Not today. This day belongs to me. Today I will push the clouds away. Yes, I can see them outside thick and heavy and warm and grey in the summer sky. But not in my summer sky. I don't care how loud I have to play the music, how much weight I have to press in the gym, or how many coffees or glasses of wine I need. I will not succumb to the fear and misery today. I am the light. I am fighting for my little piece of this earth where I, too, can enjoy a pleasant existence. Not war all the time. There is no point in war if there is no peace. And I will have my peace today. I will fight my battles. But in dignity. I will not bow down and have pain command my existence. I will make this battle into a glorious, dramatic, memorable yes pleasurable experience. This is my freedom, this is my choice. If I must suffer I will at least enjoy my suffering. If I must get stronger, I will at least embrace the strengthening. If I must wait, then I will make patience into a triumphant dance through the night. I can feel the gods between the stars looking down in delight. The spirit surrounds me and it lights up the darkness like fire.
He took a long slow breath. It was done. Well, for today it was anyways. Life had this funny habit of throwing challenges at him in a pace that left him no time to breathe. The washing machine had broken down to days ago so he called the repair man. "it's gonna be 140 quid" he said. "sure thing". the day later the repair man was in and found out that it was only a button stuck in the drainage pipe. a bloody button. he was glad the repair man had the decency to just charge him a fifty for the call out. relieved of the expense he sat on his computer and ordered himself a cook book he had been thinking of getting in the past few days but it was a bit on the expensive side. japanese. limited edition print. i will spare you the details. satisfied with himself he smiled and turned back to his work. he put the empty coffee cups from earlier and placed them into the dishwasher. as he tried to turn it on he found himself looking at a hysterically blinking warning lamp.. he goes another one. he thought to himself. ill be damned if i ever get a bloody break.
His father was sitting in the chair watching Tv. He was getting older and during the weak he was not much of a person to talk to. He felt angry. He felt entitled to more than he was getting. From his work. His work was his life. To him it was, or so he thought. In reality he was surrounded by so much more. There was a loving partner, always by his side, full of wisdom and intelligence and generosity. There was his son. Who adored him. There was his house. It was nice. In a nice neighbourhood. There were so many people who looked up to him. But all he ever did was feeling disappointed in himself. And as such he was channelling his own father who probably felt the same way. And now he was passing it on to his own son. With the way he challenged him the minute he walked through the door. With the way he tried to impose himself. And the son? He was in a weak state after a breakup and a business failure. But he had discovered something. It did not have to go on this way. This was going to be the end of this cycle. It was going to stop here and then, today. he was not for another minute willing to carry an old man's burden who had long passed away.
He could feel things moving in his life slowly. It was about time. He had spent the last decade and a half smoking cigarettes and drinking whisky. When he wasnt drinking coffee to get over last nights hangover and to get ready for then ext one to come. But it had happenend. it wasnt a story like so many where his self pity would have compelled him to magically one day change his life. quite the opposite. he had barely any of that left anyhow. what was going on was mmore subtle and more radical at the same time. it had been building up in him for all these years like the grains of sand accumulation in a clock. slowly. steadily. and here he was, in he had reached a critical mass. he knew this was his one chance. this was his shot at making sense of the sheer endless sensless dull waiting. he was ready for the first time in his life. it was precisely because he had nothing left to lose. it took him so long to lose it all and now he was not going to waiste another minute.
The church bell sounded through the old singles glazed windows. The radio played Mahler. He lit his cigar which had gone out while he was so immersed in his news paper that the ash had fallen off and with it any remaining glow. It was staring at his face and and soon as it had attracted his interest he lost it again. he came back to the present. the music. oh good old mahler. how the tunes could make him feel. he felt the love of god in it. it didn't happen to much to him anymore that he let himself feel these deep emotions. the profession he had chosen for his living made it necessary for him to keep a certain distance from events most of the time. too many of his peers had failed by being caught up in things, by being pulled in, by getting attached and most of all by taking things personal that should have never been taken personal in a game a raw and brutal as nature has been since eternity. but this little pleasure, the music, it was safe to enjoy and he gave himself to it with all of his heart.
