Alter Egoes

The everyman is
Consumed by the need
To don a new

Think they can be
With a mask, a cape
And a new name

Think that a cause
Can be elevated
By having some titles
In groups they made

And with each conflict
Or obstacle, the
Effects of individuals
Become more residual

As a hero’s power
Wanes on its own
They form these leagues
To ‘better protect’ us

Making masks out of cardboard
And creating machines in
Their homes to help defend
The names of their cause

No purse-snatching thieves
Stalking the streets
Now we’re all weary of the
Self-proclaimed ways

Destroying and taking
All the live long day
While we all strive to
Make a better place

These crimes are in
The name of progress
We say we must resist
Those who set society

And yet they don’t fight
With their personalities
They fight as our groups
As our super hero leagues

Buildings burned by cocktails
We become more drunk by the
Meaning behind molotovs as
They scorch clashing ideologies

Freedom of speech
Means freedom to disagree
But it’s taken to mean
That others are enemy

Systems suffer ever more
By unchecked masks and
Their power to move
Entire cities to knees

They’ll never be pleased
No amount of money
Or support will justify
Them feeling injusticed

At the end of the day
Their masks are removed
And they walk among us
Like the average citizen

But they still need to ‘win’
Be more than unsatisfied
With the things their
Actions desperately justify

In a world increasingly
Neglecting what’s personal
To feel unique they only
Show their alter egoes

Red Men

Walking through streets
Of people strolling
In the grey among
The red that marks pain

The red that tinges
Others and calls attention
To their struggle
Or “unique” experiences

Red when you bleed
Under the hand of abuse
Or red when the bruises
On your mind resurface

Everyone bleeds from grey
But the redder the better
And the better the deader
Striving to be what we all

Wish to be

A deathwish of envy
For those bleeding more
Experiencing more
Than us who are grey

But who’s to say your grey
Isn’t bloody in some way
To someone else you walk
Beside and don’t notice

Because they hide their pain

Red being the sum
Of a person’s afflictions
And not their inflictions
Upon others

That they may not know of

Walking next to bloody greys
Aliens to your worst days
And we judge from what
We know

We know that you look grey

Quad Skating on Mountain Highways – Journal 11/19/17

I don’t roller skate as well as I used to. Within 10 minutes of showing up to the roller rink for a college event, I fell directly onto my ass hard enough to register on the richter scale. Which is fine. I didn’t need an intact pelvis anyways. All it did really was limit my capacity to lay down and sit at certain angles. Such as when driving for long periods of time. Lesson learned? Maybe not. A pair of inline skates sounds pretty good right now.

I have other things on mind, too. Actually going to be doing something pretty cool, but I can’t really document it anywhere quite yet. It’s called Project Truth. The nature of this project is going to be the achievement of tangible freedom, and I’m going to need a lot of help. That’s all I can say for now.

Writing is slowed down at the moment. There’s a lot of stresses from a bunch of different sides of my lives right now. I’ve got a lot of moving stuff to work with and work itself and school wrapping up and this new  project.

As such, some of my spare time has been spent following EA Games’ wonderful downward spiral with Battlefront 2. I’ve also been playing a lot of For Honor lately because they released a character that’s a batshit crazy viking witch chick that eats people. So that’s good. Stock playing has also been pretty good lately. No music finds recently, but I’ve been listening to Light Control by Solar Fields quite a bit lately. Highly recommended.

If you’ll notice, I’m trying to expand the longer-form sections of the site ever so slightly. Reviews, rehashings, and journals (to their own credit), are starting to get a little more standard. They just take a while to put out.

I’m enjoying rehashing my old work with a more experienced eye. Some stuff, like Virgo Olympus and Jolokia Simulair, can be interpreted to be a lot deeper than when I wrote them. There are more meanings hidden in some of those poems from a year or two ago than there are from anything I’ve written within the last week. It’s funny how that works out.

This makes me wonder if maybe a little subconscious trickles over and makes things more complex than they have to be when I wrote stuff a while ago. But then thinking that would be pretentious of me. If it’s self-aware is it still witty? Who the fuck cares, at this point.

