Manga, Musings, and the Mind…

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A Red State Mystic has written recently about the sort of crashing down of our 90s utopia. He also clarifies what he means by this, and he points out some very startling realities that we’re facing in this era.

The 90s did have some awesome music and styles. The 90s did see an era of good writing, great video games, and inventions such as the Tamagotchi. Sailor Moon was created and ended in the 1990s.

I sit here at age 27 and wonder if my life has really come to this point and stagnated. Given, I’m actually involved in the inner life, which is more involved than the outer life in many regards, but still. I sit here and ponder a very important question: am I being sincere with myself?

Life is meant to be lived. This much is true, and I’m not denying it. But at the same time, I also know that wherever I go, there I am.

I want to create peace in myself, here, in this small town. I want to create happiness and fulfillment in this small town, to find that unshakeable core of the God-man Jesus Christ at my own center, and then, and only then, do I want to go out into the world, to live life- because only then will life be worth living. Only then will my own ability to encounter anything and everything be real.

I’m holding on to something, and I can’t tell what it is. All I know is that my life is fleeting, my years are fleeting, and I can’t help but wonder why I’m not experiencing- and have never experienced- what society says I should.

Do people really have that much faith in society? Do people really follow cultural memes so well that they aren’t bothered by the world around us? There’s an increase in lack of authenticity among people in our society.

Or maybe I’m just becoming an adult, and this why so many people fight growing up- because being an adult means you die on the inside, walking around as a hollow husk of a human.

Damned alliteration.

I’m drawing again. My manga is up. I plan for it to be a kind of subtle evangelism, dispersing ideas Christian and mystical in a user-friendly form. You can visit the link below.

Super Yummy Angel Cake


Centering Prayer Videos

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In this video, Father Anthony Silvia of the Apostolic Johannite Church (and Bishop Thomas Langley of the Alexandrian Gnostic Church *I think*) explores and explains Centering Prayer. In part 2, the participants at GnosticNYC actually do the Centering Prayer, and you can do it with them!

Talk Gnosis: Meet the Early Gnostics

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Father Anthony “Tony” Silvia of the Apostolic Johannite Church and Bishop Thomas Langley of the Alexandrian Gnostic Church discuss and explain the ancient Gnostics in this introductory video.

life, Life; reality, Reality

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The deadness on my inside hasn’t left.


I’m terrified, to be honest.


But the terror is muted over, like a gray, melting demon has not allowed me to even feel the fear.


Last night, I committed a grave sin. I can’t detail and confess the sin online, only that I committed it. I heard Our Lady’s voice tell me at the very moment after the sin was committed: “You have a committed a grave sin.”


Perhaps this wasn’t the actual voice of Our Lady; most likely, my own conscience was dictating this to me.


Yet the sin was committed and cannot be undone.


Sin is about life. Sin committed by myself, the people who would be counted among God’s number, is not about trying to hurt God; it’s about trying to feel alive. So much sin involves our emotional faculties, so much sin involves our feeling alive and our need to feel alive; even something simple like stealing something gives an adrenaline rush because one is “breaking a rule.”


So we sin, and we sin all for the sake of seeking to be alive.


A Red State Mystic wrote recently about wanting Reality over reality, and I want the same. Mystics throughout the ages have suggested that this life is like a dream, and that we must wake up.


Only I would say that this life is like a nightmare, and I know I’m asleep, and I still can’t seem to wake up; I’m screaming, I’m screaming so loudly, and I can’t find my way out.


I have those rare few moments where I do make it out, where I wake up, and I think, “Oh…!”


But those moments, those awe-inspiring moments of feeling alive, are becoming foggier and foggier. My mind feels as though it’s perpetually asleep, as though there’s always a wall between me and the world around me, and now, all I want to do is cry about it, because I don’t know what to do, I can’t imagine what to do, I can’t figure out how to change things.


I cry out to God, and God turns a deaf ear to me. It doesn’t matter that I witness to Him when I can: “Yes, I hear You! I hear You in the flow of the song, in the blow of the wind; I see you in the symbols of my dreams, I see you in the smile of children. Yes, I feel you when the covers are snug around me in my bed, when I walk into the morning warmth before going to Mass.” No, I am despised none the less!


I sound like the biggest pseudo-psalmist emo-boy that ever existed.


So, in summary: I am separated both from life and Life. I am caught in the in-between, in a world that’s awful and won’t give me the pleasures of the world and won’t give me the pleasures of God. It’s like being dead. Or Dead. This must be what Hell is like.




Legitimate Fear

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One of my so-called legitimate fears at the moment is that I’m not experiencing the Dark Night of the Soul or any such mystical trial; indeed, I fear that perhaps my lack of feeling life within me, the sense of emptiness, the lack of the longing and yearning in my heart and in my stomach is all indicative of something: I’m just getting older, becoming an adult, and like all adults, I simply am not as inspired or full of life as I once was.


I don’t know if this is really the case or not, and I certainly haven’t made any kind of conscious decision for this to happen.


Yet here I am.


Sometimes I have dreams- I would call them nightmares- where I feel the true burden of the tightness in my shoulders and chest, a painful, woeful cry that erupts from my soul that “LOVE DOES NOT EXIST! ALL IS LOST! ABANDON ALL HOPE!” The pain in those dreams is so strong that if I were to feel it in waking life with any duration of time longer than a few minutes, I would probably, and I mean this quite seriously, kill myself as soon as I could.


It’s not that I don’t enjoy my life; I do. But the Longing always indicated SOMETHING MORE. And without that SOMETHING MORE, things fall apart; everything is grey and empty.


Perhaps I really am depressed and refuse to admit it or have repressed my sense of depression so much that I can’t feel it in ordinary consciousness. I’m really not sure anymore.


Maybe this is the slow death of the ego in which the true self is born. Maybe nothing is actually happening, and nothing will happen, and all is lost. I have no option but to go forward- if I can go forward. My greatest fear is that I have stagnated and will simply succumb to the same destiny as all other adults seemingly do.


God, help me.