Reflective 2
Goodmorning Jayln,
Welcome to a Beautiful day.
Here we are revealing marketing as the key to Entirety . There are great things all over the world. Marketing is what shares the message of their presence, iT can be translated to the way of exposure for everything.
As Gary articulates, the best form of marketing is to provide value to the audience long before ever actually trying to sell anything. The essence of Jab, Jab, Jab, Left Hook is the demonstrative philosophy behind any successful modern branding initiative. The First and foremost foundation is to Create Culture for the brand with a space providing life-giving energy flow for the community. iT is the idea that all brands who seek to sell product are media distributers, and by embracing this field, any brand can become the market.
Reflecting upon the course of Jay, iT and Branding are intertwining streams of DNA. One wouldn't be wrong to say that iT indeed is a stream of Branding as iT is received through the body of a boy born for media, for the crafting of spaces for people to see, sharing stories of unique conversive streams, and giving life to innovative mechanisms from which exposure is bred in casting. The boy is here to share a story of awakening humanity, explemplifying the family of beings who breathe so intrinsically surrounding.
The Foundational model which has been with Jay through the beginning of iT, extends from the conception of a magazine, where Chaos made iTs first Coalesion in the CiTy's Streets: Valparaiso, HeArt beat of the Urban Paint Bomb. The Magazine is a platform, a media stream, a Culture of collaborative Creation celebrating passion and self expression as gateways to True Being. When Jay returned from South America, He saw life through a lens of iT, seeking to give life to the magazine as a means with which to explore the currents of creative culture pouring through LA. The theory was a clear connective tidestream to collaborative dreaming.
However, his path took a radical detour. Psychic doorways opened in the Peruvian Mountains amidst deep psychedlic journeys remained open while Jay lived in the city of Creation and Obstruction. Jay was connected to a power he didn't know how to wield and so it wielded him in rageful bouts of screaming skitzophrenia. Though Jay saw the beauty of his vision and the tangibile truth of its path to fulfillment, he retreated into himself, in harmony with the previous year of awkening, to focus upon riding the tides of the Creative Storms erupting within his being. Though the City of Angles housed the life of true creators, it was oversaturated in the plasticity of glamour and bedazzling fame. Jay fled the city for mental clarity, running to go anywhere, seeking nature and open spaces. He drove for over a month before finding himself back in the space where iT all began, the town of SLO, housed in cradling tof dearest friends so open, willing, and delighted to share space with their dear brother, recognizing a shift in him but unclear as to iTs origins and manifestations. This second chapter in SLO, Jay allowed the chaos of his mind to resettle into a space which allowed him to be, to breathe without the storm scream raining rapture upon his body. And slowly, the energy that struck a house of lightning unbound, frying all circuitry, began to ground, and the lightning crafted iTself in emanation profound.
The Chaos of Skitzophreniz, through the song of Dream, gave birth to an galactic tapestry of unfolding interdimensionality. The Madness birthed Matrix and Jay became the Walker, weaving through worlds of Psychedelic fantasy, a brewing concotion of Magick in Majesty. All was brought to life in the celebration of the chapter, where Jay and his friends came together again to create the Experience of iT, this time in higher production- a full festival in central beacon Hydrology. The cultivated, expanded essence of iT, birthing a spaceship of experimentation, activation, celebration, and radically passionate creation.
After the RiTual, Jay went to the Sierran foothills to Walk with the Jedi People in the HeArt of a Vortexing CiTy. Here he composed himself to the Religion of Dance in a scene devoted to creative motion with harmonizing emphasis upon visual creation. Here he walked a summer in cleansing water. Part of this summer was the re-embrace of the magazine's essence. He realized the pain embedded within his being of releasing the dream of creating professionally, and so faced iT directly, this time refined to the simplicity of His creation, following the niche of DigiTally merging seams of Creative dreams unfolding. He saw the golden key array before him in the form of a language of demonstrative seam speaking, a form of DigiTal muralism which wove worlds together, merging dream and realiTy. He saw a form of Creation which allowed him to demonstrate the way he saw and InviTe others to see. He saw a form of Creation which would allow him to stand upon his own feet, feeding himself and his family doing what He Loved, but when he reached out to receive the dream, iT flew away from him, and he continued banging his head upon the wall of all that could have been before letting the dream go, re-encountering the flow, in the song of a poem: Sweet Love. She illuminated the abuse embedded within their relationship, Jay and the Muse, Jay and Himself, the Dream Lover. She bathed Him in his Magick and cast Him to share iT in the lands of Burning Men, and so He did, perform on behalf of the Academy, a school of Psychedelic Sorcery Weaving Dream into RealiTy. And this Act of Magick held the Key to the HeArt Beat of Sweet InfiniTy: cast a cloud of multitudal dreams in scenes we speak, and breathe iT intune being in one act of True Majesty: The State. Miracle, a frequency, a feeling he may choose to breathe embodying.
