Soundtrack, “Do What You Want, Be What You Are” by Hall & Oats
Lesson #1
Life goes on, with or without me. Fads come and go, hit songs become golden oldies, all my insecurities and self-conscious tendencies slip away leaving behind silent movie memories, like puddles evaporating in time—— seasons never end, they just change, a circle of revolving eternities….again I’ll wait for you to come round again—I’m no longer in a hurry, infinity is patient.
Lesson #2
I use to give a shit what people thought, but I’ve come to realize that everyone is so self-absorbed that no one gives a damn about anyone other than themselves—-just a cavalcade of egocentric, narcotic sons of a bitches———And they move through life as though everyone else is a hollow prop, a means to an end, a thing to be manipulated for their own good. Why is it so hard for us to see this life beyond our own selfish experiences and desires?
It’s not that far of a walk till dawn, until Mr Sun bumps his head up against that dogged horizon. Ya see, light can’t wait for time to give birth to another day. I awake to find that I’m still here, alive and ready to breathe. I”m not afraid, nor sorry, cause that’s just waisted time, let the sky creep towards blueness and let the dew sparkle like diamonds to decorate the glory of forever forgetting, rebirth brings amnesia——Who were you before this? I think I must have known you from some other place and time, maybe a lover, a brother, mother, my child, aren’t we all somehow connected? Fools are the bitter ones, dismissing miracles, failing to see the expression of god within stars and dust——the lucky ones grow closer to the day, to themselves, to others,——to what is…….
The bathroom mirror mocks me. I dip my chin and turn my head one way and then the other. “Here I am——this is who I am, what I’ve become through choice and consequence. As of late I’ve become keenly aware of my two selves. My private self and my public self. I’ve lived a divided existence, a chameleon, a shape shifter, camouflaging myself into an unchanging innocuous background. I’m struck by the notion of congruency.
Somewhere along the way I’d lost myself. I’d allowed myself to fracture into a million faux personalities. I did this to please others, to protect myself, to fit in, to avoid indiscretions, to appear normal, to simulate appropriateness——I’d been a faker, a fraud—-These days I’d rather be notorious than anonymous. Authenticity comes with a license to be free, to be crazily sane, to be who ever you choose to be!
Lesson #3
As I’ve grown older I’ve begun to allow my layered selves to coalesce into a unified me. Such a task requires practice, but at the end of the day it has liberated me. One of the blessings of aging is that it has stripped me of my vanities. I am who I am, no more pretending——the sky is the sky, my dog is my dog, life is life, what is “is” and so on and so forth….The simplest of ideas are the most difficult to grasp!
I’ve been thinking about friendships and it has occurred to me that my closest friends are the ones who allow me to be myself without pretension or expectation. They know me, they get me, and in spite of my faults, failures and foibles, they forgive me. Needless to say, these days I have fewer friends, but the ones I have help me become a better me.
To be understood is to be loved. And to be lovable requires honestly and vulnerability.
I’d love to say that this life is beautiful, kind and forgiving, but that would be like saying oxycontin will erase your hurt. Pain can be numbed and managed, but hurt is only consoled by forgiveness and love, of others, as well as oneself. Many choose to conceal their hurt rather than drag it out into the blinding light of truth——we are only as sick as our secrets. Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine. Such a pact will seal our love. We can only get as close to one another as we are true to one another.It will always be the same for us——us against the world.
Life’s not a journey, but rather a labyrinth. It’s a series of false starts, cul-de-sacs and trap doors. Mr Frost had it right when he spoke of “A road less traveled”. To be lost is part of being alive, as there is no map or compass, there is only well worn paths or those containing briars and weeds. Such a path is as Robert said, “the one that will make all the difference”.
My demons come clothed as jealousy, anger, fear and dacite. I know them well, they’ve surprised me in the dark passages that lead me into dead ends..There is no right road, no one path, no absolute destination, there are as many north stars as there are pious prayers.
How come the people who need love the most are the ones who push it away. And, why is it, that the ones who need help the most are the ones who refuse it. I guess it’s because we don’t always get what we deserve. No—- we get what we get. And, as my daughter would to tell me at the tender age of five“Ya get what ya get, and ya don’t throw a fit”.
Who’s blessed?– What’s fair?– Where’s safe?——Nobody knows———mercy is an ocean where we drown our faults, fears and doubts.
From our mothers womb we are pushed into this life screaming and crying. We are dependent on the care and kindness of absolute strangers. They hold us, love us, feed us, teach us and provide us shelter. And all to soon, we’re pulled from this world in much the same way that we arrived, crying out for our mothers. In the midst of this ever revolving circle we are forever repurposing ourselves. We become many things. Careful what you value, for in the end these things become you.
At the core of my life there exists a terrible sadness. It has to do with my fixation on death. It seems such a cruel law of nature that we must abide by. God must be a prankster. To give us so much, and then so quickly take it all away. I miss all of those I’ve lost.
Somehow–someone–someway–please slow down this life, I’ve already given up to many irreplaceable things.
We are all so very courageous, but sometimes it feels as if it’s us against the world.
Hugging is a strange and awkward gesture. It’s a custom used both as a greeting and a farewell. Somewhere beneath the skin, the bones, the muscle and the surging blood vessels, we share a primal need to reach out to embrace one another. And in doing so, we become totally vulnerable to a huggers intentions. You may be exposing yourself to an emotional pick pocket, or a freeloading groper—not to mention a host of uninvited germs and viruses. There is no escaping a determined hugger, they’ll track you down and then attach themselves to you like a lonely depraved sea urchin.
