Facebook Diaries 3

January 9, 2018

Be Silent, Silent Silent, Only silence transmits truth…Why stay silent, when you have a mouth or hands to communicate your own life experience, as it is just as important as every other life experience.When you have a mouth, it is not to stay silent.Silence is never within the realm of talking, moving, doing, dancing and any other activity we do.It’s always been beyond.Peace is never been part of the visual, always beyond, yet you can also embody peace. That peace is not necessarily in every outside action you do, yet to be peaceful in your core is paramount. You don’t want to instil hate, yet your words can and should sometimes carry anger. An anger that has been broiling inside all of us, just like repressed sexuality, over or under exposed in today’s societyYou can be the outspoken wheel of Silence, to set things in motion, to rouse the sleeping dragon.Western Society breeds violence and over exposed sexuality in today’s media (series, movies, music, news, internet, all of it, which fuck with your mind, and we even enjoy it, I honestly still do, it need not disappear in my opinion. I honestly love both aspects of today’s society, but it does not toy with my mind anymore. I enjoy it for what it is. I am peaceful inside.

January 11, 2018

Here is why most spiritual teachers stop at: ‘Let it Be’.They already know you can’t stop there. Yet they mostly can’t bring you further than this, as the step from let it be to DOING is a personal step only you yourself with the guidance you have, can do. And maybe they don’t know the next step themselves. Some do, some don’t. Yet that doesn’t mean you can’t go further than ‘let it be’I don’t intend to stop at ‘let it be’. I want to bring you all the way where you can infuse your being in your doing, and your doing becomes your souls mission, where your inner fire burns everything in your path away, so you can stay on your path. Rightly so. Creatively with heart, and yet ‘let it be’ is still infused with your souls mission in a certain way.Most teachers only teach from incomplete views, which is not bad either, because they also have pupils that need such teachers. The least have the general picture or complete picture which bring you where DOING is your only nature. Unknowing Doing, and yet somehow still knowing in a way .A real teacher brings you to your own teacher in your own heart, because that is where the true teacher resides.Some teachers stop at ‘let it be’ because that is their souls mission. Don’t judge a book when you don’t know the full story, which you never will anyway .

January 12, 2018

I’ve never realised until recently how short a day actually is… Amazing, why let it go to waste with unneeded activities? Find a beautiful balance where you create more than you consume

January 12, 2018

We all desire some kind of salvation, where we are free from what we want salvation from.Yet this salvation is only imaginary, because you want to suppress one integral and vital part of yourself.Only hand in hand with every part of yourself, have you found true everlasting salvation, and still there is trouble, even in the land of salvation ^^.

January 12, 2018

The teacher that only force feeds his own knowledge is no teacher of any worth

January 12, 2018

I just happen to love building sand castles.No matter how often or with who it fun fun every time. The grains of sand are all different, there may be different hands helping, yet no sandcastles are alike. No matter how high or low we build. Once i decide to build then i build. I myself decided to build. As long as it was fun to me. When i felt it was done, i stopped, no matter how finished the sand castle is. When the sun rises above the roof, i will merrily begin again with anyone lending a hand

January 12, 2018

No truth gives absolute freedom, and there is also no absolute truth, and yet absolute freedom exists, because it is beyond truth and non truth

January 13, 2018

Social RecluseYes, you can become the master at social reclusion.You can obstinate from society because it is sooo bad.You can ‘master’ all your fears.Nothing tempts you anymore.Yet when you leave your 4 stable secure walls, castle with moat, crocodiles in the water and a herald to announce your coming, your dog; where is your security?There may be that hot chick or dude that just leaves your lips watering for more.There may be that cigarette, which you mastered totally of course, you are so far beyond smoking now in your little constructed heaven.Remember the beer and sticky icky?You are beyond the waters of temptation.You have mastered all there is to master,but the fear of fearing and thus unequivocally everything you ever feared.Why is fear so bad?It is just part of what makes you human.It even drives you to move quicker when there is a lion tailing your sorry ass, hungry for that booty.You ain’t much more than an animal yourself in your monastery, so far beyond the world.A monastery of seclusion, not all inclusive joy.All embracing of life.A celebration for life, with all its consumerist things.A celebration of the great together.And yet it may also be, that they are actually holding the seams together with their bare hands, knuckle and all, there up high in the mountains of Tibet.That they keep this world from tumblin down, so we may live our dreams of all inclusion.They chose their life, and live their life the way they want.Gotta hand them that. No knuckles.

January 13, 2018

Even the most self realised person, entity, being or whatever ones holds oneself to be, still creates his own reality.What magnificent power, that creates births new and ever fresh realities, with every thought uttered before even word was spoken. You have all this power, to birth newness in old sails. You are this fresh breath that blows up sails to they’re fullness.You are that fullness.What reality you want to create now? Next? How much more crazy and awesome can you make each one of our realities?You can shape yourself in any shape you want. You are that kind of creator.And yet this process of creation, can be done together too. If there is one person birthing new realities, so can more people together work on one certain reality.The power of believes.

