I could live here…
Just right here. In these arms…
The arms that taught me the difference.
The difference between the real McCoy and all the rest….
Wrapped so tightly I can feel her pulsing heart beats directly on my chest.
Her cheek pressed against my ear blocking out the rest of the world.
Silencing everything, except the rise and fall of her breath.
With each inhale my lungs fill with the smell of her incredibly soft, ancient, vanilla powdery skin.
She kisses me.
And kisses me
And kisses me some more.
She kisses me with such conviction.
A conviction that makes me doubt her intentions.
These aren’t the casual grandma kisses of vacation good byes.
These kisses are her legacy if need be.
Her gifts….
Her gifts of just in case.
Kisses that want me to remember, that want to be set apart from all the rest.
Kisses that want to take a piece of me with her and leave all of her behind.
Kisses that say nothing but speak volumes.
Kisses that bring tears to my eyes.
Kisses that I fear may be the last of all kisses.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Thursday, September 04, 2008
?
Is polygamy an innate characteristic of the human race?
Is life an eternal struggle to suppress those urges and to stay true to the confines of our society?
Is consequence the only reason we choose to abide by these rules of monogamy?
Are we not rightly justified in claiming that we are insatiable?
Can we deny that we are constantly being weighed, constantly being measured and constantly found wanting?
Is life an eternal struggle to suppress those urges and to stay true to the confines of our society?
Is consequence the only reason we choose to abide by these rules of monogamy?
Are we not rightly justified in claiming that we are insatiable?
Can we deny that we are constantly being weighed, constantly being measured and constantly found wanting?
Friday, July 25, 2008
Many sides of the same coin.
There are many different sides to everyone.
And in your interactions with certain people, for the most part they only get to see a limited number of sides to your personality.
Your teacher at school never really gets to see the party animal you become on the dance floor when your favorite song comes on.
You friends never get to see the work side of you.
And your co- workers, assuming you don’t dip your pen in the company pot, never get to see the romantic intimate side of you.
Just think isn’t it insane that I know Joe blow in only this light but that on a different day in a different circumstance. Joe blow becomes and is don Juan the foreign exchange student with the sexy accent?
You ever wonder about how many sides of you there are?
And how you are perhaps the sole person that sees all those sides leaving room for critique and self analysis. It’s the interaction between all these sides that is the key. You take that secret with you to the grave.
I may know Sarah as a class mate and a daughter because I’ve seen her interact with her family at study time but what am I to say about Sarah as a student beyond the scope of our class?
It’s especially interesting because it’s these little glimpses that people give us into their personalities that then form our entire perception of the person as a whole.
My mind almost wants to implode when I think about the number of assumptions people and I make about each other, the world and the circumstances in it every single day. So the key is be open minded. Allow for the possibility of an existence of ANY explanation.
The brain is however finite.. there is no such thing as infinite open mindedness. Does that then mean we’re destined to a life of false assumptions?
*********************************************************
**********************Sept 2nd***************************
The many sides of the same coin and then some.....
Further reflection and another first encounter.
I come home and reflect on the evening as I often do with everything in my world.
Sometimes I wonder if there is such a thing as way too much thinking for your own good.
Alas, I reach the conclusion that the exposition of self should be a delicate and intricate process. Something that we take for granted on a day to day basis.
Take for example the order in which you reveal the many sides of your personality.
Lets say in one encounter you first expose your insecurities and second a bit of humor followed by humility and then your confidence. What picture does the person you’ve just met create about you in their mind? It is human instinct to assume the person before them is on wobbly ground… uncertain of their goals in life… allowing the wind to take them where it may. A person with not a whole lot of caliber. A short sight on most of our parts. what is to be said of the courage of a person willing, on a first meeting, to expose a part of them very often mistaken for a weakness? What is to be said of the comfort level this person has with their insecurities? What is to be said about the nature of the interaction that is being had with the person in front of them? All questions we often forget to ask ourselves regarding our first impressions.
Now take another first encounter where you first expose your humor, confidence, humility and then your insecurities. This, in most circumstances is what keeps people coming back for more. Life is difficult on many levels, whether it be on a personal or professional level. And so to be around someone who is confident and exudes energy inevitably gives us that positive sense of well being as well and so we recreate the circumstance in which we find ourselves in their company. Now throw a little humility and insecurity into the mix and just like magic you become human the confidence and humor that previously might have had you up on a pedestal are now counteracted by these endearing human qualities. But again this too is often a short sight…what people often fail to see is that… there are definite walls being placed in this circumstance. There are things they have deemed too personal or private to share with a perfect stranger. There are issues with trust. Issues of self preservation from hurt.
But what is it about a specific person that unintentionally allows us to pick a specific order in which to unveil all that is ‘you’?
Why is it that meeting one person I can come off as the most arrogant person and to another the most humble? We must inevitably be affected or influenced by something.
What is that something? And wouldn’t understanding what that something was give us great negotiating and marketing power?
And in your interactions with certain people, for the most part they only get to see a limited number of sides to your personality.
Your teacher at school never really gets to see the party animal you become on the dance floor when your favorite song comes on.
You friends never get to see the work side of you.
And your co- workers, assuming you don’t dip your pen in the company pot, never get to see the romantic intimate side of you.
Just think isn’t it insane that I know Joe blow in only this light but that on a different day in a different circumstance. Joe blow becomes and is don Juan the foreign exchange student with the sexy accent?
You ever wonder about how many sides of you there are?
And how you are perhaps the sole person that sees all those sides leaving room for critique and self analysis. It’s the interaction between all these sides that is the key. You take that secret with you to the grave.
I may know Sarah as a class mate and a daughter because I’ve seen her interact with her family at study time but what am I to say about Sarah as a student beyond the scope of our class?
It’s especially interesting because it’s these little glimpses that people give us into their personalities that then form our entire perception of the person as a whole.
My mind almost wants to implode when I think about the number of assumptions people and I make about each other, the world and the circumstances in it every single day. So the key is be open minded. Allow for the possibility of an existence of ANY explanation.
The brain is however finite.. there is no such thing as infinite open mindedness. Does that then mean we’re destined to a life of false assumptions?
*********************************************************
**********************Sept 2nd***************************
The many sides of the same coin and then some.....
Further reflection and another first encounter.
I come home and reflect on the evening as I often do with everything in my world.
Sometimes I wonder if there is such a thing as way too much thinking for your own good.
Alas, I reach the conclusion that the exposition of self should be a delicate and intricate process. Something that we take for granted on a day to day basis.
Take for example the order in which you reveal the many sides of your personality.
