Goal
Goal for my 30s - awakening my inner shaman buddha jesus mohammed krishna.
The Invisible Hand Exists Collectively
A catalogue of words, mostly mine, some not.
Goal for my 30s - awakening my inner shaman buddha jesus mohammed krishna.
You are staring at a computer screen reading this.
What do you expect to see? Something perhaps. Excitement? Fun? Adventure? Something really gross? Something really pretty? Something pretty ugly?
The first thing you must do is, make a choice.
Coming to terms with who I am
What I am ever-changing to be
What is that?
Coming to terms with my own mortality and at the same time with the
eternity of my being, my core
I can no longer hide behind insecurities of my past
but it doesn't mean that they are dead for good
Especially at this moment where I feel slightly vulnerable and uncertain
I am riding in and sailing above the dark tunnel at the same time
If I had a choice, no one would get hurt in the matter.
But in trying to prevent any added stress, I have taken it all upon myself.
It's not going to be my choice how other people react.
And it's not in my control that people can't magically see my point of view and understand my feelings.
But I will try my damnest to do it with love and compassion.
But even so, it can't stop the flood of emotions that might rip a person apart from the inside.
I only hope that everyone can find themselves on the other side, grateful for what has been gained.
Of all writings I love only that which is written with blood. Write with blood: and you will discover that blood is spirit.
It is not an easy thing to understand unfamiliar blood: I hate the reading idler.
He who knows the reader, does nothing further for the reader. Another century of readers - and spirit itself will stink.
That everyone can learn to read will ruin in the long run not only writing, but thinking too.
Once spirit was God, then it became man, and now it is even becoming mob.
To be aware of a very possible mass extinction of the human species brought on by the human species makes me sick to my stomach. Going down, down, killing ourselves because we are controlled by money and false power. False power destroys us. I stare into the world as though it were my last viewing. My only reason to live is for the beauty in all. Beauty in destruction? Perhaps so, but it should not be so unconscious as it is. Unconscious destruction for the sake of ego preservation is not beauty.
The apocalypse, the great spiritual awakening, timewave zero, the winter solstice. Those are the various different events attributed to 21 December 2012. They are so varied, that the only conclusion I can come is that none will happen (except the winter solstice which is a pretty established event that takes place every year).
What the heck is happening? Oh, not much. Shit though, look at the mouse over there, what a stinker. He has it good.
>>>>HI<<<<
The tide pulled me under and I was forced to live with some underwater moss gnomes. Now they have finally let me go. I came out realizing that my webpage needs to be updated badly. But for now all I have done is a picture page with some pictures from England. enjoy.
Eighty Hispanics surround twenty white men.
The horns of the mariachis overwhelm, their eyes penetrate.
Two miles ahead lie high priced upper-middle class homes, a starbucks, two blocks down another starbucks.
I feel claustrophobic in my mother’s Sun Valley home.
I am in the heart of an industrial heaven. Grey surrounds my peripheral and the smokey wastes of progress saturate the air.
I want to leave the house, but its like moving in molasses.
Innocence never was
Innocence can always be
Manipulating desire
Unending love
Tied to the poles
Untainted peach stained by the most sorid piece
A soul is born of malicious peace hugging tree wrath
An angle born with devil’s eyes
A devil born with angel’s eyes
Look into this dark black heart and see your white, shining, ecstatic youth
I just saw the saddest guy in the world… overweight, holding his small penis in bed asleep. Keyboard next to his balls. He looked like he had man boobs but I think it was just stomach fat. Not even funny, just put my face into a flabberghasted frown with a bit of anguish.
Never give up on yourself, even when you feel like shit. You’re allowed to feel like shit.
If you have nothing to live for and can’t stand the world around you - you have nothing to lose. Take a risk and piss people off; make the world a better place.
It takes great effort before it becomes effortless.
The trick is to do everything with great intent and focus.
THE BRAIN IS THE KEY TO ITSELF
One of the hardest actions of a strong person can be to let go. Weak people hold on to what is no longer necessary.
