Setting Son...

I just thought I would share this beautiful sunset with you, after all that summer rain. 

 

 

Isn't it amazing, how subtly the colours change in a matter of only a few minutes???

I bid you good night, sweet dreams, & my most heartfelt thanks for you taking an interest in my writing, and thank you for the amazing discussion afterward. 

I truly think my craft is getting better day by day, & that is a direct result of your input. 
How on earth does a writer improve unless people read it? 

& even BETTER if it generates some fun and fellowship! 

Today has been bitter sweet...but at least I can retire with such beautiful colours in my life. 

Sweet dreams, my dear friends. 

You make my life worth living.

 

 

 

I Love Your Meat.

People are so impatient WITH vegetarians! 

They snicker under their breath. 

'You don't eat meat????

Whaddaya mean you DON'T EAT MEAT????'

I mean I don't consume dead animal flesh.

'WHY???'  They say, as if it is the most unnatural thing in the world.  

I might as well have announced I had given up rooting.   


'Why??' you ask?

Well, it might be the health benefits.  

I'm not going into all this- you can find out for yourself the health benefits of not clogging up your colon with rotting animal flesh.

Hell...I smoke and drink occasionally; so obviously I am not THAT fervent in my enthusiasm for the temple that is mine body. 

So it must be something else.

I love animals.  

People say to me...

"I love them too! 

Fried, roasted, broiled..."

etc etc. 

very funny meat face. 

You'd be a marvellous warm up act at your local meat market.

Have you seen what happens to animals in an abbatoir?

Have you see 'Earthlings'??
 

If you loved animals...you wouldn't eat them.

You wouldn't endorse these concentration camps for beasties with your consumption of packaged meat products. 
 

I mean...

How could you eat this??

Or this??

Or even this??

I mean THIS one even does aerobics! 

Look at those stylish goddamned leggings! 

I love my friends. 

I wouldn't eat them.  

Not unless I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO.     

I look into a pigs eyes at Fair...

& I would no more eat him than chow down on my own foot for supper. 


It's just mad; & I can't imagine why I did it for so long. 

Blind. 

Deranged.

Indoctrinated. 

Brainwashed. 

Addicted.

I don't know why I have done a LOT of things for so long. 

Following Christianity- even when I knew it was a load of toxic bullshit- because I didn't want to roast in the fires of hell.  

that's called delusion.  


In fact- don't try to make sense with meat eaters; they are like Christians. 

Just as something in Christianity does things to people's brains to drive them mad and torture and torment  and murder people...

So too is there contained in meat some kind of bacteria that does something to meat eaters brains so they cannot make the comparatively simple connection between loving animals...

& eating them. 


They just can't quite make that connection.

 

I remember I couldn't. 

It WAS an addiction to animal fat.

And it IS addictive. 


Now...I see the light.

& I don't miss animal flesh one little bit.

Now I feel closer to my fellow creatures.

Life is FULL of amazing Grace transformative moments.

'I once was lost...now I'm found.

Blind, but now...I see."


I can see now...it is hypocrisy to eat animals if you love them. 


It's not about freedom of choice, or taste or preferences...it's simple.

If you loved animals...you wouldn't eat them. 

ANY of them.

Would you eat your dog? 

Your cat?

No.  

It boils down to this; people who say they love animals then eat them are full of shit.  

They might not be full of shit about many other things...

But they are full of shit about that. 


But I wouldn't go around saying that!!

I'd have no friends left! 

I am old enough and wise enough to know there is NOTHING more obnoxious than a reformed... anything. 

Whether it is meat, drink, smokes or hard drugs we have given up...

we are all the same in our evangelistic fervour to distance ourselves from whatever had enslaved us. 

Like a retired porn star come to Christ. 


& it looks bogus.

So?

I try to understand the meat eaters. 

I hope you will come to understand me...
 

So why don't THEY cut me a break for my choices??

Why do they feel it is so crucial that they sit and snicker and poke each other and laughing that I am a man who will not eat meat?

As if it makes me less masculine?

Or GAY or something?

Eating meat does NOT make you more manly.

Unless more manly means dying young.

In fact...come to think of it...

Eat more meat, you guys. 

Engorge yourself on the rotting carcasses of the blessed beasts. 

All the more pussy for me...

