Tactical Diversions

You are what you are no need to be ashamed
The world you create as part of the game
To be right or wrong
Holds no validity
In the mind you fight
For a sense to be free
The sense of injustice
Takes justice at trial
For lack of remorse
Or sense of denial
The pros and the cons
Draw line in the sand
For a want of much more
Comes with a reprimand
So be it a wave or a particle
It matters not from either perspective
To disregard your nature
Is the only defective
Monsters birth demons
If they allow
They pollute the air
As they sell you a cow
Machines of greatness
For empires to build
As you watch it all burn
From the edge of the world
Some thing is not right
Grown slow over time
Like a cancerous lump
Or the slump of a spine
What’s really at stake
When we’re blindsided by hate
To go against our brothers and sisters
Is that not a worse fate
Than to realise the truth
In the midst of these lies
That they pass on as news
For your minds inner eye
The justice of naught
The confusion of masses
An indoctrination of children
Don’t ever skip classes
A nation of fear
United in name only
To protect the hypocrisy
Of people so phony
So deliberate
But do it with facts
Don’t be swayed by media
Who will tell you to act
They only serve themselves
That’s their only agenda
They will disregard humanity
Take care of your gender
For they have control
As they always have truly
You have to ask why
They want people unruly
It’s a magicians trick
A simple diversion of optics
To keep you in place
While they plan their entropic
So don’t hurt humanity
For the sake of the few
True world leaders who hide
Out of site of your view
They feel not your pain
Or your grief
But offer a solution to their problems
To align with your reprieve
Why not look behind the curtains
Of the media portrayed
For the beliefs you love so
Are being betrayed
What comes of it all
When we douse the fire
Of a world ignited
By greed and desire
Who’s left standing
To watch from ivory towers
As that last hand moves
In the final hours
What would you think then
As you turn to face
The evil of evils
Who has put into place
A divide of humanity
A signature of a God
As a world collapses
To a simple nod

Tree

I’ve seen a touch of God’s own hand
I’ve seen the sway of leaves on a tree
Dancing, in sunlights embrace
I know now his voice
It called to me
An extension of body rooted in ground
Taking nutrients from all around
Water to nourish and sunlight to grow
The leaves serve a purpose until they let go
But the tree remains, branches intact
So that one day, the leaves can come back
A signature hand drawn circles inside
Lets us now how long it was alive
The only way to know is to cut it down
The sunlights true mark as the earth circles ’round
But I will never forget when you called me, from the bed in a room in sight of a tree
Such beauty to see, sweet within the moment
I felt the wet brush my cheek
As I lay there Motionless
I could not keep my eyes away, as I wipe the wet from my face
From the leaves dancing true in sunlights embrace.

Passing Time

Waterfall, sunlight; the breeze touched as birds

chirp. The sky blue, serene beauty of green, softly an aeroplane sounds in a distance. Balloons floating, fill the blue of all the colours of a rainbow. Some, bigger than others. A canvas of the truest art. You whispered something then, long forgotten. A moment in a moment. A lifes true personification.

Intangible

A character of words

Triumphant to the noun

A concomitant of absurds

As they trundle through the town

Heavy heart or weighted mind

Leaves little for a life

Too many like in kind

Find their meaning inside of strife

The many notions to atone

For a path of many trails

As a pebble from a stone

Time too will avail

The concoct of intangibles

That make a person whole

The truth of our undesirables

Still a part of your own soul

So be that as it may

Be that as it may not

Be mindful of the day

For one day you will not

Ocean

what a time to be alive

Endless possibilities on demand

Catching a thought of lost time

Lost to sensation of sand

The orange glow from natures’ satellite

Pierces my soul, the one truth I can believe

Tearing up, I swallow my wallow

It is possible to let go, one can’t live in grief

The shimmering light reflects upon the coming tide

bringing a cold breeze, I took my clothes off and threw them in the water

I watched as they floated, it wasn’t long before they were saturated

I picked them up, the difference in weight was a clarity I never sought for

How many people had sought the ocean before me I wondered

who was the first to gaze and see the beauty cast out a far

what thoughts did they think, what were their fears, what were they hopeful for?

Did it happen for them, or did the tide take it away, like time for the life of a star

As the night began to draw in, I felt no rush to head back

Time is a fleeting entity, in a world where rush is all we know

I thought about life now and depression within the masses

Of opioid epidemics, distant wars and the many things that distract us

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of disillusionment

A life full of sadness that’s apparent for many, is an investors golden ticket within the pharmaceutical factory

The core of the reason gets swept under a rug, better instead to give them a drug

What makes a life worth living I asked myself. A life that’s lived happy with love and good health.

