Enneagram 486 Sx/So

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Q: Unhealthy Enneagram 4: “Wanna come over and destroy each other emotionally? It’s for my art.”

Keeping in mind the disclaimer that my whole tritype is 4w3-8w7-6w5 Sx/So, and my experience may or may not apply to other variations of fours, I will say that this reminds me of my old post

i’d sample all the sounds of human destruction and write them into a drum beat. then i would sing over the beat, just to enforce my point. sing. destroy. create something beautiful manifested into the sounds, the movements, the voice of destruction.
if destruction had a voice, it would be mine.
if death could speak, it would sound the way i sound. 
i want to hear it all around me. i want to take the rest of the world with me. i want my music to show people what silence tastes like. let them lick their lips and swallow their shadows.
everybody has one. step into the fucking light. why do you think i only come out at night? i see too many shadows without help from the blazing ball of fire that crosses our horizon every morning and makes colors brighter. my vision is saturated and my fingers are melting every time i hear the soft sound of a piano. it strangles me like the kick of a man who beats the shit out of me after sex. i know he’s just doing it because i made him love me. it’s always my fault. i only love for the sake of creation, so what can i expect?

 I was lovely when I was unhealthy, wasn’t I?

I dyed my hair pink-red instead of red-red because I felt I was fake. I had lost my innocence and soul with my voice. I was undead, a reflection of my old self’s shadow, with the deepest darkness right at the surface. I was a vampire, preying on the blood of the living. I called this manifestation of myself “Anäeia” – pronounced like “Annihilate.” I envied the living for their innocence, their humanity, their mortality. I had to give up my immortal image of powerful beauty to rejoin the living and feel love again. I was very aware of that and spelled it out in my diaries and art throughout the process.

I preyed on the virginal innocents, and I figured if they gave in then they wanted to be destroyed. Their destruction was inevitable; the destroyer might as well be me. The one man who resisted my seductive artistic lusty advances gained tremendous power over me, for many years. He became an ideal I was too ruined to reach, and I knew – on the one hand, to possess him I would need to be human — on the other, I would realize, when I became human, that I had fallen in love with a lie. Because reality is never as perfect as the way I viewed him. He was merely a projection of my own lost childhood.

Q: Was the reward in all of it the feeling of immortality?

No, the immortality was a punishment.
Last night I spoke to God directly for the first time in my life and I asked Him to help me grasp my own fragility, and the fragility of the flesh.

My illness and my death bed, not to mention the loss of my voice; was not enough to cure me of my sense of immortality. To quote my own lyrics more recently:

Tell me the odds
I’ll beat them senseless
Summon the Gods
They’ll be defenseless

This is why I’ve been having panic attacks due to my health problems. There’s tremendous cognitive dissonance between my sense of immortality and power, and the threat of my body dying. I need help reconciling this, and I have finally realized my vulnerability in this area and begun to accept that I can’t do it alone.

Q: Are 4s attracted to souls that are already in pain and previously destroyed or do they want to destroy a healthy one?

When I was undead I envied the living. Want = hate.

“Tear people down to your own level of pain” kind of presumes that someone is coming from a place of “loneliness” or needing to connect. I can’t speak for other fours, as I know that being contraflow, Sx/So specifically and 8 fix has changed a lot of things. However, to speak for myself..

I really resonate with the idea of alienation. It’s not lonely, nor is it good or bad. It’s just something I’ve had to accept and deal with, that I’m not from the same planet as most others. I don’t dislike it; it gives me a sense of purpose and specialness. I don’t like it either per se; it can be difficult to have relationships with aliens who cannot connect to my planet; and my lust betrays me.

A poem I wrote after I lost my voice, says it all:

am ii too jagged
or is the world too perfectly round?
sometimes ii feel like everyone else is lost
and ii, alone, am found.
but if a tree falls in the woods
and no one hears it
does it make a sound?
that question is what keeps me
so tightly bound

The reason this poem says it all, is I recognize I’m not ‘part of it’ and my feelings about that are somewhat neutral. But I still have this need for an audience. So I want my art to capture something that lies so deep within me that it actually touches what’s at the heart of ALL humans. This is how I reach “holy origin,” the sense of being cut from the same cloth. But the thing that motivates me (at the surface) to do that, is to be applauded; not to actually connect. Deeper down, there’s a need to connect which has been replaced by the need to be applauded; but that is not something I consciously feel especially when unhealthy.

