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

By

To relatives.

The entire series, was almost a decade ago. You expect me to sit here, and be passive as my name and effort is slandered – I watch my own parade sunshine, your escapades are for others to deem interest worthy, or note scurvy. I stand by what I write, how I write, and for whom. Anyone, questions always welcome. You stare at the cover and wonder what the words mean, but I can’t hear what you’re saying. Then again, more than likely, I could give a fuq to hear it. *jar rattles*

Enthusiasm is relative. Not a relative. Make the mistake of thinking that you are married to some kind of blood kin, that is supposed to come rushing out of you like unbridled enthusiasm, and deep breath – and you are cooked.

Some like to take things to a point, and then are willing to walk away from them, even when there is residual value in them, they have become so exasperated by the struggle, but the effort, by the cause that may or may not have been treated with the fair and right regal attention it deserved, but then again, that is what has allowed us today to capitalize on the failures of the past.

The lessons they learned, from succeeding to move the bar, or the ones that were failures inspiring a new line of thinking, all the way to the one’s that have allowed us to see man truly flying on his own. In the air, on a prayer.

For the thrill, for the purpose.

To not be away from it. To peer at the thrill of it all, and know that life is worth living only when the seize of insomnia ask for no permission they know will never be granted.

Life is precious, in any regard.
Wake the fuck up and live it.
Today.
Now.

You are in a position that is “close to the edge”?

This is where success, separates from “them” who stand on the edge and don’t jump for the thrill.

Fucking pussies.
I was there.
Once.

Many times actually, but that is a collective once now.

The Man in the Arena, “if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

I will not stop daring.
I will not stop trying.
I will not allow someone to just smirk at the sand.
I will not abide.
I will not try.

(licks pin on brine grenade, filled with belief every morning upon awakening, I carry it on me at all times, and reloads are always near by)

Each particle, each fragment – united, it becomes a greater force. A clearer image, filled with the pixels of purpose and the thorns to be rested on the weary head that must shield their eyes, their orifices, their very souls from the cerebral tsunami before them.

That is ok sunshine, stay in the concrete tent.
That is where your God has asked to stay, serve the rebar.

If you mix your effort with cloak, it will go awry He said, and still you decided to press. Remove the caramel and sugar coated textile from the tin, and dance with the sure grin on the fluoride tainted taste provide by the Machine.

Follow at your own will, and under your prowess.

Blessings, once aboden, become surety.

Bounties on the soul, with actions and flaming fuqtardation to espouse matrimony with mental mavericks or midgets.

Listen, to the call of the loon.

Disturbance or peace, is a reflection which remains, and always shall be – relative.

To health, happiness and prosperity – the last of which, is fully defined by ourselves. The old chicken, has the juice.

What kind of side dish you want served with that corn bread, ma’am.

*abide*

By

Souvlaki wine, magic chop.

Good morning, Gus here. Fetaman has left me alone. So I was reading a string of articles in the Globe and Mail this morning, and it had started with the Rob Carrick article titled “Job seeker on Gen Y’s struggles: “I didn’t think I’d be here at 30’”  A very interesting piece that illustrates a telling tale of a cycle, that is all about context. I am fond of the context smirk often, in fact, Fetaman uses it a lot. I introduced it to him. Yeah, I am anxious to weigh in on a number of matters, and consider “right.”

From there I had proceeded to click on a link of his that spoke of this blogger (*financefox.ca) and how the practiced “No Spend Days”. This new cult of personality has recently popped up more and more since the days of the Cappuccino Hair Bands. Seems so long ago, but those were good days.

Making your own coffee in the office. Being proud you saved that couple of bucks, and taking it to the next level. *context smirk* That was divine, grand. Divine. Hell, you even went out and bought $164.73 of sealable and transportable containers to be able to take in leftovers, and soon enough, you could even be shopping each day for fresh little bits of delight you could proudly boast in the office as the bundle of joy you are.

