January III

I think there are sketchy things going on behind the scenes of the interwebbers lately as my robot numbers seem to have powered up like Shinobi. I figure this is probably some asshole attempt by corporate cyberlords like Google or Facebook or whoever to inflate something, increase value, pretend part of that value is mine, keep all the value themselves, have it explode because the whole thing is artificial, but they keep their shit and I am back to nothing, like always, and a lot worse for wear through the whole process, including emotionally because the trials and tribulations put survivor mentality into our brain molecules. PTSD from the everyday, know what I mean? But just in case this is not some trumped up overlord scam in its early unacknowledged stages I am picking up signals and clues about, let me explain to you some of my wonderful "put food on my kitchen table" literal literary things I have, that are real, and yet accessible through robot transactions.

Rojonekku word fighting arts next phase of printed battle against a civilized world's false promises is One Thousand Feathers which has the first two available, but will end up being a thousand. No shit, that's the goal. I'm in the middle of five more already, in mad juggler style. One Thousand Feathers the One is The Primordial Traditionalist I, which is back roads philosophizing but also heavily influenced by my main man Rene Guenon. One Thousand Feathers the Two is Recession Proof I which is a dope ass short story set in the short-term future after America completely gets into austerity chaos and the lower 70% or so of society is left to be fucked. It's tight. And look, if you just paypal me $15 to $20 through the DONATE button over on the right sidebar there, I'll stuff a box full of about 20 of them, mixed and matched, for you to share amongst your local circles of peoples. It's real literal paper you can really literally hand to others or leave on your kitchen table or give to people who buy weed from you or whatever. If you do the DONATE, mark it as a gift so we can fuck paypal out of their cut.

Also of note is along these Virginia side tracks I wild harvest ripened-by-life railroad spikes, bring them home, wipe them down with magic apple cider vinegars on old hospital rags, and industrially carve haiku I wrote into them, creating a one-of-a-kind magical object that would totally motherfuckin' bless any mess, from double-wide to mountaintop mansion. If you click that link and are like, "Oh fuck bro, that's expensive," I can understand. The main reason I make art is I can't afford art but I need art. I also have some of the homepix from this site photo-printed up and matted and looking all pretty and shit that would also bless most any mess. They're all worth what they are listed, probably worth more actually when I look at the crap other people sell as matted prints or art objects, but I also understand and respect the struggle. If you something you are in love with, hit me up, and maybe we come to an agreement that is mutually beneficial. As much as I can always use money because I never have money, I am also like, "Man, fuck money," plenty of the time too.