Here is a man

Conceptions, confusion, misgivings abound…

What is the man who has endured a lifetime of drink?

Here he exists, not as a conception or theory, but in physical form. Still with the dignity to wash, comb, and style his hair —parted and slicked back. With the vital energy of his eyes long extinguished, he nervously examines my presence. It is obvious that this man was quite attractive before life, without restraint, demonstrated its erosive potential.

He is introduced to me, but simply can’t look me in the eye, or even acknowledge my presence. This, it seems, stems not from callousness or an obnoxious disposition, but from having basic social graces ground down and extricated. They had to go, or over the years, his capacity for survival would be limited.

Perhaps I remind him of what he used to be, before his faculties cruelly and calculatingly dissipated in to nothing. He has been sober for three days, and his hands shake with the frenetic consistency of a pneumatic tool.

The likelihood, it is said, of him attaining any enduring amount of sobriety is slight. His biology has morphed to accept and even embrace the regular intake of alcohol. His physiology and psychology are damaged. For us all life proceeds one day at a time, but his decline, from this point forward will be rapid.

What are his chances? What are the odds that he overcomes his current state of affairs, attains measured sobriety, and leads a life that the majority could ascribe value to? What will it require for those passing him on the street to transition from dismissive glares to a form of eye contact that indicates respect?

What do the experts, psychologists, and myriad ‘professionals’ claim is his problem? What is the origin of his affliction? Does he suffer from an illness, a disease, or just a defunct willpower mechanism? Has it been a choice up until this point, and does he have options? With what amount of purpose and direction has this man exercised over his life? What has been the corroding thread of his near linear decline?

This man, and many others like him, our symbolic of our current age, but instead of illuminating, discussing, and diagnosing these symbols we have generated a variety of explanations to dismiss and rationalize them.

The Chances That Glory Creates

Glory doesn’t exist in death, this is an illusion sold by many to further aims, or a misconception believed for an imagined increase in life’s value. It is a personal experience, many  times the situations leading to death are a result and relation to will and the opinions held of motives add the ideas of worth which shade the minds of the dying, the saved, the killer, the killed, this romantization acts as a veil through which life is fair, unjust, through which worth is guaged and what is looked through or what covers the land where decision is made. So what is it when one dies, if there is no glory, no praise in the after? It is the decision, or it is the action, or it is the knowledge, or it is the manipulation that convinces pulls and directs us to sacrifice, destruction,survival, apathy, and where is the Glory? Why do they want it? Die doing what is lived and there is no room for negative or positive, only the bodies of those who are living and those dead, until they all disappear to be used again. The memories of those who died are great and give opportunity to debate what is life, but they don’t have the bodies that we crave to hold dear, they offer only guidance and chances, realization and emotion. Their death is a physical continuation of their life. Where came the idea of nobility in dying, in new purpose, in redemption of an unworthy life, in a glorious sacrifice, an honourable passing? Just like other existances death can be filled with emotion, have had purpose, intent, can send waves of impact just as a confession, can be meaningless, spiteful, un-noticeable… Does it matter? By attempting change or sacrafice you die, you kill, you make reason existance. “It’s not you but who you leave behind” the middle aged man said. What goes with that life? Your relationships, fast, known or not, strong or weak, they end but it is true: the repurcussions will not be felt by you. So there is no choice idealistically but you may recognize the impact even after an unconscious series of one’s final moments. You may die in peace, a passing not of bloody action, but expected, gentle, and then as you walked by a tree you were gone, no more personality, no laughing, but a content passing or being eaten to pass away the body, and disperse energy… So what is all the pining for an important death for? It could be said that your death is a reflection of your life, if you hold those ideas. It could be said that death is the continuation of other death, if you hold those ideas. Where are those who say that unconscious is superior to conscious? That presence is the only existance? They are dying and it is curious to see the impact of their death. I want to show you what I think, and I want to learn about what you think. Move upwards for an expansive vision, be superior in mind or physically, untouchable to the available inventions and give new reason for further thought, reaching, combinations, you should have no fear as you run the wind alongside and increasingly closer to death. Make no decisions… there is no reason for choice when life throws it’s opportunities at you based on such seemingly trifle actions such as thoughts, desire, lifestyle, physical necessities. When the goal is known, the means are available. Who told you death is special? Forget living after you are dead, those ideas will do not much more than decrease the impact you have the potential to create, live strongly so that you may be able to feel better those lower, do not satisfy your mind with an idea of the dead conscious, live their worthy ideas and love to improve where we all are. The glory is sexual, it is copulation, it is the creation, the passing and teaching in a multiplying and connected area of persons, why focus on where your animal leads you? Why worry about passions and giving in, succumbing and melting through the heat of angels you give of, you are still searching for a continuous place to die. Where are your points? Where are those locations, those reasons which you may use to anchor, to swim to, to see, to put your self on course for, that primary goal you may use to encounter change, meet those alto opportunities you count on? Who cares what you see… you are the only one who understands it in the way you do, or who can appreciate the impact it may have on you, or influence you, or lead to changes that seem obvious in the front of your mind. Discover, discover, discover, set traps to increase the quality of life by way of ambition, give to those people, ideas, communities, realms you imagine and believe in, knowing them as worthy of your time and efforts. Take from those of before and after that you respect, watch the benefits pile before in elements of love, success, knowledge and comfort – don’t forget but be willing to sacrifice. The end is known, the end is made… In the middle make life better, as there is a dynamic unknown that contributions improve, greater, and it begs for stimulation. What is that behind the desire for recognition? The desire to move, to innovate, to stand under and stand over, the personal recognition of limits and possibilities, reaching and broadening.

