Tuesday, November 11, 2014

It's Not About You!

Rationalized behavior.  Sordid deeds. Tasteless tidbits of salted morality made palatable to your conscience,   your evil doings unguilted by a simple rationale.   "It wasn't about you!"
So your heart remains unscathed ....as your actions lash and scar those you have hurt. For your cause was greater than their injury...your ideal worth their pain...your selfish desire a fruit worth plucking from their tree,... when your branches are bare.
A convenient escape from the grip of conscience is to bolster the thought that "It's not about you!"......................when it should have been.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Hover

The forest through the trees.  Outside the box.  Finding the round peg for the round hole. Lifting the fog.  Gaining perspective. Getting rid of baggage. Smoke and mirrors. Little white lies. Manipulative bastards. Relentless beradings. Abusive psycopaths. Selfish motivations. Frivolous endeavors. Loveless relationships. Cultish beliefs. The eye of a hurricane.  Buying a used car. Donning darkened or rose-colored sunglasses....

 Hover.

Lift yourself...and hover, as if from above.  Stay there a while. Have a cup of coffee and remove those shades.
And then, re-immerse yourself with new understandings and perspectives. Your humanity requires it.  Your sanity depends on it.....

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Can Fate be Tempted?

Fate.   Your journey there a tightrope on a tangled web.  Adrift in swirling currents that lead to only one destination.  Predetermined for you,  you may see it coming ! Perhaps you will attempt to steer your vessel in another direction when the shores of your fate finally come into fair view.  Or might you sail victoriously towards your destiny?
    Fate.  It's existence clear,  but it's whereabouts unknown..   Is it lurking in the fog ...waiting to sneak up behind you and grab you in the darkness?  Murky waters created by your panicked strokes to the opposite shore?   Dim-lit features obscured by your own cursed fantasies?  
   But there it is.  Once you have found it,  it's existence not so mysterious.  It had been there all along! 
    Fate exists, but it's place is not always fixed.  And it is not alone.   It can be tempted...once recognized, if your imagination allows for it.  We may run and hide in an attempt to avoid capture.  We can choose our destiny at times exercising free-will.  We can create fates that are God-forsaken,   or that are awe-inspiring.   We can lure fate to us,  or cautiously avoid it until we find another.  We can choose at times to accept it.  And at times it will choose for us.  We may choose to tempt it with the ultimate lure of our frail existence.  It has a mind of it's own,  and a personality .....that exists  and flourishes only with the aid of our own imagination.  Tempt it if you must.  It's response is your own creation. 
   

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Robin Williams Suicide Note

none needed.   We are sorry for your pain.

Night falls
and no-one listens.
Why can't they hear the
screaming as
night falls?
Tell them to listen to the
night falling...
I blink my eyes and the
darkness stays with me, so I
squeeze them tightly and
imagine there is daylight.
Taking on the world
of a blind man to sheath
the reality of night...
No one hears the night falling.
But I have heard this sound
oh, most apalling
more often than the 'crack of dawn!
Why do they only hear the screaming
when they are asleep
and dreaming?
Tell them to listen
to the reality
of night falling...

Friday, August 8, 2014

The Humble Narcissist

This is new territory for me.  I am about to apologize.  This is not easy for me. But I know it's the right thing to do.   And I am always right.
I am sorry that I was born like this.  Superior. If I could wish it away...I would!  But dammit.....I was born better than most,  a burden I must bear for the better of my race.  Unable to be subjugated by my subjugates.  Their puny minds.  Miniscule and meaningless.    Cumbersome weight of their soul-less carcasses carried by me! 
I am about to apologize...because it's he right thing to do.   And I am always right.   I am sorry you were not born with the gifts I possess.  I have no empathy ... because I cannot ...and will not...comprehend your daftness.  I have shit on you because I am an ass in your view.   And that is what asses do. I am not without conscience you know.  I just have no need for one!  Wrong is something that I am incapable of doing.
I am about to apologize, and it's not even my fault!   Please accept my place here.  It is your place to shine my shoes,  and it is my place to scrape the gum off of them, I guess.   I am sorry for your contempt.  As I live the dream....you are probably daydreaming while staring into a mop bucket and an empty 'fridge.  It is not easy being me.   I am sorry you don't understand.
There!  I've done it! Apologized.   It was easier than I thought it would be. I knew I could do it!   I am ......The Humble Narcissist....

