adult male rape, Recovery, trauma, Video

Through my own experiences of loss and attraction. Both of friendships and family, as I have flowed jagged and soft through my journey of rape, trauma, addiction, self re-discovery and life expansion. I have felt moved to open up and document these sessions. These talks are based primarily on my own experiences with a clear understanding that many of us who are reclaiming our minds, bodies, emotions, sexualities and the rest of our lives. Share many common bounds as we ascend our chosen greater paths of living once more.

These particular talks are designed for those who may offer up open hearts and hands. Assisting a loved one on their journey and finding the process of healing sluggish, frustrating and confusing and perhaps not understanding why healing and a return to a “normal” life is not taking place as you find fit. Or in the time frame that is within your expectations.

These talks are from a s survivors perspective in hopes of providing a fresh layer of understanding. One that may not always be able to be taught by Flat text reading. Sometimes, no matter how empathetic an individual may be. It can be very difficult to fully understand the pain of another without the experience of rape and trauma. I wish my gang rape upon no one, nor the wicked trip to needle park.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt


Images, Recovery, trauma


On Monday, July 27th 2015, I experienced my first and last methamphetamine drug overdose. The result of a dinner date gone wrong, or right depending on your perspective. This reflective snippet flows outward following a month of vibrant spiritual experiences. I suppose it is true, you have to die to see the light. I came close enough and now all feels right.

On July 23rd I put out a request, or as they say an intention, to the Universe-my God-my Source. A request to deliver a speed round of events (no pun intended) of life lessons. A sort of “lets get the show on the road” kind of thing. To finally wrap up this dragging chapter of trauma and addiction. The time had come to move on with living, teaching and enjoying this awesome life.

I seem to cycle on the magic number of three, I don’t know why I just do. Three days later, on July 27th the Universe delivered in full force. With a dinner date, admittedly somewhere within my subconscious I had some questions marks floating around it. In all sober truth I knew there was a possibility of a “slam bam” time (using drugs).

I fooled myself, after all this was a date with a prominent psychiatrist. A man well known and successful, what could possibly go wrong? We both where attracted to each other for being decent guys. Supposedly neither of us where “game players.” Just two real men who found each other “trustworthy” “refreshing” and all of that. Well enough of the denial fantasy talk-lol

Instead of Pork Chops and romance I had been left for dead. Soon to reside at the Weiss Memorial ICU for the next four days. And so my spiritual catapult began, as always I never regret any moment of my journey!

Certainly I had to wrap my head around knowing my mom at the age of 82 had to see her son for the first and only time in the ICU. Wired to life saving contraptions, heart leaping from chest muscles and mind literally being eaten away by chemicals. I was beyond completely freaked the fucked out on drugs-insanity.

We had not spoken since December, I can’t imagine a reunion much more dramatic or painful. Than to receive a call that your 52 year old child is possibly going to die from an overdose, please come immediately. Fortunately she really does not understand what meth is all about. Denial and lack of knowledge can be marvelous copping tools. Along with the calming effects of my loving younger brother supporting her on the scene.

This would be the one moment I wish I could alter out of everything. To erase a my mothers grievous moment of pain, fear and sorrow. Although if not for this relatively short exchange of pain.Our relationship that has been in constant strain would not have mended as it has. Years of generational scars have evaporated within in weeks. Funny how tragedy heals suddenly you realize how silly so many things are in life. And love is love and the rest really doesn’t matter.


The door to who I am opened and I surrendered, I let go. It felt so right to finally let it all out. 
The door remains open, now I know all that I ever need is already here. Lastly I understand the undiluted meaning of trust. I am free, I have let go of fear and I have let go of all assumed debts to my spiritual self.

From childhood to now, all illusions of suffering, self forgiveness, guilt, and judgment have been dissolved. My extensive list of self critiques has been released. My mass collection of “whatever’s” from others, the list of ancient artifacts gathered over the years. Have not been forgotten, its as if they never existed. Boom back to birth, I am free no worries. I take comfort in knowing I am ok designed exactly as I am, with all the talents and attributes that I have been given. Every worry, all bullshit, all self editing has been lifted.

In pure God Speed style, I have liberated my need for acceptance and rejection. Never had I a thing to prove, never a thing to loose. On occasion I had been told this, but how could it be true? Not until reconciled could I let go, now I have no restrictions and no rules, life is so fucking cool. My core is my compass as it always has been.

At last peace, calm and serenity comfort me, I now know I am abundantly safe. That I am loved, I am perfect just as I am, just as we all are. I let go of all anger and doubt, along with everything I have ever been taught. Embracing everything I intuitively known, returning to original intelligence and instincts the same I have had since before I could crawl. Isn’t life funny, really it just cracks me up sometimes-peace.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R


Recovery, Video


In honor of Inwood, a neighborhood nestled at the northern tip of the Isle of Manhattan. It’s streets, sounds, rhythms, smells, and parks. Most of all to my humble shack, just four flights up and to the right. Number 4J at 204 Sherman Ave. This is where light, love, sex, trauma, addiction, joy, sorrow and so much more swirled delicate and thick. Turning this home into the hyper-spastic launch pad that allowed me to rip open my soul. Digging so deep into the gutter of my life it actually penetrated into past existences.