Arm in arm and cheek to cheek, we appear to fit together as if by design. At birth we go from the womb to a mothers embrace, and as children we are mercilessly hugged by our immediate family, friends and relatives. But, as we grow older such signs of affection become fewer and far between. I’ve noticed that old folks tend to give longer hugs then younger folks. It’s as if they know they have to take full advantage of each hug they’ve been granted. You can see their eyes twinkle as their soul-ness battery is being charged.
If a baby is not held and loved it will fail to thrive. Such physical neglect will cause an infant to slowly wither away and die. In some ways, we humans are very durable and resilient, yet in other ways we are as fragile as gossamer threads.
Our bodies are very personal to us, they’re our fortress, our little vessel we captain throughout life. To splay ones arms open to another is a sign of unspoken trust. To afford someone this form of naive intimacy requires courage and at times a restrained tolerance. Some hugs are like dental appointments, you know its the right thing to do, but it’s a task you’d just as soon get over with as quickly as possible.
I wish I could hug better, but it really isn’t in my style. I freeze up when blitzed by a crazed bear hugging intruder. I feel my body go ridged when a hug is unexpectedly thrust upon me. In truth, I’d rather just give a hand shake or better yet, a knuckle bump then offer up my entire body for a casual squeeze. I don’t much care to be touched unless I feel extremely close to another person.
Some people are serial huggers. This includes those affection starved co-workers who feel compelled to hug you at the office potluck, or the new age neighbor who surprises you on a walk and embraces you as if you were their long lost sibling. Or, how bout the spine cracking dude-hug from that blundering sweat and beer stench-ed “bro”. It eludes me how any woman could find a fumbling, whisker burn of a man-hug, in anyway appealing. Then you have the weird old cologne drenched guy who gives long back rubbing hugs to any female he can stalk, corner and then smother with creepy-ness—-yuk…..
There are several kinds of hugs. There is the limp wimpy ones and then there’s the stern “I mean business” kind of hug. There’s the macho hug where guys grasp hands and bump shoulders, often used to fiend off any speculation of gayness. Grannies and little kids will sometimes slip in a sweet peck on the cheek. Hot chicks get tired of being hugged all the time, so they often discreetly lean into you maintaining their personal space and then making a hasty retreat.
A good hug comes from the heart. I don’t want one of those “have a nice day” hugs, or one of those cold obligated hugs that are offered up at weddings and funerals. A fake hug has a “one night stand” indifference to it. “Hey, here’s my number, maybe we can hug again sometime.” These are self serving desperate hugs that leave you feeling empty and used.
You’ll know a real hug when you’re lucky enough to receive one. They’re soft, warm and yielding, like chocolate melting in your mouth. In fact, once you are done hugging, you feel as if that person has left a little piece of their heart inside yours.
“I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.” — Robin Williams
Sometimes the people who act like they don’t need hugs are the ones who need them the most. Even though hugs may be strange, awkward and weird, they convey a lot more than words ever could, I know this because I’m a writer. Words can express ones feelings, thoughts and emotions, but the human touch is nourishment for the heart.
“All humans are fragile, hugs help hold us together……” VU
The soundtrack is “Ain’t No Reason” by Brett Dennen
Craigslist Advertisement
I am looking for a newer or slightly used god with plenty of sole still left on the soul. Must have bad eyesight, poor hearing and a failing memory—the less of my actions you can see, hear or remember the better. Must have a great sense of humor and be easily amused, as you will endure petty attempts by me to curry your favor. These stunts may include but are not limited to, praying for the correct lottery numbers, missing church to play golf (yet praying to make a three foot putt) mumbling my way through the lords prayer due to never actually learning the correct words, pleading for hangover relief, bargaining in an attempt to get myself out of tight spots, covertly eyeing chicks at the beach and allowing my dog to poop on my least favorite neighbors lawn and snickering about it.
You will be expected to shower me with unconditional love in spite of my selfish, egocentric and narcissistic ways—I may not be much, but I’m all I think about. I’ll require a limitless credit line on forgiveness and “Get out of jail free cards”. Preferably you are omniscience, omnipresence and omnipotence or at least have an iPhone with a sire application. The work schedule requires you to be on duty 24/7 with no time off for holidays or vacations. Prayers are expected to be answered promptly—— automated voice menus are strictly prohibited e.g. (“For a medium size miracle please press one”, “To talk a police officer out of a ticket please press two”).
Providing me with a users guide to the universe is mandatory. Bonus chapters on how to unlock the enigmas that make up a females psyche will be a huge plus. Demigods, saints or angels need not apply—-you must be a full fledged god equipped with all the standard godly powers e.g. grant miracles, endless love and forgiveness, turn water to wine/beer, raise the dead, allow opportunities for me to get lucky (kind of like raising the dead), able to turn old girlfriends into pillars of salt, provide free tickets to sold out ballgames, able to provide unwarranted gifts such as excellent performance reviews and promotions, passing tests results without studying and generally be available to open doors to fame, fortune and eternal happiness. Vengeful gods who throw lightening bolts, hurl sinners into lakes of fire or threaten eternal damnation need not apply. Also, gods over a milliim old will not be considered, as I’m looking for some new blood.
Some God Options—Caveat Emptor
Yes, lately I’ve been shopping for a better god. Well, not better par se, but maybe newer and improved. Mom and Pops antiquated god just hasn’t kept up with the changing times. The tale tale signs of wear and tear are ripping holes in the holy. All those archaic railings against birth control, homosexuality and women’s’ rights is causing congregations to shrink as fast as a middle aged man’s libido minus viagra. Those tired old white, heterosexual, male gods are beginning to lose their relevance. If only the dead could speak, so many could tell you crazy stories of how they fought and died over who’s god was more godly.
