Something

I feel as if I have nothing meaningful to write at the moment. Furthermore, this block has plagued me for some time… I’m off center. For several months the kilter of my world has had a 45° axis that twists and turns of its own accord. Unfortunately, I have had a hell of a time trying to re-center myself. But, to my chagrin I have failed miserably. I want to live in a cave for a month. I want the isolation of a sleeping city. I want the blackness of a wheat field at midnight. Somehow, I need to drag myself up from this sludgy pit of self-pity and find the humanity in people again. There are always glimmers of hope, like my parents or the closest of friends. However, these people are semi distant from my life and I miss them all terribly. I have been slowly sliding into my old addictions and vices. How can I save myself from this segregation that I so utterly crave? What the hell am I supposed to do by myself? Why are the machines eating away at me so? In some way I must find a way to return them from their steely shells, rebirthing them to flesh. Hence, I can try to save them while at the same time saving myself.

Maybe I will be able to write again? I do so miss writing…

Forgive me.

Abstraction Pt. 6

MAKE OF IT WHAT YOU WILL

This is for you and you alone. Whoever you are, you are allowed to read this and make your own assumptions and explorations. This passage may lead you into a deep internal dispute, perhaps it will simply spark a bit of fantasy or maybe a neutral reaction. Fire and lightning, calm springs eternal, vengeance, forgiveness, passiveness. What is written here for you may determine the rest of your life... Perhaps not. After all, less and more confusing words have started wars or proposed marriage. Words written here, or there, all are subjective. Only you can decide what meaning they have.

When an authour sends out words he/she gives them up. The words may have meant something initially to the author. However, upon sending them into the world, that initial meaning becomes meaningless. Each person who takes in the words will create new meaning, along with each person after that and subsequently after that. Words written will endlessly evolve, devolve, mutate and transform. Infinite permutations of perspective and meaning will encompass a single passage like a warm blanket.

Thus, this brief interlude may change your life, like it did mine when I thought about it years ago. However, you may just smile and shrug it off. The meaning I had for these words no longer matters in the grand scale of life. Perhaps, these words will make a difference for you, or someone else.

Words are vulnerable to interpretation. No one word will mean the same to you as it does to me.

Take these words and do with them as you will.

Enjoy them.

Hate them.

Love them.

Remember them.

Forget them.

Reconstruct them.

Deny or reject them.

Share them.

Keep them.

I have no control over them anymore. They belong to you and you alone.

Walking everywhere
down to hell, up to heaven
such simplicity

~

Legs, like the rest of the human body, are taken for granted...

Does anyone truly know the meaning of the writings of others?









Does anyone truly know the meaning of their own writings?

Abstraction Pt. 5

Walking into a room full of puppies. They muzzle into ones legs and nip toenails. The puppies grow into beautiful white sheep, strong willed yet they follow a wolf. Over time the wolf takes each sheep aside. He asks each sheep, “Do you have the will to be a wolf”? Most sheep ponder the question for a mere second, saying “no” in the end. However, there may be the odd sheep that takes the time to think about it, they may say, “yes”.

In these rare instances the wolf will take another sheep from the herd, kill it and feed the odd sheep a mutton feast. If the sheep is willing to cannibalize its brethren it is given the privilege of becoming a wolf.


There are also black sheep, rarer than any sheep converted to wolfdom. These sheep are given the same opportunity and treatment by the wolves as all the others. However, when they are asked if they have the will of the wolf, the black sheep rear up and stomp down the wolf. They butt and kick until they slay said wolf. The black sheep then surpass the confines of hierarchy. They become a being unto themselves. While they are still dependant of others, they choose not to follow. Black sheep understand the meaning of life and love and they attempt to slay wolves in order to protect the white herds.

To slay may not be to kill.
To love is to love unconditionally.

