Around 60 years ago from the heights of a stage, above some unconditional believers, a young preacher would say some words. Now it wasn't that long of a preach, no the preacher made a short speech. But even so those few words that, the preacher said on that heated April night, would go down forever in the scriptures of history. He stood there and yet in front of some amazed spectators he was unlike himself, he shivered and his nerves consumed him.
He stood on top of that mountain, and said that he had seen the promised land there, that he had heard the voice of the almighty himself. He said that the voice of the almighty called upon us to follow him to the top of the tall mountain, through the white blistering snows, through the rocky path until the green grasses of the valley of the promised land. The preacher shook and quivered, it was as if god had took control of his spirit and through him, through the young preacher from Georgia he had pronounced his final message. At the end of the speech the preacher collapsed, fell into his chair as if his mission was accomplished, and it actually was for the next morning God opened the gates of heaven to receive him.
Since that hated April night back in the year of 1968, not a lot has changed frankly at least for the better in my point of view. For you see at least in the times of the preacher people had hope, people believed that a new day was to come. And today in this superficial society we have forgotten the values that made that young preacher walk, that made that young preacher speak out, and fight for what he believed in. It's as if today we had gave up in some sorts the fight, at least the real fight. We think that our little personal fights are important and we let those little fights take over. We watch from our ivory towers, through out tainted glasses and in our grandiose cars the fire surrounding us. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
Everything around us crumbles and yet I stand here and watch. The day the preacher died, thousands went to the streets, thousands with fire had the idea to bring down the system, they burnt, they brunt, only to awake up surrounded by the ashes of their fire, not knowing why they had set the fire in the first place. They awoke and forgot why they were fighting, why they had fought and all went back to normal. Yes throughout years the preacher had died in vain, all had the memory of him none really did know what to with that memory. And so years went by and those that had once walked with the preacher forgot too, they still walked, but not knowing why. And all fell, and fell, into the sea.
Clouds of greed, and of selfishness had covered the mountain top, for us to see it no more. So we where born and lived thinking that all was perfectly normal, we lived our lives thinking about seconds, minutes and hours. Those that remember that great ideal, those that could still see the shine of the mountain top in their heads, tried to hide behind their material possessions , their big cars and houses, their money. And all falls, and all falls, into the sea.
We stood here and watched our prophets die.
So today in these dark times, times of despair in the winter of our hardship. Let us remember the wise words of once upon a time a young preacher who called upon a generation to leave their place of comfort and pleasure, and give in all of their material love trade it for truth. He said that instead of material riches what we needed was truth, instead of good intentions, he asked "give me justice" and rather then inflexible walls and tinted mirrors give me love. For some the call that resonated from the top of the marshes of Washington is completely and entirely bound to death. Many do not catch the universal grasp of the image that the young preacher left behind, for many he is but a leader of his people, a leader limited to his situation and captive of circumstances. For some believe that the young preacher's message was and is more important to some of us then the rest of us, they be wrong. Yes the preacher was a black man, but his message had no colour, and we must not enslave his message. Today we do have a black man at the head of the preacher's fatherland, that even accomplished does not make his message moribund.
For today, the long winding road that leads to the promised land is still shaded by the shadows of doubt. Yes things have changed since the preacher gave his final speech from which years separate us. We keep our looks focused on the big lights that now shine on a once dark conner, we are amazed and we stall in front of these shining lights. But as one little conner of the scene grabs our attention the vast darkness that is the rest of the scene escapes our view.
That young preacher is my hero, I believe that his voice lives on, and in his voice lives the voices of so many others, for what I mean is that what that young preacher tried to do during his stay on earth was to continue the work of so many that sacrificed their destiny and blood to accomplish. The names of those are many, some known, some not. The eternal fight between reason and fanaticism, between truth and lust, on goes. The valley shall descend, only when man wins that fight, the inner fight that defines mankind, the fight between the greater man and the inner beast. And today it looks like more then ever, we must hear and follow the call of the young preacher, we might not slay the beast in one, two, five or maybe even ten generations, but when we do the flowing black water torrent that poisons our fertile land shall dry-up.
We must slay the inner beast. Do you hear the bell toll?
Sky
Tuesday 10 November 2009
Saturday 3 October 2009
Kier
This post is dedicated to my brother Kieran...
Hey Kid it's been a long time, days pass, nights too, and yet I can not the distinguish light from dark. It's been a long away down this twisty road since the last time we saw each other. Hasn't it now? Sometimes at night I stay awake and just think how this situation is just so wrong, and how hate can just destroy paradises from the inside out. I guess it was just destiny or something like that right? or was it?
Deep down it just feels so wrong, right down in my heart I just can't fix this leak, and I just have to get this dirt off my shoulders, I have to get this off my conscience.So just sit back kid and watch what's going down.
Remember that one night, it was some time ago, up in the north. Remember when we sat and watched the great show, the northern lights. If you don't, I do remember this. I remember that throughout that harsh winter, the coldest winter I went through, the winter of our hardship. I guess that, that winter was just some sort of a metaphor right? It was just the start, the start of a long lonely track, a track throughout which our road divided in two. It was like we where walking on the same road, but even so we didn't see each other, or if we saw each other's hardship we watched in vain. Like the time we watch our dog die and yet we could do nothing to stop his pain, we just watched and finally, he got the easy way out.
Sometimes I wish I'd have a needle, to put an end to this everlasting winter. I guess it just ain't that easy!
I do remember those nights in Sioux Lookout, when we would stay up and wonder if tomorrow anything would change.I remember those grey skies, and how sometimes we would just fade away because living in reality was just not worth it. Was it? It's been a long time since then, and people say we aren't the same, that we are different now, and bro I don't believe in that B.S. A long time has passed since then kid, a long time but for sure we aren't that different, we aren't aliens as they say, and even if there's been some bumps on the way here, one thing is for sure we never looked back. Did we?
I remember the time we where bitten by the frost of the burning snow, by the red of the winter. I remember you where the one that helped me back up, not mom or dad, not any friend or any other person, you. During this period of my life, I look back often on that cold winter, I look back on the time we stayed at the reserve, I guess that it was the period that made us who we are today.
But the problem is that, its images still haunt me like I've got ghosts flowing over my head and some times they even inhabit my mind. I probably believe that its now more then ever that I have to look back upon my past, and try to understand why I am, the way I am. But somewhere down the road, somewhere on this path I screwed up bad, somewhere I left you, I let you down, didn't I?
I guess that why sometimes you get so cool on me, I guess that's why sometimes you don't believe I'm your brother anymore. And man how the hell, do you want me to say, that you've got it all wrong? What brother would rather try to capture grace, instead of giving a hand to his own brother? But I guess thats just the essence of live, I guess I'm just some sort of pawn, that life uses, and abuses of.
But that would be too easy, to say that my actions are controlled by someone other then myself, by some supernatural force, that utopia is the refuge of the weak, and I can't be weak in your eyes!
I guess all started when we left Picton, on that sunny June day, remember how for once in our lives we where happy in Picton, and then like everything that was nice in our lives, it floated away like a cool breeze right? Remember how once we believe, we belonged somewhere and then we took away, and we had to start all over again. Remember how those trips from the great north to the south where long, remember? But never where they as long as the trip that started, the day the winter started in Sioux Lookout. I guess that winter started and it still has to end. That's why many times, when I have a good situation in front of me, around me, I just fuck up everything. I guess, I just can't stand the cold.
Since the time, I last saw you, I've last been with you as your equal, as your brother, the day that car pulled out of the driveway, a lot of things have happened. But even that has been like a mirage, nothing has been real, because the only thing in my life I had, that was real, was you, and I guess I just wasn't fit to have it. Never did, and probably I will never have, a friendship so true, and so pure as the one we had. And no its not just because your my brother. I guess that through the tangles of this tricky winter I did learn somethings. I learned that finally there will never be peace, that probably we will never find peace, on this earth, in our living.
Probably we will never see each other the same way again, will we? But I guess that if this message has a mission, it is that one, to bring peace once again in this family, sometimes I wonder where are were the people we need? When we need them the most. Where are they when we need them? They're never there are they? I guess your asking yourself exactly the same question about me aren't you now brother, tell the truth. The fact is that I'm writing here the notion that I believe in the most, but also the notion I betrayed. At least if I write it down here it will not inhabit my thoughts anymore. The fact is that I believed in you, probably more then I believed in myself, this of course I told you already. Now when I left, I felt that somehow I was becoming the monster that lived in my closet through my childhood, the reason why I kept my light on at night. But this time there was no light for you.
I guess that I want, you to know all of this because, life can be fast, and I don't want to go into the soil of earth, without having said, these things. Brother, just know that even if I'm not there next to you, even if I'm not there throughout your hardship, if I'm not there to protect you, even if I'm not there to be your armour, I'm still here. And listen do not rejoice every time you hear my voice, because the day will come, when no walls or barriers will be between us, the day will come when they will fall, crumble at our feet, and no more will stupid shit, keep us apart. One day we will find peace somehow, somewhere we will find it, and if they don't want peace we will impose peace once and for all on this broken family, and we will fix the holes of this broken house. And Kier if everything around you falls, and everyone you ever believed in gives up on you. Remember if your world crumbles at your feet, you will find refuge beside me, I will be there. I know that in the past I haven't be that brother, I wasn't the brother you needed. But now that brother is here, and we will put an end to that winter that started in the snows of the northern woods.
I remember one night we looked up, to the sky. One night we looked up to the sky, and we saw the northern lights, even though the cold of the winter surrounded us, all we felt was heat.
Sky
Hey Kid it's been a long time, days pass, nights too, and yet I can not the distinguish light from dark. It's been a long away down this twisty road since the last time we saw each other. Hasn't it now? Sometimes at night I stay awake and just think how this situation is just so wrong, and how hate can just destroy paradises from the inside out. I guess it was just destiny or something like that right? or was it?
Deep down it just feels so wrong, right down in my heart I just can't fix this leak, and I just have to get this dirt off my shoulders, I have to get this off my conscience.So just sit back kid and watch what's going down.
Remember that one night, it was some time ago, up in the north. Remember when we sat and watched the great show, the northern lights. If you don't, I do remember this. I remember that throughout that harsh winter, the coldest winter I went through, the winter of our hardship. I guess that, that winter was just some sort of a metaphor right? It was just the start, the start of a long lonely track, a track throughout which our road divided in two. It was like we where walking on the same road, but even so we didn't see each other, or if we saw each other's hardship we watched in vain. Like the time we watch our dog die and yet we could do nothing to stop his pain, we just watched and finally, he got the easy way out.
Sometimes I wish I'd have a needle, to put an end to this everlasting winter. I guess it just ain't that easy!
I do remember those nights in Sioux Lookout, when we would stay up and wonder if tomorrow anything would change.I remember those grey skies, and how sometimes we would just fade away because living in reality was just not worth it. Was it? It's been a long time since then, and people say we aren't the same, that we are different now, and bro I don't believe in that B.S. A long time has passed since then kid, a long time but for sure we aren't that different, we aren't aliens as they say, and even if there's been some bumps on the way here, one thing is for sure we never looked back. Did we?
I remember the time we where bitten by the frost of the burning snow, by the red of the winter. I remember you where the one that helped me back up, not mom or dad, not any friend or any other person, you. During this period of my life, I look back often on that cold winter, I look back on the time we stayed at the reserve, I guess that it was the period that made us who we are today.
But the problem is that, its images still haunt me like I've got ghosts flowing over my head and some times they even inhabit my mind. I probably believe that its now more then ever that I have to look back upon my past, and try to understand why I am, the way I am. But somewhere down the road, somewhere on this path I screwed up bad, somewhere I left you, I let you down, didn't I?
I guess that why sometimes you get so cool on me, I guess that's why sometimes you don't believe I'm your brother anymore. And man how the hell, do you want me to say, that you've got it all wrong? What brother would rather try to capture grace, instead of giving a hand to his own brother? But I guess thats just the essence of live, I guess I'm just some sort of pawn, that life uses, and abuses of.
But that would be too easy, to say that my actions are controlled by someone other then myself, by some supernatural force, that utopia is the refuge of the weak, and I can't be weak in your eyes!
I guess all started when we left Picton, on that sunny June day, remember how for once in our lives we where happy in Picton, and then like everything that was nice in our lives, it floated away like a cool breeze right? Remember how once we believe, we belonged somewhere and then we took away, and we had to start all over again. Remember how those trips from the great north to the south where long, remember? But never where they as long as the trip that started, the day the winter started in Sioux Lookout. I guess that winter started and it still has to end. That's why many times, when I have a good situation in front of me, around me, I just fuck up everything. I guess, I just can't stand the cold.
Since the time, I last saw you, I've last been with you as your equal, as your brother, the day that car pulled out of the driveway, a lot of things have happened. But even that has been like a mirage, nothing has been real, because the only thing in my life I had, that was real, was you, and I guess I just wasn't fit to have it. Never did, and probably I will never have, a friendship so true, and so pure as the one we had. And no its not just because your my brother. I guess that through the tangles of this tricky winter I did learn somethings. I learned that finally there will never be peace, that probably we will never find peace, on this earth, in our living.
Probably we will never see each other the same way again, will we? But I guess that if this message has a mission, it is that one, to bring peace once again in this family, sometimes I wonder where are were the people we need? When we need them the most. Where are they when we need them? They're never there are they? I guess your asking yourself exactly the same question about me aren't you now brother, tell the truth. The fact is that I'm writing here the notion that I believe in the most, but also the notion I betrayed. At least if I write it down here it will not inhabit my thoughts anymore. The fact is that I believed in you, probably more then I believed in myself, this of course I told you already. Now when I left, I felt that somehow I was becoming the monster that lived in my closet through my childhood, the reason why I kept my light on at night. But this time there was no light for you.
