As some of you know i have been living out west with Sasha for the last year. I write often but rarely expose it to the world. Some day possibly some of what i write will find its way to the pages of a screen. Think i’ll mend a few of these excerpts of the last few weeks together for those that might be interested and to gather my thoughts along the way. I have been writing all my life in one way or another mostly to make some sort of sense to the thoughts i have about this world.
I know i am not conventional and my writing has gone thru numerous stages and styles, some good some not so good and a few possibly great. I suppose i developed some form of style but i have not had any real direction ever, other then listening to loads of Dylan, reading literature of all kinds but mostly struggling through my own words as they crawl along the page.
Many times i feel like i have written about this or that before and it bores me but to my amazement once i set to slipping words in a row some sort of magic often appears and i keep writing and occasionally some real intricate depth surfaces before my eyes. It is all so subjective writing about ones life.
i am sitting in an outside cafe in Puerto Vallarta and have been here for a few weeks. I have recalled the many times i had travelled thru mexico in the past and the time i lived in Mexico City teaching english and wandering the streets with all my cameras and lenses and a tripod. That was a time when one had to really consider, if to or not to, click the shutter. Film and development was expensive and the procedures for a well exposed image was much more complicated then it is today.
There was also very little communication with friends and family back home. I was alone but far from lonely most of the time. I was within an adventure. I could have been beat up murdered with many of the places i would wander into always wanting to steal another great shot. It is so much easier today but somehow you can also feel it in the images, they are often weak of heart.
Everybody’s life is a story but few ever get told. Even when they are told they can never really hit the depth of the experiences that had taken place. I don’t believe in so called non-fiction, i can hardly take anyone serious when i am face to face, anymore than i take myself very serious. Everybody’s life is partly truth and partly fiction, and i get it, lets not quibble about semantics.
The streets are hot and sweaty. I am in Old town. I often travel between the non tourist and semi touristic areas.
I am not fond of most tourists, never was i suppose, but i am not fond of most people either, generally speaking, but i do care about them.
shorts of tourists
lost in their novels living their dreams in hidden creation of nitemares for the unseen
world travellers that haven’t been anywhere with a million images to prove it
their collection of sunsets and manufactured smiles
spread out across the globe for nothing more
than a composition of their refurbished reasons for their existence
frozen smiles on tethered souls
painted faces resembling modern art
dreams walking running in search of themselves
buildings erupting through the avenues
tattoos piercings trends aspiring to be
people imitating people adrift in a dream
this is the way of the world it seems
From Back in BC a month or so ago….
its been a year in the west and things were tough at times and things were beautiful and often cold and damp, life in a new land has its differences bundled up in occasional shocking waves piercing damp-cold knifing to your bones; incredible beauty emerges on the sides of hills abrupting up into mountain cliffs and beyond, flowers blooming even when time feels wrong, water-waves crashing into rock, mist sliding across landscapes like blankets fold across my loves naked body under morning sun light embracing the air of the sacred room. things have changed as all things do and the dream is not gone but it has moved into new territory and where ever it was that i’d thought i ‘d be i’m not, but most everything else seems as in a way it could well have been, i suppose….
i’m watching things as they appear, frustration with my life sometimes, curses still swing around from jealous folk, belief-systems of new world friends tearing at my throat, nonsense minds still trying to create worlds that could never exist and that wouldn’t be so difficult but then again, when they constantly attempt to make their issues transformed into something glamorous and wrap it around my neck and attempt to force me to own it as if it was mine, that’s hard.
out here things are simpler and if it weren’t for the medium of social internet content i’d hear nothin at all but their love that sometimes swings across the universe and lands right deep into my heart, but how seldom is that?
the autumn is well on its way again here in the mountains and that restless feeling is tender this time, seems to have given in for awhile….maybe this time it will pass unnoticed, possibly i have paid some dues and now smooth sailing will break the mould. i don’t count on anything tho, the shift in wind can happen so quick, one minute the shallow world is so amusing and the next it stops you mid flight, bangs you around awhile then throws you into dirt. we got our politics to be concerned about, maybe another world war is brewing, maybe the last one of its kind with nuclear chemistry and new modern low and high death inducing frequencies to distort all life on this planet to unimaginable sci-fi catastrophes that no one would ever want to endure or ever wish upon their worst enemy, but they do.
today is beautiful, the sun is massaging my skin with a warmth well beyond the usual like it was here to love me to care for my wounds and to share its light for my broken soul and the air is slightly cool, the way it can lift your spirit without knowing, a feeling that it is all just fine, everything, just fine.
the world is sick probably beyond repair and the earth is damaged terribly and mankind has thought itself into this insane superior space like no comparison can be……we wait the few of us that have left all beliefs in the ditch of stupidity and walk on in different roles, there is no way out there is no way in, thought will weave in and out of existence till man is done…..that is not my concern anymore, the sun is all that matters at the moment and i walk and that is it.
