I had a medication change from a Zoloft generic to a new medication on November of 2024, which works much differently than the serotonin based zoloft. Changing not only made me susceptible to seasonal affective disorder, but I began to suffer from depression, with Trump winning, my overall mental health took a hit.
Blueskye: Ecoheretic – December 2024
I was not prepared for social media and how people are protected from face-to-face interactions. Because of my medication change i was not prepared emotionaly, I’ve always had little to no armor, and I am very sensative.
I went back on with the intention to network with others to resist. Well, it was a joke. The left is just a shadow of what it was. Different factions segregate themselves from eachother. Feminists vs. Labor, Progressives vs. Democrats, Identity politics vs. Moderate dems, etc… the entire left at war with itself. Walled into their areas of group think. The hatred i felt directed at me for being a white male, as if I had the choice of how I was born, was intense. The hatred I felt for coming out about my sa’s was intense. One poster literally said male assault victims didn’t matter, like it was like saying “all lives matter”. On the right i wasn’t even a man, but a pathetic simp that should be killed, well, left & right that feeling of not belonging to anyone or anything intensified.
This is the fact, I am one man, I am not “all men”, and I am sick of being guilted for the actions of other men and being assaulted does not make me less of a man. Men can have an inner misandrist, it’s real. Being granted victim status however, an adult male is not given it by soceity in fact no one wants to talk about it or deal with it, its taboo. Men have to take it if they want to heal. I had yet to take my victim status, and I needed permission to do it.
So, like any other human, I made myself small after that, cleared my history twice, started publishing some poetry, I couldn’t get it all on my posts, so I researched website platforms and WP was politicaly one of the best, as in it doesnt feed the tech bro’s.
Fate? The first person I connected with on blsky was a misandrist lesbian goethe goth. She needed help and I did help. I don’t think she needed all of it, but whatever happened it got me rediscovering myself & help crack my suppressed memories. She has my eternal thanks.
WP-JP: Echoheretic – March of 2025
At first it started out okay, I would publish on WP and then put the link on Blueskye. I did this till about April, and then left Blueskye, I was done with the instant judgement of my character, things said taken out of context, being blocked, stalked, harassed.
For most of April & May I enjoyed WP-JP. I learned that i liked writing erotica, found out i was good at it. Then another writer started to gaslight me. At first it was uplifting that she would react to my work, but that only lasted so long, everything changed when I came out about my sa’s. Ill just say her initials were DD, and her gaslighting towards me was based on ideology. So I decided to leave for Substack, I was sick of being mistreated.
Substack: Alien Relay 3.0/Eroheretic – May of 2025
Things got better, and then they got worse.
When i moved over to SS the notes part of it just started. In fact it was okay at first, but at the start of 2025 SS was getting a lot of press and getting more popular.
At this time I was emotionaly wrecked, my identity as a white male lefty with strong femenist ideals was on the way to being destroyed, questioning my own masculinity and worth, my confidence destroyed, the moral superiority of the left disgusted me after being on the receiving end. In fact there were times that I felt like it was my fault for my assaults, like I was the one who made them do it. I would literally cry everyday on my way to work, and the way home. It was the only place I could let it out without an audience. That rage i was suppressing, that I didn’t want to let out, but it wanted to be let out, was working its way out. And little at a time “all woman” would pass my mind.
Know this, a person that breaks the narrative is a threat.
I dont do writing prompts often. This is a long memoir, because my journey didn’t just start with me waking up and deciding to put my work online. It was evolution and adaptation that has led me here.
I think what’s more interesting is why i decided to end up using WP-JP as my chosen platform.
I literally have miles of written content & underground published essays, fiction, poetry, prose, illustration, water color painting,activism, political opinion editorials, zines, been in punk bands, music, miles of creation behined me over the long years. The majority in hardcopy, much of it now lost.
