Death pixelates my essence into the horizon line.. Death is a painting that shatters my consciousness – my being forced within its frame.. Death translates every beginning and monitors every experience like Morse Code. I don’t want any of it. So many facets of my origin disgust me, in their reflection on the state of this place: No good answers, only mystery, fate, chance [depending on the mood]; my parents slain, my stolen infancy – the only solution when put against being bartered, being sold, being abused, or even killed – my country my continent is itself syphened, its mana controlled.. my own country is an abused child – which leads me to today and forgiving the minor human abuses and pains of my early days in my joy and humble gratitude for being instead inside this bubble of light, of love – so close within my parents’ sight.. the TRUTH is a scheme to teach us to learn how to look at things right.. The truth is a willingness to accept the limits of three-dimensions, along with our inner lights, and leave the mysteries to unfold when we are ready.. Death is the ultimate acceptance if only it didn’t rip me apart and leave me pixelated. I am pixelated between myself and those gone before me, a little of myself stretching into their reality – aware that I am waiting silently. On a common day I can let go and sing joyfully.. but every new Death reminds me.. the turbulence of Void, the Rush of Creation, the Dynasty of Truth and Mystery; perhaps it is good to pixelate more of me.. Perhaps that is spiritual growth; My essence reverberates now within the space of time and thought larger and protected and strong inside me, and that is in part because these things do and undo me.. Death transformed into being.. Pixelated meaning having a clan, My soul smiling.

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