The air is mexican and i am fine alone down here where i belong far away from the maddening crowds of the crowded empty streets north. I love things i can’t explain, my sisters, my brother, my nieces and nephews and all their children and children and children that i don’t even know. I have friends i don’t see enough of and i love to miss them with their tenderness in my mind. Some of my family and friends have been very special at different times in my life and i know i have hurt some with occasional ruthless lessons. If i could i would place my love within their hearts just to let them know i have cared deep for them. To show them that life has only one meaning, to care, no matter what beliefs have separated us, love pierces all thought and just remains simple in the air between us and then fades back into the silence. We travel this way all of our lives swinging the roads between heaven and hell, kindness and cruelty in action of secret thought.
From a Few Days Back
So here i am down in Mexico. So many years ago i travelled to so many places in this country. I remember living in Mexico City and all the adventures. I was alone and had no friends or family to confide with. There was no internet, facetime, facebook, skype or whatever. Today people don’t really travel anywhere, their wifi-phone is glued to their hand, they document every move, they never go anywhere without it. It’s a different world. I am not sure where i am, nothing really makes much sense to me anymore. People taking pictures with smiles frozen on their face. They have done it thousands of times now. Before they even get to the next scene they’ve exposed it all over the net. The world wide web has gotten people together but it has taken them further away from themselves, so just how close can they get, one surface to another? I don’t believe in much anymore and i know that that has torn family and friends from me. People believe they need something to believe in and i say no you don’t. Sure it will tear you around in a circle when you throw at me your conclusions and justifications for your world but to me none of this make sense to me anymore. You all want to believe in what you believe in and seldom question belief itself or the process, you just take it for granite that it must be right and it has to exist. Seems logical as if it is the language of the mystery that is behind it all…….no, it is way beyond the frivolous conclusions of logic, math, religion and science. How can i know this, i’ve been on the edge of thought too many times in this life time, it’s unexplainable and no one can understand the roadless road unless you’ve been there……often.
If i could i’d live like a coyote without family and friends but i can’t and i know that, this is my dilemma and eventually it will be the dilemma of mankind. Many people are coming to this conclusion in one way or another. I find some of my older friends are taking to what they grew up with just to keep their mind at peace. I don’t have that problem. I have been thinking of these things since i was a boy in one way or another. My whole life was a quest to find the truth. Most people don’t like what i have found so avoid the topic or simply avoid me. It’s complicated to attempt to express with words; it is difficult enough to experience let alone pass it along, so i don’t try any more. It doesn’t matter, the world will go on its way no matter what i think no matter what anyone thinks.
I do find the friends that are still so attached to politics or/and religion somewhat annoying at times. I have little time for the ones that try to prove they ‘no where it’s at’. It doesn’t matter, i just stay way. That explains why i seldom go thru facebook anymore, or social events, don’t know why i ever did? I suppose i get lonely sometimes and need some affection from some that seem to love me know matter what. Me, i care also but i do have to admit i find many people rather boring and i suppose i always did. I like short quick conversations unless it reaches the depth of ones soul and no i don’t act like i know there is a soul or a spirit and it is not as if i am naive. I have, more than most i know, attempted the depths of the mind thru many procedures that eliminates thought in its wake. So i don’t need some lecture about things most people have no clue about, they just want to be safe in their mind and feel the comfort of their beliefs. So be it. I don’t care. I don’t have to care. I never made any arrangements with the devil or any promises i haven’t kept to the ‘mystery’. I am free of all of you and it is rather useless to say and yes i love you all when i don’t even know what love is but i do have it and anyone that knew me or knows me with what ever amount they think they possess, yes, i care a great deal, i have cared a great deal, call it what you want. I am there for you, i would crawl to the ends of the earth for a few. Sierra comes to mind. I would give my live up for her to have a life to experience in any way she feels, and i don’t believe i would have done that for anyone but her.
Yes, so you find numerous contradictions here, well, you’re right, there is no thought that can exist without ultimately slipping into contradiction and oblivion. That is why people fear death, fear psychedelics, fear silence, fear any process that disintegrates their belief system, their personality, character, but certainly when death comes a knocking it will surely do exactly that. You can get prepared or not, it doesn’t matter. Enjoy life the best you can, help others when they need a hand, be gentle and let the mystery move you and to be your only faith.