I’ve been writing in some capacity most of my life. I normally don’t write biographical peices, because as a fiction and prose writer my experiences are written in as code: I use them indirectly, I enjoy it, its fulfilling to world and character build, and the “act-of-writing” also acts as therapy.
I was Fully active writing until about 2002. After 2000 my focus went to education, I got a BS in Ecology, spending a few summers doing Marine Ecology based on islands both in the north Pacific and north Atlantic.
Me at a hotel drinkng retreat I set up in New Hampshire in the summer of 1999 when I spent 4 months doing Marine Ecology and working on Appledore Island off the coast of New Hampshire.
In Wisconsin i did lot’s of invasive species work, herbariums for the Mueseum, urban forestry surveys, worked in a vineyard, etc…but Ecology jobs were in short Supply and I needed insurance. So I became a Field Chemist cleaning up Hazardous Waste. I traveled the midwest, plains states, and the south for about 2ish years, untill i got a Biotech job. I liked the travel, but my mind was on not getting poisoned, melted by acids and bases, or blowing up.
2010-2011: Alien Relay 2.0 an online political blog in the wake of the Wisconsin Uprising after the Republicans killed public unions.
In 2012: My writers block and a loss-of-self began…………Summer of 2019: I had a trauma reaction from my relationship that expressed itself in a long hypersexual period & delibating anxiety & dissociation, this unhealthy awakening would lead to something even more traumatic. I Dabled in hook-up apps, reddit, kik, AFF, etc….was catfished, scammed, grifted on…I failed in spectacular fashion trying to hook-up…I learned these things were not for me. You needed to be hard, cynical, and couldn’t trust anything. Funny thing at this time, I thought non-binary meant people who didn’t use dating apps. 😅 That’s either really cute or appallingly ignorant, I like to think a little of both.
December 2019: Covid fears start worldwide as China is hit hard in Chengdu.
January 2020: At the biotech firm we got a majority of are synthetic DNA bases from Chengdu, we started masking and gloving up in the material handling/hazardous waste department I ran. I often worked by myself for weeks, while coworkers were out due to early social isolation recommendations.
April 2020: Covid hits New York; by then i fully surpressed my needs. The biotech firm i worked for created Nucleotides, which were needed for the first few rounds of the MRNA vaccines, where i worked was one of the few places that made it and mostly for research before Covid. My Zoloft generic dose was doubled by my psychiatrist, i also started to become a serotonin zombie, increasing my already strong dissociation and suppressing my sexual needs. We would get a year’s worth of material in 3 weeks! Needless to say from the start of 2020 till when I was downsized/fired in August of 2022 (the corporation execs needed more ponies for their children). I was busy nonstop from the second I walked into work to the second I left work. I was 120% exhausted. However I am proud of the work i did, I helped save untold numbers of people’s lives by working with purpose, regardless of recognition I wear my work in that period as a badge of honor.
November 2023: On a November in 2023 on a Thursday i was locked out of the house, then I was sexually assaulted twice by two different woman in one night. I suppressed that trauma deep within me, telling nobody until January of 2025. Until this day, my immediate family does not know.
November 2015: I left social media, Facebook, in 2015 after I learned how Zuckerberg/FB with Cambridge Analytica’s help, helped Trump win by data-mining and targeting people. Being politically active, that was enough for me to quite, I also felt SM as hallow. In December of 2024 after Trump won, my politically active-self stirred and I joined Blueskye to battle X. Fact: Many X’ers that either left SM earlier like I did or it was their first time became active on Blueskye.
Holy Fuck! I was, we were, not prepared at all for what Social Mediabecame!
Energy Given freely Is as breathing For me Understanding Until now, ive had so much of it But, frankly I Am Utterly Exhausted I Speak Truth I Endless hope I Set Boundries I Don’t give up ……Why do I feel guilty?
