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Wednesday, August 16, 2017

I was thinking about Peanut Butter.

I was thinking about peanut butter.

I know it sounds random and slightly irrelevant, but I can certainly *try* to explain myself.

Do you ever have a thought pop into your head at random or after seeing something that sparked that particular thought? Maybe an image. Maybe hearing someone in the distance talking about something in particular. Then, have you ever encountered something relevant to that thought later in the day? For example, someone mentions that aforementioned thing or relative concept that popped into your head earlier. You weren’t seeking it. You weren’t asking for it, but nevertheless, it certainly happened. But Why?

I remember a certain scene in the classic movie Repo Man that relates to what I am talking about. The homeless grungy mess of a character stands next to Emilio Estavez as they talk about things and burn different pieces of trash in an old metal barrel. The grungy character was mentioning how when you think about a “Plate of shrimp” and hear it brought up later in the day deals with the “Cosmic Unconsciousness”. At first this seems “Woo Woo” at best, but when you start to break it down it starts to make a little bit of sense. You can call what you want. You can name it as being a phenomena or quite possibly a “sign from the universe”. No matter what you call this particularly unusual event, when you become conscious of it it becomes even more mystifying and awe inspiring. (in a sense)

This whole Cosmic Thought Relevance Pull seems to maybe be a distant cousin from Deja Vu in way. Think about it. Is the brain just in tune with a certain word or concept brought up earlier and when it recognizes that same concept whether implicitly or explicitly, does it try to ascribe meaning to the event? Or are we trying to construct some type of arbitrary meaning to the conscious observation of what we THINK “our” minds are doing?

I may hear about peanut butter at 8am going to work on the radio in the car.
2 hours later, I may hear about a coworker eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Maybe not directly to me, but my ear catches it as if it was a cry for help in the distance.
From that moment on I am craving peanut butter. I am thinking about peanut butter and all its implications and provocations.

Can I mix peanut butter with Hummus? Would that taste good?
Have I ever tried peanut butter on a frozen banana?
What would lead me to think to tie a “frozen banana” to “peanut butter”?
Weird. Curious. Imaginative. 

Was I in the right place at the right time to hear the conversation about peanut butter?
Please do realize, that I am using peanut butter as an example. This may have happened to you with something like a horse or a plane or even an abstract concept like multi-verses or the Gini Coefficient.

Does it have to do anything with your subconscious?

It’s almost as if these thread of concepts and thoughts were floating in without your control. Without your conscious directive of will or effort. Of all the times these things have happened, it did give me a certain feeling. A certain bodily response that stopped me in my tracks and made my heart skip a beat. As if my curious engines in my head were ignited with passion and motivation. Maybe not so much motivation, but more with the curious intent to look inward and try to piece together meaning or relevance to the jut in the compulsory and cyclical impedance of thought.

What happens when you follow that rabbit hole of that interconnected thought manifestation of coincidental significance? What happens when you follow that “peanut butter” curiosity so to speak? Do doors start opening up for you? Does your perception of your worldview or your “life” start to change? Do you feel like you are being “pulled” by something that is just beyond your reach and your subconscious or something deep within you is trying to nudge you toward an exotic adventure? All magnificent things to ponder and to try make sense of for sure. But what if it isn’t necessarily trying to make sense out of that odd thing?

Once again, why would that thought happen in the first place?
* Think about it without trying to come up with an answer. *

Maybe you were in that right place at the right time?
Maybe your body was craving the peanut butter because it needed some dose of satiety from protein and fat.
Maybe your brain just doing its thing was trying to connect familiar thoughts and concepts within a certain scope of time.

What happens when I consciously try to look for things that deal with peanut butter? Does "me" making an active decision create more conflict in a sense where I am biased trying to look for things that are or aren’t there? If I am constantly trying to look for things relevant to peanut butter, does it not change the feeling and the mysticism of spontaneity and the true presence and uncertainty of what is? Well, that is a very heavy and important question. If I become so conscious of how my brain works to a certain extent, will I eventually find the root *cause* for this cyclical thought blossom of the concept peanut butter?

Why did it have to be peanut butter in the first place? Why couldn’t it be a horse, house or even a mouse? It could have been so many things and I can’t seem to trace the exact reason that thought about peanut butter came into cerebral fruition. Did I just put peanut butter into your head? Are you going into different thought tangents about the many possibilities and applications about peanut butter? Let it sink in...

If I craft my motivational directive to that thought about peanut butter, does it become less of a journey that can lead you towards something else? Maybe something more important. Either way, it began as a thought and I wouldn’t advise getting too attached to it.


Maybe that’s it. The attachment to thought. Maybe recognizing and being aware of that relevant thought in time is a trigger to align with the present moment. It could be the involuntary glitch in that thought loop that allows you to become conscious of how your thought patterns work. Maybe you make a big deal in trying to ascribe meaning to your thought patterns. Do those thought patterns turn into habits? Do those habits turn into routine? Do those routines make you dull and predictable or do they enlighten your life or seem to “improve” it?

I am aware that I am being aware about this thought and reaction to the concept of peanut butter. This awareness of the awareness brings a flooding sense of presence and curiosity. Why would it matter where this weird peanut butter thought web came from? We are constantly bombarded with thoughts when awake and when sleeping. When we become too attached to a thought or thought patterns, we get caught up in our own cyclical compulsion of memory and sensory input. The compulsory cycle of thought turns into a form of psychosis if we start to identify with it and try to manipulate and control it. If you can be aware of how the mind chatters, you can watch it and observe it without getting too involved or swept away by it’s own manifested neurosis.

Maybe the mere thought of peanut butter was meant for me to become more conscious and aware. That seems almost silly and absurd to think about as well. What makes me think that I am so self important to think that this one event could ultimately change the direction of my life and fiber of my being? Well, I can certainly listen. I can certainly be aware of what is happening with my head and allow it to manifest itself before my eyes without trying to “get involved”. What is this ascribed meaning is deceptive or a type of trap? What if I didn’t try to make a BIG DEAL of these weird familiar thought phenomena?

That’s interesting. Familiarity. It seems as if the mind works to try to grasp onto familiarity as a means to keep things in order and maintain a sense of certainty and belonging. Is the brain constantly looking for things that are familiar or even nostalgia. We know what nostalgia makes a us feel. All about that feeling. That loving warm certainty and feeling of familiarity. The mind builds its structure around familiarity because the center is built from memory, thought and the past. So it stores all these images and concepts that are inherently beholden to what has been learned or observed from the past. Very interesting indeed. If the mind gets caught in a thought loop that relates to an overarching concept, wouldn’t it be correct to assume or assert that the mind will ultimately gravitate towards. Familiar thoughts lead to the programmable pursuit of familiarity invented by thought and only contained within the known which is “of the past”.

After all this writing, I am craving a peanut butter sandwich. Possibly, with jelly. But what kind of jelly? Am I only limited to certain jellies that my taste buds are accustomed to or “familiar” with? Do I have a conscious or unconscious bias towards certain types of textured peanut butters and flavored jellies? Such deep and meaningful questions that can have an immense spectrum of hypothesizes and possible answers. Am I being pulled by or influenced by biological processes? Or even my genes??

Shall I let this thought pattern of peanut butter do its own thing or will I try to intervene and thus change it into a completely different thing?


Thursday, August 10, 2017



Drink it in.

The Infinite Chalice of Gratitude.

The ever filling receptacle of thankfulness.

We know now what gratitude can do for us. What it offers us. How it nourishes us. In an act of immediacy we can orient ourselves and our mindsets towards gratitude. Aligning with the present moment and breathing in. Of course you can always be grateful for even the smallest and trivial things. One need not look toward the “positive” aspects of their life to express their gratitude. Some of the best “lessons” have come from the revelation that challenging and heartbreaking experiences open up our sense of awareness and ability to fully experience and feel what is happening for us.

It is the trying times that seem to break through our blind spots and walls that we have put up around ourselves. It is the act of observation. The Observation of the self and the events that transpire in front of us. It is not entirely about choice. When we choose, we tend to hesitate and get in our own way. We can certainly choose to be grateful and thankful in every waking moment. This isn’t a bad thing. Establishing a habitual gratitude reaction to what happens can strengthen the neural circuits within your brain. It doesn’t mean that you wholeheartedly subscribe to a more positivist outlook. Quite the contrary. Establishing a Gratitude Feedback Mechanism Strategy means simply being with what is without pushing back. One can observe the callousness and idiocy of ones self and be thankful for that particular revelation if they are truly in tune with the way they are acting. When they are truly in tune with what is actually HAPPENING.