Back to Mexican Air
stops you sometimes when you least expect it right there in your tracks and all you can do is react with one of your selves with whatever way it appears and then it happens like thunder in a clear sky loud and shocking and you have to face the situation no matter what…..that’s the way i feel sometimes walking thru this world with my head like a dump truck full of dreams and lost homes. that’s what’s goin on here in this dingy hotel room filled with prison-like walls. this will all change in a few minutes when i get back out on the street and wander towards the beach. this is the price you pay when you spent your life and money trying to save a world that is conditioned to die with dead species withering on its grave. the air is stagnant in here but the walls are painted cream like the foam in the oceans grudge from high rise condos, hotel sewage camouflaged with carcinogenic chemistry.
we move on with tender thought shallow in the brain and wonderfully stretch out on the beach beds in ones self contained pleasure. the breeze the sound of waves caressing the sand along the coast, it’s all good. then I’m back here and it’s all quiet at the moment.
the air has shifted and the sound of bad reverb radio fills the stairwells and the house maid cleaning rooms for the long weekend. this was the only hotel vacant on this holiday weekend celebrating the revolution so long ago and now forgotten with beer and celebration.
how could i have known i’d end up here down in mexico at this time in this life. when i awoke with no identity to call my own here i was back ahead of myself living some sort of dream attempting to realize itself and i just went along for the ride down thru mexican streets watching what once was so romantic and now just another civilization with no purpose but to live as they are. the streets dressed in hundreds of years of worn cobble stone and tales embedded into their fibre like memory and love sweat blood religion caressing the very air hot and slow across time like paintings do.
the tourists and their little furry comforts they call dogs, pot bellys of bad health from years in american suburbs treating their bodies as if they own them and waiting for heaven to fix it all up but they now know its almost too late cept for a few more pleasant illusions of romance here along the mexican roads with food set for queens and kings they dreamt of and they eat this, privileged while beggars watch with dreary eyes sagging and smiles weak upon their face.
the waves along the shore soothe even the warped of minds and kiss dreams with silence hidden so tight between their thoughts. life is worth it all they think with memory falling away along the coast and serene love emanating from the very core of their being, but they ignore it.
i hesitate occasionally at words trying to express themselves with thoughts that can’t be understood, who are they, who am i, what’s the point in describing this night along the board walk here in what’s been called puerto vallarta, what am i doing here, women cops with cell phones and guns walk by in their tight white clothes, bums sexy in the breeze. women and numerous couples old and young, gay men in cloth tight against their skin, traditional mexican music slips thru the air like it should. a young boy plays a toy guitar singing ‘bom bom bomba’ with a sweet angelic voice meant for heaven and no one stops to listen or to throw a few coins in his styrofoam cup. an older wrinkled and worn woman sells roses and fades into the past the whole scene is getting ready to end as i come to my senses and remember who i thought i was.
i really am here as far as i can tell, the magic is what ever is, the world is dying and I’m feeling fine here in the cool breeze sent in from pacific waves with no message and i am gone again.
This is now here and i see the sincerity on the eyes of so many of the poor as i stroll thru cobble stoned streets of old puerto vallarta. It seems they understand a love that has been lost amidst so many from the privileged north of the border. Over all, people are people and given the chance they shine or they don’t and it’s anybody’s guess why that is. It’s getting late and i need to weave in and out of the streets to my hotel.
Here, later in the night in my mexican hotel room off in an old neighbourhood and things are clear.
How come so many on this planet want to believe in fantasies about christ, buddha, mahamad, parallel realities, afterlives, power ego-control, music, feelings, love, everything will be alright, was meant to be, people dragging their thoughts through hell to prove they’re right and happy. None of this matters. It doesn’t make anything right and true to force the brain into some paradise while they remain miserable inside.
There is no point in attempting to explain. Your visions from dream states to deep feelings or altered states no matter where or how they have conjured the mind to believing in themselves; none of this makes it true and real. We are all made up like virtual intelligence on a computer hard drive, the illusion of mind on a brain, it’s all made up, fake, make-belief and tho this may be true it doesn’t dispute the sheer beauty and sadness of life. One only has to observe with a clear mind to see that life just is. It doesn’t have to make sense. There are no ultimate conclusions, nothing that one must be, aspire to be. One just does what one does. We don’t need any god to believe in, any science to control our senses, any religion to keep us kind. Thought is simply a tool to use as a means to assist us in realizing everything is connected and sacred. There is no higher or lower intelligence. All is in an unequal balance of meaning that thought can never know. There is no higher consciousness to aspire to, no god to meet, no truth that is not already embedded in your brain. There is no new realization of love. Simply to observe the infallibility of thought and to scrape away the thousands of years of rituals, ceremonies, dogma of all thought will leave one natural and free.
I have no idea whether that is even possible. All i know is that there is absolutely no road to truth, to the mystery of god, the intelligence eminent within the universe. That is obvious. We are here to serve a mystery we can never know and thought has taken us on a wild ride attempting to convince us of ideals from jesus to scientific absolute laws. We can never understand the mystery of the universe and every attempt simply takes us further away from natural freedom, as an ant to a whale, to a plant to the wild waters of consciousness itself. Thought is our prison.
