Thursday, February 26, 2015
Wednesday, February 25, 2015
You may remember the story of how the devil and a friend of his were walking down the street, when they saw ahead of them a man stoop down and pick up something from the ground, look at it, and put it away in his pocket. The friend said to the devil, "What did that man pick up?" "He picked up a piece of Truth," said the devil. "That is a very bad business for you, then," said his friend. "Oh, not at all," the devil replied, "I am going to let him organize it."
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
It was he who was
of the alone.
Eleven years of drought,
the rocks are sick.
The world is dying.
Evil is a trick.
~introduction, opening credits
I will die now.
or the bench will crack from sadness.
Do not move
The water, the earth and the sun turn black.
God in His Perplexity,
pretends it's His Will.
reads a line in the sky.
"Don't set your eyes
on the salt sea shore.
Don't reason. Don't argue.
Don't ask us why.
Fate will send you a lover,
and one friend more."
~line read in the sky by Francisco
There is no place here for bloodsuckers.
~gold mine owner
Euclides (hunchback barkeeper): It's only my chest and shoulders that are crooked - at night... I always dream I have to carry a whole mountain range on my back.
Francisco Manoel: You stand taller than the whole town.
Francisco Manoel: And where does the snow come from?
Euclides: You'll see it out there! There's always snow on the moon! That's why it's always white! White and cold. You have to look very carefully.
Francisco Manoel: And why is that?
Euclides: It's because the moon.. takes the water out of the ocean. And when night falls... the tips of the mountains attract the snowflakes. But only as much as the salt we have in our tears.
Francisco Manoel: And here on earth?
Euclides: It's very far away - you must keep going west. Four years on horseback... and ten on foot. And after that, there are high mountains. They rise higher and higher - right over the clouds. And then above the clouds, then you find the snow. It only falls in the night-time. Just like feathers. But it only falls... from above the clouds. And then the whole world turns light as a feather - and snow white! Even the lions turn white... and the eagles... the rabbits get a snowy coat... and all the animals in the world turn white! And when you're walking through the snow... your feet don't weigh anything at all. And the little snowflakes go flying up in the air... just like feathers
I never had a friend in all my life.
Francisco Manoel: Your money or your life.
Woman: My life.
Woman: And why are you barefoot? Don't you have any shoes?
Francisco Manoel: I don't trust shoes.
I long to go forth from here to another world.
I have nothing to lose
I don't have to talk to anybody.
Taparica: Aren't you afraid? Aren't you afraid of dying?
Francisco Manoel: I never tried it..
The mad king's wives: Dada, breathe for me! Dada, steal from me. Dada, break my bones. Take me! My head is yours. My body is yours. Take me. It's yours. I'm all yours. Dada! Please!
I'll thatch my roof with the skulls of my enemies.
I can not hear what you are saying, for the thunder that you are.
In this place, the dead are more alive than the living.
He says yes to anything,
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Found this quote on Facebook today. And when I first read it, the thought appealed to me. I mean, who wouldn't rather be the lion in the story, right?
Buddhism, mindfulness, all that stuff appeals to me quite a bit. But I'm never able to actually embrace the whole of it because when I look too closely at the teachings, the writings of Milarepa, for example, I see rules, judgment, and dogma. Right away, I'm wanting to break the rules, and poke at the status quo.
Yes, I agree that we all take life on earth way too seriously, and I love the idea that it's all a grand illusion, that we are merely actors on a stage, taking on different roles. Sure, I can go there. I actually believe it. But hey, if I'm going to be an actor in this bone chilling, skin wrenching, heart clenching, mind blowing show called ShirleyTwofeathers, I want to be in it all the way. I want to feel it, to taste it, and grab onto it just as desperately and determinedly as I am to avoid it completely.
I guess that's why hiding in a cave in the Himalayas, owning nothing, responsible for nothing, doing nothing, being nothing, eyes fixed and vacant, totally detached from everything and everyone, sounds so appealing to me. Enlightenment, yogi style, is the ultimate escape from living my real life.
But that's not what I came here to do. That's not who I want to be. And it's not who I am right now. And so I give up my dream of being an enlightened and scary lion. I will continue chasing the sticks my mind throws... and running around crazy with them... chewing them... shredding them all over the carpet... then asking for one more time... one more time... one more time... until finally and at last I fall asleep, stick still in my mouth, smelling like wet dog and dead wood.
Friday, February 20, 2015
My retarded blog post about "Gag Me With A Fork" led me to this really cool art page... Inspiration Green - check it out... Deeply reinforces what a loser I am since I'm sitting here mindlessly blogging about nothing when I could be making art with the junk that surrounds me.
I love this one because it looks so easy to reproduce and play around with. It's made out of garden hoses and faucet handles:
I love this next one because it looks so impossible:
|Art by Sayaka Ganz|
So this is me giving up on the idea of a clever "gag me with a fork blog post"
and sharing a picture by someone else about someone else instead.
