Star Man

'Star light,


Star bright,

First star I see tonight...

I wish I may I wish I might,

Light the night & end the fight...'



I wish upon a star.

Sure, in Darwinian terms, I'll no doubt be eaten alive for it sooner or later.

And you have every right to be cynical, because the evidence in support of this practice...

is simply not there.

Movie stuff, as a good mate always reminds me.



But even in the deepest darkest dungeon...

I'll still be wishing upon a fucking star.



It's this which separates us from the savages.

& I know what a savage is.

I also know a dreamer. 

& I know which one is the preferable...

Open Soul Surgery...

Thank you for taking an interest in my work. 

This is in 'the book'...but I think it's worth mentioning here. 

One fundamental realisation for me- & the foundation of my work- is that we who have been traumatised in childhood...

have basically been 'torn apart'. 


Our soul is literally prised open like a chest cavity during heart surgery. 

In that cavity, a poisonous adult can liberally apply huge doses of bullshit. 


This cavity gradually closes up, and as the child heals over time...or TRYS to heal...

the bullshit is trapped in there. 


It is also re-affirmed at regular intervals by the poisonous adult;

and further, outside the home, we tend to respond to, and are drawn to the more deleterious, harmful influences in most aspects of life. 


Further- the infrastructure of bullshit within which we are forced to live- espousing crap like 'the government wants the best for us, cops and war and laws are all good things'-

all seems convincing enough. 

Because we have been prepared for dubious bullshit designed to keep us all enslaved. 


But at SOME POINT...a little voice begins to whisper to us. 


'this isn't right'. 

'this is bullshit, and it isn't working'. 


But of course, we ignore it. 


Over time, we begin to notice we are damaging our relationships,  having difficulty with the work we have chosen, the social constructs and the way we have set up our lives. 


We notice we are hurting people (& ourselves) with...not just the programming...but the CONFLICT that we have to deal with as a result of the internal war...

the war between who we truly are, and who we have been told to be. 


We take this crap out on those who love us. 

we hurt them. 


& pretty soon...we are alone. 

again.

and it hurts. 

& it happens time and time again.

and every subsequent attempt to NOT be alone...

we sabotage. 

And to kill the pain of that terrible void, this desolate way of life...that is at complete odds with who we are, and what we know ourselves to be,,,

We slowly begin to destroy ourselves.



At some point...you know what? 


We have to go back in there. 


We have to open up that cavity again, and scrape out all that crap. 

Then we have to put some new, better stuff in there. 

And a lot of that has to do with re-connecting with our true self- our authentic soul  who we were as a child. 

Because there was NOTHING wrong with who we were...

that was right all along. 

(And of course it takes time to trust who we are, because we have been conditioned to not only mistrust, but simply not like who we are.  & when we don't like who we are, we won't like anyone else. Or anything else.)


We have to be open to a new way of thinking, that reconnects us with who we truly are.

Who we truly want to be.

A compassionate, loving, productive member of society.

 
THIS TAKES TIME. 

I'm sorry to say that...we want it yesterday...but this is a long, difficult, strenuous process that requires self discipline, motivation and persistence. 

And mistakes WILL be made.  There is NO such thing as a magical transformation. 


If you are lucky, you will get little realisations...

but that's about it. 

And over time you begin to heal, to establish new patterns of behaviour, with loving, healthy, sustainable relationships. 

 
 
THIS is basically what my book is about. 
 
 
It is almost finished...


but it feels like I am only just beginning.

Everywhere...

Thank you for taking an interest, and I apologise that there have been none of my usual adventures, because I really must finish this book.  It's piss or get off the pot time; & if it's in there, by God...

it's coming out- even if I have to tie rope around it's forequarters and drag it out oldshcool. 

So, I am sadly confined to barracks.  

This demands a degree of introspection, which has seen a rise in some of the other personal blogging. 


Steinbeck used to keep a diary of his novels...it's the same type of thing.  It's done with a view to keeping things on track. 

You don't want people like me banging on endlessly but getting nowhere.  Ideally, there should be some sense of forward motion. 


I hope that is the case;

I hope this is not more wallowing disguised as healing work. 

Let me know if you sense it is the latter. 


I'd like to see some inroads.  I'd like to see some healthy contributions to the discussion. 


I'd like to see some real change. 



Everywhere...

The Burning Ember People...

Sometimes my heart seems to smoulder like a burning ember. 

It sends a dull ache to my shoulders, and down my arms.  I keep thinking it's a heart problem, but it's not. 

I remember it from childhood. 