Lets say in one encounter you first expose your insecurities and second a bit of humor followed by humility and then your confidence. What picture does the person you’ve just met create about you in their mind? It is human instinct to assume the person before them is on wobbly ground… uncertain of their goals in life… allowing the wind to take them where it may. A person with not a whole lot of caliber. A short sight on most of our parts. what is to be said of the courage of a person willing, on a first meeting, to expose a part of them very often mistaken for a weakness? What is to be said of the comfort level this person has with their insecurities? What is to be said about the nature of the interaction that is being had with the person in front of them? All questions we often forget to ask ourselves regarding our first impressions.
Now take another first encounter where you first expose your humor, confidence, humility and then your insecurities. This, in most circumstances is what keeps people coming back for more. Life is difficult on many levels, whether it be on a personal or professional level. And so to be around someone who is confident and exudes energy inevitably gives us that positive sense of well being as well and so we recreate the circumstance in which we find ourselves in their company. Now throw a little humility and insecurity into the mix and just like magic you become human the confidence and humor that previously might have had you up on a pedestal are now counteracted by these endearing human qualities. But again this too is often a short sight…what people often fail to see is that… there are definite walls being placed in this circumstance. There are things they have deemed too personal or private to share with a perfect stranger. There are issues with trust. Issues of self preservation from hurt.
But what is it about a specific person that unintentionally allows us to pick a specific order in which to unveil all that is ‘you’?
Why is it that meeting one person I can come off as the most arrogant person and to another the most humble? We must inevitably be affected or influenced by something.
What is that something? And wouldn’t understanding what that something was give us great negotiating and marketing power?
Friday, July 18, 2008
Helios
A theoretical silence is yearning to be realized and exercised in the real world as opposed to the letters, words and sentences it usually inhabits in books. The use of a Mantra to help keep the mind from doing what it does. Jumping from one thought to the next at a million miles per hour.
“Learn to become aware of your surroundings”
“Listen to the music that is the world that surrounds you”
Focused and with her eyes closed, she notices the inflow of air through her nose, down her neck into her chest. Paying special attention to that magnificent duality at the precise instance where an inhale becomes and IS an exhale.
Contradiction, not only the human condition but the world’s as well. “Sinners and a Saints. Bitches and lovers” She sinks heavier into her breath, continuing to occupy her mind with a mantra and allowing the body to further connect to the ground on which she sat.
The wind flirts with the leaves and they react with a shiver. The sound carries across the dark still water that faces her. A black glass mirror reflecting nothing. An abyss that is awakened by a wind that pretends to be a ballerina pitter pattering across it at full pointe. The small steps shatter the stillness and create reflections of an orange glow in the distance. A sunrise reversed. The sun replaced by the rising harvest moon. A warm orange hue resembling that of iron that is sculpted by a blacksmith stretches its arms across the lake and begins to grow from a distance. With every passing second the glow taking on a more definite unmistakably perfectly round shape. Helios must be confused. Leaving the sun behind and instead dragging the moon across the night sky.
There is a eerie tranquility here.
She comes back into consciousness and allows her mind to process the scene before her. There is slight surprise at the acknowledgement of momentary fear. A surge of thoughts brought on by a mind that is now unoccupied by the repetition of the mantra. “Is this what judgment day looks like? A darkness that is not light by a sun rising from the west? A defining silence that screams solitude, seclusion and exclusion?” The sound of an exhale snaps her mind back from the trenches of negativity and allows her to behold the beauty that is.
The moon.
The lake.
The night sky.
The mantra.
Sub7an allah… allahmduellah… walaho akbar.
“Learn to become aware of your surroundings”
“Listen to the music that is the world that surrounds you”
Focused and with her eyes closed, she notices the inflow of air through her nose, down her neck into her chest. Paying special attention to that magnificent duality at the precise instance where an inhale becomes and IS an exhale.
Contradiction, not only the human condition but the world’s as well. “Sinners and a Saints. Bitches and lovers” She sinks heavier into her breath, continuing to occupy her mind with a mantra and allowing the body to further connect to the ground on which she sat.
The wind flirts with the leaves and they react with a shiver. The sound carries across the dark still water that faces her. A black glass mirror reflecting nothing. An abyss that is awakened by a wind that pretends to be a ballerina pitter pattering across it at full pointe. The small steps shatter the stillness and create reflections of an orange glow in the distance. A sunrise reversed. The sun replaced by the rising harvest moon. A warm orange hue resembling that of iron that is sculpted by a blacksmith stretches its arms across the lake and begins to grow from a distance. With every passing second the glow taking on a more definite unmistakably perfectly round shape. Helios must be confused. Leaving the sun behind and instead dragging the moon across the night sky.
There is a eerie tranquility here.
She comes back into consciousness and allows her mind to process the scene before her. There is slight surprise at the acknowledgement of momentary fear. A surge of thoughts brought on by a mind that is now unoccupied by the repetition of the mantra. “Is this what judgment day looks like? A darkness that is not light by a sun rising from the west? A defining silence that screams solitude, seclusion and exclusion?” The sound of an exhale snaps her mind back from the trenches of negativity and allows her to behold the beauty that is.
The moon.
The lake.
The night sky.
The mantra.
Sub7an allah… allahmduellah… walaho akbar.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Egyptians.. don't you know zem?