So no, I don’t need to pull them down to my level or to make them suffer “like me,” unless it’s about hurting them in order to keep them around (like in a power game in romance). I got into those games with 6w5s, as a 6w5 fixer myself , and I know that’s where this particular urge comes from, the 6w5 fix. There was an intrigue in getting in these back and forth power games – who’s on top etc – with 6w5 cores.

But that was “easier” than dealing with the 4. They could love my power, my strong mind, my periphery. The only way to see “me” is through my art. 

And 9s will say they want to ‘be seen.’ I don’t actually NEED or even want to be seen as a human. My compulsive desire is to be worshipped as an art piece. In order to rejoin humanity, I needed to reconcile my more human, regular, boring old need to just connect. But my image fixation makes me revert to wanting to be worshipped as an art piece from a distance. If people want to see my humanity they can look at my website, but I know that what they’ll really find on my website is a reflection of themselves. Which is really what they want, anyway.

This is why Prince Ruby Valentine – my male alter ego – has had this on his bio since his conception; because he understands that people generally just see a reflection of themselves in “the other.”

On my first typing thread in 2012:

On a deeper level, I live to expose my true self through my work. I feel I’m a vessel through which songs and stories emerge. The content serves as a mirror. It exposes parts of myself that are buried deep within my subconscious, and which might otherwise remain unnoticed. In sharing my work, I hope to function as a mirror for others. What success means, to me, is knowing that my fight to sing on my album, despite speaking in a whisper, has inspired someone else to create her own artwork. Success is hearing someone quote my lyrics or reference my stories because it expresses something SHE is feeling. I want people to see themselves in my work, rather than merely seeing “me.” I want to touch on something universal. And, through bearing my own soul, I hope to inspire others to express themselves honestly, and to pursue their dreams against all odds.

So I don’t have any deep need to bring them down to ‘feel the pain I’m feeling,’ or to suffer with me, because I don’t want to be SEEN as a human per se. What I want, is to be their muse, their Goddess, their inspiration; the image that comes into their mind at their most powerless. I want to have power over them, to move them, to touch them in every corner of their soul; I want them to see me in a vision and rip off my face and see themselves beneath it. I want to imbue myself deep inside people as a symbol.

What’s much harder for me is just being human. And I’ve been doing it, finally, these past few years.
I need to be careful to say, I might not speak for sync flow 4s, or 9 fixed 4s; especially on issues of power and immortality. Hopefully we will have other fours in the group also expressing themselves so we can get a fuller picture; this would also help me understand what about me is 4 and what is 8, 6, the whole tritype, etc.
Either way though, typing at four really helped me to pull back some of my own masks, the ones that were so deeply entwined in my self-image that I could not see my human face beneath. Probably the best way I can sum it up in a ‘4’ way is to point out the overuse of the word “expose” in my 2012 typing thread. There’s tremendous shame about being ‘exposed.’ I still don’t know what it is that I feel like would be exposed and it would be so awful. If the art piece was stripped away completely, what would I be? What is it that I’m so ashamed of? Probably shame itself is the top candidate.
4w3 8w7 6w5 Sx/So. “Counter shame” four.


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“What is your Venus sign and what’s the most romantic thing you’ve done for your partner?” Asks an astrology site. This was my response:

Venus in Virgo in 7th. 
It’s hard to pinpoint one thing because I embody Erotic romanticism.
I’m not your usual “high heels, makeup, vacations” girl – I don’t need makeup or heels. I live my life as Art. I’m in love with nature and the elements; songs, poems and novels write themselves through me. I strive to bring the beauty I experience inside, into the world – so the decor in my house is sensual and stimulates a certain mood; my outfits and jewelry tell my story symbolically.

To address romance with a man, I have to bring him into my world. He becomes a character in my novel, the subject of my songs and poetic words, my favorite subject to photograph.

I take my husband up mountains and into forests and waterfalls to capture his essence and allow him to capture mine. We do collages and photo montages of our love and turn each other into archetypal symbols in our own art. We explore each other to discover our innermost essence and explore the world for beautiful places to capture it artistically through the elements. If we are weighed down by obligations, then we can find beauty at home, working side by side or talking about our most passionate interests, such as archetypes, the meaning of everything and the fantasy novel of mine in which some version of him is protagonist. I also find myself waxing poetic about his beauty, as it overwhelms me every day.