Christianity touts that you can be born again and have ever lasting life by simply following their basic ten commandments, accept everything literally in a book that’s over 2,000 years old and accepting that a god/man died for your sins on a cross (something I still don’t understand).This seems like a bit of false advertising, as Jesus is the only person/deity who has risen from the dead and he was only seen by a handful of folks. No one has seen hide nor hair of him in over two thousand years, not so much as a selfie has even been posted on Facebook. He apparently utilizes televangalist as his emissaries, these folks claim to speak to him on a daily basis and if you send them a donations they’ll pray for your salvation. Oh yeah, the real kicker that they love to throw out at you is this, “If you don’t believe in their god and their specific dictums, then you will rot in hell——Oh, so loving and compassionate.
Then you have your more exotic eastern religions. Buddhism states that by abstaining from desire you will then overcome suffering (all suffering is derived from desire). This virtuous claim was made by a shirtless portly guy wearing a cheesecake eaten grin who looks like a before picture from a Jenny Craig advertisement. He appears to have a hefty appetite for someone who has relinquished all desire and has conquered the desires of the flesh. He looks more like a guy who meditates on jelly donuts and seeks enlighten through endless trips to the buffet table. The monks sit idle on the corner with their beggars bowl and wait for those who work to toss them something to eat, kind of like the homeless guys you see holding their cardboard signs in front of the grocery store. Mediating and praying all day is great, but it won’t pay the candle bills at the monastery.
Then you have your Hindus. They worship cows and allow them to aimlessly wander the streets while children starve to death. I thought god made cows slow, defenseless and gullible so that we could catch them and turn them into barbecued steaks, ribs and burgers. I guess dinning at McDonalds is as bad for ones body as it is for ones soul….. They also have a god that looks like an elephant. How can you worship something that stars in the circus? A monkey looks more godlike than an elephant. At lease a monkey can roller skate and ride a bike. And, I definitly don’t understand the god Vishnu that has all those wild arms. Is that the god of multitasking? Maybe they could use a few of those gods in their industrial sweat shops instead of forcing children to work in such hell holes.
How about those Muslims. They’re the ones who invented the term “jihad”, which means “holy war”. That’s got to be the topper when it comes to oxymorons. These guys will cut your head off if you don’t follow there beliefs. Their punishment for stealing is to chop your hands off. I can only imagine what they’d chop off an adulterer. When it comes to women’s rights, these dudes make the Amish look like comminist liberals. Their version of women’s rights is quiet simple, wear a black sheet head to toe, don’t drive, don’t vote and don’t leave the house without your husband permission.
I don’t know much about Judaism other than they believe that they are the only chosen people. So basically, if you’re not one of them, you’re shit out of luck. I guess the rest of us are doomed second class citizens. There motto is this, “They’re two kinds of people, those who are Jewish and those that want to be”. I eat at a Jewish deli, will that help me get through the pearly gates?
New Age is all the rage these day. It’s one of those religions that let’s you be your own god. Being your own god is kind of like marrying a stripper, you know it’s going to lead to no good, but the temptation for self gratification is just to great. It pretty much boils down to this, if you believe hard enough you can manifest anything you want. It’s always the rich successful people who subscribe to this belief. They did it! So now why don’t all you lazy asses get off your loafing butts and do it! I guess you aren’t believing hard enough.This relieves the rich of their guilt for being rich, they earned it through their power of intention, universal reciprocity, affirmations—yada yada. Oprah loves new age speak and showcases these types on her program. These are the alturistic people who get rich writing books about this stuff—–prosperity and salvation in ten easy steps.For 29.99 we will sell you the secrets to the universe——-“Yeah right, and I got a key to the pearly gates I want to sell ya”.
People ought to get out of the god business and more into the treat others nicely business. Most the time kindness is the best choice, but occasionally I’ve required a kick in the ass, and there are those times too when I’ve needed to kick some ass. It’s all part of the process of getting from here to there.
Most times you can go over or around life’s obstacles, but sometimes you just have to go through them……And that’s when I’ve needed to call on my faith. At the moment when all hell it breaking lose, I tend to see no rhyme or reason to life’s seemingly random events. But once I become still and look back at the events that lead me to where I am, I can connect the dots and see the obvious presence of a guiding hand. Or, the negaitve results of not paying attention to the powers that be. Even though I poke fun at God, I must admit that he’s been very good to me. Although it would be nice if he could help get my novel featured on Oprah’s book of the month series, or at least send me some more blog followers. Now here I go again with that pesky pandering I mentioned in my Craigslist Advertisement.
I Still Have Faith—Fidem Servare
I’m to much of an optimist and idealist to be an atheist. There something going on here, but I just can’t figure out what it is—maybe that’s the way it’s suppose to be. For me, it doesn’t make any sense to be an atheist.
You see, I believe in a lot of things I can’t see or prove. For me, everything does happen for a reason, there are no mistakes and god will help those who help themselves…..Life without faith is like sex without a partner, just a fantasy you make up in your head to make you feel less desperate and alone———everyone has to believe in something and this is what I believe…..
I believe in science, mystic’s and magic, love at first sight, extraterrestrials, soul fakers and soul shakers, giving it your best shot, synchronism, getting what you deserve, compassion, reality hatched in dreams, doing good, evolution and its opposite, physics’, music, going down swinging, forgiveness, learning from your failures, honesty being the best policy, no guarantees, no warranties, you get what you pay for, gambling, bucking the odds, changing your mind, changing course, carpe diem, magnetism and its opposite, leaving no trace, making your mark, humor, hot coffee, cold beer, second chances, second looks, first glances, gut feelings, good vibes and its opposite, making things better, breaking a sweat, being still, first loves breaking naive hearts, getting better, getting on with it, letting it go and its opposite, moving on, moving past it, being sentimental, old photographs, good stories, funerals, weddings, divorces, family get togethers, faith, traditions, old movies, drives going nowhere, naps, nature, hikes, my dogs loyalty, earning your keep, buying what you can afford, carrying on in spite of everything, manners, gratitude, keeping promises and silent prayers.