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The Stars, April 2014

The stars, if not universal, are and have been important to those of us that are able to think here on planet earth. It does not take an indepth scientific knowledge to appreciate in a simple manner the stars, though a more knowledgable view could lead to appreciation and understanding in a new way, but it has been evident through history that people have appreciated them for different reasons and that is no less correct now. The importance of stars, constellations, the moon cannot be undervalued in this generation, people having a tendency to cast eyes down on their own era, but though new knowledge has opened doors to interpret them in different ways, it is the traditional, simple and not time-tempered method of appreciation which is most important – that of recognition. Though those who enable greater views through study of skies, through astrology, cartology, cadastrology or astronomy and its ability to give us insight into the creation of our universe gives us the ability to travel farther in all meanings of those words, right now I am interested in the simple recognition felt by those doing the travelling, making the tangible changes we appreciate at all times unless one is one who rejects progress, a disgusting ape whose purpose is to have us question the morality and reason behind technology and exploration. The stars offer a familiar unknown that knowledge will not change, for it is the familiarity which draws comfort, not the mystery. One who explores the whole world, crossing cultures and many kinds of boundaries will look and find stars and the skies a constant, and a constant reminder of the relative unimportance of earth. It is cliché but for good reason that the stars are home to many, the many including explorers, those wandering without love, those working and living through travel and the love, conscious or not, for the skies, is universal in that it has preference to or by noone- it crosses culture, beliefs, status and style, never stopping its amazing rotations. If you dont believe me then take a look at the stars, at the moon, now or whenever it is possible. If you think I am wrong I would not like to change your point of view, but when you look at them is there no feeling of familiarity? No substance inside that directs you to hold a healthy desire for these orbs, flashing and full, and the flat seeming disc which generously lights the leaves and rocks where you walk? That is a very romantic way of putting it, but there requires no evidence to show yourself what you feel for the stars. Without this initial appreciation we would have no knowledge, no progression, an existance which at this time does not exist.