Finally brave enough to embrace, bash and dance with the muck and miracles of my past. All of them equally important to the development of my flesh, spirit and story in other words, this life of mine.

Eventually I finished that chapter of learning and now with my “damaged” self  on the mend. And a let’s get the show on the road attitude brewing. I finally had become ready to face the creation of this “visual therapy.” This is my final release, at last I am able to let go. Rather than breaking down, I lit up through this process. Now that is change, sweet ass mother clucking change.

I love every moment of every one of these experiences that flick through this “clip-o-tage”.  Dark or light, I never will insult my existence my wishing things had been different.  Perhaps I am fooling myself, but I still stand by my word I live with zero regrets. I am here, I share story, people respond this is living even when I fuck up I am growing-life rocks.

Yes, indeed every life matters, every minute, every word, every experience-they are who we are. Finally I can say I like who I am, better yet I like the people in the world around me because of who I have become. Again that is pretty fucking awesome!

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

Flowers, quotes

Every Life Matters

As my inner shift continues to evolve, my spiritual space also continues to expand within and around me. Intensive reparative work on self has decreased in need. Allowing my unblocked energies to now flow outward. No longer soloy driven to seek my own truth. Now strong enough to help another on their path. This is the reward, this is the joy, this is the moment my heart has been waiting for.

My true self once again has awaken, now resurrected, old wounds healed and a vital spirit no longer dimmed. As always my core message burns bright and reads the same. Be it spoken through word, action or in a moment of silence.  CADA VIDA IMPORTA! Yes EVERY LIFE MATTERS! This is my life, this is my work, this is my love, this is my voice-

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R


EGO RINSE-short truths

For me the word ego had always seemed like a dirty damaged little word. Suggesting an adult or child may have been possessed by a horribly deformed soul. Growing up I had been taught that to have an ego meant you where greedy, selfish, back stabbing, worldly, deceitful or a “run around,” you get the picture.

I was fearful to admit I had an ego, it meant I was damned to hell. When vacant of fear, guilt was the next identifiable feeling to clutch on to. Guilt, has always been a complete waste of energy especially when squandered around “E” and his side-kick pride. Guilt shielded when pride and ego stirred within my youthful even adult heart and mind.  Proudly, now I say no more but it took some work and re-learning to clear the residue of ancient teachings.

It felt like torture to my ears every time I heard how the meek would inherit the earth as a child. I now ask myself did I ever really want to inherit the earth? What kind of trip is that to lay on kid, yikes! No Thanks lol! And why hadn’t we been taught that ego can be a marvelous protector and something that can lift us up and encourage us when needed. I suppose we had been spawned from a generation that only could teach us what they knew. Just as we will teach future generations what we know. I am grateful for the possibilities afforded to those who choose to live a life with an expansive mind and heart.

For years I felt bad about patting myself on the back or celebrating any deserving accomplishment. I felt even worse, encouraging myself to fully believe in my dreams, goals or having faith in my own strengths. I often wondered how many others wandered the earth, who have had similar experiences. Many I am sure I am also positive there are many on massive journeys of their own.

I have to confess what cracks me up most about my own story. I have always considered myself to be a rebel, an outcast and a bit of a shit stirrer. Over the years I have gotten myself into my fare share of trouble. For instance (I chuckle) fights with gang bangers. I thought I was some tough little punk, walking city streets painted in new wave drag circa 1984. Thrashing jagged beer bottles, tough with looking all androgynous boy pretty. In reality I was a fragile dime a dozen ball of manic chicken shit furry. I have lived most my life in complete fear of being completely who I wanted to be. I was uncomfortable in my own skin, always on the verge of crumbling on the inside, who the hell was I fooling? Many but not me, I had no ego or pride if I had they where damaged and barley alive.

I hid behind masks and many characters secretly for many years. I had fun a hand full of times but I lived in fear of most people and situations. In my personal life I would reach out to live my dreams then cower in fear and doubt. My truth was distorted and repressed, so rather than trusting my inner voice, my core my truth, my source, my ego I would give up. And my pride would further be diminished. I had my frantic moments with peaks and valleys laced with a mixture of legit reasons for their jagged little rip tide.

To be raised with a healthy ego and ownership of pride life hold a different ride. This is an observation, and a reflection to future living, yes we live and learn.

Like most things I educate best on my own, that is my story, it is not always easy but it sure as hell is effective and rewarding. Unlike traditional school, life lessons I never forget and I never regret. I no longer fear who I am I have no resentment, zero regret. At this point I can honestly say I respect the man that I am and the people and world around me. I have a healthy ego and I am proud of who I am.

Love and Light Always
The Empowered Runt-lil Big R

Recovery, Selfportraits, trauma


Authors Note:
This series of writing and art documents a period of time from November 2011 through March 2015. This is primarily a written excursion intended to retrace, understand and release the events surrounding a trauma that took place while I was still living in New York City. Eventually there will be five chapters in total. My only desire is to bring hope to another while I learn continue to grow along my written path of discovery. And as always peace love and light as we each venture through our own life journeys.

