Friday, January 25, 2013
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Six
i ease back – the faint cool air from the coach air-conditioning gives a surprising amount of relief from the warm summer night, and the warm sun-soaked beers I’d been drinking all evening – with my bag on the seat next to me, I put on my headphones and listened to some cool and smooth jazz music.
the market was a pleasant enough way to pass the three hour wait for the next coach down the highway – a gold coin donation in the form of three fifty cent coins – food stalls circling me like the frozen dead plastic horses on that merry-go-round – the sun was setting and shadows stretched and glittered over everything and everyone – the lines to the food stalls were all long, and the people waiting in them were short and fat – the food looked good though, but I was never going to submit myself to that sort of treatment – around the corner there was a tent selling beer on ice, so I took myself there – how long before the food lines die down? I ask the girl serving me a beer – oh, I dunno, coupla hours I guess – damn... I was hungry
I stroll slowly around the market – stopping here and there to touch some fabrics, browse some t-shirts, toss some hacky-sacks – there was a blues man playing blues on a small stage, and I leaned against a tree and sipped my beer listening to him – strange little children with helium balloons danced out of time to his music – he was alright – he gave out cds of his music for free after his show, and his friends and family hugged and kissed him – after a couple of more beers, I realised there was no use waiting for the lines for food to die down – still adamant I wouldn’t stand in line like that, I approached the polish dumpling tent as it had the smallest line – in fact, it didn’t seem to have a line at all, just a few young couples waiting for their food – I was cool with this – I’d been to Poland and dug their food, a lot – I ordered the lot to go with the three or five beers I’d already drunk and sat down to put some food in my stomach – it was expensive food, but the dumplings were good and I was happy – I sat back on the grass soaked up the scene, watching people walk around looking for an empty table to eat their food at - they're all together, i thought - can they see me?
I got my bag out of the locker at the bus-station – two bags – one with some clothes and books, the other full of booze – beer and scotch – I slid into the mens toilets and holed up in one of the cubicals – lid and seat down, I sat down and carefully poured a good portion of scotch into a half empty bottle of coke – using the toilet window sill as a bar – I wondered if this should be me at an all time low – I don’t know – it felt empowering, badarse, rebellious, and like I was part-taking in an age old tradition laid down by people like me – I took a piss then walked out to the bus-stop
the jazz played slow and cool in my ears – the dusk outside, the tall straw grass waving goodnight to the coast-side setting sun – I eased back in my seat and took long smooth sips of my scotch, synchranisng my mind and my thoughts with the jazz that flowed like syrup in my ears – I felt cool – I melted into an endless sense of relaxation, and watch the world in nature glide by my perfection
the next day I woke early after going to bed late – you see, the night was moon-less, and out there on the coast, sleeping in a house in the trees, the stars were in their millions – together as one, as though it were one beautiful and majestic solid piece of god hanging over me – like a work of art – the meaning and purpose of all art, right there above me – infinite time and space and inspiration – from it, I decided to wake up early and walk to the beach for an early morning swim – morning air, cool and moving - the sand seemingly untouched for billions of star lit nights – a morning haze of fog and salt water filtered the rising sun – the couple of black dots behind the loud waves were surfers, who sat on their boards and bobbed over the forming deep waves – I throw off my tshirt and tuck my glasses and wedding rings into my leather boots – I run into the ocean – each level of wave hits me harder and higher and before I know it, im submerged in the ocean and im awake – the gush as I dive under the crashing waves – streaming as I push myself through the unbroken swells – im a head in the ocean – im a small body floating in the ocean – behind me, land – before me, the rest of the dangerous water world in constant motion - a liquified world smothering the planet with life and lemon jelly - ...tangy
blood moved it's way through my body like my father's red-wine - the trees smelt like dusk, and the birds sang a song to anyone who was listening - i tuned in - my boots kicked the dust - my flannel shirt and the cool sea breeze filtered through the green leafy trees - i took it slow, and climbed up a small mountain - a ridge line - once atop, an endless vision of tree-soaked ranges spread gold - i was alone and high on red-wine and potent beauty of natural-earth - as it should be - as it once was - a floating marble planet (one of the most beautiful i've ever seen) covered in trees standing in a forest, with no-one around to hear them grow tall, or fall with grace from the most natural of deaths - i listened to some psychedelic music as the sun set over the mountain ranges and the beach down below - i was alone, high and holy - a tiny atom in black jeans, kicking against the endless cosmos
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Five
a couple of forty degree days to weed out the arseholes
too naughty to be forty
a hall of fame at the jamieson pub for cougars in the area
a couple of beers with friends in the fan forced cool pub air
high times at mid afternoon in the bush
having some beers
driving through the dust
talking shit
taking a swim
nothing to do except say thing like
i might go for a swim
i might have another beer
i might have snags for dinner tonight
i might take a nap
who wants to play cards?
