Brinesanity – an abide jar, filled with all the fuqs given.


Mai Tie

Here is something to ponder.

What the fuck are you doing here? I mean, I am pretty sure of what I am doing. I can only say pretty sure, because nothing is absolute. It is constantly in a state of flex and change, and fucking hell – do you really think I am not aware of the stupidity? Including my own.

Shit in my life is real, and somehow, other’s seem to be at a point in their lives that theirs is required to be avoided, because it stinks so bad the only way to deal with it is to ignore it, like some kind of misery that is to be forgotten as a cause from their own actions and consequences.

Take a moment and sit back, reflect on the reality of it all.

Let it sink in, if it needs to.

Go on, you deserve it.


In deserving, there is more – there is an earned and blessed feeling.

Comfort is neither hot or cold, a smile or a laugh.

It is being in the moment and living it to understand the beauty, even in the tragedy of the falling of life by the wayside of Time. Accompanied by his alter-ego, Age, Time ensures you are aware that closer to it shall you go, but never to you will it come.

It does not need to, it is right there beside you as the most precious thing you hold in your life.

It is only a matter if you make it so.

Else, it will follow you on the miles you choose to own.

Looking around me today, the  sun is shining.
I am alive, and no longer hovering in a state of fear from a cancer.
My wealth is not defined by the numbers in any regard, but by a cerebral sutra that allows me to abide by anything that comes forth.

It sounds like a bunch of bullshit, and some kind of mysterious lame Duck Daced font mantra…
sure fucking thing sunshine, sure fucking thing.

Sure you got it all figured out, and are walking those miles.

I am going outside to do some lawn bowling today, and if anyone has got a problem with it they can fill in an official form, the FU-101 – it’s the blue one, right over there on the box, beside the unicorn having a coffee with Doug Henning and Moses.

“It’s spring time motherfucker, do you have it?” said Samuel.

I imagine he is smiling though, about to roll his bocci ball. It will be easy to spot, because the grass is only now starting to show the signs of the orange that most don’t know.

They see it as green.

green buckets, blue dog, Ellas car horns, Kola, decades pass, abide, fetaman.com, fetaman, iFeta, fetaChops, brinesanity

“There is no salvation in becoming adapted to a world which is crazy.” – Henry Miller



One small step…?

It is a small step?

It was a small undertaking, unimportant.

iGus peers from the shadows of “fiction”.

I abide.

Oh, how the truth does set one free.

Cowards need not apply, liars lay in thine grass.

No issue, I own my miles, in my gulch.

The grass is orange.

Fuck you cancer, we win…again.

μάνα, για πάντα στην καρδιά μου.




The Friend Zone Vortex

It is her day, and each day is a gift.

Asking the right questions, does not always give the right answers.

They come, as they are.

Being what is, and are as is.

With no excuses – no real aftermath of the question coming in a tsunami of emotion. What was of something, and is of the same thing, is the needing to know what of the emotion that came to conquer a friendship and a love that is grand and delightful.

So tonight, you get a ‘small’ gift and on the everyday, we can select that special something we are looking for – perhaps we can spy a sweet book we can read together – it was always so beautiful to read to her. Speaking of things that were spoken, and understood by each of us in a way that just was.

To give a small gift of a word, that shows her I think of the small things, and remember them for her, as she will for me is not some romantic notion, but a sequence of the actions that call for the time to be.

The most important is whoever you are with.

The right thing to do is what whoever is with you needs.

Things just are, it is that simple.

Most people are not truly happy, and this is something that we don’t always think of.

Go back to your self, and then you can find the answers.

Easier to give it, than live it – take some action with yourself.

Thank God, I have something to do now, and this makes me want silence, and this a blessing, and not a fault.

She gave me the strength I needed to get through these things, even though I may think that it was not a lot, but it was something, and what do you know.

Verbalizing ultimatums, and I really know that I had no intention of following up with, and then you ask – what would it be like without her?

What would I do without this “friend scenario” in my life?

Women take charge of now, and that is what they do, and we have to know that they seek a great deal of comfort before they move into action, or they find a necessity of having to do something that is more relevant with her as a woman.

Make a stand, and then prematurely projecting out 6 years with different scenarios, and there is no way we can predict all of this with certainty – and with her having gone through all of these things, and me being a piece of cheese, it takes you out of the now, and this is dangerous.

The main slant is that there is only the now – there is no was, or will be – this is the NOW – live in the now.

Everyone says shit they don’t mean, and you will say things like ‘it don’t matter’ or ‘you don’t matter’ – and despite nursing them to death, they do matter – you have to make a choice that is more about what matters to cross that border – and make the natural progression to have a successful relationship.

