Rebelle Society

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fear no art

Touched By The Devil’s Flower.

As I listen to Prince, his voice becomes the beacon calling me home to myself. I am now lost in the ultimate irony: My past is destroying my inability to be fully present right here and now. I am being liberated from and by my yesterday. There is something young, untamed, wild, receptive waking  ...

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The Fairy Tale We Dream Of Is Now.

As soon as you stop carving through the caverns of your soul, trying to find something more, the world, and all of its high hopes and searches for meaning, will simply cease to exist. We will walk around, empty shells under the palm trees of delusion that this picture of paradise is all we have  ...

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