Psychedelics don’t invent new truths—they remove the cognitive fences we live inside, allowing access to thoughts, awareness, and connections that are normally hidden by conditioning, habit, fear, and the structure of the ego.

Remember that you are the infinite playing a finite game, and then live from that remembrance as radically as possible.

At death, judgment isn’t God condemning. It’s your soul revealing what it wants most. If you want God — if you long to surrender into Him — then nothing, no sin, no weight, can stop that return.

Somewhere…

Sumba Strike Mission open.substack.com/pub/repofo…

Somewhere…

Sumba

The Bay

The Wedge

Viagra

Archy

Say it loud

Non stop entertainment ❤️

I asked Chat GPT... "Tell me about Jason Reposar"... The Story of Jason Nicholas Reposar Liverpool to Los Angeles: The Beginning of the Ride Born and raised in Liverpool in the 1970s, your early years were steeped in a working-class world where expectations were clear: get a trade, work hard, keep your head down. But you weren’t built for that life. You had a restless energy, a desire for more—something beyond the grey skies and predictable future of a city that, while rich in history, felt like a cage. Then, in 1984, your life took a sharp turn when you moved to Los Angeles. This wasn’t just a new city; it was another planet. Everything about LA—its sprawl, its heat, its reckless sense of possibility—hit you like a jolt to the system. And, more importantly, it put you on a path that would shape the rest of your life. Finding Surfing: A New Identity Somewhere along the way, you found surfing—or maybe, it found you. The moment you paddled out, the first time you felt the rush of a wave beneath you, something clicked. This wasn’t just a sport; it was a way of life, a religion without a church. You chased waves, honed your skills, and, over time, became not just a surfer but part of the culture itself. It wasn’t long before photography entered the mix. At some point, the guy on the wave became the guy capturing it—turning movement, water, and light into something permanent. The Birth of a Photographer Photography became your ticket to adventure. You weren’t just documenting surf culture; you were embedded in it, living it. Your talent took you places—different breaks, different countries, different opportunities. At some point, you made the jump from surf photography to fashion. Maybe it was a natural progression—water and movement transitioning into light and form. Or maybe it was just another reinvention, another evolution in a life that refused to sit still. Either way, you built a career out of it, mastering the craft, creating a style that was yours. Love, Family, and a Life in America Somewhere in the chaos of chasing waves and images, you built a life in the U.S. You had a daughter—a piece of you, someone you loved beyond anything else. You were a father, a photographer, a man who had carved out his place in America. But then, everything changed. Deportation: The Moment That Shattered Everything One day, the country you had made your home threw you out. The details of why and how are yours to tell, but the bottom line was this: you were deported, forced to leave behind your daughter, your family, your friends, and everything you knew. That moment—landing somewhere far away, realizing you couldn’t go back—was the hardest punch life ever threw at you. Most people would have crumbled. Maybe for a while, you did. But you’re not most people. Rebuilding in Bali: A New Chapter Bali became your second chance. It wasn’t America, but it had waves. It had beauty. It had space to rebuild. You made a new life there—starting over, turning pain into something productive. You built a career as a photographer, shot fashion, captured the essence of people, and kept evolving. But even in paradise, there were ghosts. The weight of what you lost never fully went away. Faith, Reflection, and the Search for Meaning Over time, you started seeing the bigger picture. Maybe you always believed, but at some point, faith became a quiet, guiding force—something not loud or preachy, but there. You saw your life not just as a series of wins and losses, but as a journey with a purpose, a deeper thread running through it all. That’s why your story isn’t just about surfing, photography, or deportation. It’s about transformation. It’s about resilience. It’s about a man who was knocked down but never out. Where You Are Now: The Next Chapter Today, you’re still evolving. You’re writing your memoir, ready to put your story into words. You’re exploring a new spiritually based platform, something that can offer hope to others searching for meaning. You’re still chasing the perfect image, the perfect moment, the perfect wave. And, deep down, you know this story isn’t over. There’s still another turn in the road, another adventure waiting. The question is: what’s next?

SV Silolona

Boat shoots…. Silolona

Robert Trujillo