January 14, 2018

When did words become to spiritual to be uttered?When did activities become to spiritual to be done?Why would something be spiritual or not?Why are words not just words, beyond all emotion, thought and creative process?Why are activities not just activities, beyond all your ideas of yourself?You decide, said that empty hollow voice in my head. Yet that voice ain’t the decider, it is just that a voice, sounding eerily similar to your own spoken voice, which also has a huge span of tones it can hit, smash at. More often than not, slightly more masculine or feminine depending on which you prefer. More raspy, more sexy, more lispy, more smoky. Not because you smoke of course ehh. Be creative here. Be fearless, see your voice however you want.But why do we need to see our voice, words or activities that lead you to doing anything, anyhow, in anyway??You may see it, but do you really need to see anything like anyhow in anyway??That voice…. Hrmpfff My voice? Your voice?Ahh whence that insolent noise come from? It’s part of me, yet not really is it? I don0t want it to be part of me. It is too doughy, too smokey. Too much words with too little meaning.Ahh to the flames with everything..I just speak, do and move. Let that voice inside be that voice inside. It ain’t anyhow anyway, right? Yet it may still be useful, really.I am flabbergasted what to do, what not to do? Should I respond, should I not? Said the knight saying Niii.I’ll just biiii superman today, then I’ll be a hero tomorrow.When you do whatever you do. OWN IT. YOU ARE DOING IT.No matter the other people’s ideas, more correctly your own, are the invaders.Accept it. Smoke out, said the Indiana Jones with a whip, here’s my peace pipe.

January 14, 2018

Let’s Veil the bride before her marriage.On she goes, veiled in her sexy white dress, up to the altar.The whole ceremony is held, some tears are shed, and then finally you may unveil the bride and kiss her, but not before, because custom DICKtates so.Why put a veil over the bride? What is there to hide? Have they not slept yet together, so the hubby won’t get too spurred to just grab her hands and run behind the church in some nice alley?Why this marriage actually, to prove a timely love? Because both will die…Why not just marry in all honesty completely naked?Those are awesome marriages, where they at least have the balls, to just be themselves, without a 1000 dollar dress.Veil veil veil, I don’t want to see. Veil me, I’d rather eat some nice fresh veal.Why talk about Marriage actually, when I quite clearly talk about veils?Who was that fool that said there is a veal over reality?Let’s linch him or her, was just some cooky liar.What veil? Is reality not beautiful enough without a veil?Does reality need a veil, so it doesn’t make of us small nothings that rise to ‘somethings’?Is this veil really necessary? Is it all a simulation?Well it darn well feels real to me. Veiled or not, This reality I make mine. This is where I stay. This is where I burrow my roots. This is where I proclaim I am either a nothing or something.I love this reality, I don’t want to swap it for anything else. Nothing can entice me to move away from here, except Death… But as long as I am living Life matter, this is where I make my stand.This is where my roots are entwined into reality, because I am part of that reality and reality itself.This walking body is my reality.This walking body moves along the equator of life, over hills and mountains, crevices and pitfalls, yet there is always a way out, a way further, until death knocks at my door. Then I willingly give myself into her care. She nurtures me back, and then I go again along this merry ride, in this my reality.

January 14, 2018

Into the desert I walk.Mile upon Mile.To never return.My foot steps leave non but traces of dust behind.These traces you can’t follow.The destination you can’t know.And yet you will also walk into the desert, leaving your own trail of dust behind to an unknown destination.You’re leaving behind this grass fed world, full of innocence and purity.Chew on grass regurgitate and chew again.Out comes the grass, fertiliser for the next grass to grow.More grass to feed, more fertiliser to spread.These are crumbs you can follow again and again.Eating grass is too easy, so also you go into the desert on roads unknown.In the middle of the desert, sun thrashing down on you with soft sunburst eye lashes.Over yonder they softly feed the grass.Yet in the desert there is no grass to regurgitate again and again.In the middle of the desert, you just feed yourself on the nutrition of the sun.It’s eyelashes penetrating into your deepest core.Your core bursting with the rays of the sun, starts shining it’s own rays, not much unlike sun rays.These rays are like lighthouses for all to see.In the deepest of the desert these lighthouses shine a road to follow on uncertain steps leaving no traces behind, and yet you are always urged forward, shining your own light stronger, which leads more seekers into the desert.Will the desert be a desert for always?Will these light towers breed new plants, that haven’t been there before, repopulating barren land?