I'm lost in my thoughts and browsing through the mall because it's too sticky outside. I tend to zone out as I ponder all. I reflect on certain situations, how people react or their facial expressions, and think about my interaction with the world and finally draw conclusions. A process that generally detaches me from everything. Sound, surroundings and people. It could be a hustling bustling bazaar that I'm walking through and as long as I'm thinking I'm in my own world. So there I am on the escalator staring off into never never land immersed in thought. When, much like in Hollywood movies, all is silent except for the sound of my resonating thoughts . This is interrupted however, by an insistent sound that triggers the return to reality. I unconsciously resist. It was just like an alarm clock that interrupts your sleep and for a few minutes you're not really sure if you're hearing it buzz or if that's simply a part of the dream. You try to focus and regroup on what you were doing but this buzzing in the background won't let you do it in peace. You drift further and further away from the bubble that is your dream and slowly become aware of your surroundings. I hear a sound of a boy who is approximately 10 years old. His voice isn't very distinctive except for the fact that he has this whininess to him. I listen for a pause in the beeping that is his voice but there is none. I listen for what may be genuine anguish but there is none of that either. He's whining the way a baby does not because it's hungry, hurt nor needs a diaper change. He's whining the way he has learnt to get attention. Its an obnoxious "look at me otherwise I'm going to fill your air with noise pollution that's going to make you wish the world would cave in on you just to make me stop". He had often tested his limits and on this glorious occasion decided to push them right to the limit. Use and abuse the everyone's affection. All these observations and thought transgresses mind you, before I can even see the boy. It is only after I have noticed the intonation in his voice, the constant rhythm of repetition and the fact that he does not stop for air that the word he is repeating finally registers with me. He's calling his mother but is stressing on different letters in the word than most Canadian kids do. He doesn't pronounce the umm in the middle of the word mummy the way someone who was pondering something would while scratching his head. The u sounds more like an a. He pronounces it much like a southerner would pronounce the world Maa. Very slowly and drawn out specifically at the A followed by a quick me. Maaaame. And so he goes Mami mami mami mami mami mami. I held my breath as I ascended towards the voice and counted a total of 17 consecutive mamis. I think it was right at the 9th consecutive mami that I decided with conviction: This kid IS Egyptian!" The lamada, the persistence, the way he's been taught to say the word mummy in a supposedly "chic" way. And surely enough as I start to see what appear to be his feet clad with fancy nikes and a loose pair of fitting jeans topped with a bright typically red Benetton polo style t-shirt my suspicions are confirmed. He's got that bronzed skin tone, the wonderfully fuzzy Egyptian hair that's gone a little lighter from hanging out in the sun as he played soccer with the neighbors, and the sweat that is dripping profusely from his pudgy face. His mother is comfortably plopped on some lawn furniture that's on sale, conveniently placed between the outdoor gardening section and the toy section. She is oblivious to the fact that her son is developing bronchitis as he incessantly repeats the word mami to her without a breath. She sits the way I imagine she would if that piece of furniture was placed in her own living room at home. I kept waiting for the shaghala to walk in with the Turkish coffee and the tall glass of water on a tray. At which point she'd make some remark about not ever wanting her to bring coffee out if the bottom of the water glass was going to leave a ring on the tray. She'd look over at her friend and say something belittling of the poor woman then proceed to offer her friend the coffee like she'd slaved over it for hours. In the distance I hear another repetition only in a higher pitch. I think "OH NO! There can't possibly be two of them?!" I frantically scan the area with my eyes hoping I'm imagining it but to my bad luck… My eyes and ears come to agreement as I zero in on the noise and there it is… The other half of the family. Another boy, relatively the same age as the first. I'm thinking 3 months apart because the newly wed couple didn't really manage to get much baby making practice in sans the baby and couldn't possibly fathom the idea of another pregnancy so quick after the first. That or there was no time to dilly dally with contraception… we are a horny population afterall! Regardless, the second boy is dressed identically like the first with the exception of a blue bennton polo shirt. And of course the variation in his song. The word Paaapi. There was no doubt that these two were brothers.. they looked the same… they were dressed the same… they spoke the same… they refused to breath the same and both their parents had that glazed look and smile on their faces just the same. The kind where they smile on the outside but repeat "think happy thoughts… think happy thoughts… think happy thoughts" on the inside just to keep from killing themselves and ironically being a living testimony to the wonder that is genetic inheritance. They are after all their children! I see this scene and automatically without thinking take a left turn… exactly the way they'd taught us to march as cadets in middle school on Sundays. I get on the escalator going down in shock and disbelief. I exhale and repeat… also without a breath as I descent further and further away from the sound. "astaghfar allah al 3azeem ya rab, astaghfar allah il 3azeem ya rab, astaghfar allah il 3azeem ya rab, astaghfar allah il 3azeem ya rab, astaghfar allah il 3azeem ya rab and allahdmeullah, allahdmeullah allahdmeullah allahdmeullah allahdmeullah allahdmeullah allahdmeullah." I shudder with goose bumps at the idea of having children that create that much noise and want to expel the thought of possibly being punished on earth with such children for any sins I may have committed and immediately thank god for the fact that I don't have to take them home with me the way the poor parents do. That unlike them I could step onto an escalator going in the other direction and shake the thought of them off. I do suppose it is the parents fault after all for allowing that sort of behavior and would like to think that if I were to ever have children their up brining would vary greatly. But….I catch myself laughing when I realize I just finished doing the exact same thing the children had done except internally. I laugh even harder at the thought that I too was once upon a type a similar Egyptian kid!
Sunday, June 29, 2008
The wishy washy
What is it with men?
They're the weight lifters, the career creators and developers, the insanely stuck jar openers, the remote control kings, The gods of WD40 and UHU but ask them to commit to an emotion and they turn to puree.
Actually don't even ask them to commit to an emotion the real world does that for you. All I ever did was engage. Engage in something that I know damn well was good for the both of us. A mental and spiritual connection like no other. So why the delusional attachment to this nonexistent idea of ever fleeting freedom? Why? I have no ball and chain… and even if I did why oh why would I want anyone to lug all that weight around? It defeats the purpose doesn't it? It kills the whimsy of the light feathery feeling that all this is supposed to create.
This is a plea… to all boys, guys and even men.
Please! Please, please, please!
For my sanity and the women around you.
Either man up and admit you don't want the lady in your life so she can move on and do her own thing or keep the bullshit to yourself!
I can understand. I don't want you.
I can understand I don't want this (the relationship)
I can understand I'm seeing someone else.
I can understand this has become more than I can handle right now
I can understand I'm not feeling it anymore there is no spark.
I can understand I don't see this going anywhere
but for god's sake steer clear of the wishy washy, I want you but won't commit fully but partially bullshit.
They're the weight lifters, the career creators and developers, the insanely stuck jar openers, the remote control kings, The gods of WD40 and UHU but ask them to commit to an emotion and they turn to puree.
Actually don't even ask them to commit to an emotion the real world does that for you. All I ever did was engage. Engage in something that I know damn well was good for the both of us. A mental and spiritual connection like no other. So why the delusional attachment to this nonexistent idea of ever fleeting freedom? Why? I have no ball and chain… and even if I did why oh why would I want anyone to lug all that weight around? It defeats the purpose doesn't it? It kills the whimsy of the light feathery feeling that all this is supposed to create.
This is a plea… to all boys, guys and even men.
Please! Please, please, please!
For my sanity and the women around you.
Either man up and admit you don't want the lady in your life so she can move on and do her own thing or keep the bullshit to yourself!
I can understand. I don't want you.
I can understand I don't want this (the relationship)
I can understand I'm seeing someone else.
I can understand this has become more than I can handle right now
I can understand I'm not feeling it anymore there is no spark.
I can understand I don't see this going anywhere
but for god's sake steer clear of the wishy washy, I want you but won't commit fully but partially bullshit.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Look but dont touch
A week on a resort with only a couple of singles and a majority of old people will eventually land you in a circumstance where you share or hear stories you might not regularly hear from fresh brand spanking new friends.
And so it goes….
My girlfriends and I are hanging out at the pool feasting our eyes on the chocolate eye candy that is a member of the entertainment staff. His muscles glisten in the sun with his every movement as he leads a group of people in an aerobic workout. We just watch and simultantiously let out a sigh.
We turn around with gaga still in our eyes and our new found male friend decides to share this wonderful story:
Brand Spanking new friend: “you know I had a friend of mine that went gaga over a guy in a caribbean beach resort once”
Us: “oh yeah? And?”