I guess that I want, you to know all of this because, life can be fast, and I don't want to go into the soil of earth, without having said, these things. Brother, just know that even if I'm not there next to you, even if I'm not there throughout your hardship, if I'm not there to protect you, even if I'm not there to be your armour, I'm still here. And listen do not rejoice every time you hear my voice, because the day will come, when no walls or barriers will be between us, the day will come when they will fall, crumble at our feet, and no more will stupid shit, keep us apart. One day we will find peace somehow, somewhere we will find it, and if they don't want peace we will impose peace once and for all on this broken family, and we will fix the holes of this broken house. And Kier if everything around you falls, and everyone you ever believed in gives up on you. Remember if your world crumbles at your feet, you will find refuge beside me, I will be there. I know that in the past I haven't be that brother, I wasn't the brother you needed. But now that brother is here, and we will put an end to that winter that started in the snows of the northern woods.
I remember one night we looked up, to the sky. One night we looked up to the sky, and we saw the northern lights, even though the cold of the winter surrounded us, all we felt was heat.
Sky
Thursday 1 October 2009
Build stuff and nuke it
Books, television, music, painting, drawing, building, cars, politics, sports: a man's got to do what a man's got to do. To turn this damn section of our brain into something constructive. Even better if you throw destruction somewhere in the equation. Because if there's two things a man likes, it's construction and destruction.
Oh how sorrowful it is that we are eternally tied to the tentacles of occupation. Men thrive to reach higher levels of whatever all in the goal to not be left without anything. More so, men seek to be never left alone with their own thoughts.
For what unpleasurable things men will find when they are confronted to the depths of their minds. Eternally running away from or what they can't understand, because incomprehension inevitably breeds frustration and hatred. Men drown their misery in alcohol, bury their shame in great works and jump into cars to run away from what they do not comprehend.
There lies dormant within each of us the silky threads of the spider. In eternal darkness the threads bind, wind and un-wind, forever and ever and ever, and these are mechanisms men fear so much. These same threads are held together by the very subtle balance of what composes a man's mind.
No one wants to truly be aware of this subtle balance we all try to keep up with our grandiose illusions, forever hoping the thread doesn't snap under the weight of some inconvenient truth. Consciousness is thereby punishing, as we are aware of every step we take down the ladder, every move we make through the jungle and those great jumps into the insanity that is our hidden mind.
Clouds and fairytales; some sort of pillar of life that we grab on and from which we kick all those who look behind.
We are animals and we are gods. We stand on this thin line: fall over and you're an animal. Try to fall over the other side and you'll get a wall in your face. And when those who spent their lives looking after some final illusion find none, they split in two: one side falls over and turns into an animal, the other jumps over the wall.
I'm sorry that I'm always such a pessimist, but all this fucking constant anxiety is getting me down.
Red
Oh how sorrowful it is that we are eternally tied to the tentacles of occupation. Men thrive to reach higher levels of whatever all in the goal to not be left without anything. More so, men seek to be never left alone with their own thoughts.
For what unpleasurable things men will find when they are confronted to the depths of their minds. Eternally running away from or what they can't understand, because incomprehension inevitably breeds frustration and hatred. Men drown their misery in alcohol, bury their shame in great works and jump into cars to run away from what they do not comprehend.
There lies dormant within each of us the silky threads of the spider. In eternal darkness the threads bind, wind and un-wind, forever and ever and ever, and these are mechanisms men fear so much. These same threads are held together by the very subtle balance of what composes a man's mind.
No one wants to truly be aware of this subtle balance we all try to keep up with our grandiose illusions, forever hoping the thread doesn't snap under the weight of some inconvenient truth. Consciousness is thereby punishing, as we are aware of every step we take down the ladder, every move we make through the jungle and those great jumps into the insanity that is our hidden mind.
Clouds and fairytales; some sort of pillar of life that we grab on and from which we kick all those who look behind.
We are animals and we are gods. We stand on this thin line: fall over and you're an animal. Try to fall over the other side and you'll get a wall in your face. And when those who spent their lives looking after some final illusion find none, they split in two: one side falls over and turns into an animal, the other jumps over the wall.
I'm sorry that I'm always such a pessimist, but all this fucking constant anxiety is getting me down.
Red
Changes
Well, I guess I always get back to this point. I try and escape and run away from all of this. I guess that it just comes back stronger every single time. I try just to live my life, not to think too much; I guess that just the way we live. And yet all these ideas just pop right back up and take control of my head, and I just can't do anything.
Somewhere on my path, I lost myself, and since then I just can't find my way home. I think I know where my home is, but I just can't find it. I walk, probably like the majority of us, on a strange road. I don't know where it leads, I just keep on walking. And I tell you now, this road is frustrating me, and I'm sick of it.
At some point in ones life, we all get to a crossroad, we all get to the end of a road, of a path and we start to question the path and all the things that lay on it, all the decisions we made on that path. I guess the time is upon me to change roads and to change my old ways. That's probably the big problem of this world; that we always talk as a community about change, and how things are so wrong and yet we do nothing to change our ways. Yes it's true, change must first come from the inside, from ourselves. But the question I have today that is slowly killing my mind, taking control of my spirit, is change. Has change ever been more than some words on a blog, or part of a speech? You really want to know what I think? I think that change has never really been more than an assumption, that with words the world will change, and that with time all will change.
That's why tonight I say bye bye, thanks but no thanks to that assumption. No, nothing has changed. Some of it is human nature, that's probably true; maybe it just is human nature. I think it's something that yes, it sure is part of human nature, the fact that words are lighter than acts, and the fact that human beings just don't have the motivation, or just maybe because motivation like everything in this world fades away, with time.
For too long, I've been too sure, for too long I had the idea, that inside my life there was only me. For too long I was an egoist, not thinking about tomorrow, thinking about the present, and not realizing that maybe there was something more to all of this. Sometimes I have flashbacks. Yeah , I knew real people that wanted to change the world, like Mike; well now, Mike's dead, gone forever, his body washed away by the deep darkness of reality. I remember being told that MLK talked about the promised land and never got there because of two bullets and a gun. I know Jesus changed the world in some, but our sins crucified him, and our sins will crucify the Jesus to come and all the other men who bring change. I know my sins crucified them, do you?
Look over there, do you see that woman, that old lady, living out of bags? And there, do you see those poor men, drinking, trying to forget that when they get home they will have no way of feeding their family? Yeah look over there, that poor thing is a woman, society made her go crazy, inside her lays a baby, just another kid that will never get to be the man he wants to be. Once, a man told me "if you put your head to it you can be anything you want to be". Bullshit; I'm frank all this here isn't anything you'll find in a Newsweek tribune or in Times magazine, all this here you'll never find in a politician's speech. But that's the way it is... isn't it, that's just the way it is.
Well I'm sick of that way, I'm sick of not being capable of changing my damn ways. I'm sick of not being there for you brother. And when I say brother, I mean many things. It's time for society to notice, that we're all in this together. I was born in Canada, you in Portugal, maybe you in France, in China, Holland, India etc... anywhere, everywhere, the thing is the place you were born is just random. I could have been born in Somalia, or maybe in Afghanistan, it's just pure chance to have been born here in a place like this one. The walls we put up in between us are invisible, they don't really exist, they're part of our imagination, they're just there to protect us because we're scared of our differences. No this isn't anything like the stuff you'll find on CNN or in Newsweek is it? And yet we know that all of this is true, all these things happen to be facts. We know that all of these things are facts, and we stand here, wait and watch, as day after day stuff just gets more screwed up. 130 dead in Africa this week, racism rising in America. For if there is a thing I understood lately, it's probably that our happiness may not lay in the fate of others, but one thing is sure my fate is linked to yours, be you in Africa or in Asia. I don't even know and still your acts affect me, and my acts affect you, and we have an obligation to one another. All the prophets say that we are all brothers, equal under the glimpse of God above. I might not have much in common with you, but I do have one thing, my future.
And yet I stand here, and I write, and yet the world still churns on wrongly. People still die of curable diseases, people still die because of those invisible walls and of those made up differences. And yet we know the facts, we talk about change. The problem is that we talk about it but we don't reallu trust it, we don't really believe in it. Sometimes I wake up in the morning, and the day never comes, it just stays dark: lights out people. Yeah, that's why I'm getting the hell off this road... and this change is dedicated to three people, to my two brothers (Kieran and Theo: no matter how far you are away from me tonight I hope that through the words of this message the kilometres shall disappear) and the 3rd one I have yet to find. I'll get to that one some day.
And yet I see no changes. I guess it's up to us to make the changes and words reality; I guess we can't ask anything from any one, we've got to flip these to heaven by ourselves. Yeah people, my fight starts here, and until the day I die I promise that I'll never give up this fight. First I'm going to fight myself and open my eyes.
Somewhere on my path, I lost myself, and since then I just can't find my way home. I think I know where my home is, but I just can't find it. I walk, probably like the majority of us, on a strange road. I don't know where it leads, I just keep on walking. And I tell you now, this road is frustrating me, and I'm sick of it.
At some point in ones life, we all get to a crossroad, we all get to the end of a road, of a path and we start to question the path and all the things that lay on it, all the decisions we made on that path. I guess the time is upon me to change roads and to change my old ways. That's probably the big problem of this world; that we always talk as a community about change, and how things are so wrong and yet we do nothing to change our ways. Yes it's true, change must first come from the inside, from ourselves. But the question I have today that is slowly killing my mind, taking control of my spirit, is change. Has change ever been more than some words on a blog, or part of a speech? You really want to know what I think? I think that change has never really been more than an assumption, that with words the world will change, and that with time all will change.
That's why tonight I say bye bye, thanks but no thanks to that assumption. No, nothing has changed. Some of it is human nature, that's probably true; maybe it just is human nature. I think it's something that yes, it sure is part of human nature, the fact that words are lighter than acts, and the fact that human beings just don't have the motivation, or just maybe because motivation like everything in this world fades away, with time.
For too long, I've been too sure, for too long I had the idea, that inside my life there was only me. For too long I was an egoist, not thinking about tomorrow, thinking about the present, and not realizing that maybe there was something more to all of this. Sometimes I have flashbacks. Yeah , I knew real people that wanted to change the world, like Mike; well now, Mike's dead, gone forever, his body washed away by the deep darkness of reality. I remember being told that MLK talked about the promised land and never got there because of two bullets and a gun. I know Jesus changed the world in some, but our sins crucified him, and our sins will crucify the Jesus to come and all the other men who bring change. I know my sins crucified them, do you?
During all of history, people rised, called for change, believed. Yet no matter how much praise we have for them, there is one reality, the reality of failure that describes them all. Yeah Woodstock. Yeah the 1960's. Yeah Marx, and yeah, Malcolm X. Oh and poor Müntzer, the one who believed that a kingdom of heaven on earth was about to come; nothing is about to come.
Look over there, do you see that woman, that old lady, living out of bags? And there, do you see those poor men, drinking, trying to forget that when they get home they will have no way of feeding their family? Yeah look over there, that poor thing is a woman, society made her go crazy, inside her lays a baby, just another kid that will never get to be the man he wants to be. Once, a man told me "if you put your head to it you can be anything you want to be". Bullshit; I'm frank all this here isn't anything you'll find in a Newsweek tribune or in Times magazine, all this here you'll never find in a politician's speech. But that's the way it is... isn't it, that's just the way it is.
Well I'm sick of that way, I'm sick of not being capable of changing my damn ways. I'm sick of not being there for you brother. And when I say brother, I mean many things. It's time for society to notice, that we're all in this together. I was born in Canada, you in Portugal, maybe you in France, in China, Holland, India etc... anywhere, everywhere, the thing is the place you were born is just random. I could have been born in Somalia, or maybe in Afghanistan, it's just pure chance to have been born here in a place like this one. The walls we put up in between us are invisible, they don't really exist, they're part of our imagination, they're just there to protect us because we're scared of our differences. No this isn't anything like the stuff you'll find on CNN or in Newsweek is it? And yet we know that all of this is true, all these things happen to be facts. We know that all of these things are facts, and we stand here, wait and watch, as day after day stuff just gets more screwed up. 130 dead in Africa this week, racism rising in America. For if there is a thing I understood lately, it's probably that our happiness may not lay in the fate of others, but one thing is sure my fate is linked to yours, be you in Africa or in Asia. I don't even know and still your acts affect me, and my acts affect you, and we have an obligation to one another. All the prophets say that we are all brothers, equal under the glimpse of God above. I might not have much in common with you, but I do have one thing, my future.
And yet I stand here, and I write, and yet the world still churns on wrongly. People still die of curable diseases, people still die because of those invisible walls and of those made up differences. And yet we know the facts, we talk about change. The problem is that we talk about it but we don't reallu trust it, we don't really believe in it. Sometimes I wake up in the morning, and the day never comes, it just stays dark: lights out people. Yeah, that's why I'm getting the hell off this road... and this change is dedicated to three people, to my two brothers (Kieran and Theo: no matter how far you are away from me tonight I hope that through the words of this message the kilometres shall disappear) and the 3rd one I have yet to find. I'll get to that one some day.
And yet I see no changes. I guess it's up to us to make the changes and words reality; I guess we can't ask anything from any one, we've got to flip these to heaven by ourselves. Yeah people, my fight starts here, and until the day I die I promise that I'll never give up this fight. First I'm going to fight myself and open my eyes.
