PHEELING LIKE HOME

Part I — INITIATION: “Somewhere, Nowhere, Everywhere”

Steph, alone in his room, feels like a glitch in the code. Minor inconveniences stack like warning messages from a system he never asked to log into. He tries to function—gaming, working, scrolling—but everything feels off. Death in the family—becomes the rupture that cracks reality. He begins seeing strange numbers, echoes of spiritual symbols, the weight of grief hanging like static. A memory flashes: double dutch ropes, missed chances, denied joys. His queerness, once a sanctuary, now a pressure point. He doesn't know it yet, but he's just taken a bite from the Tree of Life.

Part II — DESCENT: “Let’s Go Anywhere But Here”

Steph leaves everything familiar—emotionally, spiritually, and literally. Let’s Go Anywhere But Here is a cry for relief. He takes a trip that starts as an escape but becomes a confrontation. Desert highways become dreamscapes. People he meets mirror parts of himself: the fixer, the ghost, the gatekeeper, the healed. He begins to see the patterns: the repetition in his fears, the echo of divine nudges (angel numbers, strange dreams, coincidences too specific to ignore). The more he tries to run, the more he’s led right back to himself.

Part III — INTEGRATION: “The Rough Drapht”

Now back Home, Steph is different. He walks the same streets but sees the code behind them. Instead of fear, there’s frequency. He no longer runs from the questions—he builds rituals, stories, and designs around them. The blog, the drawings, the rainbow-arched reflections are part of it. He still feels the weight sometimes, but it doesn’t crush him anymore. He knows now: joy is not dangerous—it’s data. His rough draft wasn’t a mistake—it was a myth in motion.

fin.