What else would I be able to compare this familiar appreciation of the stars with? They are not possible to be interacted with, they stimulate (directly) only one of the five sense, they have presumably been around longer than earth and will likely remain afterwards. Though it is tempting to compare the skies with local plants, flowers one has become accustomed to, the comparison is not apt enough. I hate to do it, but I find them best compared with religion, with the religious views of GOD. For defense, this isn’t implying an existance or non-existance of a God, that fact is irrelevant. It is the same response for the stars, the familiar distant desire, as those who feel for god feel god. Anyways, it can be seen clear as day the effect stars have on culture and society, and though they are not exactly worshipped, they are appreciated by those high and low. Perhaps a comparison is not necessary- though one might exist, is it it really raising the value of the stars to compare them? (! Note at bottom of this page says: like a mosquito trying to suck blood out of a rock) Is it possible to raise or lower the value of the stars? The only people unable to appreciate the stars and skies are those with their freedom stripped away, those without sight, and those without will. If you have not been chained under a roof and can see, what is there to stop you from looking, giving that part some call soul a drink? If you find yourself wandering, or in any case under the stars, try looking up, try recognizing something. It has always been a sign of submission to cast your eyes downward, so why not put them up? Take whatever you like and understand what is there to be understood, if you can, and take pleasure out of that which you cannot control. There is nothing in life that has not happened and passed, so trust that what comes will benefit you, will make you stronger, will help you see your own goals and those of the large panorama. But of course there are new ideas, new concepts, new technology that builds off of previous and now we can fly- but it is saying that new has been ushered before and always will, so you might be best off understanding and moving with the new, unless a legacy of extinction is your goal. How is it, now we can fly? Man’s greatest wish for generations and more is true. The act of looking to the skies and seeing humans is new and for many the novelty is gone, it is a logically sound, supported and efficient way to travel. Why Not? It brought us one step closer to the stars, the up, where clearly by now we even have exponentially surpassed levels towards them. What is there to complain about when we go forward? If there has ever been a time to look at stars and determine how they have impacted us, where our appreciation for them will take us, what they mean to you personally, now might be it. Do you work in a field where an appreciation or understanding for the stars benefits you? Have you generally noticed them through your life? Don’t take them for granted, it was the stars that led to human flight. This view is constructive, not destructive: in at least seeing the impact the stars have made on us as society, as humans or deeper, personally, it encourages forward growth along the same path, or in an other way encourages a rebellion against it, with attempts to ground, to stabilize, which adds only an opportunity for the general forward motion to surpass this obstacle, giving an opportunity to experience higher velocity and the uncovering, the violent stripping away of the coverings which lay above innovation. How deep do you want to go? Do you want to stay at the surface, accepting whatever is thrown your way, being easily influenced by those below you as well as by phenomena above and around you? Or would you like, do you have to be deep, accepting scraps, needing to take full advantage of every opportunity, which come more rarely, understanding the basic necessity and method of survival better than many, to be under greater pressure? Many have no choice, and many more are not even aware of it, of their choice or their apparant position. But this position, be it mental, physical, societal, or any ordered and rankable group, affects, directly influences and changes the way you recieve information and communication through the senses, the particulars you recieve, and also what you do with what is incoming to you. Stars are a good example of this- those that are deeper, in darker territory, will see the stars differently than those on the surface, and though this is not concrete fact, it can be generally seen those deeper will catch dimmer, more obscure visions of estrellas and largely of those that shine most prominently in the sky, and this perhaps lends a more mysterious, possibly more sacred view of them, because they are all the more seemingly unchangeable, requiring undeceptively more effort to reach than for those on the surface, and considerably more effort to understand. Without praising, those at deeper levels will have more hardness in their lives- harder truths, harder fallacies, harder shells to penetrate. On comparison, those on the surface see the stars often, see the stars in constant multitudes, watch and gain understanding of progression through watching others’ regular attempts to become closer to the stars. So if the stars are and have been this important, why aren’t they talked of more? Why isn’t the love of a mother for her child common in speech, or the topic of insticts? It doesn’t really matter, for if you know what you know, and you understand which is right, then what matters is that you hold on to this knowledge and act according to it. The past gives one piece of advice: keep moving forward, which applied in any situation will keep you at the minimum in the running for a good life. Insecurity should not slow you down, whether you are facing someone who is or experiencing it yourself, and the only way to deal with one of a negative view is to keep moving forward, understanding what you are doing to keep the current in your direction. Understand yourself and you understand the world, aren’t those famous words? Understanding isn’t necessary but it is useful, familiarity and recognition likely to serve better in the long run. Treat your life like you treat stars – see what it has to offer and respect it for holding much, much of which you will never know. Know the stars will eventually reach their destination, be it destruction or life, and that your instincts are to be trusted to explain any decisions or obstructions you face. The cleanest water can at the wrong time slow the current, so watch for signs and never hesitate to alter direction or speed if the fear is for the wrong path. The easiest way to arrive at the right place is through work and patience, determination and instinct, direction and confidence. If it is just stepping outside for a cigarette or the long end of a journey, it doesn’t matter the situation, take a moment you have to see the stars. They’ll be there after you die and they will be there long after your problems are resolved, whether they fade or explode, so it bears no harm to notice the stars, and notice they also shine in the eyes of many in the rest of our world, in different lifestyles, different hopes and levels of recognition, technology, or quality, of person or of life. Frame it differently and the stars will be there when you are alive and when you die, so in a funny way it might be worth it to give them a time of value to watch. That idea with forward motion will keep the perspective of life proper, with the stars being more than objects to look at.

