So this is the first post to a journal in a long time. I am kind of taken aback by the idea that the only journal I write on is read by people. And indeed it makes it a letter to those who read it and not really a journal. I am tired of being lonely. I am tired of the knowledge that I might never be one with anyone again. I am terrified by the idea that I might live the rest of my life alone. I have carried on the road i started so long ago. I have walked so far into it... that I myself recognize how foreign and bizarre the idea of what I believe in might sound to some people. I am tired of being afraid of sounding weird and it is so paradoxical because the instance somebody gives me the 'you're crazy' look I lose any respect I have for them. I'm tired of this american complacency of everything. I am tired of not being treated as a person but as a target market. I am tired of walking through seas of zombies and robots and see their faces of disdain, them, even them lost in the darkness...with arrogance in their faces. Yet I guess no one lacks it. I am tired of the values that we place on things and ideas. I am tired of intolerance and ignorance. I am tired of assimilation and laziness. Who is going to fight for you and me, if not you and me? Damn caffeine gets me in a bad mood. Disregard this, but don't.
I am gliding above, just skimming the surface of a silvery dove, peaceful and patient elusive and honest, tactless and blunt profiles of children, all laughing and crying being flayed and mistreated neglected and disrespected forced to be, without asking his opinion who is here, and who dissappears? who seems to be gone at time? and who comes back to cry? The monster are there, just under the blanket. Close your eyes and listen, pay attention to the darkness they are there for you too, just as they are for me I am the lightning. I am the he. I am the rain. You are afraid, you are afraid to reign.
My recent acid trip sent me on a wave of rediscoveries...everywhere from Interpol, to Beatles...and this little gem of a song I used to sing along to laying on my bed, maybe crying, maybe feeling all the intensities that innocence lets us feel when we're still young... i was lucky enough to have come to know Heroes del Silencio. I warrant NONE of my readers have heard of them. They are considered by many, the most influential spanish rock band to date. If you lack the patience to listen to music in spanish, let me fill the little nook in your brain and how to file them. A mix of Led Zeppelin and Van Halen, Poems for Lyrics, infused with a certain feeling of European experience, wisdom and arrogance...they are from spain. The video, lyrics, and translated lyrics for probably their slowest, but one of their most powerful songs.
Las palabras fueron avispas y las calles como dunas cuando aun te espero llegar
En un ataúd guardo tu tacto y una corona con tu pelo enmarañado queriendo encontrar un arcoiris infinito
Mis manos que aún son de hueso y tu vientre sabe a pan la catedral es tu cuerpo
Eras verano y mil tormentas y el neon que sonríe a las paredes que he vuelto a pintar del mismo el color
No sé distinguir entre besos y raíces no sé distinguir lo complicado de lo simple Y ahora estás en mi lista de promesas a olvidar todo arde si le aplicas la chispa adecuada
El fuego que era a veces propio la ceniza siempre ajena blanca esperma resguardando por la espina dorsal
Ya somos más viejos y sinceros y que más da si miramos la laguna como llaman a la eternidad de la ausencia
No sé distinguir entre besos y raíces no sé distinguir lo complicado de lo simple Y ahora estás en mi lista de promesas a olvidar todo arde si le aplicas la chispa adecuada
No sé distinguir entre besos y raíces no sé distinguir lo complicado de lo simple Y ahora estás en mi lista de promesas a olvidar todo arde si le aplicas la chispa adecuada
I am the unwilling but accepting spectator of the consciousness this body experiences. I am not hector, nor do I exist. I am the infinite sea that flows into a floating bottle. When the bottle sinks or breaks I will be released into non-spectation, non-observing. The vessel or the temple that is this body is no more than a cage... A cage victim to chance and circumstance. A being in a planet, in a solar system in a galaxy in a universe It experiences the present and the present only The past and future do not exist They are the relativistic illusion experienced by a sentient who can form memories I am the doors of heaven presenting myself unto you I am a missionary on the street asking if you know what life is. What is life then? It is no more than the space between my psychosomatic machine and my freedom.
Sweaty thighs, excited heart and sexual honesty Where is this found besides upon my heart? Talk to me.