Mmmmmmmmm…Berry Pomegranite Mio…

So is my desire to sit here and start to “complain” or whine about what needs to be done, and how tough it may be out there to do what you need to do or why you choose to do it?

Not quite – I am more aligned, and of the same opinion ranges as this writer speaks of, in his reply to the initial letter written to Rob Carrick. It is titled “Why this 29-year-old believes Gen Y doesn’t have it that bad.”

No, I think I would rather look at the positive side of it all. Just like you do? Consider how if you really look at the “richness” that you have in your life, surrounding you, and you have adjusted the means and the ends for the “revenue” you seek in your life, then you will be able to live on much less of a “spend” from the financial side. Fuck. The opposing side of this Yang, is that Ying requires a lot more work and effort, they balance each other, and Ying is sparing when it comes to creature comforts. He lives in a way that many feel romantic about, until their month of joy has been eroded to menial tasks that will provide warmth, and food, and joy of a kind found only in the mountains of the mind. Chopping fucking wood in minus 30 degree weather, with a senior citizen is not exactly a fucking task for the faint of heart. But when you have a purpose, to make some wine, the challenge was that my wine was a vine. The grapes were “different”.

Wine is wine. It is from grapes, sweet or sour. It is fermented with time. It inebriates, as does it’s main ingredient. It swirls and aerates the elixirs of the mind, providing the same intoxicating reflections, effects, lapses of memory, depressions, joys, good times and bad times, wealth and poverty. All of it, inebriated by time.

Time makes the vine grow. Time makes the orange show.

Syntax changes today, and the only difference becomes how we consume the whine.

Consider weight of the whine, as something that has to be measured. It must be qualified. So you have to add subjective measurements such as age, and quantity or size, is the whine intelligent with an IQ that is acceptable and has been given a good “score” by the ratings guru’s, pundits and promoters and readers.

The readers can see, that the whine has an h in it. The listeners, will have to imagine that, to have the capacity to draw that conclusion themselves. It ain’t easy drawing conclusions at any age, is it?

Is this any different life at any of these ages? Of course there are, at different stages of life, your conclusions will be driven by what it is that has been delineated by the “age” – time, credentials, net worth, penis size, cup size…I-fucking-Q.  It Is all about your form. The world has changed and physical versus cerebral and cognitive empirical measures and subjective objectivity are always important boundaries to look at when you determine where you are. They are the fence posts on the Parameter acreage you own from birth. Expanding it or contracting it, is an environmental manifestation of the physical reality called you.

As humans, we then automatically create a stigma, a dogma, a viewpoint on other’s from our own experiences, and find entertainment in the universe of the mind as we consider how we like some things, and despise others. Why we are more entitled to something, than that other person who clearly is not as good as we are, so you must beat them back or harm them in some way to proceed. Of course, the second that many of you read that you pounced from the mental soap box to scream of your charity work, and your giving nature and all that you do to be kind, caring and some form of a religion based deity that has wings and can solve your problems.

Well, so can a shitload of Red Bulls and Vodka.

Trust me, it is only a temporary fix.

Just like breakfast of Corn Flakes and Crown Royal.

Just like plugging into a shit J.O.B. – it may sound like some kind of multi-level marketing jingle to have you sign on the dotted line so you can eventually move to Bora Bora after you make the millions saving your friends and families money on basic cable, phones, internet – and you are right. I had heard it from a douchebag, that was a miserable failure trying to build his life back up by telling lies, fuck him. Fuck anyone who is going to try to continue build up their lives using lies and not revealing them, and that is a very important reflection point is for me, and in fact it appears society is very clear. Honesty is the most valuable currency in this day and age, and transparency, as a result of it, whether you like it or not, is here.

I honestly do believe that a job is “Just Over Broke”.

