*at heart I am a mystic/driven by the Spirit*

Bliss taunts me
From the other side of the mirror
Where I've seen those heavenly shores
Imagination clothes brilliance
It is enough
More than enough
It is everything and all things
Nothing and anything
To inhabit as a world of my own
Satisfied in the simple observance
Yes I've basked in the glow of ethereal Oneness
The memory keeps me running
On the promise of reconciliation
And this I believe:
From One I came
To One I shall return
Let all that stands between
Remain as it is, what it is
That I may give it all away when the time comes
And I have Someone to give it to

from Bipolar Confessional

Maternal Geneology

This is about all I could glean from a free trial subscription to Ancestry.com.

Maternal grandparents:
Arthur Gibson Vanzant 1893-1967
Birth 2 November 1893 in Arkansas
Death April 1967 in Paden, Okfuskee County, Oklahoma
Helen Vanzant

Great-grandparents:
William Lewis Harrison Vanzant 1852-1908
Birth 2 June 1852 in Alabama
Death 2 March 1908 in Paden, Okfuskee County, Oklahoma
Martha L. Kilgore 1944-1917

Great-Great-grandparents:
William G. Vanzant 1817-1891
Birth 1817 in Tennessee
Death 20 January 1891 in Booneville, Prentiss County, Mississippi
Catherine Baker 1825-1894

Great-Great-Great grandparents:
James VanZandt 1784-1852
Birth 13 July 1784 in Rutherford County, North Carolina
Death 1852 in Tennessee
Sally Upgrove

Great-Great-Great-Great grandparents:
Garrett VanZandt Jr. 1745-1830
Birth 17 August 1745 in North Carolina
Death 27 August 1830 in Barren County, Kentucky
Margaret Smith 1760-1851

Great-Great-Great-Great-Great grandparents:
Garret VanZandt 1709-1787
Birth 1709 in Bensalam, Bucks County, Pennsylvania
Death 23 March 1787 in Rutherford County, North Carolina
Mary Ann Groome 1708-1796

That's right...I couldn't find anything from my dad's side...

Compilation Playlist - Garage A-Go-Go Redux

I lost the original Garage A-Go-Go playlist in which I basically compiled every 60s garage rock and psychedelic band I could find on Spotify. It was a massive undertaking but fun. The results were gratifying too and it wasn't too hard to decide whether or not I should go through the toil and trouble of trying to replicate it, knowing that I probably would miss a few things. What I came up with may well be missing but I think I got the best stuff and may have even come upon some gems I missed the first time around. There is the notable edition of British "Mod" music that I decided to include with the rest because it has a similar enthusiastic amateurish quality to it that I find endearing. 

Phong's Absolution

Phong hit the ground
Within a second of the sound
Of the gunshot that laid him down
Loosened the grip on his own weapon
At the moment of impact
It fell with a thud
Next to his body in the mud
When his head hit the hard earth
He heard thunder and saw light

The bullet in the North Vietnames man's skull was made in America
Loaded by The Poet earlier that afternoon
Along with the rest of his ammo
In the second after Phong died
Poet lowered his sight
And came to an abrupt and awkward halt
There was no denying the man was hit
Even less to prove the man was dead
The hole in the back of the metal helmet
Was the same size as the hole in the back of the dead man's head

Instinct bred caution even so
As The Poet slowly tread the fifteen yards
Between where he stood and where Phong lay
He crouched down
Rolled him over slowly
Placed his fingers on the corpse's eyelids
(I know you can see me)
Shut them gently
(May the darkness be your savior)

The Poet took the bayonet knife bolstered at his side
Pressing down on Phong's shoulder
He cut an incision between the man's chest muscles
With a gentle sawing he cut through tendons and bone
Until a trough had formed
A six inch baptismal filled with blood
Still almost warm as life
The Poet plunged his left hand deep into the pool
Grabbed hold of Phong's heart and tugged
He caught the resistance of the arteries
And severed them
With the knife in his right hand

Raising the dripping organ to his nose
The poet inhaled deeply the strange odor
Inspiration teased
Quickly The Poet brought Phong's heart to his mouth
With a huge bite his mouth was full
His brain felt as it would explode
The drama and the dreams of the whole world
He chewed and savored the flavor
He had come to appreciate it during his time in the jungle
As well the firm gelatinous texture
The saltiness of the blood
This was The Poet's reward

With the last swallow he wiped his hands on Phong's shirt
He felt a piece of paper folded in the right pocket
A letter, written in Vietnamese
And though he didn't know the language
Somehow a few sentences made sense

"Confessor
My soul is tormented
I am a liar
My wicked heart has made me do despicable things
Words and actions without regard
Of consequences
Things that would hurt people, if they only knew
If they knew what I have done
They would rise against me and do murder
I would deserve whatever punishment they saw fit
For I am a renegade poet
And I have lost all respect for the art"

As he finished reading the page
The Poet felt nausea in his gut
He dropped the paper
Bent over and vomited
He heaved several times until his stomach was empty
Then he just stood there, hands on knees
Staring at the mess
(I have a message for all mankind)
He forced himself to look at it
Until inspiration left him

He reached for his gun
Stood up and walked to Phong's rifle
Bent to pick it up as well
Strapping it to his side
The Poet walked away
As a gentle breeze blew the confession
Far from Phong's lonesome body

- from Bipolar Confessional