You're so vain...

That awkward point in a relationship where you post some general comment or blog- & you get a message from a friend saying, 'that was about me, right?' 

One never knows whether to be annoyed at their vanity...or somehow humbled that you reached them.  If I didn't have such a low self opinion...I would pick the latter.  

So I pick the former...

I usually give them a fresh one for ASSUMING it is about them...& I'm not keen on assumptions.

As I have said many times- I am on the 'abrasive side.

It's part of my charm.

If I pretended it did not exist...& did not give it expression...then I would be the worst kind of lie.

Lying to myself. 

Too many people want to censor me, without me censoring myself.


However...this isn't about me. 

It's about the people this isn't about. 

There is NO way of saying 'it's not about you'...without saying 'it's not about you'. 

And no matter how you say it...it will come off as offensive.

Because...good or bad...


Most people on some level WANT it to be about them.


(p.s. this DEFINITELY isn't about you.).

Cheer & Loving in Wisconsin...

 

 

I always thought "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" was such a clever title. 

Now I don't fear or loathe anyone...it seems a bit passé. 

Maybe this is a good thing. 

Perhaps I am one writer now less likely to blow my brains out in desperation. 

If I live that long...


RIP HST.

Internettle...

I say pretty much anything and everything here in my blog.

My life is an open book.

That the point of doing this blog in the first place.

To be as open, candid, & honest as I possibly can be.

The good, the bad and the ugly.

I have seen the worst the world has to offer, & I accepted the consequences a long time ago.

I would gladly do time for what I write here.

I have seen the inside of a prison cell.

I would also die for it- & I have almost died a few times, so i know what that means.

I realised some time ago, that in the interests of my health and well being, I HAD to learn to be more open and honest...or die a slow death.

In other words, it's my soul imperative.

I am happy to live...or die...by and alongside everything I write here, and will gladly have any portion taken at random to be posted as my epitaph.

For it was true at that time.

Hence...it is ALL truth.

I never write ANYTHING that I do not want anyone to hear.

So apart from my bank details...I am not a privacy junkie.


However...I will say this.

Sometimes...I have a feeling some people (especially women) say TOO MUCH.

This might sound sexist...but on the internet?

There is MORE for a woman to be fearful/cautious of than a man.

I'm not saying there are no female nutters...of course there are.

BUT...this world wide web is crawling with predators.

& information is power.


I'm not exactly The King of Integrity.

Or I wasn't.

But I'm learning; & the internet has given me a forum in which to do that.

I'm not saying it's the SAFEST forum...

But I have found it to be hugely beneficial for me personally, professionally, emotionally and spiritually.

But like anything, there are pitfalls.

Unscrupulous people.


I advise caution.

The internet is like a box of chocolates.


You never know what you're gonna' get...    

The Saline Solution...

Most of our best lessons come from the kitchen.

Just like when you have added too much salt to something...once an act of infidelity enters in...

you can never get rid of that salty after taste.

Try as you might...there is nothing you can do to fully get rid of it.

All you can do is either throw the spoiled food out...

or learn to love the taste of salt.

It's a question of your own peculiar palate...

& your tolerance for certain flavours.

Everybody Wants You When You're Bi...

We are ALL bi-polar. 

Those who imagine they are not have the mental issue. 

We as a species are doing AWFUL things to ourselves...each other- indeed to the very planet- that over time will HAVE to put a terrible zap on our brains

(or if you lean toward the spiritual...our souls.)

Recognise...& do your best. 

We are all humans, for chrissakes; doing the very best we can with this weird dealy we call LIFE.

When we put so much pressure on ourselves to be better- to do better- & when we accept the often unreasonable and unwarranted pressure OTHERS put upon us...

It can really fuck us up. 


Inevitably...we will end up taking it out on others.

Being waaaay too hard on them.

The main thing is to not be too hard on OURSELVES.

For then...

 

we are SUNK.

Memes to be screamed at. (or Screaming Memes...)

This is written in sweet new age cursive lettering, against a pretty aqua background...seems harmless enough at first glance.

But on closer inspection it screams EGO.

Does it not sound a little like it is suggesting we surround ourselves with ADORING FANS????


Let's do a little re-write.


"Surround yourself with giving, loving, kind and generous people...people who make you want to be a better, more loving, generous, kind & giving person.