This paper chasing is just not in my heart, a life confined to wasted time makes memories of wasted dreams.

The work you do should be beneficial to you, your mind and health so don’t waste the days remaining on the shelf

I got back to the car and changed my clothes, I didn’t bother drying my hair, I wanted to feel the wind on my hair as I raced through the streets.

One thing became prominent then within my mind. Be thankful for the little things.

Peace and love as always

Myself

I’m sorry I haven’t kept my promise. The routine with which I said would keep to. My brain is scattered and at times it leaves me shattered. That is not to say I didn’t have the intentions. I just didn’t find the time. Maybe I have given myself too much a distinct project. Even though I had this whole piece to write about the subject of ‘media influence and control’. I guess it is a subject piece for another time.

I guess I will instead try to write on a more consistent basis, but without the allocated time frame and without the specifics of what I should write. It occurred to me today that I haven’t read a book in a long time. In fact I’m not sure of what the last book I read actually was. It might have been the teachings of Don Juan but it could have been something else. Reading centered me at times when I needed it. Maybe this is why my brain is scattered. I was thinking about reading the Dune series of books since the new film was really good and it got me intrigued. I’m a lover of classic literature in particular however. Some of the greatest books I’ve ever read were ‘To kill a Mockingbird’ and ‘1984’. I’m also a big fan of anything by Thomas Hardy.

I guess, as with everything else, time will tell. Besides a good book, is never time wasted.

If anybody reads this and has a suggestion of what to read, please leave a comment .

peace and love

Dream Meaning

After much deliberation of what topic to write about today, and many drafts later (they will be used for later topic pieces), it literally came to me by chance this beautiful morning. It seems that of late I’ve been dreaming a lot and the dream I had last night is still etched prominent within my mind. So, this to me makes sense for the topic piece. I will however endeavour to keep the piece short, and talk about the dream I had in the best detail I can recollect and offer an insight. The purpose of this however is not for the dream itself but the question: Do dreams mean something?

I was waiting in a queue at an Aldi supermarket , as I got to the checkout the lady asked me if I would like to buy one hundred pounds worth of euros, which I did and she promptly gave me one hundred and ten euros in exchange. ‘Well this is a new service’ I said to myself. As I was about to leave I noticed the person next in line was wanting to get their passport checked and renewed and as such I remembered I needed to renew my own. I asked a different cashier for a passport form, with which they began to fill out for me. I told the man he was not filling the form out correctly and they proceeded to get agitated with me. I then informed the person that I used to check passports myself and that I will just take the form and fill it out. As I began to fill the form out I instantly made a mistake, filling the name in as Peter. I felt strangely embarrassed by this, and therefore could not go back to the cashier I had taken the form from, so I went to the cashier at the opposite end of the store. Who was in discussion with another customer processing their passport. After waiting he proceeded to give me another form and through some exchange he handed me his communication head piece. I was talking to the manager, she seemed confused by the voice change but then became flirtatious and as I sorted my passport form out again I was offered a job.

I was then teleported to a beautiful house. It was home to the first cashier. She looked upset. She then proceeded to tell me about the place as she packed up what little things she had and we shared a drink of what seemed like water. Apparently she was fired to make way for my coming in, it seemed that each employee had to live in houses on this street. It was getting dark and we were outside as I looked up I noticed a man flying and behind this man was an apparation of collosal size, probably 1000 times the size of the man. It was cased in lighting bolts. All I could think was ‘so he does exist’.

It is from here that the dream gets stranger still. I find myself in the company of seven evangelists. Benevolence of the highest profanity apart from one character who seems out of place. They each keep singing the lord’s praise and transition to an higher plain when the phrase “Benevolence is the Lord” is ushered. The odd thing was, whenever it would be the turn of the out of place character, he would instead proclaim the word ‘McDonalds’. Which always got a chuckle out of me. Then suddenly sadness became etched upon their faces, it seemed that in a trip to the higher plains it was made apparent that this Godly figure had exploded. It was then that I woke up with the lyrics of Tupac repeating within my thoughts: ” I feel his hand on my brain, when I write rhymes, I go blind and let the Lord do his thing”. Bizarre to me, not having listened to Tupac for many many years.

I contemplated the dream for about an hour. From what I can gather. The passport to me is about the need to travel. The ‘Peter’ written instead of my name could mean Saint Peter, as the dream had a religious theme throughout. Peter being the holder of the keys to heaven. The house is just a house, people come and people go from the house, life moves on. The street signifies a togetherness in the process of an higher cause this being the supermarket. The God apparition to me signifies my aspirations. The seven evangelists I have no clue. The McDonald’s evangelist could be a read into corporations as God. The God blowing up could be my aspirations dying.

