Skip navigation

Monthly Archives: December 2008

I awoke to snow it awakens my survival senses.
but more i awoke to remember we are many lives at once. and many futures if we do not live the one we are. I am distracted alot from my focus, it is my fault and my fight. Loneliness cast me into a land often un-record able. and for that i morn while i know i must go on with what i know as important. a day given to the truth is enough to last another day.

The winter presses on. snow in Washington lays on the street calmly getting packed down. Night to days, sun taking melting leisurely. No salt is very good for your car. but many roads become unpassable. and yet we go on.
Unemployment is still casting me in to a depression i am fighting, the long slow process of this job or that. my name on a line followed by all the information of a life time. of casting around the facts of my artistic nature. my surrendering into the vast underbelly of life style. Oh then let us add together the binds for i had “unemployment” until i moved to Washington. and till somewhere i am supposed to have it. I am being delayed but the acceptance of one state to acknowledge another. I watch and borrow rent , give blood for cigarettes and gas, go to shelters for food or to food banks. and look at the paper. again. As the economics gets worse. and many join my ranks, states kick us off the roles. because we had to move to find more work. I tried to come here to get a way from the pains. only to be here again and again. It is funny how i blame it on myself and yet. have not the ability to get beyond it. the pain of my lack of foresight , my inability to survive. somehow always effects me like this .. at 43 i should be able to get beyond it. something should click maybe there is something really wrong with me .
but then i look at the system scheduled against its lowest elements. I look at the family i had which forgot me as soon as it was allowed. We should never desert our children. . I look at the lesson I took from childhood , the roles my family perform now. I could do no less than i have done. but as each day is another day, I still recall what and why i have ended each day till now this way. I look at the mortgaged souls for schooling, compared to our world partners. the free schooling world . over there. every where but here and third world contrives. I look at our system of federal governance. which pulls form the the state funds, which denies me to try and save it’s self. While the Standard of income for the government is a million times higher than those they rule. Funny even prisoners get free schooling and are fed to bulk up such that they can fight each other easier. oh why didn’t i try and get into government work. lol.
but we must move on , the spiritual motive.
The Freedom to explore this human condition. But what of exploring the wealth ways. When you have to much and can not find your heart. oh the over baring of materialism. the accepted conditions for the conditions make you think it is all working so well. You would not bite the hand that feeds, well unless you got “god” , like every known rebellion some portion of the elite must bale, or bite the hand. So portion must come to understand progress is nothing without a common life style change. Or have enough sold out for the apple before the cart, watch as the “system” gives money to keep a portion of the middle class in the middle class, Bail outs for the auto industry. Keeping the middle in the middle. we don’t need the majority to shift that badly , for there would go the sell-outs who gave us the Bushes.
This same Auto industry who refused to change the cars to get better gas mileage. for they are in league with oil industries. We all know the electric hy-breds are coming. and yet they refused to create one until the prices raged. and they had to pay to fill those large tanks. and the next day almost they did exactly that. Corporate Conspiracy’s piling up. like a Bush white house leaving, like the Oil prices of last summer ( 08 ) the summer of 08, a title of a book unwritten, a symbol of how corporations conspire like the Iraq war mean recontrol to the oil fields, like the higher prices in oil are the mega profits supporting the Off the books Warriors, the Western mentality of Gun fights for control. for you can not impose a will without control being destroyed first.. Iraq is the staging grounds for Afghanistan. As large as Saudi Arabia, but undeveloped unexploited. and ruled by a religious order, Our real enemy unmentioned the Tailiban.
But first i must make it necessary, with the invention of the Al quida.. lol.. funny a couple of attacks and a target of one man who can not be caught. Whispers of the controller but never really known, all the planes leavening from one Old MONEY ( Boston) air port. The building which could never be brought down falls before anyone can investigate. ( seventy five percent vacated a real-a-state night mare) Like Saddam Hussan would be in a hole in the ground waiting for the us to come. surround by so much money he couldn’t carry. DAZED BY DRUGS.
no I believe he walked into the hands of the united states forces, like an agent being extracted, He ( or a man or a dummy with a black hood, A double for which he was Famous) was hung, The secret cell phone footage (which can’t even take good video of your girlfriend ) , Leaked for Television. the crowd ,, the secret staged crowd, the members only crowd, made up of the rest of the look alikes, just to keep you guessing who is who. It is funny you shave a man and give him a Store Twenty Four and he keeps his mouth shut or will be killed with a chip in his brain if he ever says a word of reality. SO he over charges for Twinkies so what. He has given many years of loyal service to the secret missions of the corporate classes,, and you know they take care of their own. Look at the Largest non-bidder of the war, that has taken it’s “world headquarters” to Dubi. How American to leave the country when you have ripped them off like a thief in the night. Imagine the parties after Bush leaves office. Bush the first President to be divorced because of the all night coke parties. (oh that is right there was not a connection between Hailburton and the Presidency, my bag…)