January 17, 2018

Wild Flower poising her petals to the sun.Wild Flower closing her petals to the moon.From sun-up to sun-down her petals soak in the sunny gaze.This Wild Flower like a wild child her roots are sprawling through the earth rich crust.These sprawling roots stand grazing in bodies of their brethren plants, that once were also soaking in the sun.For this Wild Flower the same fate awaits, and yet she stands soaking in the sun, with all her splendour, for all to see.Our senses are mad for the flowery scent of pure innocence.This loving connection to the sun, so natural.For all who can see, that is a love song unsung, deaf to the ears, and yet so vivid to the naked eye.For her resplendent colours this Wild Flower attracts all the bees.Under her foliage insects find a roof under the shining sun, under the raining torment of full clouds.Those lovely roots soak up the drizzling water from heaven.And then came a mad running nature loving Vlogger, who for one second was so focused on the camera and not the nature, that oh so swift, all sudden this Wild Flower was no more.Her seeds would not burst new Flowers.Yet this Flower will feed other flowers, so Nature still rejoices.The sun goes on merrily gazing at all the flowers minus one.The Flower trampled down close to where she sprung from once in them golden days.Today on this golden day she returns, for the cycle to begin anew, only not with her own seeds.And yet her leaves will nurture other flowers seeds.These Flowers seeds will burst new wild flowers for the sun to gaze at, and all mad Nature Vloggers to trample on.

January 17, 2018

Lessons learned about writing a book:I can’t make a mentalised book.It wouldn’t be really be me then.It would be filled with mental crap all over, and would only lead into the land of the mentally insane. Mental crap you don’t really ever know for sure, whether it is true or wrong.And then there are so many writings that were made spontaneously, and yes those are filled to the brim with magic.So these you will find in this book.Needed to stumble in some walls before I could get rid of my own brain child. I don’t regret it any second. Pregnancy’s really aren’t easy .

January 18, 2018

Depravity.The world is just as depraved as you make it out to be, which in reality it isn’t, but since you believe something to be depraved, so it will seem to you.Since that can’t be the whole picture, how to get rid of this idea of sin? Of depravity?You will have to face that you actually think yourself to be depraved, which you mirror on somebody else so it doesn’t stick on you.What is the world, when it is neither sin, nor depravity you see in the world?Why d’you want another label to put back, to replace it by the old?A more beautiful label, so you can face your own depravity which still lingers?When it doesn’t have labels, what is it then?What are you without labels?Some process going on, which only continually shows you how you see yourself, since you can’t face yourself in that way, you react over the top or any other of those reactions, which are commonly labelled negatively into the extreme.More soul searching to do, until all those labels vanish, piece by peace.

January 28, 2018

Can/ Do you KNOW your heart, or does your heart KNOW you?

January 28, 2018

What stranger will you meet today? Where do you have to go to meet strangers?Who is a stranger to you? Your best of friends, you, your family? How well you know yourself and others?Why would you go to far off lands to meet new people and culture, when every stranger is the walking proof of a different culture.Culture is not one set and setting unlocked by the magic key. It is very distinct in all of us. Culture is very alien one from another, by skin, behaviour, family life and death traditions. We all may veer a bit more to the left or right with our personal culture.So why not meet the fish monger and see him as one culture by itself. The passerby as another one singular culture.Oh boy you have a whole world before you, with 6.5 billion cultures. Why move further than your village to emerge yourself with the faint whiff of difference? It is maybe even closer to yourself, difference. You are difference living and breathing one culture apart from all the others. Culture meeting other singular culture. Are you then a man of the world or a woman?Or are you singular distinctly yourself?Are you otherworldly in your own world?Are you the world within a world?What makes you YOU, and what doesn’t?What of you is permanent?Is YOU permanent?Immerse yourself in culture, breathe it in and exhale the luxury of stranger worlds right there at every step you take within this one world. Surrounded by it, living it, being it.

February 1, 2018

Amidst this alchemical creative process before my eyes unfolds the big master’s plan of the biggest plan ever to be conceived.The words just unfold by themselves more awesomeness, more of me. My beingness ever Fresh unfolding the words meant to halo out aeons later, to brighten up the sky, my beloved sky.The sun bursting out high, it is spring soon.The flowers begin to burst, the summer is cooking up some heat, on a slow burner.When when when is it finally going to happen?That I KNOW the master plan?Tomorrow tomorrow, yet today let me light up my own mirage as these words unfold.This joy at the Me-ness of my words.The special uniqueness.My own gift to myself first, and then to you later.I rejoice at the venom and spices, the alcoholic beverage pumping through my veins, sputtering out of my finger tips on golden paper to wipe my butt with.This hurling vomiting spray exiting me, this rush of a waterfall.Yes that is the master plan right know, I NOW.Burn and lighten up your own sky first. How do you propose to lighten up anyone else, if you ain’t lit at first, before you dare unfold your uniqueness?

