November 29, 2011 § Leave a comment
“I keep having dreams.” Frank Turner – I am Disappeared.
People tell me “Better the devil you know.”. What if ever devil I know is boring, predictable, slain. What if they are wrong. What if what I need is a shiny new devil. One that will keep me on my toes, put me on my toes, get me on my toes. We are stupid. I am, at least. We beg for normality in times of unpredictability and the second we level out we complain that the motion is too slow. “Fuck this” we say, we need to mix it up a bit. So we find a new devil. Something new to fight. A new enemy. Until we are too tired to fight and some amateur picks us off like we did so many tired pros before us. It’s snowing here. That eerie silence broken by that strange pitter patter of snow on snow. Almost perfect silence broken in the most gentle way. I like it. I always have – to me there is something overworldly about all this frozen rain. So pure and beautiful. Untouched until we come along with our big clumsy footprints. Shit. All my friends are drug addicts.
November 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
“Pistol shots ring out on a bar room night.” – Hurricane – Bob Dylan.
“I don’t see William Shakespeare missing too many meals” The words rang out like a pistol shot over a quiet room. The point was valid but it wasn’t the point he intended to make. That would be the difference here. Being wide of the mark isn’t enough, it’s close, but it’s just not the mark. Lost thoughts are like spent shells. Incriminating. They will bother you should you leave them behind.
She was kind of heart. I could tell that from the start. But indifference has lent itself to me recently so I passed it by. Her point was that writers never go hungry. That’s not true. It’s not. Shakespeare never went hungry, not in the later years at least. But I wonder if he would trade his hunger for any hang ups that come with a silver tongue. Writers aren’t too bothered about money. If they are they are not writers. They are labourers. They are just workers if money is the issue. A real writer will go hungry, without sleep, food, love. Without what normal people need. Because normal people aren’t writers or musicians or artists. They lack the pretension. The need. That madness that sets the artist apart. Swings and roundabouts.
November 10, 2011 § Leave a comment
It’s been spluttering. Shaking. Ticking over. Like the engine in an old car, stuttering away under a bonnet. Just trying to get started. Me recently that is. After a long absences I have returned. Here I am, back again. For how long? Probably until I run out of things to say. She’s starting to look worried. I think that’s what that. I’m not sure. I’m not sure if it is uncertainty or lack of interest that leads me or leaves me with whatever this emotion or opinion of that facial expression is. Shit. I used to good at this. Like an old master moving chess pieces over a board set up inside her head. Each move was seen. Each move was predicted. I knew the moves. I saw them coming almost always. However, unlike the very best, there was little I could do about them. Just to tense for the hit. That talent was mine. The hit was expect. I was never shocked by them. I just took them. I must be fine, my hearts still beating. I’ll be fine this isn’t my first time. I’ve taken blows before and every time I did survive. It’s not that I don’t see them coming. It’s that I don’t give a fuck. It’s sad. I know. But fuck it. I just don’t care anymore. There is no stronger feeling than indifference. To hate something is to care about it. To feel indifference is to be cold. Is truly not care anymore.
November 9, 2011 § Leave a comment
The stage was set. I knew that much at least. Whatever naivety or deprivement I had suffered to make it this far was irrelevant. At the end of a long journey, a really long journey, you do not care about you’re luggage. You don’t care about your clothes or your shoes. It comes to a point, at the very end, when you just want to drag your bones over the line, and, just as long as they have a little skin on them, any luggage would be a bonus. I have found myself in this situation. You should too. At some point. It’s when you learn what is important to you. I think, at least. I hope. Because if that doesn’t tell you nothing will. No amount of poor spelling or missed commas. No amount on beauty or intelligence that was allowed to slip through your fingers will ever give way to the fact that who you are is not who you always have to be. People do change but that does not always mean they will or that they should. They just need motivation and belief.
November 7, 2011 § 3 Comments
The following is text from a speech made by Charlie Chaplin.
“Hope… I’m sorry but I don’t want to be an Emperor – that’s not my business – I don’t want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible, Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that.
We all want to live by each other’s happiness, not by each other’s misery. We don’t want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone and the earth is rich and can provide for everyone.
The way of life can be free and beautiful.
But we have lost the way.
We have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in: machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little: More than machinery we need humanity; More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost.
The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say “Do not despair”.
The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die [now] liberty will never perish…
Soldiers – don’t give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you – who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder.
Don’t give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don’t hate – only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers – don’t fight for slavery, fight for liberty.
In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written ” the kingdom of God is within man ” – not one man, nor a group of men – but in all men – in you, the people.
You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let’s use that power – let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfil their promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfil that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men’s happiness.
Soldiers – in the name of democracy, let us all unite!
Look up! Look up! The clouds are lifting – the sun is breaking through. We are coming out of the darkness into the light. We are coming into a new world. A kind new world where men will rise above their hate and brutality.
The soul of man has been given wings – and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow – into the light of hope – into the future, that glorious future that belongs to you, to me and to all of us. Look up. Look up.”