I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I'm a human being first and foremost, and as such I'm for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole. ~ Malcom X
It is rare, nowadays to find a simple paragraph that touches my deep hidden well of wisdom, and taunts it - uncovering the gem of light within.
A paragraph from Lao Tzu's Tao Teh Ching.
When all the world recognizes beauty as beauty, this in itself is ugliness. When all the world recognizes good as good, this in itself is evil. Indeed, the hidden and the manifest give birth to each other. Difficult and easy complement each other. High and low set measure to each other. Voice and sound harmonize each other. Back and front follow each other. Therefore, the Sage manages his affairs without ado, And spreads his teaching without talking. He denies nothing to the teeming things. He rears them, but lays no claim to them. He does his work, but sets no store by it. He accomplishes his task, but does not dwell upon it. And yet it is just because he does not dwell on it That nobody can ever take it away from him.
Melancholy, the phases i go through, the lives i have lived and the sediments of my past experiences, do not tie me together, but rather gives me a story to share. A simple person, looking for the sullen, the beautiful and true; besets me into my spiraling inquiry - something that never left me, my guiding light, my god.
Indulgent, the masses look outside themselves for answers to questions yet defined. I stake claim to only my own truths, many of which are still a massive blur. Sometimes this life bores me, and i get fickle about the material side of life. The figments of pleasures, my imagination draws forth from all my insecurities of many. Yet my soul's gravity pulls me back into myself, often intensely - leaving my sense of ego; faltering.
Lukewarm, emotionally i succumb to hedonistic points of view, firmly held imbalance, as the chemistry of feelings explode when i am alone. No one to oscillate to, no one to communicate with, no one to expel any whims from. I enjoy the solitude and i smile at my comfort and ease of my emptiness.
Sly, my mind plays visual and auditory symbolism's designed to confuse and distract. The hegemony of culture and society puts voices in my mind, telling me to follow suit. Of which i sense the immense struggle within, not of arrogance, but of a insistent grace - bellowing the tide of circuitry involved in this shell i call my head. A pedagogy still afraid and untamed, it brings me back to my dilemma.
End, is the sign of things to come. An exclusive privilege only given to the chosen few. The wisdom of knowing your end, can only force a transcendental state. Impossible to go back to the same consciousness prior. A fragrance that you will never encounter again, is the stench of your transmogrification.
In memory of an important man. A love too young to realize, I miss you.
It's often too late to reconcile, myself from the history i have left, never in any regret for anything; No - "perhaps it could be different"; nor "if i did this, everything would have been better".
Now, everything is as it should be, and it has always been as it should have been.
I remember Steve Jobs, speaking clearly on aging and being older; that one connects the dots of the seemingly in-congruent choices, radical osmosis of youthful exuberance, of near death experiences and most importantly - really stupid financial decisions. All of which accumulates and is the sum of your present perfect situation.
Looking back at my insignificant time here on earth (26 years is really a short timeline in the grand scheme of the universe) i am no different from when i started this adventure, i still cry, poop and eat... But everything else is different. I think it was Heidegger who said the eyes are the window of a Man's soul, i don't know if that is true, but when i look into the eyes of the many people I've had the privilege of coming into contact with, i see a brightness, even the dark ones who live in romantic tragedy. They all have that same glow, just like the day they were born.
People intrigue me, they always have. I remember when i was a child, i used to just sit in silence and watch people. I didn't say a word to anyone, i would just look at them. That unnerved a lot of the adults and I always wondered why. The call to question existence and everything in it, took over my life when i was in secondary school, and that kinda got me in immense trouble with the teachers. I remember losing interest in school altogether by the time i took my O'levels. I just couldn't buy the notion that numbers on a certificate, would dictate my life's direction. It seemed stupid at the time, and really,.... it still does.
A measure of a man lives is in his ability to create, not in his ability to regurgitate information. That shaped how i would lead my life. Of course i was not able to comprehend life then as i do now, but i made choices that were fascinating and enriching to me, even if it got me into trouble in this society i live in. The trouble, simply fueled my passion to philosophize further and dwell into spaces my peers never touch nor knew about.