sipping a cold beer in the watching the countless deep green trees
swaying in front of that deep deep blue sky
cloudless for three days
pushing a cool breeze around a twenty four degree day
three days in a row
great fucking friends
how did we end up together?
are we this way because of the way we are
or have we made and molded ourselves into this
this strange mixture of smart, mature, open-minded, intelligent, caring, hard drinking, sexual obsessives
an appreciation for poetry, and drawing massive cocks on the photos in tabloid newspapers
so lucky to have the opportunity to laugh so fucking hard so often
too much at times - i found myself trying to hide my laughter
because i wasn't actually laughing at anything in particular
just in the mood
these are things you have to be thankful for
and i am because it is crazy how good life can be
it is insane how well we can live
my on-going guilt and questioning as to whether i am a good enough person to be this lucky is something i have to live with
a few days later, back home
i spend the day walking around one of those forty degree days
weeding out the arseholes
i walk around the lake and it's very secluded
i walk off-track and im reminded of my times camping with friends
i take some silly little photos
i sweat from the forehead
i take my time and walk around the streets
i take some photos of some hidden factories that may or may not still be operational
i stop off at the local music store and dig the music they're playing
as i always do
have a look around but don't buy anything
i walk down to the pub
blowing my nose as i walk
i order the roast, a beer, and a glass of ice water
the ice water is the best of the lot
i take a seat and watch the cricket
i take a seat and take a look around me
i'm surrounded by arseholes
but we're alright
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Four
a full twenty minutes of staring at my crotch - i let her go - some suppressed fantasy perhaps? - her twenty minute train ride home spent staring at my crotch, as i stand cool in the doorway, hanging off one of the poles - i got shades on and i've done my what i've had to do with my day - i wonder what she is thinking of, what she is fantasising about, and whether it involves me in particular, or just any old dude on the train - or maybe it's just... it - or maybe she's just in a mid-week haze, staring blanking and thinking nothing - half dead and half asleep - yeah, maybe - i let her go
earlier that day i spent some time walking about the bad-side of town - empty fenced of trashlands - run down buildings built with old red brinks - faded signs of companies and organisations that have gone out of business at least fifteen years ago - i took some photos on my cheap camera and ate a packed lunch on a pile of concrete slabs stained and choked by weeds and dust
i saw a man lingering at the foot of some skeletal metal beams that once used to be something - he singled to me, a hesitant wave - i raised my hand in reply, and slowly walked towards him - he kept watch over both his shoulders, and mine - are you here for the meeting? he asked me
no, i'm not here for anything
what? ...what are you here for?
