A moment in time…
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H1SCJhzjT6k&t=9s
PRESS PLAY…
I wanted something to meet this enlivening of my essence, something with meaning, something with a pulse…something attending to matters far greater than myself, before I could begin to stampede my own Mania onto what I have come to know as Life; a collection and collision of Manias…of Maniacs; in the realm where I delve and seek and stride and scurry, weasel I may be, masquerading as honey badger, but my aim is always true…and where better to find this launching pad, than some FACTS of The Good Colonel alongside a pounding DnB track. Which I wish I had remembered to demand on the speakers when last amongst those in my motherland of gritty stock who could and would appreciate the sound, and in the state we were all to be found, perhaps take some interest in the reportage of Libya, a nation we paid to destroy, a nation we paid to kill…as we added Fuckbook likes and hearts and sad faces to the posts of our ‘friends’ last take away meal or ultrasound of their yet to be born child…the irony aches within me, as i ponder those unborn and those born who were brutally torn to shreds by bomb or knife or bullet, with our taxes, BY OUR GOVERNMENT…
Am I being too much? Am I depressing? Am I a tin-hat melodramatic??
I am a man in love…with the only Woman ever to touch me deeply, the only Woman I have ever been able to look in the eye and heart and know and feel her as my Everything. As meaningful as all the planets and stars and supernovas and black holes of the Universe combined, for without Her they are nothing, there is nowt but laboured moment to moment movement absent of all inspiration other than to hunt and kill…just survive.
Now I have a different outlook…solely joyful matters, of hope seeds planted and bliss seedlings sprouting above the fertile soil of a rare piece of unblemished earth in the soul garden…an end in sight of three hearts beating as one side by side is bearable, solely an endless yearning for the same would be too much for even a count of Monte Cristo cousin such as myself to endure…Much swirls around me, rivers of change, all bearing hope, I’ve not the time or interest to deal with the unhinged who bring me no joy…whilst my grasp of the plight of the planet and not creatures great and small but worthy has lessened it has not loosened, for my fires still burn, as does my passion for prancing, perhaps now more than striding and marching, along the path of living wide open as the ocean, honest as the forest, in heart head and eyes…
A firefly elf visits my dreams, my name is mentioned, a call to arms is reminded to me…and I wake to ponder, how I have lost those I thought friends… to women, which is OK, I have lost more to drugs and suicide…which is more painful, yet nothing can come from cogitating….and recently I have lost a larval brother to the God Folk, the damn cloth…I can smile with my lips not my heart, for it hurts the still naive parts of my ever growing, ever changing essence. That bambi heart…
Yet back to the current state of play…
I sat in a troll hairdressers last week. Watching an old man near his grave sat next to me wipe the sweat from his brow, listening to a smug pug faced goon in The Chair speak to the Lady with the blades with a smile on his face which reminded me of the smile I saw on the face of my brother when he emerged from a brothel on his bucks night…I was 16 years old, and disgusted, beyond appalled; everything I had built of an image of the brother I never knew yet was so instinctively happy to behold was shattered…That same smile, smug…I suspected this chap having his hair cut didnt often get the chance to speak to women, and was making the most of a maternal figure cornered. Maybe he had some weird Oedipus inklings. Many do here…for they are raised on a totem as the Prince from infancy, when no infant earns such a title from merely birth, they earn this from how they progress, the man they become. I listened to the awkward exchange and the mentions of animals…
…what irked me the most was reason to chuckle when the conversation moved to the animal kingdom. This sickening egoism presenting as ME ME ME as the end of a production line of Nature of God.
I know moths more likely to inspire me than the vast majority of humans. I marvel at butterflies, the daylight cousin of the moths, with daily happiness, and I see perhaps 10 of their winged flock per week and probably 1000 humans. Its not the realm where I live, for the situation is the same back in the motherland.
People are forming and valuing relationships on facebook likes…or the lack of.
When they should be marvelling at butterflies.
It is fine to accept the way the world is, to assume no good can be done to change Life for the better, for yourself, for your wife, for your loved ones…but its disgusting to then take the step to be fake, to be cruel, to be horrid and ugly, when your survival is not at stake. The major symptom of capitalism is competition, is fakery, is people afraid to be honest as the forest, afraid to be the one thing which brings them and the world around them any nourishment…instead we smile at what we find awful, we scowl at what we find righteous, we sing when we want to cry, we agree when our hearts want to go to war to fight to the death…
This is my Moment in Time…I wonder how I have changed from my recorded moments in time from two years back>>>
My fangs have become long and now protrude ungainly even when I try to smile. Trapped to such a degree that I find parts of myself dancing in tune with those adhering to a life absent of feeling, out of habit, a life delineated by ignoble acts, a life taught, rinsed and repeated, door to door, face to face, mouth to mouth. My heart baulks with horror and pain, my lupine spirit howls, as I look left, right, up, down, and even to my surface, and find nothing of value, of meaning, of growth, of substance. I am finding nothing but an awkward acceptance of everything I hate become me.
Is this the habitat where I dwell, am marooned? To some degree the answer is YES, for the majority I collide with cause me to rage and fang and ponder whether they are brain dead, soul dead, or governed by overt direction to behave like a cunt to everyone but themselves.
Yes, I have improved. And why do I feel the need to delete the above record of the man I once was? Coward! leave things be…I am the most guilty man I know of revealing my soul, yet I demand this of ALL others! The irony is appalling, even wretched…
I was lacking love. I was sad for seeking rainbows in caves…yet I found escape from the cave, and, many thanks to the Moon, the fullest of resplendent Moons, for I found the deepest Love for a Woman, I had once known, then found other trauma, and we were young, and we both made mistakes, yet the seed planted, kept growing, the fruit did not die on the vine…and Now the time is Right,.
She KNOWS me inside out…She KNOWS I am a wannabe echo of Saul Williams…
She KNOWS I am ME…as I know she is to others YOGI, some form of spiritual guide into a never never realm to many…Na-Ma-Ste…another echo form.
We are both well aware of our projections…as we are both well aware and in love with the source of these projections. Its solely the SOurce which ever matters, the projections are merely…curious. The revealing of what lies behind the masks. Without this, no relationship means anything other than an exchange of insecurities…
Better my Queen knows me as sometimes awful, sometimes splendid, than lame masked consistency of nothingness.
She is Saturn to my Titan…
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