Outcast and misunderstood, i loved my journey of solitude; the days i spent in parks by myself, not going home, but sleeping under trees were the happiest days i can remember. The vast amount of time spent on thinking and writing, were invaluable. Looking back, I could have got a job, done more school work, made more money, but spending time being a hobo taught me more, then any class or course.
Now, life is clear, my direction is paved and my visions are slowly but surely crystallizing. I've stepped on toes, broke countless promises and disappointed too many people, in this journey, and i know that hampered many things, and for that i am sorry. Cause the fear of expressing my wisdom, and relying on self will were battles i lost daily. The repercussions of which are still echoing in my life of which i embrace, surrendering to karma.
But today, i experienced the uncanny sensation of looking at my own eyes, and seeing for the first time, a child. Observing him, and a-washed of feelings of being under my favourite tree, notepad in hand, and a smile on my face. Today i died, as i will tomorrow, and the day after. No different from the day i started to the day i end.
Imagine a scene, between two misfits, in this spinning world, holding on to each other. Not knowing when to pull away, or if to come together. An arcane glimpse into the others mystic moments, tied only by a mind - singular, but encapsulating. No shadows of malcontent nor the majestic arrogance of the proud ego. Simple and weightless they move together in the direction of their souls. Intertwined like the photons in vacuumed space, where no sound exist only a bold feeling.
The scene plays infinitely like a steeple on the church on temple mount. Hanging, over the land below, worshiping the sun, the feather and the holding sprites. An eternity absolved in a blink of an eye. The link breaks between them, and what is left is; sky.
Everything else, slips into itself, in a vortex of rainbows - cascading and ascending it ends.
This is how love was born. Naked and alone. But beautiful.
Wonderful is, the fallen leaves ellipse of her potted clay gray skin. I stare longingly into the green, on the edge of her yellow captured wing, of; plant named werewolf. She sleeps with the song of release, in her covered mildewed pillow. I cover my hands over her gentle silk, and feel for the first time, it's texture. Cold, akin to leathery skin i hold, in my being.
It speaks, without words as her stem moves me callously towards a gentle peace. I sense its whispers, calling out Prometheus, Prometheus, Prometheus. I shudder as she weeps into the cold dry night. Nothing i can do, as she sleeps and dreams of the wilderness, playing amongst the wolves - as i catch fish in the humming stream.
Alike ulcer the god; she feeds from me, as i let my brow drip into her bowl of dissolute, salty Garth. What is left is the false Jesuit second son, righteous and magnified ab-solvent it takes all nourishment's from, moving the soul, placid with zen waters - the self, loses the self as it grows without accomplishment.
Hurried into a hove, a concave shaped misspent hove. Cylindrical like a symphony frozen at it's crescendo, the architecture exemplifies nonchalance and stuttering ambiguity. All within a smog of aura, choking me into spasms of heavy coughs. A fractal seed, drawing me into it's surrounding perceived emptiness.
Regression hits me, with dirt particles at my precipice of thought. Hypnotized and in a stasis, i plough through this egoless, energy - holarchy; bringing me to the beautiful sky in my mind, where nothing exist through an existence filled with past memories. Hard is it to smile and find that inner label of nirvanic joy. I cringe as she blooms. Her flowers seed me, flagrantly in my entropy. I burst inwardly, the implosion berates me further into nothingness.
I stand still.
She the plant, the flower, the soil, the seed, the colour, the smell, the essence, the thought, the reflection, is perfectly whole and dear. I cherish my plant. For she is werewolf, and i am the sun. Now and forever, today and tomorrow, the chain and the ball, we dance - till the end and beyond. Sweet and magnificent, she kills me with esteem joy... and i love her for it.
This new bubble of unfolding consciousness, imbued upon this makeshift matter, brings a syncretic conundrum. "My Organic form, versus my capacity to weave life's intrinsic energy flow". I dwell too much on the innate spirituality, mind scopes of philosophical epistemology's and i have seemed to miss my sensuous motion of my physicality. I speak truth when i say, i don't feel much of anything anymore...