No matter what kind of wealth you have, you are living within your means. You believe, that if the Jones’s are indeed driving that car, and have a debt ratio of X:Y, then yes, you too can be living within your means, if the means, become your own. If you accept “them”, then by natural collusion, you will unite with their means. Their means.

Means judged by others.

Not my fucking gig, thanks.

So does that then make me right, or am I wrong?  Who has a right that is more important – can one right shove all-in on another and always be the Royal Fucking Flush? Are these physical rights or spiritual rights? Does this right consider the right and just associates and peers, fellows and humans that sit beside us, in this commune circle delineated by the chairs we sit on?

Each right is different in it’s own way, until you fly a little higher by whatever means you need to so you can spend a little time with Jonathon. Silly fucking seagull, or prophet of understanding that at this height, they are all just big box store data points that lead to one giant balance sheet in the sky.

Immigrant parents came and worked like dogs. Literally.

Wandering the streets to find jobs, or trying to build them and having them fail, into bankruptcy.

There is one very simple solution to all of this bullshit, fuck.

Stop the victim thinking. Just think internal. The only victim has been my own self victimizing itself and blaming others.

Stop your fucking whining, and make your own wine with no h.

Drink it, enjoy it. It is the elixir of life.

It will change your life.

For the better, it always does.

But remember, my wine is not a vine. My vine, is actually orange grass.

“It will change your life for the better.” Always does.

Your wine, my vine. I found that vine because I looked for the orange in everyday. Somedays I chose to share it.

The world becomes a better place.

Other days I choose to nurture it, make sure you do so in order to help it become a belief grenade.

In the past, those belief grenades have changed. They have been brine grenades, taint grenades, the have been lie grenades.

What I do know, whatever you do,  when you do launch it…people will realize for what it is.

Me? I am just launching a biography. About myself. Gus Xortopoulas.

I will tell you right now, the grass, it’s fucking orange.

*abide*

 

By

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.

*abide*

02-16-2013 

By

The Muppets

Those funny, funny muppets. Just trying to tie their own rooms together, and share some appreciation for the gig and the league games. I mean these points do count right, towards some kind of marriage proposal of something?

A scene from the muppet movie, a walk into a strange theatre wondering, perhaps this is the wrong theatre? I wonder, if I say a few things to person beside me, are they of a sound mind? How exciting…how so very exciting. Hi Icarus, name is Fetaman, how you doing today?

Amazing, what the change of a little thing like syntax, or cowardly actions, strange behaviours from odd folks, that otherwise seem so kind and real, or perhaps such as others that care to put things out in the universe, as real, with no fear – to enjoy the show.

Cause after all, all the world is a stave.

That stave for me, right now, fully aware. is one giant bowling lane.
*context smirk*

It is yours, and you choose it.

Don’t blame me for the misery of the interpretations you make.

Some funny folks have been included below, as a way of sending a smile and wave. Not a fucking marriage proposal.

The secrets that you keep, may have something to do with your own trip, but hey, just worry about your own miles sunshine, no need to worry about mine.

I got those.

Enjoy the smiles, cause nothing says a man can laugh, like laughing at masturbating muppets.

*abide*

*per above link and YouTube reference, the original footage is from the Muppet Movie, and all rights and love go out to the creators and team that put it all together, making lessons and childhood a good experience. James Maury “Jim” Henson (September 24, 1936 – May 16, 1990) 

 

By

Brine Tsunami

Started the day off with some heavy writing, for myself.

Why not share. It reflects me, I do not have to be a programmed hologram.

I am getting a little “frustrated” by the Twitter game, and there will likely be a distinct brine tsunami that is seen in the coming days for sure.

The concept has been explained before in my posts, and I am going to elaborate on it a little more, as what tends to happen, it appears in life as in bytes, we see the right in the eyes only at the last moment, and of it. That is to say, we go from the most recent of things, they tend to be the most present and most important, and we track back from there. Like our lives, and that is the point we start from.

Living.

