The weight of gravity

What cannot honestly be?
Is stolen!
Incidentally; the intended -
a cause.
Stop or I'll shoot . . .
I'll survive the punishment.
signaled: of an idiosyncratic fault.

Tears of destination

the myth vs. reality
a nature of behavior
the study of greeds absence
in color.
the alk of such despair
from the shadow of a tree's
shade, not possessed.
In a land of
chocolate cherries
and rubber nectarines
Through it all,
I am miles ahead
of you. . .
in getting the most
out of life.

Coarse Salt

Like the pumping, runned through my veins.
I am the blood!
That, I get easily confused once upsetted?
Then, I tell myself to slow-down.
That I maked;
to guess of.
To have' guessed of its nature. . .
how comforted I must be.
I focused on no important things:
that unethical it feeled.
Random in my mind.
A vision.
That of nothing,
not unethically obligated.
That hided my intelligence of a fairer virtue.

Workmanship

I have given time;
sugar. . .
no tea with sugar.
I wrote this as though?
No lack of interest!
My, as my own.

When I was a teenaged warewolf

The complacency I react with can sometimes be how to predicate, what about my future might be? The future is a powerful source - or as I believe - makes me think in solutions to things. Suffering now will payoff later in life. Not trying is for losers!

In my beliefs, the dogma, from which positive energy comes into being and the negativity of thoughts cannot penetrate the soul. What exists in my distance of a future that creates my predicted past?

From what distance is the future?

Instead of criticizing others, I concentrate on my own work.

This idea is straightforward and simple. . . reality not 'fantasy' of a future.

Minor Injury

I refuse to
bring down with
me; hands that
touch me own.

What is success

What about my success? What success is! I've become a kind of promised monk; that the things I used to feel inadequately of myself no longer exist. It's a personal kind of matter. One that grows into me personally and spiritually as well. My arms feels as though they are outstretched. Open wide.

I can say a lot more about my success story.

I think of myself as no ordinary individual, but I can see how well I've managed to become something of myself in time. My beliefs are filled with transparency and honesty regarding the events that have happened in my life up to this point.

Part of me was gullible, compared to why I believed I was 'no good'. That part of me hasn't evaporated, it's been renamed. . . loyalty. My loyalty is a strength. Many people recognize me because of how good natured I am.

Success is not economics or propoganda, as in, observing what to do or act a certain manner. However, I have slowly earned my own self respect and that no one can take away from me.

A neurosis feared

No limits of importance.
That taking off:
in matters of opportunities granted?
I jamp over the water;
into another puddle!
SPLOOSHED.
My fuel for thought.
My hunger for a shot of fruit punch. . .
that aroma it filled my nostrils.

Today

I have come a long way from being closer, to the near death experience I had as a teen-ager. When I was 17. I had just had my 18'th birthday. I really didn't experience life. It was the car accident. Not BECAUSE of the car accident. What if I blamed myself, because of the guilt over that tragedy in my life?

What a way to begin my life as an adult.

It was August 28, between 2-4 in the afternoon around Flacon Lake in Mantioba. I was driving back home to Winnipeg from Kenora. Someone was sitting next to me in the passenger seat. Her name is Amanda. Amanda was asleep. I fell asleep at the wheel. During the final moment that I did finally wake up, it was too late. The car rolled into a ditch.

But here I am, today.

The me and the I

The, I factored in;
then there was. . . me.
It's all about:
ME?
I almost died!
Embarassed by the fact
that no one else
can tell my guilt from,
safely.
Not short on confidence, safely
without the temper.
The cast of ugly ducklings. . .
the cause of an
insulting behavior.
DO NOT INSULT MY BEHAVIOR.
Every show is cancelled.
None are permitted.
The karma of my mind.
The time for magical romance has arrived.
A safer kind of nudity.
A savage role reversal, psychology.
The Ugly duckling's
not I -
as I feel is it.
The conversation of man,
and its double.
A double life.
Of eternal quality.
Without my being executed or excluded,
a firm wallet in my
pocket.
Even if I wanted things
that either listen to me,
or lack the flavor.
Savage, material objects.
Without my being executed or excluded,
DO NOT INSULT MY BEHAVIOR.

How Happy

A retreated heaven!
I've defeated myself?
The responsibility of an authority;
my faith in loyalty.
Hypocrisy, of an unconditional-love.

Humility

I feel virtually no hostility;
it is a feeling of longing!
That, I have become in this?
The reason being -
my new found search for truth.
When, as I have
- in such a daring manner.
What, one does once they've reached that pinnacle.
Not that I pretend to feel as I become.

Bank Robbery

There is a difficult time,
that once I felt something. . .
strangely.
Though at the time of being asked;
what amount?
How much I did not recollect!
I only wanted ransom:
a large portion of it.