In retrospect, i am moving towards a new "numb", a feeling i have yet to fully experience. It is interesting to observe myself in the daily struggles and postulations from my Oedipus complex... (damn you Freud!) Hitting the books again is a beautiful ugly, from Sartre to Heidegger back to the tenets of the Integral. My mind is consumed with new array of patterns, and this cognitive kaleidoscope feels like an acid/LSD cocktail.
Not a wisdom found, but through the nihilistic approach, everything simplifies, deconstructs and brings a new wonder. Looking at my life in general, nothing has changed yet everything has... I am not hungry for anything anymore, (maybe plants) but i feel i have stopped growing and have hit a plateau. The walls are higher this time and i can't see where it ends. I have observed it, walked the length of it and sat in hope of a bulldozer tearing a hole...
The walls are nothing but stone, hard and gray. I feel it's callous cold and i wonder out loud. "where am i?" I have explore the depths of my mind, sat in meditations for hours on end and the summit of the stone face leads me back to my physical form. Seeking to know where, my root Chakra, my Muladhara, the grounded-ness of my set organic make up is currently at, leaves me with only one conclusion.... i don't really fucking know.
I have never really cared, for my physical form. This supposedly temple of mine has been abused, and left decrepit. So maybe to climb the wall is to tend and garden this body of mine. A journey i have put aside and left for other pursuits. I am not lazy, i just didn't see the point. Managing the flow, of life's beautiful landscape is now a physical journey. *sigh* I don't have that youthful passionate verve to rebel and lay waste to the dogmatic rituals many aspire to. This body is tired, so i will bring a new understanding for it's limits just because i can, not because it makes absolute sense nor it's benefits enticing me with new dimensions of awareness.
I miss my Minerva, the epoch of artistic endeavours only known to those who find solace in the temple they own and carry. I knew that once... a long time ago. I seek that ladder,to climb this wall. My next stage of evolution is physical, and a word of warning to you my "ego"... Bugger off and let me do what i will.
In the midst of the pursuit of success, to be free from our fears and just trying to survive; taking time to breathe, to center oneself amongst the chaos has been a forgotten privilege. This microcosm of lifestyles we adhere too, what ever it maybe keeps us binded and trapped. We try to hard to have others like us, so that we can have the proverbial "pat on the back" that distant "Kudos" just to be admired in someway or another.
Self power is a disillusioned entity that lives in the self-help section of the many bookstores and libraries we visit. It is already within our grasp. There is no need to reach for it, to pursue that freedom all human beings long for. It is right here, right now - that tiny voice ever so quiet, urging us to follow the deepest calling, our truest vocation. To evolve, to expand, to be truly great only in our eyes is the most courageous act. To do what you truly want takes the greatest of courage. To stare fear, to look at society's pressures and say NO, i follow the music within, i step to a different drummer none of you can touch, will be met with extreme resistance, judgement and prejudice. Especially from the people who care most about you.
This life is indeed one big struggle, to evolve, and to be free. Yet it is to be enjoyed...
So take time, if you want - to simply be still and quiet. Listen to that small voice within. Breathe and expand. and let it inspire you.
Let your drummer kick.
"Why should we be in such desperate haste to succeed, and in such desperate enterprises? If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music in which he hears, however measured, or far away."~ Henry David Thoreau
Let the drummer kick Relations Creation Incarceration Determination Equation Humiliation Reincarnation Situation Elation Identification Retaliation Education Inspiration No substitution Solution Conclusion Let the drummer kick Relations (Apollo had to break 'em) Creation (It's a gift, a blessing) Incarceration (What keeps you down) Determination (What gets you out) Equation (When they said you could make it) Humiliation (What you feel when they say it) Reincarnation (N-A-V) Situation (Why we've got to sing) Elation (So many in need) Identification (Gives you the right to shoot) Retaliation (What would it do) Education (Gives you the right to do) Inspiration (What pulls you through) No substitution (No substitute) Non-inclusion (Just got to bust through) Drug infusion (For the chosen few) Mass confusion (When they say that they died for you) Delusion (Say that the dreams don't come true) Solution (It can take a hold of you) Conclusion
Inspiration (Is what pulls you through) Let the drummer kick (Inspiration) You don't even have to wait Let the drummer kick that
~ Lyrics from "Let the drummer Kick" (Citizen Cope)
It's been quite a while since i last sat down and deliberated my life's path. The constant ventures, the moving of home and the grounding of my being in my personal growth has not dissuaded me from my callings, but has been a welcome distraction.