It’s not a matter of if you’re gonna fight, cause we’ve all gotta fight——that’s the nature of choosing life. The question is, “How” and “why” are ya gonna fight. To survive requires that you engage in that universal struggle to express your purpose, your life force. To be aware that you are aware, is to be awake……..Without a purpose you are sleepwalking through your days. How do you express your purpose? What is your intention. How do you learn to “know that you know??
”He not busy being born, is busy dying” Bob Dylan
Knowing that you don’t know.
You Are Either “For” or “Against” Something
You can either fight “against” something or fight “for” something. It’s an almost imperceptible difference, but it makes all the difference in the world. It’s the difference between saying, “We’re gonna bomb our adversaries into choosing democracy” (fighting against something). Or saying, “We’re gonna live for and protect personal freedom and liberty” (fighting for something). When you’re fighting against something or someone, you are trying to affect change outside of yourself. When you’re fighting for something, you are fighting to affect change through self awareness and self discovery. If you choose to change yourself, you change your world. You must first learn to “know thy self” before you can have empathy for others. You cannot feel connected to others unless you feel connected to yourself—-so simple, yet complex.
In the short term, fighting against something may be the quickest way to achieve a temporarily victory, but in the long run, a lasting victory comes from fighting for something. Don’t demonize those that believe different than you, but rather champion your truth. Choosing to fighting “against” an advisory is like letting lose a flash flood, you will see immediate results but they’re temporary. When you are on the side of truth it’s like possessing the hidden strength of an eternal water drop. It will wash away mountains, turn deserts into oceans and carve the deepest of canyons. Truth is not connected to a timeline, it always has been and always will be. You must learn to flow with the cosmic current, not against it.
One coach may rally his team by saying “We’re gonna destroy those loser’s we’re gonna kill them”. While another coach may motivate his team by saying “We’re gonna win for our school, for ourselves, for the love of the game”. Fighting “against” something requires an emotional energy that’s impulsive and angry. Fighting “for” something requires an emotional energy that’s patience and compassionate. You will know the difference between the two energies by following the trail of emotions that proceeded your actions. Are you being selfish or selfless?
Operating Out Of Fear Or Love
We are all either running towards something or running away from something. It’s the difference between acting out of fear or actin out of love. Fear causes you to run away from what is different or new. Fear will cause you to fight “against” what you don’t understand. Fear says, “They are not like us”, “They are inferior”, “They are a threat to us”, “We must destroy them before they destroy us”. Fear is rigid, intolerant of diversity and egocentric.
Love will cause you to run towards something. Its a motivation that comes from a desire to better understand and learn from a new experience (to evolve and grow). This type of motivation transcends from a higher calling. The byproduct of love is compassion and a belief that we are all connected, that we are all here to help and serve one another, that we are more alike than different. Love is fluid, accepting of change and seeks understanding. Love is collaborative and inclusive, fear is competitive and exclusive.
Operating from a place of love requires courage, risk taking and an openness to new experiences. Conversely, fear manifest its self through ones insecurities, weaknesses, and narrow mindedness.
“Having To” Verses “Choosing To”
You see them on Monday mornings hanging out by the coffee machine in the break room. They’ll be wearing frowns and carrying on about how they wish they didn’t have to be there. They’ll be moaning about how they “have to” do this and “have to” do that. They see themselves as unfortunate victims of fate, mere pawns in the game of live. Well, I’ve got news for those mired in victimhood and “have to do-ness——–“You don’t have to do anything, zip, zero, nada”. You don’t even have to breathe, just put a plastic bag over your head and you’ll put a stop it all——the complaining, the self pity and the awful-izing. A “have to” mind set creates resistance and negativity, it robs you of personal power.
We all need to find a “why” (a purpose) for the things we do. If it’s a job that you don’t particularly enjoy, then you may find a “choose to” or a “why” by telling yourself that the job is putting a roof over your head and food on the table. Or, perhaps the earnings from the job is paying for your education and health care. Or, for now it’s helping you provide for the ones you love. The “why’s” in life are temporary and changeable. Use the discontentment for where you are currently, as fuel to energize you and move you towards your desired goals.
Once you let go of the“have to’s” you can come from a place of gratitude. Before moving forward and wanting more, its necessary to take a gratitude inventory of all the things the gifts you’ve already been given. This will empower you to take the skills and gifts you already possess and apply them to achieving higher aspirations. One percent of life is what happens to you, the other ninety nine percent of your life is how you respond to that one percent. What you “choose to do” with your life is totally up to you. To some this may be seem overwhelming and frightening, but it can also be liberating and empowering.
Figure out what you want to do and start working towards that goal. You may choose to go back to school, or apply for a more fulfilling job, or to leave a relationship that’s unhealthy. Don’t waste another day feeling defeated and controlled. You are the narrator and star of your story, you have the power to change the script when you change your attitude and thoughts.
Some may respond by saying—— “But that’s gonna take a lot of work on my part”, “I’ll have to take some uncomfortable risks”, “I’ll have to take personal responsibility for my life!” Note to self, “The hardest thing about changing your life, is changing your life.” And changing your life is something no one else can do for you, but you. Nothing is forever, not even your life. If you don’t like where you are, or what you’re doing, then do what football teams do at half time, make adjustments and changes to your game plan. Be creative and try new strategies for achieving your goals. Most importantly, be aware of your attitude and thoughts—–all life changes begin and end there.