When I look closer, I can see that gratitude turns out to be a byproduct from being present. Much like joy. When the need to seek or satiate isn’t hovering around in the mind like a gnat, a silence arises which leads to a calm sense of being. From that state, all possible reasons to be grateful are illuminated without will or effort. Without the lust to attain or even change your trivial state of mind of WHAT IS.

The observation of what is happening.

When we are constantly trying to push a “gratitude agenda”, we are using will and effort to benefit the self. It takes a great deal of energy to try to force or mandate a continuous state of gratitude. It is like leashing thankfulness to a pole while constantly berating it to serve us or change our current mood or feeling without actually “FEELING” it. That’s the key. Feeling it out.(( HOW DOES IT MAKE YOU FEEL? ))

We are presented with a huge spectrum of feelings and emotions that are so unique to our own humanity. We can see gratitude much like a flower. We can admire the beauty, the scent and the perfect design of it, but when we try to pick it we are lustful and trying to prolong the beauty for our own neurotic self. If we can simply LOOK at the gratitude flower without association or the need to CAPTURE it, a whole new experience opens up. That is a sense of gratitude that arises naturally without the need to TRY to look at the thing in a certain WAY. It is being aware that we are being aware without trying to be aware that we are being aware.
This cool amorphous substance of gratitude that organically arises from choice-less awareness is Gravytude. Imagine if you will. A gravy like substance that pours over the world around you. A slow and sumptuous flow of thankfulness that is satisfying beyond words and concepts. Yes it is there. You can see it. It is not about choosing to see it. It is  about SEEING it. Don’t you see?

Well does it actually exist? Well not materially. In a way I have already created it if you are reading this. The concept. The idea. This idea of a substance that seems to construct the perceptive fabric of existence and life itself. You and I can imagine this Gravytude in dramatically different ways. When you first saw this silly word, did you think of gravy in a gravy boat? If you did, then why did you? You certainly hold the concept for what gravy is in your brain. Constructed from the architecture of thought and memory. Did you imagine the gravy being chunky white or more of a meager brown? Did your Aunt Sheryl serve your family thick brown gravy at Christmas time? Maybe you established a personal connection with that past experience of gravy. Maybe it did indeed make you FEEL a certain WAY.

Well, we created the concept of gravy so that we can all understand what we are talking about even though there are probably at least 60+ species and genus of Gravy. Notice the nomenclature. The merging of two similar sounding words.

“ You can have Gravy on a Boat,
You can hold gravy in your hand.
It simply tastes marvelous on ham.”

Gravy and Gratitude.
A personal question for me:
How did this rather absurd concept appear in my head? Where did it come from?
Was I looking at gravy? Was I thinking about the IDEA of GRATITUDE?

From what I can remember, ( although this may be casually distorted ) is that it appeared to me without me trying to think of anything. My brain was doing it’s job. I was at my JOB doing the things I needed to do. I remember it popping in my head and it gave me a little dopamine reward. A little curved smile. Certainly, I could search forever to try to see where it came from, but that is of little interest to me. I am grateful for my brain making those synapse fires and connections.

I have built up a trend of trying to pair similar sounding words together in order to craft bad puns and wordplay. This is something I have inherited from my family. It is not something that I necessarily will myself to do. It is part of how my brain makes connections. I am sure my past conditioning is a HUGE part of it. It is fascinating to look at and think about. To ponder on the how and why of the workings of my brain. I am certainly a product of the past. My self is primarily the product of the past. And thought itself of the PAST.

The fact of the matter is is that I didn’t choose for that to pop in my head, but it drew me in. It intrigued me. I wrote it down so I wouldn’t lose it. I Wanted to Capture it and Expand upon it. I wanted to write about it and discover how I could push this idea of GRAVYTUDE.

It stuck in the back of my head. But why? Was it really that important? Well, it was important enough for me to commit time to attempt to sit down and write about it. Was it really all me doing this or am I being directed from a psychological and/or biological force? Where is this piece of writing going to lead me? Am I following a series of steps in a certain direction or am I under the impression that I am in control and I am trying to harness a creative snake and spirit? What is making me ask this? What is pulling my strings to make me think this certain way and use my past experience to craft and semi-coherent piece of writing?

Who knows? I know! Well, maybe I don’t know. In fact, I can factually say that at this point I do not know. Of course, I don’t know more things than I know, but that is beside the point. So many questions. No need to seek an answer. Only a chance to be present and aware. Ok, Now I am aware that I am aware that I am writing. I see that, but am “I” the one being aware or am “I” being deceived. Well in a way, the “I” is an illusion. A creation of identity within the realm of past experience and biological determination. A false sense of self tied to the limits of knowledge and categorization. I understand. Agh!
There I go. Going straight to the “I” again. It will have to do in the meantime. If I try to stop using “I”, that is just the “I” trying to expand itself. It cannot be rid of through will, effort or discipline. That is the “I” acting to attain. It is an escape from what is and a denial of how things are. Disorder and Chaos.

Back to Gravytude.

That Milky and Murky substance that “I” invented.
I can’t really take credit for it. It seems as if it was “gifted” to me. Maybe it was a mistake. Must I be a victim of circumstance?
All I can really say is that I am grateful for it.
Is it meant for good?
Doesn’t matter.
I can take it apart. I can analyze all I want. I can try to find out why it came in the first place. If I place a meaning on it, it deteriorates. If I try to swaddle or strangle it, it goes into its shell. I can observe and I can appreciate. From that appreciation arises a sense of gratitude and maybe even a callously subjective sense of meaning.

Sure, it’s what I think. Well, thought seems more to happen to me. Or for me? Well, how self important of me to think that! It came and it passed and more thought came in. An endless cycle that I can look and be grateful for if I am not caught in it’s own drama and psychosis.

I can feel that gratitude.
I can FEEL that Gravytude.

I can Be.


Tuesday, August 8, 2017

A Dot On the Painting.

A dot on the painting

It was staring at the beautiful blend of colors. The technique was on point. All the right things in all the right places. I could feel it. It was pleasing to all my senses. The gallery was quiet. The temperature was optimal. The sound in the room was at a muted tone where you could really focus in on the beautiful aesthetics around you. I was certainly feeling it.

I sat and stared at the painting for a solid 15 minutes. It was captivating. I couldn't remember an experience like this before. I felt present and alive.

Then I noticed something interesting. A tiny black dot on the lower half of the painting. More towards the right and not too close to the center. Was the dot intentional? Was it paint or some other dark substance? Immediately, I was taken out of the presence I had before hand. I felt as if the “critical bug” had bit me. I was also curious. This one tiny dot seemed to have thrown off my prior mesmerized memorization. It turned into a new experience. This time, something slightly uncomfortable.

It was if my whole world was changed by one tiny thing. One tiny insignificant thing. But was it really insignificant if it has made so much of an impact? It’s amazing how one tiny thing can simply ruin the totality of something else. Much like seeing a tiny fly swimming drunkenly in the glass of red wine you were about 75 percent through finishing. I wanted to regain focus of how I was experiencing the painting before I noticed the dot. Was it even possible? Was that fleeting moment I had beforehand only meant for that specific time in the past?

That’s the thing. I was trying to simply “reproduce” the experience and the supposed mindset I had before I noticed the dot. It was the mind trying to grasp for pleasure. For comfort. For the watered down nostalgic substance of the past. Was I consciously trying to hold onto the mesmerizing experience I had before hand? Was I creating suffering by resisting this slightly uncomfortable experience that came into fruition?

I still appreciated the painting for what it was, but part of me was simple displeased that I could never see it the way I saw it beforehand. I was resisting what is and trying to force a consciousness based on what should be. The thing is is that it will never be the same and that is alright. Was that dot destined to appear in my consciousness and bring about a new sense of awareness that thrust forth an existential quandary? Was my subconscious combing the visual desert in front of me? Maybe I was meant to go to this specific art museum on this specific date at this specific time to experience a proverbial fork in the road or a mildly robust revelation. In any case, I would walk out of the museum with a new “outlook” on perception and life.

When I moved my way through the rest of the museum, I felt a sense of bewilderment as well as an overwhelming warmth of contentment. I didn’t feel boastful or prideful, but I felt more and more comfortable with this ever presence amorphous serpent of uncertainty. This uncertainty that was just out of the reach of my control. Just outside of my current level of consciousness. I didn’t feel the need to try to discipline or condition myself into trying to experience a piece of art the way I thought it SHOULD be experienced. I was allowing thoughts and feelings to come on through without getting too attached to the. I was allowing things to exist as they were and as they are. I wasn’t too keen on trying to take apart of analyze the art around me. Some of them caught me more than others, but why was that. I could have easily been as fascinated in the marble sculptures than the colorful paintings from modern artists. I could have easily been led astray by the vibrancy of the high contrast religious art around me. What was pulling me? What was pulling my strings? Another moral quandary, I thought. Did it really matter what I thought of all this art around me? Did it really matter if it was tasteful or not?