Now looking at the happenings in the world; even here at home, i feel drawn again to the battle; to the quintessential human struggle. Evolution has been a big word in the many realms of scientific and philosophical pursuits today, and already the esoteric's are calling this coming age (2012) the next stage of our reality - of what i truly don't know. But the cool thing is, i feel like i am part of that shift, that turnkey of which all will find it's place, and some sort of nativity will take place. (nope not in a christian sense, but of a spiritual plane that will move us internally)
My eyes take me back to that place, of despair and disillusionment. But this time, it doesn't feel personal, no anger and frustration in my core, instead a sensible calm, haha in fact a romantic sense of belonging steeps in. My wisdom has been uncovered, my tools are being sharpened and the process is leading me to the inevitable.
I remember reading a line from Ayn Rand's Fountainhead, about if any work is to be produced, it is mandatory, that is must come from within the deepest realm of the soul. "If anything is to be given, let it be your soul." A powerful resonance, that has shaped my life, recently.
So listening to a song today, (how god places great many things in my ears) i was brought back to my teenage years, the happy fight of protesting against the status quo, the rebel in me going against the grain, the questioning of formal authority and the dumb fucks that holds the system in place.
I smiled, and quietly chuckled. Naive, yet passionate. How good day's were, when we were young and stupid. :) Today however, i am back to the start, the end and beginning of that perfect circle. Wiser, mature and grounded in the realness of life's flow. More then aware of my flaws, and my pitfalls, i am complete and free...
Tomorrow is today and i am sleepy, and i know as i awake, the stirring in me will be expressed and i pray for the angels to lead me on. Cause if you really look at the world, and the behaviour of our species, you will be embarrassed and sadden by all the atrocities we have to fight and make better. Yes there are better people out there, but think about it. If we continue, or let continue what we have been doing and allowing;
I see the smiles on the screen, and i wonder if it is all real, not the disjointed reality i see. Are you really happy with all, or is that just a captured moment of fleeting bliss? Cause i see you differently, i see your anguish, i deal with your pain; so how can you smile and seem like it isn't there? The worst of each of us; somehow i know, lives in our smile.
Your eyes seem heavy, like dark pearls closed by the oyster's shell, shielding the truth. I stare into them and i get lost, the psychic maze shrouds me over and i somehow feel safe. Like the stain on a used sofa (wine remanence of a happier day, of memories of sullen faces but bright eyes) of a material so comfortable and broken in.
The antiquity of my memory, shows all the hidden pain behind all those eyes, with smiles on faces - the quiet fear, the mistaken portrait of contentment reminds me why i am here. I am that face, i am that smile, those eyes belong to me just the same. A mirror, a screen, a window; all i see is my pale shadowed reflection, screaming silently. Me with sullen face, curled down lips and that antagonized frown, but seeing with bright bliss filled eyes. I know the honor, the pride of staring at one's own soul and it staring back at me.
With that, now i know; that birth of a star, of that galaxy born within us, and i will never be the same. My breath has been taken away, so has my immortality and it's alright. I now understand what it means to be human, apart and away from my soul. That i have learned from staring into your eyes. I see your sorrow, but its okay, your smile protects you. But only with you, i can flow away.
Unexpected turns and random events seem to perturb the resolute routine i schedule myself in. It is unlike me to find a disciplined routine to churn out my daily deliverables, both to myself and the hordes of friends, clients and family - yet i do.
Life has somehow caught up with me, and i am for the first time in my life; feeling my age.
The rebel in me strengthens, but with a wiser head and with sharper eyes. I am starting to control my thoughts, and many a theory of mine are collapsing under the weight of intuition and emptying of my mind.