I know everybody wants to hear something that resonates with what they have developed to believe in. It doesn’t have to be scary to let go of ones identity, it’s a smooth sailing into death whether it is death of mind or death of body which will eliminate the mind as it goes. I know that so many want to believe there is some sort of transformation of mind into the other afterworld. If one has experienced the elimination of mind in this life, one can see the truth of the falseness of mind itself. Without mind the awareness has no conceptual relationship to ritual, dogma, heavens, hells and all the nonsense conjured by the eons of desires of man for salvation, meaning, afterlife’s of any kind. It is only the remanence of desire floating around that gives us miraculous visions to hold as sacred, but they are as unreal as a hologram hallucination in dream state, awake or under ceremonial conditions that appear more real than normal reality itself. That is just another level or an unordinary reality that makes it seem so rare and true.
How do i know this?
I know this because i have experienced many visions under many conditions thru many ceremonies and rituals with and without helpers of hallucinogenics, fasting, visions quests, sweat lodge ceremonies, messages from animals, birds, trees, plants, waters, feathers, statues, sacred medicines, teachers, real and spirit related, the native american sacred pipe and others seen and unseen entities of pure light and energy.
All this knowledge and awareness of knowing led me to the uncovering of the fundamental problem itself. The arrogant and selfish desire of thought to believe in itself and to take its realm into a world it can not know, and that world is the world of the great mystery itself. All thought is doomed to suffer its end as mind discovers its illusion of existence.
Where does that leave man?
I have no idea but i do know that i can not know with thought and there is no other way to understand with the constant control that thought demands of itself. It is conditioned to believe in what it thinks. It cannot escape this terrain and there is no way out for it. A transformation of man possibly may take place, one that puts thought into its place without any relationship to the observation of the brain. A tool to use as a crow uses its wit to open up nuts by dropping them at street light intersections to have cars run over them to break them open. A form of science that is constantly on trial, not the science that we have created believing in fantasies about the ultimate absolute laws of the universe and religions creating gods that could never exist or a superiority believing we are greater then other species or more intelligent, and creating sciences that go against natural ways such as euclidean geometry that has infiltrated most of our technology and in doing so has created the pathogenic relationship with life we have today being the basic problem of climate alterations threatening the whole planets life forms
This is the dilemma of mankind.
I understand that many will think i am crazy in one way or another. I could go into detail about the natural implosive energy systems versus our fire infatuation explosive systems that has caused the situation we face today. All this is related to ‘thoughts’ arrogance and its nature to control.
Ancient tribes had a more harmonious way to unite thought and vision together, but even then, more then not, they created thought systems of belief that let to disharmony amongst themselves and the nature surrounding them. But certainly it was much less harmful then the fire technological industrial revolution that eventually entangled their mechanics with the substance of the earth. There was and still are scientists that had seen and know the destructive methods of the dominant science and its finite laws, but money and power is king and very few have truly taken the time and insight to truly investigate this earth-life-destroying problem.
Most people are complaining about symptoms of this completely reversal of natural law. They have no idea of the foundation to the over all problem. We have forced energy into a straight jacket of movement, from combustion technologies to explosive chemicals in the land and food, to containing water in straight lines against its will, to forcing thought to know what it cannot know. It is all related.
To go into detail is not my quest any longer. I have given up on humanity. I see no other way but to live my life out and scrape off the shackles of idealistic thought whenever and wherever i stumble upon it.
I believe that the transformation is already well on its way and it is more honourable to live a life believing in nothing as best as one can, and that alone will enhance the movement of humanity elevating itself to a different relationship with this earth. I don’t believe in any rituals per say though some may help to clear the mind from the brain, but to be careful not to make them your system or god. No pipe, no stones, no feathers, no bones, no crucifixes, no prayer, no system whatsoever.
I don’t have to believe in anything or anybody or to care who agrees or who doesn’t. I don’t have to care about you or me or anything, caring comes along with the territory of walking alone without anything or anybody or any truth or any any thing, nothing is necessary to follow nothing, the great mystery takes care of everything, i eat when i need and can, i drink when i am thirsty and i think when i need to think. Life is good, life is sad, life is wonderful, life is life, truth is a mystery, it does not need anyones meaning. Good nite audience if there is one.
The morning is here. The sleep was peaceful and i feel rested and ready for another day upon this earth. I meditate as i walk, as i sit, as i eat, as i observe what is before me. I have no method other than to eliminate any method that may be found. Everything does exactly what everything needs to do. My body breathes, sometimes deep sometimes shallow. My body needs exercise continuously. I listen to its plead. I watch that i eat what is most natural made from the mothers hand. I distrust modern processing of most kind but i am open to any information my body and my senses withhold. I can change in a moment. Most thought can be stopped and put on pause in an instant. This can allow truth to be, without my interpretation constantly attempting to control. This is not a perfect way to live. Nothing is perfect when thought intersects what is with what isn’t. This is the best i can do. Possibly nature will alter me beyond any imagination i have, or will ever have while i am still in this body upon this earth. I understand that this body is aging and life travels fast into the grave. To be as best as one can be every moment is all one can do.