In the morning, the cold smoothly rises; I get up and do my stuff. I walk down my street, head to the train, you know I'm Canadian I guess my genes have let me down (messing around, of course): I get really cold in the morning. And every morning I get to the station. There on a bench lays an old man about 50. Each and every morning, I pass him by and think "who knows, one day, that could be me". Most people might think the same thing when they pass him by, but they just pretend that he doesn't exist... That's the problem, that's society's problem, we just pass by stuff, the problems of others because we've got money, so why would we care ? Well no, for my liberty lays in your liberty, our liberty lays in a more general liberty of all. My happiness lays with yours, and our happiness lives only with global happiness. For the problem of some men in this place is a problem for all. The riots in far away lands of Guinea; yes, that's my problem. The genocide in Darfour; yes, that's my problem.
Here's your international moment of zen
Sky
Tuesday 7 July 2009
Left alone in your mind
It's a quiet place, here on the edge of the universe. A place of tranquility and peace away from the turmoil of everyday life. Now, there are no colliding thoughts and emotions, just a certain sense of understanding.
I threw days away in the vague hope of getting nearer to better moments, never thinking that the present could bear equal fruit. There was no peak and no bottom, just the constant flow of trivial affairs.
Is it this easy to accept fate? Can I open up my arms to bring in defeat, just like that? Maybe there will be harder days ahead. Maybe there won't. Maybe defeat is the hardest part of it all and all that is before me now is a flow of bright and hopeful days. Until then.
Until that day. But everything seems so clear now. Maybe I won't have to face that last moment of lucidity. Maybe it's time to give names to that which is ineffable, give them names so that we can be forever and that they may be frozen into eternity.
And now I'm warm all over, back from the palour of rigidity. But what remains is a wake up call back to another reality. The mornings are tough. A few comfortable moments in that half-light before you realise that it's still there.
The twitching, the jerks, the aches, the tension and that nausea, that sense of hopelessness, of eternal isolation. That noise of depression that just can't be ignored.
Now I can't think, can't see, can't hear, can't feel nor exist without that surge of unfamiliar emotions, those inexistant memories, those echoes of a distant world that is clearly not mine. Here I am, a stone in this infinity of rock, yet an isolated alien in this crowd of people.
Tremors bring me back to something that is obviously not eternal but, never the less, is a pain to endure. Some thoughts aren't mine. It seems imagination has now become some incarnation of nemesis set to punish me for my foolish adventures into the realm of unconsciousness. And of course, those delusions. Short lived but truly disturbing. Half awake from intense dreams.
A healthy body for a healthy mind, or vice-versa, I'm not in the state right now to remember correctly. Either way, missing vital parts of your system isn't something that you can easily ignore.
Hence these long weeks (soon to be months?) and this page of lamentation.
I threw days away in the vague hope of getting nearer to better moments, never thinking that the present could bear equal fruit. There was no peak and no bottom, just the constant flow of trivial affairs.
Is it this easy to accept fate? Can I open up my arms to bring in defeat, just like that? Maybe there will be harder days ahead. Maybe there won't. Maybe defeat is the hardest part of it all and all that is before me now is a flow of bright and hopeful days. Until then.
Until that day. But everything seems so clear now. Maybe I won't have to face that last moment of lucidity. Maybe it's time to give names to that which is ineffable, give them names so that we can be forever and that they may be frozen into eternity.
And now I'm warm all over, back from the palour of rigidity. But what remains is a wake up call back to another reality. The mornings are tough. A few comfortable moments in that half-light before you realise that it's still there.
The twitching, the jerks, the aches, the tension and that nausea, that sense of hopelessness, of eternal isolation. That noise of depression that just can't be ignored.
Now I can't think, can't see, can't hear, can't feel nor exist without that surge of unfamiliar emotions, those inexistant memories, those echoes of a distant world that is clearly not mine. Here I am, a stone in this infinity of rock, yet an isolated alien in this crowd of people.
Tremors bring me back to something that is obviously not eternal but, never the less, is a pain to endure. Some thoughts aren't mine. It seems imagination has now become some incarnation of nemesis set to punish me for my foolish adventures into the realm of unconsciousness. And of course, those delusions. Short lived but truly disturbing. Half awake from intense dreams.
A healthy body for a healthy mind, or vice-versa, I'm not in the state right now to remember correctly. Either way, missing vital parts of your system isn't something that you can easily ignore.
Hence these long weeks (soon to be months?) and this page of lamentation.
There's nothing left in me but this vicious cycle of vile thoughts and a deepening sense of despair. But I know how depression works, and it only lasts for as long as you're convinced you're depressed.
Here and now, people, here and now.
Red
Monday 4 May 2009
Already there
These past few weeks have been full of revelations on things that trouble a lot of you.
These days, with a world marching ever so quickly to cut its roots off, it is hard to find some sort of sense to ones life. There are those who turn to religion for solace and others who dwell in the miasma of nihilism. I guess when you've given all that freedom of choice to your people you've finally ripped the boundaries off the meaning of life, and so many of us wander aimlessly, looking for some kind of reason.
I was lost in a sea of confusion, wild eyed at these new things floating past me and these things oozing around. I couldn't make sense of my thoughts nor of my speech. I was living some sort of self inflicted schizophrenia. I was fearing for my sanity, wishing for some sort of return to normality for the time limit had long been passed.
Why did I do this to myself? I came close to a world so different to ours, where the unconscious mind paints the canvas of vision while the conscious one tries to make sense of all these things flung at it. So many great revelations flying at the speed of light through my mind, jumbled up with pure nonsense, chairs, feelings, bananas, cartoons, music, space, breaking out of the doors that were only supposed to be opened while sleeping.
Everytime I do it the world makes a little more sense yet a little less sense. I'm sure I was looking for something that would get me away from this world, this world in which I couldn't find much meaning. I tried to obtain that spiritual revelation that so many had told me about.
And so 16 hours later I am still dumbfounded, slightly handicapped, feeling that my head was decapitated but no pain comes, just no link between my head and my body. I was exasperated, on the verge of tears, tears that begged for the one thing I was trying to escape; solid, boring reality. Boring weekends where my idea of fun is making myself crazy.
Suddenly I understood the whole point of it. I was not ready to let go of this sweet reality. I wasn't truly part of those people who had no refuge in reality. This wasn't for me, or at least I couldn't stand it for that long. It wasn't a holiday, it was a waking dream, but dreams are sometimes strange, and you always wake up to barely remembering them. This one made me sick, made me crazy, made me beg for sanity.
In a great rush of hope and awe I saw the greatness of reality and the complexity of the mind, something we shouldn't dwell on too long for it shall never be fully understood. If we were given hands, eyes, noses, mouths and consciousness, it was for a reason, it was to feel this world as it is. The world is a beautiful thing, but some don't have the chance to realise this.
It's up to us to make sense of our own reality. It can be the work of Gods or the work we go to everyday. We should be able to fully enjoy it, for there is so much to give and take in this lifetime.
And I'm going to try something else.
Red
Sunday 12 April 2009
The New World
Today, finally after a long time of absence, after a long time of being lost in the bitter confusion that is this modern life... These last days have been an eye opener for me, the space of time we are living in, probably one of the most important in these last decades. At least since the fall of the wall... Unlike any other post I have done before, in this one I want to try to find a solution, for I can't live like tgus anymore ... Unlike any words I have written before, I want to find a new path, because this path we have walked on for so long, for almost one hundred scores, has come to a hard and brutal end. To understand where we stand today, I must, we must, our generation must understand where we stood, in those years of 1988, 1989, 1990, 91, and 92, because throughout those years unlike any period before, people thought that change was coming, that maybe, just maybe for the better. People thought that with the end of the Cold War, finally the world would be united under one cover of peace. We must understand how people believed back then, that the winds of change where blowing, and that with the force of hurricane would make the old walls of division tumble. We must understand the believe of a generation of human beings, to understand the world we where born into and the opportunity that now lies in front of us, son of the actual crisis.
It was the 7th of June at around 6 o'clock , the year was 1992. Yes I came into this world on that day, in that magical period of time. For sometime in my life I was proud about being born the 7th, because 7 was that magical number, but today I have finally found that it was more the period that was magical, more then a mere number.
On that day I'm sure that many looked up to the sky in pain, and in disgrace. But I have the tendency to the believe the contrary, that on, that day more people around the world looked up toward the sky, with a little bit more hope, I have the belief that, that day some probably more then usual looked up to the sky with a belief, the belief that the world was finally going to change, and that they we're witnessing that change. It was a magical period, really it must of been, after almost 50 years of deadlock "cold war", finally we where seeing the impossible, the once upon a time dream, that was never supposed to come true, become a reality. For the first time in years the whole world seemed united, by a simple handshake. It was there, coming out of every corner, out of every path leaked the belief that a new world was to come.
The sources of that belief was the fall of the communist curtain, and the opening up of all of the old communist countries. One after another the communist regimes fell, and even the great USSR was about to fall. Many times, had men believed that the cold war would end, and yet so many men had died before seeing their prophecy accomplished. Many had believed that one day the wall would fall, but no one believed that it would come so peacefully. I would have loved to be there that day, the day, the wall fell, to see the faces of those people, that had lived in sorrow and desperation for so long, those same faces that not so long ago had believed that, that day they had dreamed of for so long, would simply never come. And yet that day, the day the wall fell the world shifted, the world changed.
And when we, this generation, us the echo-boomers, came into this world at a moment of immense, of enormous hope, a period of history during witch so many believed that the new world was coming. And yet it didn't...
Hope was all over in those first years of the last decade of the 20th century, it was probably unlike anything before, unlike the unrest, unlike the belief that the world had to change, during the 60's, at the start of the 90's there was a similar belief, but the belief was different, the belief wasn't that the world could change, but that the world was changing. In the early 90's people had this belief, that finally after so many fights for change, the world was changing, but it was changing by itself, without the intervention of anything, the world was changing, as if a new rotation had began. I'm sure that on that day, on the 7th of June 1992, we could feel the heat, the heat of a new beginning, of a reborn hope, the heat of a new summer. And that summer did not die out when that show started to fall, on the plains, on the lakes, on the coasts, for the heat of the flame, lived on... Even through the dark cold times of war and genocide that occurred in the middle of the 90's the faith still marched on, a faith that whispered, that dawn was coming, that we could already see the rays of dawn.
And dawn came on the 1st of January 2000, dawn came. I was eight years old at the time and I feel sorry now to not of had cherished the historical moment with full knowledge of what was happening, I was living a moment that, we where living a moment that only a few humans would get to live every 1000 years. I guess that all over the world that day a new wind of hope filed our air. And yet that day past by, they didn't catch that outstanding opportunity that was there in front of them. Months passed, and an election was stolen, the millennium had changed, men stayed the same. And then came that horrid day, the day that made the world doubt, and the world doubted since then. As a result of that doubt two wars where born, nations where broken, lives torn, and yet we where in the 21st century, in the 3rd millennium, and yet....
The clouds, dark clouds came down I guess... And as a young teen, looking back on the glory of the past years I thought, that some how history had came to an end, that somehow everything had came to brutal halt, that we, humanity had fallen into a dark hole that sucked the hope out of us. And so years passed, and yet nothing seemed to have changed...
Years passed, here we stand at exactly the same place in time, a time in which great walls of brick are falling where great walls of brick are being smashed down to the ground, walls that once seemed unbreakable, walls that once seemed would stand between us forever.
In the space of so few years so much has changed it's shocking, in 2001 towers fell, in 2003 a lie made a war, that forever would wound the world. And in 2005 it seemed as if the new millennium would be a millennium of violence and of terror, in which scare would rule. But some how looking at it now, things couldn't have gone a differently, because as an immediate result of this madness people from all over the world, proved that radicalism and fanaticism are not the paths to prosperity. Things turned around just like in the 1990's, instead of the fall of communism we had the fall of "Bushism " the fall of politics that preferred to negotiation, action and violent action, it was also the fall "Talibanism" because since the start of "the war on terror" the Muslim world had seen that actually radical thinkers like the heads of Al-Qaeda are not the solution they are part of the problem they are not bringing peace to theirs homes more so they are bringing death and desolation to every doorstep of the middle east.
From this vintage point looking back on this last decade, one thing is for sure, we have came so far. In 2001 the world was polarized between the axis of evil and what was supposed to b e the free world, but today we are at a real turning point in history.
When the Berlin wall came down, we all know that with it crumbled the communist ideal that had been corrupted by the weight of reality and the weight of men. But let's try to go back to the roots of communism, for the roots of communism there are many they lay at the heart of every great revolutionary thought. They are founded in the teachings of Jesus, and they are founded in Thomas Müntzer's sermon to the princes, they are the ideal that motivated so many puritans and pilgrims to brave the sea and the storms to build with their two own hands a new world. For the roots of every human ideal are the same, for the majority of humans want to build that kingdom of heaven on earth as Thomas Müntzer said.
When the Berlin wall came down that ideal was not washed away, that objective did not fade away, the thing that for a moment seemed to be fading a away was fear, was terror. We all said that when the Berlin wall came down, communism fell. False communism never existed. All ideals are written on paper and most of them never become more then that, and when they do it's in the majority of cases bad.
Today we are at a turning point in world history once again, for finally we do not live in a polarized world, we live in a globalized world in which more then ever now, nations of the third world have their voice. When the Berlin wall fell many people said that we where in a unpolarized world because with the fall of the USSR the USA where the only true superpower, that was true for a time, but a another result of the war on terror, the United States gave up its place as uncontested super power, and other powers emerged, countries like China and India, Venezuela and Brazil, South Africa and the European Union made their voice noticed. And this is a good thing because the world little by little is giving in and is becoming a more "multifaced" world. This diversity is a recent thing looking back to the start of glottalization in the 18th century the European powers ruled the world instill the second half of 20th century and from then on of course it was the the USA and the USSR and the third world had no place, no real weight. But today it seems as if all the world is becoming the third world, a world that doesn't fallow the communist or capitalist ideal, but a third way, a middle way.