& don't stop until something stops you."


That...I can live with.

The Last Post...

As another evening draws to a close, I should make particular mention of some people who said some very nice things about me today.

Insults- for whatever reason, burn me badly, & I seem to carry them around with me forever.

Compliments are too easily discarded because I'm not entirely sure I feel worthy of them.

However- if I am to learn to take compliments- I should at least acknowledge them.

So...thank you.  You know who you are.


Tonight, I am also thinking about the veterans.

I don't care whether your war was legal or not.  I have a soft spot for veterans.

Whether you see them as heroes or government pawns is neither here nor there.  The bottom line is, many of these soldiers were young men who really believed they were doing the right thing.

You know my views on war- of course it's an absurdity.

But I 'aint the one to judge.

I was a naive young man who joined the police force thinking it had something to do with justice.

More fool me.

Although the military and the constabulary cannot be compared- the choice to serve is much the same.

So, in my empathy...I feel a sense of obligation.


Next week...I will be helping out at the homeless veterans shelter.

To me...the words 'homeless' and 'veteran' do not belong in the same sentence.

I want to lend a hand- partly because I think it is the right thing to do- & partly because I want to listen.

Hear these men's stories.  Shut my yap for five minutes...Listen...& understand.

Show some compassion, & try to make a difference, instead of spouting dogma about how rotten war is, or the government is.

Humans are a war-like species.

I'm not going to solve that tonight, or even over the weekend.

Neither are you.

We might NEVER see an end to war.  Oblivion might find us first.

But in the meantime- while we wait for the big one- helping a few vets clear out their living space seems a damned sight better than bitching.

At least...until I can come up with a better idea.


To the veterans...

I know many of you feel betrayed; but I can't help but think...

We failed you, to a greater degree than you failed us.

Many of you truly did your best, to do what you thought was right.

What you were told was right.

My beef is not with you.


In any case...

Thank you for your service.


JWA

Potty Mouth...

Please forgive me if I have already covered this...but it's a topic worth revisiting & might be worth touching upon for the benefit of my new friends. 

I have something to say about my propensity for drawing attention to my bathroom parts- even though I am approaching 50. 

It happens from time to time; I seem to be drawn to discuss my privates. 

I can't seem to help myself. 

In this regard...I seem to slide into this (bad?) habit and revert to childhood. 

It's almost as if I haven't been properly toilet trained. 

I have been thinking about this for the last hour or so now...a part of me is bothered by it. 

But a part of me knows...it is something almost uncontrollable.

It seems to be my truth...& I will never shy away from my truth, because herein are often contained certain fundamental clues as to my persona, from which I can learn about myself. 

I think it's an interesting topic. 

At times...I find men's/my love for speaking about our/my Johnson quite tiresome and boorish. 

I'm a reasonably intelligent, spiritually attuned fellow; but I doubt I will ever be considered for PM or the Nobel Peace Prize, given my priors for talking freely and openly about my doodle.

I find something strangely...cathartic about raising the subject in a frivolous way occasionally. 

I assumed it had something to do with my sexual abuse as a child- but it might not have.

Maybe ALL men do it. 

Maybe most women do it. 

I have a feeling...my making light of these topics may have saved my life.  (given me a way to process my sexual molestation at a young age without going totally batty.) 

Many people in my position have killed themselves WAY before this. 

It is best left to the judgement of others whether this is a good thing or not.  I have certainly come to see any life as precious, so hence, see it as a positive. 

So...if this is how I process that early abuse...then more power to me, I guess.

But I can understand how some people might find it immature, and offensive.

I think as adults in a perpetual state of arrested development...we do what we can to survive... 

& rely on the kindness and patience of our friends. 

So thank you.

  

I Like Head.

I like my head.

& I especially like people who post their head in their profile pic on FB.

If you like your head, you probably like the rest of you.

And if you like all of you...you will likely like all of others.

I am an other...& that means you might like a-me.

And if I like-a me like you like-a you...& we like a-both-a same...

I LIKE THAT!!

Pregnant Paws...

And another thing. 

You won't hear men saying this very often, because it can be misinterpreted in so many ways by women that it's often better to keep your mouth shut- but the fact is...

I, and most of my friends, think pregnant women are very sexy indeed. 

