When Trying To Explain   

A Collection of Writings by Anthony Flores

When trying to explain that everything you remember is made up of patterns.

Small Green Rooms

It started as shallow water
until it filled up.
Over my head and
thrusting into my body.
Filling up my lungs,
as the cells opened.
The walls were lined with emeralds
and the keys were nowhere to be found.

The door which I had come through
was one-sided.
While the second,
slowly made itself apparent.
A realization that I was never the bigger entity,
but rather,
the smallest.

Making my way through the keyhole of the door
on the left.
I allowed myself to die
but made it through to the other side.

D & D

The Wizard claimed it was from NASA.
The words that came out of his mouth were enough to make the world seem like a playing field.



Imagery of unicorns, dragons, glass tubes, and computers surrounded us as the room went silent.
The slip was handed to me.
Blessed by a mage.

From One World to the Next

Painting a picture only became relevant when
the public decided to think for themselves.
As a collective.
As the audience.
As the ones

questioning –

for clarification.
Without artist representation,
one loses the original voice.
Without a strong sense of
one becomes blinded by the numbers.
Without the context,
there is no realm.

Highways at Night

Finding yourself being comforted by
the others.
Blanketed by the night –
into the next world,
through tragedy and aloneness.
Speeding down the concrete,
gasoline running through the veins.
Unnecessary power calls for a deeper realization.

Mentha Spicata

I closed my eyes as the glitter was placed upon me. 

She said, “Here, you look better this way.”
Smearing pigments of red underneath.

I knew she felt the vibrations from within me. She was one of the first to know the real me. One of the few others, besides family, who has seen me cry. My mental awareness silenced by what had just occurred.

She said, “Let’s forget about Him. Let’s forget about Them.”
Sensitivity becoming eminent. 

We bought bottles of red wine, champagne, and cigarettes before the party.

It Came in Numbers

Being outside, but feeling pulled in.
My physical self remained still,
while the inner depths of my body placed itself within the circle.
There were six figures.
The vibrations became apparent again. They collided with the Others.

Green, everything Green.

The color of life.
The color of the lighting structuring itself to become known.
I found myself – my mind,
intertwined with those around me.

We watched from outside the gate.


Alas, the time is eleven.

We have powdered our noses and repeated the same lines four or five times. Into the room of mirrors we go – with starry eyes and dressings to die for. A bit of glitter in the corner of my eye. People laughing, dancing. Everything has a bit of a gold tone, a bit of a surreal feeling.

Champagne in

Filled to the brim with the emotion the night will bring. It’s a bit frightening – a bit sensual. The room smells a bit like cigarettes and expensive perfume. 

The place to go before the party.

Reoccurring Numbers

I started thinking about you after the forth time. These oddly-fated experiences added up and I wanted to know why. Proceeding with caution during real life is the only thing that makes me feel comfortable now. I find myself seeking oracles to help me find any sort of clue.

It feels like I’m going insane. Playing the game of hide and seek with vibrations produced by the body. The feeling of wanting to say everything at once but knowing that I cannot say anything at all – stopped in my tracks before I even try.

I dreamt about snakes again. This time a purple one followed me and tried to bite me. I saw them slithering all over the floor of every place that I went to. I kept avoiding their direction at all cost. But the temptation to see them became too great.  

Note to self; look up what purple snakes mean in dreams.


Houston is a place where the mind can wander.
A place that feels like home.

Filled with beings from many places; you are truly never alone.
Gorging on food and pleasure – the chaotic energy of what is to come.

A place where everyone is a part of.
A place of growing and defeat.

Rising up again to conquer all demons.

Pausing to recollect and pausing to take it all in.  The hustle of wanting to become more than what you currently are.

Intertwined is the calmness – the pause for family and love.
The beauty of the stillness amongst the busy streets and winding bayou.
The single eye that we live in. The outer rings almost complete.

Houston is a place for dreamers.
A place for people who get shit done.
Despite our typical human nature, all of us have already won.  


Interviewer: What is the meaing of Life?

Anonymous: The Meaning of Life is to figure yourself out – and to help others along the way. To care for the World around you and figure out what you want to say.

In my mind, there is a: 
Video Vixen
– speeding down the highway, lighting up that cigarette;
she owns her life. 

She’s the High Priestess. La Bruja. The Occultist. 

Shapeshifting to match your desires and shed light to all of the dark corners.

To Help. To Forgive. To Love. To Lust. To Gaze at. To Unleash.

She’s the higher being within me. The other One to always be there. Upon thinking about it – I don’t know why this form was taken. It was rather something my mind would keep going back to. A being so strong that nothing can get in the way. Feelings of Anguish, feelings of Ego. All shut down. Only Power. She had aways been there (probably as a result from a little too much MTV) – but now she was the Master.

To help achieve the balance between forgiving yourself and forgiving others. No one could say shit anymore; no words or actions could offend. As bad as it got, she made me the higher being. The Confidence. The Confident. She created a steel bubble of only Love and Freedom. To escape other’s vile actions and words is the pathway to total immunity. 

The Priestess plays with the Shaman.

Interviewer: ......

Anonymous: It’s like when you choose a video game character. Who’s gonna be your avatar?

At Lunch

I like David Lynch’s movies because he writes how I think.
Some details here and there; something very long. Something that’s all over the place but building you up for something – anything.

Maybe, maybe not.

There’s something a bit sensual, yet ominous lurking over the purity of the characters. The story follows the path of a circle with small checkpoints; recall the checkpoints for the conclusion.

The fantasy intertwines with the reality.

Mano Pantea

Almost like anguish; the way that the feeling decides to show itself.

Starting from something small – growing rapidly. I know it’s a blessing but most of the time it feels like a curse.

“Not many people feel that, not many people realize it’s even happening,” she proclaimed.

Feeling the stillness of the room invade my mind, then slowly my body. She told me it would start off as a warm feeling. When the action had taken place, I would realize what it was that was meant to occur. It seemed a bit confusing; having the second part come first. Knowing the emotion of the answer before it even happened. A sort of mental preparedness, if you will. But without any context or warning.

Jumping into the void with the tools from the past, present, and future.

“It’s Me Again”

Hey - haven’t been here for a while.
Just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.

I stopped doing that thing where I spiral into the vortex of not knowing where my feet will land. I’ve freed myself from the feeling of wanting to be in control. I think now is a time for people to settle in after the internal shock we all experienced - you know, globally. I think my time spent on psychedelic drugs made me enter the other door. You know - the one that was next to the other one? 

.....the one everyone else went through? Some people were too indecisive with the options.  

I looked over the skyline this time and I could feel that maybe being on this side was actually better. Maybe where this road led could revive the feeling from inside again.

At least the feeling was still there at all. 

I’ve started to notice patterns again. Instagram and Tik Tok memes make it seem like mental illness is a dramatic comedy - proving to me that we really can be anything. 

I didn’t know I was a spiritualist. The occult followed me everywhere since birth.
So maybe it’s another pattern.