I am sorry that so many that surround my life are conditioned into believing that they must hang onto what has been passed down via mind knowledge, genetic knowledge, and the illusions of truth they abide by that has left our relationship on edge, argumentative, debatable at times and all which i have no use for any longer. So we often hide behind our shields. They say things, like as in a loved one that has passed away, that he or she is up there looking down upon us, or we will meet them when we go, bla bla bla, and since it is the common belief i have to be silent and let them live there illusions freely. Such is life. I am goin for a walk now, a long walk alone.
Sasha will be here tomorrow and we can travel together for a couple of weeks and then back to BC and its cold damp atmosphere with a real wood stove fire inside. My bones prefer this hot climate. It is what it is.
And to all my friends on a similar path as i, keep walking and to all my friends that secretly despise me, keep walking, and to the rest of humanity, keep walking.
a bird with no feet will sleep in the wind
Things have changed as they always do, attitudes weaken others gain strength. We found a beautiful little fishing village, Los Ayalla, a couple hours north of Puerto Vallarta off the highway and hardly a north american in sight. It is too rough, too raw for most, even the cool ones seems to avoid it here. This all suits us fine. The tourists here are mexican enjoying the beach and a weekend away from their often tedious and monotonous lives. Mexico is mexico, they seem to have a tolerance a few metres above the northern people for annoying music, noice, organized sounds thru-out the hot air hanging in the streets. Many times it can be quite romantic along the sands of the waves of the coast, with vendors selling baked fish, shrimp and other tasty treats. Life is good again, it is always worth living but that doesn’t dispute the sheer meaninglessness of the myth of minds gathering in herds like schools of fish do along the coast. People presume you need to have some sort of belief system in something, anything to enjoy or have a meaningful life. You don’t. Meaning weaves in and out of the day as wind along the wavering coast. It changes, one can’t stop the endless murmur of the mind but one can see it as it folds in and out along the coast-line of mind. Simply speaking the mind is the content of the hard drive that the mind has named the brain. It will all seem ‘passé’, as artificial intelligence becomes more predominant and we are forced to realize that we have created a machine that can out perform us in most endeavours. Many want to believe therefor, we were meant for a higher purpose, but again the mind conjectured that with the tools of reason and logic and mathematics and faith and all the systems of believe that mankind has conjured since we left the garden of eden, ate from the apple, saw the monolith, began to reason. Thought is a tool but one that is limited and can not know the infinite system this universe is build upon. It appears the mind is so freaked out in becoming aware that it is not infallible, that it creates new systems from the imagination to cement itself once again to the safe, secure, and comfortable ideals of the mind…..but it is an illusion.
The search is for the best illusion of the century and one that one will debate into eternity, but it is meaningless in the scheme of things.
It is terrible how man destroys others because of their firm believes and tortures those that don’t conform to their principles. Whether it is the christian, moslem, communist, a particular realm of science, the capitalist, they are forever dreaming, the idealist, the atheist, conformist, the revolutionary, the nowhere men, the women of mercy…..where ever it is you travel upon this earth people believe in their beliefs and if you torment this circus to any great deal you may find yourself in the cage with the lions.
Whether they are pacifists or not most find a way to manipulate their faith for the benefit of the whole or the longevity of the system, the culture, their way of life and the world must bend to it. Is there an answer? Probably not.
My answer is to observe my thoughts and when i can, throw the words to the winds of time, leave the circle, swim, fly, walk, move on, keep moving on and avoid looking back. Will they come back, oh yea, they always have so far, but not all the way. Are there any persons that have surpassed the hold of thought to the mind and live within this eternity endlessly beyond contradiction. I think so, but that is still irrelevant to this mind, this mind has seen the illusion of mind too often to have any sort of faith in it. I have no hope, no belief to live up to, my faith travels in the unknown mystery of all things seen and unseen. This faith has no system it can spark off, it is beyond feeling itself, it is a knowing beyond knowledge, it is unexplainable in words in thought.
Possibly jesus, lao zhu, buddha and the rest of the gang and thousands of philosophers attempted to lead one to this place, this space, but i say it is all in vain. If you want to experience beyond experience then one must work hard, fast, psychedelics, vision quest, meditate, and there is no certainty that anything will work and most will lead you astray and plaster you with more dogma then the mind can handle and you will eventually be left here alone, and if you’re lucky, thoughtless and free. This is the dilemma and the beauty of man.
These teachings as in, follow me and thou shall see the light, seek and thou shall find truth, etc., there are millions, they are all lies, hinderances to the illusion of the soul…..”watch out for leaders and parking meters”, Bdylan
It still emanates back thru the canyons of my mind that the only thing that i have truly found in seventy years of travelling on this earth and most of it in search, in one way or another, for the truth, is that there is absolutely nothing to find. That in itself may be the only truth that truly exists in the realm of thought. Possibly then and only then may one truly begin to live.
