Diary

ZEN

A is for adamant that I will not

Become another statistic of the hum drum, just a

Crazy statistic that bears no relativity, I remain

Defiant of all hypocrisy, I

Expel the demons from my mind, instead evergreen

Forever remaining beautiful and one of a spirit kindred

Getting wise from the teachings of Karma

Having given what is required

I don’t have to sacrifice for I know the realms of

Justice

Kinaesthetically feeling

Love

Magnetising it to come to me

Notwithstanding some love to come

Openly

Pleasantly

Quintessentially all that I want it to mean

Reinventing and Receiving therein

Something no less than I am deserving

Tirelessly I have been serving whilst

Under the pressure of a foregone conclusion

Vilified in quieter times when I have withdrawn my

Willingness to become part of a process

Xenophobic nonsense and all the mental programming

Year after year, on and on and on and on when all I seek is

Zen

 

 

 

 

We Are Love

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We are love, yes we are, we prove it year in year out, on new year’s eve especially so… Hence let us now set the continuum, the love momentum from whence it came, being human is to be in love… Love yourself, love your family, love your friends and enemies and love their friends and enemies too… It’s easy to do…avoid falling in and out of love, instead remain with love, in love and let love in….let’s set a new year precedent..
We are love, love we are, are we more lovin’… Yes we are….

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The Space between a Rock and a Hard Place

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When you’re waiting on some platform after just having metaphorically turned a corner in your parallel universe and the sun is shining on the greatest habit you have…. leaving a place where you felt safe and sound, where you experienced wishful thinking and dreaming, scrabbled eroticism and mildly confusing moments of madness … where seconds stood still as you clocked off in an instant…

….and in the time it took to wipe away an oxytocin laden tear, it was all over….

That’s the space between a rock and a hard place…

….. and so you hang loose and lucid for a pregnant pause, just because you can, and because it’s good for the soul, gives that spark to remember your abundance mentality and to further think about preserving and enhancing this as your train pulls in to the station on cue to take you somewhere new…

…and as you board the carriage of fulfilling adventures to come, Commit your golden rule to memory and then commit it to your life…

Never look back, stay in the space of now, remain happy and reinvented between those rocks and hard places….focus on what you have and what you can do to cultivate your positivity and lift the eyes upwards to look forward to where you are going..

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The pursuit of happiness is one of those greatest of investments…

Happy Rubbish Day

Wow, human beings need to re-think how to move forward in a less throwaway, consumption hungry greedy rubbish-faced race.

Can it be possible that everyone is still ignorant to their production of rubbish? Does anyone even care about landfilling this earth with waste, litter, rubbish, excrement, feces, spew, defecation, rot, shit, garbage and bins bins bins…..

Hands up, how many of you less than good intentioned people have been atop a landfill site? Uh huh, just as I thought, a no show….

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Well happy holidays… Turn a blind eye for sure, that’s damn humane of you..

…. Or….

give yourself a window of opportunity, induce your soul to a good deed and take an educational daytrip to a landfill site… Ground your feet on the spot, close your eyes and tune in, learn something profound about your race….. your race to lick, bite, chomp, chew and consume your way to your grave….

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself the question of where your rubbish rests in peace…?

For those of you who are lucky enough to make it to the countryside and see hillsides where sheep and cattle graze, take a moment to visualise under hoof the layers of grass-seed, soil and lime and then….

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As deep levels of covetous conditioning creates toxic layers of crazed consumption amongst billions of misinformed Christmas customers one sighs in realisation that another ‘happy rubbish day’ is upon us. Thus it would be both prudent and wise to remember per se what exactly is it that one is celebrating? … Indeed a less than 24 hour celebration that shall surely turn to unhappy dust faster than it will take a new moon to light up those obliterating first days of January…. heavy hearts, empty pockets, fat bellies, weary saddle-bagged eyes … Fond thoughts of the treadmill loom on the horizon…

Jesus dying for our sins done little more than create monster sinners of us all and by the very virtue of our tinsel trimmed sinning we should have heaped upon our souls such remorse that is equal to our behaviour. When it comes to our carbon footprint we are illuminated as pathetic disgraceful heathens – whichever end of the social spectrum we rest our haunches – we are all as bad as eachother as we fuck the planet over once again this Christmas …

Ah, and “blessed may your children be, for where’s the truth, you’re just a slave, forever running out of time….”

