Tag Archives: freedom

The Spectator



You lighted the match

I inhaled you in as if you had been reborn as the lingering swirls of smoke floating from the flame-tipped incense sitting on the bedside table

While we sat consumed by the sentient darkness of substance billowing from beginning to end in and around our heads and enveloping my spirit

The room lay crowded of these jealous loners with their drifting extensions turning into little ghost dancers that veiled our space within my illuminated nebula

As I, The Spectator, perceived bursting bright sparks of color that stimulated my humanistic animation of awareness into a series of shadows and aromas

My senses continuously manipulating the meanings of (in)sanity while replacing recent musings to help highlight the desires residing beneath the hazy surfaces

You are here

We confronted the distorted facades of mercy through the minutes of time, acting as one soul together to escape the labyrinth of this universal divide

While connected, we forget to suffer but not merely as a defiant act of existence, we LIVE creating and changing nature to distort our sight and alter this godless transcendence

All of the while being overshadowed by the face of god hanging on the wall with his tick-tock ticking and buzzes of shrilling announcements of opinions chiming in

Little ditties of knowledge dictating the role to play during the hours of our daily lives, if only to help us understand that there is no escaping the fluidity of blood

Knowing that the body and the mind follow the soul through the discussions of self and continue to travel through the spaces of being to the heart

You are me

We willfully remain attached to the weight of the World however, finding solace within our effervesced embrace of arms and legs, heat and skin

Ignoring the sneering gestures of jealousies and misunderstandings, the many masks that can appear even from those who emphasize friendship and solidarity

But we claim each other through this built up intensity of psyche to provide each self with the layers of the emotional responses available to the soul and the body

Offering anything and everything to one another and creating our own power to pass out to the rest of this fickle place of one moment versus the next or, one person’s thoughts versus our own

We choose our fate by escaping it all within this shielding entwinement of essence floating from the heat of my passions to You as we burn together to flame the torch, turning this World blue one blaze at a time

I am grateful for the last 500 years ❤

Found You


Happy Wednesday! Here is a rough recording (cellphone mics for the win!) of a song that I wrote called Found You. Enjoy ❤


New Song Clip


hey everyone, thank you for listening to getscarce! we added a clip of what’s to come and we’re excited to share it! We have a show this Saturday and it would mean a lot to us to hear your feedback. Have a great week!


❤ Muse

To die for our freedoms


To die for our freedoms
What a damn conundrum!
Of willing participants offering their heads for stacks of receipts
Little pieces of paper more powerful than life could afford, displaying out
Barcodes ending in the bold: The End
Another number scanned through by jagged lasers flashing in a bloody red
Checking off the last box on the chore-list and hiring the gardeners to plant fate and grow fields of strawberries
The most profitable crop known to man
Each weak seed plucked from the soil and forgotten
Never learning how to grow old and juicy:
A fulfilling plumpness of tasty satisfaction, wanting touch, to be eaten willingly, those
Finding religion in the sensual pressing on lips and being awarded the flavor caressed in mouth
A strawberry for a life who doesn’t want to die but to live until living has been enough
One by one, or however connected throughout those should be
The little receipts become pages in novels, thin sheets of memories kept in history to beg for understanding
Describing the time and the place of each printing of ink
When monsters become heroes because it’s easier to believe
But the harder reality only validates that violence creates the evils of mind and the many faces of man; sets the theme for the future plans ahead
So why must one fight for freedoms of life; gifts of ordinary ideals worthy of battles that vary from the most opportune prize?
To be free is to live but to die to be free without living at all doesn’t seem like the rational response to anything threatening
Or awarding devils mercy as they hold out skeletal hands in wanting:
Either complete surrender or the key to the soul.

I am grateful for a day of exploring with good friends. ❤



Today, I woke up contemplating freedom. What does it really mean? Are we free if we can afford to pay off all of our debts?
Is someone free, who decides to quit his/her job/family and become a nomad?
Or, are we only ever free in death; no longer exhausted by the trials of being mortal and flesh?

Can the word “freedom” take on a personification of itself? We salute the flag in America to proudly honor those who have died for our freedoms. So now we are forced to worship the flag for people unknown to all of us individuals? We are taught a ritual to worship freedom, losing the freedom to salute those in honor, the way we would choose. The word “freedom” has multiple meanings for each of us; depending on family, situation, country, religion, demographic, etc. If I were to make a stand and suggest that the flag never be saluted again, would I then, be taking away another person’s freedom?

Is a person who is free, or one who experiences freedom, ultimately happy? For the nomad wanderer, does the thought of freedom lie within the decisions that are based on a moment’s notice? Is the nomad happy? Or, is he merely only choosing a different life because his definition of living is different than my idea of living?

I’m not necessarily afraid of the bounds and shackles used to make a person feel their loss of “freedom.” I am more concerned with the censorship of voice, of heart. So, what exactly am I afraid of?

Is freedom just a concept to help us remember fear? Without freedom, we have the fear of what our judges, our “gods” would decide for us; as our fate is determined by men and women who also have their own ideas about what freedom is. With freedom, are we constantly afraid of losing it?

Moreover, how does one become free within the realms of a time, or a place, where it is just not possible? Am I merely free when someone can define me as such? Am I free if I claim that I am?

For me, freedom more closely resembles something within me; a state of mind. I am shackled to societal standards and debts but my mind is FREE to explore anything that I can imagine. I can conjure up any idea and then stitch it into the lives of other minds.

I guess freedom means to me, probably what it means to everybody else. An idea/concept that is limitless in every aspect.

What do you think?

I am grateful to have the tools I need to explore my Freedom to its fullest. ❤


Sociopathic Romeo


There is a saying that “you’ll never die if a writer loves you.”

Do I lose the competition if I can only describe the monster living in you?
The devil in disguise, the master thief that broke  into my heart, my soul,
Forced himself in and then locked the door to anyone else.
A sociopathic Romeo, who loved and hated all the same.
Tainted by the beast, I feel branded by evil;
My tattoo of remembrance that has forever changed my life.
The last time that I saw your face, could you possibly claim to be confused?
You couldn’t remember the baseball bat or the bruises you left hell,
I don’t even remember it all.
Except now my first waking thoughts result in terror;
An unmistakable second of adrenaline where my fight responds to hide my instinct to run.
To be chained to memories that influence everything is the worst kind of prison imaginable
To be free…
I am grateful for memories, all of them. ❤