She doesn't have to be my woman- pregnant with MY baby to be sexy. 

This isn't a power trip. 

Nothing to do with ownership, or any of that macho shit.

Man, I even have a book full of pregnant ladies, & it is the sexiest thing I have EVER seen.

This is it; " Pregnant Goddesshood: A Celebration of Life."

The book is a thing of beauty, as are the women contained therein.

So...if you are pregnant and feeling 'ugly' or 'fat'...

then you are also out of your mind. 

Revel in your beauty; the earth mother only has this very special glow for...nine?  nine months.

So make the most of it. 

You are SEXY AS HELL.

Key Master...

I was in the ghetto the other day, & a Latino gang banger asked me for a smoke. 

I gave him a couple, and he asked me if I was from OZ.  I confirmed his suspicions, and he instantly warmed to me. 

(It's funny, that.  We seem to be well liked.  It doesn't hurt a traveller to come from a country people like...especially in gang territory!) 

Anyway...then he asked me what I was doing in the ghetto. 

I told him I like it in the ghetto. 

He looked stunned. 

I told him, I have tried yacht clubs and I have tried ghettos...& I just prefer ghetto's. 

I like the honesty. I like the danger. I like to LEARN.

(& don't forget...I can LEAVE any time I want. THAT is the important bit.) 

Then he asked me how I could travel, being as how it's so expensive. 

Sigh...I looked at his burning cigarette, & I asked him; 'how many cigarettes a day do you smoke?'

He replied 'one, maybe two packs.' 

I said, 'you give up the smokes for a few months, you got airfare and walking around money right there.  Any country you want.'

He nodded in agreement.  'Damn!  You're right!'

Priorities, people, priorities.

How badly do you want your freedom?

How much do you love your prison???

Some of you guys are in prisons of your own making. 

Work with me here...I know you can set yourselves free.
 

You just need someone not from your life to show you where the key is...

Cramming.

Not everybody is a firecracker right off the blocks. 

I was born into complete mediocrity.  I had all the ambition of a block of cement.  I aspired to nothing, desired nothing...except to be left alone. 

And yet...motivation toward higher things dawned upon me over time. 

I'm not sure why...it just did. 

So now I am cramming a bunch of meaningful things into the last little bit of my life. 

That counts too.

Never too late, I guess... 

True North...

If you are TRULY interested in kindness as a way of life...you will always come back to it. 

Like True North...you won't be able to help yourself.

You will be drawn to it. 

And if not...something else will most surely attract you.

This is the way of the world. 

Fight it at your peril...

Or smash the compass under the heel of your boot and choose the wilderness of the soul....

Forever.  

Fullashit Daichi...

Once the Fullashit alarm has been tripped...there is generally no going back.

The toxins have begun to seep. 

By that I mean, that point in the relationship where you KNOW the other person is NOT built on a foundation of truth, does not mean what they say, and will not do what they say they are going to do. 

That point when you KNOW that person does NOT have your best interests at heart.

Of course it is worth noting...rarely will you find a person who has never behaved in this way.

Human beings are flawed creatures...& we make mistakes.

Forget things. 

Are distracted by our own woes to the point of carelessness.

Become so ill we do not know what we are doing.

Of course discretion is the better part of valour.

Of course it makes sense to give people several chances; it would be a very lonely place without some forgiveness. 

We ought to note that this should manifest as a pattern of behaviour.

So...when someone CONSISTENTLY lets you down, reneges on their word...and does not acknowledge it with a contrite heart...

This is generally the beginning of the end.

And the friendship seeps into the ocean, from whence it all began...

Handling Toxic Waste Effectively...

Damn, there are some poisonous people out there. 

Must be a sign of the times. 

I like the thing, 'if you can't say something nice...don't say anything at all'. 

Why?

Because there are enough REAL threats out there we can be directing our energy into. 

Like a nuclear reactor leeching toxins into the world FAR GREATER than the poison any single person can muster. 


I actually had a couple of people during the last week ask me what a 'Fukushima' was.

That fucking word...FUCKushima...should be on ALL of our lips!!

It should by now be woven into our very DNA!!

It will be the death of us, if we don't do something toot sweet!!

Under these kind of grave conditions...I re-iterate my blog the other day.