Part One:
I never quite understood the power of my PTSD. At some point I had slipped through the boarders of my denial, sheltered, safe from the impact and the grip that my trauma has held over me these past four and a half years. Although this event is not new, the threats feel as fresh as this morning’s news. Throughout this time I have attempted to remain protected by my minds invisible shield. With large shards of my memory set patiently on hold, select thoughts have sat waiting for an appropriate moment of release. When the time is ripe they exit accordingly, seeping through the boundaries of my mind, wandering out through the soft fleshed walls of me, where I have kept them fenced in and safe. Or have they kept me? When moments of unspoken permission arise, I give my inner workings a gentle nod and attempt to do my best to come to terms with them. At these moments I work to the best of my ability to become reacquainted with a nearly forgotten self. I promise to be patient although frustration, back-stepping and rage arise. As I relearn to live, I begin to trust. And with the universe on my side at last I pray for the re-assemblage of my life to begin.

I do have hope absolute that my mind terrors will decelerate, no longer wielding weapons, aimlessly thrashing throughout my muted unprotected thoughts like slow dull blades ripping, wounding my slow restructuring spirit that I now choose to claim once more as my own. The reality of course is that these memories have always been and always will be a part of who I am. Now I am learning to own them, to walk with them to no longer cower in their presence. What I am really talking about is pain management and harm reduction.  Ultimately I am learning to love all of my experiences and come to terms with them while at the same time, expunging the power that the memories of this event have held over me and their physical and mental impact. The moment had to be right and no life journey is the same. There are no rules. I know in time my life catalogue of experiences, like all of our journeys will be looked upon as a magnificent tool, for both my own health and well-being and I am confident to also help another as my existence continues to expand and unfold and as my heart opens. (sorry-not sorry if some are tired of hearing my mantra…xxx)

Up until now I have spent much of my time perched high riding lost on the back of my denial, blindfolded and numb. Living cocooned in a synthetic liquid escape of injected crystal meth. Through the first half of this dark adventure I had participated in a delusional codependent relationship. Unknowingly creating my own not so safe-safe space of disintegrating independence, flesh and sense of self. Later, I have found out that most of my actions have been fairly normal reactive behaviors. Over these years I have ridden the wicked waves of my emotional and phycological destruction. Each thrust seemed cruel, malicious and often difficult to define. I’d find myself smashing high then crashing low, I collapsed with each rush upon the shores of my physic reality. Spiritual erosion nibbled at the framework of my fundamentally kind yet isolating character. I fumbled about with good intent, generally clueless throughout this journey. I have experienced many rebirths, peaks and ravines on every level. I have struggled up and down round and round through sobriety and spiritual awakenings. I often revisited the ruins of my personal truths, although my visits may have been momentary. A perpetual syncopation of interruptions was in motion. Consisting of terror, regret, hysteria, self blame, and an endless series of nagging how’s what’s and why’s? My existence had become a constant dance of two steps forward and three steps back. It was a slow death cha-cha!

This experience, as I assume it is for many others has been a hateful beast. It had kept me addicted to meth for what seemed to be a lifetime. Although I understand the meth protected me from the shock and scars of trauma, and I am actually grateful for this tool, I think I would have been off this planet long ago without it. But “TINA” only kept me among the living dead and she sure as hell seemed to have dragged this healing process out. As I skip back down Flashback Lane it is no accident that my drug use skyrocketed immediately after my hospital excursion that pre-Thanksgiving week. It took me six months post trauma to admit what had happened or to even choke out that word, that word being RAPE. It was about another year before I was able to muddle about for help. It was a nervous scurry of manic frantic motion that bore no fruit. At the time my nervous system was rattled with drugs, I was a fractured in spirit. No longer stable, my medications were on a fluctuating schedule and my diet was fucked. This boy was wasting away, paranoid and completely lost. I also had become embedded emotionally and mentally in my abusive relationship. The purpose of the partnership was as much about keeping me addicted to the man as it was about keeping me addicted to the drugs and breaking me down. The trauma was the bonus glue that kept the disaster spinning in place.

As time moved forward, sometimes at sparked speed sometimes at a mind snagging crawl, life became more and more unmanageable. My PTSD just evolved into a way of life and I adjusted to the grotesque. I became comfortable with the uncomfortable, I came to accept my demons as part of my life, we almost became friends. I had always prided myself on few yet tight, close and healthy friendships and partners. Now I had several unhealthy ones, I hated my addiction-actually that is a lie, I loved my addiction. My addiction to crystal meth kept me alive, it was the only thing that made life palatable although maddening and nearly killed me as it robbed me of life’s beauty and joy. I hated my partner yet loved him in that weird twisted way. I lived in fear of him, I feared everything I hated my rape, I hated my life, I hated who I had become and I was completely miserable. I was in a state of decay slowly being engulfed a sinkhole of my own life wasting. I was living a very slow and painful death and I know this was not a pretty site to watch. Nor a pretty life to live but this is not the end of my journey it gets so much brighter and so much better.

Love and Light Always

The Empowered Runt-lil Big R