I was out of my head. Not out of my mind. I was out of trying to postulate and promulgate thoughts based upon on my own conditioning and intellect. That was getting in my way. Was I getting in my own way? Well, yes.

The specific pieces of art that drew me dealt more with what I felt and less with how I really “thought” about them. Why would it really matter what I “thought” about them if thought is essentially constrained to the past. Of the past. So I listened. I paid attention to how I felt without the need to judge, criticize or sculpt like a piece of clay.

Did it really matter if it was "good" or "bad" art? Did it make me a feel a certain way? Was I paying attention to that fleeting moment? Was I conditioned to believe what was suppose to be good or bad art by what I was taught in the past? Would that make my perception distorted and disconnected allowing for more conflict?

I came into to see a painting and I got a lot more than I expected. It was an experience. I knew me trying to replicate this experience was silly and absurd. I felt as if I needed it. Did I think I needed it? Well, that could possibly be. (Probably) If I thought I needed it, what would that actually mean? If I became too attached to the thought of “ I thought that I needed it” then that would mean I would be more dependent on that thought(s) hence more constrained to the past. If I was looking for a meaning or an answer in that experience, then I would be fishing for a dead concept formulated in the past. I know that that experience cannot be reproduced with me trying to reproduce it. Will something like it happen again? Maybe. That’s the great thing about allowing things to happen. To allow the impermanence of uncertainty to permeated the presence of which you preside. The presence that we reside in now. Yes, now. The one that exists as you read this.

The dot started out as a slight annoyance. I could have resisted it and let it eat me up inside. I could have let it bounce around in my consciousness like a pinball. The slight discomfort in my awareness started as a seed and sprouted to become a tasty presence plant. From that acceptance of what was, I melded into “what is” without the effort or will of trying to guide it or change it. Did the dot allow me to open up my awareness or did I allow the dot to guide me into the unknown?

I can really only say that I am uncertain if I am certain and that uncertainty will always be certain in every moment of presence.


Monday, July 31, 2017

Thursday, July 27, 2017

The Blank Piece of Death

The Blank Piece of Death

It's right in front me. Just sitting there. The eggshell white gleam of a perfectly perforated piece of paper. A polar bear in the snow. The whale underneath the milky sea. Right in front of me.

I want to make a mark. I want the male to be perfect. Where do I start? Nothing is coming out. Do I try to look at something else for inspiration? That's it! Where's the inspiration? Do I really want to try to copy something? I mean not directly. I can certainly look at what's around me and go from there. Oh, there is also the internet! Hm...

Wait, so where do I make the mark? Do I start in the middle? Alright. Think. It it me thinking too much that is preventing me? Should I focus more? I feel like I have been through this before. Why did I start with a blank slate? Why did I choose to sit down and try to force something out? Ok, maybe I am in my head too much. Let me move around.

12 Jumping Jacks Later *

Alright. I am pumped. Let’s do this!
Here we go. I’m going for it.

*Makes a mark*

“ Alright, how does this mark look?”
Looks Great! I need to make another mark. But where?

*Makes another mark *

I don’t know if this is working. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing. Am I still thinking about this too much? Am I creating this whole whirlwind of madness myself? Oh the tragedy! Oh the horror! Okay, I need to calm down. I’ve been down this road many times before. It’s simple Trial and Error. Everyone starts from a point where they don't really know what they are doing, right?

The thing is. It all starts with one mark, doesn’t it. One word. One Line. Etcetera.
What influenced me to make this line in this one spot? What was pulling my strings when I decided to make such a mark? Did this first mark set the tone for the rest of the piece?

I took action from a thought? Maybe more of a series of thoughts. But what influenced the series of those thoughts? Was it something in my past experience? Certainly, the more and more I look at these marks I made, I can see that they look quite similar to this mango I saw at the supermarket a couple of days ago. The mango was gleaming and effervescent. It was almost as if the rays of god shined down upon the mango through the crude and dusty skylight from up above. It would see that I was in the right place at the right time to witness such a holy fruitful experience. Did this have any influence on the marks I made? Maybe I simply cannot tell at this very moment.

What lead me to use this specific colored pencil? I chose blue. I confess, I think blue is my favorite color. Did I chose blue out of convenience or because it reminded me of something in my past? Maybe I am biologically predestined to like blue by a series of events and genetic markers. It seems like there are a plethora of variables that could contribute to why I chose to pick this specific blue in the first place. I mean the blue was right next to a Razzmatazz. Why didn’t i chose that fun color? The name is so inviting and playful in itself!

Did I chose this paper out of convenience as well? I could have easily chosen something more colorful, but I decided that starting from a white blank slate was the most valuable and accessible. In any case, why didn’t I venture out and make marks on a different material? I feel as if I have been conditioned to make marks on white by what has been taught to me in the past. The color of this white makes the mark pop very nicely. I am not entirely displeased with the fact that I chose this variant of white. But wait... Did I really choose this white paper? Did something else within me choose it because it was familiar? Did my subconscious lead me to pick this piece of paper because it knew what was best for my unmitigated creative energy? Am I thinking too much about this? I would say, yes!

The amount of time I have spent postulating and conceptualizing the why of this situation, I have lost my way of what I wanted to do in the first place. I just wanted to draw. I just wanted to create something unique and fresh, but it seems as if my intellect and my doubts have bubble up to the surface thus distracting me from my original affair. It is almost as if I have nested a nice little place in my pre-frontal cortex.

 Too much conceptualization and not enough action. ACTION! That’s it. I merely need to act without thinking too much. But how do I do that? What is the correct method for this matter? Wait. I am thinking too much about this again. I understand my problem more clearly now. I am getting in my own way. I am focused too much on focusing too much. It doesn’t seem like there is a concrete method. Certainly, I can find out for myself.

Back to the page. I am making this glorious marks. I am feeling this momentum and energy streamline for me. I don’t think I have felt this exuberance before. This magnificent jubilation of unbridled expression. Wait, have I had this experience before? I am thinking about the past again and not with what I am doing.


I made a bad mark. I feel as if my whole composition is ruined. Was this planned? Did I ruin my own flow? Wait. Maybe this was for a reason. This bad mark has made me more conscious with what I am doing. With what I am trying to make. Maybe it’s wrong for me to think that this is a wrong mark or that something went wrong by me not being with the creative energy. Maybe it’s not the best outlook. I can manifest from what is. I can make the best from this moment on. I can work around this flubbed mark without doubt or worry. Much like a jazz musician. There cannot be a bad note if I make it sound like it was intentional. I do not need this one mark to destroy the integrity of the entire piece!

So I make more marks. And more marks. This accumulation of marks has made an interesting picture. It is certainly not what I expected. That make’s it better right? I attempted to let go in some sense of the word. I FEEL like it worked. It LOOKS like it did work. Inside these marks are a history. A history of different thoughts and feelings. A roller-coaster of reactions within the body and within my thought plagued consciousness. A history. An archival ancestry.

All this time I felt like I needed more distraction so I could focus more.
What happened? Why was there so much struggle? Did there NEED to be so much struggle? What made me have such a creative block?
Did the simple of idea that I HAD to sit down to make a picture deter me from making an actual picture? Was it the mere method of the act that spurred the anxiety and frustration within me?

How bizarre. How intriguing. How confusing?
What choices were I actually making?
What things were influencing my reactions in those moments?
What was pulling my strings?

Was this picture made from a blank piece of paper predetermined to look the way it looks right now? Did I even have much choice or guidance in this decision? How much of this picture was actually “ME”?

All I can say is that all this thinking has made me hungry.
I am craving mango.
I wonder why....


Tuesday, July 25, 2017


I Blame Society! (?)

I blame society !

I blame society!
It has been so unjust to my friends and me. Well, my friends and "I". The "I" that I so cling to. So oppressing! But wait...

Aren't I a part of society? Not apart from society? Is it silly to think that I am "not" part of society. Well certainly. I am society and society is me. I am part of this monster that I so fear. Shall I look into the mirror? Pointing the finger. Blaming the “other”.

It's that division. That illusion of separateness. I can give society a name. I can bring it into existence. Well, who is bringing it to reality? Is it really me? Remember that we gave it a name.