Today we have an opportunity, in the years to come I believe that are generation will have that opportunity for the world is remodeling itself at a rapid pace, a new world is being created in front of our eyes, as the result of the defeat of radical capitalism and of the theories of the school of Chicago, as the result of the joint defeat of "Bushism" and "Talibanism", the defeat of the so called war on terror policies, as the result of the election of Barack Obama.
Today we stand for sure at a turning point in history for the theories of the past century have been sent to the grave. We live in a period of immense hope, because we know that day by day we are creating a "new world".
The time has come to let these things aside, the polarized world and the fights of the past, and try to create a new world, a better world, a cleaner world, a more human world. For the possibility lays within our hands it is up to us to not make the same mistakes as in the 1990's.
Sky
This was to serious and too long probably but what the ****
here's your moment of zen after a long period of absence.....
It was the 7th of June at around 6 o'clock , the year was 1992. Yes I came into this world on that day, in that magical period of time. For sometime in my life I was proud about being born the 7th, because 7 was that magical number, but today I have finally found that it was more the period that was magical, more then a mere number.
On that day I'm sure that many looked up to the sky in pain, and in disgrace. But I have the tendency to the believe the contrary, that on, that day more people around the world looked up toward the sky, with a little bit more hope, I have the belief that, that day some probably more then usual looked up to the sky with a belief, the belief that the world was finally going to change, and that they we're witnessing that change. It was a magical period, really it must of been, after almost 50 years of deadlock "cold war", finally we where seeing the impossible, the once upon a time dream, that was never supposed to come true, become a reality. For the first time in years the whole world seemed united, by a simple handshake. It was there, coming out of every corner, out of every path leaked the belief that a new world was to come.
The sources of that belief was the fall of the communist curtain, and the opening up of all of the old communist countries. One after another the communist regimes fell, and even the great USSR was about to fall. Many times, had men believed that the cold war would end, and yet so many men had died before seeing their prophecy accomplished. Many had believed that one day the wall would fall, but no one believed that it would come so peacefully. I would have loved to be there that day, the day, the wall fell, to see the faces of those people, that had lived in sorrow and desperation for so long, those same faces that not so long ago had believed that, that day they had dreamed of for so long, would simply never come. And yet that day, the day the wall fell the world shifted, the world changed.
And when we, this generation, us the echo-boomers, came into this world at a moment of immense, of enormous hope, a period of history during witch so many believed that the new world was coming. And yet it didn't...
Hope was all over in those first years of the last decade of the 20th century, it was probably unlike anything before, unlike the unrest, unlike the belief that the world had to change, during the 60's, at the start of the 90's there was a similar belief, but the belief was different, the belief wasn't that the world could change, but that the world was changing. In the early 90's people had this belief, that finally after so many fights for change, the world was changing, but it was changing by itself, without the intervention of anything, the world was changing, as if a new rotation had began. I'm sure that on that day, on the 7th of June 1992, we could feel the heat, the heat of a new beginning, of a reborn hope, the heat of a new summer. And that summer did not die out when that show started to fall, on the plains, on the lakes, on the coasts, for the heat of the flame, lived on... Even through the dark cold times of war and genocide that occurred in the middle of the 90's the faith still marched on, a faith that whispered, that dawn was coming, that we could already see the rays of dawn.
And dawn came on the 1st of January 2000, dawn came. I was eight years old at the time and I feel sorry now to not of had cherished the historical moment with full knowledge of what was happening, I was living a moment that, we where living a moment that only a few humans would get to live every 1000 years. I guess that all over the world that day a new wind of hope filed our air. And yet that day past by, they didn't catch that outstanding opportunity that was there in front of them. Months passed, and an election was stolen, the millennium had changed, men stayed the same. And then came that horrid day, the day that made the world doubt, and the world doubted since then. As a result of that doubt two wars where born, nations where broken, lives torn, and yet we where in the 21st century, in the 3rd millennium, and yet....
The clouds, dark clouds came down I guess... And as a young teen, looking back on the glory of the past years I thought, that some how history had came to an end, that somehow everything had came to brutal halt, that we, humanity had fallen into a dark hole that sucked the hope out of us. And so years passed, and yet nothing seemed to have changed...
Years passed, here we stand at exactly the same place in time, a time in which great walls of brick are falling where great walls of brick are being smashed down to the ground, walls that once seemed unbreakable, walls that once seemed would stand between us forever.
In the space of so few years so much has changed it's shocking, in 2001 towers fell, in 2003 a lie made a war, that forever would wound the world. And in 2005 it seemed as if the new millennium would be a millennium of violence and of terror, in which scare would rule. But some how looking at it now, things couldn't have gone a differently, because as an immediate result of this madness people from all over the world, proved that radicalism and fanaticism are not the paths to prosperity. Things turned around just like in the 1990's, instead of the fall of communism we had the fall of "Bushism " the fall of politics that preferred to negotiation, action and violent action, it was also the fall "Talibanism" because since the start of "the war on terror" the Muslim world had seen that actually radical thinkers like the heads of Al-Qaeda are not the solution they are part of the problem they are not bringing peace to theirs homes more so they are bringing death and desolation to every doorstep of the middle east.
From this vintage point looking back on this last decade, one thing is for sure, we have came so far. In 2001 the world was polarized between the axis of evil and what was supposed to b e the free world, but today we are at a real turning point in history.
When the Berlin wall came down, we all know that with it crumbled the communist ideal that had been corrupted by the weight of reality and the weight of men. But let's try to go back to the roots of communism, for the roots of communism there are many they lay at the heart of every great revolutionary thought. They are founded in the teachings of Jesus, and they are founded in Thomas Müntzer's sermon to the princes, they are the ideal that motivated so many puritans and pilgrims to brave the sea and the storms to build with their two own hands a new world. For the roots of every human ideal are the same, for the majority of humans want to build that kingdom of heaven on earth as Thomas Müntzer said.
When the Berlin wall came down that ideal was not washed away, that objective did not fade away, the thing that for a moment seemed to be fading a away was fear, was terror. We all said that when the Berlin wall came down, communism fell. False communism never existed. All ideals are written on paper and most of them never become more then that, and when they do it's in the majority of cases bad.
Today we are at a turning point in world history once again, for finally we do not live in a polarized world, we live in a globalized world in which more then ever now, nations of the third world have their voice. When the Berlin wall fell many people said that we where in a unpolarized world because with the fall of the USSR the USA where the only true superpower, that was true for a time, but a another result of the war on terror, the United States gave up its place as uncontested super power, and other powers emerged, countries like China and India, Venezuela and Brazil, South Africa and the European Union made their voice noticed. And this is a good thing because the world little by little is giving in and is becoming a more "multifaced" world. This diversity is a recent thing looking back to the start of glottalization in the 18th century the European powers ruled the world instill the second half of 20th century and from then on of course it was the the USA and the USSR and the third world had no place, no real weight. But today it seems as if all the world is becoming the third world, a world that doesn't fallow the communist or capitalist ideal, but a third way, a middle way.
Today we have an opportunity, in the years to come I believe that are generation will have that opportunity for the world is remodeling itself at a rapid pace, a new world is being created in front of our eyes, as the result of the defeat of radical capitalism and of the theories of the school of Chicago, as the result of the joint defeat of "Bushism" and "Talibanism", the defeat of the so called war on terror policies, as the result of the election of Barack Obama.
Today we stand for sure at a turning point in history for the theories of the past century have been sent to the grave. We live in a period of immense hope, because we know that day by day we are creating a "new world".
The time has come to let these things aside, the polarized world and the fights of the past, and try to create a new world, a better world, a cleaner world, a more human world. For the possibility lays within our hands it is up to us to not make the same mistakes as in the 1990's.
Sky
This was to serious and too long probably but what the ****
here's your moment of zen after a long period of absence.....
Wednesday 18 March 2009
Illusions/ My choices
There are illusions in every fold of a page, every shot of a film and every step we take. There's a masquerade where dancers seduce us to a familiar melody.
Illusions deceive us, they do, but that's when reality strikes. When you realise that that girl staring at you doesn't want anything, you are sunk to the lowest reaches. The years pass by at an alarming rate and all the while all we can do is jump around in the folly of some amusing delusion engendered by the tyrannic power of our imagination: blessed in a life with some meaning, cursed to forever live with a lack of logic.
And emotions, they act and try to explain things that aren't really that way.
But we love those many illusions. We love those shadows on the walls as we kneel, shackled to the scene where men make shapes with various objects. We love those red, green and blue pixels that contrast with those cyan, magenta and yellow pixels. We love those dreams that we take for reflections of a better world in which we desperately try to escape reality.
We are shackled to the pillars of reality and illusions, and only one thing can set us free.
-------------------------------------------
I might have dreamt all the while I filled in that form and put crosses in those boxes. I handed it back to a man who had once taken the same decisions as I did. He's like us all, he's a human, but he's part of them, and so as typical adolescents we evoke his name in derision. I see the creases on his forehead and even though he is supposed to be that great Collossus in a big office with a big suit, I can see in his eyes the trace of a tired life.
I signed the form with my own blood, and only now do I feel I made some sort of mistake. I chose the easy way out, the highway out of a challenge, the way out of a life I could have earned my worth in. And I know, oh how I know that some filled the form like me not to get out of a tough spot, but because they truly wanted to do this, and use this for the life they wanted.
I feel like I don't fit in what I wished to do for now. I feel like my participation to society would only be superficial, written wankery to prove that I'm the most subtle of the thin dicked ugly bastards that amuse old men so that I can feed my family or my ambitions. There should only be few of us. What society needs is those people who sacrifice themselves in the name of human progression. Thankfully we have many men and women up and ready to jump into the fire or bite the bullet in our place so that the rest of us can run along and live our lives as usually.
I may talk to this to a lot of you but most of you just wave to me in an attempt to ignore what I say, or you even try to turn the subject around. I understand you, and I praise that blind determination you all have. I wish I wouldn't think about things like this, but since those realists bitches appeared into my litterary cursus and whined about how the world wasn't represented like it actually was (that's the whole point about art, idiots, getting away from this stale reality) I began to see things differently, and I understand why some of those guys are so sad and disgusted about life. There are moments when a rationalist like me just wants some bright light brutally shone in my face to blind me from things that are around me. What I need is another illusion.
Red
Saturday 14 February 2009
Who I want to be, and why I want to be him
The other night like most of the nights I was expecting, yet a another painful dreamless night. But very disturbingly I did dream, and the dream went like this...
I saw the world through the eyes of a journalist, the first image I remember form that strange dream, was the image of a plane landing in this sort of a grand, green prairie of tall grass, a prairie that was surrounded, almost like besieged from every side by the dark green tropical forest. The sun was high in the blue sky, then some clouds came, dark black clouds, there was a strong contrast between the dark green of the land, and the dark black of the clouds above the forest's head. Clouds dark black, clouds that where like a sign, a sign of troubled times ahead, of tension. The young journalist got off the plane, and he took a deep breath, I could feel the tension that was rising through out his vines, I could feel that scare that was taking control of him, I knew that some thing was wrong about this place, something was mysterious about this place. He took a deep breath and filed his lungs with the hot air, you know like the hot summer air, the hot summer air just before thunder strikes.
He got out of the plane and in the distance, in the middle of the grand green desert, stood a sign, on which was written these words "Welcome to the Bongo", the sign was covered with bullet marks. He got off and two men, white men came to see him, and in the eyes of one I saw myself some years from now, they didn't say their name, they just said hello. Together with the journalist they took off guarded by what looked to be "Blue Helmets". We penetrated in to the darks of the forest, we could see nothing, and ache and every step, it just got worse, to a point that the light became green, and a fear fulled our hearts. Then the man, through who's eye's I could see myself said "it will, still be a long walk, and the area's fulled with rebels, so you better get moving." I didn't know what really was the situation in the country of "Bongo", but I thought that it must of been like any modern situation in Africa, a rebellion against the central power, a rebellion that started with good causes, but then that became corrupt. A rebellion that had started for the people, and which lately turn against the so called enemies, the others. I was sure that it had to be one of those situations, in which neighbours, friends where turned against one another because they where "different", and that their "differences" where so strong that they couldn't live together. But in the end I knew that it was one of those situations, in which the war was so total, a situation in which the brutality of war was so high, that the sword and the bullet did not make any differences, what was in front of it, or caught between them was dead.
After hours of walking amidst the green jungle, finally the man that everyone just called N, said "ok let's make camp at the top of that mountain". From the top of that mountain we could see all the valley, the great river, and the clear sky, and yet amidst this securing nature, none could sleep....
The next day got up early at the sound of gun fire, N got up and said "I just knew it, they're coming, they're coming, we got to get back to the camp..... NOW.....", for a very long time we ran, and ran through out the jungle, we ran and ran, after hours of panic and stress, of fear, finally we got to the top of hill and from the top of hill we could see near a lake surrounded by the dark forest, a camp that looked like, a refugee camp instill the horizon. It was huge it covered all the land, it was only stopped by the lake on it's left. Tents fulled up ache and ever corner, we could see from the top of that hill, that this was no joke, for god sake this was real. You could feel with the wind, you could feel the need, the hope and yet the fear of all these thousands of souls that where banished from their homes. Many of them had left fugitives without anything, many had seen their families killed in front of them, many had ran to the lake as they called it ,with only one hope, the hope that under a UN tent they would be safe.