------- I sat on the lake today Saw many masterpieces float by let myself be healed by the splashes of ducks was the wind-wave on the surface of the water saw an angry deep thinker in the clouds saw a lonely duck and became it left my fears and became the colors in the sky forgot my consciousness and became friend of all saw my heart's burden and let it sink to the bottom of the lake where worries live the wind made me BE
If I were to look at a chair, it would be no more than that... a chair. How simple, how terrible. All that I have lived that makes me FEEL a certain way in relation to the chair is what blinds me to the heavenly nature of the chair. The chair is heaven, yet I don't see it because I've lived in the world for 22 years. Tomorrow I will see a chair, and if I have succeeded in my quest. I will see heaven. If my ego is not there to distort my perception of the chair/heaven I will have succeeded. If I feel separate from the chair I will have failed. If I am not the chair I will have failed. If the chair is just a chair, and not all encompassing beauty, bliss truth and consciousness I will have failed. If my looking at the chair is a conscious willful decision I will have failed. If being is all I experience, I will have succeeded. If my thumb is cut off and I suffer physically with a spooky detachment I will have succeeded. If my best friend dies and for one second I wish he/she had not, I will have failed. If I am not the walrus I have accomplished nothing. Who is the buddha? You are the buddha. The buddha statue in my altar must be firewood waiting for a cold night.
Hey guys, I came upon this article on vision and optics. The Part on tetrachromatic vision is particularly fascinating. http://www.slate.com/id/2079371/
I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together. - The Beatles
Buddhism has the characteristics of what would be expected in a cosmic religion for the future: it transcends a personal God, avoids dogmas and theology; it covers both the natural spiritual, and it is based on a religious sense aspiring from the experience of all things, natural and spiritual, as a meaningful unity. - Albert Einstein
QUE PASA chicle? i really feel sorry for my ethics test...i mean, nothing, no one should go through the kind of humiliation that I just made that little blue book experience. When i was turning it in, i could kinda hear it whimpering and moaning... "heeector...no!!! categorical imperatives say you shouldN't treat me like this...the doctrine of the mean tells you to be friendly and nice.." to which i responded: listen bitch, i've been horny and awake for TWENTY-SEVEN MOTHERFUCKIN hours, you deserve the new orifice... alright people... have a beautiful thanksgiving... it is true, i've been awake for 27 hours, and i'm going to go get WASTED. rock on ROOOOCK OOON
Blah fucking blah...here it is again, the same shitstorm...and in the midst of all the bullshit other bullshit becomes clear... my life is being completely restructured and not all of the changes are cool... people suck...yes people suck so much of the time...they never take the time to be nice, they want friendship only when everything is fine, ditch you when it get's heavy and expect to be friends once it all cools down... i hate how lonely this road is, and how seldom you see people walking it... i hate not being able to speak my mind because at this point I am so far down the road that even I sometimes doubt the sanity of it all but how fucking ironic, that all it boils down to is that I believe in something that requires faith... and people give me the weird eye...you know what...I've stopped giving a shit. I've had too much time to think about this, experienced too much of it, read too much about it, discussed it too much and deliberated on it too much to entertain your narrowmindedness
are you offended? don't be, i'm not talking specifically about you.
I just bought my ticket to honduras... And you know what? It feels fantastic. To leave all of this for a month of beautiful weather with my family. To take a break from inconsistent friendship. To breathe and forget about school. To clean my system of everything. To hug my people and remind them I love them. To start over with a clean new slate. To get some sunshine and come back with an awesome tan (yes guys, even tanner). To eat frijoles fritos, tortillas, platano, honduran cheese... that kicks wisconsin cheese's ass (i know because i've tried them both, don't contradict me if you haven't tried both ;) to go to the movies. to bathe in a pool or jacuzzi, to go hunting, to see good friends, to have fresh clean ironed clothes (yep i'm spoiled, kill me if it doesnt feel good to have it), to go spend a weekend at the beach to play basketball with my beautiful brothers to have the time to pursue whatever what i want...for one whole month to escape from the alcoholic escapism rampant here that so many of us engage in ....what more can i ask for? "otra corona! ...traigase algo pa picar tambien...!"
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
sourgoingmad's journal
annoyed
peaceful