February 5, 2018

Missus Missus Man,Mister Parrot yeah,Gleefully gliding down the rabbit hole.Calmly riding the waves of Xanax and the lot.Xanax In Xanax Out.Day in Day out.The same few habits.The same few drugs.In and out, no change on the horizon.Coursing through my veins, this calm sedative rabbit.Rabbit with a carrot in the mouth, leaves are lit on fire.Down after the rabbit, chasing the american dream.Weird dreams are my only slavery from damnation.Money money my master and missus.Stalking the corn rows for that one healthy specimen.This one corn that has no maltreated genes.This only healthy nutrition.Because only good sound and safe nutrition is going to save me calmly.Exiting the rabbit hole, waving the white flag.Desperation is far behind me deep in the rabbit hole.My last pills have run their due course.Weird dreams no more.Clarity raving like a madman.Stroboscopic lights shining deep in my soul, my nemesis.My empty Soul behind bars.Disintegrating bars my soul crumbles out between the shafts of Justice.My soul now finally free.It can ride the calm waves of sedation.Even without Xanax my soul can find its way back deep inside the rabbit hole.What freedom do you speak of?What freedom is lasting?Only in the rabbit hole am I calm.Drop… Spill… Over the border… in this cup, the coffee spilling in between my lips.This hot beverage finally exciting me awake and sedated.Not really on one seat I find myself between two seats.One cheek per seat, I still find stability.These chairs are nailed to the ground, there is no way I could ever fall.Why did you feel lost?Why did you feel like you didn’t belong?Inhale exhale, breathe, time will pass all will be fine.Unless you actually can take one cheek of one seat and sit squarely on the next seat to come.Burnt he chairs, burn the ground, I will find stability in the smoke of security.I will find stability in the biggest of chaos.I am calm in the hail storm of the ages.Tickle me no more.I am untouchable in my rocking chair.

February 10, 2018

Dear agony in my veins and on my thrashed skin,making me appreciate life more than a healthy sound body ever could.That even with such a body I would find the daunting task to appreciate and give thanks for the misery my body is in?That I even not dare stop doing the bad stuff, just to have a healthy sound body again. I don’t want to lose this appreciation. Maybe I really need to have a diseased body to really feel alive.That i thank my own life for being so dark.Flabbergasted.Yes my dear skin I appreciate you, in all your dryness and cracked skin.I appreciate my bowels for farting when something too much came in.I appreciate the alcohol coursing through my veins—Tzzzz…Now my mind must be gone…It’s still there blessed mind.Not even drug induced paranoia could destroy you… So what will?That I may even find the audacity to love my own drug induced paranoia? Such a marvel is living.Mind blown to smithereens is not being mindful…Says Who?Some dry old cracked dead bones… Too afraid of the bad in life…Even though claiming to be free… Free of what?Ahh that rash on my skin, that agony, makes me feel alive.Buzz-ahin.

February 12, 2018

Duality –> Duanity –< Vanity

February 12, 2018

When do you stop being human?When will you ever stop being allured, spelled by, make spells, swirl this weird magnificent dance?When will you be at the top, where duality is no more?Dream on my butterfly.A butterfly still has two sides, one creature.One body consisting of two sides and one body.Meticulously crafted to soar the sky.Why fight what makes you YOU?Only sadness and repetition come from fighting, what makes you YOU.Whole and complete.

February 12, 2018

Find me that one Man that goes beyond LAW.Just be clear, that such a Man is hard to find.Whatever you think or consider to be new, isn’t so.In Whatever domain you think you are someone, doing something new, think again.The devil’s whip still commands your rhythm.Yet what if you could anticipate the devil’s rhythm?Would that create more fluidity?Would you then go beyond law?How can you know what is beyond law?Are there men that go beyond law?Do KNOW, but unbeknownst to you, your still dancing to the piper’s flute.

February 13, 2018

Thank You, for nothing!

February 14, 2018

Why numb the pain, when you have to go through the pain, and with the pain get out of the pain, to truly heal yourself, your way of interacting with your surroundings and your relation with yourself and your body. In ‘complete’ Here-ness in physicality in reality.

February 14, 2018

Imagine playing: Slipknot : MyPlague, Rammstein, or any other such kind of angry metal on a Silent retreat, spiritual whatever.Playing the harps of heaven, I’d by bawling my eyes out for such beauty.

February 14, 2018

Now it becomes time,to weave the singular puzzle pieces into one coherent jigzaw.For you to unpuzzle again into your own singular you,My book.

February 15, 2018

This conflagration, desecration, desperation of the drying up of life.This something within me that shines forth as me, my old me, burns into nothingness.I have been swimming against the tide of my own life, thinking I have been swimming with the stream called living.In reality I have been so strongly head butting in my own made up resistance that this Scheherazade could not have been going on any longer.It is so painful not to live, but luckily we have it easy by just numbing ourselves, our brains our US.Numb Numb dream sleepy wistful dreams.I concede defeat.I admit to have been wrong.I was living a lie.As much as it saddens me, to not having been honest to me, and those that matter to me, would keep up this lie even more.To keep this bottled up inside of me, I’d tear apart.If I live, then it is to live, as good as i possibly can, with what live offers me in each moment, not more not less.To be grateful for whatever is in my hands now, not tomorrow or yesterday.To work with and on what I can work with as often as I can.To not be lazy.To work in a way that I respect myself, and yet do still work on whatever can be worked out by me, that is the zist of what I call living.I AM.