Brand Spanking new friend: “well she got jiggy with him and came home with these purple spots all over her body”
Us: “She caught and STD ? ”
Brand Spanking new friend: “yeah you could say that… she went to the doctors to get checked and the doctor yelled at her.. telling her he needed to know who she slept with…. She couldn’t muster up an answer… I don’t remember she said… I was really drunk”
Us: listening intently
Brand Spanking new friend “the doctor threatened to call the police if she didn’t do better than that..frightened from his tone she explained that she’d gone on a carribean holiday.. gotten drunk and slept with one of the entertainment crew… horrified… the doctor explained that the purple spots on her body were due to a bacteria only found on dead people”
Us : UGHHHHHHH! DUDE! YOU LIE!
Brand Spanking new friend: “no lie… serious as serious can be… so do think twice before you decide on tapping that”
My friend casually looks over and goes “Ya sater ya rab.. masdoodon masdooodon masdoood? Ya3ni il wa7id maye3rafsh yetfarag 7ata?! Matfahimoo il 2akh dah inina abide by the look but don’t touch policy why the buzz kill?!”
Brand Spanking new friend: “you know I had a friend of mine that went gaga over a guy in a caribbean beach resort once”
Us: “oh yeah? And?”
Brand Spanking new friend: “well she got jiggy with him and came home with these purple spots all over her body”
Us: “She caught and STD ? ”
Brand Spanking new friend: “yeah you could say that… she went to the doctors to get checked and the doctor yelled at her.. telling her he needed to know who she slept with…. She couldn’t muster up an answer… I don’t remember she said… I was really drunk”
Us: listening intently
Brand Spanking new friend “the doctor threatened to call the police if she didn’t do better than that..frightened from his tone she explained that she’d gone on a carribean holiday.. gotten drunk and slept with one of the entertainment crew… horrified… the doctor explained that the purple spots on her body were due to a bacteria only found on dead people”
Us : UGHHHHHHH! DUDE! YOU LIE!
Brand Spanking new friend: “no lie… serious as serious can be… so do think twice before you decide on tapping that”
My friend casually looks over and goes “Ya sater ya rab.. masdoodon masdooodon masdoood? Ya3ni il wa7id maye3rafsh yetfarag 7ata?! Matfahimoo il 2akh dah inina abide by the look but don’t touch policy why the buzz kill?!”
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Come what may
I want a glance and a smile, a smirk and a giggle, hysteric laughter and stomach pains.
Let me take shelter in your arms and cradle me to sleep.
Allow your heart to beat louder than the silence and overthrow my doubt.
Be a man in all the ways a man should be.
Celebrate your masculinity by exposing the mother, the whore and the child in you.
Wear the robes of commitment and pay no attention to the weight they claim on your shoulders.
Bath me in kisses and shroud me with emotion.
Evoke a spiritual enlightenment and let us rejoice through reflection, deliberation and contemplation combined.
Surrender to the choreography of our thoughts and allow us the opportunity to dance.
Let us leave the tangible behind and let us instead inhabit an ethereal world.
Keep your riches and offer me more.
Allow me the privilege of labeling you mine.
Let me take shelter in your arms and cradle me to sleep.
Allow your heart to beat louder than the silence and overthrow my doubt.
Be a man in all the ways a man should be.
Celebrate your masculinity by exposing the mother, the whore and the child in you.
Wear the robes of commitment and pay no attention to the weight they claim on your shoulders.
Bath me in kisses and shroud me with emotion.
Evoke a spiritual enlightenment and let us rejoice through reflection, deliberation and contemplation combined.
Surrender to the choreography of our thoughts and allow us the opportunity to dance.
Let us leave the tangible behind and let us instead inhabit an ethereal world.
Keep your riches and offer me more.
Allow me the privilege of labeling you mine.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Humpty Dumpty
All the kings horses and all the kings men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty together again.
He did after all fall of the wall.
Shouldn't he have known better? i mean he's an egg and when eggs fall they break.
simple as that.
what was he doing hanging out on a wall?
sadism?
masochism?
I'm sure a good Samaritan must have seen him up there and warned him about his inevitable crash to a million pieces.
but isn't it always the case with Humpty, Harry, Joe, Alexandra and Jane?
we get distracted by the view? We know that we're walking a fine line... a wrong step in each direction invariably leads to a horrible demise.
But we do it any way, thinking we're the exception to the rule. Thinking gravity has taken a day off for some unknown reason. That this time we'll float instead of fall.
but at the end of the day... we're all alike... we're grounded and have our wings clipped. Just like poor Humpty, the egg, we're all on bound to fall.
He did after all fall of the wall.
Shouldn't he have known better? i mean he's an egg and when eggs fall they break.
simple as that.
what was he doing hanging out on a wall?
sadism?
masochism?
I'm sure a good Samaritan must have seen him up there and warned him about his inevitable crash to a million pieces.
but isn't it always the case with Humpty, Harry, Joe, Alexandra and Jane?
we get distracted by the view? We know that we're walking a fine line... a wrong step in each direction invariably leads to a horrible demise.
But we do it any way, thinking we're the exception to the rule. Thinking gravity has taken a day off for some unknown reason. That this time we'll float instead of fall.
but at the end of the day... we're all alike... we're grounded and have our wings clipped. Just like poor Humpty, the egg, we're all on bound to fall.
Monday, May 12, 2008
A bit of Waking life!
'You can't fight city hall." "Death and taxes." "Don't talk about politics or religion." This is all the equivalent of enemy propaganda, rolling across the picket line. "Lay down, GI! Lay down, GI!". We saw it all through the 20th Century. And now on the 21st Century, it's time to stand up and realize, that we should NOT allow ourselves to be crammed into this rat maze. We should not SUBMIT to dehumanization. I don't know about you, but I'm concerned with what's happening in this world. I'm concerned with the structure. I'm concerned with the systems of control. Those that control my life, and those that seek to control it EVEN MORE! I want FREEDOM! That's what I want, and that's what YOU should want! It's up to each and every one of us to turn loose of just some of the greed, the hatred, the envy, and yes, the insecurities, because that is the central mode of control, make us feel pathetic, small, so we'll willingly give up our sovereignty, our liberty, our destiny. We have GOT to realize we're being conditioned on a mass scale. Start challenging this corporate slave state! The 21st Century's gonna be a new century! Not the century of slavery, not the century of lies and issues of no significance, of classism and statism, and all the rest of the modes of control... it's gonna be the age of humankind, standing up for something PURE and something RIGHT! What a bunch of garbage, liberal, Democratic, conservative, Republican, it's all there to control you, two sides of the same coin! Two management teams, bidding for control of the CEO job of Slavery Incorporated! The TRUTH is out there in front of you, but they lay out this buffet of LIES! I'm SICK of it, and I'M NOT GONNA TAKE A BITE OUT OF IT! DO YA GOT ME? Resistance is NOT futile, we're gonna win this thing, humankind is too good, WE'RE NOT A BUNCH OF UNDERACHIEVERS, WE'RE GONNA STAND UP, AND WE'RE GONNA BE HUMAN BEINGS! WE'RE GONNA GET FIRED UP ABOUT THE REAL THINGS, THE THINGS THAT MATTER - CREATIVITY, AND THE *DYNAMIC* *HUMAN* *SPIRIT* THAT REFUSES TO *SUBMIT*! WELL THAT'S IT, that's all I've got to say. It's in your court now. "
Monday, May 05, 2008
The Name Game
I watched the movie Bella a short while ago… and though the movie was total flop in my opinion.. it had me thinking a little when a movie character, who for the most part, looked a lot like Jesus…provoked the naughty in me and filled my brain with not so innocent thoughts.
