Imagination, literacy, extinct?

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What, you may ask, do these three words have to do with the deterioration of the human race as they continue to be predominantly disinterested in the art of literature, in art itself, (too busy with the ipod I suppose) or the virtual networking world. Did you notice today that the sky was actually blue and not that rotty gray which is one of the reasons I am leaving New England? I was never cut out for the Puritan bit anyhow. Suburbs, gated communities, obsessive preoccupation with weight, cool cars, movie stars, trying to please others by keeping that one hair that grows out of your chin plucked lest they see! The horror! Television, video games, convenience, tits and ass, saying all the right things at all the right times, and, oh!, must I go on? We are turning into zombies: the coma lulls us into the vice of capitalism, and quite frankly, kills the individual that exists in all of us, but for fear of loneliness, judgment, and what our morning talk shows and celebrity mags have told us, we sink into the same skin of the majority, the judge, the jurors, the women scurrying to their gas-guzzling and grossly over-sized vehicles screaming into their cell phones. The men are no better. Take a look. Take a good look at what you are. Certainly not a robot right? It's getting there though.
People are so over-stimulated these days, with, unfortunately, non-prolific stimuli. The schools, the video-games, television, virtual computer reality, the cars, the marriage, manicured lawns, etc...oh, and another favorite of mine-the IPOD. People, in general, do not observe enough, whether it be human behavior or what color the sky happens to be on a particular day. Most seem locked inside cubicles, withdrawn, uptight, and having to find the most trivial things a travesty....I lost my gold pen. I also understand that people, many of us, fight to survive in a grotesquely overpriced capitalist society: people must work to live. The trick is finding the loop holes that allow the writer to keep a sense of dignity. A writer needs time to THINK and WRITE. Thinking and writing, observing life-have these become extinct? It is rather sad that people do not know how to speak English anymore and do not know where to place "the" in a sentence. No bull, I've seen it. There are many talented writers and artists that will never become recognized because he or she did not conform to the populace. I refuse. My creativity and my ideas are my life. Reading is a huge part of my life. How many people sit around and talk about what they have read anymore? Where is the value in mainstream idiotic trash? Heck, I can write a book to please others....but I would probably die of boredom before completing it. There definitely are many writers and artists out there with tremendous genius and gifts; the problem is we do not hear of them as much as we should.  It is almost like we are slipping into a zombie coma! It is hard to get published when you have no money, have no "in," and live among stashes of brilliant papers, all rejected, while mediocrity and trite novels flood the mainstream bookstores like rubbish. Sylvia Plath makes me think of this "catering" to the mainstream. It is called death of your creativity and soul.Everyone has a genius inside them; they are just too damned scared and intimidated to speak their own language due to fear of criticism and rejection. Syliva Plath, when she used her "true" voice, was a wonderful writer, The only time I can tolerate her prose and poetry is when I pick up "Ariel" or "Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams," and her journals. Some of her journal entries should have been published as prose. She had a powerful, unique voice underneath the need to write what was, most boringly, accepted and held in high esteem by the Publishers, critics, pedestrians, etc. It is a shame, but I cannot appreciate most of her prose because the voice she used in most of her works was not her own. I only use her as an example because it is so typical of what kills the artist inside -out. You can't let it. It takes balls and it is very personal.Oh yes. I can add a ton more degeneracies to the list of tom-rottery that is happening..RIGHT NOW!  Oh, and I am never finished with this topic, so stay tuned and as Lux Interior warned us: Don't eat stuff off the sidewalk."(for some, look him up, front-man for The Cramps, a swell man that passed away way before his time. Tragedy.)   I am going to read a bizarre story written by Flannery O'Conner, study gypsy culture, and hopefully write some more. -OSun

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Godd Morning!

"You can have lunch with your friends, catch the plague, and then have dinner with your ancestors in paradise because you are totally dead".-Middle Ages

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YOU KNOW!

