I need now to reorganize my life

let go of some things that have long been bothering me

unload a few meaningless memories that plague

my every waking moment

I need to rethink the unthinkable

and reevaluate my point and purpose

for being in this world

to regain my bearings

I need to come to terms

with what I've now become

and to forgive myself

for my many past mistakes

to try and make up for all I've now forsaken

and to grieve once and for all

for all that's been lost

I need to make peace finally

with my tormented soul

and to liberate my spirit

from the fallacies of a false and bitter ego

to forge ahead renewed

with refreshed vigor

and restored hope

I need to reset my compass

and to change directions for a new tact

to separate the mirage from the mountain

that looms so ominously upon my horizon

imagine a moment in time

when people's petty egos and frustrations

are no longer permitted

to take away others freedom

or destroy human potential

when all living beings forgotten

are remembered and considered

important to the scheme of things

this would be the coming

of a paradise on earth

a world without violence

an honest history without lies

a society without competitive struggle

without enforced exclusion

deprivation or exploitation

without privileged parasites being allowed

to promote their petty pride

at the expense and sacrifice

of the whole host of humanity

Though no one else

may still believe in me

I yet believe in myself

though no one else may help me succeed

I must continue to help myself

though everyone else may strive

to thwart my efforts

I must strive at all costs

to preserve my purpose

either by evasion or active defense

this is the promise and my purpose

Though no one else

may still believe in me

I yet believe in myself

though no one else may help me succeed

I must continue to help myself

though everyone else may strive

to thwart my efforts

I must strive at all costs

to preserve my purpose

either by evasion or active defense

this is the promise and my purpose

the conspiracy of authority

the complicity of conformity

the obfuscation of uniformity

the deadening silence of the system

the triumph of the number

the only crime of poverty

the only sin is joblessness

money has become the only morality

making more of it the exclusive purpose

of existence in the modern world

having more of it

to improve oneself

charity, humility, generosity

the false conceptions of the dispossessed

the bane of the poor

no more wars

no more revolutions

no more violence

no more victimization

no more exploitation

no more inequality

no more authoritarianism

no more totalitarianism

no more imperialism

no more unconstrained capitalism

no more princes

and no more paupers

no more haves

no more nots

The world suffers from acute socio-moral dwarfism

A few intellectuals and revolutionaries have bestowed

Upon the moral midgets of humanity

the megalomaniac self-appointed leaders of human civilization

A new toy to go to war with--the bomb

Yet it will be too late

It is like giving a child a loaded handgun with a hair-trigger

It will inadvertently commit suicide

Racial suicide is the higher fate of humanity

Atrophied in their educational development

There is no hope for humanity

As long as it continues

To wallow in its moral pigsty it possesses so dearly

Radical pacifist and humanist revolution, from inside out

On the part of every human as a conscientious objector

Must be made to happen quickly

Before some adled moral midget

Gets his fingers on the controls of humanity's destiny

Human rights is the problem

Of the world

Life and health to each

Human born

Liberty and freedom to grow

The capacity to pursue

That which makes such happiness

In each person's own world

Without threat of transgression

By others

Slavery is the problem

Of the world

To false beliefs

To political organizations

To society and ignorance

The wisest course is one of

Strict noninterference

In the rights of others

And one of self-emancipation

From slavehood

Humankind knows too well

How to be slaves

We must now learn about

Human rights

Which are natural, inalienable

And sacred

Violence is learned early

When a young child

Who can barely count

Or even tie his shoes

Knows to throw a stone in contempt

What of my art or my poetry

When the world unrealized

Dwarfs reality and makes us seem so small

Who is the fool who wishes

By his actions or his thoughts

To upset other people's worlds

To force upon them the unwanted

To bring upon themselves their own problems

To live in each other in neglect of the self

The higher destiny alludes human possession

Every person must have the space to grow

The freedom to decide

The time to learn

The solitude to contemplate

The solidarity of the rich experiences of life.

Malcontent and restless my should resides

I have been between without some lifelong purpose

Without some religion or some external dealing

To which I might sacrifice myself

It has all been ad lib art to try to define some

Of the real reason's of life

Without which all I would have would be

To commit suicide or just to live half-heartedly

As if I were dead

Imprisoned in my mind

And my soul a slave

I look at my art and think

What a waste of time

And think life a waste of time

I realize then that for all my hardships

There are people worse off than I

Without the same wealth or chances

Why must I play games with my soul?

