Expand your mind

Am tired.
Today has been a harrowing day.

I find curiously that I am calmer and peaceful when I am in the company of the YAs. But under normal conditions I find myself racked, alternately with (base) emotions and guilt and sadness that I cannot yet overcome these emotions of anger, defensiveness and the all-pervasive ego in every emotional transaction that I make. I find it hard to not judge the people I encounter thus (a superficial mercenary, a zealot, an apathetic critic & disillusioned worker of science).

And yet I judge. (Sigh).

It was presentation day - my data was presented. It was critically examined and any hope I had of percieving the results to be different from ordinary were cruelly dashed. People, I feel, have remarkably small confidence in any other person's data.

Then it was an {observatie [here]} & {also here} that something may be remarkably different from conception. I repeated this experiment - even before I could get to the crytstal part...just having frozen down equal quantities of water...the beaker I'd labeled with a message of hate had exploded during its freeze time.

People ofcourse ran it down. Now i am not saying I support non-scientific enterprise not even on a whim, but that doesn't mean that the observation/argument has no merit. If only for its "food for thought value" - it is something.

Besides this overriding need for everything to be constrained in its normal way of intellection, I have percieved, perhaps more now than ever, a pervasive negatitivity in everyone's way of thinking. And I have to stay it reeks, just like stagnation does. Perhaps better scientists are better skeptics, or vice versa.

And yet it has been and still can be something as small as "hypothetical finding" that may impact the way we treat each other. "evolution", "gravity" were all things that were percieved either differently or never at all until someone came along to shed some light.

Now this Emoto finding lead several people I know, to conclude the worst case scenarios were it that the findings were accurate. The part about how the positive side could change the world was completely skipped over. Was barely even thought of.

It is sometimes discouraging to find the state of affairs the way they are in the gloom of helplessness upon everyone. Even the ones that find that they can think better things and make them happen, don't. I feel trapped and thence I get defensive.

However, in relation to the events of the day relating to people, like Richard sez to Don Shimoda, "If your happiness depends on whether or not people believe you, then you have a problem". I have a problem.

Writing this, I realize what it was that I was spozed to learn from this "presenting debacle" today - karma. Do without yearning the fruit of your actions. Perhaps it is indeed the case. For true Karmic principle relies on a selfless deed. I have noticed on several occasions that the times my results turn out in some peculiar way to be startlingly representative of what may really be happening, are the occassions when I have done experiments without any attachment to their results.

Then pray tell me: Can repetitive Science ever be with out atleast the hope for (the same) results?

Appendum: Apparently it can - you can repeat without wanting the same results. It is supremelypossible, if you're a true scientist. Becoz the true scientist wants only to know, he hopes for nothing.

I wonder, some/all days, why I am in Science at all. I have several ideas (and they evolve): I am sure that I want to reconcile universal thought and science. Maybe show that they are one, it seems already like we're answering the same questions but with different tools. In the end it all boils down to belief.

You CHOOSE to believe some results and eventhough the thirst for accuracy seems to eliminate belief, what we see at any given point can be an anomaly. We accept that inherent caveat and rely on them just the same to formulate a theory of how things work. Don't we do the same with our questions about Creation, etc?

Besides that, I think Science tries to answer the bigger questions with smaller observations. It's how you interpret them that makes all the difference. I am not sure I can entirely reconcile this idea though. For it is quite like trying to figure out the way the universe works based on, say, a purse. Based solely on our existence. Which, whichever way you look at it, is an arrogant supposition.

Science teaches you a lot of the same qualities that divine journies teach their students. Everything (atleast at a sub-atomic level, perhaps even higher up than that) is the same. Essentially we're all mostly space.

Everything has a peculiarity associated with it that serves some purpose but in the bigger scheme of things it serves no SINGLE purpose. It just is and will just be until it decides otherwise. The impact of anything on anything else is transient and barely reflects on the way the ENTIRE universe works or even depends on it.

