Miss Leigh, I think it'd be wise to take a breath in the waiting room...

one of these days very soon I’m going to be able to just go 
to shows all the time and write about them and just do what 
I want and IT IS GOING TO BE AWESOME.

Rad.
Totally cool.
Fucking Dope.

I can taste it.
Oh My God, so SOON.

Ugh right now though,
within the pressure of this breath
overestimation motivation
the weight is adding stress

recollect
I’m pulling the covers over my head
I have to hold back
& finish what I start
mold these pieces steady 
otherwise I’ll crack
________________________________
Fugazi just happened to be playing as I was writing, and so I looked up the lyrics and found them rather Ironic— Only I’m not in the “Waiting Room”, I need to be— I just need to remember to be patient and enjoy things so I don’t forget how to BE HAPPY always in the place that I am ________*) I don’t want to do things 1/2assed and wait for tomorrow to feel more manageable, I can take my time I forgot that it’s me who chooses the pace of breath…..
_______________________________________________

I am a patient boy
I wait, I wait, I wait, I wait
My time is water down a drain

Everybody’s moving
Everybody’s moving
Everything is moving,
Moving, moving, moving

Please don’t leave me to remain
In the waiting room

I don’t want the news
(I cannot use it)
I don’t want the news
(I won’t live by it)

Sitting outside of town
Everybody’s always down
(Tell me why)

Because they can’t get up
(Ahhh… Come on and get up)
(Come on and get up)

But I won’t sit idly by
(Ahhh…)
I’m planning a big surprise
I’m gonna fight
For what I want to be

And I won’t make the same mistakes
(Because I know)
Because I know how much time that wastes
(And function)
Function is the key
Inside the waiting room

I don’t want the news
(I cannot use it)
I don’t want the news
(I won’t live by it)

Sitting outside of town
Everybody’s always down
(Tell me why)

Because they can’t get up
(Ahhh… Come on and get up)
Up from the waiting room

Sitting in the waiting room
(Ahhh…)
Sitting in the waiting room
(Ahhh…)
Sitting in the waiting room
(Ahhh…)
Sitting in the waiting room
(Ahhh…)
(Tell me why)
Because they can’t get up

can somebody just pay me to rhyme all day long...seriously, i'd love that.

We are all packed up and in with all we need
here on our missions
released from light we came to life
in a fruition of divine division
the notes playing bleed intuition
but the road ahead is winding
and charcoal thunder clouds soar above indecision.

It's almost time for new tires.
I don't even notice the pressure
as its burning rubber down to wire.

Sometimes I get so lost

trying to decipher destiny in desire

Losing logic to lust and love to liars

walking the plank one of them prepared to jump

but in a flash the drop retired

the heat rose up from the belly of the fire

tricked into trance in a state of admirer

pushing past the stillness

a coalition of currents came chaotic

feel this?

I think I'm getting a scooter....

It finally happened. My little jeepy jeep is no more.  I walked outside of my apartment this afternoon around 3 and had planned on going to whole foods to get a bottle of wine, a mango Kambucha and a chocolate chip cookie. That is, until I found out that my car was not where I left it. In my mind I retraced my steps from the night before. I got home at 4 am.. I probably shouldn't have been driving. I went to park my car on the street outside of my apartment and I remember being compelled to take it around to the back and park where I usually do. Figuring the less time I spend in the car the better,  I forfeited the effort of looping the block and crossing Ventura Blvd.

samsara escapes the death grip on youth...

We are the indigo kids
Reconstructed.
A new generation.
The wavelengths reformatted.
This is the beginning of creation
Translate.
Or.. Fall into the static inferno.
The old ways are outdated,
we're painting the past, present and future
Eternal.

The world has been pickled by the hearts of men,
greed multiplied by grief and back again.
Colonial green further darkened the the light,
with rusted blood lines their branches descend,
natural laws phased from the masses,
purposely distorting things like the value of oxygen..
Skulls in hoods stole the bones from intuition.
The unnoticed incision.

I'm a Hopi Indian
we're all a part of them.

We were once monks in Tibet..

The Earth has turned soil for centuries

mind bodies digested with enzymes of human regret..

We are the people with the triangle on our foreheads,

we've come to catalyze the reset

we are here to take care of tomorrow,

to spark fire in life and give love truth to defend

all these life cycles seemed like only seconds

in the grand spectrum of the end

but they've added up--

recycled souls, we can no longer pretend

look close...

the moon shines through
a beacon of truth. awaken third eye.