Most people are led through life by desires of the flesh

Instead of leading their lives with reason

My heart has been compensation and sublimation

Of other people's unsatisfied desires

Why can't I just let it be

Contentment is divine

Of all the titles and degrees of importance

To attain and have conferred upon one's reputation

There is no better title than being a whole human

Of all the ideals and creeds

There is no greater nor higher belief

Than in being one's own human

No matter how humble or how noble

The human element gives to live

Meaning and sustenance

Nonmaterial and nonsocial

It can be the dearest and the cheapest

To exploit and propagate

The intellectual's grand dilemma

I saw a doodling by a master artist

A unique piece on notebook paper

The only one of its kind

A true collector's find

That sold for six grand

I thought how many mouths six thousand might feed

How many human lives might be worth more than that

I thought of the millions of unique people of the world

And wondered what could possibly be in a name

To be worth so much and so little

Though there may be thousands of cheap imitations

And though most of human existence signifies

Nonsensical and temporary business

Just one successful human in a million

Makes it worth the expense

That people must be free do do those things they need

That is most important to their lives

Normative freedom in living as they choose

Though their choices be in ignorance or prejudice

However much one may wish to interfere in other's lives

The meek unpresuming hands-off attitude is always better

In honest and open social relationships

Ony one person is fooled and hurt by dishonesty

And that is the self

Honesty is all

No matter how distorted or perverted

Life has a natural right to persist

No matter how much they are lifers

Humans have a right to live

People must be left alone to do their own thing

Whether it be good or bad

Always the best policy in the long run

As long as it harms no one but the self

The mark of true greatness

Is in being human

Open and honest with the self

No other value or belief

Has the same measure of importance

Than the belief in being human

The subtle power of creation

So deep in soulful movement

In song, rhyme, melody

The visual inspiration

Subjectivity that transcends

The philosopher's relativity

And limited visions

Of a small world

Making seem too weak

The scientists methods

A timeless value

To reach across seas

And through the ages

To make seem two strangers

Lost on a sea of loneliness

Physically separate

Soulfully together

The hear of love

What is this of death

If not for that precious jewel

The real wealth of humanity

Then death is just another statistic

Such artists are immortal

Yet in this particular death

As singular part of me has died also

The anonymity of the should

Tender memories arise

Unique entities

Gone forever

There is no need for a God

When one has learned to live

content with oneself

let me not hear of despair

Life maybe a game

Of which death has the final call

yet it is a reality to be played

A responsibility not to be shirked

Truth is also a reality

As a part of life

Not to be denied either

The courage of life

the volition of rationality

Not the dishonesty and the irrationality

Not the fear of death

But to die in a violent manner

To perish too young to know

all the secrets of life

Not to be able to live to a ripe old age

And pass away quietly and gratefully

The game lost or won

Life fulfilled right or wrong

That is the crime

It is the violence that is so unnatural

And not the death

Why is this cruelty

When will this violence cease

And in its place reign peace

To make the complex

seem simple

To make the simple

seem complex

That is the value

Of the artist's creation

The philosopher's reason

The scientists deduction

Life has an end beyond itself

Life is integration

No need for divination beyond

Negation of life is self-defeating

Affirmation of life is natural

In all the fine progress

The wealth that civilization has blessed

Upon humanity

To enable fuller expression of life

Something is yet missing

Something lost

Or worse yet never known

That the aborigine and the native

Understood full well

To live content within one's own nature

A dilemma of a dual dichotomization

For all the destruction and death

That which has accompanied

That which we honor as progress

The murder and violence

The persistent ignorance and the prejudice

The alienation and the lonely despair

the malcontent living vicariously

Values in negation of human nature

Two divergent tendencies that

In a quickening acceleration

Threaten to tear humanity apart

Into the oblivion of the primitive condition

On the brink of paradise

And the paradox of all this human story

Like so many grains of sand

So many atoms and drops of water

The resolution of the problem

Is in a single entity

Human nature

To be able to look inside oneself

To reject the insecurity of fear

To recognize all one's own negative tendencies

To shoulder the responsibility of courage

To acknowledge all one's positive tendencies

To deny the first and fulfill the second

To achieve integrity

Never despair of one's purpose

Against a tide of many

That purpose is all important

It is the ultimate solution

I look inside myself

Survey my past record

Question my future

Experience the moment

An integrity never to be repeated

Alone as an island

Despair and hope

I have not given up the fight

I yet live

Enraptured in narcissistic self-expression

Forever battling negative regressions

Losing ground and winning only small victories

Too limited and weak

To convey adequately

the higher emotions and transcendent rationality

Words, in mimicry of true intellection

Make seem of the infinitely complex

Reductively oversimplified

Prejudices spoken and thoughts influenced

What is the point of these words

To convey meanings of truth

While overcomplicating those things

Which are in reality very simple

Knowledge of which is ever evasive

Simple paradoxes, dilemmas and ambiguities

Made into difficult problems

Without any definitive solutions

While surveying my own existence

I see many diverse contradictions

Between my thoughts and my actions

The casual resolution of which

has been my central effort

While the worst prejudices have been

Those unresolved and unrecognized contradictions

Disguised by the apparent

Facility of living

To think only in terms of tendencies

Possibilities, probabilities and patternings

Of interference both destructive and constructive

What is this of a holo-universe

And a holographic soul

When each individual is uniquely spontaneous and instantaneous

Every action forming a different entity

Reality is diversely omni-directional

Composed of many directions and interrelations

While thought remains in a single orientation

Many people speaking and thinking

In many different words

In argument destructively interfering

Everyone meaning the same thing

Without realizing it

Only through concise, objectified constructs

Formalized self-expressions

Achieved alone and without the interference of others

May prejudice be transcended and reflection of truth attained

Fame is the illusion of social recognition

A substitute for inner identity and complacency

Fortune is a compensation for lost time

That cannot be bought or relived

Faith is the crutch of an insecure soul

Reneging of individual responsibility and leadership

The motives are the important factors

In all human actions

Motivations are the richness and depravity of existence

I've been searching for the proper motivation

To enable myself to constructively utilize my time

and my thoughts

in a personal manner

To achieve self-maturation

Dependencies on other people

Selfless narcissism

Social exploitation

Authoritative prejudice

Arising from ignorance

Breeding fear of the unknown

Around which death-motivations grow

These things can never attain transcendent maturation

Learning to cope with loneliness

While transcending the imposition of others

The fate of human existence

Greatness is in name only

True value is only within oneself

Never talk about others

Except to their faces

Never argue any issue

Allow only congenial discussion

Through open, two-way communication

Listening and speaking

Never criticize, categorize, or dichotomize,

Never speak of truth in self-righteousness

Never verbally express an opinion

Except when asked

Or when the situation demands correction

To protect the self and others

And except through literal transmission

If every human lived by the commandment

"Thou shalt not kill"

Then there would be no wars or murder

Of any sort

And yet why do people

Continue to ignore this most ancient and reverent

Teaching of human culture?