5580 between directions

Anti-Criticism of Work – Lauding Your Achievements

So many people don’t know which way they’re working to… every day slogging and working, asking, deciding, so much productivity and so little results. I don’t want to criticize the shovel or the benefits of work, nor whether work is natural, joyful, or necessary… I only want to suggest a streamline for good life choices, ambition, and tangible results. Work is good. Keep on going with effort, but be aware of the direction, the impact, the purpose. There are so many reasons, so many ways, to work! So many reasons, and so many pits and spider’s webs… why do you do the work that you do? To give a living to some one or group, like a family, or a living for your self, do you feel strongly about a goal, an achievement, a process, working to uncover an area based on impulse, curiosity, a passion for these results, or it may be for ambiguous tradition, either working with what was given to you, fully or partially complete, or a confusion with the idea of responsibility. To say it is important to have an idea where and why you are going is not to dismiss the importance of the pure journey – but with no proper instinct the journey is futile. But who will differentiate – what you call a goal and what some other calls stepping stone make no change to what has or will pass and are the same once reduced, your own desire of why it was done is what counts. Forget the criticisms of the unaware, those calling to you as one who will fall flat are those who will fall before you, and regardless of their achievements they will feel pain during that fall. Why not go for what you love… if you can know that and go in that direction honestly, generously, you will never have a problem not based on natural rhythms of life. All worrying, suffering paranoia and what you may know as bad karma, these and none of the other effects of living a criminal or untrue life will affect you. Should criminal be re-defined? It’s obvious to see many known as a criminal living and giving in a fuller and more generous way than the large (and growing) population, and just look at how the term criminal varies in qualifications even across so little as a political boundary, think that you may not want a man killed for acting gay or for using the wrong language, or loving one of a different race. Some criminal acts, or work, fly under the radar of acceptability and appreciation, such as lower class uprising or violent rebuttals to power, or using avilable resources to combat what is destructive for selfish benefit, such as a physical force against the power of mobilization and soft rationale. But don’t go kissing purse thieves, many of this world’s population would do worse than you would assume. To re-define criminal is only meant to increase the awareness and spectrum of what work is; an effort applied sounds simple enough. An Effort Applied to any means or benefactor, regardless of fruits, productivity, intention or method could be labelled as work, and the definition should not be limited because many stray in all of the above yet the effort is applied so an impact is created, no matter size nor scale, demonstrated when a rock is thrown into a small pond, compared to a rock thrown into an ocean – similar size, distance in scale. Don’t give up your efforts when faced with an ocean – many achieve incredible results by traversing the ocean, rather than attempting only to cause ripples. Take the fish! Survive off of it, and achieve your goals while benefitting through the ocean’s scale. Now, do you work properly? Do you work with aims, with results? I don’t respect your private enlightenment, I respect an energetic trade or offering or action. Don’t fear any measure of rejection, every person, existance causes and contributes those energetic courses mentioned… the squirrel fares and gives as well as the rock. Where you go might be different… does the rock have the ability to reach for many, influence lives for the better, change it’s self wilfully as sacrafice for one better… it might, and it could definitely appreciate in these efforts as one sees it’s potential and positives and decides or feels the need to blow them up, release them propulsed by their own forces, their own traits. What have you done, that you loved? People speak of it, it is neglected, a disposable thought, a disposable conversation. Do it! Do what you could ever do. Appreciation in all you do, see, know, think, is a true symbol of an understandable Love.

Mirage

It was bright and fun and stimulating – for most it still is, but targeted, sentient, hindsight destroys it, and replaces this sensory fulfillment with a noxious feeling of having been used and controlled. Now, I wondered what was going on now with the other participants, few of which I had been able to get to know well.

I mean it was always bright there, and was always on, and the luminosity with which it appeared and the ardor with which it persevered would catch and sustain anyone’s attention. What I mean is other places are bright and always open but do not dwell within your cerebral centerfold like this place. Those places do not dwell there because they do not provide a holistic solution to that which is universarily coveted. We may not all know what we need as humans, but it knows and adeptly provides it, but in a form that is flaccid, short-term, inconsequential, and ultimately destructive.

The others acted differently there. They behaved there like one would expect them to behave a more natural setting. There was intimacy, communion, and vast emotional expression. Strangers conversed and temporary unions were forged, but nothing birthed here would endure.

 

Because you know it is always on you begin to develop a sensory obligation to the place. Balance via the segmented life is soon lost. Here pleasure and sensation are derived quickly and without fail, and soon outweigh the value of basic, relatively pallid, yet life-sustaining endeavor. Soon being alone becomes challenging, soon so too does focus.  Moments of time removed from this place are spent preparing for the highly anticipated return, and in substance the two of you, the setting and the person, form one, and you emulate it, so in time it can mimic you. Irrelevancy has been equalized across mediums.