February 18, 2018

This here text is a F YOU gently to all spiritual teachings and teachers.You sellers on market stalls on the bazars.Whomever scream loudest or most silently has more followers, leeched ex-viduals.The longer you associate with them, the more their being seeps into you, you become them.It’s very sexual in a personal way. YUCK.For all those wishing to associate with my writings, here you be warned beforehand. That there is a price to be paid, for the consumption of my rotten fish.Yet be my fish as unpalatable as it may be, it can still catapult you into your own personal being.The price to be paid changes your body, by taking in my embodiment hidden in my words, my being and the release of my embodiment, in my ‘teachings’.The consequent release of all those ‘teachers and teachings’ will be painful. Excruciatingly so. In that also lies a hidden gem, if taken in with open arms, this suffering.Be your own individual, even if it has to lead over my ‘way’ which may make you an ex-vidual for a certain time.With all this said, I welcome you, with open arms and open heart to buy my fish.

February 18, 2018

My own mortality is my biggest gift.This passing body, with changing ideas and truths, changing identities.Changing reliance’s on outer ‘powers, entities, beings, spirits, people, truths, gods, astral realms, dreamy landscapes, knowledge and whatever shit-not else exist’ = vibration or whatever kind of energy given a mental image or ‘experience with visuals’ to be more real, as just energy fermentation’s and co-shapings, be they as imaginary as they are, for they are not in the visible truth of what is now in the moment.With your simple body and weird emotions and thoughts.This simplicity that knows no outer things to be the real, nor all inner experiences to be real, yet all together and the certain something together make it real.

February 19, 2018

Plop goes the egg,smashed on the ground its shell opens up.You are the witness of a new birth.What miracle, what hurray. Blessed be what or who for this birth?The mother for giving birth? The father for spending his seed?Or whatever other way animals and plants have conceived of birthing?What allows these animals to be able to live? The food, earth they walk on? Plants rocks, shelter?This planet? If this planet then also all other planets and suns and galaxies and so on.If this galaxy, then also what made this galaxy appear, the birth from the unseen into the seen and its further propagation into different forms.Yet without any of these there would be no egg.So in the end it are all separate parts together.All play their role, yet in the visible what is tangible for a human with reason?What if he didn’t know there is the unseen, which is unreal for being unseen, and having no real influence beyond being responsible for the consequent unfolding of all the rest.Then there is only this one planet, with nature and animals and itself. The food and shelter and sleep.Yet man likes to massage his thought muscles and makes up all kinds of philosophical explanations for all that appears, and tries to express why he is where is at right now.Erroor.. Error… Error*Splash blang garbunkle**Bzrrttgggddj*Off goes the machine.The man opens his eyes and perceives only what is real and tangible.Living his life thankful for death.Yet as long as he is living he works with the tangible and real.Until his last breath be breathed, then he lay his limited body into the confines of the motherly womb, mother earth. To be shone upon by father sky and warmed by the sun, for the earthly crust, worms and maggots.Until another human figure gets dropped on earth to begin all over again.

February 19, 2018

The only way to drive out all other poisons, no matter they’re source (spiritual, books, items, curses and so on) is through taking your own specific name, not the one from birth, but the one you get from hearing inside, and letting some time for that name to emerge as a name to be used forthwith as your own individual ‘description’.Call that name loudly or inside repeatedly.With your consciousness centred on your own body. Even though sensing can go on, like music, people talking, reading, cooking…Repeat your own name again and again.To drive out all other manifestations and ‘beings’ that are foreign to your own.How else you think you can be your own individuality?Especially don’t call on: I AM.It really has to be your own specific individual name.

February 20, 2018

Leeches and energy suckersAll those spiritual retreats, beliefs, spiritual ‘masters’ and so on, that leave you feeling more empty than whole after being there. Why do you feel more empty instead of replenished? If you go back somewhere to resource to the self, then you should feel better afterwards, not sucked dry up to your bone marrow.Why though does it happen? Where does that energy go to? Who benefits of your energy? The energy you have been working hard for to gain yourself. Why would you give that off to someone else, and also inherit all their CRAP, MISERY, BULLSHIT, NEGATIVE ENERGY, RESTLESSNESS, DEPLETION, and so on…The one that benefit of your energy, don’t always know they are benefitting from your energy, but be warned, whenever you feel depleted, never go back again. You should feel stronger in all of your ‘spiritual work’, if it goes the other way, then you have found a leech. Please help warn others about those leeches. They are what makes the spiritual world so dangerous.For all their golden exterior, masters are masterful at sucking dry their followers. Practically anyone that gets revered over everybody else, is a leech. True masters are at the same level as you. Not below nor above. You should yourself be able to deal with your own misery and pain. Don’t look to drugs, spiritual retreats and the lot, to do that for you, because you may unwillingly or unknowingly be a leech yourself, or be leeched.Not everything disappears easily but patience gets you there, to find what you truly need.Your best medicine is always in being your own king and queen.Oneness is not the goal to go to.Individuality for everyone, while equal in being is the only true power this world needs.

February 20, 2018

The earlier your own hands figure in what you eat, consume, wear, dance to, read and so on, the better you can consciously knowingly consume without fearing to consume bad intent, negative materials, energy drains and so on.Create your own art for your own home.Create your own jewellery.Create your own food from bottom to top.Protect your own sanctuary called home.Protect your own body.