A demon's tale

There is a demon:
called depression.
I do not wish for this;
I want it to go away.
When it does come?
I feel isolated,
and my own thoughts
are interrupted!

I want the demon to go away,

but it keeps me company when I least welcome it.

Throwing the hammer down

The difference between the act of jealousy and conceit is a fair comparison. I often wonder how people reject the idea.

It seems to me that whatever people appear to be on the surface of life, doesn't matter as much until they seem to show off an inhibition beyond what was meant from the original point of contact.

To illustrate the example, I found myself being tested.

The question is: how to "test" if there exists a difference in knowing jealousy vs. conceit. The nature must be a characteristic presented in doubt of something happening, because the trust involves ones personification or identification with the other individual causing a test.

The answer to the question is: jealousy can exist but it is depending upon the level of conceit another person provides.

(This is a metaphysical proposition.)

1) You cannot cancel one thing or the other thing acting on conceit or jealousy.
2) People in general, are not easily confronted with jealousy or conceit nor can it be anticipated.
3) Ones participation does not reflect a choice being made not does it interfere with it being replicated by another.

The conclusions -

as an example of examining the relation between conceit and jealousy? I'm reminded of a time that a person I know, I was forced in responding to a question I did not initiate. "Why, jealous?" The intent of the person, related to a gift that had not been opened. My observation of the event, was that I could not cover my lack of jealousy through the manner which was expressed. Did I act with conceit? (Was the question a probable misconception, that the conceit I displayed to understand the person's question?) I interpreted the question in one way and one way only. If I mirrored the concept of jealousy as such, then my conceit is the manner in which the person who asked expressed their pleasure. Therefore, my own interpretation could only have covered the other person's noble gesture. Could I have possibly answered, "No, I'm sorry but I am presently too conceited to be jealous of anything."

today is mardi

It took me only a couple of days, but I finally figured something out! It was on Saturday night. The woman that propositioned me. . . she's a prostitute. The fact is that it probably did occur to me, because of her mannerisms and movements. She gave no false impression of being someone that wanted to talk to me.

As she sat down next to me, and lit up her cigarette. "You look like your going to pass out here. You been here a while." Next thing I knew, she thought she already picked me up. I gave her no response, other than wanting her to believe I thought she might be genuinely interested in me. She wasn't.

After that brief exchange; the woman who arrived unexpectedly, all of the sudden, again changed the situation. Her focus was not on me, but on her not finding the extra money she needed for the night. Along with that came the pat on the shoulder she gave to me, and as she parted with her gesture expressed a phrase filled with conceit. The exact words are unable to be recalled from memory.

Sadly, it made me ponder with the execution of myself being there presented with this mistress in that moment.

My question now is how could I have not known instantly. Perhaps, indeed I did intuitively may have questioned her motive? However, the cause for my advancement was not one to reciprocate the prostitute. She wanted a sure sign, she would take advantage of an opportunity as it presented itself.

I almost guessed something was wrong with me, but I sure did not know the what this all meant at the time. Now, I see it was not a mistake I made. On the contrary. It proved I am only human. The mistake I almost made, was allow this prostitute to make me feel inferior about myself. It might have made more sense, if I automatically knew what the experience I was in involved.

To me this is all rather shocking. To think back and now fully understand what had happened without truly compreheding what was going on during that brief moment. It happened so fast, that I actually thought something was wrong with me.

Life is funny that way, it brings you to a path and the paradox of choices you make. And, in this case a choice that I can fully take the credit. A twinlkle in my eye, like a spiritual advisor whispered into my ear so only I can hear the voice. "Don't do it, be strong." And it scared the prostitute into thinking, her cover was blown.

Dwight D Eisenhower -

Most things which are urgent are not important, and most things which are important are not urgent.

It was as though I thought about what had happened, at that moment, and realized the prostitute was the person at fault. But how did I know, possibly a metaphsyical phenomenon of this nature can exist?

There is an answer.

My purpose is to be something like a leader, and true leaders are those that decide in the moment of truth what happens.

I could have felt guilty, if I allowed the prostitute to get the better of my emotions, for even if a split second the prostitute thought about victimizing me. She would have succeeded had I felt defenseless before she trapped me.

The point is that the prostitute did not succeed.

As so many things in my life, like the tragedy of my car accident, or hitting my head in a ski accident. I am uncertain.

My uncertainty results in everything that has become so permanent in my life, like tragedy of these ordeals, such as accidents involving my past. My history has nothing to do with a past life, or a former self. I have always been resiliant and stoic in leading by my own example.

Eisenhower-
Motivation is the art of getting people to do what you want them to do because they want to do it.

My motivation hasn't been to take advantage of anything or anybody. People, who know what spirituality means but actually have no real connection through the mind or body. It is my spirituality that has protected me from standing on the edge of reason. Only my essence as a human being can I travel far.