Fuck the haters. 

There are far more important matters.

Walk away and keep on going.


At times like these...of course I wonder if people are worth it.

Take Goethe- any Goethe.  At random...From 'The Sorrows of Young Werther'.

"The human race is a monotonous affair. Most people spend the greatest part of their time working in order to live, and what little freedom remains so fills them with fear that they seek out any and every means to be rid of it.”

Including taking it out on others. 

I see it ALL the time.

Then again...Goethe also said in 'Ill-humour'...

'then I see a human face...

back in love with humans.'


Humans are fickle. 

I am human.

Hence...also fickle.

I want to live. 

Which must mean...I want humans to live.

Because I am like ALL humans. 

I simply don't care to be assailed and circumvented by the petty fears and insecurities of others who have not as yet found a practical outlet for their pent up energy.

I have.

And I am convinced there ARE still enough decent folk out there worth saving.


Indeed...I think of the children, who actually have a RIGHT to behave like children.

If nothing else...

do it for the children.

Now...to take my own advice...

& throw my energy into the more pressing matters at hand.

http://fukushimarock.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-road-away-from-hell-is-paved-with.html

Home and Dry.

Your best investment for the future? 

Food. 

Large supplies of dry goods and filtered water. 

And somewhere to put them. 

& you, and your family.  

I'm not an 'end is nigh' kinda guy...but the writing is on the wall. 

It's coming.


An economic- and environmental- correction of epic proportions.

Biological Urge...

I am very definitely in favour of the evolution of my mortal soul. 

I wouldn't have devoted an entire blog to it if I didn't believe somehow, on some level, it was my prime imperative. 

Even if it all turns out to be bullshit created by my own brain to deny my impeding doom...

Or a giant ego trip...

I will carry on with it.

Regardless.
 
 
But it doesn't do to forget...

we are all basically animals.


As Richard Dawkins said, "Be warned that if you wish, as I do, to build a society in which individuals cooperate generously and unselfishly towards a common good, you can expect little help from biological nature."

What the devil wants...he gits.

& one more thing...

Just because you are an Evolving Soul...

Does NOT mean you have to take shit from savages. 

Bear in mind...there are some hateful hurtful brutes out there, who just like causing trouble, creating trauma and weaving a spell of mayhem wherever they go.  

They swoop from place to place, spreading their toxins all over town.

There is NO reasoning with these swine; they think black people are vermin, and environmentalists only fit for target practice.

You know the kind of oxygen thieves I mean. 

Scrape 'em off your boot, block em'...

whatever you have to do. 

One day...a real trash compactor will drive by and pick 'em all up. 


Censorship?

Of course not. 

I would no more spend time with a bigot, a racist, a hate monger...

than I would allow a piranha into my bathtub.

This is just basic common sense.

& those without common sense...will get left behind.

FAR behind...

& the devil gits the hindmost.  

Dawn on Me.

Isn't that interesting. 

Just about to send out a swag of letters to a bunch of bands...

& I am putting it off. 

Why? 

That smelly old rotten fuckin' chestnut 'what if they say no?' 


It's funny...my mind works like my camera. 

I film everything...but every once in a while...

I take a frame capture. 

& in that moment...I see a truth that I might not ordinarily have noticed.

& I can take the time to focus on it for a while.

Allow it to dawn on me.

Question it.


'What if they laugh at me?' 

Man...that shit is so old.  Probably why it is still in there.  

It's like...it attaches itself to your DNA early on in life...& never quite lets go. 

'what if they say no?'  'what if they laugh at me?' 


What if they do?? They can't KILL me!!!
 

That is just childish.

OF COURSE THEY WILL SAY NO!

Most of them will, anyway!

Most muso's are on some kind of gear or other...& they don't give a good goddamn if the world goes to hell in a bucket of shit!

What most of them want is a chunk of change!!  

But some of them care!

& if I don't get over that frightened little boy crap...I'll miss out on that one or two who might gladly say yes! 

Gotta' scrape that shit offen my boots, methinks...

Once and for all.

I'd send an SOS to the world...except the world is sending them to me.

 

 

I couldn't sleep last night. 

How many times have I said that by way of introduction to a piece of writing?

Too many times. 


Sometimes...I am insanely happy.

Sometimes...simply content with my lot.