But i digress, as they say , for what concern is it to an unemployed man who can not get out of his bathroom at two in the afternoon, who could never see the government as his friend, who failed in the military cause of his need to explore the recesses of his brain. and at forty three can still play a guitar without getting paid. and who still writes without the same to preserve freedom. the only freedom poverty.
it is not mine to comment. Who would or does care what i say, and why do i feel closer to my computer than to any human person. I keep my house to ensure my computer’s safety, my hope my pain my love. the non-materialness of electric.
And so Sunday morning. I never liked the word morning, like it defeats as the sun comes up. Rise of day. would be more peaceful, less underwritten with a forecasted doom. Even if you don’t hear it. like capitalism.
Last night a one night dream. You know how you dream in things you don’t have. I dreamt of being a cab driver, who had a problem with one of the family that owned the company. A cousin or brother was my nemesis, and so the whole dream i stood in a defensive posture, So alone in the world that this final stand was to be my martyrs bread, with all the forces there in front of me. to misunderstand the road i was on enough to have a point larger than me. a moral point to rest true reason against but loose my life because of. A common story for me. The abuses i would not take. The justice that would work against me for standing at all. Congratulations you are correct and now you are fired. For abuse is written into the system. All of it. You are made to sigh and bare it or you are me justified and without the common existence one should have in food and housing. And even as i am not there right now . I am in my head ,
Just waiting the days. again, and every movement is only a delaying of the inevitable, and against that you rise. against your better judgment which says stay down. stay down and accept the pains you have self inflicted for having a sense of the historic, the poetic, as a human. You are not a character in some plot driven novel. a story which comes to be read and used to the reasoning of a larger teaching. No you are a human, like the millions of ants who think, you are but one. and endless is the the sound of that thinking. The roaring screams in under a created system of a foot falling. No we are in life. a created dialogue of slave and master, accept the whip is a bill, a utility, a law. A system that creates minor slaver owners, of all kinds of levels. the Landlord, the boss, the doctor, the politician, with all kinds of over lords on them. Even one being used unstill they can not produce, wasting lives stretched into the daze of another’s usage. make ten to make them thirty, all business all lawful. A motto is created, “I do not give you for i have not been given” and we watch with detachment the crying eyes for there are eyes could be crying. ONe miss step off the rail and all end up at the bottom.
And then Christmas, winter Solistis, the Eight day candle, change and a savoir. against the truth such that we give gifts to prolong and ascent the difference of our positions. We send gifts to those who have to move to the slaver’s wills. Who separate us and remove the strength of family. As ancient as a captured people, we cry at the longing for home land. For a touch to replace more material in which we have to imagine the love and remember our separation is only till death. What is life? When we suffer so much, that we have to dress up a holiday and forget its meaning soon after. the feeling last a week and then we make resolution to remember and forget them automatically cause they are a last connection with the model of Christmas. It was good that someone came up with the reasoning of a God as Love. to bad not even the Practise can survive for long against the greed of law.
It was snow last night. I can see it on the car. and over the village. the cold creeps in where ever there is not heat to keep it at bay. where ever the heart is not willing to produce warmth because of the destitute sights of product and consumption. And i tell myself to forget to remember me. and as i run from my humanness as it makes a fool of my morality, i have not food because of the blurred lines of truth. I made a stand Alone.
that is why i must always remember the first lines of my entries, A new day. Another day. The hope comes with this, and yet the spirit seems never to get its day, even in the fantasy of a Holiday of love will not change the Amassing of troops on an age old war fought constantly since the begining of the written word and before. the here of my blood on foreign soil, the there of my love wasted against on Legal bills inflicted,, on all. Ever wonder why no system has Free Utilities. with mandatory energy usage. and progressive demands of manufacturing.. My gift to you
INvest in Knowledge ,, to go off the grid. Teach others. INvest in Solar Energy companies, for i have been watching and the market is going to crash out HOUse hold Utilities, there will be an excess of Poli-silicon (polly si), in three years. (( Made from SAnd ))
Oh yea the dream.. It was a stand off , with one man ,, he was not the boss,, the boss watched for a little while,, then left,, three children came in ,, and even as we both played nice for the children ,, the enemy gave no ground ,, and a fight was in the eyes. Until the family , all of them, came back,, as the children left they surrounded me,, one with a baseball bat pushed against my thigh.. the scene panned out to a bridge and a downward falling body.. The fight was over a working environment.