Racing in the War Canoe

The sound of raging water;
not far below. . .
in the distance beneath the echo.
A drum beats loudly:
louder then the rain.
When you lead a life,
as tragic as my own?
Wearing a rain coat!
But I've aged,
wisely.

Because of the accident

Accidents, were made to happen?
Are they;
now in the perfect position to honor. . .
what effect it might have.
How did the purpose become decided!
Do you know the effects of what you do:
and how it becomes a factor.

Rebounded

I was given the impression;
of airing my dirty laundry?
With the exception of it being displayed!
The assets of acting as an accomplished individual:
in assuming what can only be assumed.
Through my sense of urgency.
Like a palm tree. . .
or a branch of cherries.

Nauseated with feelings

If I tell you what not to ask of me;
will you lend me your ear?
However, do not ask me about how,
or how many!
I often get disgusted with the,
take-one, take-two, take-three.
You see my double:
you have seen me before and after, that time.
Now I can imagine,
being in a movie with that same moment.
The moment you recognized me. . .
playing good cop / bad cop.
Jeckyl and Hyde.
My raw hide,
knowing between the reality and
the ideal.
Faded into memory.

The over-achieved

It is that heightened sense of ambition!
I would hope the ears;
could possibly not be as infected?
Though somewhere through the. . .
make-believe world.
The avant-garde:
half of its wanted-to,
- the common sense tells you not to.

An Inexcusable Obsession

With the comedy of errors;
I drive through the shade.
My mind in a hurry!
Is it lumber that I hear,
being hammered together?
A little castle:
dead on arrival.
What setted me off,
was the few of us getting whatever they
could, big or small, for whatever they had to offer.
A compliment of my character inhibition.
I thought. . .
if boundaries were made to protect a perfect world.
Boundaries in a perfect world not threatened of disillusion.
Not disillusioned.
These boundaries of my true character.
Like Rambo,
peddling.
Like Elvis,
nobody can steal my dancing shoes.
Something unethical about the truth in a lie.
Where boundary of character,
is the universal truth.
When seen, every disease known to man.
The likely story of survival,
the noble lie,
the delusioned truth.
Like Canada,
in this country.
Pieces of me, taken care of, my love.
A huge mystery -
not to be cured.
- If it were enough,
big, bigger, biggest.
Vaulted into the reception of a prince.

The lottery

Today, could be the day. . .
everyone understands me!
To help a person;
like myself.
Though sometimes,
my mind is not where it often should be?
Like winning:
the lottery.
Even if you craved for it,
have you heard about such a 'craving'.
I crave raisin pie and a cup of coffee.
I do not crave,
the television as a solution to bordom.
BORDEM.
Like playing:
the lottery.
But on days like these,
there are many different choices to be made.
None of them suggested,
that somehow a lottery has been won.
My needs are much fewer than imagining how,
a lottery could satisfy every desire.
Winning the lottery is not special,
but a fantasy for sure.
I have craved the taste of nothing in particular.
Just a chance:
the lottery prize.
Concepts of logical twists and turns,
the lottery was never one of them.
You do what you can,
and never once craving the lottery.
It becomes forgotton.
What should I do, now.
What can I be doing,
while the mind shuts its blinds down.
Perhaps, dreaming of the lottery.
The prize.
The $$$.
But none of those things.
None of it.
None, of it matters.
And I continue to be less negligent,
then pretending if I won.
Then, people would say as if they stopped
dead in their curiosity.
Look - look at that man.
Pointing in my direction.
He acts as though he just won something.
Young man, they would ask me:
did you just win the lottery.
And I would smile and lie to them.
Yes, yes I would lie to them all in shame.
Embarassed.
No, no I did not win the lottery.
Just to get the reaction.
That they would expect?
I did win the lottery.
But not because they thought I did.
Only because I know better,
that they would not think the lottery.
In my own private thoughts,
of a supermarket.
In a gorilla costume,
and a gallery of milk.

Tales of an Add-h mind. . .

At the moment there is nothing wrong with me. Considering, how restless I can be. . . I feel I have been able to manage with myself. I'm doing just fine.

In fact, I am not feeling depressed, but I've also been able to manage my mood. That being said; shows what a long journey that's made me suffer. However, I do not continue to suffer! I don't feel like I always used to get, if things were not going my way? If things weren't going my way: I would let it bother me. I'd be low on self-esteem. It'd be something that I could not control. I ask should I have changed the way I already have, couldn't be easy, without being commited to changing. I shouldn't look at my life's circumstances, because I can always believe in the person I have become.

The truth is that I have changed every bit as much from a time I used to describe me.

There was a time, when all I thought was, "He's going to get screwed." Who is 'he'? It was myself.

That was then, this is now.

My inner voice no longer says you're "screwed". It has made me stronger.