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Paradox of Time. (author unknown)

The paradox of time in history:
We have taller buildings but shorter tempers
Wider freeways but narrower viewpoints
We spend more but have less, we have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences but less time.
We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge but less judgement, more experts but more problems, more medicine but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get angry too quickly, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions but reduced our values. We talk too much, listen too little, love too seldom and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living but not a life.
We've added years to our life but not life to our years.
We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor. We have conquered outer space but not inner peace.
We have done larger things but not better things
We have cleaned up the air but polluted the soul.
We have split the atom but not our prejudice. We write more but learn less.
We have learned to rush but hate to wait. We have higher incomes but lower morals.
We have more food but less appeasement. We build more computers to hold more information to produce more copies than ever, but have less communication.
We have become long on quantity but short on quality...
These are the Times of fast food and slow digestion, taller men and short character, steep profits and shallow relationships.
These are the times of world peace but domestic abuse, more leisure but less fun, more food but less nutrition.
These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, of  fancier houses but broken homes.
These are the days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throw away morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer you up to putting you to sleep.
It is a time when there is much in the show window and nothing in the stock room.
A time when technology can bring you a letter and a time when you can choose to either just hit delete or to make a difference and get involved.
We can all choose to get bitter or we can choose to get better.
Let's all look out from the darkness and see the light....
(Unknown,circa 1999)

Monday, July 21, 2014

What Really Happened?

It has been said that history is written by the winners.  And rewritten ...by politicians and biased motivations.  Did you ever wonder what really happened?   Have you any desire to validate versions of it presented to you through indoctrination?  Reveal truths previously unknown  by attempting to understand the perspectives of the minority, or of the loser?
It is time you rewrite history.  You can even write the carbon-copy of your indoctrination. But write it yourself, with knowledge gleaned from the underdogs. Truth and righteousness does not always win....Though everybody loves a winner...you just may be loving Satan himself....

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Just in case you found your neighbor's mail in your mailbox this mornin'......

Just in case you found your neighbor's mail in your mailbox this morning'....

I absolutely love the post office, it's hard working dedicated staff, economical prices, efficient processing and fast delivery service. Friendly mailman is missing a few teeth, but always lends an ear to my life's problems. He only laughed with hardly any cursing when he stepped on a land mine in my front yard. ( pile of doggy -do-doo) . Although 750 people have asked him about the weather today, he still somehow comes up with a witty reply and beams that endearing toothless smile.!  :-)  " You can keep the bills!". , I tell him. ....and he laughs like he's never heard that one before! "Checks, I only want checks!"....and he laughs again, joking that "he will take care of the gift cards!". Ahahahaha...he is such a joker! Gotta love 'im! !! Every once in a while, he will personally sponsor a neighborhood "meet-and-greet", by purposely delivering the whole block's mail to one box. A little minion of President Obama, practicing his community organizer skills. His bosses must treat him really well, because it is reflected in the way he treats his customers. Cudo's to whoever is at the top of this priceless organization.!! We used to kid around that it was run by the mob! But no mob boss could keep'em smiling' like our happy, happy, dear toothless ever helpful, wonderful mailman! I absolutely love the mail service, and just know it will be around for an eternity. That's why they made those "Forever" stamps , after all! When I reach the Pearly Gates, or the Fiery Pit....I just know there will be a package waiting for me there delivered by the United States Postal Service!!! And inside...inside will be some white-feathered wings, ...or a shovel and some well sharpened tines!    Even if I don't know the zip code!   Thank you...thank you...thank you U.S.P.S.!!!     

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Fighting your Nature

Have you fought a lifetime's battle in attempt to change...what is innately YOU! There are aspects of your character that...even though you have challenged in an attempt to morph...or bury...or kill,    remain who you are. It's image blurred,  comes clear again from time to time, re-emerging or re-inventing itself ,  your efforts shown futile. There are aspects of your character you simply will never be rid of...

Speak Now, or Forever Hold Your Peace.....(by David Rakoff)

David Rakoff
Nathan at one of the outlying tables, his feet tangled up in the disc jockey's cables, surveyed the room as unseen as a ghost, while he mulled over what he might say for his toast. That the couple had asked him for this benediction seemed at odds with them parking him here by the kitchen. That he'd shown up at all was still a surprise. And not just to him, it was there in the eyes of the guests who had seen a mirage and drew near, and then covered their shock with a, "Nathan, you're here." And then, silence. They had nothing to say beyond that. A few of the braver souls lingered to chat. They all knew it was neither a secret nor a mystery that he and the couple had quite an odd history.

Their bonds were a tangle of friendship and sex. Josh, his best pal once, and Patty, his ex.

