“We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse;”

“Waves crash down, unrelenting, unending. We are stone shaped by the force of its abuse; colossal mountain ranges eroded to jagged shorelines; aged cliff tops, decrepit and helpless; earthen cadavers now ripe for mining to the very core of our souls. Or so we would have you think. Magic is willpower. Willpower is magic. Self-knowledge is the key to the perfect control of the will. After destroying the decades of our youth, after being crushed under the pillars of heaven–the bonds we make and the bonds we break ever come crashing down.”

Thou, “By Endurance We Conquer” from the album Summit

Ball Lightning Tried To Kill Me In My Youth: A Questionable Recollection

Image by Joe Thomissen, from Wikipedia

Image by Joe Thomissen, from Wikipedia


I was just reading an article I randomly came across, discussing the phenomena of ball lightning. Suddenly, I had a flashback to a memory from when I was maybe seven, eight years old, playing outside in good ol’ Fruitland, New Mexico, and I saw a flash of what I now think was this ball lightening, maybe five or ten feet in front of me. TRIPPY… I remember it freaking me out at the time, and making me all tingly and whatnot.

I’m pretty sure this is a real memory that got knocked loose up there, and not some subconscious fabrication to pass the time. But, with my brain, “pretty sure” is probably 50% at best. I mean, I can’t even be certain that an awkward conversation I had a few days ago with some dude in a lab coat about the domes outside Phoenix was real or just a dream that I had, or just me talking to myself in my mind.

I have fun. 😉

Image courtesy of Weird U.S.

Image courtesy of Weird U.S.


© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Ten Stupid Things That Sound Intelligent and Profound (Or Do They?)

Or. Do. They? O.o

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1.))) Every experience in this life is a lesson. The most difficult moments hide the lessons we most resist learning.

2.))) The things that make us angry show us when we need to practice letting go. Typing that sentence is a million times easier than figuring out how to actually do it.

3.))) Expectations are the surest way to bring oneself meaningless suffering.

4.))) Everyone is wrong, all the time. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on. The more we resist our own basic ignorance, the further we are from true knowing.

5.))) Any statement can seem wise and profound, with the right measure of language and conviction.

6.))) A great way to relieve some of the pressures of the burden of existence is to remember you are just a mostly hairless monkey with delusions of grandeur and too much capacity for complex thought.

7.))) With all the complexities of the human mind, even the most intelligent and capable of us are still pretty fucking stupid and clueless most of the time.

8.))) For all the grandly evolved capabilities, ideals, achievements, responsibilities, and sense of self importance displayed by humankind, we are all at our core simply grasping blindly to find our place and our path in the accident of existence. You are not nearly as important as you think you are. Neither am I. Neither is anybody. There’s a sense of calm in that.

9.))) Talking has fuck all to do with getting shit done. Real motherfuckers get shit done.

10.))) Using profanity to illustrate a point is called “perfervidic expletivication” and releases the same chemicals in the brain as sex and heroin. I read it on the internet, so I know it’s true.

11.))) Fuck self-imposed limitations, in lists and in life!

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Cessation of All

It has been this consistent thing of late where I see a living thing and recognizing that thing in its perpetual suffering and mortality depresses me in horrific existential crisis to my fragile core and all I want to see as a cure is the cessation of all existence.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Monday on a Tuesday

Sorry bros
I can’t come to work today
I left my belt at home
Over 90 miles away
My pants really aren’t that loose
Until I try and walk around all day
Without a cinchable strap
Choked ’round my waist
Sagging’s a problem
But mostly it’s a comfort thing
Also, I forgot to comb my beard
Before leaving the trailer this morning
And we all know what a fucking disaster
An untamed beard can be.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

i am the chasm

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i named her heart
after a black hole sun
but the truth is
the void is in me
as dense and suffocating
as the ache in
my fucking guts.
i am the chasm
which consumes all things
with a hunger
ravenous
never replete.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

It all works out in time (You may take my eyes, but baby I’m not blind…)

Title: Cage the Elephant, “Spiderhead” from the album Melophobia *

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Images by Christopher Ian MacFarlane

Perhaps one of the times my head explodes, these spiders will come pouring out. There will be casualties. The truly hardy ones will scatter on remaining legs to those dark corners of existence where few would think to find shelter. The ones who make it back before I finish reassembling my shattered skull will have stories weighty with wisdom they will refuse to tell. Because not everything in this life is meant to be shared.

I’m a man of my word, and that word is always regret…

…I’m trying to be the best man that I can,
Things don’t always work out in the end…

Godhunter & Amigo the Devil, “Weeping Willow” from the 7″ collaborative record The Outer Dark

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A spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken threads and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years and years and years…

Shel SilversteinEvery Thing on It

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* I absolutely ripped this device off from a fellow WordPress bleeder, the lovely and talented “Zeebam”. Her unique photography and poignantly emotive writings hit home in a certain way, like this piece here.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Rotten Piece Inside of Me

Title: PRIMITIVE MAN, “Stretched Thin” from the album SCORN

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I don’t yet know where the Scorn lives. But when it comes out to play, it casts its shadow over everything. It permeates unsparingly, absolutely. The things it feeds on die with agonizing deflation. It feeds on all things. When it is here, it is the only thing that exists, and it will not be controlled. Those which it takes leave their death cries resounding through the air for eternity. And some days that is all I hear.

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Images by BAG MAN Visuals by Ethan McCarthy

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Duties of a Precarious Sentience in the Epic Uncool

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I suspect almost every day that I’m living for nothing, I get depressed and I feel self-destructive and a lot of the time I don’t like myself. What’s more, the proximity of other humans often fills me with overwhelming anxiety, but I also feel that this precarious sentience is all we’ve got and, simplistic as it may seem, it’s a person’s duty to the potentials of his own soul to make the best of it. We’re all stuck on this often miserable earth where life is essentially tragic, but there are glints of beauty and bedrock joy that come shining through from time to precious time to remind anybody who cares to see that there is something higher and larger than ourselves. And I am not talking about your putrefying gods, I am talking about a sense of wonder about life itself and the feeling that there is some redemptive factor you must at least search for until you drop dead of natural causes.

Lester BangsPsychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung

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The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.

Philip Seymour Hoffman as Lester Bangs in Almost Famous

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Tormentor (I Am The Meteor Hammer)

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Title: Fister, “Flail” from the PRIMITIVE MAN/FISTER Split 12″

I’ve been reflecting lately on the pervasive idea that I don’t have anyone in my life who I trust implicitly. Obsessive ruminations feeding a chasm of paranoia. An inability to forgive, to see the other side, to let go. Precious solitude reflected in a negative. Strangers seem easier, but only objectively. There is no worry in the unknown there, because nobody actually exists to me until I have to look them in the eye. And then suddenly they are all too real, and in an instant they own a piece of me which I never knew I had, never knew enough to miss until it is ripped away. I tell myself lies like there aren’t many pieces left, in feeble attempts at self comfort, but the truth I keep buried in the back of my skull is that this will go on infinitely because two things are forever. And one of them is suffering.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.