There's no place for 'a tooth for a tooth.'

or scales of pounds and flesh,
The material body's destiny is empty and dry

samsara escapes the death grip on youth

and you're already scheduled to die...

We are everything and nothing

simultaneously united by the same something.

Nomad's in a new age

we're here to change the channel,

our case connection is growing

the program -- many won't know how to handle,

get side-tracked, stale in the mundane
or lost in the chaotic

either way,

the past is swallowing all that is robotic...

.......the future is breaking into weightless liberation
-----Get With It

<3

Portia Leigh
5/2011

Daddy's little stunt girl

       When I was younger my dad used to call me his little guinea pig. I was thrilled by the idea of being the guinea pig without knowing what it entailed. In all honest, I initially agreed to the role of the occasional test dummy because I thought guinea pigs were cute. My dad sorta treated me like a female G.I. Joe doll, his little stunt girl.    
        At four years old I was doing high falls off the roof into an airbag (more like "active" falls, as he was the one gently tossing me off the roof). He would say "Look at my little stunt girl," while a seven year old me is climbing the ladder, getting ready to jump.  My dad and his stuntmen friends would have these 'work outs'. They'd all get together at one of their houses and work on perfecting what they do for a living, stunts.
            Since my parents separated when I was three, whenever I was with my dad, I was literally WITH my dad. I didn't have babysitters, and I didn't have a lot of friends to hang out with until high school, so from the ages of four through 13, he brought me everywhere with him.
          One of the work-outs would be at his friend Tony S.'s house in Culver city. He had a trapese set-up in his back yard, something like you would find in circus de solei. I loved going to his house, because he had dogs and the backyard was huge, I could run rampant if I wanted. On the trapese set there was this harness attached to two bungee chords, once buckled in, the possibility of voluntarily removing myself was unlikely. The chords were attached to the top off two white metal support poles that shot out of the ground, 3 stories high and about a volleyball courts distance apart from each other.
      Once I was in the harness my dad, and whoever I could convince, would grab me by the ankles and start walking with me until the tension in the bungee's was strong enough to launch me across the back yard like amo in a sling-shot. I always wanted to go higher, even when I was up above all of the trees, HIGHER, higher please.
       From as early as I can remember my dad's main field of stunt work has been car work; precision driving, crashes, rolls...  one afternoon his friends were over adding to his demo real, everyone was outside. I was sitting on the warm concrete playing with rolli-pollys in my one-piece bathing suit (my uniform for years) as my dad and three of his friends stood discussing the stunt they were about to pull on our street.There was a 20 x 25 Porta Pit (a vinyl-covered cushion for jumps and falls) laid out adjacent to our drive-way, it was black and about 3 feet think.
      My dad was in his royal blue driving suit from this 80s racing team he used to drive for called Performance 2, one of his friends was holding the video camera and the other one was on the roof of somebody's grey-blue two door sedan, face-down, arms spread across like a crucifixtion as he gripped the side doors on his left and right. They drive around the block (with me in the back seat of course), one is shooting the scene from the passenger seat as my dad and the friend on the roof fake fight through the driver's side window. When he got the car in position for the finish he sped up, turned slightly to the right, then pulled the e-break just enough to slide perfectly into place beside the porta pit in front of our house, the man on the roof rolled off... gently I'm sure.
      This sparked my interest in car stunts. We used to have this little old 9-14 six convertible Porsche, my dad would always do 360s if I begged for long enough. I loved the thrill, it made my stomach feel non-existent, excitement coursed through my veins. At about age eight he started letting me jump out of the car, but only in the convertible, like in the movies. I thought it was the coolest thing I'd experienced up until that point in life.. and then I ate shit. hard.
       The routine would go as follows, we'd get onto Kittridge St. and once we were a few houses away from ours he'd slow down, I'd crouch up onto the seat with a left hand grip on the top of it and have my right hand on the door beside me, slowly putting pressure on it until I had the guts to jump... all you've got to do is come down running.
        My mom had just bought me these semi-baggy jeans with loony tune characters hanging out the back pocket for my 9th birthday, she and my grandma said they were like Janet Jackson's and the loose boy-friend jean was in. When it came to clothes, they chose sizes as if they were waiting for the day when I'd shoot up like Jack's bean stock, at least the'd be prepared garment-wise.
       The day of the fall was sunny and beautiful. These older boys that lived up my street were outside playing on their skateboards, as we passed by on the drive home I decided I wanted to impress them. I tell my dad to slow it down, the speedometer drops to a cool five mph and I crawl into position like a parrot perched. I prepare for take-off, I'm nervous. When I'm nervous or undecided about something, I jump in. Figuratively and literally choosing action with my eyes closed is something I struggle with. I'm 24 years-old, and sometimes on the days when I can't make up my mind, I still throw all of it, myself included, into the universe.... hope it comes out alright.
     So I jump out of the cherry red convertible. My jeans get caught on the little silver unlocked door lock protruding out of the passenger side door, far from graceful I awkwardly try to avoid a crash landing. Arms flayle on the take off, feet impact assphault, brain say's Come down running. I do. And for a mili-second I think I'm home free...then, SMACK. My pants weren't feeling the jog that afternoon. My feet got tangled up in the excess and as I tried to run, I tripped violently instead.... I didn't try to do that in front of boys, or anyone else for that matter, EVER again... (what tomorrow brings though is a different story, I wear tighter pants these days)



