Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Seventy-Three

the reality is, there is no real good reason to be happy - the trick is remembering there is no good reason to be unhappy either - when you least expect it, one or the other will puppeteer your life and it will take a while to realise what's actually happening - you're happy, or you're unhappy, for no good reason, and it's out of your control

before i knew what was taking place, i'd had a painting painted for me - commissioned two years ago much to the anticipation of friends and family who had taken it upon themselves to assume it was a wedding present for ourselves - it never was - it was a gift to a house - like a becoming of age thing - a house only becomes a home once it has a commissioned painting painted by one of your all-time favourite artists on the wall - that, and i also fell into some extra cash that i didn't want to fall into the anonymity of electronic banking

i had run fifteen kilometers and therefore become the fittest i've ever been i guess - but before that lady-elle had ordered me a thirtieth birthday present that was almost a month late in arriving - i didn't mind, of course - but we'd heard the night before she flew to japan, it was waiting for me at the post office - i'd finally get to see it - id finally get to know what it was - and she's a goddamn genius at buying people presents - living out of bags in london for a week, she was able to give a relative stranger a xmas present by finding out he was going to india in a week, and then giving him the handful of rupees we had left over from our recent visit - see what i mean? - anyway, she flew out to japan the next morning, and after work i was able to pick up the present - after dealing with some unnecessary but regulation hassle at the post office, i was handed a massive tube - i walked it home and put on j mascis' solo album and opened the tube - i unraveled a print of a painting  by alan beam - the only artist who has ever walked on the moon - it was a painting called "is anyone out there?" it's a self portrait of the moment alan beam spent on the moon looking into the void asking himself if anyone was out there - art, space, philosophy and the perfect present for me - all i have to do is have a quite beer while listening to some psychedelic music as i slowly fall asleep as i look with hazy eyes at it, and i'll die happy - that night i ran fifteen kilometers for the first time in my life, in a good time too - it was a cool clear night and in the seventy-six minutes i was out there running, i only really saw one other person -  but only just - i watched the sun set as i ran and instantly i felt the night air take over, and take over cold - and soon fog - but during the whole time the moon shone down on me and inspired me and guided me through the dark park tracks - it was a spiritual moment and i thought of that same moon moving over japan sometime soon - knowing all well that someone was out there for me

later than night my uncle found my house and dropped off a grandfather-clock that actually once belonged to my grandfather - the font of the numbers on the clock-face looked identical even though i now stand at one hundred and seventy-seven centimeters - it doesn't work, but it's currently sitting in the corner - next to our massive whatever-inch tv - and it's a phenomenon that i now possess it

my football team won a great victory last weekend, and i watched it with some friends i've known for twenty-five of my thirty-years - i lost my ipod but just bought a new one and got on with just listening to some amazing music - i stopped fighting myself and learned to love edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros - i started reading a new james ellroy book and i got my photo taken with tim rogers

prior to all of this was i exhausting myself with late nights and a couple of beers - and i felt neutral, empty and careless - but as with everything i've just written, it was all for no good reason - it was just mere occurrence, and that's the way it is - for better or worse - but as i learned by watching woody allen's whatever works during the empty sunday evening carpark that was my neutralness, you've just got to do what you can with whatever you've got to do it with - and take whatever pleasure you can out of this beautiful, amazing existence we've found ourselves in, for no good reason

i'll finish writing this by something like

if men are from mars
and women are from venus
i wanna be right here with the animals and trees

setting sun -
i see you smiling.
i'll see you tomorrow

possum madness
behind the dark leaves
- the frozen half moon

saying goodbye could always be
the last time
saying hello could always be
the first time



Thursday, June 21, 2012

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Seventy-Two

dear prudence
relax and -
close your eyes

dear prudence,
are those rich english boys
bothering you?

and after some time,
happiness
- outside the leaves leak rain

staring to the distance,
he is silent -
oblivious to their laughter

flakey brown leather chair
seats a grandfather
- he sits in it, and dies

empty room,
when will the rain
return your silence?

shelter at the bus stop
waiting for the rain to pass
-  take a seat

in the library, he thinks of his past
-  surrounded by books
there aren't many regrets

the friends are laughing
it must be raining
on the mellow drunks

i'm alright -
probably happy
- i'm alright

walking past the wedding,
he stops and wonders why they're so happy,
and takes a sip of his beer

with open eyes
she see the morning
- what does it look like?

a dinner for one
- cook for two
when the heater's broken

litter floating in the gutter
tonight's rain is especially cold
- who ate all the pies?

