• Travis Ryan


Moving constantly serves to prolong the inevitable, that eventually, “law enforcement” will catch me and hold me in a way that my physical form can’t wriggle free of. My Astral form still escapes each night while I “sleep”, I haven’t been idly snoozing for months, night time is serious business for me. I meditate with earplugs in, essentially converting all the sounds of carnage around me into a muffled buzz, then I let my mind drift and focus on my breathing until I can feel the Kick. I describe this in terms of hallucinogenic trips, because that’s essentially what it is. The “Kick” is the moment I can feel my astral body start to pull away from my physical incarnation, out of body experience is how it starts. At this point I can slowly turn around, and view myself sleeping. If I can still continue to control my breathing this detachment can be preserved in this sweet spot, which is just the jumping off point. Out-of-world experience is what it turns into, the only way for me to strengthen myself, in this dimension, is to continuously train my astral self at night.

I’m not a chakra stroking, patchouli rubbing, mantra chanting, Zen warrior. If you are that’s okay, we all have our character defects… But I will say this, there IS another dimension, maybe hundreds of them, if you’ve dreamed, you’ve been there. If you explore and expand your mind in that dimension, a matter of simple exploration, the results will follow you back into your everyday life. Being awake in this current dimension is no less miraculous and crazy a concept as going to sleep and passing into another reality that is just as “real”. Dogs run while they sleep. Sharks swim while they sleep. Horses stand. Humans too, have the abilities to do those things and so much more.

This world I speak of is exciting on a level that makes the “real world” seem like you’re sleeping. It is not constrained by the same rules, time, space, gravity, are all completely controllable variables if they even apply at all they are not as infallible laws. This is not an advertisement for why Astral projection is fucking awesome, the inevitable fact is that I will end up committing a crime, that they lock down my physical form for. I am pumping new ideas, thoughts, and actions into the universe, which has made me a target for social persecution, and legal prosecution. This will not stop until I give up my purpose and settle into a more “normal” lifestyle. I have considered, and even tried this option, but not reaching my potential and settling for less are fast tracks to death for a person like me. Any recovering addict will tell you that purpose is extremely important, and knowing what mine is and not pursuing it is long, slow suicide.

Any day spent not using the gifts bestowed upon me by an eternal being outside of my comprehension or understanding is sacrilegious and a wasted day. Any night spent in a dreamless slumber is a wasted night. I have been drowning in a pool of wasted potential, a pool that I have since stepped out of, it is currently “go time”. People like me are in every culture all over the world, and are revered in some as “artists”, “engineers”, “writers”, but to bring it back to the more primitive side of things and distill it down to simplicity, I use the term “Shaman”. Shaman doesn’t mean that I have mystical or magical fucking powers, or that I’m better than anyone, because in A LOT of ways I’m much worse. Alcoholic, Addict, no respect for authority, toxic relationship connoisseur, the list goes on and on. That list is also why in most cultures, shamans are forced to be celibate, we tend to make pretty shitty boyfriends. All it means is, whoever the fuck is driving this giant galactic bus has decided intentionally, or fucked up while creating me and gave me more sensitive skills of perception/relation, the abilities to astral project seamlessly, and cut to the core of issues with my word usage.

I am a literary shaman, I’m not even close to, and don’t want to be a messiah, I don’t believe in organized religion, as I have seen where we go when the natural DMT stores flood our brains, and it is primal, beautiful, and indescribable with human tongues, but it is not dependent on how you lived this “life” or who you pray to/ hand your money to. By many people’s account and opinion, I’m a trouble maker, and can be sort of a shitbag. It’s a tradeoff, Davinci, Kennedy, Picasso, Mozart, and even the classic Jesus, according to who you ask were given the same titles, but it’s most definitely a necessary evil, because people like me add perspective and guidance when things get confusing, as they always do…

In a lot of cultures, they put those labeled “shaman” in a small residence, provide them with the essentials, and an endless supply of drugs, booze, and allow them to do their thing away from the rest of the community. Only visiting when they need a fresh look at a problem. Whether illness, political discord, whatever, and the fact that the shaman is “blessed/cursed” with increased perceptual abilities, and doesn’t have a political or religious dog in the fight, enables them to convey really solid advice or guidance, in theory. Sometimes they just relay messages from the other dimensions which other people don’t have the time or focus to visit themselves, the shaman spends at least his sleeping hours in. Meditation and drugs aid the shaman to reach these dimensions in his waking hours.

My purpose is simple, write down everything that bubbles out of my crazy, degenerate mind in whatever format it comes out, and then pass it on to the universe. In waking hours, that looks like me scribbling with pencil on a legal pad. In sleeping hours, my pieces are written on a sphere made of pulsing mercury and the words dissipate into a glowing cosmic dust as I write them with a phoenix feather (I understand that, that doesn’t make sense to you) that’s the best way I can describe it. And after that process, whatever happens, happens. Its not for me to understand, as I’m not necessarily meant for you to understand.

Have you ever had “rug burn”? It hurts so bad because the protective skin has been rubbed off, exposing nerve endings and making that area more perceptive to heat, pressure, really everything. This is what this gift/curse hybrid feels like. Many things that “normal” people are numb to I feel full blast. At night while your world turns into tranquil darkness, mine is fully alive and not always with pleasant things either. People like me are nerve endings for the human experience, we feel and report so you don’t have to. That is also why many of us are alcoholics/drug addicts. But I’m sure you know if you’ve ever gotten soap on a rug burn, that you would’ve done just about anything to dull the pain. That was only momentary pain. People like me also tend to die sooner than others, but because of astral projection at night, in a way, we live much longer. Either way we’re not intended to meander on and on. The mission is clear, different strokes for different folks, we’re like dogs. Get in, spread Love, cause chaos, and get out.

My mission is not complete, and it seems like the only way I’m going to achieve it is to keep moving. This was foreshadowed for me as a kid when my favorite movies were “Road Warrior” and “fast and the furious”, both movies about running from earthly problems.

Once I’m permanently locked in a cage or wooden box, the mission will continue through my writings, and through those who remember me for as long as the universe needs it to.

I’m not running this show, but I have to keep this torch burning, constantly running from the rain, this little light O’ mine.

“Speech shaman” “Delusions of grandeur” “anti-social” “Astral reporter”

Travis Muffhuggin Ryan


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