We got to the camp and N right away went to the barracks (the Bleu Helmet QG), I fallowed him exhausted by the travel. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, every corner, every body, every face, every heart, was filled with hopelessness, and yet their eyes shined with expectations, with hope, the hope that they here they where safe, like that the hand of the all mighty would protect them from any and everything.
N got to the barracks and told the men to arm themselves, the men where confused, the men didn't understand, one men said that well N was gone to get us, they had received orders from the director to abandon the camp and leave to nearest high land, and only to shoot, to fight the rebels that where coming to massacre all the men, women, kids, babies, all the faithful, if they attack directly the UN mission. "What do we care for this orders??" said N "For god sake these kids I've seen them grow up, I've seen them cry, but lately I've seen they believe and hope" "I remember the first year I came here, a man came, his wife had been raped and tortured and bleed to death in front of his own eyes. But that man put all of that behind him and walked west, walked instill this lake, with the hope that he could accomplish happiness once again. And today he has a wife once again and he has a family.
"And now us like cowards, we are supposed to cut and ran, and leave all these hopes, the hopes of these men and women and kids, the beliefs of this same people that just some years ago, didn't believe in anything, the same people that only some years ago principle goal in life was to survive not to pursue happiness. Are we going to let their hopes, our values be drowned in the blood of these innocent believers? Are we?. We must take, make a stand here, so that the howl world can see that we are not cowards, we are not heartless, and maybe our stand here will make the difference. Maybe our stand here will be an inspiration for the next generations, they will for sure looked back on this historic moment and what? What will they say?"
"Will they say ohhhh just another dark page of history, will they say that once again our actions here justify that being a coward, is being a human being. Will we give yet another argument for the critics, for those pessimists, that believe that all this dark things, all this horribles attitudes are part of the human race. Or will we make a stand here be remember as those that may have perished but those who stood strong, those who stood tall, in front of a certain death. Because if just one child, one child, a child for example whom was born in the slums of Nairobi, is influenced by our stand, and that same child, years later, stands on a stage and in our names calls for peace and for hope. If just one child does that won't it be worth our lives?"
The night soon fell, the night was a red night I remember, they where coming in the early hours of the mourning we could hear them coming, we could hear the rebels come.
They came, amidst the confusion of the battle, I ran, I ran to be tell the story of this heroic stand, of this fight, the one man's fight to save the world, the fight of men who where just men, men who feared death like all of us, but men who sacrificed their lives, for something that was greater then themselves, something that they believed in, those men they died for a cause, for an ideal, the ideal that we weren't are aren't that different. That peace is the only solution, and that if you have to, to sacrifice your life for a rightful cause, then you better damn do it.
I ran and after days of running as a fugitive, I finally found help in a military base, I read the newspaper there. N was dead, killed during the battle, only a handful of people had survived the battle. But the battle had created an up roar through out the world.....
This the is men I want to be, I want to be like N, and give a voice to those that do not have one, I want to go beyond material riches and I want to find greatness in something that is greater then me. I want to fight and die, if needed, for a just cause. I do not want to live in this modern day live, a live in which we have forgotten those basic values, a modern live in which we mess up what's so simple, and in the meantime a child, a innocent child has died because of a terrible civil war, a civil war that was generated by poorness, by need, by hopelessness. I want to bring hope to the darkest places of this earth, I want to bring belief to the unbelievers, I want to bring hope to that child that's dying and even if he does finally dies, I want to be there in his hours of pain, I want to be there for people. Because too many die, and are forgotten amongst the fog of time. I want to pass on my hope, I want to give my love and care to those that need it so badly, I want to be that man called N that gave his life for something he believed in. I want fight instill death if I have to for the right, the right cause, for the right to change this world, the right to make this world a better place. I don't want to famous, I don't like fame, I just want to carry the hope of people, I want to bring hope to those that promised to hope no more. My wish is not to die, no I would love to life a long life, a long life with a wife, a long life, a life in which I could see my children grow up, I would like to live a long life to be there for my wife and my children. But I guess that if I die, I died fighting, if I die and that people notice my death then probably they will engage in the battle to change this world. Because if I don't do it, who will? If we don't it who will?
My dream ended like it started in a very strange way, I found myself in front of the same prairie. There where no dark clouds, there was no smell of death, there where red flowers, red flowers flied the land.
Sky
I saw the world through the eyes of a journalist, the first image I remember form that strange dream, was the image of a plane landing in this sort of a grand, green prairie of tall grass, a prairie that was surrounded, almost like besieged from every side by the dark green tropical forest. The sun was high in the blue sky, then some clouds came, dark black clouds, there was a strong contrast between the dark green of the land, and the dark black of the clouds above the forest's head. Clouds dark black, clouds that where like a sign, a sign of troubled times ahead, of tension. The young journalist got off the plane, and he took a deep breath, I could feel the tension that was rising through out his vines, I could feel that scare that was taking control of him, I knew that some thing was wrong about this place, something was mysterious about this place. He took a deep breath and filed his lungs with the hot air, you know like the hot summer air, the hot summer air just before thunder strikes.
He got out of the plane and in the distance, in the middle of the grand green desert, stood a sign, on which was written these words "Welcome to the Bongo", the sign was covered with bullet marks. He got off and two men, white men came to see him, and in the eyes of one I saw myself some years from now, they didn't say their name, they just said hello. Together with the journalist they took off guarded by what looked to be "Blue Helmets". We penetrated in to the darks of the forest, we could see nothing, and ache and every step, it just got worse, to a point that the light became green, and a fear fulled our hearts. Then the man, through who's eye's I could see myself said "it will, still be a long walk, and the area's fulled with rebels, so you better get moving." I didn't know what really was the situation in the country of "Bongo", but I thought that it must of been like any modern situation in Africa, a rebellion against the central power, a rebellion that started with good causes, but then that became corrupt. A rebellion that had started for the people, and which lately turn against the so called enemies, the others. I was sure that it had to be one of those situations, in which neighbours, friends where turned against one another because they where "different", and that their "differences" where so strong that they couldn't live together. But in the end I knew that it was one of those situations, in which the war was so total, a situation in which the brutality of war was so high, that the sword and the bullet did not make any differences, what was in front of it, or caught between them was dead.
After hours of walking amidst the green jungle, finally the man that everyone just called N, said "ok let's make camp at the top of that mountain". From the top of that mountain we could see all the valley, the great river, and the clear sky, and yet amidst this securing nature, none could sleep....
The next day got up early at the sound of gun fire, N got up and said "I just knew it, they're coming, they're coming, we got to get back to the camp..... NOW.....", for a very long time we ran, and ran through out the jungle, we ran and ran, after hours of panic and stress, of fear, finally we got to the top of hill and from the top of hill we could see near a lake surrounded by the dark forest, a camp that looked like, a refugee camp instill the horizon. It was huge it covered all the land, it was only stopped by the lake on it's left. Tents fulled up ache and ever corner, we could see from the top of that hill, that this was no joke, for god sake this was real. You could feel with the wind, you could feel the need, the hope and yet the fear of all these thousands of souls that where banished from their homes. Many of them had left fugitives without anything, many had seen their families killed in front of them, many had ran to the lake as they called it ,with only one hope, the hope that under a UN tent they would be safe.
We got to the camp and N right away went to the barracks (the Bleu Helmet QG), I fallowed him exhausted by the travel. Everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, every corner, every body, every face, every heart, was filled with hopelessness, and yet their eyes shined with expectations, with hope, the hope that they here they where safe, like that the hand of the all mighty would protect them from any and everything.
N got to the barracks and told the men to arm themselves, the men where confused, the men didn't understand, one men said that well N was gone to get us, they had received orders from the director to abandon the camp and leave to nearest high land, and only to shoot, to fight the rebels that where coming to massacre all the men, women, kids, babies, all the faithful, if they attack directly the UN mission. "What do we care for this orders??" said N "For god sake these kids I've seen them grow up, I've seen them cry, but lately I've seen they believe and hope" "I remember the first year I came here, a man came, his wife had been raped and tortured and bleed to death in front of his own eyes. But that man put all of that behind him and walked west, walked instill this lake, with the hope that he could accomplish happiness once again. And today he has a wife once again and he has a family.
"And now us like cowards, we are supposed to cut and ran, and leave all these hopes, the hopes of these men and women and kids, the beliefs of this same people that just some years ago, didn't believe in anything, the same people that only some years ago principle goal in life was to survive not to pursue happiness. Are we going to let their hopes, our values be drowned in the blood of these innocent believers? Are we?. We must take, make a stand here, so that the howl world can see that we are not cowards, we are not heartless, and maybe our stand here will make the difference. Maybe our stand here will be an inspiration for the next generations, they will for sure looked back on this historic moment and what? What will they say?"
"Will they say ohhhh just another dark page of history, will they say that once again our actions here justify that being a coward, is being a human being. Will we give yet another argument for the critics, for those pessimists, that believe that all this dark things, all this horribles attitudes are part of the human race. Or will we make a stand here be remember as those that may have perished but those who stood strong, those who stood tall, in front of a certain death. Because if just one child, one child, a child for example whom was born in the slums of Nairobi, is influenced by our stand, and that same child, years later, stands on a stage and in our names calls for peace and for hope. If just one child does that won't it be worth our lives?"
The night soon fell, the night was a red night I remember, they where coming in the early hours of the mourning we could hear them coming, we could hear the rebels come.
They came, amidst the confusion of the battle, I ran, I ran to be tell the story of this heroic stand, of this fight, the one man's fight to save the world, the fight of men who where just men, men who feared death like all of us, but men who sacrificed their lives, for something that was greater then themselves, something that they believed in, those men they died for a cause, for an ideal, the ideal that we weren't are aren't that different. That peace is the only solution, and that if you have to, to sacrifice your life for a rightful cause, then you better damn do it.
I ran and after days of running as a fugitive, I finally found help in a military base, I read the newspaper there. N was dead, killed during the battle, only a handful of people had survived the battle. But the battle had created an up roar through out the world.....
This the is men I want to be, I want to be like N, and give a voice to those that do not have one, I want to go beyond material riches and I want to find greatness in something that is greater then me. I want to fight and die, if needed, for a just cause. I do not want to live in this modern day live, a live in which we have forgotten those basic values, a modern live in which we mess up what's so simple, and in the meantime a child, a innocent child has died because of a terrible civil war, a civil war that was generated by poorness, by need, by hopelessness. I want to bring hope to the darkest places of this earth, I want to bring belief to the unbelievers, I want to bring hope to that child that's dying and even if he does finally dies, I want to be there in his hours of pain, I want to be there for people. Because too many die, and are forgotten amongst the fog of time. I want to pass on my hope, I want to give my love and care to those that need it so badly, I want to be that man called N that gave his life for something he believed in. I want fight instill death if I have to for the right, the right cause, for the right to change this world, the right to make this world a better place. I don't want to famous, I don't like fame, I just want to carry the hope of people, I want to bring hope to those that promised to hope no more. My wish is not to die, no I would love to life a long life, a long life with a wife, a long life, a life in which I could see my children grow up, I would like to live a long life to be there for my wife and my children. But I guess that if I die, I died fighting, if I die and that people notice my death then probably they will engage in the battle to change this world. Because if I don't do it, who will? If we don't it who will?
My dream ended like it started in a very strange way, I found myself in front of the same prairie. There where no dark clouds, there was no smell of death, there where red flowers, red flowers flied the land.
Sky
Wednesday 4 February 2009
Hello
Today was like every other day of this week, just an ever flowing stream of rain, but somehow, between the grey titanic conquerors of the Sky we call clouds, I saw the light shine down on me and my feeble existence, shine down on those around me, heck, it even shone on you. It was that midday light that through a wet and humid day warmed our souls and shone so brightly that my eyes ached when I left the building and I was slightly pissed off.
I've realised that there are moments of one's life that we cannot just pass by in an attempt to forget, even if they are as seemingly trivial as the light of day warming you up in a week of an endless torrent. For some of us, those moments are something more than just a naive little comfort like being in the presence of friends in a warm café or taking a big hungry chunk out of your sandwich: they're a sign that good times eventually come and that even the smallest delights have a great value during hard times.
We cannot compare our strife to that of those who live in eternal torment, in the pain and suffering of war and terror. We are the lucky people; we live under a solid roof, sleep in a comfortable bed, get to wash with warm water everyday and eat wholesome food whenever we please. But sometimes our meagre pains, that in comparison to those of the worse off shrivel to simple nuisances, become far more solid than what they were once within our hearts. Our emotions pin us down when it comes to bad relations, and sometimes our heartfelt pain is equivalent to the material lack of others.
But all of that can change in a gap between showers, when the soil is still wet but drying, taking a big gulp of air before it gets drowned once more under heavy rain. Because we know that good times and bad times come as alternatives, and we can't have one too long without having the other after a while. They live together, and we have to live with that.
Just chillax
Red
Wednesday 28 January 2009
You've got another thing coming
Every second, another bundle comes out of the womb. Which womb? The womb of the world, I should say. In the 21st century we proclaim to be at the pinnacle of human progress, at the heart of liberty, whence freedom is no longer a word but a reality, a solid, touchable reality, and that reality is an identity card.
We thought that now that so many aeons had passed, so many men had lived, so many had died, so much had been thought of and so much had been forgotten we would have reached the sky and the heightened ethers where we would have been snug in our comfortable reality. But I guess not. I guess that they are trying to pass off this moment as an age of enlightment, an age of reasoning, an age of understanding.
There were men who, long ago, believed that every man was free. They were naive and they were candid but they believed every man had the right to his own will. They believed that we were born by our own means and that we were free of our doing.