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To wish a happy yuletide to mother nature could be far reaching but here in 2014 it is impossible to do so as it would be a complete insult…

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Little Losses Major Advances

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Tenaciously threading a silken web through the winter subways and streets of New York City can both break and fix in a split second any long-term lingering need for self recognition, purpose or mental fortitude. There is simply no time or space for fear or angst whilst flowing serendipitously through this incredulously deep tiered traffic. Atop of the mental make or break scenario is the possibly beneficial instinct to know, manifest and secure certain levels of psycho physical strength and self-trust in this concrete jungle; for instance, in challenging emergency would one be able to temporarily paralyse an oncoming ferral attack per se?…or even begin to understand it…. would one know how not to panic when panic sets in – after all, each independent entity that we are must come to terms with the fact that we are never too far from the mercy of immediate interdependent critical mass human conscienceness. One cannot possibly know how reactive (positively or negatively) any one single human being is going to be…. where will that spilt second lead to? Will it induce adversarial possessive selfish defensive mistrust or could it, if handled with a balanced non judgmental understanding guide all to a new synergistic system whereby internal self security opens new possibilities for everyone. There comes a time when you have to ask yourself ‘is the army of me prepared?’

There is nothing more disconcerting than disorientation, nothing more awakening than fight or flight, nothing more futile than loss of will.

So from all loss has to come major advances….

Getting lost in NYC can be all about becoming found.

From the Brooklyn Bridge to the Ox Cart

When you get kicked whilst you are down it sometimes makes you not want to get up again, you feel an intrinsic level of worthlessness when you’re in the dark recesses of kerbside gutter thinking and a quiet choking supercedes any teeny tiny light of hope at the end of the poxy tunnel you’re supposed to be holding onto…. if however, you’re one of those lucky bastards who has an innate will that overcomes all hardships and kickings, you’ll get up again..
Lucky for me my will seems to be unstoppable.. I’m thousands of miles from home (if you can call a defunct postcode a home, it’s the only remaining piece of identity I can actually offer as to my current definition of ‘home’) and I’m reeling from a couple of mental kickings from folk that are oblivious to having a bit of consideration to another’s sensitivity and mental state of well being, on top of which I am without that special someone to pick me up, brush me down and hug and tell me that everything is going to be alright… So it was hardly surprising that I therefore found myself not wanting to get out of bed (yes I was lucky enough to have a temporary bed, with a roof over my head so it’s not all bad).. Not like the troubled souls who frequently ride the metro from one end to the other just so they can keep warm and sleep…

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Herein, on a cold NYC morning in South Midwood, Brooklyn my general state of mind was glum blue with a pinch of my stalwart tendency to ideate on the passing to the other side and thus I had to have a serious chat with myself…(due to unforeseen circumstances I can no longer allow myself the pleasure of ideation for too long seeing as one of my siblings beat me to the banister and so as not to be double selfish towards my parents and remaining sibling I must re-wire quickly)… So, I sat up and asked myself why had I flown thousands of miles to such an amazing city to not make something of it…kicking or no kicking…

I like bridges.. They inspire me to jump.. Or leap.. Not necessarily literally (although I sense it a euphoric way to go) but the inspiration to ‘just do it’ was just what I needed to get me out from under my miserable covers.
So I got up, showered (another luxury) and dressed as warm as possible.. I put my headphones on, plugged into Nirvana and took my arse to the local downtown metro and made my way to the Brooklyn Bridge…

I alighted at Clark Street and decided to go eat, I hadn’t felt like eating earlier but for some reason my appetite had kicked in (always a good sign of positive re-wiring) and so I found my self in a little cafe on the corner of Pineapple Street…
Hot chocolate and a BLT bagel for under $5… An absolute cheering bargain..

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With a renewed sense of self I put a spring in my step and made way to the stairs that would lead me onto the bridge..
Immediately upon stepping out onto the bridge I felt recovered from the ‘kicking whilst down feeling’ and again re-learned and understood how important ‘will’ is on the road to survival… Had I stayed under the sheets in darkness I would have missed the recuperation process of this milestone crossing…

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… And the love locks

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Made me think about whose love I’d like to padlock (if indeed that’s a healthy hearty thing to do),…

With spirit lifted I did then decide to text a newfound friend and enquire as to their Friday night plans and if I could tag along…

Through the course of the day and the power of the will my rather bleak start transformed into one of exhilaration and fun… I met said new friend and followed him to ‘The Ox Cart’, described by said new friend as ‘the nearest thing to a pub as you can get round here’… Turned out to be quaint and served better food than any UK pub I’d been to in recent times…

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I liked the quirky menu and the cross continental eclectic mix of employee too… I laughed a lot and, for the record, have laughed a lot since… All’s well that ‘will’ allows…

Next bridging venture shall be the manhattan to get a shot of the brooklyn from the other side…