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
Saturday 3 October 2009
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
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