One could argue it the other way. Perhaps it is just that we can not percieve the effects of our seemingly small actions in real-time. This can also be true - but in a cyclic universe will that matter? Things will continue to occur, effects will continue to generate whatever consequences they can/will and the same cycle of birth and destruction will continue on for ever.

Will it? Ask yourself that question. Will the things that aggravate, disappoint, make you hopeful, joyful and happy really have any bearing on anything else besides the relatively wee realm of your own senses and existence? If it does serve a bigger purpose, what is it? And that again maybe relative to an even higher plane of existence - which may have different laws altogether!

Old African proverb: When you pray - move your feet.

Down Outback

Sensation in the bloomin' onion:

The Wilcannia Mob:{Down River}

Abroginal Fairy tales {i am somewhat of a collector of unusual fairy tales - in all forms}: {Dust Echos}

I love the didgeridoo. Lovingly called the didje, its sound is so unique and weirdly earthy and universal at the same time. There is an energy with it. It's esp. calming when played with a piano.

{Listen to me}
& here's a {re-mixed Didj}

Anecdotal Cows and Mad Motels

AM and her little bro DM(?) just paid a little midnight visit to the place.
This is the brother that stole the guitar from under my nose that lay in the house that Jack built. Well not so much "stole" but more "snatched the very essence of yard sales" right out of my happy life...or something like that.

He's a nice guy. He looks like her and is mostly good-humoreed and funny and loves telling stories (the award for the best overuse of the conjunction 'and' goes to...bated breath...VR! {thunderous applause}). All this I got from the half-hour they were putzing around my place. It was really all just an excuse for AM to show him off. It's nice to see siblings get along as well as they do.

Much hilarity ensued when he decided to relate some of the wacko stories about his trip down from MA to...where we live (sike!).

This is the story of the motel they got directed to in strip-club city (doi) by the pimp, who saw DM in his wife beater and his Finnish goddess in the car and thought that they were lookin' for time to...yknow......lay in the house that Jack built(sike sike!). So about this love-motel they were misdirected to...shall we call it "Crabs n (J)ocks"? Cliches abounded to an absurdity. (Pubes, lubes and) Charges by the hour. And this though it sounded "off" wasn't about to tip 'em. Them of the penny-short, of the dime-less, of the nickle-unhappy, of the dollar-missing...so on and so forth. Besides, LOTS of places charge by the hour in the seedy part o' town where the love muffins come to seek their debauchery and it don't mean nothing unless there's...yknow...porn on tv or something. So, as they walked it then there was the lone pink wall in the room of mirrors (all of the other 3 walls - ceiling to floor, people!), there were the velvet curtains with big red hearts sown on (tacky lace etal), lil red fairy lights going all around the room and romanesque pillars with the lights around them and the jacuzzi chock full of...yup...pubes, the phallic-tv-remote, oh and the tv with free porn. In case someone was wondering: Channel 39. Apparently this is something of a regular way that "such stuff" is made available on tv at an hourly rate.

{He is totally over the top, just as she is. It was a laughter filled hour}.

Then "the wild cow" story bobbed its bonny head above the fence and went moo and the evening turned nearly riotous. It is one fish story that I find I must share - for lo! (ah, i do love that word - "lo!" - i could use it forever, its musical singularity mesmerizes!) - they talked of the "wild cows" of Chershire, MA and the scrappy story of how that shifty name was bestowed on the beasts.

{Good-natured fun of their parents complete with the funny talking farmly voices led into this anecdote of}...the disney-esque story of the 3 cows - "Trios Vacas" - that {ahem} JUMPED out of the back of a cow trailer (as it was moving, folks.) and 'took off' (they musta been practically racing at 2mph). Well-nigh, 'running' (cough) amok on Chershire's farm-y streets, destroying the fences, defiantly chewing the cud that was not lawfully theirs and laying their poop out in the open (gasp) - like...like...cows that be heathen!