Goldberg walked up to the creator who was peacefully sitting on the bench in the market square. The creator was smiling, his eyes closed and the warm late afternoon sunlight cast a golden shine on is face. Wrinkles of wisdom were graciously hiding the fact that his mildness once too was acquired through harsh lessons. And he sat there he felt Goldbergs approach magically and greeted him with an ever increasing smile. The whole universes love at that moment seemed to flow through him to greet the arriving soul who now felt as if they had knows each other - not only before but for eternity. "Sit down", the creator gently said to Goldberg. And so they sat for a moment of silence. And this silence set the stage for many awesome things to come.
now this is going to be the one i will publish today. so i am talking to you reader. i have something to tell you: read the article published in the huffington post this morning. i found it via flipchart. oh yea - get that too, seriously its cool. so why do you need to read an article on huffington post and which one is it? first question is answered easily: cause i say so. second one is more valid. the answer to that one would have to be: cause it is talking about this subject we all here evidently share an interest in: free writing./ they call it morning pages. three pages of this every morning and it will do bloody wonders for your creativity. i cheated. when i said bloody i wanted to say motherfucking. then i thought of you and what the would sound like so i censored myself. so. motherfucking magic I'm telling you. i have no idea if thats true or not but i was quite intrigued by it. also i like her metaphor of who publishing something everyday is like steriod for the creative. i do agree with that notion. so lets have fun. peace, love, happiness, whatever
Hey now Hey now, don't dream its over... Hey now hey now... when the world comes in... i have cleaned up the room. that is the office room. and its pretty zen. after all these cleaning sessions i am still not done. there is still another hour to be spent in here. but. i am closer than ever to finishing once and for all. it feels pretty fabulous. throwing shit out. should have done that ages ago, before i moved. but my shit gave me security that i craved. or a certain security that i imagined. now i have something much nicer instead: freedom. peace of mind. simplicity and zen. its fucking great. my house, my room, my world is not full of shit anymore. and with every useless item i bin my life gets a little better. it is truly magical and i recommend anyone to do it. now: if i am to inspire my flatmates? to do the same? then i would have to achieve something great with this effort. wether this is gonna happen remains unknown. but one thing is sure and is manifesting itself already: i am more peaceful. my life feels more abundant. and i feel better about myself. i go formore runs, more meditation sessions. getting ready for work has become a fun ritual: i know exactly where all the things i need are. and it takes me only a few seconds to locate them. its fascinating
My god I am having a big fat fucking hangover. What a weird night. Getting hit on by a woman in her 50s. And I kind of let her because it was kind of charming. And safe. Like getting hit on by a gay man. Of course she said that she thought I was gay. My head is spinning. Cant concentrate. Cant be productive. Cant relax. Its all spinning and it is not very nice. I might go for a walk to get some fresh air. I feel fucked. I have to go to the shard today. I am wondering if I will feel OK with the heights and the claustrophobia. Or if I will get a massive panic attack. There is only one way to find out. Oh and there is one way to make sure I won't get any problems: have a few drinks. So what time is that again? I cant remember. 5. 6? Gonna have to get the train there first. Oh how I love it. I am using the tube again. I discovered a secret, a trick. I just have to connect with the safety of the situation and the fear melts away, stops. I am safe. I just need to feel the place in me that knows that. Thats all. My headache is ridiculous. I am not feeling well still because of things you know, mainly money. But check this out: Next pay day will mean freedom to me. But still. My life is on hold. I gotta gear up and start moving.
So I am still tidying. And it is a big job. I have done well. I am thirsty. I want a beer. We only have Stella. it was free. i would never buy stella. i don't know why i hate it. i just think its shit. florence and the machine are playing. i can smell dug leg in the oven. the lights are on and shining bright. now if you think that sounds lovely, i would have to agree with you. but i don't feel lovely. i feel pretty shit. so yes, i guess, this is called depression. what of it? do i care? do i care if I'm depressed. yes. but i don't care about what you think about that. ha. and that is liberation. cause you know, it makes it half as hard. it makes it 10% as hard to be more honest with you. in fact, it almost goes away. i think that is because the whole cause, the whole root of the evil is that i have cared for too long and far too much about what you think. cause i supposed this is how we are raised in a system where everything is for sale and everything has to be 'marketed' = shown from its best side, exaggerated, sold at any cost, be it ethics. but you know, its not all that dark and bad. i think this system does one thing well, better than the others we know: it creates wealth. now we just have to learn and understand what to buy with this wealth. genuineness.
Oh yeah! Feeling mighty Zen today! Finally hooked up these lamps that have been annoying the hell out of me for the last year or so. And i must say, I am quite happy with myself here. This is where I have to say "Well done F!". Yes, I have done well. I love it. and that is all that matters. sure, my house mates are gonna love it. the perfectionist is gonna love it and then proceed to hate the flaws. but none of that really matters. what really matters is: we have light. AND I LOVE IT. so there we go. as i said: Zen. which brings me to this fabulous book I am reading: The life changing magic of typing up... the woman who has written it... She's fucking crazy! But she is fucking fabulous!! I mean I have rarely seen a book written with so much genuine passion. She is so over the top, that one just starts to believe her. its because she doesn't care about the "right" amount of passion. she just fucking lets go and it makes a gorgeous read. anyways. the material in there is what i wanted to talk about. its bloody wonderful. its over the top, uncompromising. but a very nice kind of perfectionism: one fuelled by LOVE (not fear).
