Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Forced Into Noticing
I started developing notions of my life ending, after I saw deaths take place in front of me. I was forced to notice for the first time, how life ends abruptly. Rudely cruelly without giving an inclination of what we had to fulfil.
I took a journey to south america. I wanted to meet a so called master who could help me transcend this vague yet gnawing sense of impending doom. I was a no body in my day to day city life. I was without attention – almost just funding my journey from a day to another. Given the respite of the forgetful night. I was zoned into this maze structure of cities and buildings. Never leaving one, never realizing the outside world at play.
I landed up somewhere in peru, a friend of mine introducing me to a brujo. A person with so called mystical states of being. A control over space and time. I was open to new beliefs. Cause my own belief system was so superfluous and benign. It was not dedicated to help me break my notions of purpose of life, or even death.
The brujo, small and dark, as south Americans would be; We could not converse cause of lack of similarities in language. He looked at me without concern, why would he be bothered I knew. But did he know anything was my concern.
I trekked with him, it looked like all he did for a life was trek. I was amazed at this, I never could fathom people would waste their precious time such, I was not understanding perhaps what he did or could do. I was open to such notions now, probably after 4 decades of my life over – but with the opening up of deaths taking place traumatically. I wanted to know what my future was to look like. Maybe he saw this determination, he gave me weird food and we trekked for 2 days without stop. My friend departed mid way and it was him and me – without semblance of any cultural or lingual unity. I wondered what the strange person could do to me amidst the scenery.
The scenery is peruvian, its ancient and complete with hills and thick jungles. Its rainy and misty. Its cold and maybe a bit sticky. But its complete and lovely. My foot hurt as we set upon an ancient burial ground for his colleagues? His friends or people of his tribe? I really did not know anything about him, was he a man who ran away from cities just like me some years back? hiding away from the grim realities of what he might have done, or the world did to him?
He looked at me with awesome speed as I was mentally rehearsing to ask him something pertinent through sign. He spoke in cold definite english with delight – “ Take off your shoes you idiot. This is a garden of delight. Come and vanquish your brain as I make you insane”
I could not fathom this. The sight covered in ancient mounds big enough for men to sit and be covered around by rock – He looked at my eyes, He saw the huge trees covering nestling this ground atop a tiny hill. He was atop one of them?? What the fuck was happening.
He saw my plight, and he touched my back – my spine and then plucked a flower from the side. “Eat it son, You are fucking dumb. Let nature be your guide; for I cannot spend my time anymore on you. But if you bring to attention – then you shall definitely see our play”, and he was looking at the mounds and perhaps the trees so thick and tall at the same time.
I ate the leaf flower, blue yellow in color. My nights vanquished in true horror, as I saw what the brujo meant. His eyes becoming intense with twilight. He was sitting cross legged like he was to be covered himself in this rubble – and as I thought this – He smiled.
“Yes I am to die, You are a fool that you tried to escape to find a way to cover or work around it. You have fallen right into its trap, come and put rocks around me before I transmigrate into my totem under the moon light – then you really will die! Come cover me and see the show. Its not going to be useful to run. We are covered~”
This english, so polished, and as I covered him with rocks from around slowly – he chanted a beautiful song, nature covering him whole as he did. His eyes on the tree tops. He spoke to me
“See the joy in living, See what it is to be free, you think of despair when you die or see those you love die – but when you connect with her. The mother of life knows only how to kill what she has destroyed to feed what is alive. This is true mercy, joy of another kind. Nature builds you to fuel you to burn you alive!”
and he started laughing with this like a mad man in ecstasy. The steps of my ruin, I started to understand what he just said to me in so few words; My healing was to find a way to tolerate this jungle which i was forced into noticing! The second time! Jungle showed me varied life, it showed me carcasses of those not lucky to have survived. This entire breathing building – ecological and organic was something which had been sustaining itself and growing over time! This was supreme example of being alive (by dying and sacrificing for another!) There was no such example of a master alive. This is what the brujo had meant to me, when he said let nature take care. I understood his intent,
He was covered in small rocks all around. He told me to go a particular direction where I would find another ground. He spoke to bury myself or with help – for a year in time, when he could come get me. If i survived, maybe another year. If i did not. He would see me all the sooner!
I did without question, gave my life away. Nature has been a hard task master yet a mother without any respite. Loving smothering me into her lap of life. I wait silently for the day where I will crackle like the ancient trees falling in sheer delight. When I would set myself free to the sun, to take rebirth from the manna of dark matter – causal natures endlessly creating life.