I REALLY WANT TO GO TO A GOOD KICK ASS SHOW AND ROCK MY ASS OFF TONIGHT LIKE THE GOOD OLE' DAYS!!!! WTF!!!! CAN ANYONE WIRE ME TRAIN FARE FOR THE EVENING?!!! PLEASE!! IMA DYIN'!!!!!

I NEED DANCIN' VIOLENTLY!!! WHAT IS THIS LIFE???!!! IT IS FUCK THAT IS WHAT. MONEY? ANYONE? SHIT!

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Forgiveness

“When I was a kid I used to pray every night for a new bicycle. Then I realised that the Lord doesn't work that way so I stole one and asked Him to forgive me.”

 Emo Philips quotes

OH, HAHAHAHA! I found that funny.

But, on a more serious note....

“Sincere forgiveness isn't colored with expectations that the other person apologize or change. Don't worry whether or not they finally understand you. Love them and release them. Life feeds back truth to people in its own way and time.”

 Sara Paddison quotes

I would like to inundate my readers (blessed art thou) with a few, few if possible, quotes on forgiveness, Christ have mercy on me. I have yet to forgive myself of certain mishaps, or, rather situations invented by myself that led to chaos and hurt and just plain idiocy. That time will come. I find it easier to forgive those I choose to forgive. Although being human is not an excuse for doing human things(HAHAHAHA!), I must exorcise myself of any hard feelings towards those only trying to do what he or she knows to be right.

Here are some more quotes relevant to my disquisition on FORGIVENESS.

“The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naive forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.” Thomas S. Szasz quotes

Sorry to bore you, here is some more!!!!!
Very boringly, but necessary I am afraid. It is rather personal. Stop laughing at me. This is serious.
“You will know that forgiveness has begun when you recall those who hurt you and feel the power to wish them well.”

 Lewis B. Smedes quotes

 I know my part in all situations played over and over in my mind. I seek forgiveness as well. But, aside from selfishness, the purpose of this post is to forgive others more than to be forgiven.

I.
WILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more. II.
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.
III.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ;
But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore ;
And having done that, Thou hast done ;
I fear no more.
-John Donne

And last, but not least:
"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."


-William Blake

I have been doing some thinking on forgiveness. I am not in the habit of playing the victim or crying out about how unjustified certain so and so's are concerning the debasement of my feelings. To only think of my feelings is quite selfish, would you disagree? Human relationships are so complicated: this is an understatement. In fact, most of my relationships have been exaggeratedly over-complicated and I am ready for some new wind to take over that will whisk away the layers of muddle and unearth the gift of simplicity. I no longer wish to partake in the ritual of human situational chaos. Chaos has served its purpose in my life and to be honest, I am quite sick of it (a.k.a. very boringly). 2009 has been a chaotic and rather unfortunate year. I do not regret it. I have learned from it. I have lost many people, lost myself, lost my binding to my own morality, lost control, lost the duh the buh the duh. I lost three months of my life due to psychological treatment. I cannot say all of this was my fault.  I can also say the blame game is idiotic. I am, and have been friends with many high-risk people; such is my choice. Due to my passage through life through the tunnel of trouble I have bonded with many wonderful people also in trouble, hurting, broken, addicted.