As I then delve into the subject further through the use of google. I find dream interpretations of the passport to be the need for travel. I could not find anything about God blowing up, nor the seven evangelists. The house is a representation of the soul apparently. I never went into the house, we was always on the driveway.

Sharing Water is a signal for a passage of time, self-development and spiritual enlightenment.

As for what else can be interpreted maybe that is only personal to me. I guess a dream is only a dream until it isn’t. What I mean is, maybe by delving into what is meant by the dream I gave the dream meaning and manifested it into something worth more than what it is. Or maybe it is a message from a higher plain trying to give an insight into what is needed for the soul. I guess we can never know for sure.

What are your thoughts on dream? Do they mean something?

Peace and Love

A Story of Chaos Theory

The world seemed to stop for an instance. This struck me, as did the clock when it reached the midday hour. Nothing but silence, encapsulated silence. ‘Why was this so’. Then I heard the hand of the clock ‘tick’ it broke the moment within an instant, I was brought back to reality. To the very instance that changed my mind forever.

Across from me was no-one of great importance, they were neither black or white, they were neither male or female. They fit a description that you the reader are comfortable with. who they were holds no relevance, however the story they shared was something so beautiful it changed my very essence. Nothing is what it seems, I even question that reality of the fateful day in question. It was Tuesday, midday one minute past the hour and it was so that the story was told.

Imagine. Close your eyes if it helps. Imagine, two paths, two directions, hold your index fingers out, point in opposite directions, understand the reality. Now in this concept, create a single person, split them in two and then make each one whole again. Now follow both simultaneously. The journey begins in a room, the room is plain
coloured white, the bed is broken, the tv sits alone in the corner and a picture hangs on the wall. The alarm clock strikes 8:00. Is the colour red? In this instance it is. We rise from the bed, arms outstretched, stifle a yawn and go about the day. Moving from the room
a satchel is swung and in this instance is our split, as the bag swings towards the back, the picture is knocked aloft on the wall in only one scenario. In both cases the day continues the same, as the crooked picture is ignored, it was not noticed, but it does exist.

The door to the outside opens, the light gleams, it blinds,squinting through eyes, there is another person riding a bike. Is the colour red? No, the colour is green, in both instances, their attire is it the same? For the most part, but is there a subtle difference in each scenario, could you imagine there would be? Will it be noticeable? Is it even relevant? You don’t presume so, after all it is a person on a bike and only that in each scenario. They escape around the corner. you walk to catch the train. Checking your watch it is now 8:30, you walk around the corner. What do you see? In one scenario you see only the path you usually walk, in the other the person on the bike is fixing the chain back on to the wheel
in both scenarios you walk the same path, a bird chirps in the distance but in only one scenario you notice this, where does your mind wander? You think of the person as they fix their bike, what comes to the mind? In the other scene your thoughts are pierced by the birds chirp, what does this make you feel?

You arrive at the station, nothing out of the ordinary, a person reading a newspaper sits on the bench. Is the bench green? Does it make a difference? A bench is a bench after all, but in both scenarios the bench is brown, whether it is brown through rust or paint is another question entirely, let us say it is the latter, what smell now comes to the mind? In both scenarios the train pulls in, the conductor opens the door and you get onto the train
nothing is apparently different in both situations, you find a seat with no other passenger and you sit at the window, across from you on the other side of the carriage, you notice another person, they look anxious, you notice them take their headphones from their ears, as though in anticipation of someone other. Then you notice a smile in only one of the scenarios as the person is accompanied by another person, exchanging pleasantries
you then hear that this person had some bike trouble this morning, you glance over and sure enough it was that same person fixing their chain this morning, the oil stains on the hands are clearly noticeable. In the other scenario, the person across from you sits alone in the carriage, a facial expression that seems forlorn, and lost as the train continues the journey. You notice them stick their headphones back into their ears. As the
train continues, you hear sirens wailing in the distance and notice flashing lights, outside your window, are the lights blue? In the other scenario only a conversation between two lovers, if your perception is anything to go by.