Such insensitive brutes as them rightly deserved their terrorizing label "Le Wild Cows". {Side note: Chershire is not quaintly french. That was a writer's license.}

'parently they'd chow down in the middle of a pasture of hay that they did not belong to, no milk was shared no meat was begotten of the poor owners and then these cows dared to lay their excrements about so garishly, and also scarred the local chipmunks for life with their tree-rubbing ways, these, as everyone knows, are a rude slap on the dignified name of a true Chershire Cow.

Short story shorter...2 of the sociopaths were caught (lassoed? netted? vetted?), but the one still runs 'wild' - as they in the farmlands.

And so it happens that this infidel monstrosity found its way onto AMs farm. The parentals spotted thems poop-piles and proceeded to show DM & his Finnish goddess the true nature of the American hick. As they tracked the "wild cow" they spotted other fresh "droppings" and hoof marks made by the unrighteous beast. The cow must be around the corner. Surely.
Not.
'But the hoove marks...'
'Let it go Eloise'.

And where-ever IT wanders on their wide farms there it stays safe until one of the cow-blood hungry Uncles' spot it and growls:

"we's be having some wild cow toooonight".

Ringing Shot (things echo in the country-side).

'Moooooooooooooooooooo.'
'Thud.'

"that was a fine cow we tipped eh Billy-Jean?"........(crickets)...

........Silence of the lambs.

One that saves me...

Dear Blog,

I don't know if I can take this anymore. The world around me is starting to devolve. and people I know seem so one dimensional. maybe it is me that is one dimensional...

I feel like someone plucked me straight out of the web of lies and stuck me hovering over it...now what? I can't pass judgement...becoz it doesn't feel right.

Right/Wrong...remember that debate I had with myself? What is right? What is wrong? Is there neither/either? Well I think i have figured it out.
That which takes you further away from the truth...feels "wrong". Deviant behavior that makes no sense and sucks you further into the drama and illusion is perhaps that which we know as wrong.

Now the question only remains...what is the "Truth"? But that hardly feels like a question. It feels answered every second of life.

In how seriously people take life, and how seriously they accept their losses and wins and gains and defeats, the perception of others - though it is nothing - is everything, it is so palpable.

My personal battle these past weeks has been my (internal) struggle over W. This languishing is getting out of hand - I feel like I have some peace to make with W. Or something else, it is a peace for something, of something. It is him and I who should decide when we feel the need to make our lessons available, not the world around us. But I wander and I assume that feelings are mutual, how am i to know anything about the boy when I am barely around him?

Yet, I can't shake the feeling that some lesson evades me...and familiar feelings of jealousy and disgust are stirring in me. Giga haunts my mind when I think of W, it is a lot of history I don't know about, a large part of me doesn't care, but a part of me is dimly aware of something in their demeanor the first time ever I saw them all congregated around PCs dining table. It is the fear of the unknown about them and reconciling the ideas of him as the immaculate little boy I want him to be. It is the constant fear again that Giga is much better than me. Listening to the others talk about her, constantly, used to be just weird how it amounted to idolatry but now it's like stirring up hot embers. I am more than happy to know the person who is so impressionable on the minds of the group, but I do not feel the need to know more. I have an inkling it'll do more damage than good.

And this I cannot accept anymore without feeling strongly averted from my path. But yet I don't know if this is the result of a lack of better imagination and that is why these feeling manifest themselves in such a crude manner...or they are indeed that which I percieve them to be.

