Sunday, March 18, 2012


what does one require to pay attention when attention must be paid? What do we do when its been scheduled into the proverbial timetable, datebook, agenda?

why is it that attention cannot keep to the clock? Why does it follow its own perverse rules, guidelines, appointments?

where has focus gone if it's not here?...perhaps it's staying at your place, napping, abandoned ship?...idk

when will it return, I cannot continue my work without it, what time exactly, precision was never its strong suit but I need to know the date, time and place.

who am I when I'm not me? Who is this person without attention, and isn't it dangerous, scary, irresponsible to be unfocused, to live that way? Who are you?

how will I ever get it back, even though I secretly hope I don't, I can't, I won't ...


Monday, March 12, 2012

A watched pot never boils

Or does it?
My blood boils, sometimes, at least I feel that it could, might...will

I'll have to wait and see I guess.

Why is it that the moment we utter the words "_______" those words which reveal everything we had been preserving, concealing, keeping to and for ourselves in fear that if we open our mouths it might get away.....does get crushed, destroyed and ruined when the sounds form words, and the words have meaning.

A secret, once revealed is no longer mysterious. Once you lose mystery, what's left?
Reality of course,
But reality, I'm afraid, is not always thrilling nor even decent, heck, at times it's down right deplorable.

So should we keep it all inside, so it can stay alive, or do we have to breathe it out to test its survival skills?
What to make of this disjuncture, between inhalation, and exhalation, fact and fiction
Reality and imagination
Here and there...

Where is 'here'?
If so then ...
I'm currently where?

Where will we meet?
The choice it seems was never mine, never thine, always...ours

If we share it, does it mean it's left to 'fate'?
Because I can't control you, nor you me...
Is fate like a gatekeeper of dreams, a grouchy naysayer or a gentle promoter? An open-minded optimist or a pase pessimist?

I think fate is a tortured soul, both independent and needy. A paradox of sorts, a puzzling puzzle...A question mark ?

And still even when fate is driving, I am lost, I feel I should ask for directions. Life, this journey, is utterly bewildering and wonderful and terrible and lovely... and every day I change my mind.
I guess I just don't get it, nor do I want to, yet.

Every pot has its lid, so when it boils, I'll know... I'll hear rattling and shaking of the lid, unless of course it's the wrong size, which means we'll have to start the recipe from scratch, again.

Cooking up a recipe for a sweet ain't easy.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

what if I play..

Your trivial game,
And win...?

Which is precisely what will happen if choose to participate.

I wonder what's worse:

a) playing a silly game and winning..plausibly a prize not worth having, or at best a minimally coveted one


b) not participating in this pathetic-olympiad and losing based on forfeit, lack of attendance in other words

Is it better to win in idiocy or lose in abandonment?

If you win, are you really a champion, and if you are, then a champion of what?

Your trophy would read: best < twit >... hmm doesn't sound appealing.

In my estimation it's a lose, lose situation.
But what if those are your only two options?

Is there a lesser of the two 'evils' so to speak?

Is life just that, a journey through bad and worse,
Finding the least prickly path will get you to... yet another obstacle.
Is it a maze of thorns, the proverbial rate race, a dunce cap-a-thon?!
What is it?? Does anyone know?!

I certainly don't ...
But what I do know is that I'm averse to these games.
Just be careful not to make me angry, because when I am, I lack foresight, and become competitive.
When that happens, and don't say I didn't warn you, I will win.
And then sadly, the joke will still be on me,
Because I will have won ...rubbish.

I'm minimalistic, I'd rather be empty than full of ballocks.



The voice inside

Call if what you like, 
A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet…
And an eminent feeling doesn’t need to be labeled to have meaning.

The Buddha says to observe life as it is, not as you want it to be
And although I hate when people say, ‘it is what it is….’
It's true, and I knew it all along.
But like any honest dreamer, I ignored it, because frankly, it’s crap!

If I cannot imagine it to be better than it is, 
Then isn’t trying at something you see as futile somewhat..
What if you know the results will always be mediocre?
Or perhaps that’s just a facet of my perfectionist-personality…
Maybe mediocre is it.
Either way it’s not very promising.

Perhaps I’m being pessimistic, but I don’t look at life through a half empty or half full glass, I drink directly from the bottle. Now what? 

The Lorax says, “You can’t reap what you don’t sow” and he, though fictional, is right.

I will continue to attempt to sow reality, even though it’s slow and often boring,
 And I hope that one day I can reap…not only in my dreams.
Even if I never reap, the sowing process will have made me wiser…

And as we all know,

Disappointment is the nurse of wisdom…

Sunday, March 4, 2012

now you're just somebody that I used to know

Everyday I discover something new.
It may have always been there mind you, I just hadn't noticed.
Aloof and altruistic... I often don't see what I should. 

I put it on my pedestal and admire it from a safe distance.

It's not perfect by any means, but it's new, real and it's mine, for now anyway.
Like a curator, I frame it, I label it, I explain to others what I think it means.....

I think though, that sometimes, without intending them to be thoughts.... might just be... misleading, misguided, misunderstood, mishandled, and maybe even missed the mark.

No one likes to be mislabeled, even if they don't know they have been.

This new possession, with its dynamic dimensions and vast depths cannot be curated,
Because every time I look it changes.
And I no longer know what I knew, so I can't keep doing what I do.

For every season there might be a reason,
But for every new meaningful encounter might there also be a raison d'ĂȘtre?

Or is it all just meaningless?

When I drive away I always look in the rearview and I see you as somebody that I used to know
Because I know at our next encounter I'll find something new and I just hope that I like it 

I don't want to drive away too become smaller in the distance you know
and no one likes to be small