Thursday, December 31, 2009

Me queda tan poquito tiempo?



Pues, es la vispera de el ano nuevo. Viejas profecias de mi padre dicen que este es el ano en el que me muero, y si me recuerdo a mi mismo mi ultimo cumpleanos, donde mi cabeza termino rota por un tronco de arbol, pues...

No es que sea supersticioso. Mas bien, es que algo se sobre estas cosas que mejor es no saber.

Mi vieja madre tenia pensado que se moriria cuando cumpliera 32 anos. Bueno, no se murio ella, pero si la abuela Maria Antonieta. En un accidente automobilistico. No me acuerdo bien bien de quien es la profecia de mi muerte cuando cumpla 42, pero en marso, cumplo 42 y me he estado preparando.

Va.

Digamos que nadie puede predecir el futuro. Seria mejor, no? Pero la neta es que no importa. "Life is but a play played by fools, full of sound and fury signifying nothing at all". Si me muero antes de los 43 pues nimodo. Mi vida ha sido buena. Si no me muero, pues entoses me caso (con la que sea, realmente, solo que sea muy joven y pobre). Y si me caso, me aviento un hijo.

Su nombre sera Ramakrsna. Pero le voy a decir Ram. Y si tengo una hija, pues la voy a llamar Raven.

Ram y Raven tambien fueron mis nombres de nino. Me auto-nombre con ellos, porque en mi corazon, sabia que son mis nombres.

Ese hijo.. creo que tiene ojos azules y cabello dorado. Lo veo si me esfuerzo. Pero .. que digo? Nadie puede ver el futuro, verdad?

La Muerte.

La Santa Muerte!

Pues no puedo negar una cierta curiosidad para saber que hay de el otro lado. Mi papa ya es ateo real. Dice que no hay nada. Imaginar un Sheik Sufi ateo. No me sorprende. Mi madre esta convencida de Krsna. Pero luego, cuando la miro bien fijo al ojo, me pregunto cuan fuerte relamente es su fe. EN Krnsa. Por eso me molesta un poco su fe. Por que no se .. no puedo ver con claridad.. si es absoluta o no. Es muy atea, mi pobre madre. Extremadamente scientifica, atea, atrevida. Y sufre mucho. Mi padre tambien sufre, pero sus razones generalmente son mucho mas materiales y mundanas.

Y yo?

Pues, veamos. Lucifer ha sido mi angel guardian (por admission propia ya hace mucho), y mis intestinos y mi corazon me dicen que el mensaje fuerte es el de Kristo. Bueno, pero donde yo realmente regocijo mi mente y corazon es en el Bhagavad Gita, por que ahi si encuentro lo que siento que es verdad. El Koran me aterra por que de alguna manera, tambien siento que esta lidiando al Juicio Final. Y entonces, me encuentro entre el Maha Pralaya del Koran y la Biblia untados en el Nectar poly-deistico del Bhagavad Gita y claro esta, con un gran deseo que los ganadores de este cuento sean los Mayas y Kukulkan.

Que puedo esperar de la muerte bajo estas influencias mentales/espirituales? Un fuerte bardo de confusion y claro, el chance de la Luz Clara. Pero mejor me espero a estar muerto para ver que Bardos me van a tocar.

Una parte de mi esta bastante convencida de que esto que me esta pasando hoy y ayer y antier y por unos bueos anos es un Bardo. No estoy perfectamente seguro de el momento de mi muerte en esa theoria, pero sospecho que fue cuando me desangre de la pata en el bosque de Valle de Bravo. Mis dialogos con la virgen y el Senor de los Cielos fueron demaciado claros. Los hombres mortales no deverian tener derecho a tanto pinchi dialogo con los Dioses sin algun precio. O pon tu que si deverian, pero la neta, pocos lo tienen.

Y pues, a la mejor si soy un pinchi zombi. No me sorprenderia ser zombi. Pero eso si, descanzar finalmente de este cuerpo y realidad en ese caso seria un placer. Un 'despertar'.

Y valla que no tengo prisa.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

It's only Bronchitis



Spent most of my day at the doctor's office, waiting for a chest x-ray and an EKG. At least my heart is okay, and what I thought was serious trouble turned out to be only a bad case of bronchitis.

Spoke to mom on the phone. She and sis are depressed and out of money. But at least nobody is hurt and nobody has been arrested.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

SHIT!



Shat myself today. AN amazing thing. Just a little lump of shit, down the crack of my ass, but enough to remind me that I'm human. Couldn't get the bathroom door opened. Spinter muscles not what they used to be. Very embarrassing, but it's good to get it out. Say it. I wonder how many 40 plus men have the same problem?

Anyhow...I'm still pretty sick. This cough I get.. It's getting the worst of me.

I gotta remind myself that I can't prevent nor change world events. I can only choose how I react to them on an individual basis. Stupid ass thing to remind myself, of course, but then again, I get the feeling, often, that I am in the eye of a hurricane.

If folks somewhere take serious some of my ideas for global change, that is really out of my hands. But not sharing these ideas would be cowardly. What are these ideas?