I have tried to reason with myself, but my head fills with a fine buzzy light when I do that.

~~~
I know, now, that W and I have an indelible bond. Something beyond the platform where we perform our daily circuses to completion. Something unbreakable. Something that has been and will be regardless of how we decide to shape it up here. I know not what words were spoken, or if there were any, all i know is - i feel inseparable from him.
~~~
Last weekend I had an extended conversation with Ark. A very enlightening and very entertaining conversation at that. We discussed the nature of Jnana yoga, Bhakti yoga and Karma yoga. Of these three we all feel strongly drawn to Jnana Yoga and Karma yoga, perhaps it is the destiny of this generation to bring the enlightenment to others through self-less love and service. It is sometimes incomprehensible that Ark insists on making clear the baser of emotions - it feels like semantics really. He insists that pride, ego, condesencion and the feeling that 'you must help with a goal', this whole "bringing the enlightenment to the less fortunate" business is all wrong when you have attained that state of illumination. And I feel like: but they are just words Ark! They are words we use to understand how the light spreads. They don't matter once you are at 'Bodhisattva' where all is one...you don't 'cultivate' the sense of ego-less existence, you don't cultivate anything but a spiritual evolution that grows beyond you. It becomes your way of life. The intention of the universe is made clear then and all you do is drift along.

Sometimes Ark reminds me of the kind of arguments Picture makes. They (the arguments) sound exceedingly like the (now) indoctrined codes of conduct, for eg: Once you have attained "Bodhi" - it is wrong to hold onto ego. Ha! Imagine that! Can one even be a Bodhi with ego? To each his own, I spoz. But in their favor I believe the code of conduct is faithful upto the point where you realize that the code of conduct is really the way life is when you are on the path to inner peace. There is No this and Yes that, it just is. It just becomes you. But upto the point where you spin around and question your whole destiny...up until that point - it serves us well - becoz not everyone has the inclination to learn the greater Truth.

But in his definition of Karma yoga is the remembrance that is worth him, it has been some time since I have seen anyone speak of something so divine with so much elegance and passion.

"It is the love that flows out of your hands and it just does, it flows and flows and flows and becomes you in everything until there is no other and just you and yours and the Is. And all the boundaries are lost, the pain, the suffering, the sad and the joyous are all lost and everything is light and nothing matters and you help becoz the arms they have to do something and the legs they have to do something and the heart it has only to love and to love something, everything and to love makes it one with everything."

Illusions illuminated

I had a dream last nite. It was one of exceptional nature. There was a little boy - I want to believe it was Andy. His face was so reminiscent of Andy's when he was younger. My dearest, naive but most pure-hearted brother. And he laughed and he came close and then he ran away, saying something in a voice that never got loud. I couldn't hear him or I can't remember it now, what he said . Then he said 'come with me'. And I went with him and when i turned the corner, Lo! I was in P----- and S---- was there. Smiling, laughing like the old days. There was sand and there was the newly ornate ceiling - come together in my dream. And S---- stood there, he walked about and then he laughed as Andy ran upto him and said something. S---- then walked toward me and smiled his curious universe-delving smile. He brough his hand over mine and there lay some V------. Quickly I put it in my mouth and said "More S----, More."

He laughed. He then put his hand above mine once more and once more there lay a small pile of V------. This too I put in my mouth and said "more, more." S---- started to laugh and he cuffed me lovingly around the side of head. Then Andy was like "Here, I'll give you some" - and he stretched his hand out and nothing happened at first, but B--- grabbed his hand and Lo! there were piles of V------ falling into my outstretched palms from Andy's. And more and more piled onto my hands and then the mounds started to change colors. B---'s hands were above mine too and from his hands also fell small mountains of V------. They fell and fell. And they changed colors, pink, purple, blue, green...& so on. Then all of a sudden a boy stands up from the crowd of B---'s students and runs over to me. I cannot remember his face. I cannot remember if he was tall or short. I just remember him. He ran over to me and put his hands on my head and looked at B---: "I want to give also", he said. B--- put his own hands on the boy's and all of a sudden soft mountains of V------ fell on my head and kept falling....until my alarm woke me up.

And I have wondered and wondered at what it meant. It came the night of the discussion with Ark. When I told him of my will to hug B--- and Mom telling me "No No it is not possible, just touch the feet", I felt something shift. Since it came at that critical juncture I feel compelled to think about it. It is clear to me now. There are 3 cradinal people I gain my knowledge from (for the mounds of V------ was nothing but Divine Knowledge!) and two of the people (besides B--- ) wanted to give it to me willingly but it all happens thru B---!