It's the absence of warmth and affection. 

If you have children...please hold them as often and as tightly as you can.  Make them feel loved, and safe. 


We don't need a world full of burning ember people...


Paradoxically enough, the only thing worse than feeling this is the shame of talking about it. 

I can still hear Dad's voice telling me I'm a 'weak girl'.  I was never allowed to cuddle my parents.  I had to shake hands. 

These scars run deep...& the reason I review them in such detail is because, well...it's not exactly a hug...

but it's the next best thing.


Left alone in the wilderness, which is where the burning ember usually find themselves, they catch fire and perish. 



We meed a movement...a concerted effort to bring the burning ember people home again...



That would be my dream.  

Bell Bottom

Life is hard enough; if you can't resist the urge to bugger up someone else's existence, then for heaven's sake leave them alone. 

(this yen is so ingrained in so many people- especially men- it could take generations to shift. 

I'm not sure we have the kind of time it would take to fix it.) 

It's called selfishness; & it comes so naturally to so many of us...

this post won't even ring a bell.

Happy War-lovers Day.

 

Let the blood of the young, dumb and full of come run free...

Not a Hospital.

I think most of us have some affliction or other.  No single person has an exclusive patent on illness- mental or physical.

I struggle with a sense of hopelessness.

I feel like a failure most of the time.  No need to panic- many people do, and I don't think I'm alone. 

Far from it.

But it is never enough for me to need medical attention.

For myself?  I prescribe writing.  If you have read my blogs, you have my number. 

This is my soul work, and my healing.  In the absence of friends and family, it's a functional substitute. 

I know why I feel these things, and I have faith that working my way out of it is the way to go.  One day, who knows, I might be able to sustain friendships and a family of my own. 



Some disorders, however, are much more serious.

I sent this comment to a person who is suffering, and I repost it for anyone who may also be suffering.

"This is a serious affliction. Someone with this kind of illness should be receiving specialised care. not fb likes. this is not a post about a sick puppy. I support your attempts to reach out...but i am not a Doctor. & I have tried to reach out to you many times, to no avail. I hope you find the help you need. I have similar issues which I blog about regularly...& I know how isolating it can be.  so I feel for you. please get the help you need...proper help. FB is NOT a hospital."

Child's Play.

Oh, a couple of things you might not know about adults who have been abused as children.

& I only write this because there are people out there who are not aware of this, and you need to know.

For your OWN well being and peace of mind.



child abuse is pretty common, and victims who grow to be adults basically have a buggered brain. 

It's fucked; it doesn't work properly. 

We often have a short fuse, ridiculously high standards and are given to fits of righteous indignation. 

No mystery here- it has been beaten into us. 

We had terrible role models, and were never taught how to process our anger and frustration properly; hence, we carry around of lot of pent up rage, bubbling under the surface...just waiting to be released usually on the wrong person at the wrong time and in the wrong place, for ALL the wrong reasons.


Vesuvius, I tell you.     

& the problem can often be self replicating, aggregating and multiplying over time like radioactive waste, compounded by it's own negative energy.


If we get belligerent when you disagree with us, & if we de-friend you or block you from our lives in a fit of rage...

don't take it personally. 

It's NOT you- it's us. 

& you are probably better off without us.  

  
Just be thankful we can take it out on our computer, and not in the real world, where we generally perform tantrums and make scenes in shops and things. 

the episodes generally pass with a spell in the time out room.


& of course, WE are the losers, not you, because we wake up one day and wonder where all our friends are.  

It's the curse that never stops taking. 

How we get anything productive done is...


Well, most of us don't. 

Sooner or later...as the problem is left untreated...we destroy our relationships, and dismantle everything we have worked so hard to build until it is all gone, and we are living on the streets. 


The good news is, it doesn't last forever. 

Death is our blessed release, and we often kill ourselves before our time.

Sympathise with us, certainly...

but don't be sucked into trying to help us, or coddle us. 

You have your OWN lives to live, your own worries, and life is tough enough without taking on lost causes.

(unless you are Mother Theresa or have a Florence Nightingale fixation.)


Let me say this again...you are better off without us.

We either muddle through, or we don't


Life is full of heartbreaking things...

& this is just another one of them. 


This affliction cannot be cured, short of hard drugs or shock treatment...even then...it's a long shot.

In some cases, it can be managed.  I think it's fair to say, in my case, I manage things pretty well. 

Mainly because I talk about it- write about it- instead of keeping it all stored up inside.

So if you wonder why I spill my guts about this stuff all the time...well, now you know. 


