How do you know when you will die. ¿ Sepas cuando vas a morir? ¿Comó vas? ¿Comó presentará? How will you die? How will it appear to you? We can walk this world planning our deaths, discussing the multiple possibilities (el infinito... las infinitas posibilidades)... What is the best way, the easiest way to leave. How do YOU want to die? In your sleep? Fucking your lover? A heart attack at the moment of orgasm? Encima de tú amante... Envuelto en los brazos de tú amor... Un infarto en el momento de orgasmo... Tal vez se embaraza con la ultima esperma que salio de tú cuerpo, de tú pene, de tú pito y ahorra es imposible van olvidarte... How will YOU die...? ¿Comó vas a morir? ¿Comó murieras?
Sí en esta forma tú mujer, tú hijo nunca conocieras valio verga... Pero, tú fuiste a la vergada... Él no. Le quiere doble tú mujer porque el verdaderamente eres tú y es su hijo... un regalo...
Tienes derecho vivir a good life? Estarias protegido del estato comó ciudadano? comó humano? Te protege dios, el Señor, Jesus, el Cristo, la Virgen, de Guadalupe, el José quien se encontro con la virgen, aquí en Mexico o aya en Nazareth...? Pero, José significa "pendejo" no es cierto...? Ya, me mataria solo con el ultimo comentario... Pero, solo porque quieren matar alguien, no porque a ellos les importa un bledo quien fue José...
How will you die? How will I die? How will we die?
Yesterday he was running marathons, looked normal... Today, a month later destroyed by Lymphatic Cancer... Says to his wife, to his daughters, "let me go, don't waste what little we have saved..." But she can't let him go that way and now they will subject him to ChemoTherapy. But, in a month the cancer spread from his jaw and mouth to his legs... In a month he went from running a mini-marathon to not being able to walk... Who planned this one?
This isn't a joke... It's just bilingual stream of consciousness... Me... How would you dance with death? You've gotta embrace it because it's the only guarrantee you've got...
¿Comó bailarias con la Muerte? Tienes que abrazarla... Es la unica garantia tienes aquí...
Pico de Orizaba
Taken from Huatusco, Veracruz, the closest town to Margarita's family's ranch.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Blog Headings... 2: Memories of a Suicidal
This is the second time I've changed the heading of my blog. The first time last May, I changed the title and didn't return to the blog. It was a momentary inspiration thinking about my first girlfriend Francesca and all that happened with and around her or within me before "us" between 1985 and 1989. I was cooking, probably listening to music and momentarily thinking about those memories. I thought I would finally write about that... So, I changed the heading to "Memories of a Suicidal"... Then I immersed myself in my painting; a much less threatening form of creative projection... I run into dilemmas every time I consider the projection of the "theme" of my life. Suicide... Yes, that was a theme. However, it was a theme and not the theme. What is suicide? If I pursue this theme as the headline of my life, the most recent idea that comes to my mind is Suicide is one possible response by a person desperate to change their existential environment. Back in the mid-80s when I greatly desired that escape I was informed that suicide was illegal; I could be put in prison for trying to kill myself... Sounds a bit absurd, don't you think. Maybe the accurate legal response would have been for the police officer to "pop a cap in my head"... and put me out of my misery; One less burden upon the society; one less mishap; one less stressor on the public school system; one less mouth to feed; one less risk; one less ill person (mentally or physically)... One less semi-orphan possible ward of the state... One less tax burden and possible medicaid recipient... Put a bullet in his head. Much more efficient. Much more cost effective. I don't believe in the Arian Race fantasy. But I do believe that the human race should strive towards being truly healthier... How do we do that? We let the truly suffering remove themselves from that dilemma... Back then, back in the mid-80s when I suffered horrible diress, horrible angst and found myself cutting my arms in the symbolic attempt towards releasing the excess pressure; when the blood was spilling on my bedroom floor, I felt a momentary relief... Well, back then, I was informed that suicide is a blatant disregard of the feelings of those who "loved" me; that if I killed myself, those people would be horribly resentful towards me. Selfishness. Did I know how horrible that would be for my mother, for my sisters? What a horrible thing to do to them!
Ok. You endure. You continue. You don't off yourself. You struggle and endure their criticisms, their discomfort with your discomfort. And then one day you overcome most of your shit and you disappear from their perpetual projection of you upon their minds. You are dead in their life. What's the difference? Well, you didn't kill yourself. But who's business is that? Your life and your death is yours and only yours. No one truly cares as you care. We all die. There is an infinite number of ways you may die. And you will die. How and why? Well, the why is simple, because it is a factor built into your material/physical existence. The how? I guess we'll learn about that at it's given time...
Suicide: Repressed Anger... Interesting idea. I was angry. I repressed my anger at times. Why was I angry? I'm sure I'm still angry. At my mother? My father dead before I reached the age of 5? My sisters? My peers? My relatives? Life? God? Sounds a bit absurd. Angry at Life? At God? 43-years-old angry at my mother, at my sisters, at my peers, at my father dead before I turned 5-years-old and who passed his deep black vein of perpetual genetic risk to me...
No. Suicide is the response of someone who sees no "healthy" escape from their horribly difficult life struggle... Why accuse them; the suicidal?
The problem is that we don't have time or patience or the energy to ask why? what happened? what's going on in your life? And maybe we don't have the capacity for responding constructively or compassionately... Maybe we're not truly interested... Looking back at this, I say to myself that I shouldn't be angry with you for being you... You couldn't come up with the interest, the compassion, the desire to truly help. Why should you have? Who were you; who are you anyway...?
