off running, ran back to the motel where the car was parked. I hadn’t said anything yet. While waiting, I tried to think. About where I was, what I was doing. What was going on. But nothing came to mind. I was still present tense, the blessing and curse that it was. Higher than I have ever been. My brother stood next to me. He was relatively content. He tried asking questions, but I couldn’t muster to say much. We watched cars go by. Finally, my father arrived. When I entered the car, he told me we were going to a “quick care” unit on the island. I protested, but I was in no state to make any decisions. 

He asked me what I had took. At this point, he knew of my cannabis use. He knew that I would occasionally take edibles, and that this might be something along those lines. I told him it was “CBD gummies” that must have been bad. When we got to the hospital, he forced me to take a urine test. I don’t remember peeing in a cup, which is weird. As we were waiting for the results, I told him I had accidentally taken THC gummies instead of CBD. I wasn’t sure how to explain to my dad what I had eaten, that I had no idea what milligram they were, that nothing I told him would make sense. I was still baked and out of it. 

So I just said “I took nine.” 

He wasn’t very happy with that. Or any of the decisions I made. He later found the other two joints I had and flushed them down the toilet. Kept going on and on about how I could have passed out on the moped. He was right. But something, some metaphysical force, kept me off those mopeds, and with the birds instead. After the hospital, we went back to the motel. I threw up again, and thankfully afterwards managed to eat. My dad was considering going home right then and there, but I assured him I just needed rest. 

The next morning, thankfully, my dad decided to stay. He let my brother and I go to a different moped rental store, and only let me rent a tricycle so I “wouldn’t tip over.” My brother and I scooted around the island while my father prepared for the launch. At 3, or maybe 4, we got on the boat that would take us out to see the launch. Only it took us to the far, beachy end of the wildlife reserve. I sat between limbs of wood, both belonging to the land and the sea. I took my shoes off and stared at the pulsing shore. I still wasn’t sure how to feel. The other spectators in our group began to get louder, and I looked up. The massive rocket took off over the baby blue on dark blue horizon. And then we went back. 

I wish I could say we just drove home, but my purgatory wasn’t over yet. There isn’t really any point getting into what happened between then and when I got home. But I didn’t enjoy myself, mostly due to my bodies own issues, and issues with the food I was consuming. In one piece, though, I made it home. 

If I had decided to not eat what I had, I wouldn’t be writing this. We would have rented mopeds that day, and the second day. Still would have got on the boat and seen the launch. Still would have gone to Washington D.C on our way home. But all of that would have come and gone and been eventually forgotten. It would have been without a story or potent memory to hold onto… if I didn’t eat those cheerios. 

Although at some level I regret what happened, I don’t wish it any other way. I did exactly what I set out to do. I reset my consciousness as fully as I had anticipated. It definitely could have gone better if I had chosen to stay in the motel. I may have had consequences, may have had to throw myself through the ringer… but pain is growth. 

Also, I hate ponies now.