I am a Man.
It's funny how that strikes no cord within, "i am a man". What really constitute manliness? Muscles? The ability to provide for a family or independence from all parental support? Maybe none of the above, but it's distinction eludes me and is inconsequential for now.
I'm just glad to see all the people in my life doing well. A new place of my own... A different environment, a different approach to life and a different love in my heart - yet all still is the same. Nothing changed, just my ability to manifest what i want.
My dreams all still intact, a few i put on hold (practical reasons) but are still factored in my grand scheme of what is my future. No hopes and youthful brashness exist in my being anymore - in that i am relieved, but sad. My passion is stronger, my efforts doubled but that innocent swagger, the arrogant aloofness has dissipated into maturity. Now' choices take a much more deliberate form, and my battles are always picked instead of going against the grain, headfirst.
I don't know what is in store for me, the next 25 years, or will i live to see my 51st birthday. All i know is, i am here and now. This time here and now, holds all meaning and i am in the practice of exploring as many Milli-seconds i have in all of my present moments.
I am blessed to have the job of my dreams, to lead my own life as i see fit, and have all the ability and wisdom to create/manifest all that which is important to me. I know how much of a difference life takes on, when i devote my entirety to service and evolution, both of myself and to others.
So life...
I am so glad to see you well.
"Be a philosopher but, amid all your philosophy be still a man" ~ Hume
In a small thumbnail, the size of a nail head. The smallish nature of this system, I am starting to notice my hollowness. Why I approach certain situations with pride, and reach for affection when I am rejected?
I wonder, if could it be my fear of being stood upon - my competitive reprieve? I do not have much gumption to hold myself that highly. I am nothing in comparison to many others, when a faculty is called into juxtapose.
No special place of my design.
Secluded I stand in the mean-time. The truth staring at me head on, with grotesque’s blood stained eyes- I cannot avoid. It’s my time to face up to choices of consequence I didn’t calculate. How one action/inaction affects the whole? It sits in wait… it knows I will fuck up, but my lack of expertise and knowledge/experience is a testament to my fatalistic ignorance.
I shall be so vain, helpless and in a deep addiction to covering my tracks. I am tired. I never knew, I never surfaced. My jaundice of natural wisdom, pleads a cleansing and nourishment away from a hedonistic whim. A form, a function of purity leasing me more time to move this machine into an archaical form. A new being perhaps, or the same old, with new clothes this may somehow ceases…or not.
All i know is my life started with a breath, a sweet intake of air, of the cosmic consciousness into my very essence. How I came to be, i have yet to understand, however who i am today is a pale reflection of the love that has brought me this far. Not to sound melodramatic, but i have received and given this force called love as i have embraced my shadow of fear and repression.
A duality i still struggle to find a center to. I have seen others who move to the beat of their own drum and i am almost always inspired and in awe. The courage to follow and express what is inside of them, despite the constant distractions of challenges - gives me hope. To me these folks are filled with a wisdom very few posses and even fewer seek. It is not obvious who these people are as they are always humble and blend in with the rest, but they have a presence and aura unmistakable to a master.
I have also witness the drones who walk this earth, with faceless passion and ambiguity disguised as knowledge, with righteousness in their ignorance, and they used to fill me up with incredible sadness. I was way too young to understand the undertow of society's perpetuating force of displacement and deconstruction. Now i understand I am also one of them, not separate but actually am one of the "sheeple"...
Yet that has always been a tug, a constant itch in my gut, that is trying to wake me from my slumber and breathe the sweet air once again. Sometimes i listen, but on rare occasion. The bulk of my activity has been gear towards my own personal gain. The food for the ego, the fodder of my collapse, chokes me and i can't stop over-eating the rubbish. Every time i move away, i get drawn back in deeper and more stuck. I am a spiritual bulimic.
I know intellectually the Ying and Yang, the embracing of the duality will be the death of my ego and through the centering of my vibrations i will be in peace and love. I understand that manifesting that is the only purpose and the only truth. Everything is as it is, and that beauty lives in the perfection of the symbiotic relationship of waves transposed as matter caused by the electromagnetic fields called consciousness.