There is nothing but ‘there is nothing but empty and meaningless’ in your life, and you can only let anger get you because you are letting it – you CHOOSE to make that anger…no matter what meaning you give to her words, they are your madness issues…not hers, but YOURS

We think we know ourselves, better than anyone else, and we NEVER until we die, see ourselves wholly, and in the state of things – there is only what is on the other side, and after crossing through the second door, do we feel and know that we are but the hand that cut a flower, and never smelt the blessing? Never seen the orange in her smile and felt something so grand that we never really loved at all.

It was always ok to leave her, but you cared enough about her, that you stayed, and made her happy and you have taken on a load and share to make her happy…but you never knew what that was. You never knew what she truly wanted, you only guessed and often, fought to guess against the tides of your emotions.

Sunshine roams in your eyes and cares not for the edge of the lids that keep the same rays from your minds home until you are ready for the day to bring you into today. You are so beautiful, I don’t deserve to even whisper your name.

Pardon? You want me to go get you something to eat? Sure for both of you? No problem, I can imagine you two are having great fun in there. I will just finish cleaning, and will iron your socks when I get back, before we select your nail colour.


Gutterball alley, no two ways about it. Is what it is - what you roll?


Oranges or Burlap Bag of _ _ _t?

You have a choice.  Carry oranges or a bag of stinking shit.  You must then also choose, to give away the oranges or sell them, else otherwise, what are you planning on doing with that shit?

There is no choice with shit – you HAVE to give away some of it for free.  It stinks, there is nothing you can do about it, it really does stink.  The only thing you can try to do is mitigate the stink, or prevent others from smelling it by being secluded.  Usually, neither of these is an option, and most just decide to carry it around, air out their shit, and even contaminate others with it.  Those that try the aforementioned, often find themselves “labelled” in the shitbag carrier category, and as such, well…you know the story.

Orange, on the other hand is the color of life.  It helped me beat cancer, and to this day, I always wear orange.  Somewhere on me, is always orange.  Just the thought of it makes people smile, and creates a physical reaction.  Seeing it, smelling it, just like the sharing that happens by the very essence of having it, makes people smile.  Let them hold some orange, feel the citrus love that comes with it, in the same way you have shared the sight of it, now share the senses of it.  Only one requires the orange be given away, or sold for some other value, a kindness or an interest that is considered important, and bartered for in an abiding and natural way.

Meh, what the fuck do I know, I’m an asshole.

I am just a block of fucking cheese anyway…



What do you do in the arena?

I have taken great lengths to make sure I hold my head up high. Through all of the sick beats, beating the sick, and just being.

How do you cope with the insanity of the mental midgets? When you see this pleeb of a fuck annoying your space, do you crush, or walk away knowing this means nothing to you?

When there is direct harm, do you inflict death upon the lowly mosquito for trying to take your blood? It was instinct, and so, is the capital punishment based on the instinctual kind?

What do you say when the harm is unintentional? There was good always in spirit, but the path that was chosen is lacking the outcome you sought?

Do you cut the ties, and move on?

Do you hold on to be able to make that change, or cut that field to still get to the right destination?

Do you slowly, patiently wait for the chance to come back, and deliver the abide?

Yes, you do.

In each, the answer is yours and with that answer comes your path.

Follow it.

It is the right path.

Just walk long and hard.
But walk.

Some people call it running.
Others call it risk.


Both are four letter words.

Roll it of your tongue.
The way you say it, is the way it is.



Giving the Meow a Bath

oh my does this ever bring back some classic memories.

Salty Katnip



A murmur to an angel.

Cursed to have met an angel, she showed me a way.

I took the one that has made all the difference.


“Anaïs, I don’t know how to tell you what I feel. I live in perpetual expectancy. You come and the time slips away in a dream. It is only when you go that I realize completely your presence. And then it is too late. You numb me. […] This is a little drunken, Anaïs. I am saying to myself “here is the first woman with whom I can be absolutely sincere.” I remember your saying – “you could fool me, I wouldn’t know it.” When I walk along the boulevards and think of that. I can’t fool you – and yet I would like to. I mean that I can never be absolutely loyal – it’s not in me. I love women, or life, too much – which it is, I don’t know. But laugh, Anaïs, I love to hear you laugh. You are the only woman who has a sense of gaiety, a wise tolerance – no more, you seem to urge me to betray you. I love you for that. […]
I don’t know what to expect of you, but it is something in the way of a miracle. I am going to demand everything of you – even the impossible, because you encourage it. You are really strong. I even like your deceit, your treachery. It seems aristocratic to me.”

― Henry Miller, A Literate Passion: Letters of Anais Nin & Henry Miller, 1932-1953



…does not mean dirty, or stupid or mean.

Poverty, and dignity – how does this collide, for those that want to embrace it?

Look at the colour of the sky, around you.
Change what you see, that you no longer wish to see.

Be, who you want to be, because there is nothing else.

Embrace it.