No rationalization can justify war

Without first denying this first principle

Humans have progressed in the technical aspects of living

The technical aspects of death have evolved concurrently

Revealing to honest and simple inquiry

The failure of human values and educational development

To keep pace with the proclaimed "progress"

"Modern" humanity is more brutal than its ancient ancestors

A case of mass mania

by a majority of overgrown children

Immature adults atrophied in youth by the lack of proper schooling

The climactic revelation is fast approaching

The catastrophic fate of a democratic humanity

the majority has failed to live naturally with themselves

Striving in many distorted and unnatural ways

To live vicariously in death and self-destruction

If all people should consider the first moral teaching

The precept of human culture and values

And throw down their weapons

Then civilization would become truly human

this is the starting point of peace and paradise

Pacifist revolution by the conscientious objector

The first moral precept of culture

Is the final human imperative for survival

"thou shalt not kill!"

Have no expectations and you will not suffer disillusionment

In your plans

Make no value judgments and you will not be dissatisfied

Be satisfied with the results but always try to do better

Never give up trying

Even in the most desperate moments

Success and failure follow each other

both are continual and temporary

Always pursue your ends yet never carry one

In fixed behavior patterns to the point of absurdity

That you become self-defeating

There are always alternative courses of action

However much hidden or unknown

Only by trying, experimenting, experience fully

Will these new alternatives

Hitherto unknown to you

be discovered

Never fear to initiate new plans of action

The most you can lose is your life

And when you are dead it won't matter anyway

Caution is the crutch for the crippled

Others will cast you in roles you do not fit

Only by yourself can you find your proper role

Let no one stand in the way of your plans

And yet make no one but yourself the ends or means of plans

There are very few true best friends

Do not be fooled by the fakers

A person must learn to be his own best friend

Before he can truly befriend an other

Life is a game meant to be played

Work hard, play hard, live hard, die hard

Drink to the wealth and health of living fully

Experiment, explore, experience and express

Satisfaction is guaranteed.

There are three kinds of love

The first is an inner form

A self-centered love

Giving itself to narcissism

In mind and body

It is a stillborn love

Of immaturity or the atrophied

That leads to hate

For the weak and wounded soul

And eventuates in corruption

And destruction of everything

That is not the self

There is a second form of love

An external kind of romanticism

That has its roots in sexuality

It involves relatedness to the outside world

A giving of oneself to something else

It is a growing and fulfilling love

Yet it is only an interface

A pathway between the self and truth

Leading to the third kind

Yet if growth of love

Fixates in this interim

The results are a total selflessness

A neglect of the self

And misunderstanding and confusion of reality

Ending in self-sacrifice

The third form of love

Is the most difficult to describe

Because it is the most rarely realized

And the least felt or understood

Yet it is the most beautiful

And the most powerful form of love

That a human can hope to attain

It is love full grown and mature

It is simply a love of life

a sublime and intuitive understanding

And reverence for the infinite experiences

Life has to offer

the self is transcended

To a superior sense of being

Neither completely selfish nor selfless

But of a much greater essence

A self at one with reality

A oneness from which neither the subjective

Nor the objective can be divorced

This third form of love

Is at once the highest goal of self-fulfillment

That any human can hope to achieve in life.

I have learned the hard way

Of all the many things

That I do not like

And that I do not want to do

I have found in life only a few things

That appeal to me

And only fewer that I want to do

All the conventions which pervade

Every facet of life to an unconscious degree

The subtle biases that slant our thoughts

Intellect can be as much a hindrance and a menace

As it is a value to discovery

Insofar as convention is well established

And taken for granted

Theory and thought must conform

And ensuring action made very predictable

Behavior becomes self-limiting

and un conducive to invention and creation

It is the revolution against this convention

The trespassing into the forbidden realm

Of the ignorant and the unknown

The temporary suspension of logic

The acceptance of the apparently illogical

That mysterious process known as creativity

Is allowed to occur

Knowledge and logic alone are sterile tools

Incapable of discovering the unexplored realm

That alone is the means of virility and progress

Yet without these sterile tools of science

The intuitive quality of creativity is blind

And discovery of the unknown is useless

It is to the extent that a person

Rises above the culture in which he was born and raised in

That he behaves as a sentient and worthy individual

That he is truly human

There are many different and inherently interesting cultures

Each with its own self-limiting set

Of conscious and unconscious conventions of behavior

So many people have come and gone

And the world is such a big place

that it is very easy to lose a sense of personal purpose

And to become apathetic and insensitive to the needs

Of other humans and to learn how to neglect

The fundamental responsibility of being human

My single soul is relatively unimportant in this world

I suppose it is my fate to be lonely

To be withdrawn and abnormal in many ways

I must content myself with my lot in life

Those very few things that make me happy

In order to survive.

What is this nonsense about the beauty of love?

That it is the all-important part of our lives

A romantic infatuation with the ideal

Blinding to the reality of an ugly world

People live so much of their lives

In vicarious notions of wishes, dreams, hopes

Of fantasies of the past and future

Dreaming of some other world as if in a trance

and when these vicarious states of existence

Come into conflict with the reality of life

They become the source of much anxiety

Fears, regressions, inner dissonance and introspection

The only real evidence of love

that I have found in life

Is the love that springs from satisfaction of needs

It is a completely selfish and utilitarian in this sense

It is based on our dependence upon others

On the practical necessities our lives entail

It leads to dependency on others

to the extent that reality determines our fate

And limits us through our need-dependencies

Does romantic love take over

As a means of compensation for the poverty

And consolation for the depravity

This is the extent to which love becomes realistic

the best course is to resist our ever-present urges

to digress from the present situation

To desist from many vicarious behavior patterns

And to try consciously to glean from moment to moment

The most real love we can from our limited lives

to do one thing at a time

Concentrating every effort into a single direction

And never to procrastinate in our self-fulfillment

To integrate the divisive tendencies of living

This is the only means of spiritual transcendence

Of personality growth and the realization of true love

Improvement is slow and tedious

But it is a sure result

Of real love

When the voice of inner confusion

Becomes so overwhelming

That one cannot accomplish

Anything objective

What can be done?