In light of this, things like “vacation” seem mundane. We would have a fabulous time on vacation, but I wouldn’t want to have to set out a time slot to be romantic. Life is art and I live it that way.

Love is the most powerful way to honor the beautiful world that the universe has created for us.


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On the topic of resetting and being reborn, I was reminded of an old post from 2013, called “Phoenix Complex.”

The best way I can describe my emotion is, I have a phoenix complex.

Some people wish they had no emotions because it’s too much. This is not the case for me. I enjoy it, I love it, I feel alive. I get off on the act of overcoming it, facing it. To me, the way out is through. I don’t run from my emotions. I embrace them and indulge them. I work through them. I face every emotion, every weakness, every wound, and bring it to the surface to look it in the face. And I conquer. The phoenix gets more and more and more fiery until finally it EXPLODES in some form of catharsis, release; music, a novel, a workout (depending on the depth and buildup, the catharsis can be long or short) . Then I am born again, innocent.

I also talk about this on the very first page of my website. My biography describes a process of writing music for the sake of cathartic release, clearing myself out and gaining perspective on the situation.  In a larger way, long-term art projects and cycles I go through in life, allow me to rise from the ashes of hardship, again and again.

This process is quite central for me. I grow, but I also stay the same. The way I view the phoenix, it is not a completely new animal, but rather, a fresh version of the same bird, with the colors of its past woven into its feathers. The rebirth is not about starting completely new, but rather, pushing through to the end until it’s all over, and then rising in the aftermath with a fresh state of mind.

That said, I don’t care much for novelty when it comes to perspective. If I have an opinion about the way things are, I can trust that this ‘sense of things’ has arisen from experience. The same patterns tend to repeat, ad nauseum, and I trust myself to figure out what those are and to know what to expect. Nobody is going to convince me that they fucked up three times, but the fourth time will be different. My political, interpersonal  and artistic views are quite set; my artistic process is set; my relationships are set. I know what type of people and projects tend to work for me, and any time I ignore my instinct and ‘try it anyway,’ I end up saying “my instinct was right.” So, I’m not a big fan of forgetting the past or wiping the slate clean when it comes to perception. After 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, I expect 6, and I have no shame about that. If I get 7 instead; so be it – then I will reconsider my stance. But I am not particularly ‘open minded’ to alternative perspectives about what is happening, has happened, or will happen.  Experience may change my mind, but I’m not particularly fond of random new experiences either. I like what I like, I hate what I hate, and it takes a long time for me to budge an inch away from that.

In fact, I’d go so far as to say that the idea of ‘newness’ puts a sour taste in my mouth. Life is short, and it makes the most sense to hone the skills and interests that I already have, so that I may attain mastery.  It’s important to me to do what I do well; to make a difference in the world for the better; to occupy the archetypal space that I cut out for myself. In my younger years I did some soul searching to figure out what that space was, especially since I lost my singing voice in the midst of my life-long pursuit of a music career. I was forced to wipe the slate clean and look at my life differently, and I redefined my  very same identity: I am not merely a singer, but a vessel through which passion emerges.  In the absence of my voice, I sought new ways to give this passion ‘form’ – artistic mediums to express myself. Since then I’ve honed those skills, just as I used to do with my voice.

I don’t see the point of ‘considering alternate possible avenues.’ My past choices occurred for a reason, and my future choices will ultimately lead me back to the same place; so I’d rather find a way to stay on that path.  Giving up is weak and unconscionable.  I’ll beat the odds senseless.  This is why I sang lead through my whisper until I really, really couldn’t anymore. I never surrender without a fight.

The idea of seeking new possibilities is foreign to me. If I can’t master who I am, why should I even exist?  I will fight for my highly specific journey if it’s the first, last and only thing I ever do.  May my passionate will burn me alive.


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“The best women get chased, and the best men chase” – this advice was imparted to me at a young age, and I saw that it was true. Men want to chase someone and women want to be chased. Obvious, right?

The problem is, I have a willful personality. I’m not any kind of ‘warrior’ or physical beast, but I know what I want, and I figure out how to get it. In all other areas of my life, I was assertive and driven; but where men were concerned, I was afraid of rejection. I knew exactly who I wanted, but I needed to make them come after me.

