Tuesday evening

Tuesday evening, after tea...
The world is sheltered by a bubble of heat at local market place, that recently has been converted into an hang out place.
Myself and a few others have used the place for a couple of hours as a touchdown point to lay down a few ideas and thoughts.
The purpose of my words is not to bring them out, at least not right now.
The purpose in fact is just to state the obvious, I am here and now, at this place.
For you it will most likely feel as if I had been here before, which without a doubt is the truth. I was here and it mattered to me.
This was a remarkable Tuesday evening.
Just thinking about the uniqueness of your own, and you will realize how truly extraordinary is your ongoing life.
Tuesday evening, after tea...

Memories

“Are memories something that we have lost or something that we have”

Woddy Allen

People Skills

Sometimes I wonder about the people who have people skills. I wonder about them, because it can be argued that, from time to time, I to seem to have those skills. I guess my perplexity about this matter has to do with the borderline with hypocrisy and cynicism that to me run deep, when I keep to myself thoughts that I wish I had the nerve to put them out in the open.

What I do instead is smile or dismiss some ordinary joke to try and defuse the situation. Now that I think about It, I realize that I defuse it more for my protection than for the others. I guess I try to avoid conflicts, if, cowardly, I realize I cannot win them. I guess this in turn, might seem to make me quite the coward who lurks upon the weak and defenseless as prey to my evil deeds.

I do not see myself as the bully who chases anyone to feel a meager sense of superiority. Granted that sometimes I do indulge myself on pathetic attempt of grandeur, but it soon fades as I realize the fabric of my aspirations.

Still, I do wish I had the courage to speak out loud, rather than slipping into the diplomatic clownish role that suits the people so much. I guess I do everyone a favor by playing ball with the roles, and not standing so much in the spot light. After all, there are so many people around me that are attracted to it as bugs are attracted to the deadly blue light.

I wonder, if this is another representation of the Peter Gabriel’s song “We do what we’re told”. Do we? Just to fit in? I guess sociopaths just do not get along, because more than just saying whatever they please, they tend to do whatever they please even if it is unhealthy to others around me.

I have no aspiration on becoming a sociopath or do I condone their actions. But I wonder if faking, pretending and just playing along with the status quo defined by those in charge, is really the best people skills I have to aspire.

Moreover, if I am aware of this about myself, is anyone else aware of this. Is this even a problem?

Oh well, I would better resume with my day and kick off with that honest sense of people skills that keeps the world running.

The powerless mob loves Schadenfreude

At times I realize how frail the morals are within a so called enlighten people. It takes as little as a seed of contempt planted on the eager minds of those that readily follow the opinion makers to state a judgment they would not have had were it not for the innuendo planted before them.

It is sad to realize that I too have been lured by the opinions of others and swayed by the lure of a view which otherwise would not be my own. So I too am, at times, a member of this powerless mob that just follow the shepherd of the will as if his/her words were the unequivocal truth.

These kinds of manipulations have been depicted throughout the history of mankind. It appears that a small group of men have the ability to carry their own plans by convincing others. This can be good, when a leader is able to altruistic define a common benefic plan to be set into motion to help the whole group. This can be, if a bully can convince a majority of the group to act in contempt of a person or small group people to benefit mainly the bully. The benefits are not always clear, they might not be materialistic, they might just be display of superiority, a show of strength, a way to obliterate some competition. Alas, the bad option seems to be a much more common choice. The reptilian brain with all its instincts of survival and competition, makes people much fiercer towards on and other than supportive.

Nowadays with the advent of social media, ideas circulate like opiates. People comment on everything. The freedom of speech is alive, but the comprehensive thought is slow and usually mean. The mean spirited in most of us frequently comes out with so much spite and so little moderation, that the comments that you read on the social networks about current affairs are shear evil.

People are using the social media as forum to vent their personal frustrations disguised as attacks to the current figure who is been targeted. Much like the inquisition, the people would blindly and out of fear accept the judgment and would cheer for the sentence to be carried out.

Schadenfreude.

How people love to take pleasure out of someone else’s misery, particularly if they are a figure of reference or authority within the group or the society. If there is a chance to throw a rock, even if it is disguised by ill-meant words, they will do it. The western society often looks with contempt to other societies for displaying savage behavior, with barbaric sentences for petty crimes, when in fact the western society displays similar behaviors with different weapons… because words and attitudes will never hurt the same way as a rock.

How easy it is for us to pretend that this is all part of a free, democratic way of living and expressing different views. I welcome the debate, until it becomes an issue of dissenting on others who are just different, or if eventually erred.

The mob unfortunately, with all the access it has to a lengthy library of knowledge, does not seem to take time to learn from it, but rather just throw the first rock when the savant bully throws up some piece of ideological manure for others to blindly follow.