In one way or another Bob Dylans ‘It’s All Right Ma’ says most of this and more and if it doesn’t you will find it in an adjacent song on the album or one of the thousands of songs he has written. But as i said earlier everyone has to find it for himself.
Dylan went thru the bible and jesus and just like a parking meter he parked there for awhile. I didn’t, that was not my journey. I thank many in their assistance along my trail, but i never followed any of them. In fact all the teachers i may have had taught me not to follow anything but myself, my own heart. There is no doubt that psychedelics were my first teacher and they taught me that nature was super intelligent and i am a servant of awareness, nothing more and nothing less. Everything one needs to know is within the body and the brain, the myth of mind changes from individual to individual from specie to specie, some more some less but all in an unequal balance. Thought has twisted this balance and will eventually find its way back into the womb of mother earth. Then it may see its way thru its own validity and die.
I have no idea it is all speculation imagination ejaculation inspiration anticipation isolation, it all goes somewhere but really it goes nowhere.
So what does one do? One works with kindness, and sees, and keeps walking. Once again the mind wants an answer but there is none, never was and never will be. Some will work endlessly to prove what can not be proved and many will follow and believe in this and attempt to convince others. Some will kill to keep this belief, some will hide, some will fight, some will not fight, all will die.
I am hearing the silence of this small mexican town. The hills are covered in trees and lush vegetation. The waves along the coast are hardly visible in my minds ear but i can see them crashing softly against my brain. This world is so incredibly beautiful. Some days are filled with joy beyond itself and a depth of feelings of love for the mere acceptance of everything as everything is. It is difficult to explain what can not be truly understood with words and ultimately thought itself. So the question may be why i have attempted and i would say simply because it is what i do. I now know i don’t expect any particular response from anyone. It has been a way to gather my thoughts to let them go, to understand what i keep realizing i cannot understand. This keeps me busy with constantly coming to similar and sometimes almost the same conclusions and it sometimes makes me feel relieved and at other times, a waste of time, but it is all good. I have a limited amount of time left on this earth and this is my story. If anything it would be nice to make some money to allow me more of these adventures around the earth. Possibly i’ll continue my photography to share some images that might move others as they move me. I simply need more money to allow me the freedom to be as i am, to be as i am not.
It may come and it may not. I am studying day trading on the stock market, this may work for me or this may not. I know that i am quite talented and really should have succeeded financially by now in my life, but i haven’t. There are numerous reasons and conclusions and i neither have the will or desire to explain. It certainly is not because of a lack of talent knowledge, sincerity, study and work. Judge for yourself if it so tickles your curiosity.
This is a new day wrapped in all the genetics of the past and caressing the sunny air along the streets of los allaya. I am content in this fresh perspective without family or friends, without pressure from above, without dreams of a future, without love sworn by conditions. Here i walk free without truth or enemy, without anything to do and nothing to be, alive like the now ever present. The beach is full today, families enjoying their time, vendors selling their wears their foods and musicians making music along the sands of time.
In the evening the streets are alive; a family is dancing on their dusty road to mexican country music like it once was a hundred years ago north. Romance is everywhere, in the hearts of the kids, in the hearts of the aged in their ancient skin, romance still hangs in the streets like dangling lightbulbs from slow tiendas and outside cafes. It is a noisy country, sound slips in when you least expect it, reverb taco radio commercials, hotel california still rides the waves between soft sweet spanish love songs. Most magic immerses this way, a simple worn face smiles as he catches my eye, a young mother holding her kid close to her breast, fresh fruit and vegetables sit quiet in outside bins, new clothes hang off hooks into the streets everywhere where taxis live and electrical wires like trees study the sky. In moments a few hundred years can pass right before your eyes closed, only the sound of life mexican life as it was as it is.
A cat slips under a car and plays with a dangling rope, a few dogs sway along looking for something, anything, a little girl in hand of grandma catches my eye and holds on with thumb in mouth and curiosity for the gringo style of my manners, i wink and keep her wondering down into the darkness of the street. At moments as these i love being alive. Alone, the world could die and i’d be here watching life side by side with dreams escaping the tedious live simple and safe. Many things used to matter but that was yesterday, I’m back on the road again in my mind, i suppose the trail owns me, it has its days and it has its nights and i go with what ever, nothing is excluded, everything falls into place like this street, the music, the sticky air cool in from the sea, my cappuccino, my words filling the universe with thought ready to fade and surrender into the darkness of the night. Nothing is sacred everything is sacred, no space more sacred than another, but here is special, a point in history stretched further than normal. Love seems to enter when eyes say nothing and ears have no agenda, the concept of the myth of mind is somewhere else for the moment. Time has come and walk thru here i must to over there another place another time another dream as it does what it does to this mind, this beautiful beautiful mind. Silence…….