I have given up hope

For those who will not change themselves

When they have so many opportunities

Change is such a difficult thing to accomplish

But I do not believe it to be impossible

There are so many people

Who have made a responsibility out of irresponsibility

A religion of selfless sacrifice

And institutions of selfish gain

Structures of belief

By which convention and conformity

Become a means for making money

And a standard of worship

Why is it so--

What is the origin of our common strife

That is so deeply rooted

In human nature?

How can there be so many selfish and blind people?

There are no simple solutions to such complex problems

The answers evade my consciousness

And I am left hopeless

My own ignorance overwhelms me

The origin of man's competitive nature

Keeps him from attaining his higher destiny

Suicide is the final act

In this human tragedy

Some say it's there when you are born

Others say that you acquire it when you are young

Some say that the world gives it to you

Others believe it comes from within

Many do not know they have it

Until the come of age and their eyes open wide

To the world which surrounds them

Yet others go through the whole of their lives

Without ever knowing that they have it

And thus die ignorant and if not happy

then some would say at least content

It is something hard to define

And as hard to get rid of

It is not quite a disease

And something akin to a monkey on the back

It can lead a person down many stray paths

That end in cul-de-sac's

In search of something undefined and unknown

It can lead a person into many unhealthy behaviors

No matter how hard one may try

Or how hard one may want to get rid of it

It seems almost impossible to do

Somehow or another it always seems to creep back inside of us

Sometimes it makes one question

Whether you possess it

Or if it really possesses you

And wonder how vile and ugly it must be when exposed

Naked embarrassment when cast from its natural abode within

Often it makes one throw up his hands

And say "that's life"

The more I go through this world

The more I realize how many people have it

And never have I found one without it

Such lucky people must be very rare indeed

Remember this

Whatever it may be

Or feel like inside of a person

The more one can define it

That is the solution to the problem

The more one controls it and can rid oneself of it

The happier and freer that person will be

To give up on it

Is to give up on oneself and let it control you

It is to give up on life

And to eventually die

What is this nonsense about love?

True love is an end in itself

That must not be adulterated by petty human desire

There is nothing romantic about real love

All the sacrifices, pains and suffering

Al the selfish desires and needs

The costs one is will to be subjected to and endure

Is real love worth it?

True love is rare

That much more precious when found

Seldom does it ever occur

Like two distant bodies on a collision course

The chances against it are great

More often love is muted and distorted

A thing of chance or of happenstance

An imperfection of human engineering

That has not transcended the corporeal flesh and bones

The spirit of love imprisoned

Dependency is a better name to call such baser love

When a boy and a girl love

Intimacy and curiosity brings them too close

Ignorant of their own nature

they live together in their shared infatuations

For only a little while

Then both boy feels trapped

And the girl feels cheated

They both loved each other unfairly

But neither can be to blame

both have lost their innocence

They loved a little but not enough

In time they become a man and a woman

With many such loves come and gone

And for new love to endure

Often requires a sacrifice of one for the other

Or to forsake themselves for the sake of their children

Who become their parent's whole love of life

And thus a different and purer kind of love is born

all the petty things that stand

In the way of true love

We either love ourselves too much

To be able to truly love anyone else

Or else we have not yet learned to truly love ourselves

So that others may love us also

To love and to be loved are not the same

Every human being lives in a completely subjective world

And each person's biggest problem is how to know

Other people's worlds and reality

they are often mistaken in thinking such knowledge

Comes from self-denial or overcoming that inherent subjectivity

Yet this is humanly impossible

the biggest problem is precisely how to know ourselves

To feel whole within our subjective worlds

And to gain that feeling requires complete isolation

From the knowledge and world of others

We can never hope to learn to be ourselves

As long as there are other people

We need to worry about or consider

And yet when we withdraw into ourselves

The feeling of loneliness soon commands

We find ourselves missing others

While at a loss of our own knowledge

Loneliness is no the only feeling

We need to be subjected to in our solitude

Love overcomes loneliness

No matter how much we may fail in the attempt

We weill always try to overcome our subjectivity

this is the grand human dilemma

It is the heart of humankind's greatest problem

One we shall never completely solve or escape

I have no friends

And I hate most of this world

I am stingy and stubborn

Many think I am despicable

And worthy only of their contempt

I am worthless to anyone else

I am worthy only to myself

I am cowardly and arrogant

My values are strange and distorted

From the social norm

I do not find the same meaning in life

That others find in it

I am selfish and take for granted

My few advantages and attributes

The older I grow the worse I become

And my existence becomes stranger

Even though I think I know everything

I always find there is more to know

Ungratefully I eat my own words

And yet the more I experience and learn

The more intriguing and interesting

I find my selfish world to be

In spite of al my decadence and corruption

The lonelier my life becomes

The less need I have for others

Their thoughts, opinions or needs

The more I come to understand and know

The greater is my feeling of love for my life

Life is only a game and death is its end

Without death life would be meaningless

Call it what they may

Respect my life they must

We are born innocent and ignorant

Into a world full of apathy and antipathy

And sympathy and empathy are second-class virtues

What a crime and pity it is

to be over-sensitive

In a world so brutishly insensitive

It is better to be dull and uncaring

To give up on oneself

And to allow one's soul to become molded haphazardly

By chance influences and the whims of jealous, selfish people

It is all too easy to become a true believer

In some superhuman delusion

It is not as easy to remain a non-believer

And to just accept disillusionment as logical fate

The price one must pay for wisdom is innocence

The more knowing of truth

The more guilty we become

And those who remain insensitive in ignorance

Elude themselves about their innocence

But they are just as guilty

Of the crime of being inhuman

Simply because we have forsaken an insensitive world

And have refused to give up on our souls

to let ourselves become victimized

By the selfishness of others

Simply by refusing to be insensitive

By being human and not inhuman

Are we guilty

What more eternal hell is there

Than to be boring in a boring world?