Rebellion and Youth

To what end is rebellion necessary in youth? When youth is such an important period of life. One’s youth is a rapidly passing time when a body grows and is spiritually nurtured. Yet, many strive to destroy the beauty, which is developing. Drifting back and forth between self-abuse in mind and body. Drinking, pornography, sexuality, violence… etc. Are the many factors presented in youthful rebellion acceptable? Not always. Are they required to enter into adulthood? No. Are they the only forms of rebellion? No. One may be rebellious in a different way, going against the grain of what they are taught.

There are many forms of rebellion. To a degree they may be necessary in youth, though they may not be safe. To what end does such rebelliousness develop us as people? Does it develop us at all? Or in the case of abuse, is it just a way to escape from what things we love and what things we hate?

....

I saw a homeless man sitting in the snow by the river today. It happened so fast, I was riding the train and just as it went over a bridge I saw him, just for a glimpse. He had a long beard, he may have been rocking back and forth in a chill. He was shrouded and hidden in a forest of willow. The water underneath him frozen. There might have been someone he was talking to, but I didn't see. The glimpse passed so quickly.

A thought and fire

-A thought

Understand that there is good and bad. What is good is right and what is bad is wrong (Marcus Aurelius). In this sense you must not muddle with a space in between, there is no grey area. Ones actions in life reflect his persona in a moment, good or bad. Thus, your actions are a constant reveal of the struggle you face everyday. However they will not determine you spiritually, unless you let them.

-Fire

Fire is a destructive force that in nature serves a cleansing purpose; for example, the eradication of pine beetles or elimination of decay. It is the fault of humanity that people are burned alive.

4b5tr4ct10n part 3

Dear user, please do not be alarmed as we separate your body from your nervous system. Momentarily you will entered into a program control matrix where you will experience the pleasant smell of toast with cooking eggs and bacon. This sense has been chosen in effort to make you feel comfortable. Iffffff you do not enjoy the smell of a comforting breakfast than you have only to think and the program will accommodate any sense you desire. The experience will last for about 2 minutes while your body is prepared for cremation at which time your memories will be transferred into a collective consciousness. Your personality will be lost. There will be no more need for sustenance or subsistence. YouYOuyouYUoyou will no longer require emotion. Enjoy your enlightenment and have a pleasant emulsion.

Disappear

To disappear isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Individuals need there own time to meditate and contemplate life to its fullest. There’s nothing wrong with watching a TV show you like, playing a video game for a half hour or a taking in a movie you love. However, it is when we cross a boundary into the realm of addiction and numbing that “me time” goes too far. There’s a line where one passes from enjoyment to disconnection.

Sometimes a person needs to just sit and do nothing. Sometimes a person needs to realize that doing nothing isn’t bad. Sometimes a person needs to realize that sitting on their computer or indulging in video games isn’t doing nothing.

There is a realm of addiction where people enter to free themselves from the daily world. When someone shoots crack, or plays a video game for the better part of the day… All humans try to disconnect in someway. All the magic is being stolen away, sucked into little black holes of our own creation.

Doing nothing, in order to clear your head, or in order to fill it. To disappear into ones own mind. To think. To mediate. To meditate. To contemplate. To convert. To need. To love. To live. To hurt. To heal. To cry. To try. To realize.

To breathe…

To breathe in life anew, free of the shackles of boredom and the id. Infinite patience isn’t achievable by a human standard; but humans can learn to accept silence, darkness or emptiness with joy. One may go and wander a park, sit on a bench, listen and meditate the bird’s songs. Heed a child cooing. Ponder the sound of traffic. Excite at the sound of rustling leaves. Close one’s eyes and enjoy the dark.

Disappear into the oblivion that is the world. Embrace it, and become it. Realize that you are alone. Realize that you are never alone. Embrace existence, both in your world and the real world.

Don’t worry though, everyone makes mistakes.

Badlands

Blue skies, burn down on scorched bentonite.

Black lines painted on the sides of mountains from past fires.

Red shale slides underneath weary feet.

Russet shaded brambles claw at the sky.

Badlands, full of beauty and past pains.