1. A border-less world NOW.
2. A transparent government - so transparent you can see your leader's ass-crack on live-cam 24/7.
3. An end to all so called 'consensual crimes' including but not limited to pot smoking and internet surfing. No victim, no crime.
4. (and this one was from my friend Gabriel, but makes a lot of sense: One Gold Coin system for the whole world.
5. A moving world-government HQ. Kinda like Starship Enterprize.

Reality bites. Maybe the world is not ready. Maybe I should stick to just blogging and shitting and pot-smoking. In fact, there is NOTHING I can do about what's going on. I can only watch. Violent movements will be destroyed by the most powerful. Peaceful movements don't seem to work. Iran is a clear example. What is there left?

Survival. Take care of your own and of the nearest and dearest to you. Somehow that too sounds ... cowardly.

Not to act is the same as acting against in some cases. Especially.... Oops. There's the tell-tale tounge up the crack. What's wrong with the above thought? Not to act? We act always. LIfe itself is an act. Simple breath puts you already there, in the zone. But how can we discern right action?

Say.. I wonder if the illuminati installed an ass-crack device on me. They would have to install also a mind-reading device to deffirenciate between 'good' and 'bad' thoughts. Hmmm. Not very likely. More of a psychosomatic effect. But that does mean that I have certain ... Oh, never mind. It's too complex to even consider.

Actually, the most logical explanation is that I'm TOTALLY FUCKING NUTS!

Hmmm.

Lemme see:

1. I'm totally fucking nuts.
2. The world is more fucking nuts.
3. What do we need to do with that?

Find SANITY. But then, what exactly IS Sanity in a totally fucking nutty world?

We could start with truth. Now, this blog is an experiment in truth. My truth. A very, very, very, very personal, solitary truth. And yet, it is a shared truth. Blogging is act of sharing. Therefore, it is a solitary/collective truth.

So then.. The act of sanity would be to find similar cases to my own, that can be shared accordinly to compare notes.

Hmmm....

Still. What a shitty day.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Office kids back at play...



One has to wonder: saboteurs? government agents? aliens?
It really don't matter. Once you have a relationship, it's all the same.
If I could make them nakked... I would find out if they are Yakuza or not!

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Lazy Sunday Rant



Fact is, I don't feel so good. Me dio la madre de todas las gripes. Anyhow. I watched this movie about four suicides last night. Really freaky stuff, because the last suicide is a 12 year old kid that jumps off his rooftop. A Skato from L.A. jumping off the rooftop because his daddy broke his skateboard.

Sure, I tried suicide a few times. Heidelberg was once. I was gonna jump off the Schloss. Then there was the E Entertainment building. I guess jumping off buildings would be my way to go. If I failed, I would have to fly.

Maybe I didn't fail. That's been one of my persistent fantasies: I killed myself back in ... was was it? 90? 92? Anyhow.. Everything else is just like me in Hell but a freaky kinda hell where you can have just enough fun to think you are alive. That would make all my family and friends fiendish demons who are here just to torment me, but only enough so I can't figure out it's really hell.

Of course, the opposite could be true. Maybe this is heaven and all my family and friends are just angels trying to make me remember to wake up. I suppose there is a part of me that doesn't think for a second that he deserves 'heaven'. That would be the part that get's his ass licked by demons whenever he has a bad thought.

But the real truth is that I'm just probably fucking nuts and none of these things are real, they are just my 'version' of reality. But hey, the excercise of this blog is to be totally transparent with my thoughts. To be ... invisible by being totally visible. Skin-out-skin-in...

Writers write.

So... The planet is Uranus. I like the name. Your Anus. It's not MY anus, mind you, it's YOUR anus. Has to be somebody's anus. Who the fuck are scientists to tell us there is no life in that big old blue planet? Just because it's a sea of ammonia don't mean it's not full of ammonia-fish!

My right eye is all fucked up. It's blurry and I can't see much out of it with or without glasses. I need to go see a real optometrist. Could have something to do with the fact that I'm always squinting to see the sun with it. Yeah, I've probably burnt my retina or something. Of course, if I were a totally 'spirit creature' I would need no retina. Flesh sucks.

So, the exact experiment here,with this here blog, is to hide nothing from myself. Consequently, I won't hide anything form anybody. Anybody can look at this and say: wow! He didn't hide shit. The trouble now, is to find out what I don't know that I am hidding from myself.

For instance, I've just confessed that I 'feel the devils' tounge' up my ass when I have bad thoughts. Now, surely there's perfectly good scientific reasons for it. Undoubtedly, there is psychological reasons. Psycho-somatic effects of this kind are probably common in mankind. But the bottom line is that talking about something like feeling a spirit tounge up one's ass is not ... easy. I bet it's not too common either. I bet folks hide shit like that all the time from other folks. So an entire area of psychosomatic study is not studied because folks hide that the devil licks their ass when they think bad thoughts.

On the other hand, if it's hidden, it can't be cured. This is the Doctor House reflex in me. I don't care what folks think about it. I care about what I must do to change it if it bothers me.

Folks freak out about the shittiest stuff.

Me?

I freak out about love.