Only forty years ago, Japan and Germany

Were a hated enemy

And now they are our unquestioned allies

And the USSR, was was then our ally

Became almost overnight, our hated enemy

What kind of idiocy is this?

To what honorable purpose has all this murder been?

To absolutely no purpose

And now we rest complacently

On the brink of global holocaust

While primitives still control our destiny

What is this about marriage?

For years a brother-in-law and a good friend

And then after the divorce a complete stranger

And the friendships made and lost

All the struggles fought, won and lost

All the work without purpose and play without sense

all the silly games that at one time seemed so important

People will readily sacrifice their lives for any illusion

And yet they cannot just live and let live

they will sacrifice so many other's lives just to keep from dying

and what is this inconsolable fear of death

When death is nothing but the end of the game of life

All the behavior that seems so normal and natural

Upon closer scrutiny revels itself to be alien and pathological

How can so many people live their lives out so unquestioningly?

People are like isolated ships passing in the night

They can live so physically close to one another

And yet in ignorance and apathy remain complete strangers

Those with whom we are so intimate and physically share one another

Often, all too often we are still foreign spiritually

And emotionally separated by a gulf of misunderstanding

I have a pair of sex organs

That I have rarely used

And I feel deeply that they have been wasted for nothing

I look at most people and they are utterly alone

And I see so many lonely eyes craving fulfillment

I tell myself to be satisfied with my lot in life

And yet I can't help thinking that there must be more

That which is humanly normal is very unnatural

How much greater alienation do we need tolerate?

We are willing to live with ourselves

As if to live with the unknown

Whenever I accomplish some task

I feel like I should celebrate

And I discover only that I really do not know how

to be nice to myself

I could go out and get drunk, but that is not being nice to myself

And I realize that I don't know how to make myself happy

though I am so selfish in so many ways

Happiness comes and goes like a tramp

The lack of honesty and the tremendous hypocrisy

So many people are trying to fool each other

And are only fooling themselves

I return to my lonely cell

To sit and stare blindly at the walls

Once marked for a loser

In a game one never had a chance to play

There is no escaping from that prejudice

Good or bad

A person is what he is

An end without need of justification

For other's sake

It is not the people themselves

That re so despicable

But their unchanging behavior

For which they are irresponsible

There is no arbitrary choice of birth

No one every asked to be born

In such a world as this

And yet here we are all the same

With every right to remain

Once fate has decided the wealth

And poverty of our lives

Then all the illusions vanish into meaninglessness

And we go on living without question

Life runs on empty dreams

Schools run on illusions

A machine that feeds us

Undigested and partly processed knowledge

Crammed down our throats

And we recurgitate it on demand

When the proper buttons are pushed

When people leave school

They think and act like they know a great deal

To find that they know very little about life

School is insulated from the harsher realities

But without believers school and life are nothing

Once upon a time one played the game so hard

So determined to be a winner

Only to discover the infinitude of chance influences

That go into the modeling of every human life

And go beyond any human's capacity to alter

We are by-products of a system we can never understand

Games are good in proper perspective

But when life becomes a game

That is only too bad

How can one compete with others when he is a non-competitor?

How can one lose in a game he doesn't play?

Who started this grand game?

One soon discovers that much is lost when he gives up the game

He loses contact with all those who still play fool-hearted

And finds out that most human behavior is geared toward destruction

The price of human existence is a difficult one to pay

Most people are unwilling or unable to change their behavior

And persist in behavior that fills the tremendous gap

Between birth and death with wasted time

This is a tremendous poverty that is difficult to overcome

Many people have nothing better to do than to sport illusion

And these people that waste their precious time

Are the least likely to honestly admit the unimportance of it all

All the superficiality, trivia, waste

Imagine it all banished by a single act of collective willpower

No more religions, no more politics, no more wars

No more making a game of living and dying

No more killing by selfish people

All the great majority of humanity are alienated, intolerant and unquestioning

One discovers in truth that there is nothing new in reality

Its all been here long before humans with our petty ignorance

Happened upon the scene

It is only in the mind that the gap exists

Between ourselves and reality

In the many theories and ideas that define the limits

Of human ignorance and prejudice

If humanity could learn reality overnight

In the morning most behavior would cease

People would go on living

Without the need to murder or even control others

But it is well that while there is only one reality

There is a tremendous diversity of theoretical possibilities

For these possibilities generate new realities

I have given up projecting negative emotions upon myself

Except for the guilt that is my responsibility

I have given up trying to understand other people

Trying to change them or to influence them in any way

People are too caught up in other's problems and destinies

Things that they can only negatively influence

When they neglect their own self-made souls

Independence from other people's dependencies

Is the only path to freedom

I will sit contentedly in my lonely cell

And let the trivial world pass me by

Without too much regret.

The individual is a phenomenon of growth

That when separated from the main stream

By the sanctuary of some small and quite pool

Can grow like a flower blossoming

And while for many the current of life

Is far too swift and strong

It is the blooming of human nature

If left for a long enough time

Unaffected by the eddies and whirlpools

And so rarely has such development

Been left completely uninfluenced and independent

That whether or not it has an end

Is a question open to debate

It is enough to have faith

That it has no human end

Except death

This is natural culture

There is also an artificial culture

The collective influence of many such individuals

The contributions of many people's immortal efforts

Have built a great temple

Of philosophy, science, knowledge and art

It is intangible and immaterial

It can only be entered by reason and intuition

This temple has become so immensely grand

That it is quite incomprehensible in its entirety

A person may spend an entire life-time

Just appreciating the beauty

Of only a small portion of it

This temple

Which is shared by all humanity

Is much greater

Than any temple

made of stone

And whether there is any limit

To the extent of its construction

Is also a question

That is open to debate

It is enough to have faith

That it is truly unlimited.