Hot guys chased me all the time, but I wanted exactly who I wanted, and couldn’t settle for less. I didn’t want to demean my own worth as a woman by chasing my crushes outright, yet I was hopelessly obsessed. So I would lure them to chase me while feeling tortured over any sign of rejection, and essentially destroy myself over each one for years. This could have been resolved by simply asking them out and getting a direct answer, but I was terrified that would turn them off and I’d ruin my chance.

I fantasized about being a man so I could be more direct and woo my crushes through romantic acts. I wanted to exhibit chivalry and honor, and get down on my knees and serenade the beautiful boys who made my heart sing. I researched transgenderism, but I didn’t have body dysphoria and didn’t want to condemn myself to being a short guy with a high-pitched voice and female organs. The only place I could live out my fantasy relationships was in fiction. What a coincidence that I started writing books at age 11. 

Subtlety and coyness did not suit me, and the attempt to fit that role made me less appealing. I came to terms with this in my late 20s and began taking direct initiative when needed. Since I’m attracted to shy men, this dynamic worked out well, and I finally had good relationships.

Still, this does not mean that I want to be “in charge.” I need a guy who holds his own, who defends women, and who is strong and firm in his own mind, but who finds my willfulness sexy. It’s an absolute necessity because otherwise I’d spend my whole life pretending I’m someone else, and that is not sexy or honest. But I do not want someone that backs out of a fight, expects me to carry all the weight, or allows me to dominate him. He needs to hold his own in an argument, a decision, a fight. He needs to be a man.

In short, I need to be with someone I respect. How could I respect someone if I completely dominate him?

I did not have what it took to attract the right man when I was ‘waiting for them to make a move’ and playing games. I needed to be real about who I am, in order to attract someone equally real. And now that I found my soulmate in Kilian, I am driven to nurture and worship him. It turns me on that I cannot dominate him intellectually, emotionally or physically, and I trust that nobody can. 

I feel like a lot of these messages about ‘men and women’ miss these human, grey areas; where a woman doesn’t need to fit the ‘submissive’ mold to the T, yet there is still room to express her will in an honest, loving relationship; without being a dominant warrior who “doesn’t need a man.”

We all need to figure out what type of balance we are personally comfortable with. And there are as many shades of men as there are women; so there is always someone who fits with any woman who discovers who she is and expresses it with an open heart.

Reason & Emotion

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I think it’s unethical and unreasonable for people to pretend they are using “reason, free of emotion.” Who are they fooling? When people tell others that their arguments are invalid because there are emotions involved, they are usually speaking from a place of fear.

Emotions can be intimidating or manipulative to another party, even if that’s not the intent. I know this because I always intend to be straight forward but I happen to be a passionate person. So, I speak in an energetic, passionate manner, and then people feel trampled. My intent is not to trample them, but that is the result because it’s a lot for them to take in.

This is the real reason why I need to keep working on myself in this way – because I want to foster open-hearted, honest conversations with people, where they feel present and heard, and not afraid or overwhelmed by my passionate delivery. This way I can foster positive sentiment and create an environment where truth is uncovered from both parties.

But for me, the most truthful insights come out when I’m running on high passion. This is when I can see most clearly and when the universal truths are coming to light. I can’t always get them into words perfectly, but when my emotions are running on high and I’m debating about something, I’m seeing what’s important; even if it’s not always easy to clarify. When I’m calmly talking about some topic without being fully invested in it, I don’t touch on anything important. It’s all empty words; talking just to talk.

So the real reason for me to cut out the emotional juice is to make the other person feel safe. I’m fine with that, and I’m scolding myself this very minute for my latest transgressions of passionate arguing – but it needs to be fully clear that I’m willing to continue trying to reel myself in for the sake of good atmosphere & other people’s comfort. But I’m not “clearing away the feelings” so I can get closer to the truth. For me, the more passionate I feel, the more likely I am to hone in on something that actually matters. My heart has an intelligence of its own.

My ideal arguing scenario is with another equally passionate person who rawrs back at me with high-energy retorts, then gets over it 2 minuets later, along with me. I really like arguing with Kilian and with other choice people who know how to jump right in there and hash it out, full-force. Then when it’s over, after ripping each other’s argument to shreds, “let’s have a coffee!!” In such scenarios, I learn the most and feel the best.