Beliefs, Personal Verses Philosophical
We all have beliefs, but until we’re required to apply them at a personal level, they’re just words. We spout off about how we believe this is right and that is wrong. We blather with bravado about our political and religious judgments with little or no personal investment.
But god bats last and he’s always on the side of truth. And, just when you think you got the world figured out, god will throw you a curve. Example, so you believe a gay lifestyle is evil and homosexuality is a sin. Then one fine day, Bam!—— out of the blue your son or daughter discloses that they are gay and they desperately want your acceptance, support and love. Then what are ya gonna do with those self righteousness beliefs and judgments?
Or, maybe you’re a flag waving military hawk, always touting how we need boots on the ground to kick the asses of those un-American, non christian sons of a bitch’s. Like any good patriot, you encourage the young to march off to a foreign land and fight for god and country. You’re filled with a sense of pride as your son or daughter enlists in the military. But what will you do when you find out your child has been seriously wounded in some country that you never even heard of a couple years ago. What will you do when they return home with a traumatic brain injury or other serious wounds, or maybe they’re never coming home again.
Ten years later they’ll erect a solemn memorial with the names of the dead and wounded chiseled into its marble edifice. Historians will give the war a name, but no one will remember what we were fighting for. Your child ends up living in your extra bedroom because their physical and emotional wounds prevent them from being able to work. After all the medals are handed out, the uniforms mothballed and the flags neatly folded, then what do ya do with all your cherished political and religious beliefs? You don’t know, until you know.
Be mindful of your beliefs and judgments, because one day they may be be tested in reality. Remember this, gods cosmic sense of humor is fueled with irony.
Know that you know.
You may choose to go “Against” rather than “For” something. You may choose to act out of “Fear” rather than “Love”. In life you may feel that there are things you “Have To Do” verses what you “Choose To Do”. You may never have to test your beliefs with a personal investment. But, if you are placed in that position, know the “hows” and “whys” that you employ to construct your life.
Buddha was not a Buddhist. Jesus was not a Christian. Muhammad was not a Muslim. They were teachers who taught love. Love was their religion. Author unknown
Soundtrack, “Don’t Mess Around With Karma” by Brett Dennen.
Do you ever ask yourself, “Am I okay?” “Is everything okay?” “Is this the way things suppose to be?” I do, but I’m neurotic, I’m insecure and I live in a state of free floating anxiety. I get this feeling that I’m waiting on something or someone. For what? I don’t know. Could it be love, understanding, a second chance—lord knows I could use one of those. I wake up on a sunday and I feel lost. I hate Sundays’ anyway, they signal the end of another ephemeral week. Endings depress me, they remind me of funerals, break ups and another “day in the life” diminishing in my rearview mirror—- I’m lugubrious that way, and I’m sorry for my word choice, but there is no better word than that to describe my mood—-lugubrious….
I check my email, no messages. I check Facebook, no funny comments directed to me. I check my iPhone, no messages, no tweets, snapshots, no text, no voice message. I check my website, no hits, zip, nothing——nada. WTF is going on?——Oh no, I’m now one of those annoying people who communicate in acronyms. What’s next, a personalized license plate that cryptically declares “I ♥ mi Kat”.
People have way to much unproductive time on their hands. People don’t know how to make shit anymore. My mom use to have a Singer sewing machine and she made us clothes. Yeah clothes, pants, dresses, shirts—— the works. I can’t even sew a button on a dress shirt. It took her a long time to make a shirt, but every stitch, every button and every cut was done with her hands, tailored with love. Now, if that sounds corny, then go fuck yourself. This was back in the day, before you could go to your nearest Walmart and buy a shirt for $8.00. A shirt stitched together with the angst of an eight year old Kid in some suffocating sweat shop in a piss poor third world country. Mom grew her own garden and knew how to can fruits and vegetables. She had cast iron pots and pans and cooked bread, stews and soups from scratch. My dad had a tool kit and a tiny workshop. He could fix his car, fix the hot water heater, build a fence and do masonry. He could’ve build a fucking house if really wanted to. I have a hard time hanging a picture on the wall straight. My folks were living off the grid before it became some kind of trendy California “life style”.
They didn’t fill their days with mindless channel surfing, buying crap off QVC, web surfing; ears plugged into an iPod, eyes glued to an iPad or a computer screen. They did practical and valuable things with their time. When my mom was a young girl, she taught herself to play the piano. It’s amazing the stuff you can learn if you dedicate the time to it. They call them smart phones, but I say piss on that, the smarter the phone, the dumber the person.
I don’t get it. I walk the streets of my neighborhood these days and I don’t see a single kid outside playing. It’s a freaking beautiful day outside and I ask myself “Where’s all the kids?” They must be in their air-conditioned bedrooms playing video games, skyping or hacking into some top-secret government site. When I was a kid, our parents had to force us to come in for dinner. They’d have to holler for us to come in when it started to get dark. We didn’t need or want adults organizing our ballgames or telling us the fucking rules. We made up our own rules. We made up our own games and boundaries. We didn’t require uniforms or fancy gear or anything outside ourselves, we created our world from the inside out, we possessed magic——imagination.
These days I’m not so innocent and the world is no longer so simple. Beautiful girls parade by me covered in tattoos and piercings, gangs exploit the naïvety of the young seeking to belong, guns are carried to school like Twinky’s in lunch boxes, mass shootings are back page news, drugs are a refuge for the lost and on every street corner there’s a sad eyed homeless person with their tattered cardboard pleas. We’re bombarded with twenty-four-hour, seven days a week news, feeding us a steady diet of war, chaos and mayhem. Violence and death have become a form of amusement and entertainment. It’s no wonder that our Kids grow up so fast and so angry. I appreciate what Mark Twain said about the weather “Everyone talks about the weather, but no one does anything about it”. What Twain said about the weather, is how I feel about watching the news—-the world is going to hell and no one is doing anything about it—-but those Nelson ratings just keep on going up!