I always wonder about myself

Whether I am a paranoid artist

Or an artistic paranoid

Or just a hypcrite fooling only myself

Our more deep-seated prejudices and biases

Are clues to our inner weaknesses

We project on others those qualities

That we reject within ourselves

To find ourselves the greatest perpetrators

And the merciless victims of self-manipulation

And what good actors we really must be

Able to fit many parts with ease

To put on any face, costume and fit any character

From our hidden treasures

Whenever occasion of need arises

And who do we strive to impress most

Ourselves or others?

It is not well

To be so certain about the world

Or aout one's own nature, life or destiny

To be so detached from one's emotions

It is a very sick state of being

To know oneself too well.

On paper or canvas

Always beginning my art

On a clean surface

by the time I'm done

I've done more erasing

Than drawing

So it seems with existence

Life becomes delineated by the mistakes

Two steps forward and one backward

I have so little to show

For all the planning, worrying and tiring effort

And yet to question whether it's all been worth it

Is to foolishly beg for an impossible wish

As I become older

The more my past mistakes and success stack up

the more accepting I become of my fate

The fewer are the possibilities for change

Time shortens a my character becomes more inflexible

Yet the fewer become the trivial worries

And the lighter my burden

In the final judgment

Whether the strength of wisdom

Or the weakness of infirmity shall prevail

If this is what maturity is

Then it has been worth the losses

Maturity is meeting the loud audacity of inexperienced youth

With a generous and simple smile

Needing only silence to express its profundity

The days, weeks, months of the years

The holidays and seasons

those cycles by which our passing is marked

Quicken in tempo

As memories increase and excitement wanes

Growing old consists of changes

Sneaking up from behind

And being unexpectedly surprised

It means bearing witness to many strange feelings and experiences

That leave one in bewilderment

It means finding that world of which you were once a part

slowly fading out to become mere memories

While reality has suddenly changed

It means becoming bored and restless

And yet being to tired and weak to change

What a fine line

Separating the good from the bad

That differentiates the natural from the pathological

Which distinguishes greatness from deviance

And genius from insanity

Makes one wonder if it might not be contrived rationality

What a thin cord

Between life and death

The callings and elements of all extremes

Are to be found in each and every soul

And the conflicts that consumes the interior world of the soul

Find expression and reflection in the exterior world of the other

The key to every kind of human power

Rests within the heart of will power

The core of all the worlds most pressing problems

May be found within the solitary individual

The solution to a better world

May only be realized in solitude

To perish by intention or accident

Would be to please others

Who despise my self-respect

to give up and to take one's own life

Is an admission of defeat

And a victory for the conquering worms

It is to allow the many losers in life

Who do not have the courage to realize their potential

And who exploit the energies of others like parasites

To become the winners in one's death

And yet to allow my brief life

to be consumed in frustration and despair

to quit trying to improve myself in the things I do

And not to attempt

To achieve some golden balance

To glean a little happiness

To feel a little love

To understand a little truth

It would be just as well to be dead

Than to suffer the other world that does not care

And that persecutes the world of the self

Never listen or follow other people

The self will always be misled

Life will founder upon the shoals of hardship

and the future will be a dead-end

True sacrilege is for those others

Who live life as if they were dead

Who neglect the callings of the spirit

Lucky I am to be born and live

In this place and time

For in almost any other place and time

My lot in life would have been

Most difficult and different

When the holocaust is done

What will it be like then?

When the amount of death and devastation

Have set a new worldwide record

What use then will be these politician's promises?

When the few desperate survivors

Wonder in dazed bewilderment

And suffer the shock of traumatic disillusionment

Who would believe it were possible?

When children and pets are incinerated and blown to bits

When all traces of civilization and culture

Have crumbled like crushed dust

Who will accept the diffused responsibility

For the resurrection of the primitive?

When the world is beset by the holocaust

Like a thousand earthquakes

A thousand tornados

A thousand tidal waves

A thousand typhoons

A thousand floods and inundations

A thousand volcanic eruptions

A thousand firestorms

A thousand pestilential plagues

A thousand infectious diseases

A thousand disastrous accidents

A thousand natural disasters

A thousand draughts

A thousand famines

All within the brief span of a single day

What good will then be the personal power

And petty selfishness of those

Who refused to believe that it could happen?

What good will be all the denials and refusals

To confront and solve the problems beforehand?

What it is all over and the problems have just begun

When then will be the divine and holy intervention

And the salvation of the devoted

By a messiah, a Jesus, a Mohammed, a Buddha

Or any other demigod or false idol

The megatons of mega-deaths that will rain down

Torrentially upon the megalopolises of this brave new world

And reduce it swiftly to its most primitive elements

the return to a cowardly world of fear and ignorance

The reign of an unnatural selection

Thousands of deadly bombs ready to be used

What can happen eventually will happen

To entertain a false sense of pride

to believe in a false sense of hope

To trust a false sense of security

To accept false promises and praise false leaders

The consequences of such minor mistakes

Are unacceptably self-evident

The continuing persistence of false delusions

Will only lead to holocaust

To believe blindly is to commit a crime

To deny the truth is to transgress upon humanity

to be deceitful is to crucify the future of civilization

And yet who will be punished for this general irresponsibility?

Our posterity.

There is no more generous consolation

Nor more relaxing respite

Than gentle unsullied slumber

To forget all the worrisome trivialities

In the illusions of a well-contrived dreamland

What wondrous machinations are our dreams

Veritable holographic programs

Strange and intriguing confabulations

An endless series of possibilities

Drawn from a multifaceted holographic memory

It makes on wonder who directs our dreams

We are not just a passive audience

We become the main characters

Actively alive in all the senses

True to life drama

No better way to act out

Our most vicarious fantasies

And yet in our sleep

there is another dreamlike state

Midway between deep sleep

And full wakefulness

A semi-conscious state of awakening

In which the mind

Content as it is in such harmony

Resists for a brief time

The complete interruption

Of the confusions of reality

It is in such a state

Only vaguely felt and strangely indefinable

That the truths of life a most intensely felt

With a sense of whole indulgence of emotion

And in a complete sense of confident certainty

It would behoove ourselves

To bring greater clarity and understanding

That transition state of being

Into closer touch with awakened consciousness

Then might reality be improvable

And be rid of all these confusions and anxieties

That so plague and hinder all our wakeful activity

As it is description cannot even come close in comparison

Except perhaps in a few rare exalted states

Of super consciousness and semi-consciousness

What strength has the hones and simple soul

Against the many complex devices and tricky weapons of the world?