i'm sorry, im not here for anything
he laughed and twitched, pulling out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and dangling it from his lips - a week later i read about a man who was found dead exactly where we had our exchange - i had no doubt it was him, and i have no doubt it was suicide - for the next three weeks after hearing the news, i developed a severe cough that almost drove me insane
i live in a building - below me a small asian man runs a bottle shop, selling fireworks and weed under the counter to highschool students, and behind the sorry we're closed sign to me - on the floor above they hold dance classes for all types girls and women - the dance teacher is the only male i've seen walked up there - sometimes when im not working, i hear their dance steps infiltrating my afternoon-nap-dreams - once i had a girl over and she did a strange little strip tease for me, to the beat of the dancing footsteps coming from above - i don't know what happened to her - she vanished - i remember taking a day off work and lining up all these songs and all these albums that she could strip tease to for me next time, but there never was a next time and i never saw her again - i didn't speak to anyone for almost two weeks - until i went downstairs for more booze and weed
i sat in the city library for five days straight - i read eleven of what i consider to be the most important books and written words produced by man-kind - im a slow reader - i didn't have to talk to anyone the whole five days i was there - i didn't have to eat either - i drank from the water fountain and pissed in the toilets - i've never really taken to eating - it doesn't bother me - i could starve to death no even realise what had happened - one of the books i read talked about the importance of death in life, and how it's ridiculous to pretend it's not going to happen - i would talk to more people and meet more new people if it was socially acceptable to talk about death all the time - but it's not, so i don't - i just spend my time reading about it, starving myself, and watching the world pass me by one day at a time
i begun losing touch when everything seemed to become so cheap - i sort some kind of security, just so i would have one less thing to worry about - but once i reached that point, i realised i lived in a world where i could get anything i wanted whenever i wanted it - i lived a dangerous life of keeping my life as simple as possible while surrounded by luxurious people and places - my thoughts remained complex - my fears remained realistic - my dreams remained routine, while slightly sexual - my days were broken up between consumptions - i feared life, and anticipated death - i took the train home, and hung back - hung cool - having done what id had to do with the day
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Three
i take it slow and move down the fashion conscious streets of my home town - sunglasses keep barrier of distance and shade between me, and everything i see - everyone i see - each passer-by reveals another passer-by - a continual flow of people i'll never know just moving around - are they walking as aimlessly as i am? - can so many people really have that many things to do? - the weather is nice so i stop by the side of the street and order a seven-dollar fruit smoothie that tastes like shit, but the girl who served me was a cutie so i consider it a win-win situation - i bought the smoothie that had the least-ridiculous name - maybe that's why.
i stand on the corner and watch some more - i enjoy the confusion life causes me - i never want to get used to this life - i want to look at that girl stopped at a red light in her car, and see a girl in a metal box, run by a motor of little bits and pieces, and imagine the amount of trust she's putting into all those little bits and pieces to work together - to work together to save her life at every red-light - i want to see the absurdity of human beings, as intelligent beings, relying on coloured lights to tell them what to do - on hoards and hoards of people following the clock like a god, but forgetting that it's the sun that is our god, and we rely on a natural phenomenon to occur each and every day in order for normality to keep us sane - i want to look at women wearing high-heels and think to myself "what the fuck are you doing?" - i want to look at chairs and think about how much of a cool fucking invention they are - how can you be unhappy when sitting in a chair?
yeah, that's life - yeah, they're thoughts - i can't stop it and i can't stop them and i can't stop it confusing everyone else around me - some people get it, most don't - but at the same time, most don't care either - wearing my cowboy hat on the train home last night reminded me of this
walking home i took some thoughts - warm sunny summer afternoon, enough drain a thirst out of me - bag over one shoulder - got some books and some cds - the woman in that accountant's office is staring at me - i glance back and she's back to work - i come to the realisation that throughout my whole life, i have always had this built in trust and assurance that everything is going to be alright - that i can do anything and say anything, and everything will always work out - eventually, at least - and it does - im a pessimistic, sure - but that's only about the superficial and petty things we do with our lives - with the absurd and ridiculous things we think are important - im pessimistic and sarcastic about those things - everything else, i know will be good'n'cool in the end - i've always had this in me - always- and so far it's paid off and is working - i just don't know who to thank - the things i dream about doing, i end up doing in time - and i do give it time - maybe that's the trick - don't push things - don't rush things - just allow it, and sit back in your chair