My father used to say to me, 'Tell the bastards NOTHING.'

A good rule of thumb for me has been to remember what the old man said...

& do the EXACT opposite. 

'Don't complain, don't explain and NEVER apologise', he used to say.

Fuck that. 


If I have ever hurt you, I'm sorry. 

After I have finished bitching about it, I will explain it to you, and I hope it helps. 

I hope you NEVER feel it was anything to do with you.

It's not your fault.

It's not MY fault.

It's just one of those all round shitty deals. 

Talking about it.

That's been my saving grace.

And I will keep talking about it until the pain goes away, so you best settle in or pick another show.
 
This is my cure.


The only other cure is...

for adults to STOP traumatising their children.

        

Angels.

"You have done so many good things and, I think, have expressed unconditional love." 

An actual human just said that about me. 

There have been some pretty dark moments lately, trying to drag this manuscript over the finish line. 

But, in those moments, when all I can hear are the criticisms...

I shall remember what this soul said. 

Even though I don't believe it entirely...perhaps I can visualise it, and make it so in the future. 


We are a pretty shitty species, but every once in a while...

one truly touches your heart. 

JTM...I will never be able to repay you.  But you are one of those rare humans that doesn't 'need to git paid'. 


The Gods send us angels- may they grant us the serenity to welcome them, & accept what they have to say,

that we may become angels ourselves. <3 font="">

  

Are You Living??

I accept that Fukushima is much worse than we were told; only the feeble minded or the ambivalent don't get it. 

I also accept there isn't a damned thing we can do about it. 

ANY of us. 


My heart goes out to my friends in California, who are already seeing infant mortality on the rise. 

In the next 3-5 years, strange tumours will start appearing. 

And we will begin to get very sick; and die slow, painful deaths. 


Given that this is a death sentence for the entire species that cannot be avoided...ask yourself,

'am I living authentically'? 

'Am I doing exactly what I should be doing?' 

'Am I living as my heart desires??

Imagine a Doctor has told you have cancer and will die of it. 

Are you busily playing the stock market and working on your investment portfolio? 

If so...

WHY???


Or are you cashing in your bonds and retirement funds and LIVING these last few precious years joyfully? 


People ask me, 'what if things are not as bad as they seem, and you are left high and dry with nothing left'?


They ARE as bad as they seem.

It would take a miracle to save the species now; & if we start getting THOSE sorts of miracles- miraculous, divine, physics defying, life changing, 'when you wish upon a star' miracles...

We won't need money. 


I understand those who have been told they are dying...

start living. 


We have been told we are dying- all of us. 


Are you LIVING???

True Subversive.

Upset the designs of your mind; do something nice for yourself today. 


(if it makes it any easier, remember that the government HATES it when you place a high value on yourself.) 

Gift Voucher.

 

 

I think I know why forgiveness is the greatest gift of all. 

Because an act of forgiveness can really get into your system like an anti-biotic, and go to work. 

It can heal, but even better than that- it can inspire personal transformation. 


And forgiveness is SO unexpected. 

Vengeance, hatred, animosity and loathing are common as muck, but forgiveness?


Can really catch you with your dacks down.   

& everyone loves surprises...

Beastly.

Man doesn't 'behave like a beast to take away the pain of being a man'.  Talk about dignifying of one's own psychological and sexual hang-ups by filtering them through these grandiose literary aphorisms. 

Man simply likes being a beast.

Jonathan Livingston Bat.

The universe has already been proven to be so vast- the enormity is thus far incalculable. 

Why we refuse to see more than just a tiny fraction of it is completely beyond me. 

If I don't at least try to see the bigger picture- if I don't make an effort to get my head around my own teeny view of things-

then I'm nothing more than an oxygen thief.

an intra-galactic criminal.

Under Par.

You can be the nicest person on the planet, and there will be someone who thinks you're a piece of shit. 

You can be the worst prick who ever set foot on solid ground, and there will always be someone who thinks you're ok.

The vast majority of humans are somewhere in the middle. 

In the end what matters most, I think, is how you see yourself.  

Sadly...that will always be a gross underestimation. 

Un-chained.

This was a tough piece to write.  It's an indictment not only of men, but of myself. 

How we as a gender see 'beauty'. 

I wrote it because I saw something that haunted me last week; and this is a response to that. 

I was haunted to such a degree, because it reminded me of some things inside me I have still not yet come to terms with. 

Anger, fear, jealousy, selfishness...to name but a few.