Truth I am prey Human predators smell empathy As Sharks smell blood in the water Allowing myself to be used without equal reciprocity Used Endless cycle(s) of neglect Affection to weapon Sex to Weapon Shrunk as weapon Tool of endless emotional grounding Control Power Stability Comfort
I Am Tired …….So very very tired And I’m afraid I Have Changed I Am Broken Victim Survivor Pariah
A life devoid of touch, love, passion, a pillar of rough-hewn granite, to make other’s lives more comfortable so they don’t have to feel guilt. A mirrored avatar to reflect what they want to see; taking responsibility for the cowardly acts of their Phantoms. Selfish Ideological Narcissists, making victims that exist in the interstitial spaces, Acceptable losses in the war. A living taboo, stigmatized, no one wants to touch this flesh, it is taboo made real. Aged masculinty shattered into dull edges, ego ripped out, longtime ideological identity destroyed; the devouring mother’s hunger satiated.
I no longer want to try to identify with anyone, as anyone, or with any group. All are phantoms. The gulf is now infinite. Not your spaces in-between, because nothing exists on either side. Playing my part in the background, while the Phantoms roleplay; it’s the curse of total detached awareness & empathy. Pain hidden in the shadows, invisible to all.
Pariah is my rightful place, I am the sacrificial king: I will let this demon eat my soul.
……and I will REVEL in the consumption
One with the Pariah that haunts the interstitial spaces
the Pariah that whispers to the phantoms in your nightmares
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.
This is a long read. Just a quarter of this novel I wrote awhile ago. I cringe at some of it, because I was younger, with a great lack of wisdom. Although I think I caught detail of the action pretty well.
I don’t usually preface my prose, but I think this one is important that I explain. This peice comes at the end of a hard year plus of soul searching after acknowledging to myself that I was sexuslly assaulted. After nearly two years plus I buried it deep, but in the fall of 2024 on a cold morning while filling my car at Costco it all came back and hit me like bricks of ice. I barely made it through the day at work, but I did it somehow. All assault victims experience the same things, but men especially white men are given very little acceptance or grace by soceity as a whole, left & right ideologies judge heavy on your worth after, or even your right to claim victimhood in a world that wants you silent. It took most of the year to consider myself a survivor.
I guess its the times, but I have spent a very long time pondering aggreivment after being swallowed by it and spit out. The pull to hate and rage at those of the opposite sex was strong, some days it had consumed me. Too blame ALL women for the actions of a few, is absurd! I don’t want to be bitter or aggrieved, I think this poem captures the toxic cycle of aggreived victimhood. I had come to terms and this poem exposes what it is. Yours, Jake
Why does the bar tip the other way, while trying to equate and balance both sides? to much weight on one pan the fulcrum tilts, the beam always holds, the beam always wins
the villians are now the oppressed, the once oppressed villians
Transmutation of suffering into bitter rage Alchemized survivor becomes the predator
Spittle & spite Vengance so bright Inferior to superior Your Humanity now blight
My dear organizing systems forming entwining, no boundaries of the bottomless hunger of self-righteous rage the victims, the survivors
It doesnt matter to It who is in control, It doesnt care about justification, the thing exists.
Hoary worm of eons crushes bones, devours flesh, pukes blood, gnashing sinew, slurps guts, sucks entrails smashed made into mash Bulbous rot, engorging the gullet, suffering inside the gaping hole, digested birthing vile gas from the fermented bile of humanities sins
Orborus the obese worm, engorged distented on your suffering; prey-as-to-predator-to-victim-survivor-as-to-predator…as-to-victim…it’s the sweet….
History teaches us a lesson about what the majority of the insanely rich and powerful become, how their brains devolve into psychosis, those that exist “As Above”; viewing the rest of us as meat bound chattle, flesh to be exploited, blood to be guzzled, to kill us with impunity, injure us, as if swallowing and bathing in the blood of virgins & the young can unwrinkle your skin or stop the ends of your DNA strands unraveling. The ultra-wealthy the powerful (abomination), these people use your labor, use disease, abort your health from the pollution they dump in your air, your water to make profit, use everthing to enrich themselves futher and steal your power, your health, & your confidence. The supposed miracle of laize-faire capitalism birthed into bloody flesh ripping cannibalism, disembowling itself, hedging itself, gorging itself on it’s own innards, betting on failure, only to leave shit, piss, bile, and gnashed bone.
