to be timeless.

fragments

dear friends,

My mind is amuck.

I cannot piece the fragments together. I want to capture it all, these fragments I sit with and observe. They run from me, I cannot hold onto them, these Dreams and Memories.

What is the key to it all?

I desire my story to evolve and I find myself at this crossroads once again. I have 5 months until I turn 25. The anxiety and overwhelm continues to rise, Time continues to dilate and move faster. I feel as if I cannot keep up.

The world continues to spin but sometimes I wish for it to slow down. To slow down the race to the end, to the edge of time. Why must life fade so quickly?

In these moments when time dilates, I long to be timeless. We seek out timeless stories, timeless pieces of wisdom, timeless experiences to transcend our own existence. We want to take control back over the passage of time.

Timelessness allows us to anchor ourselves through turbulent times. To find our shared humanity across generations as we walk through our own lives.

your friend(ly)

jakester

post scriptum: this week's letter will be more of a reflective piece of my writing journey and internal thoughts

Immersive Music Choice

April 23rd, 2025 - Pope

The Pope is dead.

In Rome, I find myself.

I was given this fate by a fountain and a friend.

I wrestle between east and west. To make myself whole, I intertwine between them together, oscillating in between.

Am I right to make this judgement call?

I am no God. I am no better than anyone else. I am weary to be the righteous man, full of vengeance and pride. To act high and mighty blinds you of your own hubris, from the fire of your own flames.

I dream of being a renaissance man. I observe and oscillate. I claim this renaissance for myself. I desire to be part of the greats.

To have Da Vinci's Resolve, Michelangelo's genius, Raphael's kindness, and Donatello's rawness to become a digital renaissance man.

I observe the Oscillation between the RED and BLUE, the Two Intertwined Spirits.

I bleed with my Pen to tell a Timeless Tale. I have a Tale to Tell to Impress the Empress. Will my Story be good enough?

A voice calls on me to make the unnoticed known. Is this the Hand of God?

It all plays a role for my Soul, of too much and too little.

"Give them a spectacle" the crowd calls out to me. The seagulls gawking for attention, fighting for the breadcrumbs of time.

Let it flow thru you. The sphere within the sphere.

…

I stand here in Saint Peter's Square.

The Pope was a timeless man. I was taken aback by the timing of it all. This did not feel real, it made me feel weird inside.

We stood in line for hours and I felt the full range of humanity in that moment. I felt the kindness of strangers through conversation, seeing glimpses into their personal lives.

Not much later, when they opened the gates, I witnessed an old lady almost getting trampled on by the mob of people rushing to get through.

Then, moments passed and the crowd calmed as the stars came out.

There, sat a little girl in a purple jacket in the middle of the square. She sat there by the fountain, patiently drawing the ancient dome. The fountain flowed and the flock of seagulls spiraled around the towering monument. I wondered what she saw, what she thought of this whole event, this spectacle. Thousands and thousands lined up up all for one man. The little girl seemed not to care of the crowd, sitting there drawing her little drawing.

It made me really reflect.

As I stepped into the Basilica, I was filled with many mixed emotions. In Ohio, two years ago at the wedding, one of the groomsmen told me to go to Rome. He told me it was my fate to go to Rome and that I would find answers here.

Was this holy man a true prophet?

I couldn't help but feel the great cosmic flood from within. The images of Saint Peter, my Grandpa Roger, and my Auntie Juliet filled my mind. My Auntie Juliet is a nun and she prays for me to become a Priest. This is definitely not what I have in mind for myself.

I continue to see signs and strange synchronicities through my eyes. I think back to the painting on the walls and ceilings. From the Sistine Chapel to the MC Escher paintings back in the Airbnb.

I paid Pope Francis a final farewell. I couldn’t help but feel guilty, filled with turmoil. I observed and watched as people flocked like seagulls to take pictures of his dead corpse.

Am I any better?

I’m a damned seagull, gawking for attention.