(Chapter: Dad/ childhood)

I write to keep the thoughts from staying too long in my brain, keep the chisel chiseling, nobody wants a stale occipital cortex....

slow.

kinetic

                   I reach for a cigarette
                   a bowl
                   a pill.
why not take this energy on an empty stomach.
swallow it whole.
channel its fuel
sit and watch its color changing... sweat it out.

Synchronicity: was it me or the universe???

SYNCHRONICITY

April 24

It's Easter. I’m lying face down on my futon with my arms supporting my head and I feel warm, I’m in a half sleep and my body feels a little lucid like my energy is tapping into something else, like a current is going through it, my eyes are closed. I’m zoning into something and its weird because I feel the advancement of my knowledge, this information I am being given isn’t mechanically assimilating into my brain space, instead I’m feeling it vibrating into my body, similar to how it was on DMT, but in a drastically more subtle manner. My eyes are closed, but I’m not asleep, it’s dark but I see a faint milky grey outline of a geometrical box that extends back into the dark blur of whatever lies behind eyelids,

I’m lying here and I start to feel it extending outward deeper into the black and for some reason I get the feeling that this thing I’m seeing is supposed to symbolize my world. I smile warmly in this half sleep, I want to stay here forever, but something calls me up. 

AT THIS POINT THE SYNCHRONICITUS EVENTS begin to unfold...

It's crazy to see someone get defensive where they think they're protecting themselves but all they're doing is blocking out love by acting indifferent.... And the crazy thing is it's so fucking familiar... Haha connecting other peolples dots is a trip..

pudding and bones

The benefits of not looking into the future… the positives of living in the now…and no where else, this was the first day of the rest of my life...

I was driving down the 101 last year on a Monday afternoon and I got in a car accident. I hit the center divider, on impact my reality cracked and it was as if time froze, I felt as though I was floating in slow motion -- three, two, one.... with a jolt I'm sucked back into reality and all I see is a wave of grey as my car 360's across the 5 lane freeway and rolls down the hill. Two men come running down the bank, through the trees there are flashing lights, and this man in a sweater vest is calling someone and I’m trying to get out of this fucking car.

My life flashed before my eyes, I didn’t have car insurance, the DMV had recently sent a letter saying my registration had been revoked because of that, I also had a letter from the district court saying my license was pending suspension, whatever that means, oh, and I was addicted to (****) or something like that. I wasn’t on it at the time of the accident, and I didn’t have anything associated with it in the car, but I had recently had my car searched by two Las Virgenes’ Sheriffs, they threatened me with a drug test saying that if (****) showed up in my system I could face two years in jail, UM fuck that I’m a college student (financial aid has a policy against felons) no matter how on drugs I was I still had my shit together, that was the problem….

Anyways so all these things are passing through my head as I’m trapped, the roof was smushed down over my body (looking back at pictures now, the car seemed much more spacious at the time) and all I could think was how the fuck am I going to get out of this, I wiggled in adrenaline bred panic trying to get myself free of the seatbelt but before I knew it  the two men had made it down the hill and the struggle became useless, I exhaled like a sinking sack of pudding and bone realizing I had been defeated. I had no choice but to relinquish control, It was at this point I realized I couldn’t move the right side of my body.

Art show at ShutNYC-- and I'm so drunk I don't even think I can read...

When I was living in New York this past November, my friend Alicia and I went to our friend Mike's skate shop, Shut NYC, for a kind of art show that I guess was designed with a school charity in mind. It makes sense that the bag Mike gave me says Thanks for Learning with Us... And so inside this bag there were all these little goodies but I was way to sauced to care to investigate any further, at one point we got a hold of some side walk chalk and stumbled down the street marking arbitrarily. I forgot that I and a few undisclosed persons lifted some paint pens from a desk at the party,   I put one in side my jeans and didn't find out until the morning when it was lovingly smeared against my skin, we had been using sidewalk chalk all night, ha waste...

