I think about Dad and how I got martyrdom in the DNA
My Mon… a sociopath.
My Dad.. a martyr.
But don’t they feed each other?
I guess without feeding it …it starves to death and we define..
Our new way…in lieu of flowers,
Kindly fuck off I say…(to the programming of centuries).
To be the rock/evolvement of the lineages is the highest form of love. ️
Trust that.
I say.
The creativity is the s(ed)uction of the all of it – she would go, but not without resistance first.
My biological sister, who was adopted, found me today. And, people question data and forensics. DNA rules do exist in numbers… I feel often like my Dad is how Eminem is with his daughter in his rhymes. Like…Daddy loves you and will do everything to make your life better kind of Dad.
I’m processing this overwhelming information and energy.
Cuz…Merry Christmas from Dad. From the beyond (And, Near).
My Dad told me of her….and, all I knew was her name was Angel ..and, it is.
How I process in reel time…
The galaxy is mostly dark matter – mind-filled darkness. The beauty of the space in-between and out of bounds is the ambiance of the quotient of life matter(s).
As is a viable source to get to know….I’ve found if I found any lesson with working in a funeral home my high school years – the number of deaths I’ve seen…I can report back to you that energy does not die, so what are so many humans afraid of – is the question.
When he passed…I succumb to the bar scene….I didn’t even know where I was or where I was going…I just knew the only darkness I knew was where I went.
 | JenJuice on Dear Brother….. |
 | Eric on Dear Brother….. |
| JenJuice on Work in Process… |
| Eric on Work in Process… |
| JenJuice on A child (in the) hood….… |
Jen Juice 