Peace and Joy!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Expunge Your Self
The Blossoming (Intelligent Design)
Take a look - every single person you admire or know of (famous dudes) are known and admired cause they have created something (similar to a god), and we spend umpteen attention and time to awe at such creations - be it a plane, a nuclear reactor or a work of art. We feel good to feed the ego and admire what we create as if it was something which could not be duplicated. Yet it is, not in an absolute sense - but yes it has all been already created before *You want to know the proof - then take a deeper look at yourself*
The heart chakra knows it all, it is the collective center of power and consciousness for this entirety. The heart chakra creates the true sense of union and communion for uniting and experiencing this awesome state. It is here where we realize that though we are individuated we are in the garb of being separate - yet we are really one of the clogs of an intelligent design. Of natural design. This we call as nature/prakriti/eco and bio systems for this planet.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Shine On You Crazy Diamond
Pink Floyd and their crazy interpretations. Such surreal wisdom through the power of language (music and sound) have been communicated and experienced. Music indeed has made all of this come true.
Music and its notes, which are to be heard and not learnt. They are renditions of this ancient universe’s imprint. Perhaps its unique to this universe and the way it breathes and exists. Through noise and then through form. Energy manifesting like a crazy diamond out of the fire.
Hidden alchemy of the mystics is exactly what music also achieves. Alchemy transforms the nature of everything it incorporates. So does mystic music. Energy vibrations which one of our senses can appreciate to some extent (we really cannot hear much frequencies) – makes the energy feel itself to being alive!
I am a crazy diamond, going to be forged in the extreme fires of chaos. I am the shining star who is going to sing my days and dance my nights away. I am the chosen composition which has decided itself to be! celebration! and path to silence! (what a beautiful action which music plays!)
So lets strum the notes, blow the conch, beat the drum. Please play music all the time. You can see the effects of this sexy crime. Please Believe me, elevate it, what you got and not! You will yourself through this vibration celebration divination of life musica. So start the show and exude it so….
Poets of Fall
Manifold Damage and caustic burnout. The limp, capitalistic princes all keep falling from their towering palaces; climbing their entire lives away, the poets drinkup and vomit out their rage (aren’t all of us sad poets of our lives?). The lives of commoners now very common indeed. All looking to climb the staircase to somewhere? (climbing still?)
People hither and thither rubbing their grimy thoughts onto others. Giving the subtle yet stark vibration of stinking burning rubble. This aint no fun place.
Everyone finding (trying) a star to their name perennially. Becoming finally the deserving stars of apathy and disgrace, everyone finding a suitable settled image of their dead selves, marrying it and becoming filthy old. Old and of no use other than further fluttering their grime to no end.
I am fed up, and I can see it in your kind soulful eyes as well beloved, such sweet romance lost cause of these old infirm idiots playing as if they knew the game. My My, why is it that we cannot take off our gaze (towards each other!) Is this some sort of drug? A melancholy which we must erase? I cannot fathom myself in this world; cannot imagine a divine trip like you to be here as well. Take my hand, we aint gonna be no poets of the fall this time around. We going to leap fly into inner space!
You kiss like the sky. Fly like the comet right into my mind. Land up like you know me, own me, and we have created a world together here and now. In such intense bliss; aint it a shame to see that we are beyond repair hah !!
Come and shine up this caustic corroded scene. Where the hearts of many are few and just ours oh lover is enough to light and show the way!
Failed To Give
Failed to give it up? all away?
Without care, so much could be lost. Simple and faithful; we ride on each others backs. If we failed to give; perhaps it would be a chance gone, never to be reclaimed or celebrated.
I failed to give my love away, so simple and such a profane mistake. I drowned myself in petty anger and jealousy. Trivial issues became so much more intense compounded by my head, never heeded to the sincere light in my heart, beckoning me to invite others over. To have a feast of my self. Eating my flesh drinking my blood. Giving away the love of Christ (so people know and say).
How could I have failed so irrevocably?
I failed to tread my path with devotion and peace. I made my nights a living hell, and my days made my nightmares come true. I wanted to run over others and myself in some sort of anxious neurosis. I wanted it all, enjoy and never every think about anything but satiation. But how could I have failed to measure my strategy? How could I have lived so fucking mechanically?
I failed to receive and appreciate what I got with grace, I took it all; consumed and shat it out the next day like it was the way to live? How could I fail to have the love to bind myself into this existence. My time has come to an end, and all I have to look back is at days and nights where I could not stand myself and had to shield it in the cloak of friends, liquor and butchery of life; feeding it to my fucking gut.
How could I not cry when I fail to stand still, to try to realize who it is that I am, my maker? my mother? I just took it for granted, like all of you… and yes all of us have failed. In depth and In shit; it is not even worth it if you cannot fathom the mistake which we are making.