Am I the only one who thinks that the use of names like Islam, Christian, Mohamed and Jesus should be outlawed? Seriously, what are these parents thinking when they choose them for their new bundles of joy?
Talk about feeling like they have huge shoes to fill…. with a name like that how can a kid dream of being a Lawyer or a doctor? Their only option is that of Saint really. Though it could be argued that being a fireman in a metaphorical sense could quintessentially amount to the the same thing. :P
But really there are many complications…..
What of dirty talk? For the most part we recognize that we do enough shitty things in our day to day lives to heap up enough wrath without necessarily adding blasphemy to the mix why would anyone in their right mind want to get jiggy with an Islam?
Not only that but the name places restrictions on the parents as well.. How many times have we heard our mothers, no matter how pleasant, in a moment of frustration and zero patience say something of a derogatory nature in reference to the father? Huh huh?
And what if little Christian develops a little bullying habit in the playground?
‘Mrs Mrs Mrs that Christian boy stole my lunch money again’
Anyways, long story short I seriously think all those mother’s to be and fathers in waiting should re-think the whole religious name thing. It's totally uncool!
Am I the only one who thinks that the use of names like Islam, Christian, Mohamed and Jesus should be outlawed? Seriously, what are these parents thinking when they choose them for their new bundles of joy?
Talk about feeling like they have huge shoes to fill…. with a name like that how can a kid dream of being a Lawyer or a doctor? Their only option is that of Saint really. Though it could be argued that being a fireman in a metaphorical sense could quintessentially amount to the the same thing. :P
But really there are many complications…..
What of dirty talk? For the most part we recognize that we do enough shitty things in our day to day lives to heap up enough wrath without necessarily adding blasphemy to the mix why would anyone in their right mind want to get jiggy with an Islam?
Not only that but the name places restrictions on the parents as well.. How many times have we heard our mothers, no matter how pleasant, in a moment of frustration and zero patience say something of a derogatory nature in reference to the father? Huh huh?
And what if little Christian develops a little bullying habit in the playground?
‘Mrs Mrs Mrs that Christian boy stole my lunch money again’
Anyways, long story short I seriously think all those mother’s to be and fathers in waiting should re-think the whole religious name thing. It's totally uncool!
Friday, April 25, 2008
Behold! A King is born.
At night, the scorching sun, that over powers the air and is slave to no one but its glorious magnificence, is fast asleep.
It is only then, in its absence, that the sea dares to become king.
The waves roll higher and crash louder. They command an authority previously etiolated by their secondary role to the sun. All the while, the infinite vastness of the canvas that is the sky, has been reduced to a mere spectator adorned with stars. It is a thick blanket with just enough holes in it to allow the vivid light of heaven to shine through.
The sand, previously hard at work to stay grounded, succumbs to an evening of dancing inspired by a saucier, cheekier, rhythm divine produced by the waves. The air an assistant and carrier of the amplified sound through the cool night air. The sand mingles with seashells and welcomes all that has fallen from the glorious new king’s grace.
Awakened by all the chaos, the sun stretches its rays of light. Forcing the night blue sky to morph into a spectrum of color as a form of remorse for its poor behavior. The sun expels the moon and beseeches it to return when it is summoned once again at sunset. The order of the day that was once abandoned by all except the sleeping sun is now restored.
It is only then, in its absence, that the sea dares to become king.
The waves roll higher and crash louder. They command an authority previously etiolated by their secondary role to the sun. All the while, the infinite vastness of the canvas that is the sky, has been reduced to a mere spectator adorned with stars. It is a thick blanket with just enough holes in it to allow the vivid light of heaven to shine through.
The sand, previously hard at work to stay grounded, succumbs to an evening of dancing inspired by a saucier, cheekier, rhythm divine produced by the waves. The air an assistant and carrier of the amplified sound through the cool night air. The sand mingles with seashells and welcomes all that has fallen from the glorious new king’s grace.
Awakened by all the chaos, the sun stretches its rays of light. Forcing the night blue sky to morph into a spectrum of color as a form of remorse for its poor behavior. The sun expels the moon and beseeches it to return when it is summoned once again at sunset. The order of the day that was once abandoned by all except the sleeping sun is now restored.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Off the rocker
Its easier to count time when you’re on the beat.. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and…
My newest fetish is Billy talent’s suffering… I heard it once and for the life of me couldn’t figure out what the appeal was…
The lyrics are the usual teen melodrama and the tune not at all that catchy…
But then as I was humming the tune and tapping my hand on the side of my car out of the window it occurred to me! I was thin slicing, as Malcom Gladwell puts it.
My brain was drowning out the words and the fact that the lead singer doesn’t have much of a voice and was captivated by the off beats!
There’s never enough music based on the offbeat!
And often enough, if it’s done inappropriately the listener is left feeling like the melody is rushed or like someone missed a queue somewhere.
So I must give it to them!
Billy might just have some talent after all.
My newest fetish is Billy talent’s suffering… I heard it once and for the life of me couldn’t figure out what the appeal was…
The lyrics are the usual teen melodrama and the tune not at all that catchy…
But then as I was humming the tune and tapping my hand on the side of my car out of the window it occurred to me! I was thin slicing, as Malcom Gladwell puts it.
My brain was drowning out the words and the fact that the lead singer doesn’t have much of a voice and was captivated by the off beats!
There’s never enough music based on the offbeat!
And often enough, if it’s done inappropriately the listener is left feeling like the melody is rushed or like someone missed a queue somewhere.
So I must give it to them!
Billy might just have some talent after all.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Who am I
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
~Marianne Williamson~
~Marianne Williamson~
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance... our long way home.
I was always yours to have. You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
God...how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out of time. ~Maya Angelou~
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance... our long way home.
I was always yours to have. You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out of time.
When the first stone looked up at the blazing sun
and the first tree struggled up from the forest floor
I had always loved you more.
You freed your braids...
gave your hair to the breeze.