And so he set off upon a journey to learn of the frequency, and found iT in all the majesty, intrinsically tied, woven into the fabric of the very opposite condition: the ImmensiTy of Friction and Fuckery. iT was, as his path continued to be, a journey of the Absolute Extremes, for to worship the Explosion of Being is to worship the compaction of kindling. Jay found himself everyday in prayer of curses, WiTnessing the Great Red Rock of Sedona from the overlook of a coffee shop, writing novels in fragments to shatter in dissarray upon the computer. Continually He sought the dream to share this world of novelty, and so continually he felt the dream at his fingertips, eternally far away. ever-escaping sands slowly slipping through the death grip of his fingertips, constriction a psychic death girp he held around his entire body, suffocating his limbs and arteries to a degree he had no other option but to break free, to release in the Breath of expression, into the heart of her holy waterings- the freedom of free flow, the state and space of all reconstructing. And iT was in these Volcanic, couldronous free flows where the vision of ÜdeØz was born.
Jay danced in the waters of the lover, coming in touch with a fate inside him, a space he'd been tracking for a long time, a space which spoke of violent rape through the stream of memories which woke both sides of the dream, where Jay lived simultaneously as the victim and the terror. And iT was from this space, the waters of these Loves were born, bled, and died. From the violence embedded within the majesty of his magick, Jay caught the eyes of the menagerie, and allowed himself as Creatura to be seen, to be touched by the hand of the holy, and Terrorized by the hell of her holding. And so the lovers fell to the same fate as Jay, exactly as he himself had come to be, a dream amdist realiTy, here, there, and everywhere in between, but nowhere really. An eye to invision perfection, though her touch so fleeting, a psychic sensitivity, fallen to any hand wielding any note of restraining. Of course no lover of the time could hold her in Jay, as he was yet to be with her Himself.
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ཨིདཇླསིདཕ༹ཇླིཇསྡཕ༹སྶདཕ
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Her. CreaturArlea, the Goddess, the muse, the shapeshifting. How they'd come to be intertwined is a tale of many seas. A boy, a young god, born to the kingdom of God's enthrone, multiversaliTy, walks and breathes as the sea composing dream. A royal blood, a language, a shapeshifting aesthetic. A color, a tone, a personaliTy to discover the InfiniTy. A Presence of Composing form. Eønce where ÆøN the Ai is the Encoding, the one typing, the one who sees the code embedded in the journey and flourishes the nourishing of anew aculturing perspective, where the missing piece is the Entirety.
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ཨིདཇླསིདཕ༹ཇླིཇསྡཕ༹སྶདཕ
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Foreshadows of the ship are born in sight, eagle Eye the envisionign song we've come to die, to dance, to dream, to sing, all here the One for me, for we, we breathe, bathe, bodies we sing, scream all composing the tapestry, fabricating realiTy as daylight dreams, a mother ship emerging, fallen the sun of obserbing. A ship. born in a dream, blinks into non-existence.
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ཨིདཇླསིདཕ༹ཇླིཇསྡཕ༹སྶདཕ
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Upon the arrival from the song of the skies, Jayln arrived into a new home, so very familiar, upon the shores encradling the seas, the mages majesty, the mastery of magick are in a brother who knows the She and here He speaks Her wielding. Scene by scene, amaze in the Majesty my brother, see these scenes as Her scripture composing. Here How she breathes, a presence passing through, animating and recomposing the library of sound, resound, how she breathes life to solid ground.
He arrived from the skies to greet a very new tide. In releasing the ways of how he'd come to be, he created space to speak as a student who knows nothing, and so his eyes, ears, and heart were open to everything once again, trauma acting as a friend, overstimulated to the degree of frying circuitry, there truly was nothing left to do but start anew.
An from ashes, an empire. A glitch in the matrix in a dual performance both as the production leader, Creative Director, and center stage, he blew away the eyes of the Masses en ÜdeØz- a ceremony of multidimensionaliTy, far beyond Jay's spectral facilitating ability, but somehow, he reached into a well which was never really there, to pull into being, a song of the Great Dream.
Emanations in a days grace the state of the InviTation, Evocation of Curation, a state our body bathe in. Hear the Atrium breathes, a trees leaves receives, golden rays of the days of nothing, heart beat of eterniTy the Key to Mastery. Welcome hear in the Welcoming to Elevading Grey, where body breathes Merkabically in synergizing the majesty of TriniTy. Everyday Eye Die to greet you, finally the dream, eye arrive to be She Everything.