i fail at times and they're the times i don't know what's going wrong - what is it that i cannot fix? - the heavy burden of a neutral life on the wondering thinker - it only takes time before something happens that breaks through that nasty-silent-grey-normality - sometimes it's a song - sometimes it's a lithuanian sunset - today it was a great time over a nine kilometer run - my best - and as soon as i realised i'd run my fastest time, i knew i had the universe and my cosmic-worryless-gift to thank, and apologise to
keep the faith, by never forgetting how tiny and insignificant our lives are in comparison to this world, this galaxy and this universe - it's incomprehensible, but the more you try, the more you realise we have nothing to worry about - seventy odd years out of billions and billions past, and billions and billions to come
Friday, November 23, 2012
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-Two
yeah - im an arsehole - doesn't really know anyone, no-one really knows me - lady-elle maybe - sam maybe - the laylaws perhaps - god and the trees and the wind and cool sunshine and waking up from sleep and that realisation that you are on the other side of the planet - something that was once something, but is now a right of passage - i have traveled across this vast and tiny little planet, but for my time being, for the while i was the past dying - i battle, dear fucking reader, i battle - how can such a silly little man with one thousand dollars find a way to travel this planet? - hence, yes, hence - i stand in the background and watch it pass - such a fucking weirdo, drinking alone, happy - yet somehow getting by, pushing through, seeing it on the other side
im not really sure what took me to running - some idiot would talk about my father running ten marathons - sure i ran as i littleton - as a youngling - i remember practicing ten kilometers from f/haven to olde eastern view and back, just to prove little s.laylaw could run the shit - and the little-one could - i remember thinking about daniel larusso and his "prep" for the all-valley championship - but the internet has taken all the glory away from that - anyway, it was fucking tough back then - damn, it was tough - i pushed through, never saying mercy to two older brothers and one awesome family dog
we wake up everyday, but every now and again we wake up married and loved in a daze and you look around yourself and think - im alive, right? - and why me? - how many people have died while ive spent my time drinking and talking shit about music or movies that are meant to mean something but always never get noticed ever at the right time - and therefore a little man like me, pretending he means something against the spewmantic writing of online-thoughts - of online thinking - where does that leave me? - listening to fucking cds blasted witha nasty neon screen that corrects my fast-s[elling before i even notice it - is this to impress me? - is this to make me a cheap-sell to some guy a couple of years below me in high-school who now wears a suit and buys cheap sushi-rolls and pretends we were friends twelve years ago?
i run like a mad-man - i think of manic-musicians, crazy-artists and super-cool movie stars everyone has forgotten - who will teach the children's children? - how do i get angry? - i can't really remember before i started running pathetic three kay-emm runs that i had top stop half-way through for - realising, hard, that man, maybe i aint so tough - but that's all it took readers and listeners - one realisation to change it all
i think about those northcote lonesome days - drinkin' and music - struggling with the writing, but pushing through it all - somehow - some fucking how
now - yeah, im alright - i run like a mad-man, but i run coool, smooth fast and fit - i see the sun shining when the boozer only sees it shining at his morning-wakeup-depression - some sort of lake that looks fucking amazing - i run around it a couple of times a week and i nod to the runners i pass by - damn they're doing better than me... at least i think so - maybe, maybe not - anyway, i nod to them all thanks to day-light-saving - the runners-nod - two men just pushing through and running for individual pain and pleasure, seeing one another and giving nothing but a nod as they pass a couple of seconds and share them together - soon to be forgotten
some guy - a fluro jacket - maybe he wore it because he rode a bike - maybe he wore it for work - maybe he wore it cos it was dark back then - anyway, i saw him sitting on that bench by the creek in blackburn often - quite often - just sitting there, taking a break from his ride home to smoke a cigarette or few by the trees - only to be bothered by the workers with the "proper gear" speeding by on their "hybrids" - or guys like me running or "power walking" -or guys like me, who take some fucking time to notice the same old man sittig there with his shit and smoking his smokes and sometimes smiling with his smoked-workingclass-honest-lonely-face
yeah, he's a lonely man - only sometimes he nodded back to my nods as i ran my ten-kay runs - id nod, and get nothing back - he'd nod, and id pretend to be too soaked up in my midnight-oil-stained-ipod running music
yeah, but i got back to almost my personal-best - some set backs for no good reason, but nothing stopped me - but now i see some guy riding his bike a couple of moves down from my running route - ringing bells! - sure, i'll wave - riinging bells again! - this time i'll pretend i dont notice - riiinging bells again! - thumbs up man, i hope you're well! - i run on - he rides on - two losers passing-by doing their best
lady-elle said "i thought you didn't like to get to know people" - or was it "i thought you weren't a people person" - i'm not - im nothing, and that makes me realise how i react to the nature of people, as opposed to their natural way of things...