“Things look brighter when you stop looking internally.”

If you follow me on Instagram, you’ll find that my username is jakefuckingshaw at the moment. That’s part of the not looking internally, being so happy that you’re not concerned about yourself. I think that’s part of it, at least. It’s a kind of zen, but another kind is to be just enjoying living, not just being happy with yourself.

I was present at an Eagle Scout ceremony yesterday, and I have to say it gave me some flashbacks. When I was a boy scout, nothing about the state of the world was visible to me yet. But the scouts have their internal values and laws and I could see how these organizations become so prolific. They have some very hard and fast rules about specific things, and then there’s a grey area of where you can use the skills you obtain.

Boy scouts and their ranks are inducted into the military all the time. They “achieve”, as the ceremony was quick to remind everybody of the statistics of this. Am I just a statistic because I was in those shoes once? Did the color guard, been a part of such ceremony, camped out, got merit badges, and everything?

I couldn’t help but think of it as achievement hunting. Yet with a purpose, nearly.

Yet here I am torn between to lines of thinking. On one hand, I love the idea of people being taught how to be pioneers for a society. I really do. How to survive, create a community, and have it persist. But on the other hand I think the idea of societal wholesomeness is incredibly unfounded.  Goodwill as a whole is in short supply, and I think that’s the way of the world. Another headline comes to pass and some of us think “How could somebody do something like that?” Yet we all know the answer, and it’s easy to figure it out.

You really have to be happy with yourself and your current status to be a happy person in society. Maybe that’s what these wholesome organizations teaches people, how to be happy with themselves. I could name a few off the top of my head that seem to work, but the problem I encounter there is an entire culture behind it. Associating.

Boy Scouts was plagued by scout moms, lifers, and overtly lazy scouts. It made the experience rather dull after Weblos, since Eagle ranks were rather easy to obtain in my troop. And then all the scouts who ran the place, older than me by about 2 or 3 years, clearly didn’t care about being present at meetings. Once I felt that valor but now I really don’t want to.

I’ve never been a fan of pageantry. I didn’t want to go to either my prom or high school graduation. There will be no associates degree graduation for me, since I don’t want one. I just want it to be done and over with.

So to me, it’s not about affiliating yourself with an organization, or a need to fulfill yourself by being a part of something larger, it’s about building a sense of positive self-satisfaction through your means. For some, this is religion, For others, this is sports. For me, it’s writing.

It can be hard not to judge people for being different, but just because they didn’t find happiness the way you did doesn’t mean they won’t do their part to make the world a better place for the both of you. These words getting thrown around like “bigot” only serve to widen a gap between individuals. It’s as if nobody looks at someone with an opposing perspective and says “hey, I wonder why that is, it could be interesting to learn about”. Usually, it becomes an us-versus-them mentality.

And this mob mentality that arises sometimes is in the name of goodness. When EA fucks over a potentially-amazing product in order to appease its shareholders, and people say something about it. When internet is about to be stripped of its neutral status as a utility, and only Reddit is batting an eyelash. When money is an object, but ideas can be chastised so much more easily when they’re different.

That’s why this world is savage. We don’t fight for ourselves, we fight for our groups.

We only fight using alter egoes.

Right now, that’s reality. This is the host, saying the truth will be revealed.

Consume reality. Radio Reality City!

Thank you for tuning in to this rambling-as-fuck journal. I promise, I’m not always like this. But I can get there. Hey, and it’s time for work! Maybe I’ll put a photo up later on as recompense for putting a bunch of heavy thoughts out right now.

Anyways, thank you for tuning in. Maybe look through some poetry and keep up with the waves!


You caught me
Outside of class
(Modern Conflicts)
Just now

Where I could tell you
I had written that
Poem from yesterday
I promised

“I’ve got to write a
poem about this now.”
I had said.