Unwrapped

Gifts of fine coffee spoons!
In the days of jealous-raging animals?
But, on several ocassional incidents;
of a high-powered intention.
In the future. . .
perhaps.
In the future:
something like candy.
Something not like candy,
but more like
a competition.
A competition between empathy,
and for the defeated enemy.
A life-saver of the thought objective.
That looks of common-sense,
a convenience has in its own rewards.
Something like a tourist,
on a permanent field-trip.

Heavy hearted

In such times of distraction;
the few minutes left are?
Probably, from a further distance!
The, greatest gift of all came from memory:
of my childhood rearing mother and father.
My childhood sibling, my sister.
The safety of how loving a life.

Head-Butt

I was asked;
"My boyfriend says he doesn't
trust people, more specifically,
actors with no real common
sense perception."
To which I replied then, "You
must think you have a pretty
smart boyfriend."
To which begged the question:
is her boyfriend not an outlaw?
Boy, did I have a good laugh!
Free-loading where the cookie jar
is hidden, kept from
view.
To which the truth, is
only a common sense,
advantage.
The trade of artistic moments,
those of scissors and a Chinese lantern.
That a lesson of disbelief.
All in the direction of desire.

Northern Rose

To the southernmost exterior,
the interior of its land. . .
there is a colony.
Something majestic?
In the experiment,
the conclusions were:
filled with mistakes and regrets.
In the context of a bully;
research has shown the nature of god.
Though, not thought of in place of ruins!
In time, the trust for such high standards,
the shoes became too big.
Like old mother hubbard.
Therefore, everything in the response came only
with a ripe piece of fresh watermelon.
So that everyone would pass it around to enjoy.
The ship has set sail,
and the victory already won
that it did not matter if thier was a winner.
Only losers.
The losers mattered most of all.
The tests have given the results,
that seeds from the juicy watermelon float if compared
to soil in water.
The seeds are spit out, not swallowed.
Such enormous shoes to wear without any reason not to.
Why, swallow a world of seedless tasty watermelon without.
Roses and bear claws.

A bushel of assets

There is something about spontaneity;
that I know.
That I know?
That I, know!
How such a cause:
makes me smile.
All of it. . .
for the misery of happiness,
that mystery of purpose.

Where Pride Counts

Why the Potuguese could not find how to beat the royal blue of France in Germany? I guess the streak will continue, due to the penalty kick awarded. The reward for this match was a trip to the World Cup Final against Italy is not meant to be! However, the french were not going to score another goal in the game, if Portugal would have tied it. No one will ever know, unless a crazy man on his parachute, should he have glided down into the stadium unannounced might have saved the day for Portugal before France was given a penalty kick.

Lunar Landings

A vague recollection from memory,
that costed how much in time. . .
of a quiet faint sound.
I have formed;
a trusted organizational indifference.
Where there is:
love?
There is controversy!
Where there is,
interference,
there is,
tolerance.
For all I have wanted,
I may have lost of it.
And, quite the contradiction of affairs,
between the face of challenge.
I swing in from the ceiling of broken dreams.
Only to help in seeing.
It has disappeared,
into a categorical error in judgment.
From an emotional surface of breaking ground,
the barriers of resistance.
The execution.

Feared of response

Thank god for; cherries!?
The, that king:
has reduced the price of grapes.
That foolish pride.
Much like. . .
THE LOUDER VOICE.
That noise of expectant mother's,
with the idea of pregnant thoughts.
The most feared of reactions,
or not.
In such purpose I proposed,
a candle lit on in the distance.
For such pleasure of preparing and method in
my journey home.
Some find in ecstasy.
Where nothing remains casual upon my interest of choice.
I have invented a rythym.
Not as haunting as my own.
A game of pick-up-sticks.
Reached nirvana.
And in death as do I honor, the.
The sweet tasting blueberries,
of that a righteous sense I odor.

The Forgotten One

There come moments that are;
in any man!
That of a man's life?
Whereas fate and consequence meet:
not found beneath his feet.
But rather no longer vulnerable or as. . .
intimidated in facing the elements for surprise.
That he can smell the rain.
That once upon a time,
all meaning was lost.
It disappeared, and generated thoughts
of pure intellect and delight.
When truth not despair, gave me the rejoicing
and saved me from dejection.
The same delight in not having feared the worst is over.
The same kind of a meaningless afterthought,
that only the stars start raining down upon you.
Such vibrant rays of light.
There are many moments in time.

Many of these moments,
that a man is no longer vulnerable.

Many of these moments,
that a man is no longer thought of.

Many of these thoughts,
that a man is no longer intimidated
and face the elements.

And for starters everything that has been revealed,
was only required.

Limited in thought, but shared in great abundance.

The difference

As tears surround an island of watchful people;
the sun has risen this time.
And, the modest occassion of beautiful - creation!
Such a ritual of bones and beards?
That in this difference I may appear:
like a child reborn.