Big Pharma created this blog.

As far back as I can possibly create memory; I remember seeing my mind as a playground. My younger years held place to many isolated hours. Embracing every moment I had for inward contemplation, I would quickly retreat to the inner realm of my being to frolic amid the endless bounty, local only to my imagination.

I’d think, ponder that thought, and then question my motives for pondering. All the while, watching these nuro-intaglements as my awakened observational being. I’d passively snicker at the self-centered thoughts of my unconscious mind as my observational being would wonder deeper into the multiverse of my consciousness. Now naturally, I was unable to articulate this in my youth, so my parents and teachers mostly knew me as A.D.D.

 A problem easily countered with the guiding embrace of the Big Pharma. 

In the 3^rd Grade, that embrace was explained to me only as, “Pills that will make you a better student.” And I’d be receiving this embrace twice a day; a full in the morning, half after lunch.

 They didn’t work for me though. Well I mean, I became a quite, well-greased (if you will) cog in the machine of institutionalized education… But they didn’t work for me.

I felt they worked against me. The only reality my being could arrange was that I had nothing in my head, aside from the annually practiced class lesson for the day. These pills ejected all inner thought, and collected only the words that leaked before me, from the mouth with an un-admitted creationist bias.

This reality, I also could not properly articulate at the time... If asked, however I probably could have said something like “Well, since taking the good student pills I have been feeling like I’m not my head.”

But why ask me?

 As a child, given my credentials: how could my answer even find room atop the corporate pedestal, what proclamations by Big Brother Pharma called home?

Home field advantage indeed.

 Big Brother Pharma sang a tune prescribed just for my clinically depressed and unfortunate head.  Zoloft, the new penicillin for dark thoughts, described to me only, as “happy pills.” Every morning, The thin “happy pill” looked like the stem of the blossoming circular “good student pill.”

In the afternoon with the stem shortened and the circle halved, I thought it took on the shape of a mushroom. Flower in the morning…Mushroom after lunch…the occasional green liquorish tasting liquid for sleep…And repeat.

This was a confusing routine for me.

So in the 8^th grade, after 5 years, I came to an unusual conclusion wherein, I could have control of the muscle and bone that flexed beneath my skin. It was from this series of flexing and manipulating my destiny will fall. It was time for me to relieve the pharmaceutical pilot and take my spot at the captain’s chair.

 I just stopped taking my medication one day.

My journy has not been without turbulence and close calls in the proceeding years as I attempted to navigate the minefield of being a teenager.

I have experienced drastically diverse states of mind and trends of thought and behavior, experimenting across all boundaries in search for more valid truths in the world and in myself.

This, complex series of physical and emotional tuning is indeed what lead me to my profession as a writer and filmmaker: my obsession with the attempt to translate thoughts and images of my consciousness in to word and picture.

I would be a liar if I said this blog was anything more than a database dedicated to the ramblings of my inner monologue. To be used as a personal reference to more accurately develop and grow my thoughts and beliefs. Thus logging reason and existential growth as my mind churns, in constant contemplation of finding truth in our world, and making sense of the eternal flow of our inner consciousness.

My thoughts are public, because it’s good to think, ask questions, and sometimes read from a point of view conflicting with your own. If any of my words can do either for you, I will truly value that between us connection.