my thoughts are not like yours - my life is hopefully not like yours either - you're only reading this fucking far because you've drunk enough, or smart enough, to realise weird isn't weird - quirky is fashionable and popular - eclectic is numb - communication is boring - cool is everything standing behind everything you think is cool - love is lost to the moviesoaked romantic, and struggling to life, questioned, to those alone on the beach thinking of their loved ones - music, love, life, truth is what you want it to be - not what some fucking tv show says it it, not what some fucking disposable movie says it is, not what your favourite character acts it out to be - and truth doesn't exist - nothing will last - trust everyone, and forgive them all at the same time
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty-One
yeah, misery - he who knows how is lying - he who knows why is lying - he who when is lying - he who is miserable is battling the truth, and battling alone - saturday and the fucking sunshine - blue sky smiling through the holes of all those green and golden leaves that are nodding their mellows minds in the same way a stoner nods to the groove of a wooden shjps song - i wake up loud after another rager - gotta do something in a life that always throws something at you - but i meander soulessly - nothing inspires me - i don't want to write - i don't want to reply or respond to anything that appears before me - i scan my music, pleading the doctors to subscribe me something - nothing - and it's at this point, at 10.30am, i know im in for a big one - a perfect sunny weekend with nothing to do but anything i want to do, and im stuck in the endless cycle of a frustrated misery - nothing inspires me to do anything - i just want to kill time before time kills me - i walk the rooms, poke my head into each one hoping pathetically something had changed - i move down the hallway knowing all well im just going to lie down in bed and not be able to sleep - i open the curtains, thinking lying in bed looking out the window at the perfect sunny saturday morning weather will help fool myself that i'll leave the house at some point during the day - lady-elle eventually comes in and takes a nap like an artist - i lie awake next to her and my mind torments itself as i listen to her breathing a soft and small sleep on the pillow next to mine - eventually, as i watch the colour of the day fall into dusk, i become depressed and i tell lady-elle - she wants to help but my long series of "i dunno" and "whatever" answers prove that nothing can help me now - sure, i'm aware - sure, i've been here before and i believe it's just a natural flow and everyone's wave crashes and swells - but this was the second one in a month - were my post-trip blues really this severe? - am i really falling out of control? - have my years of tempting and taunting madness and insanity finally come back to infest my mind? - have i lost my strength to keep it at length?
it tagged along as i pushed on through some more days - i was standing on a train reading about yuri gagarin - i was surrounded by some people and i let them be - i thought of all their buzz words and latest trends that i choose to ignore, but they assume im too far out of it join in - i know - my eyes and ears and mind are open - i realise, and i realise the real world - i look at one girl and think "friends with benefits..." and then in my fuck-you-mind i say "all of my friend have benefits" - and that was all it took for me to regain myself - one girl on a train and one little cynical thought - later i thought "from now on I only eat meat that has been raised by same-sex parents" - and then i thought i'll make an appointment at a hairdresser and just before i hang up i’ll say “oh wait! one more thing… do you also cut hair?” - and then i asked someone if they were going home too and deliberately and inappropriately asked for a lift home, even though i knew they lived on the complete otherside of the city - all for my own amusement, but knowing all well they'd find it funny too - and i was back and out of it, waiting for another sunny weekend to fatefully fall upon us
now is a perfect time to have some haiku i wrote in bliss in a national park in eastern lithuania...
lithuanian pine trees
you keep secrets
of the men in black jackets
mystery man
what do you need
with three nights in this hotel?
clouds drift
much slower
in a cold dusk
so far from home
alone, crazy with thoughts
- how did i get here?
