Brandishing a scimitar, I swath and swerve through the jungle, looking for signs of colored ribbon and long stretches of time coded memories that can be easily unlocked if you know what buttons to push and by the size and inertia of your hands that press against me I just might talk, laugh, or cough from my nagging pneumonia that never goes away, but simply sets like the sun only to show up during the next full revolution of my world which is 40 times the size of Earth, but with far fewer people and far more beautiful monsters that will lick you until your skin comes off, further still, licking to the bone, further still to the marrow and into my blood stream, tasting my salt for their wounds inflicted by glances and slight thoughts that are slivered and cast away as fast as a lash lashing into itself below the iris that grows alone on the edge of a fish pond that all the little fishes and wandering wishes stare up through the water, through the algae, through protozoa breathing and fucking their way to immortality, at least that's what they believe and if you believe, you're half way there, just don't use mathematics or you'll never get there, you must let the numbers go and latch on to the symbols the numbers could never actually touch, from there they'll show you the heart, not just the cum filled Kleenex of formulas gone South, but the means of creating the cum and all it's glory and power before it hits the ground and becomes disseminated amongst all the other seeds of the Earth that will rise up to be cut on the edge of a blade, the blade I and other wield with frenetic frenzy and fervor that my friend and stranger Klaus Kinsky would be proud of and then he'd scream and tell me to fuck off and leave him alone...
The Black Forest
Random blaghness...
Created to Create, Create To Be Created...
God created the Night so beautiful that lovers could never sleep during it. God created the Day so bright that the lovers would have to get up and go outside only to wait for Night to come again...
I like this thought. True? Who's to say? Perhaps like most things, it is partially true. Five percent maybe, but I'll take that five percent! I like where it takes my mind.
The universal collective consciousness of everything is hard to personify. It is so much easier to say God. To make God want and do human-like things. For Him/Her to be romantic, vengeful, and forgiving. Yes...much more poetic. In a way, from my limited knowledge and life-experience, it may be true.
That all life eventually joins a collective consciousness. Good, bad, positive and negative energy in the same cloud. What we give it, adds to itself. All knowledge and experience of every living thing in the universe...this has a power, an affect to everything. Not a Will per se, but an affect to beings with the like energy inside them.
Yes, "God" is a little like us, because it's what we give to Him/Her.
I belong to no organized religion. I do not profess to have THE ANSWER. Nor want/need to convert a single being to my way of thinking. I have no judgment.
My life purpose is to create and connect. To remind as many people as I can that we are all connected. Connected to everything. Creating romanticism, hope, passion, the celebration of being the earthly human...and everything that comes with it. Illuminating our profane darkness and hidden thoughts, I find cathartic. Acknowledging its existence lends to a deeper understanding of ourselves...and to know ourselves is to know a little more of God...the source...the Great Om...the Universal Collective Consciousness...whatever name you give it, symbol you put on your necklace, bumper sticker, if you keep it hidden in the closet of your mind, your keychain or put on masturbatory blogs such as this.
God created the Night so beautiful that lovers could never sleep during it. God created the Day so bright that the lovers would have to get up and go outside only to wait for Night to come again...
Night will be here soon.
I like this thought. True? Who's to say? Perhaps like most things, it is partially true. Five percent maybe, but I'll take that five percent! I like where it takes my mind.
The universal collective consciousness of everything is hard to personify. It is so much easier to say God. To make God want and do human-like things. For Him/Her to be romantic, vengeful, and forgiving. Yes...much more poetic. In a way, from my limited knowledge and life-experience, it may be true.
That all life eventually joins a collective consciousness. Good, bad, positive and negative energy in the same cloud. What we give it, adds to itself. All knowledge and experience of every living thing in the universe...this has a power, an affect to everything. Not a Will per se, but an affect to beings with the like energy inside them.
Yes, "God" is a little like us, because it's what we give to Him/Her.
I belong to no organized religion. I do not profess to have THE ANSWER. Nor want/need to convert a single being to my way of thinking. I have no judgment.