I know it not to be Andy, now. I know the identity of the one.
I understand the V------ better. It is something I have been aware of since time immemorial. My first instances of cognizance are associated with V------, B------, S-----, and B---. So it is only natural that it is what the medium was to show me the nature of Divine Knowledge. Something I have always known...just as different colors. Once I recognize that the truest knowledge is something I have always known...

The not so simple Life of Pi

Our book club met today. For the first time. It was rather fun.
We had loads of cheese and bread and crackers and wine and drinks and chips and salsa and desserty num nums galore.

And the banter we had...we practically talked ourselves into a meaningful discussion. Almost.

The book I felt was truly one of its kind. It was prolly a good choice for being the first in line. It elicited a good amount of discussion and among us there were those who hadn't read the book - providing the rest with the chance to relive the story(s).

Several topics that the book covers were brought up: the various religions, faith, natural progression, zoomorphism, anthromorphism and humanism. Furthermore, it was a book that showed what kind of an ideology one chooses to embrace, how much of a role faith has to play in your life - given the choice.

It was simulatenously enlightening and scary noticing the differences in the way people accept the casualties in the book.

Mostly everyone logically accepted the 'humans' story as being true. And to that end they tried to see what implication it had on the character(s).

A very realist approach to the whole situation was adopted. The animalistic characteristics of the humans were played upon - rather than agree to be part of the better story, many in the group chose to think that the book seemed to be a commentary on the tendency of humans to degenerate to the point where the distinction between animal and human becomes faint, almost unrecognizable. Delusion was attributed to the main character. The primary focus became what we can backslide into given the right motivation. So thar went the narrative. It slid from a story of utter faith to the a story of utter depravity.

Surprisingly no-one else was disturbed by that.

It is my belief that Yann Martel is a brilliantly sly writer. For he not only proposes to draw an analogy between a lot of the storylines in the first, second and third part of the book, and to the extent that he goes as far as creating a mythical author's note. So for all purposes the story is real, or as real as we want to make it. It can be a story meant for delving deeper into human psyche/nature or it can be a story proposing a simple choice in the story-telling. Whether we try to reconcile the nuances and apply them or whether we skip over them altogether, is entirely upto us - and therein lies his subtle ingenuity.

For if you choose the first: essentially you side with the humanist and believe in the inherent problems with the race for survival within us and accept them, making the second ('humans') a reasonable, more acceptable story - note: acceptable in terms of logic.

But if you choose the other - you choose to believe in the natural tendencies of animals to react to their surroundings and the triumph of a little boy over a naturally superior animal under highly unusual circumstances.

What disturbs me is that we'd rather believe in the degenerate tendencies of humans for the sake of reason than a slightly implausible story about a boy and 450lb Bengal tiger in a life-boat.
The second story is the one that requires the leap of faith. The first one is purely convenient for the lazy interpreter.

To make a choice between one fictional account and another is left to us and among us - almost all took the choice that left little to benefit from. Little to the imagination.

It increased no-one's faith in anything. It challenged no ideas, no pre-existing notions. We chose to believe in that which we already believe. The comfort of the usual with a tad bit more analysis thrown in. If anything, it reassures us of our vile tendencies and how we try to protect ourselves on a daily basis from that which is our own creation.

Thus, I felt differently from them...I felt very strongly that the story of Pi was not a story of the degenerate nature of survival tendencies - for these are fairly obvious to anyone reading the first part of the book. The natural order and yet chaotic manner of dominance of the animal kingdom (even/esp. in captivity) is constantly asserted.