What power to overcome the prejudice, ignorance and fear

To defeat all strategies of force and terror?

With what may the greed for god, gold and glory

Be confidently confronted and completely disposed?

There is only one way

That is the power of love

Love is adulterated by many disguises

Stripped of all the ill-contrived deceptions and romantic illusions

True love is a naked baby

That has not label and knows no condition

The object of true love is an end by itself

That needs not to be justified, forgiven nor forsaken

Nor subordinated to any other end

the human capacity for true love

Is the best sign of hope

For the salvation of humanity

True love shall eventually triumph

Over all manner of lesser human power

Hope for future success

Resides within me

I place complete confidence

In myself as a person

I gamble my whole life

On that trust

In my own integrity

Others derogate what I am

Or who I may potentially be

They fit me into narrow contexts

Of their own small worlds

Without consideration for my feelings

And unwisely pass judgment upon me

About which I do not agree

I have become tired and impatient

Playing useless games

I have written my own

Declaration of Independence

And no one can take it away from me

Except by murdering me.

Human existence is caught in a dilemma

In every aspect there is a double meaning

For our behavior

And sometimes in stress

Our standards become double-crossed

By our actions

there is plain common sense

And then there is an underlying meaning

Only available through reflection

The final interpretation

Be it good or bad

Depends upon the consistency and accuracy

Of those theories of deeper understanding

They does not alter the truth

It only determines our understanding

And interpretation of it

Read the writing on the wall

And those books that re like so many bricks

That construct our world of conceptual world

In any painting or poem

The artist's soul is plainly revealed

With honest and clever interpretation

Glean the most essential elements

And fit them in with the artist's life

That is the best means of interpretation

Take a long look

At those things I have done

Though they may be simple and few

Yet to the honest observer

They allow a glimpse

Of the direction that I have come

And an intuition of the way

I am headed

And a brief understanding

Of ourselves

Our world so neatly compartmentalized

Into so many opposing views

With an obscuring veil

Blinding us

From other worlds and lives

And separating us into lonely citizens

Survey the vast immeasurable reaches

Of our incomprehensible universe

Consider the diminished meaning

Of being a human ant

In a redundant and wasteful world

Those ideals we once believed so true

Become suddenly foolish fallacies

Of strange and newly discovered realities

Making our actions seem so futile

Feeling strongly the debilitating impotency

Of a sorely shrunken comprehension

Witness the birth of a new world superman

With such hopes and expectations of greatness

Immune to those human weaknesses

Insensitive to those humble feelings

Of the old world man

Sense of purpose, honor and integrity

Squashed by the shear magnitude

Of boredom, apathy and namelessness

Space voyager and mountain mover

Noble warrior and strange journeyer through time

Overwhelmed by an inundation of artificial harmonies

Wounded ego crawling into a shell of make believe

Hiding from a fragile paper world

Frightened by imagined shadow monsters

So much of the way we think

Seems so dichotomized

Into opposing worlds of belief

A division that seems so evident

Coursing through every mode of life

Coming between every word and act

And yet so difficult to define

To sacrifice seems so human

Whether to sacrifice oneself or another

Whether to opt for fulfillment of desire

And the closeness of family

Or to struggle against loneliness and despair

Through an uncertain career of self-gratification

Who can be to blame for such difficult choices

When there are so many little considerations

Each individual born into a unique set of circumstances

Each with a different set of problems to solve

To make the poor rich

To make the rich happy

Such easy words to write

So hard to be born to a fate of poverty

And so difficult to sacrifice for change

Where does the money, time, and energy come from?

Where does the motivation, concern, hope and willpower materialize?

Why should people opt for things unknown and unrealized

When it is so easy to despair and quit

And to accept one's own fate

The difficulty is to maintain a balance

Between security and sacrifice

Between dependency and integrity

Between desire and deferment

Between liberty and responsibility

Between freedom and justice

Between living and dying

An ego problem

To create means of compromise

And not to tip the scales too much

In either direction

Life is not fair

No one ever said it was fair

Life is extremely unfair

And for many it is very unhappy

Much more hardship than pleasure

Too bad all people

Can't have their fair share

Of those few simple things

That everyone deserves

Love, health and a little contentment

Not to need to spend their precious lives

Searching for things

That were never there

We are witnesses

To only the beginning

Of many new and unusual problems

To be solved

So weak is our understanding and foresight

That in ignorance we have slipped into them

Without seeking prevention

The illness of this new way of living

Has not yet manifested itself completely

A generation born with unsurpassed expectations

Of having fun, of an easy living, and material wealth

Of growth, and achievement unending

to face a difficult life of difficult times

With learned dependency, helplessness and laziness

The good times are fading slowly away

And those who must face them

Have not been prepared to do so

To be born to stupid parents

The wrong color or in religious ignorance

to be too fat or too ugly

To be handicapped or stigmatized

To have some disproportionate feature

Or idiosyncratic behavior

Or just to be plain and unexceptional

These are to be part of a social disease

That must confront an inbred racism

that cuts across social groups

The fate of not being born wealthy, beautiful or powerful

To be condemned by heritage and birthright

To a meager and disproportionately dissatisfying life

What a pity to have expectations too high

For one's own lot in life

What rational and sane person

Would not seek improvement in his life

If that person were given the opportunity?

What person wouldn't stand in line

If he figured the chances were good?

Who doesn't want a chance to prove himself?