Our lives, our soul honour and badge. Our lives in making, Our celebrations and funerals. Our trip does not end here – it just goes on to make believe lands beyond. Our greed and insatiable brains. Our fucking hormones making our lives a burning raging destructive pit of despair
I fail, If I do not communicate, my intent, my nature, my soul, flowering in simple agony. It is my life that is the result. It is my impression and its consequences which are affected. I cannot afford it any more, The time is for change.
If I fail again, I would be happy knowing and in peace that I tried my level best. To give what I received. Humbly; even if there was no one to take.
Lo! The space craft all multi coloured descended, almost floating its way on earth’s gravity. The form changing vessel blew out fast moving light every which way.
The man, god or alien stepped out. Matted hair and locks. The hair was something like a wise antenna. It was a throne – mukut (in sanskrit) but made out of something organic – like roots – strong and expanding every where in space. The Jata dhari was collecting consciousness.
The mauni, The lover, The wise and beautiful dancer. He embraced the trees as if they were his own. He climbed them and sat under them for ages as if he was lost amidst this wild and beautiful scenery of earthly life.
He ingested what was beneath his feet – the mushrooms and roots. He smoked what was growing wild and dangerous. His care none. His love unparalleled. He walked ever so carefully and yet so care free! How could he not be loved.
He was an alien, and he made this his home. He sat in meditation and the animals and plants were amazed. This ancient timeless force in between them, and they too grew so aware! They took his beautiful innocent wisdom and transmitted them beneath through their own jatas – roots, and they too became silent resplendent and non violent like shiva; the master of life (and death)
Bhola natha – he came upon the water and ocean, the beautiful green and icy mountains. He made all of them his lover and his power. He was verily the power holder. The vessel in which power and beauty got a name, got a sense of itself. This is the power of consciousness. And bhola was no fool (yet he was such an innocent loving fool!)
Lover of wild, he saw death and admired it. He loved the fire; blew his ashes on it. Burnt his body and saw this existence without eyes. Meditating in the stillness of night skies. With nature guarding, Bhola was too human was our kind. Agni hotri and lover of transcendence. Loving playing this human game in divine colors.
Sitting next to the ancient rocks of this planet – moulded by the heat from inside, he blessed the earth for this was what was inside bhola too – moulding the power of his own blessed being – he was playing with her, making love to her. making her his wife, mother, divine consort. Ending his alone ness; bathing his and her self in divine soma. Divine soma flowing every which way like his blessed self.
Na Ma Ci Va Ya you are the father, you are the lover. You are the stone linga on which energy percolates. It makes you the master. Makes you the fire. Makes you ice cold to earthly desire!
What in heaven’s name has gone wrong. The tribal master residing still in stillness here and now, disappearing with will and appearing to those who love existence true as himself. He makes them merge into his heart. his conscious divine will, makes the ego ponder and see true bliss before annihilating
Pray to the inner sanctum, where shiva is moulding fire and day. He is creeping our kundalini towards his pull. This alien master so sublime, came down from heavens to show us how it is to be alive!
Master of death, master of life, Pray to you endless times. Pray for prosperity and growth of life. With death it comes a full circle, communion with the father –who rules over samsara and time (Maha Kala!)
Love and Peace
The place where it begins – where there is no need or want really. There is freedom to exist alive in matrix. With wise choices.
I choose to dip my head in deep cleansing cool water. Fresh and pure with the ability to nurture life and see reflections on its surface. The depths hold so much treasure. Living with wonder next to clean water, bathing in pools of hot water. Cleansing my pores and my inner workings. Mind relieved and soul re lived.
I choose to open my eyes, look at the night sky devoid of anything but the loving moon and its friends – the burning embers stars and suns – throwing out dark matter and light radiation at the eyes which are willing to receive it. (by the way we seeing color is the greatest gift of being human)
I choose to walk bare foot, feeling the earth – entwined with its deep connections and roots. The neural networks of the trees everywhere – connecting with the neural pathways of my mind. They teach me about the pathways that make sense. My ego reality going away and in a lifetime – the dawn of the greater mind (for lack of true words to explain)
I choose to beg for love, I choose my tears to redeem my puny self. Love will envelope the core. It is after all the core. The explanations would be left to wonder for themselves. As the beloved removes the veils one at a time. Making me hysterical and blind in love. Opening my eyes, making my heart overwhelmed. Making one to make love to itself, in passion heat and embraces. What more could choices be used for?