Being able to say, that we survived the challenge of a death, and living in the life that is defined by that moment. It is that moment that is the most, if not all, that you are living for right?

I am very much aware of the world that I live in, and quite frankly, not sure of what the world is that you choose to live in. The words that I write, the tales that I tell, are real and my own, and are shared as only snippets that somehow have fallen on a floor that you are looking at. But the floor is a giant cloud of light, like a wave of sorts, something that seems like it has no purpose, and only rage and fury, and seeks to wrestle from you the very thing you want to hold, and profess to want to hold, but do not live.

Your life, in your world, now.

In the world of this raging, and just wild brine tsunami, this ignorant and stupid wave of rants, and random links, there is some logic you just may not be able to see it. It is impossible to see it. A dandy, true man? Perhaps, if the eyes are open.

The empirical miracles prevent it. That is the simple truth. You can not hold the numbers in any universe, unless it is contained by the parameters of what you will.

In the case of others, what is willed upon them, and they willingly still, accept the hope.

The brine tsunami is not even aware of whether you can see it or not, it is not even aware of the purpose that it brings to the death of all that fall under it, or the waste that follows its trail.

It simply is, and does not apologize for it.

That is why you stare at them, wondering, why it came here, and how you could not have avoided the

Fuck, I am a “retired” young professional, and trying to get some of my shit shifted from on paper, combined with the massive data side, and share a truly fucking wild story, and write, but not to be read so much as to be taught – but feeling like more and more of the Twitter shit I am dealing with, appears to be…what?

Another great pun, or line?

Comedic genius?

What the fuck – is this high school?

I am aware, unlike the aforementioned brine tsunami, that given the content and demographics of the site, there are a huge variety of “species” that populate that beach, and most of them have a corporate interest, or are of a younger generation, that may find my longer pieces, or my style an annoyance, or rambling, dis-jointed.

Does not matter, this is part of what makes the whole of the tsunami, what is. In this case, you have not paid, or been “charged” anything to be here, and most certainly you have your own free will and volition, of course, unless you are too fucking daft to consider that you do and have to follow the “leader” of a different idiom.

Leave, and I don’t mean this just in the 140-character context; I mean it in the self-aware presence of being. Leave that shit behind, and trust me, I have no high school issues, and those and more, are credentials I am not called to provide right now to anyone, let alone some anonymous seaweed, it not even having any other purpose than that of to clean or to feed.

Service of some sort, the same thing all living things have.

What is alive?

The great public broadcasting station question all mankind seeks to answer with their generous donations.

These will, sooner rather than later, intersect with the other parts of the world, and there will be a tsunami, at least from my position, I can appreciate it may be considered something else, or the composition of the water may be something else, but the J-team and the gulch exist, as does the high ground.

Donations that one can align to the likes of those folks in the masses of the stands, at the sporting events, that somehow you can spot wearing the “I am with stupid” tee-shirts, and yet they are quite content in the dark humor of the child beside them, by most people’s accounts considered disabled, or challenged, dare I use the obvious word “retarded”.

Easier to say this joke with a fetaChop, but it is not a joke.

The arrow is not pointing at the child or the person that is blessed with an entirely different set of gifts from God, or the Universe if you choose to accept a different point of view, in fact I certainly do, I believe the “retard” is “this-abled“. It is us, that are stupid, and misinformed about what the “this” represents in the able. Life is just as beautiful, in another mind, and another time, because beauty exists, and it is everywhere, even in that mind we so easily toss around like a definition.

Dare I even say, it is a beautiful thing also to see the arrow pointing to the greasy fat pig, of a degenerate beside them, who chooses his ignorance, and for a lack of interest in wanting to digress into that foray, let’s just say he is a gross specimen of humanity. It is a beautiful thing to see this.

Like a double rainbow moment, when you realize the heavens and the skies and all of the universe has conspired to provide you with this glorious moment, amongst all of the madness, and you get to see the arrow pointed left, the child on the right, and the prism in the middle casting the Pink Floyd album cover most people would relate to, and few will recognize as a clever pun of having to re-fraction, because the right fractions were not accomplished in the first fractions, and it is only this action, that allows it all to be.