Hopeful, and optimistic. 


Other days...I am terrified. 

Shit scared that we are sitting idly by while our future disappears down the plug hole.

I look back over my FB posts sometimes...

& it seems like my mood swings suggest something clinical.

Some sort of bi-polar disorder. 

This of course makes things easy and convenient for therapists and analysts.

Makes people readily classifiable and catego-risible. 

But I think it evades the real issue.


Some days I am optimistic. 

Some days I am not. 

Some days I am happy...

But then other days I fall back into depression. 


And I naturally depressive?

Or naturally cheerful?

Both?  Or neither?

I'll tell you what I think it is. 

I think I am a person who WANTS to be optimistic...

Knows the VALUE to myself and those around me of being jovial and hopeful...

BUT I also know it is a LIE to deny those things which seem perched, ready to send the species to it's doom. 

& who wouldn't be worried about these things that will send us all to our certain death?


A truly insane person. 

& hence...in our doomed attempts to walk a straight line, while being torn from wild optimism to wild pessimism...

We feel perpetually unbalanced. 

I would go one further; I am of the opinion that the emotional prevarication many of us experience in our day to day lives is a replication of the wild mood swings that can be seen in nature...

Seen occurring on a planet that is beginning to show the effects of the trauma we have put her through...

& she is sending the same trauma right back to us.


Right back to me. 

For I can feel it- and it is keeping me awake at night. 
      

I might not be insane.

Perhaps I am a sane person, reacting not unreasonably to insane things that are happening to the planet. 

Insane things WE are responsible for.


I was lying awake, thinking of strange & curious things last night. 

Mainly Fukushima, and the impeding financial crises. 


Should I put my slowly eroding savings into Gold?

Nope...that has dropped 25% in value, and looks set to drop another 25% in the next twelve months.


Then I realised...what am I talking about?

Can I eat gold? 

No. 

It's basic, really. 

I times of crises, when economic systems look like collapsing and our food, water and air are polluted by radiation...

These are not times to be looking at any other investment options but FOOD.

Clean, nourishing food. 

Grains and oats, rice, tinned food, etc.

& shelter.

Supplies of fresh water.


It's getting time to hunker down and dig in. 

I'm sorry to say.


That's the problem with those who are money hungry.

Even when there is lava in the living room...

The Loot Lovers are looking for the next investment opportunity. 


Humans with souls know that without life...

There is nothing else to invest in.


By the time I did finally fall asleep at about 5am...after a couple of little helpers...

I had weird apocalyptic dreams.

I was heading out of a collapsing city (I think it was Chicago) for greener pastures, & I realise that on my way out, the roads were flanked with palm trees like the ones at the start of 'Apocalypse Now'.

I stopped to look at them...

& I realised the City of Chicago had created a Mayan theme park on the highway out of town. 

Suddenly...I was swooped by a Police Chopper. 

The Chopper hovered in mid air...& I watched as the thing hung precariously vertically, as if dangled by it's tail within the thumb and forefinger of God. 

I knew they were in trouble, so I pulled out my camera and filmed it all. 

After that...I woke up. 


This is either a random piece of night time entertainment crafted by an overactive brain...



Or a cry for help. 

Time of Reflection...

  

Tortoise Taught Us...

This is all leading somewhere.

You think it isn't...but if your heart is still beating...

it is. 

The problem might be...you are so used to instant gratification. 

RAH RAH RAH!!!  they all cry.

WIN!!  WIN!!!

Kill the other guy before he kills you!

Survival of the fittest!

& in your down time?

A shot of alcohol to the heart?

The hit of a joint to the brain? 

some crank?  speed?

Even a movie with shooting, exploding, sex and loud music. 

Hit the button...the movie of your choice.

On demand.

DEMAND DEMAND!!

Any kind of high to get the heart beating...

When maybe...

we should slow it down a little.

If you slow it all down...like the Buddhist monks...you will see the little details. 

The little changes. 

The tiny wins.  Almost imperceptible to the human eye.

Rush past them too fast...& you will get a result, sure-

but maybe not the one you heart and soul NEED. 

Slow it down...take a deep breath, look around you, and recognise...

This is ALL leading somewhere good.

Gift.

I heard someone today say she 'Needs beautifying'.

I see you...& I be you.