For a while he could barely go out in the city without being a punchline or object of pity. Poor Nathan had virtually become his new name, and so he showed up just to show he was game. Though his invite was late, a forgotten addendum. For Nate there could be no more clear referendum that he need but endure through this evening. And then, he would likely not see Josh and Patty again.

Josh's sister was speaking, a princess in peach. Nathan dug in his pocket to study his speech. He had poured over Bartlett's for couplets to filch. He'd stayed up until 3:00, still came up with zilch.

Except for instructions he'd underscored twice. Just two words in length, and those words were, be nice. Too often he thought our emotions betray us and reason departs once were up on the dais. He'd witnessed uncomfortable moments where others had lost their way quickly, where sisters and brothers had gotten too prickly, and peppered their babbling with stories of benders or lesbian dabbling, or spot on impressions of mothers-in-law Which true, Nathan thought, always garnered guffaws. But the price seemed too high, with the laugh seldom cloaking. Hostility masquerading as joking.

No, he'd swallow his rage and he'd bank all his fire. He knew that in his case the bar was set higher. Folks were just waiting for him to erupt. They'd be hungry for blood even though they had supped. They'd want tears, or some other unsightly reaction, and Nathan would not give them that satisfaction. Though Patty a harlot and Josh was a lout, at least Nathan knew what he'd not talk about.

I won't wish them divorce, that they wither and sicken, or tonight that they choke on their salmon or chicken. I won't mention that time when the cottage lost power in that storm on the Cape and they left for an hour. And they thought it was just the cleverest ruse to pretend it took that long to switch out the fuse. Or that time Josh advised me with so much insistence that I should grant Patty a little more distance. That the worst I could do was to hamper and crowd her. That if Patty felt stifled she'd just take a powder. That a plant needs its space just as much as its water.

And I shouldn't give Patty that ring that I'd bought her. Which in retrospect, only elicits a, gosh, I hardly deserved a friend like you, Josh.

No, I won't spill those beans, or make myself foolish, to satisfy appetites venal and ghoulish. I will not be the blot on this hellish affair. And with that, Nathan pushed out and rose from his chair. And just by the tapping of knife against crystal, all eyes turned his way, like he'd fired off a pistol.

Joshua, Patricia, dear family and friends, a few words, if you will, before everything ends.

You've promised to honor, to love and obey. We've quaffed our champagne and been cleansed by sorbet, all in endorsement of your hers-and-his-dom. So now let me add my two cents' worth of wisdom.

I was racking my brain sitting here at this table until I remembered this suitable fable that gets at a truth, though it may well distort us. So here with the tale of the scorpion and tortoise.

The scorpion was hamstrung, his tail all aquiver, just how would he manage to get cross the river? The water's so deep, he observed with a sigh, which pricked at the ears of the tortoise nearby.

Well, why don't you swim, asked the slow-moving fellow. Unless you're afraid, I mean, what are you, yellow?

It isn't a matter of fear or of whim, said the scorpion, but that I don't know how to swim.

Ah, forgive me, I didn't mean to be glib when I said that. I figured you were an amphibian.

No offense taken, the scorpion replied. But how bout you help me to reach the far side? You swim like a dream and you have what I lack. Let's say you take me across on your back.

I'm really not sure that's the best thing to do, said the tortoise, now that I see that it's you. You've a less than ideal reputation preceding. There's talk of your victims all poisoned and bleeding. You're the scorpion, and how can I say this, but well, I just don't feel safe with you riding my shell.

The scorpion replied, what would killing you prove? We'd both drown. So tell me, how would that behoove me to basically die at my very own hand, when all I desire is to be on dry land?

The tortoise considered the scorpion's defense. When he gave it some thought, it made perfect sense. The niggling voice in his mind he ignored, and he swam to the bank and called out, climb aboard.

But just a few moments from when they set sail, the scorpion lashed out with his venomous tail. The tortoise, too late, understood that he'd blundered when he felt his flesh stabbed and his carapace sundered. As he fought for his life he said, tell me why you have done this for now we will surely both die?

I don't know, cried the scorpion. You never should trust a creature like me because poison I must. I'd claim some remorse or at least some compunction, but I just can't help it, my form is my function. You thought I'd behave like my cousin the crab, but unlike him it is but my nature to stab.

The tortoise expired with one final quiver, and then both of them sank, swallowed up by the river.

The tortoise was wrong to ignore all his doubts, because in the end, friends, our natures will out.