So I give this so called society an evil aura. A menacing hat. A disorderly conduct. A set of disorderly conducts. I create a society that stems from resentment. That resentment leads to blame. Why don't I just blame myself? I project what I don't want. If I resist it, it persists. Do you see? Do you see this chaos that I create? This hell of my own manifestation?

If I think this "society" is "oppressing" me then I am certainly appealing to this imaginary and demigod "oppressor". Doesn't that make me inherently dependent on this vile and incendiary oppressor? It deconstructs my individuality to the core. Am I no longer a responsible and reasonable individual? Do I become part of a tribe or sacrifice my individuality for the agenda and unconsciousness of a collective?

Do I create this illusory mask of society out of convenience? Out of ignorance? I can really know what I know now from that I have known. When it comes down to it, I know way less than I thought and what I think I have known is simply unconscious to me and appears to be more “unknown”. From what I know, I know mostly that I don’t know.

Am I biting the hand that is feeding me?
Am I biting my own hand?
How do my fingers taste?

Do I identify as a victim when I blame such disorder in my life on society? Why would I not just take responsibility for my own actions? Why not focus on what's "immediately" around me?

From my thoughts ( the past )
To the area just within my reach.
To the area outside of my reach that I can transport myself to maintain to control.

Like a stone thrown into a lake.
The ripples make no mistake. Outward! They ripple out from a center.
The quality of those ripples depend on how hard the stone was thrown and the mass and contents of that stone. Radiating outward from one spot. From one instantaneous action! Now, what spurned that action? Thought? The involuntary will of desire? Some biological reaction just outside the realm of my awareness?

So you see how these ripples may create society?

As we might see society:

People walking their own walk. Their own path. Their own destruction. Their own distractions. Own little worlds with distorted perceptions.

The potent possibility and probability of people trying to subtly manipulate other people.
A Disastrous Dance of Projection. Some might say.

What becomes of a culture of resentment and blame?
Doesn't it begin with each individual?
At each individuals awareness and consciousness?

There writhes the unconscious serpent that tries to avoid what is and strangle you through aggression towards why should be. This unconscious resentment cannot sit with gratitude with what is. We can give this is a name if we want. If one cannot take responsibility for what is now, then they will be of the past and try to construct an escape from what is.

Remember that we gave it a name.

You create an "identity" when you blame "society",
What a selfish way to gain notoriety,
You see disorder and want more order,
But little did you know,
That trying to fix disorder is somewhat disorder,
From this unconscious abyss,
It's easy to miss.

Fragmentation. Disassociation.
All dealing with the ills of the self. The illusory "sense" of self. A resistance to what is not known. A vulnerability for ideology and unconsciousness to fill in that irritable void.

When one cannot or will not question their internal struggles, they might project and not reflect. So, the external world becomes a manifestation of their own unconsciousness. A reflection of the inner to the outer. So a person who is in such conflict, can only resort to blame and resentment. All of course, remnants of the past not dealt with. Contained within the limited center of memory and thought.

So society as we see it can be based on relationship or lack there of. Starting with the self. The relationship and the self knowledge of one's self. If we cannot have or know relationship with ourselves, how can we have relationship with other? There is the dysfunction and disorder that leaks into this society. Now do you see?

It's the fragmentation of me that creates my view on this so called “society”.
If I can take a look at the "me", and I will inevitably see the disorder and chaos that has been spawned in front of "me".

For if I want to point a finger, I miss the target. (to sin) If I observe the neurosis of the mind in "me", I can see. I can act. Accordingly. From that I can "become"....( be )

From that (be) to (act).
To Act it Out.

A benefit towards myself




Saturday, July 22, 2017

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Aesthetic Cream

Ok, Thirst of All..

Moist Alley

Moist Alley

It smelled stale. It was for sure damp. The old bricks leaked and almost sweated from the sheer mist of it all. It was almost as if the bricks were living and breathing organisms. Like sea cucumbers or an obtusely variant species of urchin. Smells were abundant! Full or vibrancy and effervescence! How both amusing and inviting, but also somewhat off putting. It is certainly an alley of pungent proportions.

It was in its nature. The opposing forces of moistness and the allure of pleasant vibrations shed a new light on mourned existence. Alas, Moist Alley was a place of true mystery and prone to a great deal of nose snubbing skepticism. A skepticism almost academic. A skepticism that resembled the relationship of varnish to paint. It could be said that it wasn’t for everyone or that it was for everyone that didn’t think it was for anyone. A conundrum of great complexity. The mere mention of Moist Alley was enough to have hominids recoil and divide amongst different patterned schools of thought. Personal preferences matched with a subtle and visceral candid veracity. A writhing if you will, of the body and through the various sanitized senses. For the people it attracted, a new adventure awaited right underneath their withering probosces.

The dampness was one thing. It is something to be experienced. No words in mind have come to fruition to try to articulate the sheer magnitude of the dampness. A dampness of great verisimilitude. I have heard that the ratio of the dampness to moistness has been pretty even and that it fluctuated based upon the inherent political climate and humidity regulated by the nearest Chinese food establishment. The dampness almost created an ambiance of Film Noir like murky mystery. A romantic and almost dreary like existence comparable to the shed in E.T. One could say that the floor was wet, but it could also be seen as a mild damp or a mega moist. It gave you a feeling. A feeling as if you were barefoot even if you were wearing a contemporary piece of footwear. Plastic or suede variety. All types of laces.

It brought all of your senses to a wonderful buffet of delight. Every pore on your body was satiated with a type of amorphous bewilderment. A taste you could feel. A feel you could taste. An almost orgasmic dance of senses. It was a portal into the present. An experience into the delights of being human. Almost as if every cell in your body was at a strip mall day spa.

It was a spot of reflection and motivation. A place to escape, but also to venture inward without abandon. A caressing of transcendence paired with a fine glass of acceptance. One step into the alley, you get a little dizzy. One must embrace it. Let it into the meat space of yourself. Like a simmering. The outward moistness is a reflection of the your own inner moistness or dampness. Your ratio of what you reflect is heavily dependent on the moistness that you project.

Are you down with the dampness? The gravy like moistness that oozes through your very being. The lubricated ephemera of modern life. A trip to Moist Alley can be taken anywhere in a sense. Much like a meditation or a malleable type of mantra. You can certainly visit the actual geographical location of Moist Alley, but Moist Alley certainly exists in all of us. Accessible at any moment and every moment. A pleasant gravy float awaits your creamy consciousness. At first Moist Alley seems so daunting, like trying to jump into a close to freezing body of water. It’s like a band aid. One must rip it right off. One must jump into the pool without thinking about it. Without trying conceptualize, intellectualize or methodically try to take what it means apart. When you try to understand Moist Alley, it becomes more and more displeasing to your taste buds. Like a slightly rotting peach in the middle of a summer afternoon. That moist peach pining away. Inviting insects from all around to imbibe.

One must accept this Moist Alley. Without abandon. With the enthusiasm of a young and slightly curious child person. It is the melding of the experience and the experience(r). The cremation of the line between what is and what should be. The dualistic nature of circumstance in concert with the uncertainty of chaos. It seems freeing. Not a freeing that you think. Not a freeing from pain or pleasure, but more of an entrancement of whatever comes. Moist Alley welcomes the vast spectrum of all emotions, feelings and vibrations. It lets them permeate the damp bricks and the slightly soggy bread crumbs. It lets aggression and aggravation slide into the crevices of its own amorphous and impermeable being. The impregnation of energy. The composting of carnal delights and morbid sights. The transmogrification of order and chaos. A balance of pudding like substances.

Are you ready?
Are you ready for the moistness?
Can one ever be truly ready for Moist Alley?

Ready or not.
The Moistness Awaits!


Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

That Butter Life

That Butter Life

Don’t mind me, I’m just living that Butter Life.  The slippery and creamery effervescence combed by a yellowish concoction of gooey existence. Within the realm of pure creaminess, the application of such metaphorical and metaphysical “butter” contextualizes the importance of the permeability and malleability of living a present and rich life.

Oh, you know I put that butter on everything. It goes on that bread of such rich decadence. I spread the butter across all spectrum of masses. All various forms of physical and metaphysical "material". The food and the non-food. The butter enriches the taste of cruciferous vegetables and therefore enriches the taste buds life. That fatty morphing substances enhances the glow of such lucrative digestion. The butter is the transport for the enrichment of plentiful vitamins. Slide it on the asparagus as if you were caressing the limb of a lover. The dance of the knife and the cutter. The groove of the serrated edge and the sharp dairy ledge. It’s the cream of the crop and the deliciousness that won’t stop.