it is another day.

I awoke this morning
with snow on the ground.
white puffiness creating
soft edges of things,
hiding the hard
sharpness controlling
terror at another
day without job or means.
and i remember..
We take time from one
to live another
greedily we want both
and hope
one can see the other’s importance
but people and things only see themselves
things aren’t able to understand
but people might.
and i wake thinking of the vision for the enertialcall website. I have seen the vision long ago. and moved west to get a handle on my art and dreams . on the importance of telling you about the concepts , of creating a place for which could help and balance. the truth is made up of the inert. the rock. Truth is to be identified. only in ourselves is there any hope for the world. and we must understand it to live it.
these are the truths I have see..
our live is made up of how we think. We unite in the mind Or don’t.
how humanity contemplates Death is how we live live
death is timeless
life is timeless
our connection is our conscious perspective
to focus is energy and faith
we can not focus without a conscious perspective.
we must create the balance through ourselves
and the ideas come for all else in every system.
I am creating the enertialcall to help others, see. to help myself see. we are linked to energy we are responsibly to all through our personal abilities to change. We must eliminate the control of religion. we must accept our roles . and in that we must relearn, regrow, retool ourselves to meet the challenges. for which our world has forsaken.
I propose unity through website.. because i know if our Goal statement is inner peace for world peace we will change the world for all.
the world is filled with traumas, you and i are each our own, to see these “happening” is one step of conscious change. Life is timeless. I am not the years of abuse, until i am able to handle it. I can reach for a greater truth until i can handle the personal truths. A greater truth reveals the cause and mis-clairties of greater systems as a person so the world. as planet is as you. we are all nature.
the first step is always to realize our timelessness. and to see that death is a creation of humanity to explain change, but it is not to be used as a weapon against us. we are to invite the truth that eliminates the prejudices of body over spirit. Such that spirit is energy in all things and people.
and even as proof is the point of science, we can not wait for it.
proof research Gravitational Waves. brain waves, Neutrons, Quantum Physics.
but then come back to understand we are to change and adapt, we must understand our own energy to eliminate prejudices, for spirit is without color,nationality, or class. Spirit just is as energy is a progressive common sense. the Wave of change will come if not let to flounder in the wars and criminal behaviors of religions. we can not separate from spiritualism, it controls how we live through our health mental and physical. spirit has technologies, as in mediation and Tai chi, yoga. It is a concept of food as in Chemically free food. Spiritualism is Natural.
and Philosophic.
our abilities for change stem from the perspectives we live. the enertialcall wishes only to present ideas written many places separately.
I just wanted to create a source for furthering that point for which an artist might wish to do. I am an artist and my first canvas is myself. and through that i am spirit.
these entries tell of the thoughts i have along my path, a personal path yes, but in that i do not believe in a just me, and hope you can see my humanness is the telling of an adaptation.
I awoke to snow it awakens my survival senses.
but more i awoke to remember we are many lives at once. and many futures if we do not live the one we are. I am distracted alot from my focus, it is my fault and my fight. Loneliness cast me into a land often unrecordable. and for that i morn while i know i must go on with what i know as important. a day given to the truth is enough to last another day.

we are all crazy
waiting in line
waiting for something
we don’t have
the freedom of what
we do.