Nathan paused, cleared his throat, took a sip of his drink. He needed these extra few seconds to think. The room had gone frosty, the tension was growing. Folks wondered precisely where Nathan was going. The prospects of skirting fiasco seemed dim, but what he said next surprised even him.

So what can we learn from their watery ends? Is there some lesson on how to be friends? I think what it means is that central to living, a life that is good is a life that's forgiving. We're creatures of contact. Regardless of whether we kiss or we wound, still we must come together.

Though it may spell destruction, we still ask for more, since it beats staying dry, but so lonely on shore. So we make ourselves open, while knowing full well it's essentially saying, please, come pierce my shell.

Silence doesn't paint the depth of quiet in that room. There was no clinking stemware toasting to the bride or groom. You could have heard a petal as it landed on the floor. And in that stillness Nathan turned and walked right out the door.

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Live Forever!!

      Perhaps the greatest tool in the hands of social constructionists is their manipulation of your fear.  Most people fear the unknown.     What is the ultimate unknown , and so the ultimate fear?   Death.
       But have no fear. You can live forever!!    It isn't free.   You must die a little on the inside,  and accept the imprisonment of your soul....as you sell it to keep your body alive. What will you take from others....What will you sacrifice within yourself ...to keep your body alive as your soul slowly withers?
     " It is better to die the death of a hero than to live the life of a coward"....---Charles Woods,  father of Tyrone Woods,  Navy SEAL killed in Libya terrorist attack...in a letter to President Obama.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Hope's Clutches

     We are not bad people. We are not lazy and unthinking. We care. We like to live and love. We like to help.  We like to dream.  Immobilized by some undiscovered flaw in the grand experiment that is our Constitution....our ability to dream has become stifled and our persuit of happiness caught up in a convoluted quagmire .  So we hold on to hope. The situation seems out of our control, and without hope, it seems the only alternative is hopelessness. In truth , we have chosen predictability....security....over the potential chaos and insecurity that comes with a soul set free.  Maybe..just maybe...if I curl up in a little ball and hope enough...and pray enough, I'll never have to leave my comfort zone to effect change.  Beware  the shackling nature of hope. It may trap you in a dreamstate of complacency.
      It's time to let go of these things that hold you. It's time to leave the things that keep you here. Help yourself end...the struggle that gets you nowhere.  This security of hope, will end in despair!  Daylight comes , and you close your eyes...and dream of night forthcoming. And when night comes...you dream again!   Precious hope is just a dream that gives you immortality..This hope that only muffles screams....screams that are reality.   Feel your fingers slipping from the clutches of HOPE.  What happens when you lose it?
        Time passes while you wonder. Time stands still while you wait.  It's time to let go of the things that keep you here.....to'leave the security of hope....

The Climax

      You will be offered a final choice....your soul freed to make it.  You will choose action, or concession.   Have you conceded to the oppression?   There are many who have already.  Still as many who have not.  But so many have willfully traded the ideal of freedom, before ever having tasted it.  Pass them  the gruel and the clouded water scooped from the swales..outside their own prison walls. For them,  a belly full replaces a soul empty. Keep me half alive until my dying day.  I want to learn to savor the taste of gruel and deny the stench of  the clouded water that sustains me.  Imprison me, if you must......but keep me alive!   Freedom is not what I desire,   and I fear it.   Keep me from the fear...the fire..the combustibility...the chaos...  . Feed them the soylent green of my soul and beg them to sustain  my bag of bones.  Passion's blood coursing might rupture my veins .  Quiet my sinful soul, and slow the heart that feeds it.  It is not freedom I desire,  except freedom from it's curse!  Let me walk among the living dead . Take my soul but sustain my body.  Extinguish the flames within me and let me walk amongst the sheep.

Saturday, February 15, 2014

What I Win??

       http://m.youtube.com/?rdm=4phc78g9w&reload=2#/watch?desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DaUQkbXWwJhQ&v=aUQkbXWwJhQ&gl=US     



                                               [click on the link above]
With each new law comes a new resriction on your liberty. The carnies are leading this three-ring circus ....local...state...and federal governments!
       The prize is your freedom.    Will you settle for a box of chicklets!?

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Aftermath

     Organizing the chaos.  That is the burden wrought by establishing governments. Attempting to reign in processes of thought as whimsically as grasping hot air.  Arrogantly designing a system of dams and levies in a desire to direct the insanity which is the ebb and flow of the human mind and the human condition. When the dams fail, ...and the levies break,.....what will be left in the aftermath?
     The cursed chaos will resume, and it's insanity will cause no less harm than the governments attempts to organize it.  No doubt, when the floodwaters break....fear will have you feverishly filling sandbags to stop them.   But they have been held back for too long.
    When the water settles, ......who will be left in the aftermath?   Those who were left holding empty bags for sand, ...or those that took to higher ground?......