boozy lithuanian night
your thunder
sounds industrial
cold beer
a pen and paper
my cleansed soul, and open mind
and with nothing to do
i realise
there is no need to do anything
drifting clouds!
wait right there!
i want to come with you!
two fighting ducks
- are you high
on global warming?
here i am, alone
- noone will ever be here
with me right now
the lake looks so cold
from my hotel room
- my beer is warm
this dusk is almost
so beautiful
i contemplate putting off my nap
two young girls
watching a boy on a bike
love, lust and heartbreak
van gough print
on my hotel room wall
- amazing, i have seen the original
like drawn curtains
those polite clouds
part for the sunset
whats the point of talking
to anyone
who hasn't been to lithuania?!
when i die
i want to be cremated
with my head buried in a book
an autumn dusk
i look to the sunset and think
god must be wanking
god must be wanking
- the sun sets
over a cold pine forest
still silent lake,
don't let the rain drops
wake you up
sitting on a chair
looking out the window
- days change so subtly
willow tree
- are you really
as lazy as you look?
the whole afternoon
spent looking out the window
who is stranger? me or my neighbour?
willow tree
when the wind blows
you deserve the nobel peace prize
home from dinner
a night out with you
my jacket smells like enchiladas
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Art Intimidating Life - The Ruins of my Mental Empire: Part Eighty
im listening to also sprach zarathustra
looking out the window
watching the trees
watching the leaves
watching the wind
thinking on it
i think about the cockroach
just sitting there
on the wall like that
clinging on, i guess
also sprach zarathustra
you know, the intro bit
it's amazing
the soundtrack for existance
i guess
i wonder if the cockroach can feel it
i wonder if the cockroach can hear it
is his tiny little mind blown
just as much as mine is?
that it, that's the ruins of my mental empire
my mind has been blown so many times
on a daily basis
all it takes is
a little attention
a little concentration
a little thought
and everything around you
is insanely beautiful
and insanely impossible
and insanely ridiculous
and insanely absurd
and im the insane one?
most people i know
think that i'm crazy
but they don't know
the half of it
they don't know the genius behind it
the level of truth behind it
am i crazy?
or just honest
open
i don't talk much
because every time i do
i feel like im joking myself
i feel like im not doing the truth justice
words cannot explain this
a night sitting at the bar
drinking
only comes close
but only just
sometimes i do it alone
sitting at a bar
drinking and thinking
and my mind lets loose
and i mean
it really fucking lets loose
im sitting at a bar
but in reality
im drifting in blankets
through an endless
and endlessly beautiful
existance
and somehow
i bore people with thoughts like this
how the fuck can thoughts like this be boring to anyone?
this isn't a theory
this isn't an idea
it's the truth
we're a product of nature
we're an insignificant dot
drifting aimlessly in the soul of infinity
we ignore the sun
we're bored of the moon
we abuse the planet Earth
but we're so happy with ourselves
the human race takes itself so fucking seriously
president of the united states of america?
fuck that
world leaders, religious figures, elvis presley?
the one and only god lies within the existance of existance
the only god we need to listen to
is that little voice that's trying to work it's way around your complex mind
that voice in your head is god
you realise that, don't you?
what's it's saying to you now?
did you have any control over what it was saying?
when i see people pointing fingers,
when i see people on television
i find it cute
look, they're trying to make a difference
look, they think this matters
look, they think it's important
why live in the world, when you can live in your head?
i had that hand written on my bag when i was at university
university - damn you
i had no idea how much it would affect me
potent seeds of psychedelic sarcasm
it's not pretty, and i should care
but im just a man
sitting in a room
with a cockroach
that's clinging to the wall
thinking to him/herself
what the fuck is this vast vertical
smooth surface?!
just as confused as i am
we're all in this together
however, only a select few of us
are in deep
real deep
and there is no escape
it's too late now
it's too late now
it's too late now
this life has nothing on me
my death is my god
my death is my god
my death is my god
my death is my god
my death is my god
my death is my god
my death is my god
my god
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