I choose to make my death grand, my life a union and communion with everything here and now. My brain splitting open and the energy there in come forth. Showing itself in true glory…. We are all bound to this. We are here cause of the choices we have made. Our lives to be felt and re felt. Learnt the hard way and with emotions. To make our grand life a deep sincere devotion to this existence. Of the one without name and form. Without an iota of understanding of itself. Of the myriad lifes that have been here and now. Of the matter and energy. There is a symbolic representation – this and that – of the grand end, renewal and re birth!
The choice I make within my head, makes my days and night – hence I choose very carefully and in silence – with deep reverence towards everything which is here and not. The void speaks finally through the choices which we all make – as a collective tribe, there is nothing as splendorous as this (even in our imagination of heaven and satisfaction)
I choose to marry to my own deep divinity. I am like a creeper towards the unknown. Observing now so heavy and delirious. I choose to merge and submerge to my own path breaking pointless and sublime end.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
We have stopped talking, interacting and communing with nature – in fact – the people who now live in urban cities across the world – have started witnessing nature as something far away, something un comfortable than their day to day routine, and somehow alien to their lives.
Nature has protruded into everything we are; after all we are a part of nature – we eat from her, drink and sleep on her. Walk and swim across her length and breadth, wear clothes and get high on her products. Our life is still at her mercy, yet due to the lack of open visibility we see (thanks to all the packed consumer products that have infiltrated), we do not even have an ounce of time to examine her with curiosity or awe.
Nature is boring to the freaks with game pads, cars and the lot. It is not worth the effort which we put in and for what? The same tree, the same sunset? For a matter of fact, nature never ever replicates two moments in time, every sunset and tree are individualistic – just like all of us. The beauty is to see this diversity, respect it and nurture it. Nature again does not ask this of us, but when one spends time in solitude surrounded by this world’s natural wonders – then somehow one realizes that there is no other way to exist in the first place.
To humbly request space and moments from her, eat and sleep on her. Let time pass till we die mortally and become again once a truer part of her grand scheme, I realize that our time is short and running and we are spending all the time in wrong efforts, even if we are eco-conscious – we must realize that nature really does not need us – until we need her. and then it becomes a beautiful symbiotic relationship.
Nature’s word are silent and humble, everything born from dark matter and energy and it must return to it, the living ecosystem is fragile and indeed a miracle to behold. More astonishing that the games and movies which we frivolously spend our precious time on. If we do not need nature, nature really does not need us and I for a fact know that we depend our hearts out on nature for our existence as we know it. Though we are sitting now atop high rises, they hold no meaning if the ground beneath them gives way and swallows this entire causation at a go. Gaia is living and breathing and as ancient as we can recollect. It is our imperative to live again amongst her, spend as much time watching and recollecting memories of a collective union of souls. Of no time and such, amidst her its always possible and encouraged.
nature spreads her word in peace, harmony and synchronicity. Not like us mortals who plunder rape and destroy her mindlessly. it is the most advanced life form known till date, and we purposefully in some sort of rage use her without even the conviction to thank her once. I well, thank her in all the forms she shows herself, in babies and little butterflies, greenery and water bodies. The night sky and the beautiful ruins of the past civilization. All is the collective entity sitting on this beautiful rock near the sun, all before it gets burnt up one fine day.
It is high time to change our thought and heart towards the simplest things around us – things which are actually the word of nature coming to the fore. We can learn, unlearn our neurotic existence and un do what all conditioning this world has done to us. It is a true time for some to start afresh, like babies in the garden of heaven. Sitting and eating the humble fruit of knowledge and love.
Take love and peace into the forest, and you shall return back manifold blessed.
Peace and Love.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Flesh To Bone
Climbs behind the nature of facade, tearing it ripping it apart. The dream scenery of perfect solace illusion is finally cut open and left to infect its own being.
The cleaver which is burning through your skull as well as mine. It is cutting (do we not see?) deeper than flesh. Inside the bone, changing the structure of inanimate to animate (and vice versa). Changing life and death and rebirth and horrible cries (of separation).
Flesh and bone are your god, your soul image of your self, so naive it is to see upon the mirror - which you can never ever see for yourself (in whole!). This is the clearest state of maya. Of something hidden where there is nothing to hide!
I have seen redemption of myself, it is glass and stone. Which will break my mould - re mould me and destroy my agony. Please me sense-lessly and bring upon my quick end in fervor. I have seen redemption cut down the lives of so many - right down to flesh and bone - re creating what was is to be the blossoming of our inner fragrance. Our beautiful hole (in the whole) of universal soul.