There’s a certain time in late morning when the light falls through my southern window and I can see all these tiny particles of dust floating in the air. I sit still on my old couch and watch them in amazement. Could these be miniature worlds and solar systems spinning about in my little house. Is my world just another speck of dust floating in some giants living-room. Maybe all my silly woes and worries don’t add up to nothing more than what exists on a fleck of dust. What’s reality?—What’s illusion? Who can say?
I showed up for the love, and I’m not waiting on it anymore….Ya got to give it, to get it—–Karma baby…..
I’d love to return home, but my vehicle was destroyed in the crash. I’ve been shipwrecked on this lame-ass planet ever sense. Let me get a beer and a chocolate bar and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned (and endured) while stranded here. I’m documenting this in a blog format, a means of communication designed to memorialize ones frivolous life events—-like posting a selfie of ones naked backside on Facebook. Just another way self promoting humans present their asinine shameless egos———or should I say ass-inine. They ought to rename Facebook to Assbook. All humor aside, I doubt this tale will neither be read nor believed. It will most likely be placed on the virtual floor to potty train a virtual puppy. So, with that said, let the shit show begin—
I was on my way to the Ramuloid system when I received what I thought was an emergency distress call. All I could hear was a broken-up transmission of someone screaming “Skipper, Skipper, Help, Help!” I had my computer operating system do a quick search of all prior available transmission records. I was alerted that the transmission was from a group of seven castaways marooned on a deserted outpost. On a rescue mission I entered your atmosphere and was blindsided by this piece of shit shack called a “Space Station”. That spacewalking astronaut would of went splat like a bug on my windshield if I hadn’t put my ship into an uncontrolled nose dive. This maneuver is what ultimately led to my shipwreck. The last thing I remember hearing from the transmission was the voice of the skipper saying, “Gilligan, you’re a nincompoop.” Shit!——Done in by a goddamn dimwitted sitcom playing in syndication. What kind of cockamamie creatures would find this crap entertaining? In horror, I realized that I’d entered an intellectual desert.
I swear, I can’t take another day with these moronic humans. They’re fucking nuts, not to mention arrogant and extremely violent. They possess a tiny un-evolved brain the size of a Argonian ass-nat. Its appears they’ve invested what little intelligence they possess into finding faster and more efficient ways of destroying their planet. They apparently lack the intelligence to comprehend that negative choices lead to negative consequences.
Until recently, these narcissistic a-holes believed that their run of the mill planet was at the center of the universe. Their inflated sense of grandeur would be amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic. They claim to be created in the image of their gods, but in reality, it is just the opposite. Their gods are created in their image. They’re vengeful, power hungry, angry, punishing, spiteful, mean-spirited and demand total obedience from all. The only reason they’ve evolved to dominate their planet is because they’ll eat, drink, inhale, smoke, inject and ingest anything—-especially if it makes them feel powerful and indestructible—I’ll spare you my assessment of their bizarre abuse of such poisons known as alcohol and drugs. They make their most prolific adversary, the cockroach, appear fragile and mild mannered.
These fuckers are constantly at war with one another, they just can’t get along. They’ll fight over anything; land, money, food, religion, race, nationality, pride, greed, power, glory and sometimes just to conquer who ever is within their proximity. The only thing they like more than fighting is fucking. They’ll fuck anything and everything. The pinnacle of their technology is this goofy thing called the “internet” and 80% of this device is used to watch other people fucking each other. All they know is fuck, fight and eat—that’s it, period.
The highlight of their space exploration program was a mere jaunt to their nearest moon. They soon grew bored of this as there was nothing out there for them to fuck, fight or eat. If there was gold or an enemy or something fuck-able in space, they’d of developed the technology to get them to Alpha Centauri and beyond.
The only thing more primitive than their communication devices is their limited methods of utilizing them. They text, talk, Skype and email one another insouciantly. They have selective listening skills and only hear what they want. They talk at one another (and about one another) incessantly, but have failed to learn the subtleties needed to master the art of communication. They have a proclivity to say mean and unkind things to one another and participate in the practices known as “gossiping” and “bullying”. The strong will gang up on the weak and tear them to shreds. They have a large selection of words in their languages, but they rely on a small number of foul four letter words to attempt to communicate their thoughts and emotions. I’ve even adopted their favorite word “fuck”. It can be used as an adjective, a verb or noun. It can mean anything, depending on how it is used and the voice inflection applied. I don’t fucking understand it, but it just feels fucking great to say fuck you. My communication translator device doesn’t even have a substitute term for the word “fuck”-–And that’s searching over three trillion other alien languages.
These humans like to believe that they mate for life, but they lack the commitment, honesty and integrity to stay true to this foolish principle. They are light years away from being evolved enough to appreciate the concept they call “love”. Their love depends on conditions, and the main condition is “what’s in it for me?”. Its a silly idea to only love one person when there are ten’s of thousands to love—just because you love one person doesn’t mean you can’t love many at the same time. They seem to believe that when you love another, you somehow own them outright; lock, stock and barrel—Their culture is controlling and procession oriented. They have a “yours verses mine” mindset.
