Hi

I honestly don’t know how romance fits into a non-egoistic life. Because why did I choose to dote more “love” onto my lover instead of someone else? There was something unique about her? I don’t understand. I thought love is always unconditional.

It’s to say, I don’t love her because of, or despite of. I love her simply because. It must transcend the big brown eyes that I see. The same eyes the day we met. To look into her eyes is to look at her. She’s a soul. In fact she is not a she. Not a name, race, age, sex, class, etc.

For if I don’t see myself or God in everyone and everything that I encounter. Then I am not realizing myself. I will be disjointed. Fully ensconced in the body, which is to say the ego.

It is my wish for all to experience the transcending experience of oneness. The dissolution of ego. Through meditation. Through psychedelics. Or whatever.

We need not have regrets. Life isn’t short. Life is forever. Don’t rush.

Honestly, life is constant filtering of the world’s message. But I remember this; I thank the world for it, because then I know even more so if I believe what I believe.

HD 1042.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your mother had the answer all along; love

Simple and yet so powerful; we are looking for love. The unconditional love. I love you no matter what. To understand that we are one.

God is love, love is God.

To love yourself is to love others.

And if lady truth comes by, don’t deny her. Let her sleep in your bed. Feed her. Bathe her.

 

—

In many lifetimes, I have loved you.

 

Je suis optimiste

Pourquoi ? J’ai un travail que me permettre  être libre. Pas mon principal travail. Non non non. L’objectif que je poursuit depuis il y a quatre ans.

Je dois être optimiste. Ne seulement pas pour mon bonheur. Mais aussi ma sécurité.m

Le temps passe très rapide. Dans le vent, sur le mer. Dommage. J’ai vingt-six ans. Bien sûr, je ne me sens pas un adolescent. Mon expérience dans la vie est très différent que j’avais seize ans. Hehe. Dix ans a passé rapide.

 

C’est mon premier entre journal en français. J’espère quelqu’un qui lire, aussi apprécier l’ effort de moi.

 

Merci beaucoup. A bientôt.

2016 ananaB treV

just the other day, my grandchild asked me what the day was like. We were hysterical in ’99.  Burning crafts of metal falling from the sky. What did we do, when we saw a stranger?They were people who found  one more friend. We carried pieces of trees on our backs from building to building, ass to class. Just read a few pages, maybe we swallowed the hamburger whole in class. Maybe, we didn’t know what side was up. I don’t know. My memory has faded.

she knows, I have long told all. Her, she knows. Sand on a beach, stars in the sky. I written it down along time ago. I don’t remember all the faces, but my heart still beats to it all the same.

so, apparently I’m still that man in the photo.  I still see the tattoo my mother gave me at birth.  You see, I never got to see pop as an old man. Maybe, its a graceful swan song to be seen but still be heard. What year is it?

qui connait? You wanna tell me strawberry and the lady with the white ice cream cone are good too. The Nazis, they knew of smokes. Thank God. Heroes for the other side.

but I encouraged my 4 year old daughter to ask me every question her mind can conjure. Some I won’t answer. sognaM. Some I can’t answer. I know she’ll be smarter than me. Already smarter than I was at 6.

i wonder…

factory, why would a child say such a horrific word as his first. He isn’t another statistic forgotten from another planet, right? All through your, can you imagine living in black and white, maybe some generous shade of gray in between? Some day, you hear him yell “I’m new to this world!”

i don’t see it now. Even today, I fade between sunshine and sunset. I don’t know what day it is. I just know I have to work. Night shift. Got to make that hole in the ground prettier, right? Ha, life turns on a dime.  5102

maybe, next time I write. I write something. My hands are black. zephyr

 

 

Horse before carriage

Expose:

Nashville – Fall ’16

Australia > Vietnam > Japan – Winter ’17

France > Germany > England – Summer ’17

 

HD

Perhaps, an extension of my journal. Maybe, copy-and-paste? I don’t know how frequently I will be posting on this Blog. I have an ambition. It’s not exactly a clandestine project. I wish it wasn’t the spine of my everyday consciousness. But it is. It thrills, it kills me. I become wholly aware of every neuron in my brain, the temperature rising, maybe my heart will implode. It’s being turned inside out. A man creates his own motivation, thanks for providing it. It’s a test of intellect, will, courage and ultimately my job.

Where have I deviate? When I was in grade 1, I didn’t spoke little to no English despite being in Canada for 3 years by then. Autumn of ’97, my teacher also taught me in summer school. Under her tutelage, I grew from an underachiever to an overachiever. 69×5=345 From grade 3 on, I was complacent. I practiced truancy in high school, showed up for exam and pass it with good marks. Befuddling some of my teachers.I never discovered my intellect until I left College. So whatever they say, I learned in books. If you’re reading a book, I must know what you’re reading.

Most of the females; I don’t know them personally. I can’t remember of all their faces. Their names, I don’t know. I’m not alone in saying this. There has been a lot of them, without me even saying a word. Zero. I don’t know why, man. You can laugh, Goliath. I’m not exactly an asshole, I’m just better at other things.

Yesterday, I was roaming around the cemetery, searching for my dad’s grave. You know something? The ones who die young…..

Do I have regrets in my life? I don’t have to answer that question. This isn’t VHS. I will say this, I have to be my past, present and future every single day. If you don’t know what I am talking about; you will soon.

Not that I’m young, but this status quo. It’s a tent. Not a house. There is no destination, there is only a a journey.

 

(….Gonna need to buy some clothes now)