Last

This will be my last post on this blog. I may or may not start another one at some unknown time in some unknown future. There are many things I didn’t post on; sex, drugs, rock and roll, the church, everyday happenings. But thats not important, in fact not too much of anything is too terribly important. What is important is Life. People forget to live sometimes, they get involved with everyday and forget to look up, look around and… fucking smile just to smile, laugh because the world is there running in its little gerbil ball around the sun and we’re along for the ride or cry or just stand there and feel your heart beat. I’m talking about being alive not just living, people all over just live, its boring and it kills. There is a quote that floats around, says “live life to its fullest” we forget the important part of that sentence ‘live life’! “Be here now” “Live in the moment”, once again the beginning of those sentences is the important part ‘Be’, ‘Live’. People need to pull their head out of their collective asses and smell the fucking roses! I guess my last post is to be a rant and not a very good one at that. Life is all we have on this earth, its Gods gift that we, of all the animals, can recognise it and enjoy it, sadly we can also destroy it or worse forget about it.

There was a man standing there with a far and distant stare I asked him what he was looking at at and he said shhhh so I took a silent step back, in time he bowed to the horrizon turned and walked away, I smiled, I didn’t expect to see God today.

And so ends this wonderful experiment/experience thank you for your patients.

music memories

You know when you hear a song it brings back memories? Memories of a time or place or of a person, well what else are memories made of… To the point then. When I hear Eric Clapton my father springs almost instantaneously to mind. Memories of hearing that music in his workshop or just around the house. I remember the smell of potatoes cooking in a small kitchen, myself and my sister are running around doing who knows what. I remember 50 watt lighting and the shades drawn. In my mind its always just before dinner and we’re making the last preparations before eating; my sis and I are setting the table, I’m still grumbling about having to peel the potatoes again and my father is finishing up at the stove. Music is an amazing conduit for emotion-memory. A certain sound will remind you of a feeling and a person attached to it, it makes you angry or sad, makes you happy or nostalgic; some music is just air, stuff that has no attached emotion, no point of reference no shared experience between you and the writer, just blah. I get a lot of my musical tastes from growing up, what my friends listened to, what my folks listened to… Music has to have a feeling, it can’t just be empty time fillers.
so in conclusion fuck elevator music and thanks pops.

I Cant remember… at the moment

There is a memory I have, I can’t recall at the moment, but I’m not entirely sure it’s mine. I was replaying it in my mind a while ago and while I was I thought to myself, ‘what is this? It can’t be mine, I don’t remember that.’ It was very vivid, even if I can’t recall it now, maybe latter. It comes to me at random times, I’ll be sitting there and this memory will assault me, just not now. No memory ever comes on demand it seems, they have their own agenda. It’s like trying to catch motes of light reflecting dust. Memories… They just float like bits of brightly colored flotsam and jetsam; they sway-seesaw to the ground like autum leaves. Beautifully Uncatchable.

life’s story, or “it’s karma.”

Life is our own story. More often then not we write our own way, our own end, with the things we say, the things we do and the way we play. Naughty or nice, mean or fair, your actions, your future. Karma is real and will circle back; what was yours to give will be given again. You just might be on the receiving end. Don’t think that you can get away by just living or being a good boy day after day. Your life is written by your thoughts as well, they are loud and we can hear them I’m ashamed to tell. That deep overflowing aquifer that is your soul wells up and spits up your thoughtactions. What you think you may as well do, it is after all the real you. Striped of all masks and makeup, no masquerade or magic, no hiding behind the curtain of false smiles and empty promises; what matters, the real you, is whats in the heart, that mask does not fool. The universe sees true intent and will not let you get away with it. Black your heart, then black you life. You are what you are, what you choose to be and in the end what you face will be you, what you are, what you were. There is an accounting taking place and even if you are behind a mask, God can still see your face.

a thought on words

I really don’t have anything to say today, nothing profound or unheard of, nothing new or original. All I have is a desire to write and change, by way of speech and words, the status qou, the way things are. Words are the most powerful things in the world, they sway the minds of leaders and the led, they shape constitutions and plan military coups. Without words there would be no songs, no poems, no stories to inspire. Without words this would be a lifeless planet with no beauty, a mean petty world with no love and no mercy. Words are life to the spirit, the soul, the heart. They can tear down or build up, rebuild a broken ego or amour an existing one. Used properly they bring peace and a sense of rightness, improperly they bring strife and anger, then again these are just ways to use speech and words, not rightly or wrongly. Words are the cornerstone by which we live, by which we express our beliefs and ideas, without them we would be a billion islands lost in the sea of humanity.

staring into space

Unfocused and Unbound, staring, not seeing. There is a distant space that grabs at my attention, pulling my sight towards it; through my Eyes my Soul flows. Out, flying Out to meet my vision’s gravity, pulled out of Here and Now drawn to invisibility. My Eyes are magnetisized. Seeing, traveling so far out that I return through the back of my head. Always it is quicker to retrace the light years than pass through my mind. Inside is more distance than all of Outerspace, Innerspace is far more of a vacuum. So much empty area; floating, gently colliding and rebounding. A dark maze with but one end, down the rabbit hole to the fields by the river Illeism to the mountains against the stars, the land of frost and forest to the tip top where the still lake is a silent mirror. Up here there is no wind, up here the only sound is the sound you bring with you. Shout and the lake shatters the stars and you fall up to meet the broken pieces of the sky to fall back again to a plain surrounded by cliff walls. You awake to where you were all along, the Here and Now, only you have been absent, on a journey light years away to the edge of the universe where it bends back on itself and you ended up lost in your own mind and only just now retraced your steps.