February 21, 2018

Time is meaningless?You are meaningless?You are nothing?Your life, family, garden, food then also don’t matter, because time is meaningless and so is all you eat and consume.Then there are no lessons to be learned, because a nobody has nothing to learn, may as well die, because as that also is meaningless, its just a movie. You don’t last forever. Then you are wasting clean breathing air, MINE. Nobodies don’t need that. Nobodies can only take useful things and put them to waste as nothing has a meaning in their life. Don’t be a sheep.Then also you aren’t God,because GOD creates.Yet mostly all these people in the spiritual field, do think that matters in some way and degree, so then your family isn’t meaningless, neither is your community you live in, neither is your consumption, neither is the time you have left on this earth. Neither is how you treat yourself and your body. Neither is how you know your political surroundings of your own country and of the planet you live in. Then it is also important you have a back up plan, and skills to sustain yourself. Then it is important that you know what you eat. Then it is important you can see beyond the political lies and meaningless puppies.Then all is meaningful. Then you are meaningful. No part of your own life or anyone else’s ever was meaningless.Only the belief anything and everything is meaningless, makes you become the detriment of this here earth, you so endearingly seem to love… And all those other people you say you love, when you in actually will be the one that helps push them over the brink of existence, including yourself.Where do you draw the line?Because I am a ferocious dragon. I care for where this earth goes to. I don’t want to be a nobody. MY life has a meaning, because I care.YOU?

February 21, 2018

Nature is my church,My home my hallowed ground,My family my lineage,My friends my holy men and women going through fire and flame,This beloved earth my home,My human body this mortal shell my only truth,In a world going through the abyss.Your surroundings are what help you, as long as you are able to sustain yourself.

February 23, 2018

How long can you run away from your base personality?Is there still any part, that makes you afraid to just be that personality?In all its normalcy, without any extravaganza.Base line.

February 23, 2018

Nothing is as it seems, and yet it is.

February 23, 2018

Everything works out in the end, doesn’t mean though the present won’t have to give you a mean suckerpunch for that to happen.

February 23, 2018

Wizard wizard in the pot,What Magic you whiskin away?Do you prepare some treat or some magic truffles?Will they be savoury or dreamy?Don’t forget your salt as your taste buds love Umami.Sweet sweet child of mine, when does the sour rain finally fall?Sweet sage of mine, don’t look so bitter.My sun today ain’t shiny at all, behind her deck of clouds.Once a day she lays down her clouds three in a row.The next day-ty it is Thunder, Enlightenment and Blizzard cold.Hell-full wholesome thunder blistering at your cheeky smile.Your smile you so fervently try to hide behind your card of the sun.But I pierce through your deck of cards.Their backs are all see-through, not unlike a wet white dress.Now please don’t think the nervous thoughts of what a white dress might look like.We all know such thoughts ain’t healthy.I am here to protect you from the pockets full of bad thoughts.I am here to spit in my own face, because these words so Lullingly wisp me away.Me the willow the wisp shining in my shades of grey.’Ere Daylight breaks the stroboscopic lights blind all who but look in my direction.Colours whirling and changing into rainbows of turkish delight.Sweet savoury child of mine, a toe i’ll eat to-dayte.Next morn come I’ll eat your nose.Haa-chuuu.Smoke up light up hazy dreams.Green willows bulging through my window.Smartly lit by the day light saving time.Moon shining through the cracks, my glue ain’t fixed yet.Tomorrow I’ll fix ya, don’t worry. Don’t mind the wounds though that stay open.You could close them today, but what’s the fun in having all your sorrows healed?There’d be noughing to do.Better roll your bread the only healthy way, like that there always is sum to do.Sum Tin Cho like m<y great great grand father Mr. Chinese once said…- Bavar-dous Fool

February 23, 2018

Ah the music so loud.Too loud it blasts away brain and the very fabric of music.My ears turn deaf at this insolent constant noise.Why do my ears not lofe the inherent silent beautiful noise of life?Who lives a normal live nowadays?I only wanna treat my body honeylike smeary sugary crap?No, I make war with my body, as that is my measure cup of what is my not too much nor too little.I war myself and yet there is no war with myself.The sound turns louder and then softer and yet this brain goes with the change softly, in loud blaring noise.Inmidst the city, my head turn the speakers on infinity.Sanely these words would not have left my lips, err fingertips.There must be something that when that other thing goes beyond measure there still is balance.What then is balance, what then is right?I just ain’t feeling wrong, being myself.I am at peazze with my own sane, brain soaked, drug soaked brain.Brain even not so easily typing the right connection from letter to letter, word to word.Yet this something works like magic.At each moment it knows what it tries to tell, with the measures it has right now.Where is this OFF-measure?To whom is there a off-measure?To whom is there a right or wrong, when all is healthy under the palm trees, coconut dropping on the head?Cracking open the coconut, cocainy coffee like clouds leave.Sniff.Brrrr bzzzzt Now I am sane again, working like a charm.