It's 11.11.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

The Real Meaning of Christmas



So, here I am, wondering why I'm not surfing porn, and getting answered by the endless talkative sirens outside. What matters your mind when so many other minds think for you? Truman Show indeedy! More like... The fugitive. The mind fugitive. What a pleasure this world would be if only I could dream my own dreams.

Instead, I surf endlessly Alex Jones and David Icke and I take it to heart that the Evil Empire is out there to suck my soul. But then, last night, I drempt of none other than the black guy from DRIVING MISS DAISY cutting off my arm with an axe in a room full of dignitaries and movie-stars after some seriously screwy action with Michael Jackson, some kid and a fourth person who I don't remember. What dreams Hollywood brings into my crazy-head.

So much for dreaming!

I actually woke up startled at the dream. It was so fucking realistic. Morgan Freeman was inside this cabin and I came in from the snow. I felt the axe bite into my right arm, right about where my tattoo is. When he went for my middle finger next, that's when I woke up.

Life is such a weird trip. Coming out of Mexico with Homeland Security sequestering me at the Embassy and then at the border. I kinda expected this attention,I suppose. From 2001 on down. But it's weird. It makes life dream-like. Never know who is hidding behind the wall.

It's okay. I have entered into a resignation period in my madness. I am not like other folk, so I can expect always the worst. Those dudes in jail were gonna kill me. That's real shit. No makeup. No Hollywood crews. That's real bad dudes who kill people, trying to kill me or at least hurt me badly.

Oddly, I'm still out here, doing my thing. Now I can only wonder how will it all end?

1. With 2012 being a huge dud... My life winding down into ordinary old age, sickness and death and maybe helping out a little bit my family.

2. With chaos - utter chaos!

I don't suppose I would change my actions either way. I am okay with who I am. Neither God nor Devil nor ... just ordinary human being, trying to find the truth.

My 'winning strategy' is to prepare for the worst. What is the worst that could happen to me? Jail sounds pretty bad. But it's bearable. Violent death? Nobody can prepare for that, I reckon. Public disgrace. Folks who actually know me, will exhonerate me always. Madness... Well isn't that what I am living now?

Mexico... The border. All that shit. Well, lets just say that if I were an opportunist and an asshole, I could get seriously into the whole mess 'on the side of the Mexicans' because I know they are going to win. But do I want to 'be on the winning side' of a conflict that is just plain stupid on both sides?

A real victory would be a simple dissolution of the border because we have all reached a critical mass of enlightenment. Fat chance of that in South Carolina.

Chaos is a very personal thing. I call myself 'chaotic good' because I really don't believe in laws or sins or any kind taboos but I also don't think folks should spent too much energy hurting each other. Such a definition of my person helps me ... or does it?

Is there a Lawful Good religious nut hidden somewhere deep in my brain? And if he is truly 'Lawful' - does it not make sense that he would be the anthesis of my chaotic good persona which is actually Lawful Evil? What does it mean, anyhow to be Lawful Evil? It means to follow dogma to it's worst conclusions... ie: "thou shall not suffer a witch to live". Or even worse: "Hearts and Souls for Kukulkan!".

By following Chaos I am not pulled into a definition of my reality that stifles possibility. Pederasty, Sodomy, Zoophilia... All of these can 'more or less' fall into a Chaotic-Good persona so long as no goats are hurt during film-making.

Or...

Am I just so full of shit that it stinks up all the way to Heaven?

Monday, December 21, 2009

Hollywood December 21 2009


Writers write.

It's taken me a while to get the balls to write a blog. Oh, I've written anonymous blogs all over, for quite a while, but my mind has been closed, shut out from public scrutiny for many years. I tried to be 'transparent' - transparency comes at a cost.

Blogs blur the line between the public and the private. My theory is that the internet is a primitive Akhasic Record, primitive, because our culture, our society is still spiritually speaking in the stone age, and the obvious result of such primitiveness is violence, war... The shit we live daily.

When I was in jail, and that asshole sucker-punched me for speaking my mind, I realized that speaking one's mind is not very healthy in such a primitive world. Reason. Logic. Truth. They are of no avail in a jail cell. Brutes will be brutes, and they will live brutish lives.

Mom feels these creatures are basically "desechables". I am starting to agree. But at a cost. There is always a cost.

If you have truth mechanisms in your body, they apply to yourself as well. Have you ever felt the devil's tongue up your ass? It's not a nice experience. It's a direct link with Hell telling you: your mind fucked up.

Verbal diarrhea. Mindstuff coalesing into thoughts. Like jello, it has no beginning and no end. It does nothing to resolve the NOW. But, on the other hand, writers write. A 'writer' is a function of Ego wanting to edify a thought to make it something.

Nothing is nothing.

Scientists tell us that there's 11 dimensions of reality and that the 4th dimension is time. Dad thinks it's 'thought'. That's what the Sufi mystics have told him surely. I'm not so sure. In fact, the very ignorance in my mind is a recognition of the great mystery of reality.

Perhaps I do run on faith.

I have a FEMALE deity tattooed on my back. That makes me a total idolater wut? I don't have the balls to be an atheist. Folks are so worried about money in the year 2009 almost 2 years before 2012.

So asleep!