It hummed like a hive of honey bees.
I reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there....
God...how I love your hair.
You saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.
Lost, injured, hurt by chance.
I screamed to the heavens....loudly screamed....
Trying to change our nightmares to dreams...
The sun has come.
The mist has gone.
We see in the distance our long way home.
I was always yours to have.
You were always mine.
We have loved each other in and out
in and out
in and out of time. ~Maya Angelou~
Saturday, April 05, 2008
Cuba..... Que Linda.....
I indulge in the glory of now. There is a serenity comfortably grounded at the bottom of my soul. the warm water caresses my feet and tickles my toes. The surf brings with it random thoughts that....
manifest...
linger...
digress...
and manifest again..
lingering just long enough for the water to surround my ankles gently reminding me to let go.
The regression of each and every wave allows for the rebirth of a new thought.... they take with them my meanderings and the traces of the foot steps that once painted my momentary existence on the shore.
A symphony of sound that begins and ends with the breaking of a wave and crescendos with the collision of water upon water.
A rushing towards the shore.....
a subtler retreat and
another crash of water. Every cycle brings with it a new beginning and a brand new clean slate. An opportunity to reinvent myself with more footsteps..... a momentary existence. A re emergence of a different me.
The collision of water upon water again..
a rushing towards the shore...
the eradication of my fluid presence
a subtle retreat.....
and another crash of water.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
tea anyone?
It is the toothpicks with olives on them holding together a perfectly triangular whole wheat sandwich that are my muses this morning. I developed a mini obsession with the need to get the hummus sprinkled with sama2 in the perfect spiral formation over the weekend. Before serving it I looked at it and smirked to myself with jubilant glee.
Visuals of cooking competitions and chefs serving French cuisine consumed my reality and helped me get past the fact that I was in fact a French maid sans the French, the sexy outfit or a pay for that matter. I floated on air serving hors d’oeuvres here and there and picking up china with traces of what was once upon a time something pretty and yummy waiting to satiate someone’s hunger. I so frivolously felt like an elite epicurean. The perfect sprinkle of basil here and the right amount of illustrious chocolate drizzle there are what set my taste buds apart from the masses’.
But unfortunately my fanciful daydreaming and my buzz from the salad garnished with radish flowers was quickly heading for FUBAR status as an 8 year old boy no taller than my waist looked at me with “I am the man you must obey me” eyes and waived his finger in the air to indicate 2 scoops of sugar, and demanding in a demeaning voice“don’t forget to add milk into it so you don’t burn my tongue like you did the last time” I pause for a second and waive him off with a “you’re so funny little man.. you almost had me going there for a second” to which he promptly responded “ why would I be funny. I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it. Now go make it.” And he turns his back and walks away with a confidence that rubbed me the wrong way. He plops himself comfortably next to his mother, placing a hand on her knee waiting for a signal... some form of acknowledgement or reassurance. She’s in the middle of a conversation, doesn’t look at him but gives him what he’s waiting for by putting her hand on top of his. It was only then that he smiled. The way, I imagine, the devil did when he finally convinced Eve to eat from the forbidden fruit. It’s a condescending “I now own your soul” smile. His strategic positioning had granted him immunity. The little runt could barely see over the counter but was coyer than coy. He, like a general planning strategy for a war, hand carefully thought this through and now was smug with joy waiting to reap the rewards of his intellect and planning. I, perfectly aware of this little miscalculation on my part, wanted to reach down this throat, grab his balls, pull them through his mouth making him curl up just to accommodate the logistics of it all. I wanted to slam his jaw shut over them to hold them in place and consequently force him to roll everywhere like a tire. I knew exactly what the circling animated stars around his little football of a head would look like dancing to the song of a coocoo clock as his pea brain registered the pain. And if that was a little too graphic then a slap aside the head would’ve sufficed. It would be a mercy killing really… A quick decapitation. Time would slow down and the pretty red splatter of his blood would create crimson spirals in the air as they project onto the walls around him. but luckily for him… the screeching sounds of my vinyl conscience quickly stepped in to fend for the mini me version of his dictator of a father.
‘It’s not his fault… just cuz he hasn’t hit the double digits yet doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the right to drink his tea the way he wants it….children are sponges sandy they just mimic what they see at home…. and really mimicry is the highest form of flattery… so if anything this action just tells you how much he loves his father….its all just a reiteration of the beauty and love that children possess… and plus you’re already serving the tea anyways maybe you’re just on edge from all the waiting on people you’ve been doing today’
At which point the evil me surfaces and knocks out my conscience accompanied by a musical interlude labled “hahahhaha wipe out” .
“WTF!?!? Not only are you putting up with this kind of behavior but you’re defending it as well?! this little piece of toilet decoration hasn’t even mastered the art of riding a bike yet and has the audacity to tell you to make him tea?! Who drinks tea at his age anyways? Doesn’t it like stunt his growth or something? Shouldn’t his oh so typically arab father be worried about his son’s sperm count?! What of the family legacy? What would be said of him in the history books? "he was unable to have children due to lazy swimmers?" But then again maybe you’re doing the world a favor by fast tracking his impotence a cause de caffeine thereby contributing to his inability to procreate in the distant future. “SANDY SAVES THE WORLD BY ERADICATING ONE MALE SHOVANIST AT A TIME“ Of course the headlines would have a lot more of an impact if sandy could infact actually correctly spell chauvinist.
Visuals of cooking competitions and chefs serving French cuisine consumed my reality and helped me get past the fact that I was in fact a French maid sans the French, the sexy outfit or a pay for that matter. I floated on air serving hors d’oeuvres here and there and picking up china with traces of what was once upon a time something pretty and yummy waiting to satiate someone’s hunger. I so frivolously felt like an elite epicurean. The perfect sprinkle of basil here and the right amount of illustrious chocolate drizzle there are what set my taste buds apart from the masses’.
But unfortunately my fanciful daydreaming and my buzz from the salad garnished with radish flowers was quickly heading for FUBAR status as an 8 year old boy no taller than my waist looked at me with “I am the man you must obey me” eyes and waived his finger in the air to indicate 2 scoops of sugar, and demanding in a demeaning voice“don’t forget to add milk into it so you don’t burn my tongue like you did the last time” I pause for a second and waive him off with a “you’re so funny little man.. you almost had me going there for a second” to which he promptly responded “ why would I be funny. I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it. Now go make it.” And he turns his back and walks away with a confidence that rubbed me the wrong way. He plops himself comfortably next to his mother, placing a hand on her knee waiting for a signal... some form of acknowledgement or reassurance. She’s in the middle of a conversation, doesn’t look at him but gives him what he’s waiting for by putting her hand on top of his. It was only then that he smiled. The way, I imagine, the devil did when he finally convinced Eve to eat from the forbidden fruit. It’s a condescending “I now own your soul” smile. His strategic positioning had granted him immunity. The little runt could barely see over the counter but was coyer than coy. He, like a general planning strategy for a war, hand carefully thought this through and now was smug with joy waiting to reap the rewards of his intellect and planning. I, perfectly aware of this little miscalculation on my part, wanted to reach down this throat, grab his balls, pull them through his mouth making him curl up just to accommodate the logistics of it all. I wanted to slam his jaw shut over them to hold them in place and consequently force him to roll everywhere like a tire. I knew exactly what the circling animated stars around his little football of a head would look like dancing to the song of a coocoo clock as his pea brain registered the pain. And if that was a little too graphic then a slap aside the head would’ve sufficed. It would be a mercy killing really… A quick decapitation. Time would slow down and the pretty red splatter of his blood would create crimson spirals in the air as they project onto the walls around him. but luckily for him… the screeching sounds of my vinyl conscience quickly stepped in to fend for the mini me version of his dictator of a father.