They clan together in these things called gangs or armies. They have flags, uniforms, tattoos and slogans that help them differentiate the “us” from the “them”. They create maps with lines that specifies what space belongs to whom. They are very territorial and often times attempt to invade and control their neighbors space. One country went as far as to build a great stone wall to keep out foreigners. Some cross over into other peoples lands because they are seeking better life opportunities, they are called illegal aliens. It’s a society that lives by a divisive code of “us verses them”, “ours verses theirs”, “good verses bad” and “winner verses loser“. This creates a dichotomy that breeds aggression and selfishness. They’ll burn, bomb, shoot, mutilate, stab, hack to death, gas, poisson, behead, torture and exterminate anyone or anything they consider different or inferior to them. Sometimes they’ll kill so they can take what another possesses. Even their babies and children are not spared from these barbaric actions. They have perfected the art of killing and torture, and are extremely adept at creating a rational as to why these actions are necessary and honorable—it is a time cherrished tradition. In fact, they give medals and awards to those who excel at these endeavors. This competitive version of community is all they know—how uncivilized and sad. They will need to learn the art of collaboration and cooperation if they hope to evolve. Many spices never reach this critical step in the evolutionary process and they silently go extinct. Thank god the universe has a mechanism for cleansing itself and keeping all that “is” in balance——all is well, and all is as it should be——all that is, “is”.
These are the greediest of species I’ve ever studied. Even with their primitive technology, they have the capacity to provide food, shelter, water and medical care to all the beings on the planet, but they choose not to do so. Daily, thousands of their children needlessly die due to the lack of basic needs. It appears that these human creatures lack the capacity to openly express compassion and empathy. They have an odd aversion to sharing with one another. A very small potion of their population control the majority of the resources and currency. These ones are called the “haves”. The remaining majority are known as the “have-nots”. Without a financial incentive to redistribute the planets resources, the “haves” allow many to suffer and die. It appears that the “haves” require a means to profit from their charitable deeds. Without a way to make a profit, they refuse to make an effort to help those in need. I have never seen a specie so cruel to its own kind, it’s a disturbing thing to watch.
As a changeling, I’ve tried to provide some basic teachings on compassion and empathy, but my words have gone unheralded. I’ve appeared as a shaman and a holy man throughout the years. A few of my more recent incarnations included, John Lennon, Mother Teresa, Muddy Waters and George Carlon. The truth I’ve tried to disseminate is as simple as “All You Need Is Love”, but these humans fail to understand that words are empty if not supported by relative actions. The principle of “cause and effect” still seems to elude their basic understanding of the universe.
Their science remains in its infancy because they think in terms of “right verses wrong” rather than what “is”. They live under the illusion that by achieving an understanding of physics, that they will then possess the power to manipulate the universe for their own greedy needs and wants. They fail to understand that they are just a minuscule and insignificant flash within the enormity of eternity. They are blinded by their false sense of entitlement and specialness. This is as outrageous, as it is comical.
They are a wasteful and dirty specie. They are hell bent on destroying the only environment that will sustain them. They’ve fouled the oceans, streams, lakes, rivers, air, land and environment. They have managed to turn a once pristine garden into a toxic landfill. They mistreat and make suffer the other animals and living creatures that they have dominion over. Their early tribal ancestors were good stewards of the land and understood that they were just another piece in the greater whole that makes up a balanced community. But the violent greedy ones killed and conquered their wise elders. They ironically called these wise ones savages and subhuman. In a world of “winners verses Losers” things can easily get turned around. Their malleable history has been written by the so called “winners”.
My type of spicy does not require sleep. I stand alone outside most nights and stare up into the Milky Way Galaxy. It haunts me and reminds me that I don’t belong here.. I think of all the things I’d like to express. There are no words in their many earth languages to express my simple feelings. I am alone here except for my dog companion. Although we share no common language, we understand and accept each other completely. There is an unexplainable beauty in such simplicity.
In the 150,000 years that these humans have existed, there are but four things they’ve done of consequence. They invented chocolate, beer, ice cream and rock and roll music, all else is inconsequential.
What was once fiction is now science and what was once science in now fiction—-you may write this blog off as science-fiction, but the truth lies somewhere between the two. SOS*******
Soundtrack, These Days by Jackson Browne, go to “original post” press play and listen while reading—
Don’t ever let anyone tell you how to write poetry, not a teacher, not a book, a professor, a famous poet or some hip instructional manual touting “Poetry Made Easy”. Poetry is anything but easy, it’s floating to the surface in a bubble while praying that the pressure from the outside doesn’t become stronger than the pressure from within, it’s a tenuous balance——-in that stillness you’ll hear every creak and groan as you strain to hold yourself together….
There’s things deep down there that are bigger and wilder than you could ever possibly imagine. Its the stuff your conscious mind keeps chained and shackled and out of the reach of that prison we’ve come to accept as reality. There are frightening things down there—-bizarre things, sea monsters, demons, the eight armed Kracken reaching out for you, mountains of madness, deserts of despair, volcanoes spewing red rivers of woe. You may have convinced yourself that you’re in control, but mister let me tell ya, those reins are loose and easily snapped.
I dare ya to hold your breath and dive down into that murky deep. No one can stay down there for long—-some become entangled, confuse up with down—— they lose their way, they panic with eyes bulging, lungs bursting, blood streaming from ringing ears—- solitarily drowning in a sea of conceit. Down there you’ll come to know things that the faux world above could never teach you. But there’s a high price for trespassing into those depths——— “Enter at your own risk, Dangerous rip tides, No life guard on duty”.
Be advised: if ya poke around down there long enough you may bump into who you thought you were, maybe even a god or two—-and if you’r lucky, a kind familiar voice….These things that germinate in the dark are ironically impossible to see in the light—-it’s like the dark matter that comprises the majority of our universe—-these things are difficult to understand for simple creatures such as us, who are accustomed to composing reality from our puny five senses.
Some are contented to sit and stare at their reflection on the surface. But, if you’re a poet, then you need to take that perilous plunge. Leave behind your holy books, shots of whiskey, rosary, zen bells, mantras and slide rules, they have no power down here, in fact they’ll only camouflage your destiny.