This week, any notion of a tolerant and respectful society just came closer to a fatal demise and the monsters are not just due on Mapple Street but in every other street.

Comment on that you mindless jackals that lurk on the opportunity to criticize for the pleasure of making feel the other inferior.

Forget myself

Quite a couple of hectic days I have been having divided among eros and thanatus.
They wear me down. I feel the need to slow down to the point of stillness where everything makes a kind of sense.
It is disturbing when reality conflicts with my abilities and spits in my face the constant truth, that I am not good enough. I am just a shipwrecked foe floating on stormy waters.

Perchance on day I can forget all of this, that as no discription.
Death, Love,

No sign of awareness

Is there anybody out there?

.

I know that every now and again you drop an eye to these words.
I thank you for it.
Let me tell you friend, that I believe that I am doing well.
A spot of loneliness in my thoughts every now and again, but I believe that is to be expected if you live on your own for awhile.

I should not complain much.
After all life has proven a certain worthiness to my existence.
I have experienced different occupations.
I have encountered hundreds of people, it some I was able to engage on interesting conversations that led to remarkable friendships.
Some remained and some are gone.
It is however interesting, that communication is one of the hardest things to do.
The process of communication itself as many nuances and the interference upon perception, at times leads to great distrust.
It is frequent that misconceptions of a given situation lead to arguments.
I sometimes wonder, if we all see reality differently from one another, however since no one can actually be aware of what the other perceives then no one can truly know what the other is seeing.
Take the color of the sky for instance. Suppose for an instance that is blue for me, is actually green for another person. When looking up to the sky, I might see it blue, but the other person will see it green, according to my reference. And vice verse, the trees would be filled with blue leaves according to someone else s reference. Colours perceived different but still identified the same.
What else is perceived differently?
Maybe feelings.
Who knows, the intensity of pain for the loss of a parent can be different from person to person? Who can say that the mere pain of pricking a finger on a needle does not yield different out comes?
If this is the case, how would it be possible to ever make any one understand what we are feeling?

I guess we are all very different people, as such pain and relief come differently to every person. So my emptiness might not actually be as empty as you might experience it. For you it might just be construed as some alone time, that you from you frame of reference might define it as enjoyable.
This accounts for the differences of opinion pretty much about anything. To each its own perception.
But this leaves out similitude. What is the explanation for people that enjoy the same things?
Maybe the enjoyment is independent from the intensity, but is rather a subjective experience, which much like the color is built from the development of taste. A taste that might be predetermined genetically to make me love cheese while you might hate it all together.

Why do I rumble upon these views?
I feel that I am drifting further.
My tastes, my connection with other people is not one of empathy, because most people have transfigured themselves to a new social stage of being.
As have I.
Mine as wondered of into inertia, where others are goal driven, establishing partenerships in according to the similiarty of tastes they possess.
Is anybody there that can share some of my interests?
The same way?

The world calls me.
I will return.

Who watches the watchmen?

Hello world!

These are the two words that some programmers include on their codes when building some kind of software that runs communications.
It is not without a sense of irony that the world is actually listening.
Well, not the world per se. But rather the 'watchmen', those that make intelligence their business.
Alas with all the paranoia that our reptilian brains can produce, it is no wonder that we end up spying each other, because there is no such thing as trust.
In the hearts of everyone there is always a small hint of suspicion, and so we convince ourselves that for the greater good, privacy is no commodity to be handed out but rather something to be purged under the false pretense that we will all be much safer if there are no secrets.
But this is no true, because the 'watchmen' will keep the secrets to themselves under the excuse national security.
Oddly enough, the biggest problem comes from the power which knowledges provides.
And as the adage goes: power corrupts, absolute power, corrupts absolutely.

So to you world, I say hello.
I know that someone, somewhere is reading.
This information is pointless to you the reader.
but it was a vent for me, the spied upon.

Truthfully, I do not really think I am worth the bug.

Emptiness returns

As the greek people is striving to find better ways to reclaim their dignity, Europe seems less concerned about the principles of the union but rather focus on greed and prosperity.
I find it difficult that we can ever hope to reach a higher ground of conscience.
It is frustrating to recon that the world would still be better off without the human spices.
Granted that the cultural, technological and spiritual advancements have been great, but I don't think that the high price justifies.
There was been so much destruction. So many species eradicated by our passage through their path.
What is it all this for?
As a species we cannot find comfort in solidarity, in respect for the other, in acceptance for difference.
We are the monster in disguise in so many races and creeds.

