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Showing posts from 2008

why does a muted heart sound so familiar?

is it all because of time spent that I can now sit down and recite to you stories, events, pieces. it seems too easy, too simple to be just that. Oh I know, it because it isn't , just THAT. Lets be honest , there are some grand moments in life. Love, SEX!, lust, my puppies eyes, my kitties cuddles, rain, grass, storms, leaves, peace, harmony, music, sound, touch, sight, inside, out, and well, here they are all at once. Tim Leary wasn't just a nut, or working for the gov or both for that matter, he touched a void in himself and then within others, right through to a generation. One of those that worked for a different state, some wrong and confused, others hurt and abused, but loved throughout the experience (sought) found life, mind becoming one. Its softness is not hard to imagine, its beauty is not without reach, freedom eludes us all, each and every turn we burn, softness, kindness lives within my soul. I don't want to let the time escape, grinning as my

if only the hotrod stopped here

It may seem poetic, prophetic perhaps I love the way it cripples me its always the same as it penetrates too far to be able to feel itches so much it starts to hurt but so good, scratching only the mind and without body, one starts to feel enjoying only a beyond, a gone and a never to be magenta itch you only feel to believe but crippled clinging to feelings of a body its only done for yourself its funny how reality always comes harder, how it forces you into being massive amounts of remorse and.... so of just being!!?? so its only in us all to just let go, but we don't know when feels right?? forever afraid to fall, ever just happy to let being, by, live, smile and feel. So we cling. To negatives that are not so then but are as a cumulative just needing to be accepted hurts more than torture itself save for all the smoke

as naked as this life

one so few and surely so many time behind a veil only to show itself in perhaps our weakest moments its only a start that i look for in life, I'm always happy to be coming along for the journey but i do wonder where it, i, you started. what do you feel is the beginning ?? have we seen it perhaps. there are many out there within us that feel they have become what is the beginning , and i enjoy their stories, their tales (tails : ) perhaps though still discontented to imagine that i too should not be able to see it you feel it as the itch that sits nowhere and cannot be scratched, you feel it as you see the moon rise over the sun, you hear it when a baby cries and when tears fall, but are we allowed to experience i t perhaps?? suppose that it has gone or was not even for us to know at all? so what then of those that profess, confess and dissolve into our hearts. i believe that we all should, but not always could be allowed, to experience divinity in our lives. now divinity i

my meditation

i don't enjoy this tone but feel that (led by the soft hand of scotch, yes on a Monday ) it is necessary . when you are walking through your street, in a metropolis or not, and you see a gentle soul that stands in your path. you know that this person will be asking you for money, for a donation. they are not a beggar though you feel the need to perhaps treat them with such required indignity. they are not a nameless face as they wear their charity (and heart) on their sleeve. but still, you walk by. this i do not detest. we all live lives that are complex and beautiful at the same time, not always able to co- exist in the present as the future or perhaps the past is seeking to keep a hold on our thoughts. interruption . so we see this person standing before us, in the street, in YOUR path and what do i see most of you doing?? it's like thay have a painted ring of roses on their door, like as a leper you can see their body parts falling from them, limbs dropping from their

an invisible man

take me, make me your under and i will be able to push you past what you feel is capable of your true being. i sat and i too went beyond for reasons that were to my own interest yet in such, though i was able to push past and show that life outside of life is what it isn't, believe it is i won much a mess is escaped and i but hard...but it is.

fear in and loathing of bris vegas

i don't know where to start, unsure what fuels my need to be open and expressive about the dire feelings and thoughts that currently run within and throughout my mind. i have the sense to try to quell all the lost energies that pass by, holding tight to the notion that a past, present and future me will be able to read this information successfully and too be able to process each thought had, rationalise it and then (dreaming?) expand upon the blank canvas that is the then. but i don't know if (it) i will. will i see myself in time from now, or even in time from now and be able to justify the great dwelling and confusion that i presently feel? now, don't get me wrong at all, this is not put in place to sadden perhaps even annoy any one, this is simply the thought process escaping through the fingers you see. so i feel dread. this dread is not my own lost or confused thoughts but actual dread. perhaps bought on by years of substance abuse (no longer the case) pe

with all my love granddad

my granddad passed away this morning. i feel sadness for my mum as he was her dad. they were not always the closest pair but it was undoubtedly a love between them that grows from father and daughter. i remember playing soccer with my granddad in the backyard with my brother. he played 'football' in England as he was growing up and it was a connection that us as kids were able to share with him. he taught me one trick with the ball that i won't forget, handy on the field he was. i remember granddad's smile, he had it inside of him and when he showed it it was a pleasure to see. i remember ' Ossie ' wearing a silly bon - bon hat every Christmas and chewing down his food with his one good tooth. i was treated to a story of when Ossie was in India with the English army and how after a game of football, army vs locals, they had all headed inside, beginning on dusk, for a drink and granddad noticed what looked like a ball still sitting out in the mi

green means walk fcukr

so I'm standing waiting, writing a text with all the capabilities and speed of a geriatric old man who has to use toes as fingers, when the little green crossing man shines gaily at me and i start to cross. a quick survey of the traffic to my right and all is well, back to the epileptic fit that was my finger typing, (now having gained momentum as the lactic acid has lubricated the old joints) when all of a sudden, right in front of my toes a BMW flies past aggressively beeping its horn at me. I quickly look up with a sudden shock feeling of dread that my lack of attention has led me onto a busy road without any due care, but no, there he is, the little green man. the next split second i am yelling down at the boot of the BMW as it races past with no hesitation. now the idiot in the car, whom i would have to assume was a man; a) driving well at speed, b)driving bad at speed, has been completely oblivious to any sign that i was allowed to cross, simply looking at me as another r

about time

and so this is the introduction that i present of myself unto the world..and too a world that is blog. with old age and a lack of young nuance toward what truly this encounter may offer, i shall only be brief in this introduction..to who? my name is Stephen. i travel by Steve and often wonder why? is it a show of inherent laziness perhaps? or is it a show that i do truly deny the facets of who i really am.. as you meet me now i am entering another journey period of my life, no not this world of blog (though it will be used as a medium) another page of my life is being turned and read. i can remember one such familiar time but as i call myself Steve i too am no doubt denying more aspects, even known to others, of my progression. so with this forum i choose to share some of me with you. i do not profess to gain any awareness of others but to simply unburden my mind of empty trivial thoughts.. so share with me this journey, be it long and slow or as brief as a breeze passing, sto