brainwaves. 6.2001 to 9.2001
dovetailing defeat into a springboard for reinvention of the self
The river was exceptionally high today, and the current was faster than normal. A full day of rain can make a lot of changes along the riverbanks. Just like a disturbed mind can be cleansed and rejuvenated by a downpour of tears.
Trees, like saints, extend their limbs, reaching outward towards the Lord. Ready to catch any ray or drop of mercy that He sends from the heavens. River rocks, like self realized souls, remain unaffected by the ever-changing current...
Leaves, like jivas, aimlessly carried along by the current, not knowing where they will end up. Mirrors the life I have subjected myself to - the pursuit of temporary wealth and happiness.
In this game, where everyone participating seems to be at a constant loss.
In this game, life is moving too quick to think about where its being directed...
racing along, as the scenes change with every bend of the river, towards an endless ocean of death - the ultimate disappointment for hopes of complete fulfillment. Little leaves, chasing dreams and schemes... doing everything possible to forget about our fall from the limbs of trees that extend themselves to God. i'm sick of my soul getting chopped up, distributed to the gossip butchers... making meal for the rabid dogs who waste it like fools... i must admit defeat and renounce this silly game. Reinvention of the self to search for something real and true... to come in reunion with the Divine.
Reenter the gates of Eden
As i sit here, watching myself stare at the pages of past memories, lamenting about my deficiency to communicate the hurt behind each and every word. As i stand outside, in the world of paradox, and protest with this last bit of pride that i hold on to... and lament about my deficiency to reenter the gates of Eden... knowing well its not just words that embody "You can have my whole existence". Its through actions and thoughts as well... And the hurt remains because every thought that enters my mind changes like the wind blows... and the hurt remains because i can't just hand it over to You... and offer my most precious treasure at Your feet. Let the tears flow down my face at last. Let the words flow like these tears, that express how every split second apart from You has been the hurt behind each and every word. You can have my whole existence.
Wilted Red Roses Cover Alexander Hamiltons Tombstone
Courageous man whom once stood so boldly.
Who's strength was the guiding light of many.
In the face of a dark, cold Trenton winter.
A winter, with only a fraction of its hardship,
could leave fit men cracked to pieces.
Yet unfit men remained strong through the power of his inspiration.
who's unmatched character solidified himself a role in the never-ending drama...
of mans struggle towards attaining ultimate freedom.
A role which called for the sacrifice of precious breath.
To create a foundation that will remain unmoved...
even in the face of an infinite onslaught of Trenton winters.
Courageous man... met fate.
By playing into the hands of his own game.
Slain by twenty paces,
the wounds inflicted by the bullet of his opposition, and the politics of his mind...
replace the vibrant green of summer,
with reds, yellows, oranges, and browns.
line the streets, valleys, and hilltops.
thickly decorate the bare ground.
all around us, everywhere we go...
the aroma of dried leaves, stale air...
the once lively fruit and foliage of summer begin to turn,
and warmth falls beneath thick gray clouds,
which act as messengers of a chilly fate.
the 200 year old tree across the street
gradually bares itself from day to day,
and remains still, bracing itself...
as the crisp temperatures indicate the hardship of days yet to come.
one can taste this season with every breath.
each time autumn manifests,
reality becomes so strikingly clear...
to become like the tree
that sheds all its beauty as an offering -
preparing itself to remain unswayed
by even the strongest winds, and the coldest nights,
fixing itself firm and tall,
eagerly waiting to dance in the effulgence of the sun -
is the essence of perfection.
To rise above the duality of this world...
offer every ounce of me,
and prepare myself to accept any hardship as a boon,
will be the day that i may embrace autumn,
and once again rejoice in the magnificence of Your splendor.
fond memories of receiving the cold shoulder in snowy january
Shows how unstable the world is. Live wherever I can find a crevice. Walking home in the cold makes me think, how did I choose to come to this warehouse of miseries we call earth? Work, what good is it when all it stands for is my ultimate death. Slave away to stay enslaved... listen, read, listen some more... in hopes of forgetting the incurable disease that I've inflicted myself with. Cover it up and move it on back.
