Right Back Where I Started
I've been manipulating pixels again. Some artists call it painting, but I don't use paint.
It's such a strange dream.
I can't describe this place in words. I don't know why my brain takes me there. I don't know what it means yet. What you see above is what I saw while I was sleeping.
You didn't know that most of what I've been showing you since 2016 comes straight from my dreamland.
I think I have visions. I'm given clues to my life, constantly. They never make sense at the time. It's just a dream. I forget most dreams. Some stand out, unforgettable.
I was once standing on a patio.
Behind me was the house. Water surrounded the patio in the dream but in life, it's not there. I was confused.
Whales and dolphins swam freely in this lake all around me. There were thousands of them. No sharks.
I can still see what I saw. It didn't make sense then. It was just a dream, from a long time ago... until I came here. Now that dream seems to mean something else, so I continue to look.
I've seen the end of the world.
I had a window seat.
Was it the end of the world or was I looking at a new beginning?
You've seen some of these images before, I know. I always told a different story though. Something creative. I'd paint my dreams and turn them into something everyone else would believe. I'd release them one at a time. I never once put them together like that to show you how they're all tied together somehow.
Right Back Where I Started comes from the same place as this:
I always stop and sit at my grave when I end up going for that walk. I don't know who most of those people are. One is me. If you can't see them, just know they're dressed in black and look to the sky.
When it's time to go, I turn around. Things start to get brighter. I think it's the sun coming up.
I don't know who she is. She's always hiding in plain sight like that. She scared me the first time. Now she laughs and bugs me about it. I still haven't seen her face.
You've seen my dreams. I've taken you to hell. I won't show those today. I didn't go for that walk again last night. Maybe you pay attention, maybe you don't. There's always a door leading out. I always get there but I usually wake up before I can leave because it's so exciting. I've painted that door so many times. You've seen it. Nobody knew what it meant until now.
I hear a lot of words. Some are good, some are bad.
You'll notice I become quite vocal if I feel cornered and need to stand up for myself. People tell me I shouldn't let things bother me, let it slide. I do. I try.
Recently, I was told I burned art on Steemit for 80k by a prominent member of this community. I didn't know what she meant by that. I took it personally but said nothing about how much it hurt. Where I come from, to burn means to insult someone. In my mind, it was a fancy way of telling me my art insults all of the other artists here.
Feeling devastated, I stopped producing new art and focused mainly on comedy. I tried my best to turn it all into a positive but if you've been paying attention you'll also notice a few recent posts mention other instances of negative forces trying to pull me down. I'll be honest with you right now and tell you that these things have snowballed into something that is attempting to kill me. For the past few days I've hinted that I may be headed to a dark place. This is what I meant by that. I don't feel good. I'm tired, and I don't feel welcome.
Then I'm reminded of the dreams I have.
When I released this piece above, I asked everyone to tell me what they saw. I never told anyone what it really means to me.
In July of 2012 my uncle passed away. I wasn't able to be there because I was too focused on a career I hated and a beer bottle which I hated even more.
The night he passed away, he met up with me in the liquor store parking lot before I was about to head inside. He stopped me, I was shocked to see him there, we started small talking. I told him I wasn't happy with my life. He told me not to worry. I insisted there was nothing left for me. He comforted me and told me I'd be wealthy someday. I didn't believe him, I asked how. He responded with, "painting." Then I woke up. I was dreaming. That was the last time I ever saw him.
For years after, I thought about that dream. For the longest time, I thought he meant I'd be painting houses. Walls and stuff...