OK BITCHES. I'm back and with force. The ultimate doom of the gnomes...salt. Sucked them dry, they now look like oily potato chips, very unappealing and bad for one's health. But the now the salty chip gnomes huddle in a bag waiting to be eaten by some unsuspecting victim, or so I would think. Updates will come shortly given my lack of time. But.. here are ideas for what is in store
I hate everyone and everything. I just want to be alone. I’m not depressed, I’m pretty fuckin’ happy. If you saw me writing this in a coffee shop you’d think I might be a nice girl, and you would be right. I am a nice fucking girl, but with all the bullshit in the world sometimes you can’t help but think, “bloody hell.” I’m just as guilty as anyone to have created as much shit as you.
What to say about the mysterious hooded guitar man? Connected to the electricity of his insides, pulsating and moving through his fingers, feeling for that something to feel, the movement of sound and vibration.
Light = Energy = Matter = Atoms = Molecules = Cells = Organs = Humans
therefore, Light = Humans = Energy
... or any way you like it,
rough or gentle?
a little of both?
"First and foremost my humble thanks goes out to the fabric of
spacetime for allowing me to exist and study this universe we all
are intrinsically a part of."
I tend to thank stuff like this because it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and somewhat ‘enlightened’. But I really should be thanking the universe for being such an asshole. Thanks universe.
I’m in the city of lore
where the ‘Great Beast’ once roamed.
There stood a blazing time
where no water could be found but only overflowing foundations fountains of men’s blood.
Now a city of wankers,
too blended to be any good,
too busy to progress.
It’s cool and everyone looks for the truth in your eyes.
Shape-shifting spies in the land of conspiracy and deceit.
They can stand everything but themselves
for inside is a bomb waiting to explode into love, hate, and endless confusion.
What do people want? Happiness? Health? Family? Security? What about the spaces in between? Is it mostly to get the means to live and then wasting away in front of the T.V. to forget about it all?
Magnificently crafted stone in the honour of justice.
On a godly plane with intricate detail and grandeur delight.
Now I must obey the law and depart due to the facts presented to me.
I obey because I should of known what I was getting into.
Bye, bye, birdie.
The backdoor men live underground
lives not tied to any wives and fucking the hives.
If I was on an island with every commodity at my disposal, what would my role in the community be? Point, work, build? To what end? No. Live, enjoy, create. Where do I see myself in this community of fellows? On a hill overlooking it all.
How does one make it in the world as a modern day shaman? Where do I go? Refuge. Retreat -> Emerge …to build the light. Each one holds the light. Giving… passing the torch… I need a flame to pass.
Everyone has their own agenda even when it comes from the heart. STOP LISTENING TO EVERYONE AND LOOK INSIDE. To the source, the light, the force that moves the Universe.
[although revisiting this 10 years so or after I have written this I would add that you should also constantly question yourself as well or else you'll end up delusional and think you're Jesus or that you're in contact with multidimensional aliens]
What are my fears? What are my insecurities? Why do I feel these things? With emotional detachment they all seem kind of silly.
Do I give up?
Hell no.
"Only a handful of people define their talents prior to acquiring their driver's licenses; few still find themselves in an environment supportive of their aspirations; and even fewer enjoy liberal access to the tools and training necessary for the cultivation of their possible genius. Yet we often compare ourselves with this fortunate few when judging our own abilities.
By GLENN RUFFENACH Are your adult children bringing their money problems to you? Some "tough love" might be in order. |
…Ah, to be decedent and uncontrolled. The forces overcome my Will to hold my cravings back. What is this craving but a craving for regress and stagnation? This is the worst kind of personal sin. A personal sin so permeated world-wide with sinners laughing the the face of those that cannot even feed their family. Progress is not defined in terms of technicalities, true progress must be gauged by the greater whole, how it benefits all, not solely by the stick of business and economy. So my quest for healing myself turns into healing the world.
Brief: See if you can write about food in a way that makes the reader want to eat. It's important as writers to be able to invoke passion for the subject.