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I don’t like freedom, I feel like I’m not really alive unless I know what I’m willing to die for; and what trajectory I’m on. When I hear “freedom” I hear “nothing to lose” – which is not attractive to me, especially because I’ve been there, involuntarily. All it is, is hunger.
I need a reason to get up in the morning, a sense of purpose that remains constant; something that runs so deep in my bones, I trust it will fuel me for several lifetimes, if only I could live that long. Music did this for me; and my fantasy series, although that has more of a ‘slow burn’ effect during some periods, whereas music is always on red-hot fire mode.

People seem to hold freedom as some kind of ideal. To me, freedom exists only within limits. Meaning there’s something I have to do, somewhere I have to be, some deadline I have to meet. Mortality is intrinsically a limit, so our minds are programmed to exist within it; and I’m all too aware , due to illness, that I could die at any time. To me freedom is knowing that while I was here, I lived. I did something meaningful, valuable, highly specific. Something expressed itself through me. I need to know I surrendered to a force greater than myself — the divine symmetry of music; the epic tapestry of my fictional world. The rhythm of life. 


Freedom is knowing that if the illness takes me from my body tomorrow, I won’t regret what I did (or didn’t do) with my life.  Freedom is knowing my purpose is strong enough that I can justify consuming plants and meat and other resources to survive. That my life was worth the sacrifice of all those other living entities. (It’s not really worth it, but at the very least, I know those sacrifices didn’t go to waste if my life has meaning .)  Without meaning, it seems more morally justifiable to take my own life. 

‘Freedom’ … it’s empty. It’s cold. It’s nothingness, formless.  At least in the sense of being “free of obligation, free of constraint.”  Give me something worth fighting for, something worth dying for. That’s freedom. If I die fighting for it, I’m free to die in peace.

Cognition: SeFi

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~ If it’s not Worth Doing in Excess, it’s not Worth Doing at All ~
Over the past decade, I have engaged an obsessive study of typology, with focus on Enneagram and Jungian functions.  Both systems have been reinterpreted ad nauseum, but I took a holistic approach.  Recently, I discovered a more scientific angle on cognitivetype.com, whose basis for typing, known as vultology, rests on the premise that cognition reveals itself in observable expressions.  There, I was typed as SeFi  based on vultology signals, which matched the psychology I portrayed in a video I submitted and the archetypes I highlighted in my art.  Since then I’ve been in communication with the leading writer of this website, and my SeFi psychology has been confirmed on multiple levels.  
The four functions in my type are Se, Fi, Te and Ni.  My creative work is heavily focused on Fi and Ni, yet my vultology showed that my Se and Te functions were fully conscious in my typing video.  Naturally, this distinction intrigued me, and I’ve been reflecting on it since I was typed.  After some thought, and interaction on the website, we concluded that I am Fi conscious as well. Here, I will unpack the development and expression of my functions, as they manifested in different forms over the years.  
~ Music is Divine Symmetry ~
Morality, inner compass and ability to form crystallizations are all part of the Ji function.  I suspect this was more developed in my youth.  At age 11, I parsed out music theory on my own, and could sight-read chord charts while transposing at the same time.  At 15, I took a theory test at Berklee College of Music, and my scores placed me in top classes alongside the eldest professionals.  I mastered each modicum of my 4.5 octave range and scored 100% in state competitions which required singing opera in foreign languages.  Additionally, I scored 99th percentile on standardized math tests, won awards for Latin and French, and embodied strong personal values.  Singing was my life path, and at 13, my career began.
Everything changed at age 16, when Lyme Disease nearly killed me.  After that, my math scores dropped to 30th percentile and I was unable to remember or learn foreign languages.  Brain scans showed damage to my cognition which improved with Lyme treatment, but never fully recovered.  This brought on disintegration of Ji: I lost my ability to ‘delicately parse things out.’  Worse, I was left speaking in a whisper, with no hope of recovering my voice.  This left me bereft of the music career I had been pursuing for my whole life, stripping me of my hard-earned talents and dreams. 
~ So Carnal, it’s Spiritual ~
As my life path slipped from my grasp, moral clarity evaded me.  I involved myself with men that fell short of my ideals, did drugs even though it was against my previous convictions, and made other compromises to my once rigid standards.  This is how I devolved into my most base form, Anäeia – short for ‘Annihilate.’  She was a conquerer, heartbreaker, hooked on drugs, sex and appetite; an animal.  Anäeia is pictured here with an LSD tablet on her tongue, hungry and ready to feed, with men in the background. Most photographs of her are nude, scarred and bruised, jarring to the senses, yet magnetic. The sheer wildness of her encapsulates the idea that you’re only free when you have nothing to lose. She embodies the myth of the dark trickster which encapsulates my primary cognitive function: Se.
Anäeia was a vampire, undead yet not alive; stripped of her humanity.  She was an animal and a symbol of something primal, but not human.  Her trajectory had been ripped from her ruthlessly, leaving her bereft of direction and dignity.  She hunted to fulfill the desires of the flesh, but what she yearned for most deeply was the soulfelt sense of purpose she once possessed, and the innocent wonder that spawned from it.  Without Ji (conviction and purity) and Pi (long term development of an internal map), she was unleashed, hungry, and empty.
I longed to recover my innocence and to embody my deeper calling once again.  In a desperate attempt to reorient myself, I studied Jung, pored over my psyche and learned to explore and control my dreams.  I would often take LSD and restrict myself to specific artistic mediums to see what was residing in my unconscious.  When I was sober, I would compare the results to old diaries, photographs and music I’d written, mourning the loss of hope and seeking a coherent narrative. 
Over the years, I rebuilt my values and redirected my trajectory toward a purpose.  My reawakening began when I rose from the ashes, singing through my whisper and leading a band to perform my music.  The albums were attached to stories and concepts which were expressed through three manifestations of myself: Erica Xenne (Fi), Prince Ruby Valentine (Ni), and Riki Jane Wild (Te).  I did not know cognitive functions at the time, but this happened organically, and the orientation of each alter-ego is clear.  
~ Art is the Blood of the Exile ~
The surname Xenne combines ‘foreigner’ or ‘stranger’ in the prefix Xen- with ‘not’ in the suffix -Ne. I was alone in an alien world, but no longer a stranger to myself.  I often wore white when I sang in my youth; likewise, Erica Xenne was depicted in white. She resurrected the ghost of my voice and, along with it, my innocence. 