Travellers of all sizes and of all ages and of all class differences now travel the world. The majority stay in large hotels not much different from the location they left. They sneak out into the world to areas the tourist resorts consider safe. Most do not travel into the depths of the cultures they visit. Air flights are so affordable and go to so many different locations that world travelling has become a hobby. People brag about the many locations and often the amount of good times getting drunk and being entertained by various world entertainers. Most tourists are boring, arrogant, privileged, superficial and a detriment to the culture this visit but they mean well they want you to believe.
There are other tourists that slide into the back streets, the slightly more adventurous, the ones that find local bars and hotels and nite life. They get the typical tourist adventures plus more unique local entertainment and trips for the lucky.
Then there are the the ones that venture right off of the beaten track and find places few tourists venture into. They often learn some of the language and make contact with locals for future meetings and communication, even marriage.
There are the ones that venture much past where the locals themselves would venture, these are the explorers, the ones that discover americas and then the followers do the rest of the damage and the rest of the self conclusive good. Here we are, centuries upon centuries of humanity and salvation for what it’s worth.
The afternoon broke with crazy love strung all over the place. She said my love songs irritate her heart. The sharp piercing harmonica kills her serenity, the slow tangled voice is to rough for her silk dreams. She says she can’t understand why i can’t understand and i can’t understand why she can’t get it. Is it possible to continue this broken path and bridge another way? Is it possible to heal these shattered dreams too deep to comprehend? Can this heart find another way where the birds fly free? Are we doomed to hide the truth neath shallow verse, can we bend far enough and hang our dignity safe? Is it really that far away from here where we can be again, true and close anew?
In the turn of time things happen with no definite means to fulfil the apparent rules. The rules have changed, the things that were once true are slumbering along the trail uncertain. Hey, here is exactly the type of situation that i was asking for but all the forms have shifted the faces are all different, even the colour of the minutes have moved into new hues. That’s what you can expect, nothing is the same everything is slightly similar sometimes very similar, and all is different. So you just go with it, do the best with what’s available and keep walking, run if you have to, even crawl when necessary but never never be definite about anything. Bend, twist, curve around things but don’t get pinned down, ever. If you do you’re thru, you can look like you’re standing still at times but let your heart keep moving, see thru the mind like it was transparent, live life as if it belongs to the universe because it does and that is the truth that thought distorts and separates one from our natural state. Thought has been misused and not clearly understood. It possibly is not capable of knowing its limitations. Another understanding or knowing is found in something we may loosely describe as faith. It is a knowing an octave or two from pre- thought, a place which thought can not enter or explain, tho it attempts endlessly again and again in vain.
You either get it or you don’t and often you think you get it but you don’t. There are billions of questions but there are no answers. Living in the world of thought is a dilemma that mankind cannot surpass and yet we walk on. I have no answer; thought can not know.
The waves are tenderly washing up along the shore line. The sound caresses my mind with silence. The simple beauty of this is lovely. There is no need for anything else to occur. The ocean is black beyond the horizon, love somehow is ever present. Thoughts close to the source act as visions but they are also reflections in time as a home. Everything moves on with intentions we cannot comprehend and love is simply the beauty of life intensified to an acceptance-like surrendering of the magnitude of creation in the making continuously before our eyes. Love is all there is, truth is everywhere, mystery is the thread that weaves the universe into existence. We are stunning creatures that have allowed thought to create a mind of illusions adverse to the nature of life itself. Thought will die when it is mirrored in its nature and when the realization of the interconnectedness of all comes upon it from across the great divide, the waters that separate truth from fiction, thought from the silence of love and eternal beauty.
I write because i do…..sleep has tapped upon this brain.
Just leaving the autumn of my life approaching the last winter. Time has left me here without anymore than i came with. A few remains of homes and dreams fading to the wind. The last love here beside me, the gift of a life time and i thank the mystery for that. All others i had left or they had left me. I have little regret tangled in the web of past but there were dreams i had forsaken for useless paths and the thought at times brings the treasure of sadness soft and warm for the winter approaching. She was one i had let go that created a sadness in her till her passing. That was not what i had meant to do and i am sorry for asking for answers i did not fulfil. I paid dearly for this but she paid more. There were others that came and went along the boulevard of romance, the streets of love touched time and magic one can only feel deep within ones heart. All came and went and memories like the ripples of sand along the beach will diminish, refine, and vanish like all things do.
When you’re young beliefs come slow and questioned often until they settle in ones soul with unforeseen consequences if one should sway away with burning bridges kissed upon the trail. Everything is up for debate as far as ones reason and experience can tolerate. Most settle for comforts in ones mind and follow the trends of times. They carry on traditions, associate within one community, attempt to live free within their beautified prison walls.
It is not that way for the searcher, the one that takes it to the limit most of the time, the one that burns every bridge, the one that looks back only with a microscope of disbelief. I am one of those and sometimes i just fantasize about being one of them, the simpler man with his dreams half broken and his ideals abused but with the worn smile from a torn but contented heart. Yes to be one of them, sometimes, that would be good.
