BRRRRRT – Journal 5/20/18

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Captain Neutral, standing out.

Wow, it’s been so long since I’ve done one of these that I nearly forgot how I structured the titles. But I remembered how to write poetry today, that’s pretty fucking nice.

Today is a very prominent day in my history. It has to do with my introduction and coming-of-age story that occurred over the course of five years starting in 2013. Back then I thought I knew everything. And every succeeding year after that, I continued to. At least when I was in high school I was a real narcissistic prick, but college gave way to a more ego-minded person. At least when I got into college I was ready to accept I would be among peers. This was true for a while.

Still, self-awareness isn’t valiant in and of itself. You have to do something with it. Self-actualize a little bit. Not let the mandala effect take over and erase all the good stuff.

That’s why Reality City is organized the way it is. Over the years since its inception, it’s developed into this theory of metacognition and a way of visualizing it. I approached my psyche professor about writing a paper on it as part of an optional piece we can do this quarter, and he was fully on board. It helps that he double-majored in philosophy when he was going through his master’s program.

Wordy wordy word word. Sorry about that. It’s just been a while since I’ve done a journal, today is a historic day in my life for a variety of reasons, and since my last journal things have drastically changed.

I’m now under the employ of a full-time, benefits-giving job that effectively triples my wage. Relationship stuff last week entered a fever pitch and now we’re in the aftermath of an impossible decision, Kirke and I. I’m now a professional photographer today with the assistance of a couple of friends who needed some wedding pictures done. And I look towards the future with more vigor than I was looking a month or so ago.

Something today has been renewed in me. Maybe it’s reading poetry indirectly meant for me that does the trick sometimes. Or just getting out and taking pictures of some very happy people ready to celebrate each other. My life since 5/20/13 has revolved around relationships, and now more than ever that’s true for only the best of reasons.

With university looming, I’ve now decided to save up for a new car that isn’t quite as destroyed as my jeep (and it turns out I might like subcompacts, the newer manual Fiat 500’s to be specific). Which, due to recent events, is no longer marked with my name. Anonymity on my part is the current name of a game that I can’t quite yet talk about, but when I can the fucking doors are going to blast open. No NDA, but simple timing is a weapon right now that I must use effectively. Don’t worry, Radio Reality City will not be cloaked in obscurity for very long.

That being said, the title of this journal is the sound an A10 Warthog makes when it fires its guns! Which is exactly what’s going to happen when the truth can be wrought.

See, Reality City is all about reality. If you know your ingsocs or thought police, even reality can be subject to interpretation and mismanagement. My fear of memory loss has even made me aware of confabulation and implantation, which are actually even more terrifying prospects than losing it all entirely.

So today I’ve been able to open up my notebook for a good honest crack at writing I haven’t been able to stomach for at least a month. I’ve been producing, just nothing done. Kirke seems to think I’m too hard on myself, but I think that’s exactly the opposite of what’s going on. I’m not hard enough on myself!

And over the course of the last month instead of writing I’ve been really focusing on photography, drone stuff, graphic design, and a bunch of other things that aren’t primarily writing related. I’ve overwhelmed myself and needed to get my focus narrowed again. Getting to go do a day-long shoot with a few of my friends helped the photographer in me be satisfied for a couple of days:

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They’re even photogenic on an off-profile!

And with the gold of May pouring onto trees at sunset I was able to get some good pictures of that, too.

And I’ve also been experimenting with a thing called “databending”, which is where you take an image, turn it into raw data (.tif file format works best, encoded with U-Law), put that data into Audacity, apply an audio effect to the result, and then retransmit that back into an image file (save as… mp3, but then change it to “other uncompressed formats” and apply your own file type extension).

It’ll turn this photo

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She’s drinking lemonade.

Into this one

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She’s drinking D A T A B E N D

And this was achieved with a reverb effect over 6 minutes or so of the resulting data’s audio. Quite neat to do! I’ve done this after some fractal stuff in GIMP. So that’s pretty cool, I think. I don’t know what practical use it’s gonna have yet, but hey, it’s a thing.

LOT OF DIFFERENT CREATIVE FRONTS I’VE DECIDED TO BURY MYSELF IN

Sheesh, this comes off of testing out stream stuff in this thing I posted today, too.