‘It’s not his fault… just cuz he hasn’t hit the double digits yet doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the right to drink his tea the way he wants it….children are sponges sandy they just mimic what they see at home…. and really mimicry is the highest form of flattery… so if anything this action just tells you how much he loves his father….its all just a reiteration of the beauty and love that children possess… and plus you’re already serving the tea anyways maybe you’re just on edge from all the waiting on people you’ve been doing today’
At which point the evil me surfaces and knocks out my conscience accompanied by a musical interlude labled “hahahhaha wipe out” .
“WTF!?!? Not only are you putting up with this kind of behavior but you’re defending it as well?! this little piece of toilet decoration hasn’t even mastered the art of riding a bike yet and has the audacity to tell you to make him tea?! Who drinks tea at his age anyways? Doesn’t it like stunt his growth or something? Shouldn’t his oh so typically arab father be worried about his son’s sperm count?! What of the family legacy? What would be said of him in the history books? "he was unable to have children due to lazy swimmers?" But then again maybe you’re doing the world a favor by fast tracking his impotence a cause de caffeine thereby contributing to his inability to procreate in the distant future. “SANDY SAVES THE WORLD BY ERADICATING ONE MALE SHOVANIST AT A TIME“ Of course the headlines would have a lot more of an impact if sandy could infact actually correctly spell chauvinist.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
This was taken during a winter festival called Nights of fire presented by a French fire troupe called cie Carabosse in Toronto.
This young gay couple caught my eye because of their expressive body language, awkward giggles and flirty glances. There was something intriguing and captivating about them. It wasn’t so much the idea that they were homosexual but that they symbolized the idea of possibility, the ever illusive notion of love, a phenomenon that transgressed the nature of relationships, heterosexual and homosexual couples alike. Anyone who has ever been in love can identify with the feeling, the rawness of a relationship, the want and hope for it to progress and the dance that revolves around the circumstance of courtship.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Big fish little fish
Will someone please please please line up the Egyptian soccer team and slap them silly for what just happened?!
HOW oh HOW do we, by we I mean the collective whole of Eygpt, its spectators and wanna be players, beat Sudan… an up and coming soon to be great team andddddddddd
FREAKING CAMEROOON….
Yeah that’s right I said FREAKING CAMEROON but only manage a tie with Zambia?
Zambia people! Zambia!
I’m peeved beyond recognition… It was like watching a monkey try to get a square peg in a round hole! This is what we always do. We beat the hardcore teams… give it our all and then fuck up the little fish… I mean really Zambia is a freaking Sardine compared to Cameroon… or Sudan
Tell me What happens when we meet the big beluga called Ghana?! Or Cote d’Ivoire?
ARGHHHHHHHH…
Meh… sillyness aside I will give Zambian dude mad props for the full fledged gymnastics act he pulled after scoring the goal. How do people jump that high without being attached to a wire suspended from up above? He had some major crouching tiger hidden dragon action going on! It was like a spring exploded in his backside propelling the glistening chocolate brown jack in the boxe into the abyss. Cartwheel after back flip after back flip after back flip and then a grand finale of a ten foot summersault in the air!
Forget trampolines at the local circus.... bring the Zambians!
HOW oh HOW do we, by we I mean the collective whole of Eygpt, its spectators and wanna be players, beat Sudan… an up and coming soon to be great team andddddddddd
FREAKING CAMEROOON….
Yeah that’s right I said FREAKING CAMEROON but only manage a tie with Zambia?
Zambia people! Zambia!
I’m peeved beyond recognition… It was like watching a monkey try to get a square peg in a round hole! This is what we always do. We beat the hardcore teams… give it our all and then fuck up the little fish… I mean really Zambia is a freaking Sardine compared to Cameroon… or Sudan
Tell me What happens when we meet the big beluga called Ghana?! Or Cote d’Ivoire?
ARGHHHHHHHH…
Meh… sillyness aside I will give Zambian dude mad props for the full fledged gymnastics act he pulled after scoring the goal. How do people jump that high without being attached to a wire suspended from up above? He had some major crouching tiger hidden dragon action going on! It was like a spring exploded in his backside propelling the glistening chocolate brown jack in the boxe into the abyss. Cartwheel after back flip after back flip after back flip and then a grand finale of a ten foot summersault in the air!
Forget trampolines at the local circus.... bring the Zambians!
The Suburban Disease
There’s this deep routed disease you particularly find in quaint little suburban towns that city people can’t seem to comprehend. It’s a phenomenon that seeps into the veins of its inhabitants and one breath at a time transforms lives. It’s a subtle take over marked by nothing hostile, stark or intrusive but it eventually causes the suburbanite to turn against everything that makes her who she is. This disease is called mediocrity. Having just enough means to sit comfortably in a state of limbo but falling short of enough to achieve greatness. The routine goes as follows
work on weekdays.. for about 8 hours
Nap after work for about an hour
Dinner and clean up about another hour and a half which brings us to 7 or 8 pm…
do a little studying on the side but mostly day dream in front of the books and eventually realize there is no point and so focus on white noise.
A white noise the compromises, for the most part, of meaningless gatherings, movies and books that provoke ZERO thought.