My life purpose is to create and connect. To remind as many people as I can that we are all connected. Connected to everything. Creating romanticism, hope, passion, the celebration of being the earthly human...and everything that comes with it. Illuminating our profane darkness and hidden thoughts, I find cathartic. Acknowledging its existence lends to a deeper understanding of ourselves...and to know ourselves is to know a little more of God...the source...the Great Om...the Universal Collective Consciousness...whatever name you give it, symbol you put on your necklace, bumper sticker, if you keep it hidden in the closet of your mind, your keychain or put on masturbatory blogs such as this.
God created the Night so beautiful that lovers could never sleep during it. God created the Day so bright that the lovers would have to get up and go outside only to wait for Night to come again...
Night will be here soon.
Good Enough to Forget...
When you're lucky...when the light shines through the clouds, through the passing airplane's window, the dust, smog, bouncing off the teeth of someone's smile, your dirty shades and into your closed eyes...you'll forget everything in this great and glorious moment...
Ummmmm...what was I saying?
Ummmmm...what was I saying?
Sent from the Black Forest...
Underneath the Clouds...
Underneath the clouds I stand, my spine grows into the ground and out a blade of grass for a fly to tickle on its way to fresh and steamy animal droppings, fecund with larvae that grows up to beat their kids and drink themselves drunk on nectar collected from hummingbirds that beat their hearts fast enough to live a thousand lifetimes and love ten thousand lovers each in their own favorite sexual position and sounds they make when they come into and all over the knowledge they share, connected forever in a mirror facing another mirror showing exact and not so exact images of what we were and never what we are, because it can't be shown in a picture but in a taste, tasty licks of the honey of being known, known and still wanted, wanted like a hunger, an itch given by a blue and yellow mosquito that takes you and gives a little of itself back, it's disease, it's dirty fingerprint on a window that will be washed off by a homeless person looking for a handout to take the last midnight Night Train bottle from the thank heaven it's 7-eleven store owned by a hard working family from Jakarta whose family were well known elephant trackers in their local region where their great-great-grandfather was born in an elephant cemetery and before he died, made the great long walk to where he was born to mix his bones with other elephants, antelope and tigers and bears licking the marrow from broken scapulas that were bashed against the rocks to remember the sound of making, the sound of creating, the sounds of pelvis to pelvis collision of the fourth kind, of abduction, of stolen moments of bliss from the incessant pounding of monotony that rises up to the sky like a spilled cup of tea, a tea of souls that lives in our skin cups, say skin-cups seven times fast and I'll give you a brown bag to breathe into for 2 minutes, 2 minutes saved from tippy-tapping on your phone instead avoiding the real questions, the real answers to the reason why we need all this noise and deception to stop us from knowing why we are...
Sent from the Black Forest...
Mateus Bottles and Colored Melted Wax...
Being born in 1967 I grew up a child of the 70's. Empty Mateus bottles turned into candle holders with multi-colored candle sticks bought from Spencer's Gifts, incense, blacklight posters of black panthers in trees, macramé plant holders, vinyl records, color t.v.'s, flashy cars with chrome and leather couches as seats, bell-bottom jeans, Herbal Essence Shampoo, Goody combs with the big handles sticking out of your back pocket, 8-track boom boxes, Polaroid Insta-Matics, really straight hair or curlalicious fro's, cassette mix tapes, CB radios, bubblegum baseball trading cards of the Oakland A's Billy Martin's Mustache Gang, Hot Wheels, water rockets, dune buggies, and M-80's to blow up mailboxes of the grumpy old men telling us to get off their yard...
Did I mention phones or computers? Nope. A phone was a quick call to meet up somewhere and a computer was something the government had.
This will not be some "When I was a kid we walked in the snow 40 miles to school and we were THANKFUL we could!" kinda crap. We are in a new age. A new revolution. The digital age is here. Like when the industrial age showed up, many jobs were lost because they were replaced by machines. We had to make up new jobs, new ways of doing things, new ways of life. It's that time again. A refresh button on the world.
My greatest hope is that we can change from being a wasteful society to a useful one. Reuse not refuse. Creation not destruction. Upgrade not throwaway. Connection not separation. Understanding not ignorance.
Time will tell. Eventually another revolution will come and wipe away what is now into a yellowed memory. Until then I'm gonna grab a pillow, lay on my wooden floor and put on my "Hot Buttered Soul" album by Issac Hayes and listen to him talk for 8 minutes before he even sings "By the Time I Get to Phoenix"...