But today I remembered music can make me think. Not about 5/20/13 or 5/20/14 or 15 or 16 or indeed 17. I had to be Somewhere Else. So I listened to GH by Deadmau5 again for the first time in a long time and the creative taps opened.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to churn some more out. I’ll take my camera to Pierce, leave my laptop here, and continue about my day with notebook at the ready. It’s a nice break from being buried. Probably been why I’ve been creatively blocked lately. I even got a proper twitter @JakeThomasShaw in my frenzy to expand. Still haven’t used it.

Back to the roots, eh? It’s 10:30 PM here and there’s coffee in my veins.

Think about it. A year ago, did you think you’d be here? I certainly didn’t. Voyagers, Foxes, Apocalypses, Destinations, Drones, and  Psychopaths. I never thought I would ever be here. Made it this far, though. There’s so much more to go.

Thank you for tuning in, once again. Radio Reality City survives off of listeners, for if there’s no one to listen to one interpretation, there’s quite no point in being different people. And then there’s no point to defining reality.

There’s only 73 days left to Year v! So go forth, make stuff, and consume reality!

Radio Reality City!

https://radioreality.city

Bog Witch Brew

Before there was meaning
To any good celebrating
We shared sips of coffee
Grounds wet with rose water

Tamped, strained, and shot
Us into a daze of days
That lasted a whole week
Even though we weren’t weak

It was the brew that was
What weeks were made of
What kicked off the morning
And shut down the nights

Like a baton to the shin
It stopped us from flight
And subdued us from fighting
That day’s altering state

Then day was no longer
And it was tomorrow
As the week went on
Like it was so strong

When we bought those potions
Some spillage in the street
Made travelling by hills
Weary at even the notion

How atrocious the skull was
In foam that appeared
At the surface of liquid
Before we drank its veneer

Consuming a concoction
Of bog witch inception
Now we have
The breath of November

Within us

The red rose water
Bitter black coffee
And fragile skulls
Mixed and consumed

Took us in tune
Two months to the future
And moths disturbed
Fluttered with the lights

Of our arrival

Potion’s aftertaste so
Sweet, so savory,
Sanguine if sanguine
Had a taste perceived

Crow’s blood and dark souls
Culled to the mixture
Drank by the cup full
Of kaymak and skulls

Bones break and sinews snap
To the force of futures
As the potion works its
Magic on us consumers

Weeks become weak
Time moves swift
And amber lakes leak
Into rivers

Those rivers unto rivers
That flow into our veins
To make us strong
And to have time detained

Wicked

Burial grounds unearth the ring
On your finger:
A coffin set in red
Crystal rock

As rich in color as
Your bloody knuckles
Before they scarred over.
Walls hurt.

Vibrant as the faux
Eyeliner you’ve painted
On, designed like
Ozymandias still stood tall.

Fastiduous and full of ardor
Like a bog witch
Performing a ritual
Deep in the forest.

Be a shaman to me, resurrect
Whatever it may be
That plagues your mind
And let me see.

I want to be a part of
Your world. Whatever swamps
I must wade through,
I’d love to.

For I can imagine the things
You’ve seen in those soulful
Eyes. What war paint you wear
To make art of a guise.

You’re beautifully wicked,
Hooded like an exile
On the run, casting
All kinds of spirit magic.

Wicked with the crops
You strain through water
And drink to have energy
And commune with the dead,

Wicked with the best
You bring out of me,
Weaving illusions where
Reality alters itself.

So much so I wish I had
Been drinking roses
With you much earlier
Than I ever could.

Chill Corner

By the third staircase
Hidden behind hallways
There’s a couple of seats
And massive windows

So that when you sit
You can sun or sip
Your coffea
While you study

It’s a place for those
Who seek respite and need
Chemicals of all kinds
To feel calm

High energy calamity
Keeping focus and
Letting float thoughts
Of confident peace

Hopeful Leaves 2

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Shot with a Canon EOS Digital Rebel XS; f/5; 1/40; ISO-400; 39mm. 1/19/2018 11:41 AM.

A new Anthem in Tacoma I didn’t know existed. Across from the bookstore at UWT, I had anything but coffee or tea to drink.

Liquid Remedy

Heaping spoonfuls
For coffee or tea
Heals the head
When it’s too rested

Warmth of a mug
Against wintry hands
Comforts when
The brew is done

After the tea steeps
And coffee brews
All that’s left
Are additives

Sugar and honey
Creamer and milk
Whatever medicine
Can be added

Chefs of good vibes
Makers of energy
Pharmecutical drinks
And liquid remedies