Not long ago, someone I knew, someone I didn't know that well and who didn't know me much now that I think of it, as a joke or as a truth, I will never fathom, told me that I had no future. He told me that I could never be able to achieve what I wanted to achieve and that I should rather give up now. I thought, rather naively or rightly, I can't quite remember, that if that is so I should rather drop on the spot. Was my existence worth living? Was I confined to these walls?
I thought and I still think that we had a right to our own dreams. But I also ask myself, why should we have dreams if we can't realise them?
I stumble and painfully walk home on a wet, pouring day of lashing rain. I walk the slope made by the hands of those who once had dreams. I see the walls of those who had once dreamt. I see the faces of those who still dream, so young, fresh and unscathed, but I can only see the heavy reality of fate looming over their soft heads.
It's as if the world was a competition. When you think of it, it kind of seems so: you were born a racer, born a dude with a tail, racing through the womb and hopefully jumping into that narrow gap. You first lived as a survivor, as a bunch of flesh who clung to life and to your mother with a rope hanging you on. You walked on four hands, prone to whatever life threw at you, because you didn't really care. All that mattered to you was how you should colour Mum and Dad's house, what a monkey looked like, if your fingers tasted good and what you were going to do of your day. You spent your days in leisure because you couldn't think of anything, anything at all, until one day, one day you learnt something that opened your eyes. You learnt that what surrounded you wasn't what you thought it was and since then you've been asking yourself questions that might or might never be answered, thought about doing things you had the will to do but you you didn't have the means.
Now we walk the streets marching on cold, humid and unhospitable ground, hotter than a thousand coals, colder than a thousand seas, wearing down your shoes more than a million times anything else ever could. They want to walk on us, they want to ride us like cattle, they want to bind us to what we see and not question reality, reality we are so accustomed to. We have the will, we have the hearts but we don't have the rights, because we're nothing but an economic subdivision, nothing than groups of individuals, masses of singular minds, dull-eyed cattle the way they see it.
They push us against each other, they make us programmed “individuals” just so that we could bounce off each other like electrons in an atom, making one whole, making something they could handle and recycle. They laughed at our projects, they envied our courage but they wanted what was right for them and not for the other mass of unworthy idiots.
What do I have to say to that person who tore me down? Nothing. I rarely forgive such errors, even human ones, but I do not wish to share with them the knowledge of the initiate, because I can see the future. I can see what I want, I have my eyes on my desire, I shall have it because even if there are forces that make us move like muppets, the stage is in total chaos and the spotlight is ripe to be taken.
Don't think I'll sit around as the world goes by...
Red
We thought that now that so many aeons had passed, so many men had lived, so many had died, so much had been thought of and so much had been forgotten we would have reached the sky and the heightened ethers where we would have been snug in our comfortable reality. But I guess not. I guess that they are trying to pass off this moment as an age of enlightment, an age of reasoning, an age of understanding.
There were men who, long ago, believed that every man was free. They were naive and they were candid but they believed every man had the right to his own will. They believed that we were born by our own means and that we were free of our doing.
Not long ago, someone I knew, someone I didn't know that well and who didn't know me much now that I think of it, as a joke or as a truth, I will never fathom, told me that I had no future. He told me that I could never be able to achieve what I wanted to achieve and that I should rather give up now. I thought, rather naively or rightly, I can't quite remember, that if that is so I should rather drop on the spot. Was my existence worth living? Was I confined to these walls?
I thought and I still think that we had a right to our own dreams. But I also ask myself, why should we have dreams if we can't realise them?
I stumble and painfully walk home on a wet, pouring day of lashing rain. I walk the slope made by the hands of those who once had dreams. I see the walls of those who had once dreamt. I see the faces of those who still dream, so young, fresh and unscathed, but I can only see the heavy reality of fate looming over their soft heads.
It's as if the world was a competition. When you think of it, it kind of seems so: you were born a racer, born a dude with a tail, racing through the womb and hopefully jumping into that narrow gap. You first lived as a survivor, as a bunch of flesh who clung to life and to your mother with a rope hanging you on. You walked on four hands, prone to whatever life threw at you, because you didn't really care. All that mattered to you was how you should colour Mum and Dad's house, what a monkey looked like, if your fingers tasted good and what you were going to do of your day. You spent your days in leisure because you couldn't think of anything, anything at all, until one day, one day you learnt something that opened your eyes. You learnt that what surrounded you wasn't what you thought it was and since then you've been asking yourself questions that might or might never be answered, thought about doing things you had the will to do but you you didn't have the means.
Now we walk the streets marching on cold, humid and unhospitable ground, hotter than a thousand coals, colder than a thousand seas, wearing down your shoes more than a million times anything else ever could. They want to walk on us, they want to ride us like cattle, they want to bind us to what we see and not question reality, reality we are so accustomed to. We have the will, we have the hearts but we don't have the rights, because we're nothing but an economic subdivision, nothing than groups of individuals, masses of singular minds, dull-eyed cattle the way they see it.
They push us against each other, they make us programmed “individuals” just so that we could bounce off each other like electrons in an atom, making one whole, making something they could handle and recycle. They laughed at our projects, they envied our courage but they wanted what was right for them and not for the other mass of unworthy idiots.
What do I have to say to that person who tore me down? Nothing. I rarely forgive such errors, even human ones, but I do not wish to share with them the knowledge of the initiate, because I can see the future. I can see what I want, I have my eyes on my desire, I shall have it because even if there are forces that make us move like muppets, the stage is in total chaos and the spotlight is ripe to be taken.
Don't think I'll sit around as the world goes by...
Red
Sunday 25 January 2009
Mike
Today was a sad day, the rain kept on pounding down, today four more illegal immigrants were killed when trying to get a better life somewhere in the state of New Mexico along the Mexican-American border and yet the rain kept on pounding down. Today somewhere in the West Bank along a fence yet another Palestinian was killed, killed for no reason, ohhh wait maybe there was a reason actually he was "an Arab". Today in Iraq mothers lament their lost sons once again, sons that left broken families, sons that left little brothers with nothing, sons and just sons, once again. Today yet another Native-American committed suicide because there really isn't any hope left for him, all he's got is a half empty bottle of beer and a broken shack for a home, yet we say to follow the message of "God".
I hate to say so, but one day I left you Mike, I found a way out, I found a bridge, I found a path, I ran because they were after me, I ran, never to think of you, it was too painful, never again to think of my brother Kieran, who had always looked up to me: all I left was but a freezing cold, I had became the snow, that had burnt us to the bones, I had become death, I'm your death. Watch out, be watchful, watch out for me. I might come back I guess you believed to come and save you from the reserve, but I never did, did I, I turned on you, didn't I? I gave up on you, yes I did... Nowhere to go, no one to believe in, no one to go down to the river with, no river to see because the river is dry, the river's dead right? What's left? What is left?
Sorry this really is long, but I've got to get it all out tonight, like you told me, when you believed that a better life was possible, that maybe death was just a dream. Did you go down to the river that night? Did you try to escape the reserve that night, did you go to find safety near the watch tower? You went there I'm sure, trying to find me, but you found but darkness, you found out that finally no one really cared that you lived or died, because for those rednecks, a good Indian is a dead one right? If not Mike tell me, tell me why would they stock you up like that in a reserve, uh, Mike? And in the end, Mike, when you got to see that great bright light, for what did you fight? I'm sorry. I'm sorry Mike, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Kieran, I ran, I ran for my life just like a dog after a car, I had to. I left you. I see Mike, I know now the lesson, that you tried to teach me, I understand now, it's not about if what your doing is good for you or not, it's about doing right, isn't it? Mike, when you stood on that rock overlooking the valley, what did you think, did you think of me? Did you forgive me Mike? And Kieran, do you forgive me, do you?
Tonight I got a call. You know what? Mike commited suicide, just another victim of the reserve system.
Sky
Those that died, will never see that valley, the valley of fraternity; they died just because they where different and in this society we hide differences in a dark corner. We try to hide them in the attic but they just couldn't fit so they died for no reason... Today once again a rocket fell on a Israeli town : it could have killed two young boys just because they where different....
I can't understand, and sometimes I think about all of this, I think about my writing and think probably I write for nothing, but this morning I saw on TV those same old, same old pictures of death and I just couldn't keep myself from writing this post... Once a long time ago I went north, far north, north to where all is woods, I went to a reserve, out near a lake, a big lake.
I can't understand, and sometimes I think about all of this, I think about my writing and think probably I write for nothing, but this morning I saw on TV those same old, same old pictures of death and I just couldn't keep myself from writing this post... Once a long time ago I went north, far north, north to where all is woods, I went to a reserve, out near a lake, a big lake.
I remember, how isolated that place was, nothing but woods to the west, to the north, to the south and the east: that trip probably made me who I am today... We came by plane, landed on the lake. My mom was the new teacher up there, they hadn't had one in years maybe. The sky was gray that morning, the mist came in like to warn me, and yet that place was magic, a sort of like dream... There I woke up out of that thing called childhood; there they called me "whitey", I was the "whitey". I learned up there the most important lesson of my life, at least for the time being, the lesson that even if at the start we seem strange to each other, at the end of the story we are the same. I didn't stay there long, just the right time; I got a wisdom there that follows me until this very day. From every side the Forest invaded civilization, so one day, I went off into the woods with a friend, "Mike" , but anyway that's not the important stuff, that day was alike almost every day. Along the lake, abandoned houses flourished, a bit like mirrors that stood in front of the village, to remind them every day what reality was, what the real truth was.... that they where different, that actually no angel could come and save them, close, shut, in an iron box with windows to see the real world. Up there I felt that hate that consumes you like a punch from a parent: a hit that explodes inside and you stand and can't do anything... And I stood and did nothing, I felt my body fading away, I felt my heart, my lungs pounding like nuts, and I stood there. That day we went down to the river with the half-blood, we sat: he was a bit older than me, we knew very well that we were in hell... a hell that somehow looked like paradise... In the distance then came a rider, the wind lifted, and called his name: you know he was just an Indian, Mike was just an Indian.... I guess his life wasn't worth ours, was it? They took him away because of that...
He never got to be loved that Mike, never got to breathe that air of liberty. We had tried to get away, get away from that place, but it was as if wherever we went, wherever we tried to hide, anyway we ran that it always came for us, that it always kept on calling, calling for us. One night I remember well, it was the first night whence I saw Mike; he was sited, near the lake, behind a tree, like if he was half-dead. Mike always was like that, half-dead, I guess I was too; all the other kids said "don't go talk to him", "you know he's got half-blood in those veins and you know Niall that ain't no good, it just ain't no good..." But what did I care, I never really did ever care for anyone and the ones I cared for turned against me or were lost... I had a brother once, he was in everyway better than me, he looked up to me thinking that I was looking down to him, but I wasn't me too I was looking up, brotherhood we take for granted, but I know that it isn't a gift. I believed in my brother more than anyone. Together we fought the dark sky and those big red clouds, and yet the calling kept on coming no matter what we would do. We couldn't hide, or run , for it was the truth. We tried to hide but they broke us apart, we tried to keep the flame alive, but they killed it, now we are but two lost roaring souls, if we even have souls anymore. During those cold winters we fought and shared victory, but somehow that didn't mean anything, all of that didn't mean anything because we took it for granted, we took those times together for trivialities and today it's like they will never come again. Mike, deep, deep, down inside himself he was broken, he knew that there was no easy way out, because he was different, and I knew that too because I knew how it felt, how all of this felt, how being a stranger in his own house felt, nothing he told me surprised me. I fell again, and again in that cold, freezing snow again and again, we felt the same pain and we shared it, we gave it, and in doing so broke it, we broke it's back, come on. "Come on down to the river and wash those sins from your hands", Mike always told me, and then, "and then when we're in the water, we will escape from this tasteless reality, why must we live, what do we live for"? Life is but a joke, a bad one; it eats us up, it keeps us down and then when it's finished with us it kills us. Come on Niall, come on, come down to the river, come and wash those sins, ohhhhhh come on now, we don't care, do we? I promise you we will get to the promised land, we will get out of here, there must be a way out of here, and then when where down in the valley near the river bank, will go to that promised land together...
That morning near the green grasses of the valley, where we once sat, we saw the light, and God, Mike was so happy: he believed, he finally believed, that maybe there was a way out, but my brother he shivered in pain, pain of deception. Deceptions, we've had so many haven't we Mike? Right brother? We thought that life could free us, that destiny was ours, that it was like something we could model and change, but isn't like that saying Mike, change is but an illusion, it never really comes, it's just status quo, and against nothing we can do, the river is dead isn't it Mike tell me the truth, there's no way out, is there?
That morning near the green grasses of the valley, where we once sat, we saw the light, and God, Mike was so happy: he believed, he finally believed, that maybe there was a way out, but my brother he shivered in pain, pain of deception. Deceptions, we've had so many haven't we Mike? Right brother? We thought that life could free us, that destiny was ours, that it was like something we could model and change, but isn't like that saying Mike, change is but an illusion, it never really comes, it's just status quo, and against nothing we can do, the river is dead isn't it Mike tell me the truth, there's no way out, is there?
I hate to say so, but one day I left you Mike, I found a way out, I found a bridge, I found a path, I ran because they were after me, I ran, never to think of you, it was too painful, never again to think of my brother Kieran, who had always looked up to me: all I left was but a freezing cold, I had became the snow, that had burnt us to the bones, I had become death, I'm your death. Watch out, be watchful, watch out for me. I might come back I guess you believed to come and save you from the reserve, but I never did, did I, I turned on you, didn't I? I gave up on you, yes I did... Nowhere to go, no one to believe in, no one to go down to the river with, no river to see because the river is dry, the river's dead right? What's left? What is left?