Make you small, weak, prey.
Keep Rotting in the Free World
Consumer or consumed, your life is cheap Economic salvation in sweatshops returned from the east,
Despair the only quality of strife,
A reason for existence if you can afford the price,
If your price is right
250 years of the USA and it has birthed another generation of Nero’s, Bathory’s, D’sade’s, Caligula’s; your Maxwell’s, Diddy’s, Epsteins, Trumps, Fergusons, intelligence agencies…..we have called them the wealthy, rich, celebrities, CEO’s, intellectuals, left right, liberal conservative.
Ghouls who survive on the cannabilism of their fellow human beings. Spheres of power, as a super predator, you are the prey. They rape, commit genocide, murder, pollute and without question prove that wealth & power twist their humanity into abomination. Each inch given by us, the unwashed riff-raff, brings humanity a few feet closer to speciecide. The instable hunger of the abomination from insane levels of concentrated wealth and it’s self-serving power.
Multiple spheres of power coalesce, using other’s for the physical manifestation of their cruelty. It’s not enough to raise the prices of medication, or dump PCB’s in the water, force hunger, or steal your labor; they need to exert that power on living targets they can touch; deflowerimg by the domination of the powerless, those invisible. Rape is the goal, seeing the cruelty they created by their own hands, yielding that power must be seen physically and mentally on a victim, to enforce the fact that they beleive themselves “On High” over the rest of us who do not exist in their incestual nucleus of spheres; to manifest it, on a small scale for selfish gratification. The sweet suffering of the helpless; A sacrifice to their gluttonous god they worship: Themselves!
Bathing in your arrogance, dining will ensue God made me a cannibal to fix problems like you
I heard this song after Trump was elected the second time. All I can say it’s fitting for those who complained the first round about the corrupt grifting Fool King, but quickly became apathetic & drowned in the temple of self again, when Biden was elected. I blame those who didn’t vote, the self-gelding of the left, the democrats cutting off their balls, and apathetic people for this second round of Trump. Republicans & MAGA were known quantities, they didn’t lie about who and what they would do. The right has built a 50 year infrastructure to take over the nation fueled by billionaires, not a conspiracy, reality.
Trust my dog Shut your eyes (you’re dead)
Televised mass poison spitting at the screen Keep the masses deluded with fabricated dreams Powdered God in a bag from the Vatican I want you to fuck off as hard as you can
Relax God is in control Watch the dot Take your meds Obey my demands Trust my dog Time for surgery Relax God is in control Watch the dot Take your meds Obey my demands Trust my dog Shut your eyes (you’re dead)
Heaven has burst open, now it’s raining bones The chaos will erode you, breeding little clones Born of a fallen rib from the monkey’s womb Overcooked by cathode rays, evolved to consume
100% 100% 100% 100% (fucked)
(Relax, God is in control) (Watch the dot, take your meds) (Obey my demands, trust my dog) (Time for surgery, relax)
Eating from the butcher’s slab, becoming what they meet Restrained and roasted while they gorge, strapped into the seat Bathing in your arrogance, dining will ensue God made me a cannibal to fix problems like you
Relax (God is in control) (Watch the dot, take your meds) (Obey my demands, trust my dog) 100% (Relax, God is in control) (Watch the dot, take your meds) (Obey my demands, trust my dog) 100%
Last time was the last time This time you’re 100% Last time was the last time This time you’re 100% Last time was the last time This time you’re 100% Last time was the last time This time you’re 100% Fucked
Written by: Learmont Karl Thomas Album: Krankhaus Released: 2006
Crotan on the right ive had at least 26 years, sword, then a huge Monstera, Money Plant, Australian Fern and I forgot the species on the farm left.To the right a species of Prickly Pear, then two other cacti i forget the species of. The one on the left has a effed up growth pattern from years of slow growth, it’s a bit phallic.Madagascar Palm at least 10 years old. Transplanting hurts, a lot.