my life on earth
reminds me of
rain on the ocean

a broken mirror
turns all frowns
into awkward smiles

late silent night -
a dripping tap, a ticking clock
lost in the comforting drone of rooftop rain

happiness without a hug
is like
happiness without a hug

a peaceful thought
from a mellow mind
- standing still in the city

from this mountain-top
i can see where i live,
but i think of my home

in life, we fear hell
in hell, we fear death
in death, we live life

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Seventy-One



i am writing this because the thought came to me as i was walking down the street on a cold and wet sunday afternoon - i was alone, and am alone - the thought came to me that we're all alone in this world, and that we all make such pathetic efforts to try and make it otherwise - but i guess one can't blame the need to feel loved and wanted - something to make our lives worthwhile, and meaningful

i carry on throughout this life, and i find myself getting so frustrated at so many things - so many things everyday, no matter where i am, or what im doing - i struggle to see past the meaninglessness of life, and therefore i struggle to live a proper life - i come across as rude, lazy and sarcastic - im synical towards most things, and i always assume an alternative motive behind the actions of everyone

i am this way because i hold onto the ideal of what life on earth could potentially be - i see such potential in the amazing fluke that is life on earth - intelligent life on earth - it's but then i see the expectations we thrust onto each other - i see people living lives, because they feel as though they should - i see people being proper, and i see people wanting to be proper - i don't even know what proper is - soup and a beer for lunch, why not?

i have great friends in my life, but that is more of a reflection of them, rather than of me - i only have friends because they want to be friends with me - i deserve nothing, and i want nothing - they seem to accept my sarcasam and continuous synicisms - i allow nothing, and toy and test everything that comes my way - i make fun of everything that is meaningful to everyone else and i never make it easy - if life can be a work of art, then i strive to be an absurdist - yeah, i see you world -  yeah, i see you human race - but fuck you - i want nothing to do with it

and so i read about the mass-scale abominations of human history - i watch extreme and difficult movies - i bury myself in music and blankets and find some comfort in the warmth and rhythms

i am not depressed, just continually disappointed - be the change you want to see in the world? - yeah, so i drink - i walk alone and i think by the rivers - i walk through the trees and i sit by the rocks - i stand in the dirt and i think of my death, and wonder how and wonder why - no-one knows the meaning of life because so many people have made their lives meaningless

life is just something we have to do - and when things happen in my life, i keep this in mind - perspective is a helpful skill worth learning - there is not a lot on their earth that means a lot - historical landmarks, maybe - family, friends and loved ones, yeah - but only to ourselves - if we were able to gain some perspective, we might be able to work this fluke of nature into being worthwhile and meaningful - instead we have places we have to be - phone calls we have to take - politicians and political views that only self-serve to distract and occupy - people with tattoos - blind religions - trains running late

everyone finds their own way to deal with life - some people gamble - some people are religious - some drink - some start families and some work jobs - some people run and exercise - some people commit suicide - some don't

i am thirty years old now - yeah, so what? - i always wanted to be older than what i was - and now i am - im thirty years old and showing no signs of caring about how old i am - i run - i drink - i read - i follow football - i love my wife more than you love your girlfriend - i listen to music - i love my life because it goes against everything that's put before me everyday - and today it's raining - today it's sunday - today it's cold - and that's why i'm writing this today








Friday, June 15, 2012

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Seventy














anonymous encounters failing the lonely-man
 standing by himself in a public toilet
he stands there for twenty minutes
doors remain locked
like his tangled beard
wrapped up tightly
his patchy woolen jacket
whispered on the threshold
and determined by cruelty of fate
and the collateral damage of individuality
i thought I heard their voices
but it was only their laughter
I thought I could make some sense
but it was only their rules
the vile sight of fresh-faced supermarket security guards
laying down the law to an elderly homeless man
pockets full on an empty stomach
the feeling returns
and the cruel nature of nature
has lost again with the ease of wasted time
this time it’s by our own doing
life itself up against the law
a ride home for free
what do I even have in my pockets?
the of fear wasting time
can’t shrug the stains of monotony
finally reaching the end of time
we embrace like pure-beings
mingling spirits floating down a stream
neither dead or alive
and not caring either way
something has been mutually accepted here
as they curl up to die together -
waking up alive all over again
but at least they’re keeping each other warm
mother nature is on her knees
begging for mercy with smokey tears
and im on mine for forgiveness
we bump into one another
on the same course through the smoke and wind
direct to the ultimate catastrophe
one last bang and we’re gone
dazed, drifting and naked
a disintegration faster than reflex
an unknown cause of death
an unknown reason to live
and our lives nevertheless
an invisible push that pushes
until the realisation when we're
buying food
talking to people
asleep on trains
walking through city parks
drinking with friends
and all those moments spent alone
that we keep to ourselves
- that's beauty
and if you call yourself a god
well - you need some time alone
a fascination, floating dust particles, and the spider-web
theres no blame behind the natural high
god spends his time alone
god is a loner
the fields are empty, but always covered in mist
my freedom melts the frosts
running like a living being
sometime the sky looks bigger than what it actually is
but it's nothing
sky doesn't really exist
my feeling of meaninglessness
and the stretching expanding space
empty laughter echos and weaves through the tall mossy trees
sunslight - some kind of sunlight
perice this beautiful world
some kind of daily recollection
it's alright
the morning dew is most prevalent on his unshaven face
a twitch, and he is awake
like his tangled beard
wrapped up tightly
his patchy woolen jacket
is warm today
whispered on the threshold
of not caring either way
if god is a loner, then so is he
and so am i
and she's my best friend
tomorrow - just another best and worst of somebody's life
sirens wailing in the background of a half-hearted birthday-wish
somebody's birthday
somebody dies
the rest of shrug our shoulders
and wonder how long it is before we can go home
people are those people who we dont know
it's a never ending scurm of life
never ending until we find a dead-end
love keeps a functioning-alcoholic alive
it's up to them whether they live or die
if they die i drink to them
i walk the lonely streets at night for them
i walk the parks with the possums as the moonlight find the rain
if the don't, i pass them some change
but at the very least - i see them as teenagers
i see them in my shoes
and i dont blame them
the vile sight of fresh-faced supermarket security guards
laying down the law to an elderly homeless man