I came to the conclusion that we should do what is best for the both of us to end this misery. If I am an obstacle for you to accomplish this, I will gladly chop my hands off so that I can't type you anymore letters... I will sew my lips shut tight, so that you don't have to hear my voice ever again. Don't let me stand in the way of you entering divine time.
Sometimes, Krsna, you throw me some real curve balls... what exactly are you trying to show me by all of this? I was thrown in peril by all this. Set in the direction of confusion and now I'm looking for an explanation. I received the letter this morning like a blast of cold water from a fire hydrant. I almost cried like a two year old. Why? I dunno. It's weird, wish you were here... wish I didn't have to dream --- My day in reverse. Back to where we started... 10:11 pm
I've been crying so hard since yesterday... but no tears ran down my face. Can't concentrate on anything, just wanna reach out and talk. Maybe after all of that I can get on with facing this whole "death" deal that I signed myself up for. But talking will just tie us up in knots even more. Actually, to be honest with you (even though I know you will never see this, or know it is you that I am talking to), I think it is all fear. Fear that our taylor made lives may need to be resewn because of what we have discovered. I won't let either of us get entangled in the thread. She says one thing to my face and another in her head. I saw it with my own two eyes... plain as day. Sitting on top of the tower, while I wait for a connection. bzzzzzz... phhhsttttth... no response - like hanging on a cliff that may or may not have a saftey net at the bottom of it.... and this all makes sense, believe me... this all makes perfect sense.
Hopes and aspirations take away from the moment,
and bring with it fear and frustration.
Limits of communication paint a lovely picture from miles away.
worth a thousand words... so lets start tallking.
but expectations bring limitations... fear of fantasy,
ruin the beauty of the moment.
Is any of this beauty rooted in reality?
Is this good for you... for me?
Show me what is the good... please do.
Consecutive 3rd Degree Burns
We spent what seems like endless moments with one another.
Talking, laughing... sharing our dreams, emotions, realizations, and tears.
Sometimes I'd just like to scream out that these were the best times in my life,
but the silent hesitation in my voice screams so much more...
The untold story of how you could no longer bear the weight of angels wings.
Those same wings which you wore so proudly.
Those same wings which once decorated your back so beautifully,
and took us heights unimaginable by most.
Only to be sacrificed for an eternity of slumber in the abyss.
The story is etched deep within your eyes.
And although we now exist in separate dimensions of the same reality,
I can read the story as clear as yesterdays memories...
forcing me to question if you ever believed in anything we said,
if you still play the same game...
today's convictions become tomorrows lies.
And i stare at you from across the room,
wondering if you wonder the same things about me.
Finding the Middle Way
Walked miles on shrouded glass and lava in hopes of arriving somewhere superior to the slumbersome state of existence that once imprisoned me. Heaps of books fell in my lap, and my eyes imbibed all that the mind could handle. They told me to take that journey. Alone, I set off to discover. Men so staunch in their dedication to finding the truth. They so kindly lended me their instruction. However the dust of ancient scrolls began to choke me of life. Stale words and rituals lost their potency... they seem as lifeless and wrapped up in the hands of time as the artifacts in the local museum. Taking this journey alone is like beating a husk of corn against a wall in hopes that gold might one day fall out. A small spark of life attempting to take on a mountain of death... Some one to walk hand in hand with is all that was necessary. Learned so much on this journey, as I turned my back on the isolated search, I followed the signs... Directing me home... Now my soles worn thin. Cut and bruised, my feet drag the darkest blood all over your immaculately white carpet. Innocence lost, waged battle with evil that lurks within, and now I've come full circle... discovered the middle way. Meaning and love lies deep within the relationships that I have with all that fill my life... The blood sweat and tears shed on this path has taught me the value of this... Wounds of the past, from the isolated state to the stains on your carpet, stand as a reminder of the ignorant being I once was... bandage my feet, I'll bandage yours, and we can walk together again.