You know it when you slice it. When you lay that knife right down on that moist and decadent surface. You can feel it in your bones. Yes, oddly satisfying to say the least. Such a pleasure to be in that moment. That buttery moment of immense decadence. Are you starting to understand the Butter Life? Are you starting to “feel” what I am talking about?

That sizzle in the pan when you drop the butter in. Calling for your ear buds and taste buds to unite in harmony. All senses are used in totality within this Butter Life. The butter is certainly better when you know the udder from which it was sprung from. When you know the location, it’s even more motivation to seek out that enriched yellow gold that we have already been sold. Blessed be the cow that has given us such pleasure from the birth of butter. That gold from the udder and straight to the mother who will nurture the child. That fatty sensation that has helped feed this nation and give us the strength to move onward!

To butter is a verb. You can butter all the world. It means to glide with the impermanence of life. To be with what is and to add some to sparkle to your biz, when interacting with new experiences! To slide. To enjoy the ride. To relax through the challenges that face us. To butter. To Dance. To Romance. And to Glance. At the strange and beautiful workings of this everlasting existence.

As you are reading you may get this feeling. This feeling of calmness and content. This feeling of warmth like the butter in it’s true form. Not too refrigerated where it gets too “blocky”. We can place a name of this feeling or can we just feel this feeling. Let it pass over us like the newly buttered potato. The baked potato of richness and potential with so many topping ideas it becomes very special. That spice of life. Well, not really a spice. Butter ain’t a spice, but a way of life. Do you see it now?

To butter is to be. Like to really BE. For butter or worse, it allows you to SEE.
To see and be FREE. But what is Free and how can that be? Well let us see...
For the better, you must butter so that there can be no other. No other thing that distorts your mind from another. Do you udderstand? So to butter is the Being of Being with the revealing. The revealing of that which is. So, to better put things in perspective of butter, one must go on and live a “butter” life. A life full of promise and uncertainty. A life that brings about butter upon the unpredictability of crumbling bread type of scenarios. It better be butter if we know now that butter is better.

From one form to another. The solid. The creamy and liquid. Butter takes all magnificent forms. Versatility and mobility. Synchronicity and Electricity! Butter really has no specificity. If it was very specific, it might not be as terrific. To be and to butter. To live and LOVE that Butter Life.

Living that butter night with all potential in sight. Taking that knife and spreading it across your life. With such finesse. With such expression. Being the butter can transport you into another dimension. The dimension of now. So don’t have a cow. Praise the cow for the blessing of a butter life.

Do you think things will get better if you embrace the butter. Do you think that things will work out in the end? Well, I can tell you my friend that every moment you spend with butter will take you to new heights. You will know who you are and how you will go far. Just slippity slide into the butter. You butter believe it or you can leave it, because the butter life is what is and what will be.

Who wrote the book on butter?
It better be butter. It is more butter than butter.
The source of all buttery goodness.

Gotta butter your bread to get ahead!


Thursday, June 8, 2017

Can you see without the me?

Can you see without the Me?

Can you see without the me?
Well, who is me? Who, me?
Well, the me. You know, the me that you identify with. The me that you may see as the I. Are you talking about me? Well, I am talking about a way. Talking more about the idea of this so called “me”. The one that we cling to in times of need. The lens that we see the world with. That me.

Well, how do you see a tree? Do you see the tree with me? Do you see the tree in relationship to your sense of self? Just look. Think about it for a moment. If you see the tree through the lens of the me, you are separating yourself from the tree. The observer creating the idea of the observed. How absurd? You are defining the tree in relationship to me. Do you see? You may not like the shape of the tree or you may try to figure out what kind of tree it is. That is the me! But can you simply just see the tree without the lens of the me? Yes, that’s the question!

The me is your thoughts, your conditioning, your preferences and your ideas. The me is of the past. You are the observer and you identify with it. So, if you look at the tree through the me, you are looking through the lens of the past. You essentially are the past. You are limited by thought and your own conditioning. How wild. So when we identify with this conceptualized past sense of self known as the me, we are distancing ourselves from what we see and setting the stage for conflict, confusion and misery. How clever.

So back to the tree. Can we just see the tree as just the tree. We can see the me can’t we. Well, we can’t actually see the me. It is a concept created from the past. The me is the illusory sense of self and the story we want to believe about ourselves. This is all from the past, subconscious and our conditioning. It’s very interesting to think about. That’s it! The thought of it! The thought of thinking about the me. Do you see? When we think about the me, who is thinking about the me? Is it the me thinking about the me? Ah, you see the trap? It is like the concept of the ego. You know that double headed serpent. That clever ballooning idea that operates on comparison, conflict and separation. Some us want to hard to eradicate the ego, but that is the ego playing tricks on you. That is the “ego” trying to get rid of itself by expanding itself. Oh dear. You see how the ego wants to escape things and search for means to an end. Do you see? So resisting or trying get rid of something is certainly of the “me”. It is the opposite of being present. It is trying to escape from what is! How wonderfully exhausting! How terribly delicious.

So we can see the me, but if we try to get rid of the me or suppress or repress the me, we strengthen that me. The identification with the thought. The resistance to what is.  So, can we see without the me? How can that be? Well, if we are so eager to find an answer then we are not allowing ourselves to discover the unknown. We can only know what we know. And what we know is also what we knew. That’s true. So this knowing is of the past and is BIG part of the “me”. Now you have to see! That’s it! TO SEE! Because when you see, without trying to identify with the me, you are seeing. Not analyzing. Not comparing. Not trying to identify with petty thoughts or with worries on what type of gift to get your Aunt Sheryl. Not trying to go towards pleasure or to escape pain.

That is of the mind.

Yes, your mind. Well, when we say “your” it implies ownership. It is the mind. It is what it is. Yea, yea, you have heard about it. It’s true. So you see the me, now. Is it me seeing the me? Look at it. Who is asking the question? Do you see? Yes, YOU see. You see that me. That me of what you think should be. Those thoughts that you see! Yes, the ones that you see. That’s the me. You see. Observation!


So now do you see that tree?
Now do you see the me?
No, not the me that you think is the me. The me that is of what “should be”.
You can conceptualize all you want. We can conceptualize all we want.
This idea of me. This idea of what should be. This idea of what might be. This idea of what CAN be. But, do we see. Do we see this dysfunction? Do we see this disorder and this suffering? Can we simply sit with it. Can we accept what is?

Do you actually believe your story? The story of me?

Just look. Just see. What about you? What about me?
We can see that that tree is tree from the knowledge of the past. From the concept of the tree. We can label the tree. We can call it beautiful or ugly. All part of the me. Comparing, measuring and analyzing. Without all that mechanical workings, can we truly see? Not ideally see. Not “trying” to see. NOT trying to be....anything.

But can we see? Is it the me asking if the me can actually see? Can we see if it is this “me” that is asking if the me can actually see?


Can WE see without the me?
Can we really just SEE the TREE without the ME?


Thursday, May 25, 2017

UnPoPuLaR OpiNiOnS

Unpopular Opinions

These things called opinions. Those little finicky things that seem to radiate from our mouths like microwaves and plant themselves in social situations both fulfilling and awkward. Are we even really conscious about our own opinions? Do we identify with our opinions so much that it becomes the CORE of our own identity? We may hold similar opinions and contrasting opinions. Some of our opinions develop the friendships and social circles we inhabit. Do you ever think about that?

We get pretty picky with our opinions? We let some out like and anxious cat and hold others in in order to protect our own self image. How silly. We wouldn’t want to upset someone or have the “wrong” opinion now, would we? These opinions are driven by thought. Thought driven by experience and memory. Whether we like it or not, we are conditioned by the past and the environment we have lived in. It sculpts the way we see the world. Most of it is in our programming. You know. This subconscious concept we so like to spat about at bars and dinner parties. It runs below your general awareness and influences your distorted perception. The distorted lens of the past. It builds your sense of self, which is a product of time. This sense of self that thrives off thought and is driven towards security and pleasure. The desire of the me. The desire to define yourself by the past and your opinions.

Are they your opinions? Do you own them? Where do they come from? Well, your conditioning and level of awareness of course. When you say “my opinion”, you are identifying with thought. You are operating under a mechanism of division. Division that comes from the sense of self, mind, and the “I”. Identifying with your opinions is an act of unconsciousness. It is an act of past experience. It is putting up walls and creating a sense of self that is limited from the past. “Your” mind creates an image from your conditioning. Your programming. Get it? From that image comes conflict and division.