Dimethyltryptamine DMT

]
\'Saturday 7 am.

I’m sitting alone on a skate ramp in the back of the heaven house watching the dew and mist enveloping the green valley below. 

I just smoked DMT.

At first I hit it and Jordan told me to hold it in so I did, and then I hit it again and at that I fell the fuck back…. 

In the beginning I saw all these little rows of shapes outlined in white coming at me against a purplish primarily pink backdrop; triangles, circles, stick like thing’s, too many to process. I fell on the bed,

continuation of a never ending compilation.2008

Portia Leigh

2008

go.with.it.2011.

Karma is the balance judging

But life is not court and you won’t win from grudging

So quick, run and tell the others

while your balance is off

it's not safe to be lovers

Just remember you can’t sue for the blues

So breathe deep, solidify your structure

This electric heart muse

needs the option to rupture

and with no attachments to lose

I’ve abandoned all clutter

I don't fear the bruise

because I'm fine in the gutter

in forgetting results

and releasing the cover,

We unlock deadbolts

and prepare to discover

the unpredictability of new paths

new lovers

and since no reality lasts

we can only be transient in others

So if its all destined to fade

why not open the shudders

let the sun in a bit

watch it burn down the shade

archiving old writings

Caution killed Desire and a Faded Glow

2008

If you ask her if she understands

you'll find she speaks loudest

with the touch of her hand

she gives what she needs

so they never demand

trading true feelings

for what everyone can stand

leaving the diary tragedies

to drown on the floor of the ocean

it makes for lighter travel

without the weight of devotion

so gone are the sunsets

once painted in pure emotion

while those energetic times told of progress

the aftermath rewound us in slow motion

These days she says I'm always alright

we're all trying to get swept up in obsession
without the burden of connection
but passionate love is a blinding sight
so whats wrong with a little deception

I can still feel if I squeeze pretty tight

so it's okay to just fall in line

step by step with all the other robots

racing by loves' maze of mines 

cause everybody has got somewhere to be

there just isn't the time

to pause, collect and see

that the castles they're building are so far from free

And this place punctures like an adrenaline injection

in this schema everyone has to keep moving

slowly losing direction

speeding by landscapes

with no space for intuitive heart selection

amiable boredom is bought and sold

while rings grab fingers and settle apprehension

they annihilate all question concerning future rejection

leaving true love to rest catatonic and mute

the concept of an elevating connection

becomes too foreign to mention

so when you meet her

she'll accept your version of fine

with words like your insides are as black as mine

and don't worry baby I've seen worse crimes

when you find her she'll go with the flow

bearing caution killed desire and a faded glow

she was born into a swamp of toxic blood lines

and since her 20 year escape from that fatal vine

she's abandoned emotional pursuit

with callous bred insouciance towards attachments that bind

structural stability has demolished cloud nine

morning thoughts

Worry sometimes
bring resentment
throwing waves
in the way of contentment
careful don't put faces on the passing
because there's true peace in detachment
when the ego is gone
and the self is absent.

...I feel so blessed, the last year has been a serious whirlwind, fun times, rough times, different people different places... It's as if my life was a semi-stagnant snow globe someone shook up; and, when all the debris finally settled the familiar was replaced by the foreign, life got a thousand times more intriguing....

3am thoughts

I keep looking back to where I hold the picture books of memories with their feelings and anxieties,
it's odd to have to wonder, to question the state,

to have to ask yourself what drugs you were on and the roads they helped you take
cockiness, conversations, and a path that casually alienates,
looking back I will not ask if today is just too late,

because in the present I am just myself,
inside my skin I'm not overly proud 

but I don't have to question whether my mind
is too high in a cloud because below me now I feel the ground 

and tomorrow I won't have to double-back to these decisions
to see if they're in need of sobering revisions  

I'm living these days unpredictable as they come,
and It's true, I'm not always right in the head,

but at least I can trust it's me alone on the path I tred...

I was falling asleep thinking about the past, choices I've made, situations I've been in, and I just felt so weird having to filter out what periods of time I was under the influence of what, frequent flags of "what was I thinking?!" came to mind, and then I realized I'm living in a place at this point in my life where I can't blame any of my choices on anything other than my own raw accord, it's nice to trust myself, to be free of outside alterations, it's possible that that is what I was afraid of before,...

the unpleasant present... there is a bright side