I cuts down its self. It breaks the boundaries which it built in the first place to remain in control. I shuns the need and want of experience and indeed thirsts nay burns itself for its greater good! This is what has to happen when you mix your liquor and your insatiable curse of a thirst for more.
Why or whom will come and save you when the day comes about - when you are no longer to exist and no longer in doubt? When will you save yourself by (voluntarily) giving up your self? Who will give you salvation when there is no one left at all.
I have left my senses abroad, given them up for a dime cause well its worth not more. You should do the same. Make it perfect and sound; make it rising up to the shrine - your throne.
Love and Peace
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Peace Hand Shake
This came to me while I was sitting next to a lake; just seeing reflections. The hand shake which we currently employ to greet each other without violent human confrontation (as supposed primitive humanoids used to do); is still without any give and take, we meet supposedly on equal grounds yet when we have our first sense of physical contact (with another life which we consider almost equal) is based on a grip fight.
Wouldn’t a better option would be to exchange what one’s hands carry at the time when you meet another, so you walking and meet a person you know or want to and just go up to them and give what is in your hands – or in your vicinity. So in this way a small exchange creates a symbiotic relationship with all you meet, you can exchange smokes or drinks or condoms or music or books or pills or what not. You are free to give a rose or a rock, anything of value or not. But an exchange to show respect to another life form – is this not what we do when we feed animals or water plants, but we consider doing this amongst us humans as not worth the time (for the deals are bigger grander and more impactful – a pack of lies and shit almost all the time).
We can start with the ground root level – meeting and interacting as if we choose to and are not forced to. Is this wrong in any which way – yet we employ this only in certain pre destined spheres of our lives (our friend circles/fuck buddies aka girl/boy friends and what not else).
So we do not need people to be happy yet we choose to be with them as they do, there is a subtle difference and when this intent becomes deadly serious and fun in the hearts – learnt and un learnt – then we cannot fail to do a peace hand shake at the least – if not a full blown loving hug to whomsoever we would like to be with – in all spheres of our lives – spiritual/professional/solitude and where else …..
I chuckled when I thought of this. Hopefully will start an internal revolution with intent to collectively become one! As if there was ever any other choice. (Another chuckle lol)
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Nuclear Winter Flying
The birds are following their migratory patterns again this year. They are flying in patterns so noticeable and keen, they are beautiful serene.
They start from Russia, bleeding earth dry in the winter blind white sky. Nuclear waste protruding from inside the buried earth, the earth which has now bled enough of this human intrusion and has to vomit it back into the human existence void. The birds sit next to broken open cans of left overs of nuclear prophecies. Which have been brought about in the name of human survival and innovation. The birds look gaunt and dry, withering shy. They are yes of course fucking ready to die. They fly, nothing else but fly. This nuclear winter bleeding the sky red.
They migrate to the deserts now filled with fumes, people surviving amidst dense glass structures with temperature control, fuelling and filling the left over atmosphere with grand holes, blistering heat coming again with fury like never before, creating deserts out of this green planet. A new biological nuclear winter burning a hole in everything which has been created. Darkness and nuclear winter for sure. Maybe after the sun has eaten this rock of a planet whole.
The birds do not fail in finding oasis’, there are so many – the litter and putrid filth of human consumption, like never ever before. It is so disgusting and the birds – maybe egrets or geese or maybe a divine swan sit silently and gulp up our garbage none the less, while we smile laugh and fart our fucking soul.
The birds come down to near the equator – they find solace amidst a billion other lost souls – maybe they were just in the guise of humans or something way more vile. Something soul less - life less quenching its machine of something by any which way it can. Not by anything which can ever fucking bring respite
The birds sit next to human filth, plastic and inorganic chemicals – seeping through the soil and to the ground water – polluting the entire crust of the earth and also everything like these birds which feed from it. Every single moment of their lives – perhaps just like us, maybe a lot less like us?
The birds now are high on human shit, there is no better way of putting it. Everything seems to love it – from the terrestrial animals to the aquatic marine life, everything lapping our shit to their intestines. Keeping the sorrow and hate which we have the intent only to create into this earth’s bowls.
Nuclear winters so mellow, amidst a yellow burnt sky – where the sun peers burning through amidst rock and fume of human hollowness. The soul less machine creating the prime intent always in mind – self ish profit at the cost of its own self?
And the nuclear winter is sure to repeat many a time, while this stupid primate sits on the throne of the silent masters – trees and the rocks. The birth of heat from inside and from the sun – burning through another failed attempt at a civilization and so soon yet?
The birds and their failed attempts to migrate to somewhere less cold has finally been rewarded. What a sexy cause
Peace and Re Birth
Ode to Humanity
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