Sunday night. Feeling considerably better. Cant really tell why. Suppose the St. Johns Wort is kicking in. Or maybe the Counselling is. Or maybe it is my lucky find of the coding academy. Its a pretty cool thing. I took a PHP course there over the last couple of days and really enjoyed it. Also: the website 80000 hours. Somehow it has given me hope. Strangely I am not feeling very social. I like my own company better and better at the moment. Financially the situation is still very challenging to say the least. But I am seeing light at the end of this ridiculously long tunnel. And I think I am almost ready to climb to new heights again. There was a noise on the third floor, it is a bit spooky because we used to joke that there is a ghost in the the house. That reminds me. Yesterday I went to a talk about "Harnessing your Inner Perfectionist". Well that was a good one. I loved it. She was teaching us about how when we are content, we see perfection all around us. and That contentment is a place of great courage, not lazy at all. You see. We can just stop judging, just be ok with stuff and it will magically transform our relationship with whatever it is we were judging. Suddenly we can even start appreciating the thing. I am feeling stronger and stronger. I lasted until Sunday so I can last for longer.
You gotta be ruthless sometimes. It is not easy. Oh no. Because it is like being ruthless with yourself. Like Hitler in his Bunker, watching the apocalypse of his utopia, the fires bringing the end, undeniable, merciless, necessary and with a force that is godlike. So why do we hesitate? Because we know what it is like to be at the receiving end of problems. Or maybe we don't. And we are afraid. That we couldn't cope in a similar situation. I have had this thought for a while now: that pity for others is just a projection of the pity we have for ourselves. It like we see others as victims if we see ourselves as victims. I don't know. Sometimes things get confused. Some things are our issues and some others aren't. We need to be kind towards ourselves, too, sometimes. Everything else is being a martyr. Or a Saint. Or an angel. Surely. Surely these people must exist. And We owe them a lot. But it is very important - CRUCIAL - that we get crucified for the causes that are worth it. and not for every little injustice perceived, real or imagined.
I am staying positive today. Oh yes I am. You will see that I will. Maybe. And its gone. Lost. it all. what to write. it is such a struggle. no flow, just torture. my coffee tasted alright. i am trying st johns wort now. it says to only take one a day and then it says no to exceeded daily dose once more. but i took two!. you may wonder why. it is because i have a feeling they won't tell us the truth regarding this drug in this country. because in studies it has been proven to work. as good as prozac. and yet. you cant get it prescribed. why i ask? i cannot find the answer on the internet. so the thing is. in the studies they used doses of 900mg. and here they sell it in doses of 450 mg. i think it is probably to reduce the risk of serious side effects, seeing it has not been tested properly in this country. anyways, in my country - where it has been tested - you can get it in 900mg strength. so i take double the daily dose. watcha gonna do about it? here is where my conspiracy theory comes in: they haven't tested it here because they know it works as well as all the synthetic drugs, with fewer side effects and at less cost: meaning; it beats the expensively developed antidepressants that make the pharma giants billions. so the pharma giants intervened via lobbying in order to sell their own drugs. no studies. no approval. no sell.
So this is my little excercise in self-comp0assion. it is kind of fun and kinf of lame at the same time. it is definitely challenging. and it can like any challenge by a triumph as such. bnecuae there is no effort wihtout shortcoming but aso no victoriy without effort. and it is just about keeping the writing flowing out, not making thise fingers stop, ever not going back n, not to care, not about you ratings. i t is all fynny i am toaking to you here who is rating this. i have stop placing so muych uimportanceon your opinions. the thing s i like you dont and vice versa. what a liberation. life is aboutr loving yourself said the psychologist to me. thats not what he actually sadi but thats what i heard. what a wonderful message. i like it a lot. i want to listen to the red hot chill;i peppers son ' my friends' myu friends are so depressed...i feel the equestion of their lonliness;.... seee there are friends tbut they are probably n ot derpessed at all. it is all a matter of semantsics and we liberally appliy all sorts of bad that is negative that is dramatice that is exaggerated and and kind of untrue but kind of selfpfullphilling phrophecy kind of true these kind of words we apply to situations that do not justify this sort of harschness. of course we are talking about art here in this particular case buyt what i am trying to say is that we need to be very watchful and careful abou tthe things we say to ourselves ain hour heads.