Fruition

In retrospective, things always seem to move so fast. However, as we experience things in life we often find our patience waning. Everything has to happen right then.

All it takes is patience. All things come to fruition eventually. If we're always waiting for one thing to happen, then we'll miss everything else.

Floating

When I was little, I would occasionally float into the sky. I'd just be playing in the yard and then out of nowhere I would start to rise slowly into the air. Past the roof of my house. I'd grab at tree branches trying to pull myself back down. Petrified of falling back down to earth I'd call out but nobody could hear my voice. I imagined it must have been angels lifting me up.

In time, I'd be on solid ground again playing just as

before. No one believed me. I know I didn't imagine it.

Floating up into the heavens. I don't remember getting

back to the ground, but it really happened.

Walking

Throughout the wood, you see small animals and various flora. The smell of moss on rocks and locks. The air is moist, a shower of green herbs and twinkling stars. A bright star peaking through the canopy of origami creating a gobo trance upon the ground.

Waves crash on the bright green algae, smearing light as though with a knife. Speckles on a stickbugs branch, grey like ash. Dew creeps up your nose, tickling. The smell... the smell of life.

The taste of peppermint and and tuber lightly dance on the tongue.

You can hear sticks crackle and crick underfoot during your slow meander. No rush, no worry. Complete comfort and safety.

Walking, by the old house, walking.

Falling

Coy koi falling - down

trying to swim - up - water

water - falls - in lake

when you think you're falling down

then reach up to the sky and grab a cloud

Ripples

Splash

Night

Darkness ahead of me

darkness behind me

envelops me

develops me

it destroys me

it rebuilds me

I die inside the womb

A spark keeps me alive

cutting through the night

life is dark

hope is light

Spider

The spider sits in everlasting meditation... Constantly waiting with patience until it achieves its goal. Patience of this magnitude is rarely found among the human population, only among creatures such as the spider can it found. Moreover, in the case of the spider, patience of this variety is a primal instinct. Why is it then that we humans don't possess it? After all, humanity caves to other primal instincts, whether they be fear, violence, lust or hunger. Having said that, patience seems to have slipped through our grasp.

In essence, the smallest insect can wait for exceeding amounts of time, but a complex person cannot abide waiting five minutes to get their coffee in the morning. Traffic jams anger, rescheduling's upset, people feel as though time is being wasted. Whereas, the spider sits and waits for it's meals... It prepares elaborate webs over time. Sitting camouflaged the spider wallows in a sense of self, waiting to eat.

Humanity... primal in so many ways, yet completely absorbed in the flow of fast paced modernity. The spider waits for a meal --- The human buys a surplus of food and magazines that show what else it can buy to fill its time. Society as we know it, can no longer wait. People cannot stand meditating on themselves. Instead, we buy our way into numbness, in order to escape our thoughts. Thus, we have lead humanity into a whirlpool where time escapes us. Our days filled with effortless convenience. Walking becomes an inconvenience. Our webs have become sloppy. Our meals can no longer be caught: just microwaved.

Urgency of mind

Addiction forces purchase

We are all guilty

Abstraction Pt. 2

Fonts adlib, sitting forward... not sure if anything will happen, none too pleased with the results she looks back and realizes it was all for not. Nothing actually makes sense anymore, he looks forward pleased at his accomplishment, a tornado yelling at a homeless man in a drinking fountain.

Never before, has someone seen, the way it thought it saw. However, who's to say it saw anything at all. Sitting on a park bench, biting through and through, "It's cold out", it said with disdain.

Looking out the window drinking tea before a sunset, watching the horizon, thinking 'what will come next'... nothing comes to mind... the tea tastes bitter filled with flavour... the tea doesn't care, it simply exists to be drunk.

Filled with light flowing

Rays shining through random paths

Life is abstraction

Standing in the snow

Winter frost bites down

Blackness envelops my skin

Wind whispers forth chill

Day the outhouse tipped

Been too long since I posted anything.

Figured I would show the results of a wind storm about a year ago...