However, I like to think this is a hopeful, healing piece that has helped me to exorcise that demon. It also serves as a companion piece to run concurrently with some themes explored in my book. 

I could not have done it alone.  Thank you to my friend Celladore Violet who has helped me a great deal with some things I have wrestled with all my life. 

There is nothing wrong with passion, or fire...depending upon where that fire is, and who gets burned.  Controlled fire can be of enormous value...and a very beautiful thing.  Balance, control  & letting go of those impulses that seek to devour, demolish & consume...hold the key to our transcendence.  

I hope this is of some value to you, man or woman...



What is it about a man?

That he cannot appreciate beauty without seeking to covet, possess, devour or exploit it?

What is it about our species that we would catch a butterfly, kill it and mount it in a display case in a museum?


What is it about our gender that we are so driven to hunt, capture, seduce, and destroy ANY thing of any kind of aesthetic value?


We seem hell bent on owning things.


To have and to hold them.


As long as we shall live.


Is not an integral part of the beauty of the things we pursue with such lust, such inexhaustible fervour, not their fleeting nature?

Their transience?


The fact that they are...

Temporary?


Perhaps it has something to do with a denial of death. 

The very idea that WE are temporary, too. 


We assuage this upsetting idea, and dull the pain of the reality of it, by holding down, fastening and tying

ANYTHING that takes our fancy.

By so doing...are we not in some way DESTROYING it??


& inevitably, undeniably destroying ourselves?


Our very souls?


And I am not just talking about butterflies here;

This can apply to things inanimate, as well as animate.


What about art?

What is it about art that drives so many to purchase at auction, mount and frame a work of art then seal it under lock and key?

Instead of allowing it to be seen by the masses?


I doubt it has anything to do with the beauty.

Art appreciation for these people is about the dollar value- not the aesthetic value.

It's a power play.


Is there anything more vile than profiting from the passion, the creativity of another?

Putting something in a vault, seen by no one, until it increases in dollar value?  And then letting it out again in order to collect the profit?


This is obscene.

 
It's like real estate.

Nothing is as unreal as 'real estate'.


We own NOTHING.

We merely enjoy it for a while, and then we die.

Why then do we seek to capture, posses, & control beauty?


Art is for everyone. 

Not just a few. 

 BEAUTY is for EVERYONE.


That we should seek to own, posses, traffic and profit from it is a complete abomination. 


We are now drifting away from the inanimate, back to the animate.


The real. 

The living, breathing, walking, talking, thinking, feeling beauty.


That of womankind.

What about the ownership & possession of the fairer sex?


And I am not only talking about the slave trade here.
 
There are so many forms of enslavement. 

As many as there are minds to formulate the intent.

And carry it out.


How many times have I heard it said of men when they fall in 'love' with a woman...

It so soon becomes about power?

Enslavement?

Control?

Dominance and submission?


I recently heard of a man who was so jealous of his girlfriend, and the attention she attracted...

That he killed her.



Basically, I think we can surmise his thinking was,

'If I can't have her all to myself...no one can.'


Total, utter, complete selfishness.

Pathological. 


This incident stuck in my brain.

The woman in question...I can still see her face.

It haunts me.

Of course it is a terrible thing to happen...

NATURALLY I find that haunting.

But there is another reason I find it so disturbing on a basic, fundamental level.

If we men are honest we will know...


that there is a little piece of this bastard in all of us. 


I know there is in me. 

& for that reason...

I knew, sooner or later, I was going to have to deal with this in a blog, and today is the day. 


But thankfully, I don't have to do it alone. 

I have some help.

Here is a beautiful woman. 

Celladore Violet.

If you are a male...

(or a female of bisexual or lesbian persuasion)

Tell me that this woman doesn't excite something in you.

Some moment of...

Entrancement.

Captivation. 

Yes...desire.


And tell me this feeling, however fleeting, is not about...

How much you would love to be with her.

To have her. 

To...show her off.

& take her home.


Forever.


Admit this feeling, however transient, and we will have something to work with. 


This feeling is nothing to be ashamed of. 

It is a sensation that is much older than you. 


Excuse me, US.

It is many thousands of years older than us.


And this feeling, this whole dilemma, illustrates PERFECTLY the reason why I began this blog in the first place.

One of my favourite minds, Richard Dawkins, the noted Biologist and Atheist, said the following, and it has been the cornerstone of most of the work I have done here;

“Be warned that if you wish, as I do, to build a society in which individuals co-operate generously and unselfishly toward the common good, you can expect little help from biological nature.”