The time in mexico is coming to an end. The adventures will slip further and further into memory as everything does. Sasha has already left and i leave in a couple of days.
She went for an early morning walk on the beach of Los Allala a few day ago, only to find herself surrounded by three large dogs; a mongrel, a radwiller and the main horny pursuer, a german scheppard. They attempted to rape her. She got down on the beach for a short rest when they noticed her and surrounded her and the shepherd attempted to humb her naked legs and scratched her severely while the rattwiler was loosely holding her wrist in his mouth. Sasha tried to stay cool and get them off of her and it was getting serious when all of a sudden something distracted them and they rambled off. She came back with numerous scratches, quite shaken and in need of a warm embrace.
A few nights later in Puerto Vallarta we were sitting in an outside cafe having a meal and a few brandies. We had one joint given to us by a cool dude in a northern beach town that i had kept in my bag. Sasha thought we could smoke it right there by the waves rolling close to our table. Memories and experience said no and so when we left the cafe we lit it up by the waters edge, a twenty to thirty metre span to the meladone, the boardwalk by the ocean in the centro of town. As soon as we were done and now with half a joint now in my hoody’s pocket and back on the cement boardwalk, two Policia approached us and harassed us.
Memories of 35 years earlier quickly immersed when i had been interrogated on a vacant beach south of alcapoca by five military with sub machine guns on horse back for 5 hours now lay haunting my skull and in anticipation i reacted fast.
They said we saw you smoking marijuana, we didn’t admit to anything history taught me that. We offered them our bags to inspect. They knew the drill, they’ve done it hundreds of times. They know who to freak out and who they can get money from and who they can’t. They are not always right but they read it pretty accurate. We didn’t fit the profile, thank god. I know how they can torture you mentally for hours, days if they want.
We said all there right things without being rude or overly paranoid of the situation, respectful and determined to cooperate but stand our ground. Here’s our bags, we’re canadian, we’re leaving tomorrow. They let us go after ten minutes.
We were shaken for a few hours.
Their policies will have to shift drastically or many canadians will find alternative vacation locations. Marijuana is almost legal in Canada and people wont go on a holiday where they can’t enjoy their choice of mind alterations.
It is so corrupt down here which means you need to know what you can and cannot do and where and when it is appropriate. With corruption everywhere from the bottom to the top it can be tricky business. Such is life.
Sasha had a unique perspective realizing that the dog adventure was at least simpler to understand and deal with in a natural way, whereas the cops as corrupt as they are and with the human element, have their hidden agendas which makes it difficult to utilize your natural intuition. Both situations are dangerous and each literally could get you killed. With the dogs you may know why but with the cops you could end up being a main character in a Kafka Trial Novel somewhere in the hands of a retired tourist sitting in a cafe along a boulevard passing his day reading someone else’s fictionalized life from a book.
There were so many fantastic happenings, in this yet another tour of the latin quarters of america, one simply just has to keep walking.
A couple of new blondes looking like they just crawled out of an ashtray baked in the sun for thirty years with a cigarette hanging from their lips. Media is everywhere, on screens, out of speakers, embedded in tattoos, labels on their clothes, graffiti on the walls, symbols on the floors. Its a noisy world, loud and meaningless, drunks and lovers living some sort of dream thru-out all streets of centro Puerto Vallarta……this is not unique, it is everywhere on this earth. People desperate for ecstasy at all cost.
I got a smoothy out in one of the cafes, the hotel room is still too noisy from young kids with parents that lack discipline. Soon, in a few years, they will be out here whooping it up in the cafes and local bars.
There is a woman sitting across from me with a friend, she appears to be rare, delicate, refined, soft spoken, a lady sensitive in this loud air. People seem to yell louder and louder as the years go on, as the world becomes more and more tainted with twisted despair hidden in their souls. She has a beautiful smile with dangling earrings but who knows what she is really like, probably beaten-in from some sort of society abuse, it seems we all are in one way or another. There are those rare gems though, i have met them occasionally. The bar next door is getting loud and louder with some gringos getting out of control. Time to leave.
All in all america has spread itself around the globe, the freedom to do what ever one pleases, the self confidence to build dreams out of damaged air. The circus is everywhere, fat midget brained and the undertakers all eating the sweet dreams from restaurants franchised by medical miracle profits. The dark ages are alive and well in the streets of saviours and criminals. Wars for dirty water oiled by the mighty giants in the underworld. Everything is just as it should be, the flight is on time, the secrets have escaped and most are playing ancient games on modern screens and fantasying being warriors in digitized movies.
The desert looks bleak from ten kilometres high, the snow peaked mountains look cold, rays of the warm orange sun glows across the valley floors and the all so surreal shift of flight and background roar of engine keeps on.
The colours of the rainbow are ash grey….