This moment.

So, my point…life is grand, if we just look at it differently.

Even in that moment, when the asshole swine sees the wave in front of him, I wonder if he thinks he is alive, or is busy considering the last moments before he tastes the brine.

The taste will be different for one that needs the brine, to cool them, to allow them to live and breath, or they are another, that despises it, and sees it as a bitter taste, a masking of a wave they care to avoid.

Or can’t.

What is seen, and said, can not be unseen, and I do not suggest that it is required to be. It should be embraced for it is, because that is, and resides in what the moment of now was. You can not change it, you can change your reaction to it today, and change the reactions of others and yourself at the time that was then, as you recognize them now, but you can not alter the physical wave. It is, and will be, whatever it is.

Much like your choice to run to, or away from it.

You can’t run from your past. It is what makes you, and there is no shame in you. A former serving USMC veteran did what had to be done to make the world, his world and the freedom he fought for, right and of a higher fidelity, a hi fidelus, if you will.

He respects the freedom one has to challenge the reason the war pigs culled machinations, but he stands just as tall today and forever, never leaving semper fi, like you never leave your skin until you die.

He stands, in front of any tsunami, known or presumed, and humbly smiles.

Committed to his life, to his purpose, to his stand seeking nothing more than the blessings of health, happiness and prosperity.

In that order, you are the richest man in the world today, as you stand there, in a customary humble bow, a dried, and haggard piece of cheese. presenting a guitar pick made of prehistoric, fossilized bacon.

Smile.

Do not look away.

*spark*

It is a beautiful sight, life is beautiful.

Semper feta fuckin’ fi.
I.

*abide*

By

Citizenship in a Gulch

Citizenship in a Republic. Theodore Roosevelt in 1910.

This man spoke about courage skill tenacity, the obligations of a man within a state of nature, and being able to understand that the dust, the sweat and blood – are the echoes of an effective natural existence, fighting to accomplish what one wants.

Representing a complete and total disdain for the way that society may have begun to think about ones obligations of acting within a republic, the democracy, the general establishment of society that represented many, many things a hundred years ago. The impact and the changes to the way that men and women react, understand, communicate, transmit and effectively fight within this arena that we choose to be in.

When we consider the concepts of ‘you are responsible for the happiness’, what is will unequivocally be what is according to your mindset.

The mind is a very dangerous beast if it is left untamed and unchecked; unsupported within the very confines of an arena the parameters that you set for controlling it. Our mind body and soul represent three different distinct parts of humans, and what we believe we’ve come into the earth with and what we leave this earth with. There are two doors in this life; one we come into alone, and another we leave alone. As a result, it’s not about the one who points out that the other has stumbled or done wrong and professes through exclamation to be a judge of those deeds that could have been done better.

It is most certainly not about the man who actually just does nothing but spectate and take joy from some of the misery that could be existing within this arena.

It’s a torment and a challenge, the overcoming of it because of your will and purpose, and what you want to do, that is what it is about. The quest for greatness, of your own creation and action.

People have two fundamental drivers, that is either to seek pleasure or to avoid pain, and the avoidance of pain seems to be the greater part of that. This is why watching another go through pain and struggle to accomplish things that you may agree on, makes them a hero. If they seem to accomplish it, despite their struggle, you admiration becomes the essence of high regard. You have avoided the pain, and seen another gain, so you have a synthetic role, a synthetic essence, in this gain. Invested of sorts, and reaping some rewards. Right?

No? You don’t think that it’s an essence that’s important or you think that it fastidious, and you are going to laugh and relish the challenges that are in the arena.

You can laugh, but I would beg to differ, and argue that the importance of the citizenship in the arena concept and the credit does belong to the man who actually is in the arena.

