I’ve been reluctant to share this one. The vulnerable parts of me in this water color are still part of me now.
Some people re-invent themselves, that is a skill I don’t possess. I carry everything because it’s me and good or bad I own it, and owing it is important. If you don’t own your choices, you make villians of others as an excuse for your actions. There is far to much of that in our world.
I have no white whale to consume my soul, I am that white whale. Born a beast a monster: failures, oppression, hurt, murder, rape, death, genocide, femicide, and even your internal misery. I am your enemy i am your monster.
qualities you possess, your biological virtuous signaling superiority; a kingdom built of rage safe space for authority
victimhood aggreivment gives you power, self righteous-justification, superior unquestioned objectification
of me, the white whale
pluck out my eyes, spear my flesh, spill my blood, sickle my fat, bind my girth, blind me with your spit, hell hath no fury like your scorn upon me, i am your monster, your beast, a sacrifice for the goddess your ruler above, penetrate me, rape me, a mangled object your conquest that was born guilty
Yes be Ahab, understand
While lashed on your shattered ship
Sinking into the ocean abyss
”Damning yourself was a choice, you created your end by decision, your agency was your own.”
“Never understanding the nature of revenge while you let me consume your soul, do you understand you never were free, as long as all your thoughts were always centered on me.”
I, the white whale swims free, I will forever, be the last thing your living eyes ever shall see
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2025.
This was a compilation punk 7″ from the early 90’s to support the Mowhawk native American Resistance against the Mexican government. This is a lesson on what needs to happen in the United States.
To resist is to change yourself.
You must become a warrior.
We out-number the villians in this world.
There is NO room for apathy.
Only TOTAL resistance.
I gave up art & illustration for writing way back in ancient times (okay early 90’s). I just realized a few weeks ago that my art & writing fed off eachother. The art and drawing i did, was/is an actual funneling of my sub/unconscious mind into visual reality.
©️ Jacob A. Pickard. 2026.
Each of us is a temple of ego: a beacon to the uncaring universe, that has no value for organic, the growth, over the membrane of existance.
What? You think that you are the pinnacle of creation (or evolution for the atheists)
How precious?
We, you, us, an abberation in the universal plan. We know existence is a curse. The Increased organization & order brings suffering, losers in an extistance that will disappear, we are nothing.
Fighting against the entropy of bliss, we are the chaos in a reality evolving into absolute nothing, perfection.
I write this to make us small? Is this an excerise to crush your ego? Or to test it?
Does it matter?
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2026
Ecoheretic 