To me the story spoke of only the better choice - and that this choice was left up to us - and I chose the story with the animals. For it required faith to believe in 16-year old Pi and his abilities as a trainer. It required faith to believe that the story-teller is not weaving an impossible tale of conquer over an obviously superior predator on an ocean filled with greater dangers. It required faith to believe that a tale of companionship between a Tiger and a boy is not utterly impossible. It required faith to believe that Pi came out of this unbelievably traumatic situation unscarred by it at all to believe in...nay...love God in all his forms still.

It required faith in the story originale.

I think it is utterly useless if the book were used only as a companion to the normal understanding we have of humans anyway. So what? I know that we have horrible tendencies. But to choose that over the story with the better message, the story that required active invocation of faith by the reader - that I think is truly worth thinking over.

It is quite sad what a maddeningly scientific mind can do to a well-feeling human being.

Papa Charlie and Parallel Universes

I had an enlightening discussion with Papa Charlie today. As always I enjoyed our talk immensly...we have so much in common. Prolly coz we're similar in many ways.

She and I have speculated, been borne by and passed thru the same sort of ideas and oppurtunities. Our sensibilities are so alike even though our experiences were very different.

Sometimes she brings to the conversation such a truly distilled thought that it makes the essence of a good conversation with her different from a good conversation with anyone else. And it is the former that spurs in me the will to speculate, question and ask those probitive questions that summon reason. And that makes spiritual discussion worth having.

Sometimes one has to re-learn everything. In essence our conversation was about relearning attachments.

I have often wondered after a conversation with PC, White Samurai, VicKtoria and/or Ark, that we think, therefore we don't become.

Ofcourse, among us - there are those who don't think they have the right to be "God", there are those for whom the concept is so far-removed it all sounds like another language, and then there are some who think they know and know better - but they sound hollow. Their negativity is overwhelming. It's all intellectual. There's no heart to it. It's too how-do-you-say-it ...'scientiskeptisterile'.

So how is it that knowledge by itself is not enough? Isn't knowledge the light that leads?
Or is it? Were it that Knowledge was for knowledge itself...so without perspective, without context, without better morality or truer understanding - it would stay that - fact. Sterile, unusable fact. And that is what it is. With Knowledge, understanding doesn't always follow.

That somehow, I am thinking myself into a ditch but not believing anything makes me stop short and wonder how long this process of asking and reason will go. The few times I have believed, taken the leap of faith (so to say) - the results were fairly unbelievable.
So unbelievable that of the 3 people I have told 2 seem to be rightly incredulous. As was I when it first occured to me what had happened.

Yet, I feel I must say that though it takes little to convince me this time I am loaded with skepticism. So what of it? Am I only to talk of the few adventures and not experience the rest? And if so, why? Am I afraid? Too afraid to take full responsibility - afraid that it is so immense, this understanding, that it'll evade me as soon as I try to grasp it fully? That somehow I'll fail.

But I know there is no winning and failing. For, my Donald Shimoda has made that much clear to me.

Thus, I struggle and wonder which it is that I need to do - to fully be concious of what I am here for OR reason it till there exists no doubt; to believe or to be convinced that I must believe.
Or do they follow each other in a natural progression. Such things I pondered as it came to my rescue - a book. Lying, curled, wisely, almost patiently waiting for me to pick it up again.

For now, I find what I need to continue on - 'tis the Uncarved Block. The idea that what is, is. I am only an observer. And yet I am not just an observer - I am an all-powerful observer. I am curious and I am willing to learn, to change.

And though we mustn't try and change things to suit our short-sighted needs, it shouldn't be our failing that we can.

And change shouldn't be avoided atleast not becoz it is right or wrong but becoz there isn't any need - it feels as though things inside of us are set a certain way and we follow a path that is best suited to the needs we were each deigned to meet.

To be aware that you are on that path constantly - is truly the challenge, the Fendi next to you on the bus, the promise of a promotion, vacation, family, the souring relationship etc tend to throw us off our original quests as soon as we focus on the details.

And once I tried to envision myself being this way - just being, being one and all - at once, being aware but not intelligent, things shifted. My shoulders relaxed, the world around me was all of a sudden of colors vibrant, and people around me were suddenly of interest.

