What I see and hear Speaking in jibberish not tongues Walrus meets Elk My son converted to the religion of escapism and paid with his life Overdose is a conspiracy, it never just happens Joining this death-cult is a commitment disconnect from the web Lose the ability to hear Abusers are zealots
Recorded at 4AM after the last day of my brainwashing seminar 3 days of uncomfortable hammering A had 3 wonderful days with my mother and her partner. "you've had it too easy" So much seems up to the individual My son painted a face of a clown In the woods there is a swamp I resisted the positive message I am drawn to flowers clinging to life It's nothing personal
I signed up for a brainwashing seminar. I approach it with an open mind (pun) Is it possible to prevail over grief? Can I even envision a life without my son? etc... How would he feel knowing how you are now? A new me. Nothing Matters Why can't I just let him be dead? Protect yourself.
Today is what should be my son's 27th birthday. His twin, a friend, his co-conspirator was just found dead. Like my son. I felt compelled to dedicate this week's episode to this awful twist of reality. Heartbreaking and disturbing. I visit with and speak to my son. I break the news to his memory. Another Nobody. A dark and twisted tale. A repetition Flashes of being his father I really like his dead partner in crime too. Use and Die...
What is the meaning of life? I asked Aristotle. Endgame, Skill, and the intrinsic human desire for good. I asked my teacher "what the meaning of life" his reply: "not to suck" Guitar and Bass are my solace now. My son is no longer a human, that i know of. Drugs are connection negligence Stupid is fatal
Silly and serious collide as I attempt to describe my creative process. I am interviewed by my alter-ego with surprising results. Taken to task. I play with toys. I wrestle with my bias. I am startled by the alteration of what knowledge and certainty is. What is the purpose of a protest song. Nobody cares.
I share difficult memories and insights into myself I seek his reasons... there are none. I found his heroin once and almost used to it to try and understand Soft talk, bass flutes and my song I didn't mean to let you die Don't leave me here without you
The opening line of this most important episode says it all. A few US chemical companies make the only chemical needed to make heroine and meth Based on an explosive Bloomberg.com article. Who knew these few publicly traded US chemical companies made the manufacturing of these death drugs possible. We're being played...to death Like it or not, the addicts complete the chain. Addiction is Power! Full story available on my Twitter @TheMrNobodyPod1...
I vist a doctor She tells me I'm torturing my son with my anger I confront my hate of needles I begin yoga I have a profound meeting with my son, or was it? My father's typing awakes me a week after he dies, I encounter something. I toy with the idea of forgiveness My heart is working too hard
I revisit my past life as a performing musician and theater artist. An awakening that happened a Punk Rock show Control and illusion collide on the carpet of dichotomy A deep regret surfaces. Learning and surrender. Powerful grief of the family ...I forgot to expect the unexpected Contrast is the thing he was trying to teach me. One More Hit
Guilty for my grief, rage and dark fantasies. The unsafe world full of danger I visit my hungry 20s when I stole a piece of cake. How much of my mind can I give to the Evil. I shall never know. I confuse my son and myself I touch on a faint vision of a possible future very faint
In this episode I explore hunting, songwriting, religions, injured animals and the will to live. I witness perhaps a persons last meal. Jazz guitar, church bells and a message from a stranger. I know I'm wrong. A Daffodil is a trumpet shaped flower. Mountains don't care if you mountain climb.
I'm struggling with dark feelings. I try to let him go, to accept my life as it is. There is so much less. Inside outside, I face my mortality under these conditions. I don't want to waste my own life feeling this bitterness. not sure yet. It is just me creating this, or is it? Limited time. I commit myself to at least one course of action
My First interview. A deep, startling and honest conversation with my beautiful and wise daughter. One of the most terrible moments in my life was having to wake her up and tell her... We free-form thru the grief. I ask my most pressing questions. He laughs in the background. "It's just an incredible loss" .... her
It's been 3 years tonight, I have been more morose than expected. I still have trouble accepting what happened, what he did to himself. Trust and betrayal. I discuss a blood-contract I had with my son. Broken by his choosing of heroin and death. This episode features a song he plays and sings, I cannot listen. Not Him.