White is essentially Ji: it reflects the colors of the world, but doesn’t absorb them. It mirrors them through music, art and empathy, while remaining separate and true to itself.  My original form was a singer whose music connected to the heart of life; in the Erosia Myth, Erica Xenne embodies this. The magical muse believes in her love for Prince Ruby and holds on to her principles at any cost.  She was born from two people playing music together, absent of any physical contact, and raised by animals in the outer islands of Erosia.  Thus, she was made of pure music and life-force, divorced from any particular species or culture; an entity unto herself.  Since the songs came from her, I wore white when I sang through my whisper.  She embodied the druidic myth of Fi, connecting to the heart of the world in a pure, primal manner, unhindered by social standards and earthly trauma, immune to the corruption in the world, retaining her integrity.  Yet ultimately, she left Erosia, sacrificing her magic power (singing) to follow Ruby into exile. Though she was warned that Dystopia would corrupt their souls and they could never return to Erosia, she was determined, at the very least, to keep Erosia alive in Ruby’s heart.


~ Without a Muse, Music is just Math ~

Prince Ruby Valentine was a mysterious man of royalty.  Unlike Erica, Ruby was tied to a wider context from the moment of conception, and he remained determined to untangle its implications throughout his life.  He was born to Queen Onyx Valentine, the best ruler Erosia ever knew, but she died in childbirth.  He rejected the duties and accolades he was afforded as a Prince, as they seemed inappropriate to him under these conditions, and instead took a vow of silence, determined to communicate only through music, poetry, prose and art, resisting the widespread effort to fill the air with meaningless words.  He retreated to a cabin in the woods and lured all manner of creatures with the call of his guitar.  The Erosia myth portrays the story of his exile from Erosia, resulting from his failure to believe in love, but his depth lies elsewhere.

From his earliest days, Prince Ruby contemplated the God of Erosia, known as Nokoma (“Animal” in his own language), who was credited for giving birth to Erosia.  Ruby wanted to unravel the story behind this and to understand Nokoma’s life as a mortal man, to unpack Erosia’s roots and cosmic significance.  It was the “Ruby” inside me who spawned the fantasy series about Nokoma’s evolution from man to God, which became my life’s work.  Together, Ruby and Erica elected to write the series from the perspective Nokoma’s soulmate; they both understood she was his “compass.”  Nokoma’s lover embodies “Ji” and is drawn to white and gold, but Nokoma himself mirrors me.  In contemplating Nokoma, Ruby is drawn to religions, symbols, typology, archetypes and more, to place both ‘self’ and ‘God’ in a wider context and tap into the rhythms of the world that connect all things, embodying Ni.  He views the world on a cosmic scale where everything is connected and remains detached from the present, as portrayed in the sardonic biography he posts on his profiles: “The line – between myth and religion, dream and reality, making love and fucking – is drawn wherever you start believing.  Believe what you will and have your way with me. Yours, Prince Ruby Valentine.”