I am going to ny on wednesday
Question of a doubting mind burns holes right through me. While I watch virtue seep through the crevices. Should I be making up scenarios in my head that may end up being so far from reality? Dreaming up my greatest fears of being crushed on the inside, yet again. Is it all worth it to put what is true in my heart on the line? I attempt to stand on a trust crippled by the lies of the past, knowing well that if I don't, then I may never even find out if this may be healed... This speculation which I torment myself with is hellish, please reassure me with your words, so that I may stand once again, and not fear someone stabbing me in the back.
Star Struck Eyes
Condescending words construct a monument of ashes.
White lie built upon white lie.
Speak softly... sell the desecration you call "art" to the masses.
Just like flies... they are conditioned to a steady diet of shit.
With star struck eyes, blinded by the flashing light of fame.
Screened from seeing the image of the modern hero is nothing more than paper mache.
Yesterday I wandered all around town.
Wherever my mind took me.
Tripped over a bridge...
and noone was there to catch me.
Fell onto a bed of nails....
and noone was there to catch me.
Now, like chinese water, torture me with dripping tears.
I taste them through open wounds.
Whisper something in my ear. Please make sure it's true this time. I'm sick of all the lying. crying.
Dark images flow from all around like torrents of rain on cloudy grey passovers.
Doors marked with the blood of the innocent.
Uphold ritual for the sake of an illusory vanity.
Increase the taste for lust with each bite.
Swallow the poison of our times.
Degrade and sink our teeth into the lies.
These actions conjure up memories of an ancient warning.
Moment after moment the prophecy fulfilled.
Convinced ourselves of our point of view...
cold. callous. empty...
Embracing nothingness has threatened our existence.
And I thank you for choking me to death with that piercing glare.
After all, it amounts to nothing.
So thank you for killing my desire to partake in this charade and let it crash to the floor.
I may now walk among the living.
I struggle on...
Indifference of nature causes unsurity.
She knows no impositions of good or evil.
As each of us is slowly processed from birth,
maintenance, old age, until the final moment of annihilation.
We watch our bodily form decompose, existence slip away,
and grasp onto objects which melt in our hands.
Leaving nothing but open wounds deep within.
A search for truth and purpose is shattered by this agony just like a stone to a sheet of glass.
But sure is death, and that fire burns so deep.
My eyes see a temporal world wrapped in lies, hate, deception, depression.
My mind whispers comments of giving up... giving in.
My heart screams. Do not rest until we overcome this foolish game.
Do not rot.
Knowing perfectly well that those who have indulged in the calling of their mind have ended in utter failure, I am left with no option other than to take up the quest laid before me... so i struggle on...
A long embrace...
I wish this moment lasts forever. The experience I won't trade for anything in the world. Everything awkward about the situation seems to fall by the wayside and my focus becomes you. It is so sweet, and in separation, I die looking forward to that long embrace once again... If it is not manifested in the moment, at least let me remember it, be reminded of it... to know that someone else out there cares, this embrace... it is warmer than the hottest day that I have ever experienced. Did i mention that I won't trade it for anything in the world? And that is all I can think about on the way home...
When Crushed Steel Haunts You Like a Poltergeist
Faster than the speed of mind, down a windy trodden road. Velocity of cold steel meets wood pole and shatters sculptured face. Smash to pieces, not the physical... the mind. And at the end of the road, where the brakes failed, sits crushed steel, and the mind hit a brick wall. forced to surrender to gravity once again, knees hit floor. Dry whimpers burn like a clay oven, as I pick up these pieces and cry out... remove me from this fire.
Screaming at a Wall
Your once solid foundation has crumbled in the face of a doubting soul.
Determination worn thin, and now you've finally given in.
As my foundation remains unshaken granting me the ability to evolve, you fall deeper into the abyss of that illusion which you once despised.
If I had a tape recorder of all the claims of righteousness that you once made, it would be plain as day that you have changed, as I remain firm.
Now there is a new facade that you constructed to live in, as the old one burns to ashes.
And to point out this instability to you would do no good.
I'd be better off screaming at a wall.
And until you realize that your vain desires will fade away like last nights dreams, only to leave you in the depths of suffocation, crying out for a lifeline, these words will do better if they were screamed at a wall.