It is not only women who think they need 'improvement' somehow.

For me? It is weight. An ongoing battle with the midriff. & I fear it has more to do with vanity than health. Sad, really.

Of course...everybody knows...if we do not feel beautiful inside- then any external modification shall remain just that- a battle.

& one we will lose.

I should read my own posts; the other day I wrote about how truth comes from within, not without.

So too does our sense of self.

At risk of sounding like some kind of sufi (I assure you, not for the last time, I have nothing to sell...) you are ALL beautiful.

WE are all beautiful.

Perhaps we ought appreciate our gifts more...lest we lose them forever.

We Can Be Heroes...

In view of how upsetting it is for so many people that I ask questions, challenge the mob, try to see things from all points of view and strive never to make assumptions about anybody without inquiring further- I shall delete the previous post.

One never knows what is going on in another person's life to make them so cruel & thoughtless.  

Perhaps someone has been cruel and thoughtless to THEM.

I would simply ask you to try to think twice- then think again. 

& not get offended if I do it. 

Because you don't know what in my life has led me to think it is so important to TRY to ask questions, exercise a little compassion, and see things from all sides.  

Don't just follow the popular view because it is viral.  Because one day...

the mob might be after YOU. 

I was young and ignorant once- believe it or not. 

And it need not have been because I was abused- I may have simply been born young and stupid. 

I like to think I got better, with time and experience. 

I certainly try; & any grace I might have is borne of the compassion YOU- my friends- have shown ME...even when it was unpopular to do so. 

You know who you are- & YOU taught me how to be kind and patient.

Or at least, try to. 

Just bear in mind for me- if you are quick to judge every young stupid person who did/said/posted something ignorant- then you judge me. 

For I AM- OR HAVE BEEN AT ONE TIME- AS BAD AS ANY OTHER WRONGDOER. 

The quality of mercy is not strained; and EVERONE deserves a fair trial.

I know it's hard to be patient with the ignorant...(& if I have any heroes in this life- one of them has to be my friend Ken Moller, who is patient, understanding and forgiving to a fault...)

& I KNOW he is a role model to me in this.

Which is why I feel it is so important.

It's EASY to like the likeable.

NOT so easy to show compassion for the ignorant, the flawed, the misguided...

Even the cruel. 


I'm certainly no Dalai Lama.  

But I just KNOW I will be a better man for trying.

I know it.

BUCKET-HEAD

It's about time I introduced you guys to "BUCKET-HEAD".

With great Bucket...comes great responsibility...

you...& everyone around you.

While we are on the subject of truth...

Here is another one. 

In the words of the late Phil Lynott...'YOU...can do anything you wanna' do.'

It's not wrong what I say...it's true. 

'But wait',  I hear them say.

'I have expenses!  I have to work at a shitty job!'

Some of these poor misguided souls do everything short of holding their children and their mortgages up to my face. 

They seem to almost wave them in front of me, shrieking 'It's alright for you!  You don't have a family!  You don't owe the bank!!'

Right. 

Those were MY choices. 

Yours were YOURS.



My mother once said one of the wisest things I have ever heard. 

I am paraphrasing, but it went something like this;

"Whether you like it or not NOW...

all your choices were PRECISELY what you wanted to do at the time. 

So like it...or shut the fuck up.

(Mum didn't say that last bit...I did.)


Deep down...people love to hurt others to assuage the pain of the choices they have made.

It's nothing personal.  Just venting.

A kind of 'passing the buck'. 

People tell me I am lucky to live the way I do, and be free. 

Doing exactly what I want to do. 

Luck? 

I am the sum total of ALL my choices- just as you are.

I have made some dreadful choices.  Some of which I am still paying for.

But at least I was FREE to choose.

As were YOU.

Even though it might help you to think to the contrary.

And at least- as badly as it might have turned out-

at least we CHOSE.

Acted. 

Instead of sitting there, paralysed. 

Like stale bottles of piss.


Bottom line?

I am not sorry I did not have kids. 

I am not sorry I am not mortgaged to the hilt. 

I am not sorry I did not marry...& then a few years down the track...engage in a costly divorce.

I made other choices. 

You will NEVER make me feel bad for those choices. 

No matter what you say...

I had the SAME opportunities as you.