OK then; so if this is the case, what can we do to overcome our base nature?  He has an answer for that too; 

“Let us try to teach generosity and altruism, because we are born selfish. Let us understand what are our selfish genes are up to, because we may then at least have the chance to upset their designs, something that no other species has ever aspired to.”

Upset their designs.

Perfect. 

A selfish, primal beast can devour anything, and leave it for dead.

We have it in our makeup, if you like to rationalise.

But if you aspire to a higher place, a better way of living...

A more CIVILISED way...


Then you have no alternative but to make the hard choices.


The sometimes painful choices.

To talk back to our instincts.

Our base inclinations.


But we do NOT have to do it alone. 
  

Believe it or not, women are NOT our enemy.

That is some bullshit we worked up in our own heads.


It's old thinking.

Fuzzy bullshit.

Women want to help us.

What they don't want is for us to take advantage of their better nature.

If you truly want help with this...

Then ask. 


It's as simple as that.

But you better not have an agenda attached.

Nothing will fuck you up quicker than reaching out for help in the spirit of a genuine desire to evolve,

Then allowing that beast to turn, and rear it's ugly head.

We need teachers. 

Every once in a while, we are sent angels to guide us.

This is my sensei.

My teacher. 

We have like minds. 

We have a bond.  

A connection. 

And as hard as it might be to believe it...

It is not exclusively sexual. 
 
I have something to learn from this woman.


I can love her, appreciate her, enjoy her in the moment...

Then I can let her go.


She teaches me how.

& the more I do it, the better I am at it.

& the better I am at LIVING.


I have been with many beautiful women...more than I deserved.

And frankly?

I lost all of them because I did not know how to relate to them.


Quite frankly, all bullshit aside, my primary thinking with each one of them was NOT a gracious appreciation for being with this woman in the here and now, but...


'How do I keep her?

How do I hang onto her?'

Basically- how do I treat her as property.

Own her. 

Keep her all for myself.

This is the worst thinking of all for an evolving soul.

If one aspires to a higher state- we need to learn to overcome our baser inclinations.

To rise above specious notions such as ownership and possession of beautiful things.

In short- in order to achieve transcendence in our lifetime...

We need to learn to let go.


Remember the three questions we should ask ourselves on our death bed?

- How well did you live?

- How well did you love?

- How well did you learn to let go??


It's all about letting go.

Letting go will inevitably help us to die better...

But more importantly- it will help us to LIVE better.
 

We need to be MUCH better at releasing our vice like grip on things, AND people...

if we are to alleviate the suffering in our lives. 


Our suffering...

And the suffering we cause others.


I'm not so sure about marriage as an institution.

I get nervous when people start talking contract.

It's like a sanctioned version of slavery.

 
How many marriages so soon become about control?


Obligation??


Enslavement?

Being mounted in a display case,

or imprisoned?


By being subservient to these archaic, anachronistic notions of human interaction and communion...


WE are the ones who are enslaved. 


My motto is,

'I let you go, in order to love you better'. 


Can we not learn to appreciate beauty for what it is?

Fleeting?


What of these gorgeous mandalas the Buddhist monks create on the floors of the temple?

They work all day, sometimes for days and weeks on these things...

Then sweep them up again.

What of that beautiful woman in the street, on the train, in the bar??


On the internet???


If you cannot see the beauty in this...

The inherent beauty of the transience of art...

of beauty, of life...

of other people (especially women)


Then you are not free.


Until we can learn to appreciate beauty, in all it's glory, without then seeking to satisfy a weird urge to own, possess, control or exploit it for our own profit...

Then we will NEVER be free.   

The Little People

 

There are times when I really struggle with my book.


Of course it's self indulgent to even say something like this, and it is ASKING for howls of derision from the cynical and the loveless.

But in a way, I have to indulge myself by saying it- because writing is one of the most solitary affairs known to mankind.

There is no one else here to bitch at about it.

& no way to do it in any effective, productive way.

That's just the way it is. 


I tell it...

Then in due course, you read it.


So much stuff, hundreds of pages of it that simply refuses to be readily organised into any kind of sensible order. 

Sometimes I wonder if I am not doing battle with it because that is ALL I have EVER done with it.

With everything.


Am I in love with the struggle?

The never-ending conflict?

Will it NEVER be finished?


All questions I'm sure writers ask of themselves in order to defer the process of actually doing the writing.



But I have my little inspirations to prop me up along the way. 

