Thursday, August 14, 2008

Wanderlust revisited. (blue txt from an old post blak txt is new)

Samsara is for Buddhists who choose to dedicate them selves to truth, one unchangeable unbendable truth and find out that truth is liquid.

If home is where the heart is, I must lack a heart. If I have no heart, how could I love, how could I hate, How could I cry how could anything that I do so naturally? If home is what I seek could I not just return from where I come from? In 5 weeks exactly I have been in Albany for a year. I have all ready missed my run, as it is always at same time, clockwork. If I seek to see the math, if I seek to find the pattern in what I am naturally, If I seek to find my self should I change my patterns or simpily how I see my self in them and then change my self? I have not disappeared; the large sum of money I am spending to make my migraines go away is what has kept me here. If I seek only to sustain my self, food and shelter, then am I not freer than I have ever been dreaming of white picket fences in other people’s yards? There is a part of me that cries from under my skin for the truth of life I find when I run, when I wonder. There will always be some part of me that seeks the new, that seeks the birth, the creation of life. There will always be some part of me that wants to know the world. I believe I am a child of my times, A child. I believe that I have seen the wonders of different cultures and different peoples and different languages and religions and rights and wrongs through the digital God. How do you define your self, how do you know you are strong, how do you know anything at all. You know when you test your self. You know you are when you believe it to be true. You know it more when you forget and you have been reminded. So long I have searched for the answers to these questions, and so many others. And perhaps I will search forever, and perhaps I simply need to decide for my self that I know and stop searching, but now is not the time for that. Is there a god, am I loved, does life have meaning… Perhaps the only meaning in life, is what we as humans what we as animals give it.

What I know today to be true, what I see tomorrow could be different, Perhaps the only truth to be had is what I believe in today, Knowing that truth is liquid… knowing and accepting the random and intentional change of my truth, all truth. All the many questions of my mind and of general existence will never be answered, but what little truth I have known I have known in the moments of my run. I have known truth only through chaos, so chaos so far has been my only truth. The only thing that I know is that tomorrow things may be different. Tomorrow Is the only absolute and it is always undiscovered. I have seen the worse and the best of life, I live in a quarter million dollar house, I do not need for anything, I have seem the worst in the best of life, I have been idle in my mind, I have been accepting to the ins and outs of what I should desire, and In all truth I have no love for things that are not soaked in unpredictably. A story who’s ending can be guessed at is not one worth telling, so then it is not worth living. I do not know where I might be in 3 years, 3 months, 3 days, 3 hours, 3 minuets from now from this very moment. And, that truth is beautiful, that truth excites me. I am no longer afraid of what is unknown. I no longer think I need to know to move forward. Someone a few days ago told me an old Russian proverb that went something as follows “the only thing worse than walking down the wrong path is to keep going on it.” I choose to follow the path of today, and so I will never be on the wrong path for long. there is nothing here in this house to make it my home however. I was born in San Diego California, which is not my home I do not remember it I did not even live there a year. I have lived in Texas, Washington state, Organ, California, BC, Louisiana, West Virginia, Hawaii, New York, and probably other places which I am forgetting to list, and in all of them I have not a home. I have found a home more than I ever could have believed to be true. I have found something to love, and I have seen how it could be eternal. I have felt home in only a few moments of my life... I know, what I have not ever until yesterday and the days before it, I know that tomorrow the roots may be ripped away from me, but today I have it and tomorrow I can remember I did so it’s possible to have it again. I have felt real and alive only in moments that could break a person. I have been dead, bound by my laws bound by what I though I should be. I have been ugly because I have felt ugly, I have been Stupid because I have felt less than others, I have imposed others views on my self, and In many ways I still do, but I can see now that that dose not matter, I am as beautiful, and smart and god like as I Choose to be. Have you almost died before? Yes. I could be dead 5 minuets from now so what is worth anything more than the happiness of now? The air smells so sweet right after you almost die; you suck it into your lungs holding on to it never wanting to be parted from it, never threatened in never smelling it again. I lived in fear, I am fearless. I see no end so I have no end to fear. I see only that things might change and it might be good and it might be bad, but regardless there will always be tomorrow. Maybe not for me but, maybe that dose not matter. Have you ever been hungry? Yes, I have hungered for love, truth, acceptance, understanding and conformity. Not hungry because you were to lazy to make food, not hungry because you don’t get paid for 3 more days and all you have left is peanut butter… the kind of hungry I mean it is the hunger you feel when you have no home, Home is an illusion, and so is hunger. I now know what it means to sate my self. when you are someplace strange to you and you must rely solely upon the kindness of strangers, you must rely on chance. it is in this hunger you under stand how beautiful the world is, you understand how things are out of and entirely in your control and after food will always taste better. And in this sating my hungers is a good way to pass the time. In this I see that tomorrow my sources for happiness for debate for stimulation for food and for shelter may be moved, and I will need to find them again and I will always have them inside my self If I can learn to change things. its been a year and still every time I eat I want to cry because I know how lucky I am to have food to eat. Tears are often wasted in a time of drought, though I had enough money to provide me food and to provide me shelter, I would rather again starve than to think and dwell on what was than to look to tomorrows change. Have you known fear? Real pure fear, fear for your very existence and kept going? I know now, that I must learn to fear nothing. And that when I do I might be more complete, I might be more insane, but I will be something different and still the same, or perhaps it will change nothing. Only tomorrow or tomorrows tomorrow will know and I am not there yet. I have, and it is why I have never tried to kill my self. But not why I never will. I know, I know that there is nothing in this world that can stop me; There is, and it is only my self and my mind. I know I can survive because I always have. I know I can survive because I still am, I do not know when that will stop, but frankly I do not care. That knowledge is more of a comfort that any god, lover or friend I have ever had. Knowledge is the best God, the most sacred friend and the source of many peoples fear, and I hope one day not the source of mine. Why, why do I run, because I have no choice. I run because I can and because it excites me. I run because the constant new stimulus has brought me here. Because, I do not deny my heart, Because I will not deny my own will. because somewhere I must have a home.. Because there are 1000 undiscovered homes. Because no drug, illegal or otherwise will ever make me feel as alive as I feel when I find freedom in my wanderlust.