~ Tell me the Odds; I’ll Beat them Senseless ~

The trinity is completed by Riki Jane Wild, the “manager,” of the band. She is excluded from the Erosia myth because she is from Earth, named after my father Richard and my mother, Jane.  She met Erica after she was exiled to Dystopia, heard her struggling to sing through her whisper, decided there was something fruitful and marketable in that fight, and designated herself Erica’s manager.  She was more reluctant to take Ruby under her wing, as he appeared lost and aimless, but she eventually came to appreciate his hidden genius and the way it inspired Erica.

Erica resisted the idea of organizing an album, as the songs were written for Ruby, who was against ‘trapping a song in a cage,’ but Riki convinced her that in spite of his ravings, he would appreciate her compiling memories of Erosia.  If not him, others might remember their own personal utopia and overcome setbacks to achieve their dreams.  Erica was moved by this idea, and agreed to buckle down in the studio.

Riki helped Erica to organize her project and battle her many symptoms, to sing despite tremendous odds. She managed Erica’s band, booked shows, auditioned musicians, promoted events, made fliers, took pictures, photoshopped, edited video, and reminded Erica to stop poring over each note so she could finish larger projects.  Erica was determined to capture a perfect reflection of Erosia in the album, to feed Ruby some life and remind him of his heart; but Riki enforced deadlines and made sure the album was released. She understood that ideals were meaningless without concrete results.  As stated in the myth of Te, she served to remind Erica, “your goals don’t care about your feelings.” Due to Riki’s iron hand, the musicians who played shows with the band ‘Erosian Exile’ lovingly referred to her as “Hitler.”

The mythology of Erica Xenne and Prince Ruby Valentine worked together in tandem, incomplete without the presence of the other, and neither one was capable of manifesting on Earth without Riki, who worked to capture their musings in concrete form.  Riki was dedicated to this pair, but also embarked on her own journey: she wrote about politics and other topics extraneous to the band, found jobs, fulfilled responsibilities, and engaged Earthly activities for their own sake. Indeed, the Te development was independent.  


~ A Vessel through which Passion Emerges ~

Anäeia was so hungry and expansive, she left no room for additional alter-egos.  To create the beast, she destroyed the human I had been before.  She is the shadow of my current incarnation, which is more holistic, as it combines destruction and creation, passion and purpose, love and war, now and eternity. 
I have come to sense that, at any given moment, I am animal, human and symbol at once.  Animal is my visceral survival instincts (desire, hunger, carnality); human is my conceptualization of my experience (ideas, endeavors, beliefs); and symbol is my legacy (image, archetype, energy).  I cannot control my symbolism, as it is determined by how others view me; however, if my animal and human are balanced, then my symbolism comes to match my sense of self.  
Recently, I was informed that my work was reminiscent of the Goddess Kali.  I researched her and discovered that her mythos reflected mine, from my aesthetic to my mission.  Like me, her ‘nudity’ – artistic, physical or psychological – strips others of their illusions, laying their truth bare. Cycles of resurgence encapsulate my life in the manner of a phoenix; likewise, Kali represents the dissemination of the boundary between life and death, illuminating the timeless and infinite.  Kali incorporates my deepest purpose, which is why I channeled her unbeknownst to myself, and she is often associated with the Se-Ni axis in the Gamma quadra.  Taking each function separately, as well as Gamma as a whole, it is clear that the manifestations of myself – which are well documented through photos, writing and music – match with these function delineations and their mythology.
The wild pink/red beast, hungry, vampiric and bold (Se)
Erica Xenne
The pure moral compass wearing white, at one with nature, druid reflecting the heart of life in her song (Fi)

Riki Jane Wild
The Earthly “get-to-it” manager, sassy bitch and speaker of political truths (Te)
Prince Ruby Valentine 
The ‘allusion’ or ‘hint’ of something you cant quite see, the shadow, figure in the distance, magnetizing animals and women, raving unintelligibly, weaving a tapestry of archetypes, tapping into the rhythm of the world (Ni)
Nokoma – Animal – Volcana
The vessel through which passion emerges; the phoenix rising from the ashes.  Timeless symbol of resurrection and fight, holding a mirror to the world to show them the bold, naked truth until their illusions explode; deathless, naked and eternal (Gamma)


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When it comes to lust, most people cant touch the outermost edges of my extremes.  Some people need more sex than I, but my lust still knows no bounds.