The words I NEED a new blah blah are now common place. And that thought… catching yourself thinking that way… trying to trick yourself into needing something just to give yourself a sense of purpose… well its pathetic…. Not only because it’s a fake sense of security and a flimsy attempt at avoiding to see the scream out loud fact that you are a waste of space and more importantly a decent amount of non perishable food substances that could potentially save an orphan or two but also because when you buy these lame things you try and find joy in them when you despise shopping. What’s to be said about a person who tries to force herself into superficiality. What’s to be said about a person who tries to convince herself that these things make millions happy everyday and so the flaw must be in her way of thinking… that there must be joy in them if only she were to look hard enough. To see myself slipping into that mentality is a frightening symptom… A symptom of the “The this is my life its comfortable and happy” disease. The “I don’t want more disease…” The “I’m bigger than wanting …” “ there is not point to any of it” disease. And while I can agree that to most it is a blessing I should be thankful for In my case I’m thinking its starting to become a shift from satisfaction to statusfucktion. And when the light bulb goes off and you see this its like you’re left feeling like you are the reason for your unhappiness. An internal struggle. You potentially have it in you to do whatever it is you want to do. But the question is… what do you want to do? Where is the passion? Where are the things that will make you want to get up in the morning and how do you find them? But because you have an ok thing going… a decent job, a reasonable social life, a family that loves you and a routine.. you wait…You wait for Godot to come and guide you… but Godot doesn’t come and you don’t toss it all in the air and take a leap of faith… So you’re stuck in an infinite state of suspended limbo. Neither here nor there and let the disease take you over. You succumb to it. And soon enough you’re just a shell or a skeleton of who you once were. And chances are… IF and when Godot comes… you’ll make excuses… a million reasons why you have a good thing just right here.
work on weekdays.. for about 8 hours
Nap after work for about an hour
Dinner and clean up about another hour and a half which brings us to 7 or 8 pm…
do a little studying on the side but mostly day dream in front of the books and eventually realize there is no point and so focus on white noise.
A white noise the compromises, for the most part, of meaningless gatherings, movies and books that provoke ZERO thought.
The words I NEED a new blah blah are now common place. And that thought… catching yourself thinking that way… trying to trick yourself into needing something just to give yourself a sense of purpose… well its pathetic…. Not only because it’s a fake sense of security and a flimsy attempt at avoiding to see the scream out loud fact that you are a waste of space and more importantly a decent amount of non perishable food substances that could potentially save an orphan or two but also because when you buy these lame things you try and find joy in them when you despise shopping. What’s to be said about a person who tries to force herself into superficiality. What’s to be said about a person who tries to convince herself that these things make millions happy everyday and so the flaw must be in her way of thinking… that there must be joy in them if only she were to look hard enough. To see myself slipping into that mentality is a frightening symptom… A symptom of the “The this is my life its comfortable and happy” disease. The “I don’t want more disease…” The “I’m bigger than wanting …” “ there is not point to any of it” disease. And while I can agree that to most it is a blessing I should be thankful for In my case I’m thinking its starting to become a shift from satisfaction to statusfucktion. And when the light bulb goes off and you see this its like you’re left feeling like you are the reason for your unhappiness. An internal struggle. You potentially have it in you to do whatever it is you want to do. But the question is… what do you want to do? Where is the passion? Where are the things that will make you want to get up in the morning and how do you find them? But because you have an ok thing going… a decent job, a reasonable social life, a family that loves you and a routine.. you wait…You wait for Godot to come and guide you… but Godot doesn’t come and you don’t toss it all in the air and take a leap of faith… So you’re stuck in an infinite state of suspended limbo. Neither here nor there and let the disease take you over. You succumb to it. And soon enough you’re just a shell or a skeleton of who you once were. And chances are… IF and when Godot comes… you’ll make excuses… a million reasons why you have a good thing just right here.
Friday, January 18, 2008
The land mark forum
A friend of mine suggested I attend The land mark forum which seems to have completely transformed him into a happy bubbly less self analytical guy. I obliged and went to experience and explore with an open mind and heart and possibly become enlightened. I tried my best not to be skeptical until I started to feel like it was one big huge marketing plan… it almost sounded like they were saying “sign up and forget drugs sex and alcohol.. what you want is happiness… and we have it but question is… how much are you willing to pay for it?” And well as soon as I made that connection there was no hope. It was like the American Embargo against Cuba had positioned itself right between what was being presented and my brain. I couldn’t take what they were saying seriously but alas before fort Knox became secure I took, two things with me and arrived at another two pretty big revelations:
1) There are things you know and there are things you don’t know.
There are things you know that you don’t know but there are also things you don’t know you don’t know.
2) Think of all the things you want to accomplish. Lets say… Career fulfillment. And think of how that would make you feel if you got it. Lets say it would make you feel accomplished.. now think of what would happen if in your mind you threw out the necessity of having a good job in order to feel that way and went straight to the feeling accomplished… wouldn’t that in turn make finding a good job a more pleasant experience and also be a great source of motivation and energy?
[Enter sigh and day dreaming thoughts commence]
3) What if someone told you that you are the shackles on your mind. You are what allows your mind to see more experience more and feel more. What if you became conscious of the fact that you’re constantly trying to mould and fit your mentality into a predefined box and then made a consciencious effort to break free of that mentality. What would you be able to accomplish? The answer would be anything. Impossible is nothing and everything is possible.
4)Be open minded and open to all but be weary that too much open mindedness can have your brains fall out. i.e a search for truth means no boundaries but no boundaries mean you can reach any conclusion… what if you are unable to process that truth?
1) There are things you know and there are things you don’t know.
There are things you know that you don’t know but there are also things you don’t know you don’t know.
2) Think of all the things you want to accomplish. Lets say… Career fulfillment. And think of how that would make you feel if you got it. Lets say it would make you feel accomplished.. now think of what would happen if in your mind you threw out the necessity of having a good job in order to feel that way and went straight to the feeling accomplished… wouldn’t that in turn make finding a good job a more pleasant experience and also be a great source of motivation and energy?
[Enter sigh and day dreaming thoughts commence]
3) What if someone told you that you are the shackles on your mind. You are what allows your mind to see more experience more and feel more. What if you became conscious of the fact that you’re constantly trying to mould and fit your mentality into a predefined box and then made a consciencious effort to break free of that mentality. What would you be able to accomplish? The answer would be anything. Impossible is nothing and everything is possible.
4)Be open minded and open to all but be weary that too much open mindedness can have your brains fall out. i.e a search for truth means no boundaries but no boundaries mean you can reach any conclusion… what if you are unable to process that truth?
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Rest in reason and move in Passion
‘Your soul is oftentimes a battle field, upon which your reason and your
judgment wage war against your passion and your appetite. Would that I could be
the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of
your elements into oneness and melody. But how shall I unless you yourselves be
also the peacemaker nay the lovers of your elements?
Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul.
If either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas.
For reason ruling alone is a force confining and
passion unattended is a flame that burns to its own destruction.Therefore let
your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion that it may sing and let it
direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own
daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes.
I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two
loves guests in your house.
Surely you would not honor one guest above the
other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of
both.
Among the hills when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars
sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadow then let your heart
say in silence ‘god rests in reason”
And when the storm comes, and the mighty
wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lighting proclaim the majesty of the
sky. Then let your heart say in awe ‘god moves in passion’
And since you are a breath in god’s sphere and a leave in god’s forest you too should rest in reason and move in passion.’
~Gibran khalil gibran's The Prophet
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