Hello my brother,

Its been over a month since I have written (you). Much and little has changed. Since arriving back to the states I have graduated college, found a new place to live, started a business, worked through a breakup, sold art, made a bit of money, paid down some debts, and cut out ALL of the toxic, non-contributory people from my life. I have been working ceaselessly. It feels great to be home. I love my small town Montana vibe. I love going to familiar places and seeing familiar faces. I feel like a big fish in a small pond.

Physically, I have been active almost every single day. I have continued my education in jujitsu and I get in some standup-striking as much as possible. I’m considering getting into MMA. I work two jobs five days a week. Between jobs I go to the local park and climb the bouldering rock they have placed there, I also tend to couple climbing and martial arts with running. I feel great. My energy is through the roof! In fact, that’s what’s got me writing you. I mean, I love to write, and I love you; but I absolutely cannot sleep. It’s after one in the morning. I worked my ass off at two jobs today, had an intense philosophical and religious dialectic with Natasha, and I played over two hours of music once I got home. I only slightly feel as if my brain is going to explode, but better out than in they say.

I miss you dearly, though at this moment my emotional sensibilities are somewhat out of sight and out of mind, which considering my tendency toward excessive rumination, is a good thing. After having an amazingly challenging and rewarding conversation with our sister, I have decided to have her as my third guest on my podcast. Did I tell you I’m starting a podcast? It’s called “Mystic Monkey.” The name is derived from the seeming dual nature of humans. On one hand we are like gods. We have harnessed our capacity and potential to create great things. We build rocket-ships to the moon, implant hearts in the chests of the dying, and use genetic engineering to bring back creatures that have long since been extinct. Our technological proficiency and expansion is proliferating almost out of control. It’s incredible. However, we are also monkeys. With our profound power and ability of material authorship, what do we do? We kill each other. We rape, we pillage, we dominate, and we hurt one another. It’s hard for us to watch our significant other talk to the opposite sex without us puffing into a territorial cumulonimbus-like buffoon. It’s asinine. But, alas. We are evolving. The monkey within us tends to our primordial and base impulses, satisfying those natural needs and ultimately nourishing and protecting the god within that allows us to spurn forth the creative essence of the universe and further advance the masturbation of consciousness. In this sense then, humans are not so dual after all.

I’m learning Spanish as well. It is fun and rewarding. My brain is primed for linguistic expansion so it feels gratifying to water the roots where the soil is rich so the flower can bloom ripe. I miss your divine word flow. You, as myself, were a true poet. My ego wants to say there aren’t many of us left. It wants to succumb to the trope of the tortured artist. The artist that can only produce beauty through his profound relationship with sorrow and madness. My soul, however, knows that we bards are plentiful on this world. Though some of us have yet to succumb to our nature, many of us are pushing through the pavement, bruised like bananas at the bottom of the basket we are ripening to the point of death and finally being selected and cooked into the sweetest bread around. Fuck, that was a weird metaphor.

I wish you could see your niece and nephew. No, I haven’t had children. I am talking about Vivian and Warren. They are like little humans now. It’s simultaneously beautiful and unsettling to watch their physical and personal maturation. I repeatedly yell to our mother and the world that I am never having children. They know as well as I do that this is a lie. I have always been paternal. Fatherhood is something that has felt intrinsic to my being since I was a child. I’m terrified to create them though. I’m afraid of all they would experience and be. I’m afraid of the world I would be bringing them into. Life is intense. But I also know I have to release this sense of personal responsibility to them and allow them to become the children of Gaia. Which is exactly what this planet needs. Humans that are absolutely convicted and committed to the bettering and honoring of the present moment and every single one that follows after this. I feel like I’ve glimpsed into the future and seen myself as a parent, and I know that it will bring me (has brought my future self) another level of fulfillment, humility, and compassion. I cannot wait. But for now, FUCK THAT SHIT.

I am going to attempt to sleep now. It’s hella late, and I have another long, productive, and awesome day waiting for me on the other side of the sunrise. Until next time, PEACE, POWER, and GOD.

I love you.

…nuerotic af,

Dillan