What happens when we simply watch these opinions and don’t identify with them?
How much of “our opinions” are just based on imitating other people’s opinions?

You like and dislike, but what does it mean? You have your own bias. Your bias is showing. Your conditioning is revealing. You are projecting your own ideals. You are separating yourself from what is through thought. Through the lens of distortion. Through the lens of the past....which is dead.

When you observe and not try to lustfully grab or vehemently push away what you oppose, you allow for a new sense of space. This sense of space is not tied to thought, your conditioning, or the sneaky serpent of the past.

What happens when your opinion is unpopular?
When your opinion doesn’t match the status quo.
When your opinion is so against the grain of what society is comprised of.
Do you hold it in? Do you keep it to yourself?

God forbid people not like your unpopular opinion. Do you curtail your opinions to appease the others around you? You must fear isolation, no? You must fear losing some of your friends or your status?

“Popular opinions are a stagnant pond that invites the mosquitoes of dullness and mediocrity.”

Our minds seek security through thought and opinions. Some of the opinions that we consider our “own” are most likely regurgitated from people that we admire or even trust. We like “their” opinions so much that we bring it into our own sense of self. We mimic the behavior we want the most for ourselves. This mimicry of behavior feeds the “me”. It feeds the desire mechanism in our brain. That desire mechanism is programmed to get away from “what is” and go towards “ What should be” or what we “think” we should be. It sculpts our world view and creates conflict within ourselves. It fragments the illusory sense of self.

I mean how much of our meaty identity is compromised of what we think of the world around us and ourselves? Do we ever investigate that without trying to find a quick answer or a solution? Do we ever take the time to step back and watch the mind without trying control it or pick and choose what musical playlist we want to listen to on Spotify?

Our identification with opinion makes us mechanical and dull. We corner ourselves in our own comfortable biased blanket fort and try so hard not to break our routines. We like what we like and don’t like what we don’t like. We don’t question it. We let be suit we want to wear and parade it out when we are out in public. I mean isn’t it precious? Your opinion? What makes YOU want to HOLD onto your opinion so much? After all, you have your own opinions and your friend or significant other has his or her own opinions. Big deal, right?

These opinions are a rejection, ( a form of resistance )
An effort or violent will brought about through thought and fragmentation,
We can put up our own fences and walls.
We can create conflict by trying to choose what we like and dislike.
We can reject what is,
We can decorate our own smelly echo chambers.

We see it in the feed. The constant barrage of opinions in CyBeR SpAcE! People posting things they don’t even think about before hand. How interesting! What is pulling their strings? What forces within them are making them be so opinionated? Making them be so divisive and ideological?

Is your worldview better than my worldview?
Well how SMUG of you!

How amazing thought is. How amazing we seem to get trapped in it like a fly in a spider web! Most people are in a psychosis of thought. They don’t even know it! How bizarre. How macabre. How beautiful?

Your opinions ain’t you. I can assure you. Am I wrong? What’s your opinion on this matter in 141 characters or less? But what are you? Are you actually you? Do you have an opinion on this? Well, do you? If you do, then why? Don’t you see that you are missing the point? Don’t you see the beautiful contradiction? The beautiful distraction? Can you see that tree over there without trying to name it? Without trying to see if it is beautiful or not? Without trying to compare it with the other trees around it?

Just a thought....but is it just a thought?

Does that thought exist? When you are looking at that Camry, can you see the car for what it is and not be reminded of that time you sat in the back of your uncle’s camry when you were 6 and threw up all over the backseat because you drank a slurpee too fast? You see your conditioning now don’t you?

Oh, here comes another thought. Do you see it? Does your mind create images of that thought? Just look! No need to conceptualize or theorize. How silly!

So, what is your opinion on opinions now?


Thursday, May 11, 2017

Composting the Past

Composting the Past

The past. It looms. It exists within our thoughts and memories. The thoughts that are the response to memory. The response to past experience. Some of us feel trapped from the past. Not truly in the present. Trapped in an almost psychosis of thought.

What can the past do for us? How can we try to be more present and not be so beholden to the past. Well since the past has “passed” and only exists within the realm of our own neurons and dendrite matrices, we can understand that the past is encapsulated in a cyclical pattern of compulsory thought. Thought that begets thought. Thought that can change the chemical composition within your body at each moment.

It’s the reactions. The reactions to the thoughts that matter. What is the moment before those reactions? How do we deal with them and how does it feel? Before that reaction exists some type of juicy stimulus. An amalgamation of experience and biological processes. This past that we conceptualize does not exist. It is not with “what is”. Our mind uses knowledge and experience to construct thoughts and images of with what was. The old. The mind can only act with what it knows and through the cyclical nature of thought. The compulsory nature of thought. Let it be known, that this past has passed and it is only conceptualized through the concept of psychological and the “theorized” time that constructs the self!

We can look at the past as if it is almost part of nature. Part of a grand landscape of vines, trees and creatures. The trees will shed their leaves across the seasons. The bare branches will bare new leaves. The dead ones fall to the ground and decompose and feed all wonderful bacteria and scavenging creatures. It is part of the cycle of life. ( As Cliche’ as that sounds) The energy transfer from life to death. Where life feeds the way for death to bring more life. The cyclical processing of matter to perpetuate its own magnificent existence.

How does thought relate to nature and natural processes? Can we see the parallel of the beauty of nature and the architecture of thought and conceptualization of the past?
If thoughts are like the cycle of decomposition and the cycle of life present in nature, can we attempt to compost the past? Can these thoughts that are the response to memory and the imprint of experience come to serve us and make us more “present”? If we see the past as a dirty compost heap, can we use the past to reseed new potentiality and perspective for the present and future? Think about it. If we see thoughts as leaves that have fallen from the tree and are decomposing to make the way for new life and organisms, can we see anew that isn’t tied so much to our past? Of course we can use knowledge to simply learn from our past. That is part of it. That is part of the decomposition/ composition process. Even the bad parts of our past, which are essentially images made my thoughts and memory, can seed the present without attachment to what was.

If we can turn that hot compost heap of the past, and take it to plant new experience without a specific agenda, we can open ourselves to discovery. Discovery of the unknown. Discovery of what is. The beautiful vibrant “what was” flowers will die and make room for a new host of magical fungi. The dead bird will feed and nourish the scavengers and worms and return the necessary energy back to the ground. What are we planting in our mind gardens? What can the fertile soil bring? If you can take all the “bad” parts of your “past”, you can grow some hefty and vibrant flowers? Think about manure. You can grow amazing food from that cow dung. You can grow amazing tulips, daffodils and the like! This is what your self perceived past can do. It can inform you. It can make you grow. The plants that seed. The seeds that will grow from the all the dead things! That’s it precisely! Thoughts are dead things because they are from the past. They are old and known! In order to grow, you must see it for what it is. See how it works!

I’ve heard somewhere...

“Flowers grow from sh*t!”

Cyclical. Cycles of Impermanence. These flowers don’t last forever.
Lettuce compost the past! Bury it. Turn it. Spread it and leave it be.
When it’s ready, spread that compost into the soil of the present.
Let the dead nutrients nourish your present plants!

All the trauma. All the drama. The thoughts, memories and knowledge.
They can all go into that smelly heap and mix and mingle. Move around and mutate.
Magic or not, they will break down. Breaking down for the new. Laying out for what is.

Life goes fast.
Or at least that is what we "think",
Thoughts of the old and nostalgic,

Here you and there you were,
Here at least and here at last,
Breathe it in and let it grow,
It’s time to...

Compost the past.


Tuesday, May 2, 2017

On Narcissism

In defense of Narcissism
On Narcissism

What’s the big deal with narcissism? The term seems to be thrown around like a dirty sock constantly missing a white hamper basket. In this society, we see narcissism as being vile, negative and deconstructive. Rightfully so? “We” think narcissists just don’t care about other people and only care about themselves. Do narcissists deserve such a bad rap?

If we really look at narcissism, we can see that it’s something rather particular. It involves a certain type of body chemistry and compulsory thought neurosis that creates what we call a narcissistic person. We think that they are full of themselves, but maybe they are just bigger mirrors for our insecurities. Do narcissists need more attention than what they are getting or craving? Are narcissists just children crying inside reaching out for help?

Aren’t we all a little narcissistic? We all have some type of self interest. Some of us have more “radical self interest” than others. We want to work on ourselves. We compare ourselves to others, judge and condemn others we find displeasing and abhorrent. Does it make us particularly narcissistic when we start placing our needs before others or we align ourselves on some type of benign moral hierarchy? Maybe narcissism is a signpost of unconscious suffering. Is narcissism just a wall put up for people to escape certain past traumas? We are trapped in our own heads and trapped within our own limited thoughts and “knowledge”.