The man who is marred by dust and sweat and blood who strives valiantly knowing that he is going to come up short again and again. Knowing there is no effort without error and shortcomings or without learning.

That man, deserves more than just a “don’t try” reference that has been warmed over by the Nike ‘just do it!’ campaign. Or the mediawaved form “they will tell you over and over again, that you can’t do it” another popcorn bag famous Nike ad slogan, but you will just do it because you are the one who is actually going to strive to do the deeds, you are going to know the great enthusiasm and the devotion that it takes to get there. You are going to define and understand what that worthy cause is that you are undertaking and you are going to be the one and the only one that truly knows.

Others might best know of those that are around to select the knowing of the best, but you are the one that ultimately knows that the triumph of high achievement has nothing worse in it than failure, which is one of the greatest things a man can accomplish, knowing that he is going to fail while daring greatly, while doing things that are so extra ordinary that his place shall never be with the motherfucking pieces of shit that represent the cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

That is the probably one of the saddest things one can imagine – people not having those experiences, not being able to see the fine difference and the big difference in the way that they live their lives. In fact, how they choose to live the life.

James Allan wrote the classic book back in the 1800’s, a favourite of mine for 15+ years, and I have read it a number of times. It is a  small volume about being aware, a meditation of sorts and a reflection of the understanding and experience of your self.

It deals with such things as thought and character and circumstance and how you’re dealing with those circumstances and what the differences are on how that dealing with the circumstance reflects in your health. In “As a Man Thinketh”, Allan talks about men and women being about the virtue of the thoughts that they choose and encourage. They are the makers of themselves.

As you think, so your heart shall be directed.

When you sit in the room alone in the dark talking to yourself people might think that you are crazy. People might say “wow that’s pretty strange, what odd behavior, how obscure.” Because the number of those people is greater than the number that would do that, or that typically find solace or escape or a place, a happy place if you will, a personal arena to struggle within for their own sake, the one’s that do that are considered odd, strange or eccentric.

They don’t see it as such however, because they exist in that space, the person that does that in the dark – typing on keys and reflecting on things that can be shared and passed along to other people, not because they are planned or they represent certain parts of research where you are reading off cue cards, no, they are natural, they are part of how and who you are – they have shaped you.

Nobody can replicate or duplicate who you are. You choose to make who that person is. Your act is the blossoming of a thought. The joy or the suffering of whatever the fruit is that you bring out, the man will garner and reap what is sown in the sweet and bitter fields.

Not all fruit is sweet, not all vegetables are bitter, not all of the wafty scent of shit appeals to everybody. A good wet field of shit on a hot summer day produces a smile that only a farmer could love. That does not make that smile irrelevant, nor does it make that smell perfume, it all is a function of the relevance of where you are in your life and what you are doing to impact that to make it different. You are going to go through that arena.

As a man focuses on a seed that is germinated into the mind, the garden represents your mind as a fertile soil, so, any foul seed  like a tumor in the brain, could get to a point where that tumor is about to explode, because it has manifested itself, by being thought of, as something in the garden. The pop, a crack like a seed, thus beginning to grow.

The cracking of that has got to be a painful process, the outer layers break, rupturing and piercing, and from within, that great deal of pain becomes this enormous new part of growth. This new life, again, coming from what was nothing, before it was even a seed.

I watched a show the other week about some black woman Iyanla, on the Oprah Winfrey network, I am not a big fan never watched a full episode in my life but this Iyanla woman had an episode called “Fix Your Life” and a big 300 woman audience.  I had been given a call and told to “watch it now” – don’t ask please – and she was talking about how do women expect to be treated this way, and what are we doing that is really pushing away the people in our lives as opposed to engulfing them when we want these open relationships.

Talk about Robert Fucking Di Niro, and I know it will be impossible to have some of the boys appreciate what I am trying to say, but being able to articulate it with a bunch of the words so I don’t get cut off, and so that they can read it and see it in its entirety, that becomes a moment in time, and humour in and of itself.