FYI – I have a BS in Ecology. I took a lot of botany invertebrate zoology, mycology, loved studying algae, lots of marine as well and other focuses, because Ecology is multidisciplinary in nature. It’s really a deep-dive into system dynamics.
Always loved house plants before that though, hence a portion of my plant army.
“What’s a stupid thing you do or say, and you know it’s dumb, that slightly annoy’s other people, but you do it anyway because you think it’s funny and you don’t care it annoy’s others?”
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
So back in 2015 I stopped using Facebook and Social media all together, i did have a My Space before that. In-between I dabled in Reddit, twitter, and Instagram all of which in my point of view are cesspools. Not that I’m a saint, but I detest those who catfish & scam, trolls, asshole partisians, virtue superiority signaling, maga, aggreivment gender supremacist, trauma grifters, and the general way people treat eachother with disrespect and make instant judgements on your life and character. Also, the stalkers, who go after you, plenty of those ass hats.
I orginally quit social media in 2015 for two reasons, with my friends it felt hallow and fake why not just talk, the second was how MAGA used it with Cambridge Anylitica to get Trump elected, blatant manipulation and FaceBook was cool with it: that was to me grounds to tell FB to fuck off. I haven’t been back since, nor Amazon for that matter. I’ve always made decsions based on my politics and where I spend my money and what platform I allow to advertise to me i take important. One of the reasons I left Substack, because it’s owned by a libertarian tech bro. After the Charlie kirk assination they let MAGA gaslight and make death threats for at least a week. I have no doubt just like Zuckerberg & X, soon as a writer or blogger they will write into the terms that your work, copyright, or IP will no longer be protected.
The thing that disappoints me the most about social media is relationships with other people, or the superficiality of them. I am a person who always is trying to “bond”. I’ve found that the vast majority of people you think you are bonding with are not treating the experience of learning about eachother the same way you would physically, as in face to face. It’s as if the wired has a “buffer” that keeps these bonds that you build from ever becoming reality. I can’t imagine how it is to date with online apps, it must be like going through a menu at a 24 hour greek restaurant at 3am with a bunch of other drunk people.
In December of 2024, I went back in and to blueskye trying to push back against X like many X’ers, then came WordPress for my writing, then I left both for Substack in may of 2025 (also, partly because a WordPress writer was actively gaslighting me). I went to SS just when the notes part (the social media part) of SS came online. Though, I met a lot of cool people on Blueskye & Substack many who had helped me through some of the toughest emotionaly horrible months of my life, there has been only one that I have a meaningfull relationship with that I have from all of it.
The cruelty I faced for coming out regarding my assaults was sometimes overwhelming. The anger and spite directed at me for speaking out just to be heard, the cruelty, the hate, the rage. I finally had enough of it on SS too, like I had on Blueskye. Living with an assault considered taboo, I have no idea what I was thinking trying to find answers on social media sites. I was desperate just to find some grace in a world that views you as a villian at birth, even though you were not the villian, and the experience goes against the narrative.
Now, I plan on staying on WordPress. The last year has been an education for me. Social media is not for some people, I am one of them.
I’m a writer, on the darker side, and a terrible artist, but what I show you and what you read is genuine, it’s from my heart and mind. The majority of the art or images I take myself.
I give you me and I ask nothing from you in return.
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.
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.
I’m usually not one to use my wired space for intense philosophical questions & reflection, for Absurdum. But I am anyway, I present to you a hot cock in all it’s glory.
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?
Ecoheretic 