Sorry this really is long, but I've got to get it all out tonight, like you told me, when you believed that a better life was possible, that maybe death was just a dream. Did you go down to the river that night? Did you try to escape the reserve that night, did you go to find safety near the watch tower? You went there I'm sure, trying to find me, but you found but darkness, you found out that finally no one really cared that you lived or died, because for those rednecks, a good Indian is a dead one right? If not Mike tell me, tell me why would they stock you up like that in a reserve, uh, Mike? And in the end, Mike, when you got to see that great bright light, for what did you fight? I'm sorry. I'm sorry Mike, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Kieran, I ran, I ran for my life just like a dog after a car, I had to. I left you. I see Mike, I know now the lesson, that you tried to teach me, I understand now, it's not about if what your doing is good for you or not, it's about doing right, isn't it? Mike, when you stood on that rock overlooking the valley, what did you think, did you think of me? Did you forgive me Mike? And Kieran, do you forgive me, do you?
Tonight I got a call. You know what? Mike commited suicide, just another victim of the reserve system.
Sky
Saturday 24 January 2009
Thursday 22 January 2009
Justice
The world as everyone now knows is in a huge economic crisis, and for some it's like this economic crisis came out of the blue, but the truth behind all theses lies and all this blinding "bullshit", is that this crisis did not come out of the blue. No, no I know it's hard to believe that around 2.000.000 people on the street without anything was planed, but in the end well the truth is that actually it was. Now thousands of dreams where broken in just one night, thousands cry asking them selfs how will they tell their kids that mama's broke, now thousands see nothing but darkness, now many ask them selfs if they get to live another day? There's no promised land for them, no time, no time to rest, no time to dream, no American Prayer for them.... All they had was lost, all their beliefs faded away in the immensity of their, that darkness that fulls their dreams...
And all of this because of a handful of cold blooded machines , that don't believe any more in men, a handful of cold blooded machines, that believe only in numbers, and that don't really care for their brothers, because if their brothers starve or eat, it doesn't really matter "for them", because at the end of mouth if a hundred starve or if a million starve they don't give a damn because their get their check anyway...
That's the problem, that's the problem, we let the great tool become more then just a tool, we became money's servers and not the other way around, because today, money is not a tool, today the problem isn't about the quantity of money you need to live, it's about the quantity of money you want, because instead of trying to see if there's just a small really small possibility of seeing if maybe, just maybe we have enough money to go around, we always want more and more, blinded by our greed we gave up on our values, we gave up on that necessary glue that keeps us together, and then we ask our selfs why? why? is our world jammed? why? why? is our world dying?...
We made the monster grow, we gave those men the possibilities to use the system and in doing so, destroy the global markets and put the lights out on more then 1 million lives "at least in the US".
Because the goal of this society, of this society in which we live in today, is to get rich quick and damn the consequences, and what's the problem with that attitude? Because in the end those same cold blooded monsters that recked the global economy, like a band of hypocritical bandits, got there gold parachutes anyway ,and the worst thing is that they where fabricated with the money of taxpayers, listen at least it's got the label "made in the USA"...
It's probably one of the last things that will have the honour to wear that label, because now because of those terrorists, the "American Economy" is dying, that's a fact, another fact no one seems to care. For the first time in my life, I thought that the Republicans where right, the day, the Republicans said no to a bailout plan, that assured those terrorists 2 million, no what I'm, I saying sorry... 20 million dollar refuges... So today thousands of tax payers are living a hard, one of the hardest winters in history, others starve on sidewalks of Philadelphia, and you know what others are living the "big life"...
Now where's the justice? Where are the values, that once made a this nation, a great nation, this world a great one? Is that what we are all about? And you cold blooded robber, what do you feel deep down inside? what do you see in the mirror? do you see the faces of those you robbed, of all of those lives your destroyed? of course not, of course not you couldn't care less, because your on a yacht in the middle of beautiful blue southern seas right?...
And really it's not your blame, no it's ours, it's ours, because we gave the power, to such "jackasses" like you, it's our fault to believe in poison fulled men like your selfs.
So a dark, cold, night falls, once again, on Philadelphia, a night in which thousands more will lose everything, a night in which many more will lose the reason they lived for, thousands more will feel bad about looked them selfs in the mirror, a dark cold night falls on humanity, but we now understand, believe me Greenspan, trust me Madoff, we don't believe in green paper anymore, we know that numbers aren't all powerful now, and now we know that your just band of greedy rats.
This not really a bad ending, in the end it was our fault to believe, and to let these men control powerfully all the economy, but this was lesson, a lesson for all of us. Humanity was corrupt by the magic green dollar, no the dollar isn't all mighty, that's for sure. During this last years we lost our way, we got lost and somewhere started heading back, but in the end thank you Madoff, and thanks mr. Greenspan finally you gave us the chance to see the light.
Sky
And all of this because of a handful of cold blooded machines , that don't believe any more in men, a handful of cold blooded machines, that believe only in numbers, and that don't really care for their brothers, because if their brothers starve or eat, it doesn't really matter "for them", because at the end of mouth if a hundred starve or if a million starve they don't give a damn because their get their check anyway...
That's the problem, that's the problem, we let the great tool become more then just a tool, we became money's servers and not the other way around, because today, money is not a tool, today the problem isn't about the quantity of money you need to live, it's about the quantity of money you want, because instead of trying to see if there's just a small really small possibility of seeing if maybe, just maybe we have enough money to go around, we always want more and more, blinded by our greed we gave up on our values, we gave up on that necessary glue that keeps us together, and then we ask our selfs why? why? is our world jammed? why? why? is our world dying?...
We made the monster grow, we gave those men the possibilities to use the system and in doing so, destroy the global markets and put the lights out on more then 1 million lives "at least in the US".
Because the goal of this society, of this society in which we live in today, is to get rich quick and damn the consequences, and what's the problem with that attitude? Because in the end those same cold blooded monsters that recked the global economy, like a band of hypocritical bandits, got there gold parachutes anyway ,and the worst thing is that they where fabricated with the money of taxpayers, listen at least it's got the label "made in the USA"...
It's probably one of the last things that will have the honour to wear that label, because now because of those terrorists, the "American Economy" is dying, that's a fact, another fact no one seems to care. For the first time in my life, I thought that the Republicans where right, the day, the Republicans said no to a bailout plan, that assured those terrorists 2 million, no what I'm, I saying sorry... 20 million dollar refuges... So today thousands of tax payers are living a hard, one of the hardest winters in history, others starve on sidewalks of Philadelphia, and you know what others are living the "big life"...
Now where's the justice? Where are the values, that once made a this nation, a great nation, this world a great one? Is that what we are all about? And you cold blooded robber, what do you feel deep down inside? what do you see in the mirror? do you see the faces of those you robbed, of all of those lives your destroyed? of course not, of course not you couldn't care less, because your on a yacht in the middle of beautiful blue southern seas right?...
And really it's not your blame, no it's ours, it's ours, because we gave the power, to such "jackasses" like you, it's our fault to believe in poison fulled men like your selfs.
So a dark, cold, night falls, once again, on Philadelphia, a night in which thousands more will lose everything, a night in which many more will lose the reason they lived for, thousands more will feel bad about looked them selfs in the mirror, a dark cold night falls on humanity, but we now understand, believe me Greenspan, trust me Madoff, we don't believe in green paper anymore, we know that numbers aren't all powerful now, and now we know that your just band of greedy rats.
This not really a bad ending, in the end it was our fault to believe, and to let these men control powerfully all the economy, but this was lesson, a lesson for all of us. Humanity was corrupt by the magic green dollar, no the dollar isn't all mighty, that's for sure. During this last years we lost our way, we got lost and somewhere started heading back, but in the end thank you Madoff, and thanks mr. Greenspan finally you gave us the chance to see the light.
Sky
Dom Juan
Here as I sit, knocked off my feet by a bad cold during a wet rainy day, thoughts spring up about one of my most detested elements of this world: those excessively “pious” people. These come in such a great variety, and as much as I love variety, this isn't the kind I like.
Once, some guys thought that it would be a great idea to take the common people's only source of hope and turn it into their own source of wealth. I can't be too precise to say whom, but I'm sure they shall recognise themselves in my words. They would crush the only value of religion to see if it made gold. Their materialist intentions and desires turn them into monsters of the human race, worse than the worst of crooks and cons. They would abuse the trust of billions of men, women and children just for some sort of compensation. Popoff and his powers, people? And the worst thing about it all is that I'm sure you could never pull out a single string of truth from their mouths, not even to save their own lives because honesty is inexistant in the minds of liars.
Others do pretty much the same thing, but more for special favours and power than money. Wasn't christianity born on the principle of humility? What the hell is the Pope and his esses doing in a huge palace down in their own state? Would it make a big difference to Jesus if his churches were more laden in gold than a top of the charts rapper's toilet?
Some are just all out maniacs who got religion all wrong. Why on earth would God want you to kill others of your kind if supposedly he wants peace? Muhammed got pissed off at some posers checkin' his land, so he decided to get all litterary on their asses and wrote a new rule about getting to kill someone who opposes himself to Muhammed's power. How godly. A group of dudes get in a car, drive up really fast to the motorway, blow themselves up, and for what? Some doubtable hope that you'll get more poon in heaven than on earth?
Wackos got their shit all wrong when they sought out the use of religion as a way to enslave the people and build some sort of common moral values in a society whose's ones weren't good enough for them. I hate quoting communists, but religion really IS the people's opiate. Would those guys still have written a big book if they saw the harm their fantastic foundations to a utopic society did? Maybe they should've thought about making the stories a little less sublte instead of giving people the idea that the first men appeared 10,000 years ago with a couple of candid idiots. What the fuck? Dinosaurs?
I don't know about you, but I think a constitution is a better idea to found a country instead of a fucking science fiction novel.
Get your shit together people.
Red
Wednesday 21 January 2009
Hope over Fear
Yesterday a great man stood on a hill, in front of the world, he stood there in depths of winter, whiteness surrounding him, he stood there, like the light that flashes in depths of darkness, he stood there and he said, these simple but incredible words...
Yesterday, the world was reborn, like everyday, only this time around under a new light.
Yesterday, hope triumphed over a besieging fear, a fear that was everywhere on every street, in everyone's mouth, in everyone's mind,and yet yesterday a new light came...
For too long we have stood here in indifference, scared to make a stand, scared to our rightfully rights, since the arrival of Georges W Bush , it was as if America, a nation of so many ideals, a nations of so many beliefs had just faded away, and like accepted it's "faith", as if America's decline was unstoppable, unbeatable, and that the best thing we had to do, was to wash our hands and walk away. And in the end it was probably the easiest thing to do...
Since my youngest age I was always had that sensation that history, belonged to the past, and that no one was making any more in these days, That those great values that make this world such an amazing one where lost forever, and that the future was just a banal word...
Yes before I was like you, many of you, a pessimist, that believed that history, that society was just the grouping of all these human errors, and that ache and everyone of our actions already known to someone, was already programmed by something...
I had no faith, I guess it was the easy way, the fast way, the majority's way, but for sure not the good way...
Yesterday on a "Hill" a man said these words "Hope over Fear" at first sight they may seem banal, and not very important words, but the truth is that these simple, banal words are the words that represent the best in us, that represent that good road, the road on which ride the believers, the men that believe that we can change this world, that we can fight and win, and that for sure never will we give up...
Those 3 words are the words, the motto of a whole thought, the idea that we are more then just simple men named "Niall or Fintan.... etc ", we are voices, we are the transmitters of ideas, we are builders, and changers, revolutionaries that have the power in our selfs to do what we want with this world... For too long, too long we had accepted to believe that there was some superior intelligence that, decided of the evolution of mankind, and that our acts where not of our will, our will had nothing to do with all of it. But in the end, we are the makers of our reality, and even if we all want to accuse this superior intelligence of all the darkness that surrounds us...
It's a hard thing to accept failure, it's a hard thought, the thought of responsibility even I do not know what profoundly it really means, but one thing I'm sure about is that we where or maybe even still are headed down the bad road.
A road of failure, a road on which we have or bring no really big expectation or hope, the time has come to change roads, the time has come to for once in this worlds life, for once in humanity's life walk the steeps we should of walked a long time ago, walk the steeps we promised to walk, scores ago...
For too long, too long, we have accepted just to be an illusion, an appearance of what actually we should be, because that was how it was when we still walked the down the easy road. But something shifted some days ago I felt, I promise you.... Something, somehow happened, we're not on the old road anymore, we feel no fear now, between us, we felt no more cold, because now we know now that "Yes we Can" that there's not real wall that stands between us, there's no real difference between us, nothing that "Math' proves understand? anything that's put in front of us we can surmount, probably the only thing we must really surpass is probably, is this hate, that exists between us. So this is my motto "Hope over Fear" because now there's no going back the time is upon us, the time of hope, and you know why?
Because once a hill was covered in white, no black could even get close to that secrete hill, and today that hill, that house on the top of the hill is black, so now tell me whats impossible.
My Grandmother that lived in San Francisco and had seen times of hope die in rivers of blood, she told me just sometime ago before she died, that I would see, I would see that light that she fought, she told me watch that man take the hill and now never give up on that believe that anything any "damn" thing is possible...
So this post goes out to my grandmother, to my grandfather, because they never got the opportunity to see that great day, but they always knew, they always believed in "Hope over Fear" they believed that no matter what, one day hope would prevail, and now it's my turn to believe, to believe that "yes" if we unite nothing is impossible, so call me a dreamer all ll say is thank you because I am...
Tonight I'm going to walk to the top of that hill to let my Grandmother's ashes rest there for the eternity.
Sky
Yesterday, the world was reborn, like everyday, only this time around under a new light.