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
Wow! It's been a long time since I blogged about anything, and even longer since I blogged something that wasn't self serving, or found somewhere else, but was - instead - deeply personal and intimate. I've been too busy wallowing in the mire of self pity, self doubt, regret, angst and guilt. I totally hate getting older and older and still not feeling like I have actually lived up to even my mildest aspirations.
What I have been doing is hiding out, becoming more and more reclusive, avoiding the internet entirely, reducing my circle of friends to the few who dare to push their way in (meaning nobody), hanging tight with my family, doing the barest of minimums every day, and burying myself in the Sims 2. Creating elaborate neighborhoods and scenarios, and pretty much losing myself in the fantasy of a game where I can always get what I want, where lifetime happiness can always be achieved, and friends and family can be found and created with only a little bit of effort.
I was starting to feel as if I was dying a slow death of lethargy and immobility. Actually, it was more like I had already died inside and was just waiting for my circumstances and my body to catch up with me. The walking dead... that was/is me. Shambling through the shambles of a life I have allowed to fall down around me.
Sometimes, the numbness would give way to a sort of nameless anxiety, that "Oh God!" feeling of having forgotten something really really important. And sometimes I would have glimpses of ... I would almost feel something ... like grief, a desperate sorrow, a heart clenching longing for ... I don't know what. Home maybe? That comes closest to describing it... something sure to hold on to, fall into, belong to, be enfolded in... And that, of course, was very uncomfortable and immediately sedated with food, television, the Sims, whatever was immediately available.
So what happened? And why am I here, blogging it?
Well, it was interesting (at least to me), because everything I know about life I've learned from playing The Sims, and in the game it was becoming more and more apparent that in order to get along in life, in order to achieve lifetime happiness, it is extremely helpful to have people. And I started trying to figure out how to have people in my real life without actually having to go anywhere or do anything. Which is partly what social media is all about. You can have a bunch of "friends" and never have to interact with them at all. I know this is true because I have 520 facebook friends, and not including my family, I actually know less than 20 of them, and maybe only 1 or 2 of them have my actual phone number.
At the same time, I realized that much of my lethargy and angst is fueled by regret. All the things that I did that I wish I hadn't done, all the things I didn't do that I wish I had done, so much that I could'a - should'a - would'a ... if only... and I really didn't know what to do with all that. So because everything else I know about life I've learned from books, movies, and television, I thought I'd take a page from the Debra Morgan book of coping with the un-cope-able, and do some time on the treadmill. Remember Deb from Dexter running and running on the treadmill, working it out that way? Well, running is beyond my capabilities at this point, but I figured I could at least do some walking. And I have to tell you... it turned into yet another form of self torture. I tried just walking slow, I tried walking fast, I tried walking and watching television, I tried rewarding myself for walking, I tried listening to music and walking - which worked best, by the way - and ultimately the music was what saved me. But not yet...
It occurred to me that maybe what I needed was religion, a spiritual experience that could be revisited, something that would give me absolution, and comfort, and a reason to get up every morning and carry on.... Something larger than my baggage, my bullshit, my perennial self doubt... So I talked to my angels, and I talked to my guides... all the while convinced that they were disappointed and disgusted by my failure to make something special and interesting with my life, and had left me long ago in search of someone better, someone more authentic and real.
I looked up churches in the yellow pages, I contemplated becoming a Catholic. "Forgive me father for I have sinned" sounded very appealing to me. Plus, there would be - you know - actual people there. But in the end, you have to believe in that stuff for it to work, and while I am a believer in some things, I am not a believer in the conventional sense, and mainstream religions with their rules and dogma do not appeal to me, I have never been a rule follower, or a believer in dogma. I am an asker of questions, a skeptic, a rebel, and a rule breaker... there's no church that I could find where I thought there was even the remotest chance of fitting in or finding what I was looking for.
Then, suddenly, surprisingly, my angels and guides came through for me and gave me... a church to go to, someone to listen to, something to cling to, and no - not comfort, not absolution, but something real that (right now anyway) resonates so deeply it has brought me out of my lethargy, and back to the world of maybe not the living, but certainly the not quite dead.
So what was it? This is the strangest life I've known... because when I asked for Church, when I asked for spiritual guidance, when I asked for something that would give me back my connection to life, I got The Doors and Jim Morrison. And I'm like... really? And yet from the moment I played that CD I have felt more alive, more understood, more real, more OK with the mess I have made with my life, than I have in years. So, of course (since I never do anything half way) I got the movie, and every DVD I could get my hands on... all the CD's... the books...
And here I am online again, looking to connect with the larger world. Morrison's voice resonating in my head, unable to just sit and mindlessly play the Sims, thinking that maybe, just maybe it might be possible to break on through to the other side.