Who doesn't want a good job

and success from working hard?

And yet what are people to do

When they are not allowed those chances

When their luck is down

And no jobs are to be found

And no support is around?

Peel off every label

And underneath there will always be

Only pure human being

Running on empty

This world is so well controlled

That few people ever realize

that they are actually playing a game

The people on the top

Want to remain on top

And the people beneath

Struggle against one another to climb higher up

In all their competition they keep bringing each other down

The people at the bottom

Face insuperable odds

Withut help from above

Their chances of success are nil

Their chances of survival grim

Truth is the key to success

Understanding is a tool well guarded by the system

Innuendos, musical chairs, illusions

trivia, delusions, sensationalism, commercialism

Propaganda and enforced ignorance and prejudice

Are all used to overwhelm the senses

And sap that psychic power

Of those who get behind

Yet once knowing that well guarded secret

There is nothing to stop you

Except that no one around you

Will listen or believe in you

And the price you must pay

For writing it all down

Is with your life

And who in the system pays the highest price

For acceptance, respect and gratitude

It is the young men who bear the burden

Who go to war or go to prison

Who pay for their food with their sweat and muscles

Who aren't given credit for their brains

Who in laconic fashion are left in poverty

Who work hardest for little satisfaction

Who are left without emotional security

Or the chance to fulfill their own being

Making human rights seem a joke

I would gladly lay down my life

If it would save others

And make me a hero

I wait patiently and resolutely

For any little chance to prove myself

And yet such opportunities are few and meager

I vie for a chance for excitement

for any opportunity for self-improvement

And yet to face a life

Of petty frustration and unending boredom

And in my despair I have given up my wait

and have decided to make my own opportunities

to give up playing other people's games

To become good at playing my own

Exceptional as my strategy may be

I am not sure of where it will get to

But it can't be much worse than it has already been

No matter how bad things get in the future

Trying to return to some yesterday

Will only make things worse

There is no returning in life

Learn to encounter wholly

Rather than to be controlled by a plan

Start from scratch

And resurrect the shambles of ignorance

To make a decision

Ride it out to the end

Learn from the many mistakes

And try it all again

Turn a deaf ear to the crowd

Rely upon one's own experience

And one's own best judgment

Improving that decision-making ability

And turn it into a talent

By which to impress others

Learn to listen to the noiseless callings of the heart

And let the visceral feeling of intuition

Become the guiding light

Develop a unique style of self-expression

Normative development is stemmed

Very early in the flock

Transcend the abject poverty

That abounds and surrounds the world

With competent self-reliance

It is intuition that

Has lead humanity for the darkness of the past

It is intuition that creates the arts, sciences, mathematics and philosophy

Those things that are humankind's pride

It is intuition that brightens

Our stormy future

I am so burnt out

So irretrievably lost

Ignorance engulfs and stifles

A frightening curtain of blindness and illusion

To figure it all out

Why we don't think

The world is much harder

Than it really seems

Everything is too complex

There are no easy answers

I'm so lazy and believe in play

Other's think I'm nothing

And yet I find no recourse

there is so much to thing about

So many directions in which to go

There is so much t do

I play so many games

A confused hedonist without pleasure

I am so ungrateful

And yet I am so lucky

The overwhelming majesty

Of being alive and life all around

There are so many difficult choices

You do not need to look for problems

They will come to you by the dozen

All you have to do

Is to sit back and wait

When I am old and experienced

Then I can say how it really is

And I can tell everyone how I feel

But then they won't listen to me

I never stop moving forward

The world never stops changing

My mind tells me to change

But my body doesn't want to move

I put the dog into my prison world

And I didn't even ask it

A world of love and hate

Married and conceived humanity

Admit and apologize

Mother I have murdered father

And now I have become enslaved to his memory

Trying to resurrect his ego

Crucified on the cross of holiness

I don't see how I'll get too far

Doing things like I am

People like me never get very far

There's no evidence of people like me

Always burning bridges behind them

Day in and day out

Week after week after week after week

I keep doing the same old thing

I keep going in the same old direction

And don't really know why

Why waste time worrying

About a few moments of a long life

When in the vast incomprehensible universe

Time is without end

When the bleak and cold expanses

Are measured by many lifetimes of instantaneity?

The whole human event is but a brief and passing phenomenon

That diminishes a single human lifetime into utter meaninglessness

This petty human existence is not so meaningful to me

To require the effort of pinching every second

To squeeze the most juice from life

The importance comes in being able

To meet adequately the unpredictable train of events

In a consistent manner

To work from a stance of a well unified sense of integrity

So as not to have my senses and rationality

Be so overwhelmed by unexpected events

That I lose control over my behavior

And lose foresight of my final goal

To live life as fully as possible

If it means sometimes appearing

Slow and awkward to others

It is their misconception

From trying to take things too fast

People can believe what they want

And can maintain any value system they desire

So long as they do not harm others by their behavior

Or try to force others to accept those values

Isn't that the problem of the world?

People forcing values upon others

Without regard for personal integrity

Without the grant of individual liberty?

For people to choose their own value system

It begins with a selfish parent

Who tries to govern the life of the child

By dictating every little choice and decision

Not giving that child the chance to develop normatively

It becomes an integral part of the vast and complex social system

The individual being forced to accept

A regimen of preclusive values that he did not formulate

Or else suffer rejection with all its insufferable consequences

People so unwilling to relinquish to others

That necessary freedom of expression

Whose own petty fears and frustration

Become debilitating for others about them

The worst part of this human story

Are the tragic consequences

Of so minor a neglect of personal responsibility

The sorrow and the hurt of so many lost souls that goes unmended

The crippling dependency and stifling conformity

The lack of self-confidence and the need for crowd approval

All the most despicable characteristics of human nature

To improve their own world and the world of others

People must help themselves

But they must be given the chance to do so

But the grant of freedom by others who can stand in their way

Recollections

2003