Stop fucking laughing, yeah, I am making a baked tangent leap of faith back to this Iyanla woman. She’s older, bigger, not exactly “beautiful” and or “my type” by many stretches of other’s imagination, but I can tell you, from my perspective, I just fell in love with this woman’s IQ.

Her confidence, her humour, and her fight in the arena, as a single, older black woman that has had challenges with men and dating, she spoke wonderfully, and powerfully as she talked about the concept of “intimacy” being similar to the words “into-me-see.” Because intimacy doesn’t represent a loving intimacy just between lovers here as were talking about it, but it also represents how you deal with the world and those around you. These were powerful words, regardless from who they came, or what their story was. She may be a great performer, or she may have just lived a life that has blessed her with the truth, and the integrity of character to walk tall.

Truth is a spine breaker, or a life maker. Can’t walk tall without a straight, and true spine.

You are reflecting what is within you, and so you have to remove what issues are in you and address those shortcomings, those judgments. You have to change what goes into the garden, to get what come’s out of it. Fantastic stuff, and as I begun to write this, and allowed my thoughts to take me on this journey, I would have never assumed my journey would take me to including Roosevelt, Allan and Iyanla.

Well played Fetaman, well played. You urban metrocheesexual.

Wisdom of the ages, life as one big remix, it has all been said before – does not mean that new way of expressing old messages is not going to yield new insight. Experiences and expressions are like tiny books that you can share with others, and with each reading, there will be more you can see, or consider.

One example of translating this old wisdom, into modern lore, was an exercise where she asked a woman from the audience to stand in front of her cameraman, and she said “hey just stand in front of this guy, and pretend he’s the best man you have ever met in your life. This is the woman that you want to marry,” she said to the camera man as the audience chuckled. She had me in her spell, and I immediately allowed my mind to hear “hey, just stand in front of this woman, and pretend she’s the best woman you have ever met in your life.”

This is how I perceived her to say it, even though this was a woman talking to another woman about a relationship with a man, I turned it into my experiences with former loves, and one in particular.

What are the things that are causing you to have issues with her? She rhymes off three things will this man be there for me will he trust me will he be faithful, does he love me for who I am?

Whatever that all was exactly, it doesn’t matter, Iyanla just had her step back. She asked more questions, and more “definitions” or “road blocks to acknowledging anything great could happen” cause this woman to step back, and back. She finally stepped back so far that she almost fell off the stage. Beautiful woman, really beauty attractive but just fucking strange and dark, I didn’t find her loving. In fact, I found her frightening as a person, let alone as a man.

If I could have a date with either of those two, it would be Iyanla in a heartbeat. Sexually it was the one she had on the stage, just this gorgeous specimen of a woman would say the typical moron. Well, that would confirm why we can label him as a self inflicted, cerebral gunshot to the cranium logicus. This “sexual specimen”, had gone through 129 dating profiles of men and accepted a second date with one. That has got to be a sign of some other things, and I can tell you, the physical side of attraction can be very easily accommodated by a mature self, but a mature self can never tolerate an ignorant or weak mind. It can love one, if that has been an act of God, if the universe has brought a challenge to another human, that love will be pure. But to love, be attracted to, or even want to aid an ignorant or weak minded person of their own making, is a skill set I find very difficult to hone.

Choice. All about choice, and where you want to be in your arena. All about being aware of what you are putting into the garden, and why you are getting out what you do. In today’s world, there is a lot of add water and mix, press button and heat intelligence, but it will never replace the benefits, and the nutrients that come from the natural, hand worked, pride taken, intent given, garden. Ever.

Some of my ramblings on what it’s like to be a plant in the garden, or some diversions about what it’s like to be the man in the arena- fighting for what it is that you believe in, and being aware of what it is you believe in.