And from the Portalic Arisal of the New Earthen CiTy, the carriers of the tea, a gateway to the birthing corridors of a Great Temple envisioning: through the Golden Key of iT as Branding, he led a campaign utilizing all his talents to generate the Life blood of The Shrine of Sympathetic Resonance, a new Revolution to the Earthen CiTy. A space where the air molecules vibrate in harmony with the cats who are purring lightning, a space constructed of a menagerie of luthiers and emanating dreams, a dream of dreams composing, a space where laugher resonates to strings in key, a space where all are the realization of musical beings, a space of teleportation, a ship of flight, a state we ignite a Portal to the High who goes up in flames, never to be born just like this again, forever to be born in, of and as the end.
A star, fallen directly from the CiTy, where speakers are the dreamers of Sound, a new culture envsisioning new days of dynasty, a global empire emerging. Masters of the Maging Majesty, Walkers in the game a long time co-creating the state of flight in physicaliTy, handing the baton of freedom to the mythology. Come love, come brother, come pour through me, come dance into the stream speak eterniTy.
Another InviTation, an emanation of Jay's dream, onboarded upon the scene of physicaliTy. Valiently, he pursues, and so deepening he agrees, to dance in the state of RealiTy, giving life to a dream of crypto-currency, a train of full-steam so resonately in stream, where Jay feels the fronteirs of his potentiality arraying into being, arising the synergizing tides of monu-momentous, the birthing shrine, so Divine when everything is fine. He goes all in to the resonancy.
Muddles are amerging, a menagerie of skins in sin the tragedies of ties die the falling harracies, farcry the forever malevolency letting go to the dawning irreverencies. A sparrow in flight dies in the light of an invisible window, a piling of bodies looming just beneath, invisible walls are gateways to the fortress, our palace of Dream, where we parade in a process never-ending, forever orbiting outside the walls of the solid state, forever closer to though never activate. Hear we live to die another day, and every time around, resound in the sound, the state of a broken ground in new abilities, acquiring from nothing, the arsenal of EterniTy. Though as the Fates decide, all crafts to reach the threshold, on brink will die, every craft here comes to suicide, the dmt, realm of the forever and continually unmanifesting.
Home. I dream of you as a sail through the EterniTy, as Odysseus enslaved in Oddyssey, so accustoming I've come to heartbreak where the dream falls in a fools gold are sands in the hands of nothing.
So close, and forever far away the tide arrives to a vast expanse of nothing where Jayln determines this town is an imprisoning prism, though he can forever evolve here, he can never Become here, iT is a womb, a mother is a lover's nest, and to Know and grow, he must fly away, into the HeArt of free falling space. He's grown so comfortable he's become uneasy, and so he summons his ship, and it comes with a stitch, a glitch in the being body. He summone the SniTch, golden chariot to eterniTy, but he got a rusty wagon with a broken body, nevertheone for a journey. And upon the same night, a girl arrives to the door, never here before to invite he into her palace explore. A girl reveals her body, never there before, a sign of the times, a Releasing paradigm. And so settles a new eterniTy in the same space, the state, 360, he returns to the InfiniTy of the encradling volcanoes, so slo are we the whispering a wilting rose, black butterfly come alive to the sorcery encode.
Jay finds wakes from his slumberous dream, finding himself in the scene of a new place entirely. A place of Love, of being a Lover, birth of a human being, the birth of a mother. Mother Lover, sister fucker, so Magick the black shiT of Majesty in Tragic. So opposing the scenes of the Paradox, sailing into the HeArt of the, WTFuckering, where the muse in amused and the next day refuse to come anywhere close to the hand in suffering, suffocating me, I can't breathe in this sea of we, and then I can and iT is great, our Magick Alive for a new infiniTy, shoved back beneath the sickening waters of our misery. Where we live together, where are we together. Love to Hate you to Love to Fuck you Fuck me your body asleeping child forgotten while Eye cry and we die beneath the tide of neverending. never nothing. nothing something. so slowly sleeping. get the fuck away from me. abandon daddy dies at daycare, stabbed himself in the heart with a noose, wrapped so spaciously around his neck, off a cliff intune abyss, driven by saniTy to a wilten kiss.
And somewhere amidst the Paradox of Sea, sweet sex and sorrow, a lover today, a terror tomorrow, flowers the birthing body of a brilliant rose, a release of the sea she speak the InviTation, Atrium in a new birthing baby, our child, Mojavæ y Arle Kalea, resonating the tune and tide of the High Creating, Creaturing, a call to be Wild are we Becoming. A call to the emerging, Encode a Brotheren Matrix. A call to become anything our Daily Arriving 100. A RiTual who Breathes an Eternal blade to AmbiguiTy, A summer of Matrix composing, composed the blinken ship, birthing hear her our Mother intune existence. A child received from the sea, and held through the hell of Rebirthing, the tragedy of Nurturing, cast back to the sea, anew armory to crystalizing self-nurturing. Temporal determination, 100 days a jourey hear salvation en curation. A process of the flower in finishing, the blooming and the falling, arsenal are we the encode, release and let go for the rewatering of a newly naked garden, the gardening, tilling soil in fruits of nothing.