Yesterday, hope triumphed over a besieging fear, a fear that was everywhere on every street, in everyone's mouth, in everyone's mind,and yet yesterday a new light came...
For too long we have stood here in indifference, scared to make a stand, scared to our rightfully rights, since the arrival of Georges W Bush , it was as if America, a nation of so many ideals, a nations of so many beliefs had just faded away, and like accepted it's "faith", as if America's decline was unstoppable, unbeatable, and that the best thing we had to do, was to wash our hands and walk away. And in the end it was probably the easiest thing to do...
Since my youngest age I was always had that sensation that history, belonged to the past, and that no one was making any more in these days, That those great values that make this world such an amazing one where lost forever, and that the future was just a banal word...
Yes before I was like you, many of you, a pessimist, that believed that history, that society was just the grouping of all these human errors, and that ache and everyone of our actions already known to someone, was already programmed by something...
I had no faith, I guess it was the easy way, the fast way, the majority's way, but for sure not the good way...
Yesterday on a "Hill" a man said these words "Hope over Fear" at first sight they may seem banal, and not very important words, but the truth is that these simple, banal words are the words that represent the best in us, that represent that good road, the road on which ride the believers, the men that believe that we can change this world, that we can fight and win, and that for sure never will we give up...
Those 3 words are the words, the motto of a whole thought, the idea that we are more then just simple men named "Niall or Fintan.... etc ", we are voices, we are the transmitters of ideas, we are builders, and changers, revolutionaries that have the power in our selfs to do what we want with this world... For too long, too long we had accepted to believe that there was some superior intelligence that, decided of the evolution of mankind, and that our acts where not of our will, our will had nothing to do with all of it. But in the end, we are the makers of our reality, and even if we all want to accuse this superior intelligence of all the darkness that surrounds us...
It's a hard thing to accept failure, it's a hard thought, the thought of responsibility even I do not know what profoundly it really means, but one thing I'm sure about is that we where or maybe even still are headed down the bad road.
A road of failure, a road on which we have or bring no really big expectation or hope, the time has come to change roads, the time has come to for once in this worlds life, for once in humanity's life walk the steeps we should of walked a long time ago, walk the steeps we promised to walk, scores ago...
For too long, too long, we have accepted just to be an illusion, an appearance of what actually we should be, because that was how it was when we still walked the down the easy road. But something shifted some days ago I felt, I promise you.... Something, somehow happened, we're not on the old road anymore, we feel no fear now, between us, we felt no more cold, because now we know now that "Yes we Can" that there's not real wall that stands between us, there's no real difference between us, nothing that "Math' proves understand? anything that's put in front of us we can surmount, probably the only thing we must really surpass is probably, is this hate, that exists between us. So this is my motto "Hope over Fear" because now there's no going back the time is upon us, the time of hope, and you know why?
Because once a hill was covered in white, no black could even get close to that secrete hill, and today that hill, that house on the top of the hill is black, so now tell me whats impossible.
My Grandmother that lived in San Francisco and had seen times of hope die in rivers of blood, she told me just sometime ago before she died, that I would see, I would see that light that she fought, she told me watch that man take the hill and now never give up on that believe that anything any "damn" thing is possible...
So this post goes out to my grandmother, to my grandfather, because they never got the opportunity to see that great day, but they always knew, they always believed in "Hope over Fear" they believed that no matter what, one day hope would prevail, and now it's my turn to believe, to believe that "yes" if we unite nothing is impossible, so call me a dreamer all ll say is thank you because I am...
Tonight I'm going to walk to the top of that hill to let my Grandmother's ashes rest there for the eternity.
Sky
I concede
I have to agree with my ridiculously optimistic fellow blogger and friend, yesterday WAS a historic moment for all of us. Today a special man will enter a special office and take the reins of a special country.
If he of all men could rise to the power of an entire nation, why not every other citizen? I am not a person too immersed in politics, but I know and knew that Mr the 44th President of the United States of America Barack Hussein Obama II is a symbol of the American Dream, that one's will and determination surpasses all other forces, and that with the pure power of will we can rise to the be who we want to be, regardless of any possible factor existing.
Nothing can stop us being who we want to be, because we have the will to do what we will, and I see that Barack Obama is an adept of Crowley, which greatly raises my esteem in this man who has done so many things to reinforce the Republic he now presides and to enjoy his liberties, even those condemned by the state like some of the “vices” he committed while he was young, which I need not clarify: he is clearly THE final product of the American Dream.
Those who told him when he was once young that he could never achieve what he set to achieve were wrong; they are the antithesis of the freedom hosted in the U.S.A and are worth less than those courageous immigrants who wish to do as they want in a land of opportunity. He is now so much more than he ever believed he could be.
The U.S.A has long been for me the example of an ironic Land of the Free, a land stolen by brute force and violence from the humble hands of millions of natives of their own land, victims of a genocide cast onto them by the conquerors of a new world. Finally, with the arrival of Mr Obama as head of the American government the image of the U.S.A has been quite redeemed in my eyes, by this man who's esteem would have been so low in the eyes of so many ignorant people and is now raised to a legendary statute.
Let us see if Mr Obama has not delivered yet another dream to be deceived and fulfills his promises. I don't really trust in politicians...
If he of all men could rise to the power of an entire nation, why not every other citizen? I am not a person too immersed in politics, but I know and knew that Mr the 44th President of the United States of America Barack Hussein Obama II is a symbol of the American Dream, that one's will and determination surpasses all other forces, and that with the pure power of will we can rise to the be who we want to be, regardless of any possible factor existing.
Nothing can stop us being who we want to be, because we have the will to do what we will, and I see that Barack Obama is an adept of Crowley, which greatly raises my esteem in this man who has done so many things to reinforce the Republic he now presides and to enjoy his liberties, even those condemned by the state like some of the “vices” he committed while he was young, which I need not clarify: he is clearly THE final product of the American Dream.
Those who told him when he was once young that he could never achieve what he set to achieve were wrong; they are the antithesis of the freedom hosted in the U.S.A and are worth less than those courageous immigrants who wish to do as they want in a land of opportunity. He is now so much more than he ever believed he could be.
The U.S.A has long been for me the example of an ironic Land of the Free, a land stolen by brute force and violence from the humble hands of millions of natives of their own land, victims of a genocide cast onto them by the conquerors of a new world. Finally, with the arrival of Mr Obama as head of the American government the image of the U.S.A has been quite redeemed in my eyes, by this man who's esteem would have been so low in the eyes of so many ignorant people and is now raised to a legendary statute.
Let us see if Mr Obama has not delivered yet another dream to be deceived and fulfills his promises. I don't really trust in politicians...
Monday 19 January 2009
CHANGE
When the sun lifts through the darkness of the night, on the 20th of January 2009, a new world will be born. Once upon a time somewhere on a hill in Washington D.C, in front of the statue of Lincoln a young brave, brilliant African-American, made a speech, he said that he had a dream, and that for that dream he would make the ultimate sacrifice. Martin Luther King Jr died 40 years ago, but through out those 40 years his dream seemed dying slowly in to the deep darkness, that blinds us and keeps us from seeing the promised land. Once in a speech Martin Luther King Jr talked about that promised land, but the difference between MLK and the rest of those who talked of that promised land, is that more then anyone MLK fought for that dream, the dream of one day getting to that promised land together as he said as one people.
Before the drawing of dawn on the 20th my home didn't quite look, like it looks like today, before dawn, there was not one united America, there was many America's, one that lived in great poverty just because the colour of their skin was "Black" or that their native language was Spanish. Before dawn on the 20th of January 2009 nothing was the same, our beliefs where different, our values, who's talking about values, we didn't have values, we where consumed by the greed, and blinded by power, we didn't really know what was our goal in life, we lived like a leaf in the wind. We would walk down streets, and see the homeless and ignore our brother because he was of another colour, we talked about great things, we talked about the "dream" and yet we didn't really understand the meaning of all of it. Before the United States of America, where just merely a word without any real signification .
Before I remember one night, on the red hot streets of Birmingham, two "blacks" where killed just because, for the killers their lives didn't mean that much because they where Black, because as the killers said they where "Negroes", before in the south African-Americans where lynched just because they tried to get a education, all the nation lived in separation, in the nation there where two worlds, one for the "Whites", and one for the "Blacks", one in which all the "American Dream" was a possibility and another where the simple dream of living in nice neighbourhood, in a nice house, with a garden and a dog was an impossibility. Before dawn the American Dream was but an illusion, a abstract thought, something for some, nothing for some others, paradise for some, hell for others.
But in the deep Darkness of night, just before the rising of the sun, a calling came, a calling for the most profound of our souls, probably similar to the calling that called our ancestors to declare independence, similar to the calling that called upon a generation of northerns to sacrifice all for the liberty of their "Black Brothers", a calling that came from a hill, a hill back in 1963 a hill in Washington, a calling that said that the dream was still there, that it wasn't the dream that was giving up on us, but rather us that where giving up on the dream. We tried to shut that damn calling up, and yet the more we tried the louder it sounded, it came like waves, it ask us to believe once again in the possibilities, in what once made this nation, the nation of possibilities.
And in the depths of the dark night that, had consumed our nation a movement was born, a movement that called out the best of us, the best of our values, it ask us to believe, believe that we weren't that different, that really we all just wanted a better life, and better dreams for our kids, that deep down no matter what colour we wear, no matter what god we believe in, our will is the same, our will is in the end a good one, and that together we could brave the dark night, that together we could make the dawn come, and together even one of most impossible of dreams could come true.
And like a blast came the 4th of November 2008, and that day proved us right, that the sun was hided there behind those dark clouds, the 4th of November, was like a rebirth, as if our country was reborn, and us with it. That day changed me for ever, it changed my vision of the world, because before like many of you I believed, that, well that there was no real need to dream big, because the bigger your dream, the harder you fall back to reality, but that day showed me that reality is not an inflexible thing, that's there to keep you down, no, on the 4th of November we made reality, Yes we did.
So on the 20th of January, I will probably cry, come and see if you want but the truth is that there are rare moments, they are rare, because their rarity, is their to prove to us that no matter what, the world still is a wonderful place in which you make and break everything. On the 20th of January all those pessimists with be "shut-uped" once and for all. All those that said that this day was never possible, will know that anything is possible, and all those impossibilities will become possibilities, when Obama becomes the 44th president of United States of America, we like end the terrible civil war that has consumed us since 1864, and with his presidency, together as a people we will reach the promised land.
BELIEVE IT.
Sky
Before the drawing of dawn on the 20th my home didn't quite look, like it looks like today, before dawn, there was not one united America, there was many America's, one that lived in great poverty just because the colour of their skin was "Black" or that their native language was Spanish. Before dawn on the 20th of January 2009 nothing was the same, our beliefs where different, our values, who's talking about values, we didn't have values, we where consumed by the greed, and blinded by power, we didn't really know what was our goal in life, we lived like a leaf in the wind. We would walk down streets, and see the homeless and ignore our brother because he was of another colour, we talked about great things, we talked about the "dream" and yet we didn't really understand the meaning of all of it. Before the United States of America, where just merely a word without any real signification .
Before I remember one night, on the red hot streets of Birmingham, two "blacks" where killed just because, for the killers their lives didn't mean that much because they where Black, because as the killers said they where "Negroes", before in the south African-Americans where lynched just because they tried to get a education, all the nation lived in separation, in the nation there where two worlds, one for the "Whites", and one for the "Blacks", one in which all the "American Dream" was a possibility and another where the simple dream of living in nice neighbourhood, in a nice house, with a garden and a dog was an impossibility. Before dawn the American Dream was but an illusion, a abstract thought, something for some, nothing for some others, paradise for some, hell for others.
But in the deep Darkness of night, just before the rising of the sun, a calling came, a calling for the most profound of our souls, probably similar to the calling that called our ancestors to declare independence, similar to the calling that called upon a generation of northerns to sacrifice all for the liberty of their "Black Brothers", a calling that came from a hill, a hill back in 1963 a hill in Washington, a calling that said that the dream was still there, that it wasn't the dream that was giving up on us, but rather us that where giving up on the dream. We tried to shut that damn calling up, and yet the more we tried the louder it sounded, it came like waves, it ask us to believe once again in the possibilities, in what once made this nation, the nation of possibilities.
And in the depths of the dark night that, had consumed our nation a movement was born, a movement that called out the best of us, the best of our values, it ask us to believe, believe that we weren't that different, that really we all just wanted a better life, and better dreams for our kids, that deep down no matter what colour we wear, no matter what god we believe in, our will is the same, our will is in the end a good one, and that together we could brave the dark night, that together we could make the dawn come, and together even one of most impossible of dreams could come true.
And like a blast came the 4th of November 2008, and that day proved us right, that the sun was hided there behind those dark clouds, the 4th of November, was like a rebirth, as if our country was reborn, and us with it. That day changed me for ever, it changed my vision of the world, because before like many of you I believed, that, well that there was no real need to dream big, because the bigger your dream, the harder you fall back to reality, but that day showed me that reality is not an inflexible thing, that's there to keep you down, no, on the 4th of November we made reality, Yes we did.
So on the 20th of January, I will probably cry, come and see if you want but the truth is that there are rare moments, they are rare, because their rarity, is their to prove to us that no matter what, the world still is a wonderful place in which you make and break everything. On the 20th of January all those pessimists with be "shut-uped" once and for all. All those that said that this day was never possible, will know that anything is possible, and all those impossibilities will become possibilities, when Obama becomes the 44th president of United States of America, we like end the terrible civil war that has consumed us since 1864, and with his presidency, together as a people we will reach the promised land.
BELIEVE IT.
Sky
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