·        

Friday, June 1, 2012

Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Sixty-Nine

the side line girl
a suburban interaction
mellow drunk, don't disturb us
we stand beyond
the supermarket convienience
 - how are you going?
a salvation lost
between truth and memories
and at least i know
no-one i know
will be hurt
lost or forgotten
- and my ghosts guide me
a silly little man
the most wise man ive met
trees grow beyond our
comprehension
beyond our awareness
before we know it
as we're fusking drinking with friends at some bar that means something
- there's a tree outside the window
it's been there for years
and leaves grow and fall from it
and i live to see them fall and die
im not sad
im alive
im not depressed
i just realise my life
sad autumn leaves shared
by the train station masses
as they shit-kick their way home
to warm-home-made-soup
they dunk drunk
before a silly fucking television
but yet
but yes
i find myself
finding myslef
a way out of a social fucking situation
i used to work at that service station
i grew up in this town
i was born in that hospital
but here i was
drinking a brand new
six-pack of beer
behind the service station
realise my adult life
realising that this
was how i was
going to realise my adult life
just me and the stars
just me and and some distant traffic
later one
just me and the three am ocean
listening to some favourite songs
screaming the positive words ive thought
to the cosmos
to the most worthy
i think of my father
and private moments
and how i somehow got married
only a certain few know how to get married before they're thirty
god-damn lady-elle is one of the coolest i've met
no smile says you're happy
evolution, where have you been?
the rest try and say they're too cool to be thirty
- i'll die knowing i have made a commitment
i'll die knowing i have made a commitment to my friends
and to the friends who have made a commitment
to the
fuck off
life is life
death is death
the split second inbetween is spent
in the eyes of...
your subconsciouisness
and the god
you chose to judge your death
- mine?
mine will be pure - a psychedelic drift into the pure cosmic void
that so many fear
- i dont fear the void -
- i dont fear death -
a pure realised life can guide you
- what guides you?
im not a poet, and i never wanted to be
i just wanted to obsorb the artistic syrups
of my opened stained glass windows
that welcome the cold orange autumn breese
into the stale memories of
of me, and my realisation of the
leaves fall like gatherings
and unexpected welcomes
yellows twirling
orange melting
red wet
it's winter now the music is inside
- i hear it from the streets
i hear it as i walk home
someone drives past
they honk their horn
and i push my middle finger through the a-emm fog
- where are you? -
- where am i? -
someone reminded me
a never-lost-long friend
the univisrse doesn't care
we can't comprehend how insigificant we are
yet, everyone wishes me a happy birthday
it's fucking absurd - sing me a song - crowd about me
but it makes sense
we're so fucking lucky to be alive
this is our life - this is how we live it
i wonder where i will die
i wonder how i will die
i think of those i will leave behind and i feel so miserable
but i hope i give each and every one of them
one tiny sip
of my appreciation, and love
- i felt it, and saw it
at the bus stop in lowell, massachusetts
my death doesnt mean anything
my life doesnt mean anything
- but  i'll live it
despite your fucking hidden judgements
are you as wholesome as you promote yourself to be wholesome?
i dont know it all

im not conceited

just because you read what i write you fucking think you know who i am?

you fucking idiot

i have memories

trees grow

grass die

 the universe against me?

i dont even exist

and in that case i dont want to

but i cant help it

im stuck here

surrounded by songs like

prozac vs heroin

you look great when im fucked up


ive been drinking at this bar
for twelve years
- time for another beer