It is another day. Slowly it has spun around and i blame and know it is my fault I sit and wait out the numbness to advance into a feeling. A survival feeling that comes after a long wait. the line at the Food Mission was not long when i went today. Surrounded by people all like and dislike me. Some shaking form some mental disorder ordering them to shake. Others yelling over to someone they know with a howdy that says nothing is wrong. It is a jail house hello ,, a “ I have been here for to long and for to many years” A subtle hello marking the victims remorse for birth and an acceptance of the Christ child slavery. All before a meal. hot in the cold rain of Washington state. the left over economy of shelters. and food lines. Of the chinks in the armor of welfare. and social security. The heart of capitalism is the back bone of the oppressed. You have to be pushed to the bottom to survive the rats normalcy. such that this is the other side completely of the televised response. The dirty and angry, hurt and hurting, addicted and addicting. this place that never leaves you and you leave yourself out side.
I have been to worst places. and I am reminded of German, a morning meal with one sausage and a bagel. and tea. A poor American is not really welcome but you get the same as everyone. food doesn’t seem to be wasted as much there there is so little and it is a lot more expensive. but the people are the same , only the language was different. Thank God we won the war, I think walking into the main room after signing any name i feel like it at the counter upstairs. I guess i don’t feel bad walking in cause I am hungry, no work for the last two months. One meal a day weather i like it or not. And today this is it.
the reminder of prison makes me know the poverty is the prison of our state. Here where i can not get up , Cause i have never really been able to get up. I was stuck since I was young. My will turned to a feel good world where just feeling good was enough. the pain gone after years of physical abuse. I was a child, and yet now i feel older , look older, but still don’t seem to be older. the years passing like gods moments. like a dinosaurs age lasted and was gone. like we are and then we are not. I has stopped Feeling good, to wake up to nothing accept these words, and the art on my walls of my own hand. I have only the understanding of what we rise from. and as i walk into this hall for the food i need , i think inside of the same. the need maybe that is the only journey that is real. beyond the politicians, and philosophers. the religions and misaligned nature of the schooled and schooling we still can’t seem to teach the basics of self being and often it is this knowledge that is held against us for knowing.
I have left jobs, because i started to understand to much on how to do it and could see it done wrong.
Maybe it is my ego that has started all this. You see after the abuser left. I felt like i had done this , I had survived, and the rest of my life would be peaceful. I guess that means i started to become independents early, I roamed the streets, met all challenges. and stared into the fears of others with some dominance that no one could cross. I couldn’t be touched. I have survived. and alone the spirit makes its way. That ego is still mine I guess. But it seems to be wearing off. Cause i want.. I want … I want to create and tell stories which can help the achiever inside everyone. to know we can survive ourselves after all the effects we make of our lives.
the light blue and white walls are all tile , like a vertical dull chess board. they can be cleaned off easily. Every day this house gives out meals three times a day. noon is sandwiches. and I hardly ever care what i eat, so the choice of split pea or chicken soup is small blessing, and the sodium of the canned soup doesn’t enter my thoughts. or that ham is pork which often gives me some days of queerness, after. It is food, essential.
Small steps seem to come now. as i get older maybe minutes are not days, and i have wasted twenty four as i have died many times before and yet still will.
Still Will.
no more.
small steps can not be jumped,, the wheel can not be totally recreated, and the emotions of existence are existence. the soup tastes interesting with half inch pieces of ham, the salty tastes is enough to fill. And at least they really taste like ham. I have over piled my plate with food I liked the color of and didn’t taste, and when i do I find i don’t like them and don’t like myself because i put to much on the plate. the Greed i guess, Everything is a symbol of everything. the apple sauce is one of my favorite foods yet the little brown spots I thought were raisins, they aren’t. i don’t know what they are and have to throw out good food cause i thought i would like and eat it all. I feel bad cause i can’t.
So many years to let go of emotions I never had to live. I like the color of the life i created, A still peaceful dream away from the childhood pains. I always wanted to write. to tell you of the confusion and sufferance a person feels standing in the wind without human connection. A place we all are and never alone in. this is the process of being human and the humanities don’t speak enough about the paths , we skit the issues with tales of the criminals or the reasoning of the “just”. but our lives are left to us to misunderstand and feel our way though,, But do we feel. have often though we feel there fore we are. and in that I know i have need to write this and feel it also.
ON the way out of the Bellingham Mission. I thank the man at the counter, my pockets filled with oranges. and two cupcakes in my hands. we take away what we need. then into the rain. to my car. A man just outside the door. Yell over from his van, “ hey bro” gesturing to come closer to him with some private mission , purpose or motion. Maybe only in art can i find community, i walk on like the facts of not being swayed to something I don’t know , for the good feelings i do. kada019