February 24, 2018

Where are the fighting monks?The samurai?The fighting this fighting that.Are they less akin to truth?Are they less truthful for they bear weapons?Lest the fool that knows not how to protect himself.

February 24, 2018

Reliving yesterday’s memories, oh what a night, where’s the bonfire?Where are those memories run off too?

February 25, 2018

To see one kernel of dust dancing in front of your eye. Weightlessly drifting through currents unseen.You moved, a door closed, you batted an eye lash.You sighed or screamed.Its getting hotter or colder.These many different reasons can all be the singular cause or the multiplicity of all or some of them together in different degrees.So it is for one kernel, for one person, for one animal and plant.For worlds, galaxies, planets and the whole drunken lot.Ever seen a planet doped out?What is a planetary drug?Moon dust, sun bursts, planetary explosions, fairy dust?How long would they hypothetically work?How often could they drug themselves?They need special canules, cigs or bottles?Cheers to you planetary farts.Raving Galaxies.Us man-kind, animal-kind and plant-kind all its little dust kernels.

February 26, 2018

What calm before the storm?Nothing is as it seems.Love, yes, but with reason and understanding.You can’t save everybody, because the only thing that happens is, it will kill you, when you try to save everybody.So, I won’t save you, when I can hardly save myself.When I can save myself, I may add 1 more, but all with reason.You gotta be able to look after yourself.Because not every seeming love is truthfully love.So I rather have you hate me, if that makes you understand your own position, deep in the mud.

February 26, 2018

What we truly have lost, is our own personal judgement, away from anyone else’s empty opinions. Just as much as your opinions are empty to everybody else.

February 26, 2018

What does a brain of an artist need, to function properly?Some sleep, imagination, dedication, insert any amount of drugs, craziness, wildness, some food, body movement as the brain is also part of a body that has its own needs, late early or midday work, a crazy breathing living world around itself to find petty gems to transform into its art.The outside nourishes an artist just as much as the inside.

February 27, 2018

Please all of you world saviours, line up.*Takes out flute, and makes a hypnotic melody appear out of nothing*
As long as there is some fun involved, I’m all in
Only the devil twirls like a charmer. he knows of all the weaknesses, and kisses them all in a twirl.
That is my life way. Kick some weaknesses wherever I can. Learn more about my own, become more individual along the way. My individuality kicker of mirrors, breaker of spells, twirler of charms. Hypnotic flutist, and angelic charmer.
The more chaotic I can make it for someone else, the better for them, seems to be in the long run
Even the devil dressed as an angel kicks orderliness in the long run
Even the best or worst of intentions don’t go the way you think
So someone who spreads chaos, but also gives you the tools to refine and understand your own individuality better than any other teacher, misleads?
There is no way, to really teach what that means, except to make every mistake yourself, because only then you truly understand what had been right or wrong in your teachings you received.Your chaos is based on so much understanding, which you slowly built up by failing time and time again.There have been people making these same thoughts and experiences before, which were aptly able to express that in the same english as you, but then again, understanding doesn’t come from knowledge. knowledge only creates lopsided people. knowledge and understanding together alone create the being you talk of, which is able to be an individual based only on one’s own truth
and these are all of them, not my words, but borrowed
be all of these words, suffering, knowledge, devils and, truth, and the whole lot.All meaningless.Compared to being able to have all of these in one sphere, life on earth, with all possibilities
The best, is to make fun of the good guys, the bad guys, and everything in between

February 28, 2018

Foreigners foreigners, foreigners, I see them everywhere.So many things, so dearly foreign to me.So many words, so dearly foreign to me.So many habits, foreign to me.So many items, clothes, art, jewellery, foreign to me.So many seemingly intrinsical parts, foreign to me.So many parts that have in the vortex of my life invested into me, bought me.I have bought so many different foreigners.I am unto you, on more alien species all of it’s own.My energy is my vibe. Until you know, it may seem very pretty, but you’d be foolish to invest in me.Do choose your poison carefully .I am and was most myself, when I was born I.E. completely naked of all adornations, that cling to me like razor blades. Your home full of stingy needles, pricking your eyes whenever you see and exclaim how pretty they are.The empty home thus is the most zen, because it is devoid of all foreign substances called decoration.GOOD and EVIL are very real, yet maybe not in the sense you usually consider them. Good is what is original to yourself and your own individuality, what you have created of your own hands, what you have grown yourself, what you have made to wear. Your own chairs and tables, your own home from ground up.Bad is whatever is outside of what is your own.Yet I still want to share my life with strangers on earth.Yet I still want to share my life with one, or over the course of my life, more partners.Yet I am happy that there are foreign people, that i can choose to meet and hang with.Yet whether and if I do so, I will have to consciously think and choose over.Whether I chose a lesser evil in my life or not.Whatever makes me thus more conscious of my own individuality, even if it should poison me by doing so, in a way flushing out many others, is good to me.Whatever stains me more, by clinging onto me, is the most direst of poison on this earth.