You get off the train and arrive at your place of work, it could be anything, it is irrelevant, whatever you dream to be doing, that is your chosen job, there’s nothing that happens of difference in either scenario during these working hours, maybe you have tea instead of a coffee, but no such difference can be life changing, can it? The difference comes only when you meet your friend after work. The description of this person holds no relevance, picture a friend of your own, you are however going to a concert tonight and as you check your satchel for the tickets it is only in this instance that there is a difference in your scenarios, in one case you have the tickets in the other case you don’t. Disappointment
etches on the face of your friend in one instance where as elation fills the other. Now this is not a subtle difference in scenarios, the tickets are completely sold out and there is no way of getting a couple more, so for the sake of not meandering too much and making the story too convoluted we shall from here follow one path only and from this you may derive what happened next for the other.

You search again frantically for the tickets, every thought crosses your mind for what could have happened, they are probably still on the table at home you tell yourself, either way there wouldn’t be enough time to get them now, the journey time would be too much of an hindrance. You apologise relentlessly to your friend and after a while they understand. You decide to spend the night at a pub instead and have an early night. As you get back home you check the side table but the tickets aren’t anywhere, you then check every other place but to no avail. You give up, besides it is a pointless endeavor save for peace of mind. You get to your bedroom and noticing the picture aloft you fix it right. The clock reads 23:11 and for a moment you had to check again because you could have sworn it was green. The red prominent, put your mind at ease. You put the T.V on, the news channel was playing, it was covering a story of a bombing at the concert that you was supposed to be at. What thoughts cross your mind? According to the news there weren’t any survivors. Separate explosions took out a government building and the train station. Can you grasp the severity of the situation? Are you thankful? Relieved? Devastated? Does it make a difference?

The shock of the situation weeks later has become somewhat diluted, life after all goes on. Then something hits you out of the blue, you were waiting for the bus and you notice a man reading the newspaper sitting on a bench. Was the bench brown? The bench was red, you couldn’t quite make it out, but on the front were pictures of the victims. You walked closer to get a better look, sure enough there on the the front page, was the couple that you saw on the train, there was an article regarding them as they were understood to be recent Lottery winners. Your thoughts begin to wander, where do they wander to? What happens next?

What colour was your alarm clock?
What gender was the person on the bike?
What happened to the tickets?

Peace and love as always

One more chance

Hello to whomever reads this. I guess it is time for me to be honest with myself. Something that I haven’t been doing for a long while. I feel that I have deluded myself from realisation. I have stalled progression, lost my way. Divulged in frivolity and nothing worthy of my soul. I guess we all get tempted from time to time. I’m not a religious man, but it feels like the devils work. I’ve strayed and yet I still feel a call from the ether, from the oddly otherworldly connection. The type of understanding that reveals itself in code. The strange notions of something all together real. A connection of life, intricately entwined, that maybe justifies a sense of truth or purpose. Or maybe it is just the understanding from someone who has indeed ‘lost it’.

It took a while for me to understand what I needed, the corona offering a stale bleakness at a time when life was already manifesting darkness again. “I’ve been here before” and I will be okay, I told myself repeatedly. Alas much as a dementor sucks the life from the soul, I too found myself lifeless. This time becoming more and more ever real to me, that it was going to take a lot more will power for me to get out of this funk. I am a person who has an addictive personality, I guess I got addicted to sadness. I’m still not out of it. I am aware of my situation, and I hate being this person, the worst thing is that the thing that helps me the most is writing but I hate writing about being sad ( the catch 22) I mean nobody wants to read about sadness. Even now I’m fighting internally with myself. The good news from all this is I’ve stopped the drink and I have actually stopped smoking. The bad news is this has left me more lifeless than before. I don’t miss either. I guess I’ve grown numb to that sensation.

Have you ever felt that you are not present in the world? Have you ever wandered through life thinking that you don’t belong. Have you ever found yourself in the company of people with whom you share no values, no real honesty. Have you ever thought that the reality made before you is fake? Controlled and misinformed? Do you care about privacy? Do you care about society? Are you involved? What’s the right and wrong? I don’t know. These are the murmurings that go off in my head on a daily basis. Maybe it is disassociation, maybe I’m just thinking wrong. But the thoughts are the only coherent function within my day to day, otherwise I’m not me. Otherwise I spend a day without reality.

So the point of all this is this. I decided to stop writing because I wasn’t in a ‘good place’ but the writing helps me to be in a better place. So yeah, I need this more than anything right now. I just need to be honest with myself and I really can only do that through writing.

So I am going to write and I’m going to do it with structure. Because the only way for something to work effectively, is with structure or a proposed plan of some kind. I will make this promise to myself to write a piece every Monday Wednesday and Friday at the very least. I will break this into three categories. Monday will be a poem/short story, Wednesday will be a topic piece and Friday will be my opinion piece.

So ciao and as always peace and love