Because no Drug illegal or other wise can do to my brain, to my perception anything that I can not teach my self to do without it. I am free in my change, and in my quest. I am happy.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

New desktop

:) original photo here : http://ariellerohan.blogspot.com/2008/07/tourism.html

Friday, July 18, 2008

prayer

Come now.
come watch me pray
I will call out the wind
I will call out the stars
I will call out to the moon, and the sun
I will pay the price for the trade I offer,
Take you Old Gods,
Take you Gods of Earth and of Dust
Take of me my life,
I offer to you my pound of flesh,
I offer to you my Precious blood...
I offer you the years I have left to live
I offer you my Youth that I will grow older faster
I pay now.
I pray for safty
I pray for protection
I pray for a reweaving,
I am God.
I am Fate.
I am the Creator.
Let me be.
Let me be again connected to the core of my soul,
Of all life,
Let me be the Wind that I can blow whispers of comfort
Let me be the Stars that I may Watch the nights and light the unlit
Let me be the Moon that I may guard a womans body
Let me be the Sun that I may Guard a mans a well.
I call to you
I call to me
I call in ancient languages
I speak your name,
i speak my own name
Come,
Come watch me pray.

Monday, June 23, 2008

hes in everyway what he is not (poem will sp latter)

in every way he is,
the acting reality of my dreams,
the fruition of my prayers,
the coming of my tide...
he is the sate to my desire
he is the flame of my smoke
the thunder of my cloud
the bogyman and my guardian angel.

in every way he is,
the one i want to age in
the one i want to believe will work,
the reward of trying....
somehow sexual satisfactions
somehow where i need him
somehow the coming nightmare
my somehow corrupt Saviour.

and i love him.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

oi

oi i am tired.
someone click this thing!
Adopt one today!

Monday, March 03, 2008

creature of show

i am a creature of show, i dance behind the mirrors i delicately lay out for the world to see me through, sometimes i am beautiful others ugly, tall and thin and mis formed and imposable to chase down in my maze... so much so sometimes i forget which reflection is my own. I dream of someone one day taking the effort to smash and break every mirror, to walk over the broken glass and through the dust to find me... i suppose for that to happen though i would have to exist outside of my reflections... its been so long i think i have become the glass.
does he love me? will i be his wife, the mother to his children, will i live in his home? will he ever touch me again... its so hard to know. i don't know. i don't know if i should. i am lost somewhere far beyond my self.
he sleeps, or jests to sleep now beside me, breathing heavy... not for me just because he smoked to many cigarettes i am sure. will he kiss me when i am done with this and i lean in to whisper i love you... maybe... probity naught more than a peck.
i miss being sated... i think more than anything else in the world... that none of those things will ever happen if he dose not start to touch me on a more regular basis...

there she lay

there she lays, looking on the kitchen counter of the perfect postcard to her perfect world. shes getting older, this becomes more real to her every second she is no more the child she once was, and she may never be again... i know lets play a game of truth, do you know if i am a lie when i say you are the only reason i would ever return to the place i distaste so much. do you know your sweet lips are the reason i could bear to wake through the frigid cold my soul feels there. she looks down at the picture, waking up beside him as she has every other morning. they are not a tryst but a love, a deep and sad love that she knows there is no place for. nothing so beautiful. would he hurt her in the dream, he would never stray he is so perfectly flawed and so beautiful when he is angry, even there she finds pleasure in his rage... beautiful soft cream rage against her dark skin. his body the perfect pitch to her own note. the picture... would it be anything, would life be anything like the picture in her mind. would he hold her at night when she cried, would he tell her her hips are beautiful would he kiss her like she was the only woman in the world he had ever truly loved. would he get on one knee and say, i want you now i want you always come to me come and stay with me. would he know when she was scared, would he help when she was ill. would he appreciate the things she did for him, would he appreciate the fact that she spell checked this before she posted it... would he ever think of her when she was not around... would he dream at night of her laying under him the ocean swimming behind them... would he be moved by her midnight ranting, he will probity never read them.