This was said of my hero, Dr. James Orbinski, of medisin sans frontiers, who worked in many war torn parts of the world. Rwanda, Uganda, etc, of his attempts to write a book about his traumatic experiences…

 

"I think he’s working with dilemmas that are real, I think he’s dealing with contradictions that are very profound, he’s trying to encapsulate some ideas that no one has…

 

& I think he needs to find a synthesis of all these ideas, he needs to find a larger look at them as it were…

By writing…you simplify the complexity of the world around you…it’s just what the exercise is all about, and I think that he’s finding that it’s not easy, because the complexity is almost intractable, it’s almost overwhelming…”

I understand this so well. 

& it gives me some hope, sure. 


But I'll tell you what gives me even more inspiration. 


Me. 

Little me. 

 
 
This is little me.


A question I ask in the book, is...

'would you beat this little boy'??


Would you?

And yet I was beaten.

& I never quite got over it- which is why I am writing the book.  

It's the only way left I can think of- & I have tried a bunch of stuff-to come to terms with what happened. 


I'll try anything. 

Everything. 

 
Would I beat this little boy?

I would not.



And yet, in a way, I do.

Every day. 

Punishing myself for not being able to write this book quickly and efficiently.


How long have I been working on it now?

TOO long.

I know that.


But beating myself up over it isn't going to help.


I think part of the process is learning to give ourselves permission to tell the story.


I think we all have to. 

The abused and disaffected. 

We have to find a way to tell it that we can take pride in.

That we can be protective of.  


Because believe you me...

there will be assholes and cunts lined up around the block ready to give you shit for even daring to talk about your abuse.


Like it is something they don't want to hear.

& you should keep it to yourself.


FUCK THEM.


If you feel a burning desire to tell your story?

You tell it. 

DO IT.

If not for you...

Then do it for little you. 

If this little boy came to you a story of trauma and torture, would you turn him away?


If you are reading this...

I doubt you would.


Picture yourself as a child...

In fact, grab a photo of little you if you have one, and study it.


Look into the child's eyes. 

Your eyes. 


Those are YOUR eyes, dammit.


If that child has a story he/she wants to tell?

You owe it to that child to do everything in your power to listen.


When I doubt myself...

Doubt the validity of my story...


I look into the child's eyes. 


This is for him. 



We NEED to set the children free...

     

Hot Dinner Time

When the healthy psyche is assailed upon from all sides by the horror, we rail against it. 

(those who give a shit do, anyway. 

I guess those who don't give a shit shop, watch TV, drink themselves to death, etc...)

And because the perpetrators are usually beyond our reach, we, the caring, the feeling, often find ourselves lashing out at those around us- as if it is somehow their fault.

& if they defend themselves, it is not uncommon for us to say things like, 'you don't care', or 'you don't understand'.


When the pain in their eyes tells us...

nothing could be further from the truth.


They clearly love us. 

I remember that look in the eyes of my loved ones...

As I gouged away at them like a demon with diahorrea...

& it's a look that will send me to straight back to hell, from whence I came. 


& of course, this suits those in charge right down to the ground.

We are doing their job for them; destroying each other. 
 

It's a bit like the prevailing ambivalence of the mostly white power structure toward the black on black gang killings in the ghetto. 


& the more you rail- and realise how you are hurting the ones you love- the more desperate and hopeless it all seems. 

So...

If you're lucky enough to have friends- look after them. 

Take it from someone who has lost more people who loved me than you've had hot dinners.  


& I suggest you carefully hone in on the REAL enemy...


& pile on. 

Today is a Good Day to Let Go.

Today is a good day to let go.

We have it in our thick monkey brains that if we dare loosen our grip- everything will turn to shit.

This is not necessarily the case. 

By letting go...

you might actually be setting something, or someone FREE.

Maybe even YOURSELF.

Letting go may be the most unselfish thing you have ever done.


So...unless you are a rock climber, or a bat or something...

For heaven's sake LET GO.

& see what happens. 


I'll bet it's something better, higher, stronger...


Infinitely more beautiful than you ever imagined.

How Low Can You Go...

I've seen Hell. 

Hell is settling for less than you are worthy of. 

And it's a TERRIBLE place.

If you have woken up in a strange bed, with someone you don't know, or even worse, don't care for...

You know what I'm talking about.


Heaven, on the other hand...

is being delivered so much more than you ever imagined possible.


I've had both. 

And take it from me...

PURGATORY is being so used to HELL...

You just can't handle Heaven. 


& flushing it all down the toilet.


Heaven...


& Hell. 


Pick one...


& START WALKING.


Because Limbo is too low to spend a lifetime...