Archive for June, 2015

Be careful of upsetting the government – who they view as a traitor, one worthy of stripping citizenship from, it may change daily. Definitions are somewhat blank and fail to understand idealism and disillusionment created by the very system that fuels the government, that which fosters exclusion.

Scum, breeding machines, cigarette smoke, obesity, f-words, c-words, banalities and offensiveness, general crapiness with a lack of any kind of discipline and/or self-respect, they so often validate themselves by having a dog to walk (it’s good to “own” a creature beneath one’s self).

I wonder how anyone in this current world can take a walk through the white trash town I did today and not want to run away and do every thing they can for IS.

I suddenly get *it*.

Pieces of shit should be flushed.

Yes, I went to quite some effort, went through a special kind of anguish to even get to the starting line, and I truly gave it my all (ultimately, it felt good!). I feel better about myself, somehow, for my exertion, but I am left feeling hollow for your lack of reply. Sigh, I guess you’re too caught up in your own banalities. I could take it as a confirmation that you’re beneath me and, really, contemptible, the shit you produce, I should be aiming higher, but still. Still. Yes, stillness would be nice. Peace and quiet and calm. … Screw (to hell with!) the distractions front, side and back.


Posted: 2015-06-28 in Thoughts For The Day

I would have imagined that 18 months of sweat and similar effort would’ve rounded the sharp edges, but no. Steel is harder than human effort. And yet, it is we, humans, who make steel, something stronger (better?) than us. How can this be?

You listen to the words others say, listen. How incredibly petty they often are. Adults sounding more petulant than children, making no sense at all, when you listen to their words.

You hear them, it makes you shake your head, it makes you cringe, to be the presence of these cretins. (Sigh…) Your internal voice speaks calmly and eloquently, rationally, in your mind’s ear you sound like an ancient Greek philosopher.

Sigh, why can’t be just accept that we’re all in this world together, like, get on, co-exist, make the most of here and now and each other, love and be loved.

Problem is, if you actually listen to your own words, likely you’ll hear how petty, hateful and juvenile you are too.

We all are: ruled by emotion and baseness, hurt and manipulation, spite and irrational urges, voices in our heads and personal demons. The measure of a well-rounded person is how well they cope with it all, the shit, and how they treat others in turn. The conformists resort to banalities in their interactions, the masters strive for illumination. We all should at least try.


Posted: 2015-06-26 in Thoughts For The Day

Waiting. Yes, waiting. For something, you’re waiting. You’re not sure what, but you think you’ll know it when it comes. You hope it’s worth the wait. And you fill in the time, whilst waiting, idly and digitally, one way or another, on your device or mobile, if you’re lucky.


Posted: 2015-06-25 in Thoughts For The Day

Yes, it’s a noble profession. You observe, you present facts, you report. You keep your opinions silent, solemnly. You inform. You expand, explain. … And, hey, of course some kind of informed prejudice has to come into it. Righteously.

Yeah, fuck you TV preacher! I’m sick of your jabber. You don’t get it, what it’s like to be one of us, the downtrodden.

You live in your mansion, you fly in your private jet to get to your next speaking engagement, limo escort through the streets.

I live in a shitty apartment, project full of crack, meth and death. I walk streets and catch the subway, to my dead-end job which pays slavery rates. I despair of my life, feel a need to escape, I turn on the TV (during my all-too-brief “downtime”), looking for a message of hope, some relief. I get to hear you, motherfucker, and your twisted message of supposed-Christianity. You tell me that we all got the same 24 hours in the day (so, quit complaining!), that we need to work with gladness in our hearts, that we reap what we sow, that we got to trust God enough to give of our “earnings” to the church, that by giving we will get so much (but, Christian, that ain’t actually why you give…). There’s no law under the covenant of grace but, hey, there’s a special biblical principle of tithing.

Fuck, cunt, why don’t you just be honest and tell the audience that all this hoopla has a cost involved and if they all want to keep being entertained (spiritually nourished?), they need to contribute some coin? Shit, your mansion-running-costs must make the eternal telethon some kinda imperative.

While we live in squalor and bondage.

Fuck, last week you told us all that we needed to labor to enter into the rest. To trust God. To listen to the spirit within. To rest, be at ease, peace. Ahhh. … MOTHERFUCKER! What the fuck happened?

I should’ve known – you evangelicals, always with a trophy wife (who somehow always also happens to have a pastor’s gift), ring loud and hollow – preachers should be celibate (I’ve always thought so). Celibate, or at least publicly so. And humble.

In the midst of ecstasy (or is it some kind of happy banality?), I have time to reflect and consider: Yes, indeed, I haven’t had this much fun since Miss Natura 1986… or was it Bindoon Rock 1987? … Shit! I don’t remember. It’s hard to quantify happiness.

I try to tell my companion something about each event. Sadly, the awesomeness is lost of her.

“Shit! You’re so old you probably remember when airlines were generous and gave out socks for the passengers to wear. Huh, when the cost of a ticket bought you a crappy meal.”

Yes, that’s true, I do remember. It was Miss Natura 1986! And I still wear a pair of those synthetic socks around the house.


No, sad is you finger-fucking your phone for hours on end.

Intelligentsia stays up late, thinking.

Others have to get to bed early, to rest and prepare for the hard work of repeating their drudgery tomorrow.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Blah, blah, blah.

I see the gaps in this train of conversation but I am too tired to make an intervention.

In my mind I’m somewhere else. …