I get it...
Up here, in my head:
But to experience that in my essence, is a different matter all together (pun is intended)
I see the strings, i feel the confluence and i am starting to move to beat of my own essence.
I am flowing to places and experiences, new and brilliant.
And i am thankful..."My reflection wraps and pulls me under
I was browsing some sites i frequent and stumbled into an intrinsic question, which tickled my silly brain into some real activity (activity that has been stagnant for sometime now.) A harmless question that spoke and reflected my internal fears. I would like to approach the question with introspect, an added humility to my state of being. As its reality, poses a true test of character and perhaps poise of spirit.
"How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?"
A simple question; yet it probes malignantly at me, gnawing and taunting, cause it seeks a truth about our human condition, ultimately my own condition -
How many of us actually realize our dreams? How many of us, even know what our dreams are? (I have meet some people who actually don't even know how to dream.)
- we the majority fail.
Or do we?
I remember reading about "Mumia Abu Jamal" a few years ago, the ongoing struggle of the Black Man and him quoting Malcom X, "Don't be shock that i say, i have been in prison, we are still in prison". That's how i feel sometimes, this struggle; this life seems to enslave me further, the job, the relationships, the necessities of survival in this metropolitan society. It encases my spirit in a lackadaisical whim and i fold my cards, yes i fold, as it's what society expects anyway. Stop this childish dreams, focus on career, save money and settle down. Jeez... is that all that is to life?
Than i look deep within, the internal conflict of the longing of freedom and the purpose my souls calls forth - and i can't seem to find the balance between the three.
Freedom - Purpose - Responsibilities.
What a task, what a task...
I think it is a sick society we live in, where the Thais throw illegal aliens overboard to their deaths just because they have no space for refugees, dolphins are captured to provide sick entertainment, where; the powers that be, place little resources in keeping the masses educated and well informed, where to follow through on one's dream has to take a arduous path of self-sacrifice and frown upon as irresponsible.
How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?"
"Why do they always teach us that it is easy and evil to do what we want and that we need discipline to restrain ourselves. It's the hardest thing to do in the world - to do what we want. And it takes the greatest kind of courage."~ Ayn Rand
We rob ourselves and each other from living full lives...
It is our responsibility to chase our dreams, it is a right of anyone to ask for support and help as it is our duty as a society to encourage and provide the resources to make all dreams reality. Leave no man behind. To evolve, we have to shift our thinking and lifestyles completely - cause we are at the edge of destruction. We have fragmented ourselves to a point of misunderstanding, confusion and self-loathing loneliness.
It's about time, and i hope, dearly hope that with Obama leading America, change will come. But as we all know it starts with me. It is difficult, with all the repression society, friends and family provide once we begin the journey. (those who have started, this includes self-sabotage - you know what i mean) Most of my closest friends are awakened to some extent and are on the path of significant purpose and i applaud them, for all the courage, blood, sweat and tears just to have their lives turn out. All effort is with a tremendous amount of heart and bravery. But i question this.
Why does it have to be hard?
I recently read about homeostasis and it speaks about a deep seeded resolve to continue the status quo on a very primal and subconscious level. I also understand this in the context of the mind - That change is unwelcome and if so, must be in very small doses. The discrepancy of new information or environment will almost always cause a violent rejection. To quote Arthur Schopenhauer.
"All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident"
Therefore, change: if is not to be opposed has to come in small doses.
That brings me to me and my mortality. Being 26... a young man, with a pure heart, a clear mind and a passionate resonance of soul who seeks to uplift my own consciousness - finds beauty in the struggle. And i feel that is the point of it all, cause really there is nothing else to do....
The question, "How many unwritten novels, unrealized campaigns, and brilliant ideas have never seen the light of day?" is inconsequential. I think, a powerful question to ask is, "have i attempted pursuing and accomplishing my dreams and have i made life easier for others to pursue their own?"
"We live on front porches and swing life away We get by just fine here on minimum wage If love is a labor I'll slave 'til the end I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand."