…

I prayed and closed my eyes. Clasping my hands, I continued to pray and search for signal. All I could see was dark blue. A blank ocean stared at me. I felt a deep sorrow. I wrote in my journal…

I imagine myself with Death. It haunts me from the past. Yet, I hold no grudge. This is my Shadow. My Dream is my Shadow, in the scaped world roomed within. The blueprint for the Soul is mapped in front of me. The pathways unlocked with the spiraled keys. This must be divine madness-

I do not desire Death. I have this deep-rooted desire to live on after Death. Will my Story live on through Time?

You leave the Basilica with her at your side.

memory gate - April 24th

…

You woke up the moment before Dawn. Something had stirred you awake, as if it called upon you. What was this?

You lay in bed, trying to recollect this Dream. These feelings that lingered left you in this weird neutral space once again. It felt important but you were left with nothing.

"These dreams flee me every morning."

You wrote in your journal. Everyday, you earnestly try to remember, but the contents fo the dreams never fully cross the Memory Gate.

You've had some vivid dreams these past few days, of dragons, monks, and mountains. Of your past, of strange occurrences, and Life itself. You dream incoherently. You cannot make sense of it all, in Time.

You write to piece it all together, this stream of consciousness. You read back to past journal entries.

November 24th, 2024 [3 months of being 24]

24 dreams, you have collected. Some detailed, some lived. Others left your Soul vulnerable. What does it all mean?

You dream within Dreams, slipping into deeper sleep by leaping into another Dream. The sands of the Hourglass fall down in a spiral then rises in reverse.

These Dreams never end. You never know the moment they begin either. You just slip into and out of these Dreams without a moment of notice.

You can feel yourself oscillating between different worlds, touching your Soul at each grasp but never getting a grip. The glass beads of sand flow like water.

No filter, no logic. Just you and your thoughts in this space of Essence. These symbols hold weight. You cannot deny yourself in your Dreams. You carry the pain with you, you carry this resonance. It's timeless, you say.

These voices and hallucinations speak to you in this abyss of your own mind. You cannot catch a breath. Again, you try to piece it altogether, these fragmented shards that form, but your mind continues to grow foggy.

April 24th, 2025 [writing on the plane]

You count with all five fingers on your left hand. Five months have passed. You hold the blue Italian fountain pen, Aurora, in your right. Time dilated.

You search endlessly for the key to your Soul, these spiraled keys crossed in two. These two keys spiral each other like a strand of DNA. Am I the key to myself?

My Soul bleeds into my Mind. Are you a prisoner of your own mind?

April 25th - what do you do with it all?

Life is short, art is long.

I sit here alone in her exhibit. Tori's exhibit.

In motion, everything stood still to me. She had created Art that was Timeless. I wanted to cry. I felt his presence, pointing towards the back wall being projected. The layers of meaning laid everywhere.

July 1969.

Aurora and Roger [Saint Peter] entered into marriage. Apollo 11 landed on the Moon. 1969 truly was a golden year. A timeless year for Humanity.

This room was a tether to the distant past. It made it alive for me. The silhouettes projected spoke to me, as they did before. To me, they had eyes that could see. These observers of Time, fragmented in memory. I could feel the presence of the Bridge.

The key to it all glimpsed at me. Still, within the shadows, behind the door, I could sense the frustration. The overwhelm that came with piecing these fragments together, time after time.

To what end or purpose?

I have a vendetta against Time. Time took him away from us. Time continues to consume the people we love. It consumes you. You cannot escape it, the Eyes that follow. Death dances at your doorstep each day.

What do you do?

We spin the Block and sit on the Moon. Live among the Stars, Illuminate the Night. Make your Essence Seen, your Existence Worth. Fully feel your experience in the Time you have.

Live on, my friend and become Timeless.

Remember, the Snake eats itself.

what do you do with it all?

snippet of time

The Snake eats itself.

You constantly miss the mark. You, a saint?

You slipped. Riddle me this!

I laugh at you. You know nothing of yourself, for I am you.

A stream we are, we flow, intertwined. You cannot get a grip of me, yet you eat away at me, you feel the pain.

You stupid Fool! The Death Spiral awaits!

You can't even remember, what is your name?

… the Wave crashes ~

love is timeless.