I almost run into my son in another dimension, I feel a white staff in my hands. I am not in control either in life and in my hallucinations. I recall special moments that might have remained hidden in my mind if not for these sound paintings. More questions, less answers. My beautiful boy and I attend one special game. At least we had one. Falling.
https://twitter.com/TheMrNobodyPod1/status/1301586183022161920 Largest Heroin Bust EVER in the US, makes no headlines!! Read the Article from the link above! Outrageous. It made headline in Mexico. Hmm. This Article with Antonio's name came out days after I made the podcast. A total agent for a Mexican cartel. The drug game destroys everyone along the chain. Poor Mexican villagers are forced to grow poppies and the 2 US supply Mexican cartels with acetic anhydride. The only chem needed to cook h...
The effects lasted a solid week. Dreams and feelings collided and meshed. I started a work project the same week. One foot in and one foot out of this world. I share my reflections I am my reflections I better leave it at that enjoy, i guess
Whoa. I took my daughters invitation to experience DMT. My intention was to get beyond myself somehow, my story, my self, my grief, my interpretation of things. It was a journey into the unknown and meta-life. Crazy wisdom. I disappeared into my primal existence. I was surprised at how happy my authentic state is and how I've been blocked by the sadness over the loss of my son. I heard a voice. I melted back into this life. The document is self explanatory, the experience is unexplainable. Thank...
I prepare myself to experience DMT with my daughter...I'm afraid. Ben, a mercurial friend led us into the park on thanksgiving morning... I recount what I learned from wild mushrooms. My kids asked me to share a sacred experience with them, I regret turning them down. remember the dove, a silhouette against the sky... I face my fear, I cannot rescue him.
I had a psychic connection with my son, especially when thing were seriously wrong. This episode recounts an incident when I knew things were wrong. It was like phone was always ringing but I only heard it when the veil was thin enough. He almost died that night but that was only the beginning of the end. I had some great years mixed in with the drug nightmare. I wish I could have done more. We can't help each other if we don't reveal ourselves. He was right here once. I wrote the theme song whe...
The anchor and the boat are the same. I confess to my addictions. Being honest is painful. Commitment to betterment is the currency of our value. Turn Yourself Around
Our reputation is all we have, it surrounds us as we drag it thru time. We are our actions. I would have worked on the blues form with my son, something I spent so much beautiful time on. Structure, deep feeling and groove. I take you to one of my darkest revelations and the deepest conversion. My children's young faces changed my entire trajectory. I share my shame. The horrors of my inherited and chosen actions unfurl. I've never shown anyone these shadows.
Reflection both light and dark. The song I wrote for him over Bird Changes. Our bodies are on loan and I discuss the ethics of self care, meat, cancer and how it's all about you after all. I explore a deep and dark connection between my father, myself and my son that startles me. I can hear my humor mixed with my pain when i listen back. I search for meaning.
I explore my limited perspective thru my apartment window. Jazz, a Choros, and broken toys permeate my mind. I visit Freud's theory of Alienation and counter balance it with an important insight from Jung. I sort thru permanently deleted messages, crack smokers, hot soup and other dilemmas. My son's voice weaves the performance together as I question my own grasp on knowing anything for certain. Two little birds get it on.
Recorded when fires and looting were accompanying protests, i explore my own relationship to my criminal and slacker past. I tell the story of a neighbor who was shot on the job and visit some close calls. I propose the value of not being an asshole, generally as being one can get you killed. We owe each other the same kindness we show ourselves and hopefully that is an deep kindness. We are all each other. not all silence is golden
I take a journey into the chest of a man I named Fred. I am moved by how different his dead body was compared to my son's. I connect experiences and find threads that I never meant to pull on. I revisit my son the last time I saw him. I compare and contrast how two bodies have such different destinations. I lament how deeply I lament the waste that was my son's final journey. I feel guilt sometimes that I still live. DaVinci and Ravens are woven through this chapter.
Hello there. For your consideration, I jumped this episode forward to release during this weekend. My apologies as it is a bit dark. Music from my past permeates and I even sing a tune I wrote another life ago. I thank you for listening. with deep regard Mr.Nobody
I have to admit my hostility towards hard drug users and especially pushers of heroin, meth, opiates and crack. They are murderers in my opinion. I make some deep confessions of my own hypocrisy. I tried to teach my son that hard drugs would lead to early death and shitty lives. I suppose my own straddling the lines of legality in my own life taught me how wrong and damaging escapism, normalization and drug culture really is. I miss you son.
An intense and detailed story written by my lost son. He was brilliant, this is one episode I can't listen back to as it reminds me of what is lost. There are many bits that refer to his and my life imbedded in his writing. Locations and small details that are all too revealing. I can only imagine what he could have done with his beautiful life. He wanted to be a professional writer. This is my memorial to his dream lost.