Everything was harmless in a way I can not explain. Like the security of knowing..nah... of BELIEVING it all to be an illusion somehow started to sink in.

I don't think I am all the way there. Far Far from it.
I have an ego (still), shreds of resentment, some undying disbelief, capricious ambitions and will to reason still. And yet I KNOW it now that it is all in my hands. If I WANTED to I could be HAPPY! The empowerment that comes with KNOWING that it isn't a LIE - I CAN BE HAPPY if I WANT to - is something else.

No-one can tell you that and make you believe it.
Besides why would you want to believe anything anyone says unless you experience it for yourself?

People tend to say things like "happiness is a choice" when they're on the outside of a situation and it's easy for them to see how we make ourselves unhappy and yet these same people struggle to be happy - and you are forced to shrug it off. We uphold ourselves to strict regimes of right and wrong, forgeting that things in nature are neither.

Things are distasteful to us only because we've begun to consider things an insult to our senses. That the death or killing of a person becomes important. Their destituteness or their general predicament becomes something wrong. For afterall why should we suffer? What is suffering? Is it believing ourselves unaided and helpless and left to the dogs? Or is the feeling that we've been singled out for persecution? What is persecution?...and so on and so forth.
But why do they become so attractive or repulsive - these acts we carry out? Becoz the illusion is a very convincing one. The shroud of maya envelopes us so completely, that it's real purpose is lost in translation, lost in our reasoning, lost in the factual hardiness of routine, lost in the right and wrong of desires and afflictions.

And yet, what if everything was without positive or negative connotations? What if EVERYTHING - in this world - as much suffering and ruthlessness as we see, as much love and compassion we notice - was just words we thought meant something. Something good and something bad. And so somethings became good and somethings became bad. But essentially they were neither. Never were, never will be.

But to us - becoz we hold onto the "truth" we created for ourselves - thar it lies and thar it will be. the rights the wrongs, the yin and yangs; the good, the evil; the heaven, the hell; the deeds and the sins will forever become our quests - swaying us from what we know always and the whys for why we came here to learn, relearn or remember.

So I must say, slowly I see that it is unwise to reason for reasons sake alone and I hope it has started to leave me. I am trying to believe what I think. And so far it comes in bits and pieces. The belief, it comes slowly but it is forever reassuring. Thus, I troop on.

But the illusion is to serve its purpose and thus we play our daily games and go our winding ways and love the things we want to love and meet the people we meant to meet.

And so the telling of the last two nights and my struggle with the idea of forming an attachment with a boy is not entirely inappropriate. W.

So ethereal doth he seem, that it makes me wonder what potential could be reached by just being with him. Yet in my mind there are rules tho' in my heart there are none. And because you can't control whom you love...I am torn. Perhaps it is the case of a destiny that loves and lets go. Perhaps that is what I chose for myself. Then again, maybe it isn't.

So for the time-being I will be Pooh. Just be and let it happen as it happens. If it doesn't, thus it fell and there will always be 'huny' at home. If it does, so be it.

Beggars saying it may well be but since this post started with PC last nite, there were times in the conversation where, I felt (distinctly), both of us were talking about the same thing without really talking about it. And to that end - again - as it will be so it will be.

Now to come full circle - it is a conversation worth revisiting and so it shall be - for we swapped ideas and swathed ourselves in hypothetical scenarios talked about orgasmic spiritualism, Wain Wright and Richard Bach (our respective weapons) and a lot else.

In the end our destined plan chortled and settled itself in Hawaii and it became our plan to set out every 6 months around the globe doing what we can and will around the world (to serve and love) and then recuperate in Hawaii for the other 6...oh for the world of a thousand dreams and a million possibilities! For what is to stop us from doing what we are meant to do?

ab uno disce omnes

I have noticed that people seem to verbalize that which matters to them. And then I tend to look back on all the writing I have ever done, it's about nothing. Nada. Non-provocative.