Me.
Well, I am just one more witness that actively participates in the apathy of the observant foe that just lays back and watches the inevitable destruction of it all. And yet I weep in cowardice without lifting a hand to change the course of this river of actions that will ultimately translate in the impending doom of so many more.

Time passes
I remain
I remain as the spirit within the aging vessel that has kept me safe for the past 38 years.
I do little for me, but to keep the status quo of comfort.
I work
I sleep and eat
I indulge myself in the consumption of media products.
I lose abilities. Focus is becoming harder. Reading books is a thing from the past.
Passive tasks overshadow any activity I made consider
TO listen
To watch
To contemplate

I have started running and cycling, in the hopes of regaining some sense of life
some sense of appreciation of whatever remains on the boundaries of my existence.
I wonder if this too shall pass.

A certain melody by Lisa Gerrard called "Of Love Undone" plays in the background, as these words are assembled in this intentional order.
If only I could feel a little bit more alive. Just a little bit more.
Maybe then... I could make a difference.

The Internet wanderers that may lurk through these pages, need not to worry.
These, my ramblings, are nothing more than gatherings of evasive thoughts that found little place to grab on to.
The body. The vessel will go on.
And hopefully the soul will go beyond and carry some seed of change.
There has to be change. For the best, Whatever that means.
I grow tired
and rest I do need.
Thank you for the possibilities.

I will take the rain

And yesterday my dad died.
A day blessed with rain.
A rain made up of tiny, sensitive drops that fell upon me like memories from days of yore, filled only with sweetest events that throughout his 84 years would lead to his inevitable demise.
I thank him for the 38 years I had to develop a unique relationship that would ultimately define my development as a human being.
I thank him for the unique family of siblings, nephews, uncles, aunts and cousins that have been a part of my life.
I thank him for leaving the world behind with a trigger of love, thus allowing me to enjoy one finally pleasant memory associated with his final presence
And now that he is gone, I will take with me that soothing rain as a bag of secrets that we shared during our decades of friendship and love, and promise to take time, every now and again to muse upon them, as a way to keep is endearing presence alive.

I choose to carry with me only the memories I cherish that define a relationship of love that only he and me can understand.

See you later dad.

38

Timeless and without time.
You, whom ever now and again lurk these parts, perchance looking for hints about the man behind the letters, I confess that I am somewhat alone.
No thanks to the diverse nature of my friends and family, but because as it so often occurs, I feel the loneliness of these years passing by.
I have traveled, not frequently nor far
I have read, a few books not too diverse
I have loved, beautiful people inside and outside
I have carried, myself through stages, never knowing where each will take me.
I have waited, for answers that are too close for me to read, and to too far for me to journey to them.

Probably my sorrow lies in the emptiness of 38 cycles that like a spiral bring me downward to an abyss that holds no meaning for me.

To you, wanderer, I thank you for the time you have conceded your eyes.
Until we meet again.

Dealing with the end

How curious it is to me, the way we deal with end.
First of all, most of us have a crude idea of what the end is.
For some there is no end, there is only transformation, a constant change of state, a metamorphosis of the soul and body.
To others, the segment of life is determined by life and death. No more no less.
But because there are no true evidence of after-life or concluding death, people become more responsible with those who are apparently close to their demise.
Constant visits to hospitals, retirement homes usually occur when the call of the grim reaper is drawing nearer. Perchance people just need the satisfaction that they did their best with their loved ones.
What exactly is the best during my final days?
Just before I die, what will be that unique experience that will define my ultimate state on Earth.
Do I want to be surrounded with my loved ones?
Or do I feel like I want to die with dignity surrounded only by my thoughts, like the giant Elephants who seek sanctuary in the wilderness?
Maybe a bit of both.
I want to feel the warmth of the company, but I also want to feel able to engage my thoughts with soul provoking wisdom, that I managed to gather for a lifetime.
If I have a chance, maybe I can share it with those around me, so that they might do the same when their final hour arrives.

End of line

I am not sure yet, but I think he is gone.
It was not the infection
It was not the swollen limbs
It was the agony of the loneliness of a 15 day flight of countless hours of darkness and despair

I understand the elephants when they depart from their group to die alone in the wilderness.
I believe our minds drift much in the same fashion.
The body is the last one to go, decaying by the day.
Eventually when there is no single shred of mind and soul to give it sustenance, the body eventually follows.

His journey has begun
It will not be long now
I hope he arrives safely
There where the line ends
And where the silence has lease.


My only comfort is that one day I will find a similar fate going through a unique path
I fail to get the hug I have been craving for the past year.
All has been forced to provoke a certain reaction
But no one is actually available for that unique hug.

Before he departs, I will give him many more hugs and many more kisses
Not knowing if he will enjoy the warmth of them, but finding the comfort of each one I am allowed to give.

End of Line