Knowing that the seeds that you plant in your mind are going to be reaped, sown and toiled upon, in fertile soil and nutrition, all in an order, that has it grow. Having sunshine and water, food and minerals in the soil, all tools that provide stability for the plant to grow. This tree of life that sprouts, and will be what it is within us, not so different from the tools and the weapons used by the man in the arena, to provide for his own reward. A life.

The garden, the arena, they are both one and the same. Of a sort, I would say, in another way, I would defer to other points but for now, I can extend a final thought, if you will indulge me with but a fragment more of your attention.

The thoughts in the mind that made us who we are, and if those thoughts encompass a belief you can take all of the ingredients you need to make the perfect garden, or the right items needed to win in the arena, that you have all of the critical elements, you should be able to just make anything happen, you are wrong.

One could argue, that it would make sense for someone to take all of the water and sunshine that a seed may require to grow throughout its lifetime, and just give it to it all at once. With all this water and sunshine and food, would that seedling grow into a tree immediately?

The intelligent child knows this, and most certainly an aged adult would know that it would not, in fact we know that we would probably kill it, we would mar it with blood and sweat and tears.

It would not know victory; its defeat would be the very demise of its ability to live and to thrive, simply because you have tried to help.

No, you can’t do that, or you should not, as the most important part of living and growing and of thinking like a man does, being in this arena, is understanding a constant that none of us can really control, so much as we can mitigate, partitioning a proactive way. It is like following a tide, or a current, understanding where that tides is going to take you and letting it take you there.

Things happen for a reason and they always happen over a span of time. What those reasons are will not be influenced by time, so much as constrained by it, and your actions.

Time is the one most important critical foundation to building of that tower of Babel, on your own.

I have changed my tower. It is now an Abide Pirgo, my own homage to the White Tower of Thessaloniki. It is a tower fortified with my own blood, sweat and tears, binding an abide that no matter what it is that you do it the foundation of it, the establishment and engulfment of the very essence of this tower in of itself, is the hole that none can penetrate, and in the case of many, a hole they can not construct, and if they could, a whole they would likely not be able to get out of.

This is time.

The most precious critical aspect of how you are undertaking your life, whether you are taking advantage of time or you waste it.

It remains the most critical constant in all things living. Without it, there is no life.

Life is to be lived and enjoyed and shared. Find empathy for those men and women in the arena, working the productive and shared gardens, understanding them for who they are, and embracing that as a loving attitude.

An actual attitude, a “love” that is an extent of what you can do for yourself, and if you can do that, and are interested, you can do that right across the fields, for everyone, in the gulch.

I would, and do. In my way, on my way.

I am just simple man, made of cheese, doing.

*abide*

By

Pray she Said

So I did…

 

*abide*

By

Hemingway – I Like Canadians

By A Foreigner

I like Canadians.
They are so unlike Americans.
They go home at night.
Their cigarettes don’t smell bad.
Their hats fit.
They really believe that they won the war.
They don’t believe in Literature.
They think Art has been exaggerated.
But they are wonderful on ice skates.
A few of them are very rich.
But when they are rich they buy more horses
Than motor cars.
Chicago calls Toronto a puritan town.
But both boxing and horse-racing are illegal
In Chicago.
Nobody works on Sunday.
Nobody.
That doesn’t make me mad.
There is only one Woodbine.
But were you ever at Blue Bonnets?
If you kill somebody with a motor car in Ontario
You are liable to go to jail.
So it isn’t done.
There have been over 500 people killed by motor cars
In Chicago
So far this year.
It is hard to get rich in Canada.
But it is easy to make money.
There are too many tea rooms.
But, then, there are no cabarets.
If you tip a waiter a quarter
He says ‘Thank you.’
Instead of calling the bouncer.
They let women stand up in the street cars.
Even if they are good-looking.
They are all in a hurry to get home to supper
And their radio sets.
They are a fine people.
I like them.

Ernest Hemingway

*an abiding smile eh*