When I was a boy, I looked at an eclipse with my bare eyes in The South Bronx of burnt out buildings.

A strange thing happened afterward.

A bright light appeared in front of my bedroom window, as did a hurricane inside my room that scattered my comic books around, among other objects.

I was being pulled into the light.

It was sheer force of will that prevented the little boy I was from disappearing into another dimension.

I wasn’t ready for a new reality.

This is the persistence of my memory. 

I recall being gifted in childhood with photographic memory and creativity.

I remember doctors that wanted to administer a new drug designed to dissolve a gland in the head of the little boy I was.

 I stared into the eyes of a doctor. He didn’t give me the drug.

The place where it happened was destroyed.

Today, it’s a parking lot of sorts for The New York City Police Department.

In The New Millennium, a young American man tried to get inside the building my mother has resided in for decades.

 He identified himself as Mark Wilson, a reporter for The New York Post.

He wanted to interview eyewitnesses to several bright lights across the building that hovered for a few seconds before taking off at unbelievable speed.

I studied pictures on his cell phone. 

Mister Wilson, I am sure you are reading this, as I am sure of scientific evidence to prove aliens have been on this gem of a planet for thousands of years.

One of the aliens is called poverty.

Make with the mild mannered reporter thing and help change the world for the best.

I am transmitting this final message from a public library in The South Bronx.

Afterward, I will go out into the street and look into the eclipse.

I wasn’t ready to leave the world when I was a kid.

I am ready

Now

My Re@l Life @s @ Comic Book

New York Radiology made MRI of my brain. Conceptual art and text by

D@niel @ngel @ponte

Copyrighted 2017

http://admericaintechnicolor.blogspot.com

There is light at the end of the media time tunnel or is that a lit fuse?

I died and went to Google Heaven

Mind Over Media WAKAWAKAWAKA Media Over Mind

Sick from LOL too much

Yesterday were incredible displays of cloud formations and air scented with Paradise over The South Bronx and the rest of New York City.

A chaplain came to see me at my hospital bed.

He told me a joke.

Two friends were arguing over if baseball was played in Heaven.

One friend said if he died first he’d come back to Earth to tell him.

He died and came back to tell his friend Heaven allows ballgames.

The bad news is that you’re pitching tomorrow.

My doctor saw me talking to myself and asked me when was the last time I saw my psychiatrist. Why would you assume I’m under the care of a psychiatrist, I asked him.

Doc, if you don’t mind I’m in the middle of a conversation with God.

Saint Barnabas sent me off for brain scans.

I need proof of brain.

MRI Of My Brain By New York Radiology

Copyrighted By My Brain