And I talk to Papa Charlie (tee hee) and realize that even though it's the world's perception of her - that she is laid back and charlie toed (teehee) - she's really passionate about the stuff she really cares about.

Which brings me to the matter of - Does nothing matter to me?

I was just at Ark's blog & btw? that guy's deep.

He is incessantly analysing, using his faculties and very probitively addressing issues he may have faced. I feel - listening to him self-instruct himself, constantly trying to put things in perspective, etc that here's a guy that cares about being the person he is. Which is truly amazing.
Damn mate, you're an intense person.

And here I am la-di-dahing about nothing in general.

And it's not the good kind of nothing - it's the kind that's readily dismissable. It's not like I talk about my day, the people I met or something I liked or disliked about the world.

Which brings me back to - what is it that I ponder? Or perhaps - HOW is it that I ponder?

Everything is not so laid out that I ought to feel I really already know it. Like Papa Charlie sez sometimes "I feel as if nothing really matters". And I am hard put to disagree with her - but I understand the need to disagree with her. Becoz it is one thing to be apathetic and another to be aware and satisfied with the affairs of the world - becoz you understand them now.

Growing pains, immense pressure of the social cycle tends to distort an ordinary outlook on life, however. Apathy seems like the ill of the hour.

I think it's imperative that people have atleast one chance in their life to look at their life critically - to step away from themselves, quit feeling the victim and just see things the way they are laid out. Percieve a higher truth and perhaps have it mean something to them.
it seems to me that once this essential idea settles in that life is a game, a lesson, an activity...et al, it becomes easier and easier to deal with everyday situation, to be less impassioned about daily struggles and such.

What people like Ark show me is that the quest is far from over - you can continue to learn, imbibe and practise on a daily basis.

Perhaps a retention of so called mundane details and the messages within will help clarify what else I am here to know/learn/experience. Recalling several things that happened a few months ago is hard for me and yet i was perhaps at the height of a keen observation and now - it seems I have no recollection of the events. I seemed to have come away with knowledge at the time - but have I lost it? the question begs asking.

Something VicKtoria pointed out the other day - sometimes we gain perspective after the event has passed - hangs over my head. Like a sword. This is actually what I have believed to be true.
Becoz obviously i am passing up the oppurtunity to process my life now in the hope that the future will give me a chance to actually sit down and react to the things i have internalized.

This is assuming I have any retentive power at all.

And thence, I pledge to be more observant henceforth - for crying out loud - I'm a scientist - it's supposed to be my way of life - "observation". And as I mentioned perhaps observation isn't my cardinal problem - retention is. Thus I doubly pledge to increase my quota of observation and conciously retain the information so gathered for further analysis.

I'm even going to go ahead and set a rule: perception but not involvement is the key concept here. Don't internalize too much, ya?

Winding Roads and Blinding Lights

Recovering from a hard day's work can be quite relaxing.

Recovering from a non-laborious day of lazy speculation - even better.

All i did today was sit on my arse...and ruminate on possibilities that clouds can form shapes that are very odd indeed.

Oh and there was the small matter of trying to figure out the nature of such things and why man is ABLE to speculate on clouds, or monkeys or anything else for that matter.

Life of Pi has been on my mind.
that book was a wildcard.
And I mean I was stunned. Metaphor within metaphor within one yet.
Very Ernest Hemingway-ish. Very likeable.

This summer promises to be stupor-filled. There is the small matter of constant work.
It also promises to be full of watermelon. Num Num. I do wish that I had mangoes a plenty instead.

Have been crushing on Oasis again - thanks to W - the ungettable getty. He manages by a flick of his lovely fingers on a guitar or a table even, to invoke the deepest strands of music within me. Those that were reserved for the strands that make up the very essence of the universe - in numbers and music lies our salvation!

It's his effortless passion in music - feels like we are of the same mind. It is this powerful connection that keeps me going, no matter how the end of the affair be.