And you jabbed
About whether or not
It was free verse

You watched as I
Formatted and
Printed it for you

There was a discrepancy

I didn’t know I had
Your name wrong

An “S”, not a “Z”
I thought I knew
What I was doing

But you

And became


I was only
Slightly late
To International

But you had my
Earnest thanks

I ended up
Amending the title


I learned a little
More about you

Like that you like
Lavender incense
And your name is spelled
With an “S”

Not a “Z”

Stutz Squadron

You were always trying
To impress people
Or subtly calling for

In late senior year you shaved
Your head shameless
And got weirder than you
Had been before

Your on again/off again
Boyfriend deserted you
In an attempt to suck out the
Venom from between you two

You called yourself bisexual
To rebel against your parents
I assume, since I never saw you
With another girl

You’ve been desperate before
And tried to come onto me
But it didn’t happen and you
Moved on, though we were friends

I’ll still remember that one night
You sexted me with the outward
Intent of just needing to
“Break out”

You said the compliments I gave you
Gave you a lot of confidence
And I sincerely hoped that helped
You decide who you were

Always so angsty
You never seemed
To say “I’m me”
Like most high schoolers

You wanted to be what other people
Wanted you to be
And for a long time I was your
Confiding voice

You were a friend to me
So I was happy to be
There to talk to and have you
Figure yourself out through

Your religious parents
Kicked you out when they found out
That you called yourself

Perhaps when you just found out
Who you were
You were forced to move in
With relatives far away

I hope you’ve got it down
By now

Elisabeth Ungray

It was passing period
And I was walking behind you

Funny how people seem so grey
Until they turn to you and say


How strange it seemed to be
Approached as I was coughing

Like you took my ailment
As a salutation
But I didn’t mind much
When you turned to speak

And I noticed how familiar
You looked

I felt like I’d seen you before
But I had no idea
Why I really was so comfortable
Responding to your greeting
Or where in the background
I’d seen you before

I coughed
And you said “Hi”

That’s when I decided I needed
To write about a greeting so strange
From whom should have been stranger

Already I can’t remember enough
And I have to remind myself how
Recently you’ve been ungreyed

I’ll recall you being brunette
And wearing blue hues

One has to wonder why you
Said that

I’ve been coughing for months

Not once had one been taken
As a hello

It could be that you’re friendly
Or that you’re extroverted
Not that it’s not okay

I just don’t expect much from the
People around me

The grey shapes that background
My day to day

Elizabeth, you heard me cough
And instead of anything else
You turned and said “Hi”

Then I learned how easy it is
For people to emerge

Everybody Else

Everybody Else

Everyone else
I used to know

Some fond faces
I don’t know
If I’ll see

Some cut ties
Some hate or lies
Among other things

Deciding the reason
Excisions were keeping
Webs of networks apart

Pacified egos
Starving the soul
And depriving
Even simple things

Like a throat
To speak with

Everyone else
I don’t think about

Everyone else
Has a life, too

All the people
I’ve forgotten
And the names
I haven’t seemed

To somehow let
Cross my mind

Twidling my thumbs
On the new smartphone

Cutting ties
Doesn’t satisfy

Starving the soul
Feeding the ego
An echo chamber

With a new throat

Time to sit down
On a stool in a
Dim room
And nurse the wounds


What rules?

Everyone else
Doesn’t seem to
Have a throat

So how do we grow?

Are the things we
Say all illusory?

I wish I could say
But I can’t
I have no known

I’m silent in the
Stitching up the holes

I’m sitting on a stool
Staring at new blood

This epiphany

It’s time to reestablish
With everybody else

Feed the soul
Starve the ego

Let join the two grafts
Of self and unself

Let the new blood scar



Does what you need it to.
Does what you want it to.
Makes you question
what you thought you would.

Is an upper.
Is a downer.
Is a waker.
Is a sleeper.

Is a creeping in your spine.
Is a tingle down the lines
of a body feeling fine
in every way so wrongly.

Makes you see out-of-body.
Can let you see your eyes.
Evokes synesthesia.
Is the answer in disguise.

Is a killer.
Is a taker.
Is a thief.
Is a breaker.

Tunnels like a jackhammer.
Dresses like a bushwhacker.
Warms like no other bonfire.
Tastes like precious opal.

Is not to be trifled.
Is always there.
Is somewhere near.
Makes certainly sure

you’re never alone.