Sitting quietly becomes a near impossibility, and no tactic assuages the angst you harbor.

 

Moral obligations…what the fuck are those?

 

Civic duties cease to weigh, even lightly, upon the consciousness. Everything else is swathed in a patina of futility.

For them it was not an option to differentiate between the two realms, which is unfortunate because illusions tend to lose their power when they are identified as such, which is increasingly unfortunate because most things take this form.

Evading Mortality

The words, memories, work, knowledge, inconvenient discovery filled steps: are they all deemed futile upon death? From a materialistic outsiders perspective I can answer in the affirmative. All of this depends on the person of course. Here I am speaking of a situation that was close to my heart. A relational entity who was tortured internally and imprisoned externally. The sort of death that was both abrupt yet ominous.

Everything about death is confusing. To die seems like such a fucking waste of time and energy. We go through this existence and pain and moments of joy. And we labor and brood, and read; we educate ourselves learn how to love and make love and cry and mend other people’s ravaged emotions; and we dedicate ourselves to pursuits, labor to get somewhere else, and strive toward our ideals. Then come the long sleep of death, and the long comatose of those trying to interpret it. They cease to exist and all that they have done will never come close to being remembered by history, or even relatives. The complexity that is us rapidly dwindles away in to nothing, leaving behind tainted memories and contrived representations.

We die wrong because we conceive of death wrong. We conceive of death wrong because it is important that a significant fraction of people lead unintentional lives.

We have built a society that would suit the immortal.  Nothing about this topic makes sense to me, or to anyone. I think my life will be better lived if I maintain a consistent sense of mortality. Why am I hoarding all of this shit if in an hour I haphazardly cross the street and get crushed by a vehicle? Why pour over this dry, relatively useless, literature if an aneurism deems the working aspects of my brain useless in a month? Why labor at an enduringly frustrating irredeeming job if any number of circumstances collude to take me out, in say, a year. Thinking about mortality alters everything. Thinking about the looming for-certain-probability of death alters perspective without hesitation.

I think we have been sold a nebulous notion of immortality that enables us to engage in the garbage that other people don’t want to. We are provided a false sense of time, to waste time doing shit that will mean nothing when the body we used erodes in to  the ecology of permanence.

Nass Valley Story

September, 2014

North BC, Canada, this is an observation on how the land looks:

Here’s what I saw when I walked and bore the weight of water: a lone absorbing, a cyclic life, playful love, chasing, finding, dying, change. The steep cliffs ended below to a gradual river, along the side of a flood plain – the water shaped the rough bottoms flat, and left the sides, walled, untouched and jagged, grey and green with the growth, the growth different than below, growing to fall, reaching down to the plants that reached up, growing off limbs, along planes, and covering the flat bases of relief. Down was simple, observable prolific life among fast paces and a tough stalked acceptance of the fragile seeders and feeders, drinkers, all ready to move and become re-purposed in a new environment, at the will of further below, at the will of the same, any shifts in land and material, at the will of above. The water lapped against rock and tree, limbs touching other limbs, growing and gathering vertically to touch the cliff, the rocks always a part, grey on brown with red, accepting the limbs, feeding them, until the cliff crested; there the vertical angled sharply and stood to observe the expanse of life and territory’s distance, the materials would seem identical under the film, the jacket of green moss, of fallen branches, of shapes, of their base purpose on the ground. The trees stretched above sight and staggered themselves, proportionally rising as they furthered, spaced to move, access used and solved and navigated and opportuned by animals, large, weighty and brown, black, white, blue, and the small who showed up, who ran, who stayed, who remained unknown, who fed and the relationship around them all could not go unseen. Death was around the whole land. The broken branches, from which mushrooms grew. The feathers from the raven which the wolves ate. The land, unused by literate standards, alive and dripping, solid, solid below, rocks and boulders nestled heavily, shoved, holding down, packing tightly the rocks below, the stones fallen and debris within their holes, dark fear and stagnant parts of dust and light slowly moving, caught by currents and turned, sticking, finally resting. What is it that made the holes and the piles? Where does the ascent stop? The fog was thick above, it covered the tops of close trees and the bases of leigh trees above on the slope, and it wasn’t ventured into… The top could only be imagined, now. Whether bright, or thick and opaque like gravy, the air might choke with it’s thinning, the hill might burn with it’s vertical walk on the legs, the climb could run fast and satisfying with leaping or wither to a calm pleasure, it was all noticed in the seconds of being on green ground and standing above the river.

-Riley