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Pre-Occupied: Occupy Wall Street?

  
  I am the 99 percent. I have been sold the American dream that has become a mirage.  My life has been pirated , and it's booty re-distributed. I work for unknown reasons to fund unkown causes in unknown lands. I pay with my working life in indentured servitude to "the system".  I am a slave.  I cannot choose true freedom, lest I be jailed, ostracized , or portrayed a leech. I pay for my illusion of freedom with my working life.
      I don't have time to "occupy" Wall Street, Main Street, or any street because I am hard at work paying income taxes, sales taxes, property taxes, required insurance taxes, and hoards of hidden taxes including , social security taxes, medicare taxes, electricity taxes,   gas taxes, utility taxes  resort taxes, convenience taxes, FCC land and cell phone surcharge taxes,   finely printed obscured   taxes that are re-labeled as "fees".   If I want to access "the system", I must pay with my life.    In order to be free, ....I must be a slave to this society.
      I am "pre-occupied".... and cannot make it to Wall Street. I am the 99%  who bought into the dream only to be sold down the river.   A subtle oppression.
   "...until the next revolution"   -elrok-

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Choosing Sides


You will sometimes be told this cliche'd phrase by the "enlightened".....who would like to help you open your mind.....and understand that there are "two sides to every story"....( or argument. ).    Thank you,  you shining beacon of truth!   There was only darkened and dunned prejudice before you made me see the light.  Your incandescence has set aglow the darkened corridors of my mind, where once only shadowy beasts were able to hide amongst the cobwebs .....hiding golden nuggets of truths I have never seen before!  Thank you,  enlightened souls,   whoever you might be.....for your innate omniscient knowledge of my unknown perspectives!  With wings.....I will soar......with eagles eyes on all beneath me that was once obscured!  (Perspective pries your once weighty eyes and gives...you...wings!.). (INCUBUS, " Nice to Know You")

Beware!  Of this cursed enlightenment!  Many times ....these well informed and self-proclaimed open-minded individuals,   have heard two sides....FROM THE SAME PERSON! (or source) .   Is that really hearing two sides?
Herein lies one of the greatest examples of why you must STRIVE...to be a free-thinker.  Examine your sources,  and your own bias and prejudice. Discover the wealth of information and truth that can only be found in the blank spaces...between the lines. Be skeptical of your own tendencies toward propaganda and indoctrination.   Trusted friends who see both sides,  may have only one source for their knowledge.   Perhaps a biased source....
Think of the times when you have accepted that there are "two sides to every argument",   and have gathered your knowledge from only one ...biased...source. Though you feel an omnipotence.....you may be wallowing in spoon-fed ignorance.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The State of the Onion

Once again, the state of the onion is bringing me to tears. No matter how I slice it.  It is a "strong" onion!   Not a vidalia, but an obama  onion.  Inarguably rankerous. I would like to know just exactly who to thank for the state of this onion.  If it was a vidalia onion,  then the state of the onion would be Georgia, and I could probably thank Jimmy Carter. But since it is an obama  onion, I am not sure of what state to thank. Is Kenya a state?  I would like to find out the truth about this onion's state!  Someone ....just tonight...was trying to give me their opinion on this onion's state.  But this is my onion,  and I think I will form my own opinion .  From here, it stinks.  This guy is all he way up in Washington D.C...and he keeps telling me that my onion doesn't stink.  Hey dude, I think I am a little closer to this onion than you are. I think it might be just a little bit difficult to truly understand the state of my onion from way up there.  I'm telling you....it really stinks. 

Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Miracle of Death

Death is a miracle.  Though not often thought of in that way, it is as much a miracle as birth.  Most think of death as the end.....and birth as the beginning. Birth is spirit embodied, death ...spirit freed.   The spirit had been there all along.
Examine the MIRACLE.....of Death!    Marvel it's wonder.
It is something that you can't live without....

Unseen

There are things that
          gently rave the placid plains
of Egypt
Never noticed
   Steadily
      They work.
        They wander
There are times and places
             steadily making their mold
  on us
Often rising
    Leaving
       Many things
               To ponder.
These things that gently rave the placid
                   plains of Egypt
These things that slowly mold
             our lives and our souls....