Is there anything morally wrong with being a narcissist? A narcissist may be so involved or “full of themselves” that they isolate themselves from society, but they don’t exist in a vacuum. They may talk at you instead of with you, but they still depend on the good nature and labor of others. Narcissists could not survive in an environment of isolation because they would be deprived of attention and have no incentive to inflate their illusory sense of self. A narcissist is much different than a sociopath, because a narcissist may still resemble certain attributes of empathy and compassion. Most narcissists will have some type of thing or person they are passionate about.

The fact that we can so easily identify and scorn someone as a narcissist, means that we are not willing to listen to what is really happening within us. The labeling comes from the minds work of dividing and fragmenting. From this fragmenting, comes a sense of conflict. When we are so eager to give a label, we strip the humanity from the individual we are scrutinized. So when we can paint with a broad narcissistic brush, we are hurting more of ourselves than the people we unconsciously categorize. We drive ourselves further into unconsciousness when our mind thrives on categorical division fueled by thought. Are you listening to me?

If we call someone a narcissist, are we merely subconsciously displaying a reflection of our own narcissistic nature? Is our own “ego” inherently narcissistic? Can we really tell is we are being narcissistic if we aren’t really conscious of it? If we assign the concept of narcissism on a spectrum, aren’t we fragmenting it from thought? Aren’t we placing it on  levels of division comparable to an Us vs. Them false dichotomy? Who is to say that one person is more narcissistic than the other when you can only see narcissism from a fragmented viewpoint based on compulsory thought and their own conditioning? Are you still listening to me?  Are you listening to THEM?

Why not let Narcissists be Narcissists? Why try to scorn or change their behaviors? Want to help? That’s great, but maybe it starts with listening to ourselves first and observing what actually is and not what “should be”. Maybe it involves the abandonment of debilitating labels and prejudice. Do narcissists need help or do we need help in attempting to understand why they are narcissists in the first place? I mean, do narcissists even exist?

Narcissism = Compulsory Thought+ Chemical Imbalance+ Conditioning from the past+ Memory+ Disorder+ Neurosis

When you identify with the “I”, you are identifying with a false sense of self. A self that is based on the mind and division from the observer and the observed. This I is self contained in compulsory thought that makes you unaware and confused. That compulsory thought creates a type of psychosis that feeds on its own dysfunction and disorder. When we separate and categorize, aren’t we being inherently narcissistic. Aren’t we dividing ourselves with comparison, and resisting what is and the possibility of  relationship and “compassion”?

How many times do you say “I” in a day? Who is saying “I”? Are you even conscious of how many times you say “I” in a day or in a minute? It can be in your head or voiced out from your vocal chords. It’s that voice that your mind produces. It is the voice that is conditioned from your past and memory. Is someone really at fault if the don’t know what they are doing or why they are doing it? Is a narcissistic a victim of his or hers own unconsciousness/ consciousness?

Can you truly be a narcissist if you are really aware that you are a narcissist?

When labeling someone as a narcissist, are we moving away from what is to what should be? Instead of helping or inquiring deeper, are limiting ourselves from observing and understanding what is? What stops us from embracing a person for who or she actually is? How they exist in that very moment. Why they act the way they act. Instead, our mind categorizes,shuns and acts upon our preferences that are conditioned from our past. It is easy to label and move away from people when they don’t meet our petty standards brought about by thought and memory. What good does it do to write people off? How does it feel in our bodies? Does it make us feel uncomfortable? Do we feel better about ourselves when we compare our own delusion and disorderly unconsciousness to other people? That’s the ego, right there. The thing that constantly thrives off the conditioning of the past and compulsory thought. Thriving off of confusion and disorder.

What good does it do to call people narcissists? Think about it. What good does it do for you? Does it further your own isolation and division from the people around you? Does it make you more receptive to continually making callous labels and accusations? Does it bring you any peace or any solace? How does it make YOU feel?

Look, I might not be the smartest bug on the rug, but I can tell you that I am a pretty good thinker. I mean I might be better than you. I don’t know. I mean what is wrong with thinking that I am better than you? Am I hurting you? Am I creating more suffering or isolating myself from you? I respect you. I really do. I find that you compliment me quite nicely. I find that I am pretty good at driving. I am a safe driver. Unlike you. I have seen you drive. It makes me scared, but I am safe. So how does that feel? How does it feel to be not the best driver compared to me? See what I am getting at? Are you still listening? Alright.

I was looking in the mirror the other day and I was just adoring my hair. The way it waves and the vibrant color. It is almost as if the hair has a mind of its own, but it is still part of me. It is my hair. I can do whatever I want to my hair and I would have to say I put in quite a bit of effort trying to make this hair look miraculous. It compliments my beautiful eyes and my vivacious chin. You know, I was mostly born this way, but I also have a pretty good exercise regiment and diet. Have you been keeping up with my blog posts? I think they are great? I mean I could improve, but I think that I am a pretty good writer. I am doing great even when others think I am doing poorly. Why does it matter what they think? That is THEM and this is ME! ME! Me, I tell you! Well enough about me, how about you? But wait, one more thing. I don’t have long to talk, I have a lot of important things to do and I also have a hair appointment in the morning. Sorry to cut things short, but I really ought to go. I know we can catch up later, please give me a call or send me a message, I get pretty busy and it’s hard for me to make time to make the first move. I know what you’re thinking. I could be better at planning, but look at this new planning app I just downloaded. Isn’t it great? Well look at the time, have a great night!

How does my hair look now?


Thursday, April 27, 2017

The Sandwich of Knowledge

The Sandwich of Knowledge

There it is. The sandwich of the Knowledge. The ever seeking and the ever stacking.
It exists within us. Within many forms in our own minds. We all have our own particular sandwich preferences. The sandwich wants to continually seek for that knowledge. The knowledge of the outside world and the knowledge of the self.

This is how you stack it. This constant seeking for knowledge means more and more layers of stuff to add to it. Never ending layers you might say. You see, the sandwich//the mind are using knowledge to modify itself. It still exists as the same form, by the accumulation of knowledge and the will to expand. It can only stay within it’s own conceptual relevancy. Get it? It still exists as a sandwich of knowledge because there will always be the restraint and restriction of the bread that exists on the top and bottom of it. The Sandwich of Knowledge wants to continually modify itself to adapt and help survive and proliferate its own existence.

Sometimes the contents of this knowledge may fall and fade away or simply be replaced with something new, fresh and decadent. Sometimes the old the remnants of the old contents will get tucked away or pushed down in order to make room for new sensory knowledge input. We can keep acquiring, but the mind will do its best to use what is best and what is most relevant for what is needed at the time.

Sometimes we see knowledge as a means to sound more “knowledgeable” in a social setting. We may pimp out that sandwich for the benefit of trying to make ourselves seem more orderly, presentable and darn right interesting. What does this do to serve us? Can we just access the different knowledgeable contents for the times that we “think” we need them? When does this concept of knowledge become more of a storage unit for memories and tidbits that tickle our own fancys?

How do you stack it?
Is your Sandwich of Knowledge a Giant Stuffed Reuben?
Is your Sandwich of Knowledge more of a basic grilled cheese?

Our mind wants to keep accumulating knowledge to prop up our “sense of selves.” We may not even be totally aware of its own workings and manipulations. We can question it all we want. We can divide ourselves from this concept of “the mind” all we want, but none of us will bring us closer to what we see as “the Truth”. Sure, we may be able to spout out facts and give out analytical answers to topics and questions, but this knowledge that we hold is all based in thought and thought is rather limiting since thought begets thought and works in cycles and patterns. This Sandwich of Knowledge may look delicious and taste wonderful, but it cannot not radically change itself to become something it is not.

So it doesn’t really matter how many toppings, layers and ingredients we add to the sandwich because it will still remain a sandwich. Do we need to change that? Can’t we just see the Sandwich of Knowledge for what it really is? What more can we really know? Do we even need to know more? What is left to know? Do we even really know?

It’s ok to say I don’t know, certainly. It’s fine to look at how the mind likes to store tidbits, facts and platitudes. It may bring the mind great comfort and satisfaction. We can separate ourselves all we want from the Knowledge Seeking Mind, but that won’t change anything. That will divide us more and more from what is actually happening and just create more conflict. Is this making sense? Just let it be. Embrace that there is only so much we can know at every waking moment. This is how we act. This is how the mind acts. We can only know what we know when we know it. It is a product of time. You cannot have knowledge without time. This is what we know and this is rather interesting.