Came down the same kind of canal as you. 

I was brought up in a housing commission area, and copped every kind of abuse imaginable.



I am no better off than you.

I might be worse. 

If you are looking for someone to blame...

It 'aint me, babe. 

No one asked you to marry.

It is not illegal to refuse to spawn. 

In fact, given the overpopulation statistics...

it might be better you didn't. 

And no one asked you to subsidise the coffers of some bank to prop up a dream that has turned into a nightmare. 

No one asked you to buy a house.

I don't care where it is, or what it is worth. 

I can sleep in a tent. 

I might get a bit smelly- but I can live in the street.

I have lived in the street.

On a beach!  Give me a beach, and I am happy!


I saw a beautiful tent the other day for under 100 dollars. 

And I drive past miles and miles of land to pitch it on. 

You can do anything you want to do. 

Please don't do what you feel you ought. 

& PLEASE don't blame others for the choices YOU made. 

Have some guts...and OWN your choices.

For to do otherwise...

Is a living HELL.

For you...everyone around you.


 

 

Notes from the Boulevarde...

I'm afraid this isn't going to be one of those encouraging new agey blogs about the value of following your dreams and making all your wishes come true. 

If anything- this is going to be more like a funeral. 

And a funeral is for the family of the dead- and close friends. 

So unless you are a close friend or family member- I KNOW there are many more interesting things on the web than a bloody funeral. 

So here is the eulogy.

I just woke up from a terrible dream. 

I dreamt the film I have been working on for four years- a film I put all my time, savings, hopes & dreams into- was put into the hands of a friend I have just had a terrible falling out with.

It was an ugly ending to a difficult friendship. 

Sadly, she has been consumed by the Hollywood thing, which drained her of her very soul.

It happens.  It, too, is the dark side of the dream. 

But this is not about her- it is about me. 

& add insult to the injury- the wound made by the loss of her friendship- she took my film, and cut the guts out of it, until it ran no more than a minute and a half. 

It is...was...supposed to be a feature.

It was at that moment...I realised the dream was over. 

Before the actual dream was over.

You often hear stories of people's dreams coming true.

You hear less about those dreams that do not. 

Probably for good reason; because no one would watch the show. 

Who wants to hear the truth?  That not ALL dreams come true, no matter how star-spangled and worthwhile, ground breaking and earthshattering they might seem at the outset?

Which brings me back to the original purpose of this blog.

I actually think dreams are like a funeral. 

An official way for the soul to let go of something.

Life is about learning to let go of things every day...

In preparation for our eventual death.

At some point...even 'dreams' need to be released when they have failed.

And our actual, physical dreams help us to do that.

I thought it was fascinating it was a lost friend who took the film, and helped me bury it, by cutting the guts out of it.

And by doing so...she helped me bury her. 

Two funerals for the price of one. 

So now?  Now what do I do?

I do what any mourner does. 

I either die of grief (& believe me...I have been doing than inside where people cannot see for almost a year.)

Or I shake it off, and move on.

How?

Hey, I didn't invent grief.  Hundreds, thousands of people every day are grieving over something.

I do what they do. 

I move on.

somehow.

The dream is now officially over.

& like Van Halen said...

'dream another dream.  this dream is over...'

Woodstocktake.

 

Sometimes, while I'm exploring America- I swear I get a sense of these vague distant echoes of the 'Spirit of Woodstock'. 

Only very occasionally, but it happens. 

I don't know how- I wasn't there. 

& I'm not entirely convinced everyone in America was in agreement about what Woodstock was, or whether it even mattered to more than a small percentage of the population at the time. 

But I can feel something- & it's like flashes of...Woodstock.

I get the sense- Woodstock touched EVERYBODY- in one way or another.

Whether they were there or not.

Whether they were even alive when it happened- or not.

It was a time of great tragedy- but also great hope, wonder...

& an abiding sense of what was possible. 

If human beings we were united under the banner of LOVE.

It seemed something very special was within the reach of ordinary people in concert.

I even get goosebumps just reading Hunter Thompson's 'wave speech'. 

It must be something to do with the collective unconscious...

Or it might be nothing at all-

just a dream. 

or maybe I just need a dose of medicine.

Perhaps this all sums up the Spirit of Woodstock.

Perhaps...


God, I love this country.