Don’t let anyone tell you how to write poetry. Everyone has their own unique journey, you must find your own Dharma, your own Tao. The funny thing is—-as soon as you stop trying, it will flow through you——. Be still in that tiny bubble of yours, take the road less traveled, refuse to go gently into that dark night——find what you love and let it kill you, and burn, burn, burn, like a fabulous yellow roman candle that explodes like spiders across the stars———Pop*******
A belly laugh is better than an orgasm. I’m not talking about a giggle, a snicker, or a leisure guffaw—no I’m talking about a drop to your knees, fall on your back, tears streaming down your cheeks, face twisted into contortions, uncontrolled howling, floor pounding, rib splitting, muscle contracting hysteria. Although many of these physical gyrations are quiet similar to someone experiencing an orgasm, a belly laugh does not lead to accidental pregnancies, broken hearts or STD’s. If they could bottle the stuff, it would fly off the shelf like squirting flowers, exploding golf balls and handshake buzzers—–
What’s even better yet, is when you’re laughing so hard that you forget what you’re laughing about, and this causes you to laugh even harder about laughing at nothing. Or, how bout that little chortle that gets out of control at the most inappropriate time, such as a funeral, or a court appearance, or during an intimate moment. Unexpectedly, that innocent chuckle goes from being a suppressed snicker into a full blown crack up. Why fight it, go ahead and give into the pandemonium, it’s sure to break up the boredom. Come on, allow yourself to let go. Embrace the madness, the delirium and the ecstasy that comes with accepting the horror, humor and pointlessness of it all. Meaningless laughter is nirvana, its like watching god sit on a Whoopi cushion—-a holy Whoopi cushion—-ya-ought of seen the look on his face…
The joke is on you, it’s called life. It’s in the darkness, the light, the broken, the frozen, the holy men and hooligans, grifters, grafters, carnival barkers, bonkers, brokers, bankers, swindlers, smokers, jokers, jugglers and joggers (I was going for a little Dr Sues humor there, rim shot please!). Our only defense is to offer up a quick wit because funny is everywhere—that is, if you’re looking in the right places. To prove this point, I double dog dare ya to watch an episode of the Three Stooges, there’s just something hilarious about someone getting hit on the head with a hammer. Or, who could forget Jackie Gleason and the Honeymooners, “Bang zoom—-To the moon Alice”.
Humor is about letting go of control. It’s about going in for the kill, finding an opening and saying something everyone knows, but most are afraid to admit. Humor is based on stripping away all the crap we accept as normal and shining a light into the darkest corners of the psyche—this is where the clowns, jesters and harlequins live. Comedy comes to life when you drop all false pretenses and see things for what they are—-or for what they ain’t. Somewhere buried beneath our hidden flaws and secret doubts resides the absurdity of it all. Life is to short and uncertain to be glum and uptight. Jobs are stupid, sex is weird, marriage a joke, politics a circus, religion absurd, racism, sexism and biases make us out to be fools. We’re all just passing through—so I pray that in god’s good time all will be forgotten and forgiven—–in the meantime I choose laughter.
Life is a series of punchlines waiting to be delivered. It’s all about timing. Suddenly a door will open and you can drop that bomb that makes everyone see the insanity we are swimmin in e.g. What is the last thing a fish becomes aware of? Water. Remember this, if you have to explain a joke, then it’s not funny—if you have to justify your life, then you’re hanging around the wrong people—-”Laugh and world laughs with you, cry and”—-well you can see where I’m going with this line of reasoning. Find reasons to laugh—laugh at yourself—laugh at friends—laugh to keep from crying…..Open the door on that tiny clown car and watch all the funnyness come tumbling out.
Humor is life’s natural coping mechanism. It helps us through the loneliness, the fool heartedness and blatant futility of it all. Laughter levels the playing field, it reveals how we are all more alike than different, how we’re all fighting similar battles, fumbling towards love and companionship, bailing water from our sinking ships.
“Now, listen up ladies and germs.”
There’s many reasons to cross a road, but I’ll leave you with this one, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”
Please feel free to insert your own punch line here.
My answer—Because it’s funnier on the other side.Cluck Cluck—
Out here there’s a black and whiteness to it all. Slow gray clouds ponder their descension and final farewell to winter’s skies. They’ve come here to die, to rain down on the brownish sand and yellow sagebrush, because becoming a part of something new and different is the way of dyeing and rebirth. Being a part of everything, belonging to nothing—-I know how this feels. We don’t lose our way, we just move on to other things—a change in direction, a change in the relationship to other people, places and time. The sandstone cliffs look on with tired eyes, they conceal a millennium of wisdom stored in their souls. Even mute stones have souls that stir, and if you’d of taken the time to become aquatinted with them, you too might understand these most uncommon things.
Out here, is where I come to do my thinking, to be cut out of myself, to be torn up and pasted back together——and when the pieces no longer fit, it is then I know that I’m moving on, I am letting go of my cloud-ness. I never know what I may become out here, maybe a raven, a coyote or just alone—-With only myself watching myself, I have nothing here to hide….I can become whatever or whoever I choose—
To some I only exist in my relation to them. A brother, a father, a friend, a sinner—-a saint? And what am I to you? Being cast into your statue of stone is so limiting, so confining. These are the things I consider when I’m out here—-ya see, out here footprints turn into paw prints or vanish all together—-as if carried away on the wing of a hawk.
It’s going to be a long Friday, snowy and white, listening to my radio, drinking my coffee, carrying on conversations with myself, sharing stories with my Black Lab named Chase.
“Ya ever heard the one about the man who thought he could fly”—–And the dog said “No”.
I climb on his back as we take to the sky, letting the thermals carry us away….
Rants, Raves and Random Thoughts 