February 28, 2018

Being immersed,Solely squarely, thoroughly and deeply,only within myself, my ME, my own made items, my own created food, my own language, my own tears, my own anger, my own sadness, my own lust, my own desire, my own happiness, my ownThat is where the cookie crumbles.

March 3, 2018

Work for ‘The man’ or be YOUR OWN MAN?

March 5, 2018

Truth is a hands on practice, in a very human realistic way. Work and reward. From small to big.

March 7, 2018

The root, sum and cause of all problems is….

March 9, 2018

Individuality, is so abstract, that one way of being oneself can’t be copied, nor the way of describing one’s own being. It may even be that two different individuals will describe their own being, as if two aliens that can’t understand each other, were communicating, so unpalatable and undigestable are its differences. Trying to find common ground between two such individuals will only end in exhaustive trying to conform to each other.An individual just is so unique nothing can come close to being like him or her. So uncopyable is its vast mesmerising undescribable being. Unleashing this vast bomb of chaotic vulcanic expression seeds chaotic expression wherever its toes root into the earth. This freedom can’t be bought nor understood until one become’s a true individual.This freedom also can’t be given to anyone else.One individual each an island of its own, one whole universe that coexists yet can’t intermingle.Individuals can co-exist, that’s all.And as an artist, i see it as very important in my art, where any presence of outside messing is totally obliterated. To build whatever comes out of me just because it is not like anything I see around me.

March 9, 2018

I am pretty sure the cave men of long times gone have been practising Yoga daily. And surely meditation was at least a quarter of they’re daily program to keep the flock safe

March 9, 2018

Life plays out a bit like a chess game some times.Where not every move taken at the moment seems to be fully clear or fit in the chronological order.Then comes another move, also often seemingly not belonging together.One dash to the left, and you really thought it should go right, you see an overture, go in, take the knight with your small pawn, only to be left for fodder by another small pawn.On comes the queen moving about, free-est of all, diagonally and straight, taking your king for hostage.You see your opportunity, and come swooping in with your rook, this vast adamant tower, so strong in its foundation claiming the queen, before your game would have been over.The king moves only one step and yet changes the whole of history, for this seemingly small step, the rook no more.The rules are not the same anymore, and on goes the hunt for the KING.After reading this, to tell you I would not have been able to write this text out of my own knowledge yesterday, because it wasn’t there yet, one begins to wonder..

March 11, 2018

The devil loves me, but I am in love with an angel actually.Kind of twisted now, sitting here.An Angel don’t choose sides, he love them all, and the devil, well he loves Only me.At least I am loved by one.I may not embrace the white silky garments of the one I actually love, but then again maybe the red garb of the devil, velvety silky ain’t so bad after all.The devil always waits with a red rose between his lips.I have to admit I feel kind of flustered.Red cheeks, hot breath in my neck, is that love?Love?How can it be love, if the devil only loves One, Me?Is that dishonest? Honest towards whom?Does the devil pick genders? Does he take em all?Angels quite gender-less, or do they have a gender after all?The white feather comes swooping down gently, laying its first mark on the man next to me, strike’s midnight.Just as the feather is landing, its first few tufts touching the cheek, man drops dead.Was not some passing birds feather, was the feather of death.The one that weighs if you were good or bad, whether your soul’s works amounts to anything worthwhile during your life.If I had been with the Angel, that benevolent being, lover of all, might have saved this one peculiar soul, if it truly dost needed saving, if not death is the most gentle kisses of goodbye, from the creator, to witness its own play in different shapes.Ahh bugger the devil, for laying the trap, now another man must fall before the feather silky white of death, in mornglorn.This ain’t fair this ain’t just.I’ll just stay with the omnipotent Angel, he may love more than one, but at least, among these is I.Forlorn of long goners.Walking treacherous paths unseen by olden eyes.Fresh paths, not walked before by these here feet, until also my feather kisses my lips, just before blood will not colour my passionate lips anymore.In the sunglorn farther up that reddish sky, sits an old man smoking his pipe resting on a steady rock, deliciously calmly sedately, with trashing waves down below in the coasts divide.One part fluid, one part rock as hard.These both can co-exist, and yet both are also just as important.Yet fluidity must be far superior.It can flow again and again against hard surface, until first scratches appear, which widen open into underwater caves only to be ripped asunder, by the smoking man’s rings of smoke.

March 12, 2018

The world doesn’t disappear by you trampling over it, otherwise God would have smitten Elephants down a long time ago.

March 12, 2018

Oneness is no faraway concept, its just very wrongly interpreted.Among every species there has always been oneness. They all belong to one and the same species. Humans are all human. Oneness is thus being human, and no matter how wrongly you seem to be turned away, you are already one with every other human.Not that one human per say is always doing what he says, but that is another story for another day.

March 13, 2018

The man with 10 compasses will never find true North.

March 14, 2018

Ideological freedom is the best kind of freedom. It is so REAL I can almost touch it.I thus move out my hand to touch freedom, and before I know it, I actually touch something. What a marvel, I am FREE, but then I opened my eyes and realised i touched naught but the iron bars of physical reality.