Lately I have been hurt by those I thought were my friends. I may have hurt them as well. God knows, I am no innocent. I am human. So are they. Some of us do the best we can and loss is inevitable in terms of choosing and making the best decisions, if not for ourselves, then for our children or any selfless act of keeping those that need to be protected from harm. I've been given the gift of forgiveness by someone very meaningful in my life-someone that has seen the worst of me and still loves me with a pure and durable affection. I am lucky. Some people do not get to receive this gift. I would also like to forgive. There are many out there that never set eyes on this blog-do not even know it exists-yet I shared my soul with them not so long ago. They are gone from my life and it weighs heavy on me indeed, but I cannot hold on to grudge or bitterness or sadness: if I held on to these unpleasantries I would be performing an act of slow- suicide. To tell you the truth I have had enough of the self-sabotage; I have had enough of sabotage itself (a.k.a. very boringly). I have certain individuals in mind as I write this. Certain individuals that were and still are very dear to me no matter what the situation or circumstance. I have looked underneath the hurt and anger and shame and attempted to see the why of it from their standing. I just want you all to know that I forgive you. I may have acted selfish in many ways and for that I ask your forgiveness. I still have yet a lot to learn about being human and doing what is "right," I was not born on the right side of the tracks so to speak and i may have a more difficult time than most at acting on the right decision. Intellectually, I know what is right, hell, I know exactly what to do. Emotionally, now that is another story. Human emotions are so tangled and tied up in knots: it is often hard to see through them in order to act selflessly or rightly. I just want anyone out there that knows me, or has known me, to know that I forgive you as I hope you forgive me one day. I say "hope" not "you must." Many of the circumstances by which I have lost a dear friend have been, yes, unfair, and, yes, very heart-breaking. Everyone has their scars and the choice to pick at them or let them heal. I prefer to let them heal and move on. I forgive you. Sincerely. I am sorry if I have acted in any way selfish or cruel. I am often cruel when I am hurt. I must find another "coping" mechanism. Very boringly, my brain needs a lot of rewiring. I forgive you. Thank you for forgiving me. You know who you are. To those that will never get to read this, I miss you and forgive you. The memories hurt the most. The closeness. The further. The breech of trust. The angry words. Actions that sullied the landscape of our momentary bliss of connection and break from loneliness. Whatever the reasons, I forgive you. I will always have your memory deep in my heart, embedded, tattooed. I never forget. Please forgive me. If you cannot, I still only wish you well.  OSun is out-

Cranes - Beautiful Friend

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Far From Me (4x5)

Marianne Faithfull - Crazy Love

Far From Me

For you dear, I was born
For you I was raised up
For you I've lived and for you I will die
For you I am dying now
You were my mad little lover
In a world where everybody fucks everybody else over
You who are so far from me
Far from me
So far from me
Way across some cold neurotic sea
Far from me

I would talk to you of all matter of things
With a smile you would reply
Then the sun would leave your pretty face
And you'd retreat from the front of your eyes
I keep hearing that you're doing best
I hope your heart beats happy in your infant breast
You are so far from me
Far from me
Far from me

There is no knowledge but I know it
There's nothing to learn from that vacant voice
That sails to me across the line
From the ridiculous to the sublime
It's good to hear you're doing so well
But really can't you find somebody else that you can ring and tell
Did you ever
Care for me?
Were you ever
There for me?
So far from me

You told me you'd stick by me
Through the thick and through the thin
Those were your very words
My fair-weather friend
You were my brave-hearted lover
At the first taste of trouble went running back to mother
So far from me
Far from me
Suspended in your bleak and fishless sea
Far from me
Far from me

Crazy love

Hated by all and everywhere he goes
Blazing contempt for human life and lies
Murder as art and what he knows he knows
from life and fear in other people's eyes

Crazy love is all around me
Love is crazy love is kind
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

She walks the boulevard without a care
Knowing too much but having come so far
Pretending life is just a game you play for nothing
Loving no-one and no-where

Crazy love is all around me
Love goes crazy given time
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

She looks as if expecting a surprise
Maybe an encounter that will change her life
Not knowing hot from cold or good for bad
If life is just a joke or if it makes her sad

Crazy love is all around me
Love is crazy love is kind
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

Crazy love is all around me
Love goes crazy given time
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

O' Blame Can You see?

No more soul sucking motherfuckers for me! Happy New Year! And....let the bastards rot while I flourish!

“There is always this element of concealed accusation in neurosis, the patient feeling as though he were deprived of his right-that is, of the center of attention - and wanting to fix the responsibility and blame upon someone.” Alfred Adler quotes

They are all dead, but he...

“Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate”

 Germaine Greer quotes

They are all dead. You tried to prop their caskets open with your love. It did not work. The casket was much stronger. Their will to detach from you much fixed. Determined for one reason or another, some you will never understand, to erase you. Who cares if it destroys you? Then again, you are no victim. You choose who you love, or does it just happen? An irrational branch of the human condition. But why do they all have to die? Why are they ripped from you so suddenly, so cruelly? Is there really a predetermined hex on your relations? Can it be? It seems that way. Because they all die. They rip the binding of the book that contained the love, the loyalty, the bond, the intensity and for you they say "I cannot" " I cannot." The binding so unjustifiably mutilated that it resists and rejects the love so strong in you that attempts to put it back together. How is it they are dead to you but alive to others? It must be your fault. But what have you done? You've done your best to be there for them in times of hardship, yet when it is your hardship they suddenly become ghosts. Why? There is never an answer, but a fact becomes more clear to you as time and loss continue to steal your happiness, your connections, your sense of being a normal human that shares bonds with others, that can rely on those that say they care to really care: You will always be alone. Why do some people, good people, remain alone? Alone like being spit upon after receiving a compliment. Alone like the self-destruct button tempting the press of your forlorn finger. Who will be there to stop that finger? Not the one that said "I care," not the one that said "I love you," not the one that purposely turned a deaf ear to your plea for reassurance, for comfort, for desperate need of the only bond that can save you: all the meaningless words spoken to you, indicative promises of devotion, had disappeared into the air as most lies - become vapid: you are a fool for believing those words before they made themselves dead to you. You have a part. The part is allowing the cycle to recycle. Is it your fault? "Such are promises." And you want to believe. And so you do. And so you are lost among the dead, thinking, remembering, but the dead do neither. The dead do not care. The dead leave the living to suffer their absence. And the cliche is "all you have is you." And the cliche is "all you have is you." If all you have is you then why do you see people bonding, connecting, making and keeping plans amongst one another where for you there is "Such are promises" ? It is confusing and terrifying, these lies, these false hopes, and not necessarily lies so much as irresponsible whims.  Losing hope is murder. Losing hope shatters the life-force. Constant betrayal and loss. A merry-go-round of the same disappointments. Corruption of trust. Lack of faith in humanity. What can you do? The more it changes the more it stays the same-title of a song you love and loathe. They do not even say goodbye.You will never understand why they do not want you-why they leave. You gave too much of yourself. No reciprocity. Such is your life, the hard way. Loss. Like the dead. Photographs of the dead. Memories of the dead. Resentment of the dead. Cruelty. Tell your baggage to stop overflowing lest it kill the next...
But he. He waits for you. Sometimes patiently, sometimes not. He sees you, values you, respects you, LOVES you. Never tries to intentionally hurt you. No cruel words fire at you through his perfect mouth. You hurt him yes, but true love endures, waits, suffers, does not disappear into the air. But he, despite the sorrows, despite your pushing away,  imperfections, hospitalizations, breakdowns, angry words, manias, recklessness, every defect under the goddamn sun: he remains. You trust him with your life. He wants to put back together what was broken. Seal together the bond that was severed. He is very much alive. He is immortal to you. He has never made you feel less than. He is willing to hold on, hold on, hold on. He has shown you what true love is. He is your connection to life. He will never lock the casket on you. You cry because you know that he is good. May be he is the only good you know. Pure and innocent of all that is false. And when he touches you with his tender hand, you believe, all hope is not lost. He will never leave you. He will always stay. The care and love he has for you is indestructible. It took a summer apart to see. A summer that ended in tragedy inspired in you the desire to hear his gentle voice, his healing presence, as you cried in devastation, he listened and yearned for you, forgave you. Your love for him grew deeper after the nightmare and the rotten experiences with unwholesome creatures. You are not entirely alone. Gratitude.
“Unity to be real must stand the severest strain without breaking” Mahatma Gandhi quotes