So the mind seeks for things that is does not know and attempts to use what it already knows to adapt with the outside world and construct your own illusory sense of self. What happens when we don’t know something? Do we immediately gravitate towards things that we might know? Do we immediately gravitate to answers or solutions to the “ I don’t know” statement? If you don’t know about these questions, then that is great. Sit with it. When you see the immediate reaction to try to escape the “I don’t know” state, you will see how the mind wants to try to keep within the realm of the known and try to appease itself with answers that it may think will add to the overly stacked Sandwich of Knowledge.

“ We can only do our best with what we KNOW at the TIME.”
Constant Learning. Constant Collecting. Constant and Consistent Thought Patterns.

We can bite from the sandwich and enjoy its flavor all we want. We can look at with salivary lust. We can embrace it will total joy and hunger.  Is it about the more we know? Is it about the more we want to know? Can we ever act or see out from what we know already? Can we see without trying to analyze while being bound to compulsory thought and the past?

The Sandwich of Knowledge thrives on thought. This is what it knows. This is how it is built. Can we know what it is like to step out of the binding cycle of compulsory thought? The sandwich certainly likes to feed on itself. To reference itself and to make you “think” about the knowledge you already have. You knowledge will be added to in every new interaction and discovery. You will accumulate it like you accumulate bad jokes and puns. It gets stored in your memory. Memory that is conditioned from the past and processed with old experiences and thoughts. What we know can help us and what we know can send us into new territories into the “unknown”.

Can we know and live without being so constricted to what we already know?
Will we know what it means to experience the “unknown”?

I don’t know.


Tuesday, April 25, 2017

I am content generator.


I am content generator.
I am a* content generator.

I create images both satisfying and inquisitive. I disperse them like apple seeds across the digital and IRL landscape. I package them in nice digestible bites and upload them to the noise of the daily grind. That daily life of constant content. That daily attachment to compulsory thought. I contribute to the constant expression of fear, desire and doubt. I process what comes in my mind and blend it into a more coherent and inquisitive type of cerebral drink. I do this for myself and I do it for YOU.

I must be consistent. I must spread my content consistently with great discipline and vigor. Is the content directing me or am I directing the content? Do I think that my content has any specific significance? Do I think that my content is better than YOUR content?

I dare not compare, for my content is that of my mind and my conditioning. I filter through my own lenses. My sense of self conditioned by time. Conditioned by the past. Conditioned by what seems to catch my eye and hooks my brain. That deliciously decadent brain candy. That neural satiation and cerebral satisfaction. Cream of the crop, where my content floats to the top.

Maybe you will like my content. It is mine after all. I am attached to it. It is part of me, at least I think. What is your reaction?

It’s true. I may get lost in the noise. Lost in the feeds and lost in the constant scrolling of humanoids. Most of my “stuff” doesn’t see the light of day. Some of it I let it out as if it is an experimental dog thing that may or may not disturb you or poop in your yard. It’s all part of the process, trust me. All the bad stuff and all the good stuff. The bad stuff makes the good stuff look better and the good stuff makes the bad stuff look worse. I embrace that. I am ok with not doing my “best” during times of stress and duress. It makes content generating that more fun! Content generating is the like the bees knees of tragedy and the gunk between the eyes of beautiful frogs. The frogs that croak and fetch the golden ball for the princess. You know the story.

It’s the yin and yang. The light and dark. The siren’s call and the dog’s bark.
The content is ephemeral, amorphous and ever changing. The change is constant isn’t it? The change is inevitable they say. Content will be here. Old content and new content will fade. Content will be composted and redistributed. Content will exist as long as their is thought.

I am content with content. Am I content with content? I am not too sure. I shall investigate. I shall allow the content to come out. It shall please some. Some will go unnoticed. That is the nature of the game. That’s how you learn. You learn to make better content from how the older content is perceived. Maybe you learn a little bit more about yourself. Maybe you learn more about your process and how you choose to make content. We can make content within the comfort of our own home or make it with friends at a coffeehouse. So many opportunities and so many ways to make content.
How will you make content?
How will your content change?
Do you enjoy generating content?
Do you enjoy absorbing content?
Does the absorption of content make you make better content?

Some things to ponder. Some things to juggle in that head of yours. Things all around you. Images in your head. Images from the chasm of social media. Images from the passenger side of your best friend’s ride.

I am content generator.
I will keep making content with or without you. 
Am I simply a reflection of my own content?
Am I content?
Am I content?


Tuesday, April 18, 2017

What Makes It CheeZy?

What makes it cheesy?

What makes something cheesy?

We all have different perceptions of what cheesy may look or feel to us. We may see something as hokey, annoyingly witty, or quite frankly “eye rolling”, but what really makes something cheesy?

Is there an unwritten spectrum of cheese? If something is more cerebral, serious and artistic, does that mean that it cannot be cheesy? Do we see being cheesy as something that is overplayed and cliche? If we assign cheesiness to a spectrum then it must mean that there are different scales of cheesy severity. One person could see a movie that seems to be formulaic, as cheesy. When we write something off as being “done before” does that necessarily make it cheesy?

One might think that something is cheesy in order to get a quick look or a laugh. By using a cheesiness strategy, one can mimic things that he or she has seen as cheesy before. It may be a way to make a quick buck or even get a few scoffs or laughs from the process. Does this demean the value of the process of the “art”? Certainly, we can have successful art that might be seen as cheesy at the same time.

We may like movies from our pasts that give us a sense of nostalgia. That sense of nostalgia is tied in with the concept of “cheesiness”, is it not? It may remind us of a an awkward time from our pubscent stages of life. Think, ChumbaWumba. You know, the album TubThumper. Or even SmashMouth. If you grew up in the time of these wonderfully decadent bands, then you can see that their music might come off as being a little cheesy nowadays. Back then, your developing mind might have enjoyed it more because of the pop culture that seeped into your brain and the “cool” crowd you hung around. So if we look at it, cheesiness is inherently dependent on the passing of time. One cannot necessarily see something as cheesy unless they have had experience with what they are comparing as cheesy. You compare with memory. The memory is of the utmost necessity of facilitate the cheesiness factor.

Seems Gouda to me.

" Does it have the Resounding Cheese Factor? The potent smell of infinite potentiality?"

So when we recognize something as cheesy, we might just write it off and move forward, but if we enjoy the cheesiness of things, we get a new value from it. A new lease on life. We may start to look for things for the direct intent of seeing of cheesiness it is. Just because something is cheesy, doesn’t mean that we have to throw it away like late Jack in the Box tacos. You hear me?

Some people may see Huey Lewis and the News as cheesy, but you have to take it in context with the time it came out. It was for sure cool when it was blasted out on the air waves. Think about it. I for one, like the music of Huey Lewis. I find it compares to a fine aged cheddar. Great taste and a great texture. Really cuts to the taste buds. I think that his music is great and that when you can reminisce about the era it comes from, you can develop a new sense of appreciation.

Maybe seeing something as cheesy and shooing it away like spoiled a spoiled meat fly is a reflection of our insecurities.

Some of you may feel guilty for liking cheesy things. That is not too healthy. You need to embrace that cheese. Rub that wiz all over your biz. If you catch my drift, brieother. I swiss we could embrace the holy cheese with great courage and integrity! I mean why not?

“ One must go for Full Cheese Factor, where you go all the way, man. You just go for it and push that cheese to the limits. Pushing them cheese boundaries to unthreaded territory.”

So we see...

Cheese comes from the product of time.
We look back from memory and may see it as being cheesy because it doesn’t fit in with the culture of today. So we think it is overdone and overplayed and we point our noses towards the sky.
When we don’t judge or condemn the cheese, we can observe it. Observe and ask questions of why we are ignoring cheese. It is the refined value. That taste palette that we can expand and grow. Through the embrace of cheesiness, comes a new form of spontaneity and flexibility. You can have fun with it. Play around with it. Heat it up, mix it up and put it on some sandwiches.

“ Cheesy Plasticity forms a variety of cognitive and culturally sensitive benefits and rewards.”

Don’t let cheesiness discourage you. Don’t let it taint your sense of value.
Let that cheesiness stink. Smell it with a dainty waft. Soak it in, player.

Sure, you can have your snooty high class things you like, but you can also make a little room for that cheese in your life. A little room for you to appreciate and learn from. Think of the many opportunities that can open up if you just open up your arms to cheese. People can relate. You will attract the other cheesy peeps. The cheese can bring people together. The cheese can bring the fun.

Smell ya later.


Saturday, April 15, 2017