It’s not just about the body – it’s about a need to own the person completely; to conquer his soul.  To possess, rule and infiltrate every fucking inch of his mind, body, heart; even his dreams and his past.  To have him do the same with me.  I want absolutely no pebble unturned, no corner of his mind that I can’t reach, no lost memory that I haven’t ravaged for everything it’s worth.  I need to be King, Queen, Princess, Prince and people to him.  He is my dominion and I am his.

Lust is even more dangerous perhaps, for me, than those who are purely physical.  Because the physical will never approach the depths I need to infuse in order to feel even a drop of satisfaction for a mere moment and then hunger for more.  The universe is not big enough to compete with the lengths I will go to in order to reach every fucking corner of every past life and every future life; to completely own him.  Limits, boundaries, ‘good ‘ and ‘bad,’ dirty… none of this has any place in this world.  His soul will be devoured down to the last grain until there is nothing left between us but øne.

Sacred Darkness

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I don’t have a lot of ‘scholarly knowledge’ about the Bible. Nonetheless, I view the Bible as a collection of tales that were rehashed from Sumerian tablets and other works which were likely rehashed from even older works (humanity may be much older than we realize, evidence is showing). The rehashing and same themes & names among many stories over time is rather obvious, but the question that piques my interest is: why? What kind of control over the mind do ideas like “original sin” — or sin at all — allow? Is this a tool that governments and institutions have used to control our minds? 

It is beyond obvious to me that the crushing of sacred darkness is a ploy by the powers that be– at any given time in history – to enslave us.

Those who are awake can understand – and embody – the idea that there is no shadow without light. Different people may play a different archetypal role in this balance – so this is not to say that everyone’s personal balance should be the same. But anyone who opens their minds’ eye can see clearly that shadow and light both give form to things. Night and day give rhythm to things. It is insane to try to crush one or the other in oneself, or even worse, in the whole of humanity. To dictate where “everyone” should fall on that scale is to open up a huge pocket that isn’t being filled, leaving space for terrible evil to balance out the light that is being forced on us and translated to repression. When everyone must only focus on the light, they repress the dark, and that space of sacred darkness still needs to be occupied in the cosmos and in human consciousness — so what fills it? — something really fucking horrific that balances “the light.”  This is why those of us who can see, will not aim to repress darkness in ourselves and others.

I have a tendency to repress light in myself– such as love, forgiveness, giving, compassion — I have worked hard on that. I have naturally very strong compassion to the point where I feel the feelings of others at times. I once was told “You have strong mirror neurons.” When watching a movie, I am the characters for that time period. But I learned early on to close my heart to real humans and open it only to music, characters and my own creative work, because otherwise it would get crushed – especially after I lost my voice, which was the direct channel through which I could deliver messages from the aether I live in. I was isolated and otherworldly, and I went through a deep, powerful process to reconnect. This is what Erica Xenne’s white dress is about in Erosia: sacred light. Prince Ruby Valentine is the darkness, and the two illuminate each other and give each other form.



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I keep seeing slogans like, “All artists and writers feel like frauds.” Speak for yourself. I wrote my first full song at age 8 and first 400 book at age 12 – or allowed them to write themselves through me. I have shed every ounce of my blood, sweat and tears, sacrificing most else in the name of my work for as long as I have lived. Speaking in a whisper didn’t stop me from singing and chronic illness didn’t stop me – a very shitty writer – from giving everything I have to improve and do justice to this vision. I am not a fucking fraud- Earth is more shallow to me than anything related to my home planet and the work I do to impart its legends. 

That said, I do feel, very often, that I’m not enough.
I don’t have what it takes to do justice to this vision.
The vision itself is not something people will care about.

But I would be even less if I abandoned it. The dream would eat away at me until I joined the walking dead.

The fight is still on. Battles may be lost but the war will be won. I will suck the blood from the heart of this vision and explode it back out in a fury. Erosia will be mine.