There was a trainwreck in development. The reels may have been warped from way before I was born. This is why I changed the heading of the blog to Perpetual November; Spring Eternal in My Mind; Late Summer Labyrinths... When you are skiing in the Poconos or in New Hampshire or upstate New York or in Vermont and you begin losing control, falling off balance, there is a moment when you desperately try righting yourself and then you realize that the crash is imminent and you just fall into it... I was born onto a black diamond slope and there was only one option and that option was to learn about imminent crashes and try righting myself the best I can... One possible response to living in a purpetual train wreck is suicide. Once and for all you remove yourself from the perpetual train wreck...
Do you remember the first time you tried standing up on skiis on a slight snowy slope? Imagine that slope being a black diamond route with moguls... Imagine that by some strange "miracle" your body maintained itself upright as the skiis picked up speed downhill... Theres a ledge or an edge or a drop and on that drop there are moguls not meant for slowing you, but for breaking you... (if you are a small child and not a trained skier) But you are just a small child. You are not an adult...
You hear resentment? No, it's not about that. It's just an explanation... Perpetual Novembers... malaise, depression, imminent death, concern, fear, worry... Spring Eternal in my Mind... A repeated miracle of hope and positive energy that was a temporary experience repeating itself occasionally usually temporal beginning in February and lasting until late July... I carry with me this Spring Eternal in my Mind and realize that it's a place we must go... Somehow we must transform the late Autumn sliding into Winter death into some form of an Eternal Spring. How do we do that? Changed perspectives; much depends upon circumstances. Just as you can convert winter demise into eternal springs, that eternal spring can slide directly into late Autumn's leafless trees. Everyone understands that a smile easily converts into a frown without warning. It's frustrating. It's sadenning when that smile converts into that frown. We don't want to live that way.
Yesterday I sold enough coffee to carry us positively into the future. Tomorrow? Yesterday I painted what some people would call wonderful paintings, what kept me in enthusiastic awe... But I had to put the painting aside to sell coffee. And I sold well. But then we returned home to a bedroom/studio full of Efforvescence and mold spores due to horrible water damage in the roof, due to blatant irresponsibility by first José "Montaña" (the original owner and constructor of the house) and then by one of the current landlords who promised he would seal the roof before the summer monsoons (there were 3 months in Spring with strong unabstructed sunlight) and waited until we complained of waterfalls through our ceiling midway into the monsoons. In effect Cruz effectively ceiled the water into the roof and ceiling, giving it only one direction to slowly leave the roof and that was into the bedroom/studio. I developed an allergic reaction to the mold spores. For a week we did some heavy cleaning of the ceiling and the residue. The reaction disappeared leaving me with what appears as Asthma. I haven't been painting much. However, I am running 3 miles a day, 5 days a week, coughing along the way, although running well. I trade one positive for another positive, although I would prefer the two positives..., since a day, a week, a lifetime is comprised of time slots we must fill, utilize. Between the fairs, I don't run all day. I don't cook all day. I don't read all day. I would love for positive writing enthusiasm. However, maybe I've awaked from that adolescent dream. I paint differently than others. However, I wonder if it's something that can carry us into the future, like selling cupcakes had and like selling coffee does... However, there is a spiritual journey that seemingly was born through my painting, although I know already existed well before my father died, a journey within which I was born... Written into my destiny was my father's death and his passing me the gene and all the subsequent difficulties... There is a pressure within me, ever since I started writing poetry in the 80s, to express the related intensity, the love, the journey, the tragedy... I can't express that with wonderful gourmet cupcakes that almost killed me... I can't express that with coffee... I can't express it with wonderful international cuisine... I can't express it with running towards a marathon. I am not a trained artist. I can't express what is in my mind. However, something expresses itself through my crazy painting... And then I wonder if it's true and what it is expressed... My painting has become more abstract, probably because who we truly are, how we truly sense the world, what is truly occuring... is sensed and not truly seen or understood... But how can the painting take me into the future? One day I will have a house full of paintings (I have a house filling with paintings) and I will wonder what is the point? I wonder what is the point... What am I seeking? However, the painting opened the door to the world of being... back in 1997... One year later, I still haven't explained that part of the New York City journey...
Filling time and space... It's an adult reality. And then, one day, the sand runs out in the hourglass... No more time... No more space for filling... And all the paintings... all the poems... all the "exotic" dishes cooked or baked... all the loving experiences... all the inter-personal conflicts... all the concerns... all the memories... all the memories of passion... of creativity of shared experiences of horrors of tragedies of accomplishments of sensed or imagined failures... Over. Turn of the page? No. End of time and space filled. End of the filling... End of the hourglass...
Late Summer Laberynths... is a personal spiritual reality of the complexity of my destiny or life journey or universal perspective or internal perspective. I am an artist. I am a social antropologist... I am a social and political critic a 15-year-old philosopher laying on the side of a hill in Branchburg alongside Peter Coletti staring up at the stars. A spiritual theorist... A pretty great cook. I am a hermit. I believe in social justice, honesty and truth. I believe in the spirit and in destiny and in our spiritual connections and our lack there of... I believe in the eternal I or the eternal US.... I don't believe in religion. This is the laberynth...
And, yes, I consider myself fortunate having "failed" with my suicidal response... I've learned a ton about the world, about myself, about others and about "love" during the late summer of my belated youth...
About death, I believe our bodies die. But we continue.
Francesca is married, lives in Long Valley, New Jersey (a region I explored in 1988 as a Kirby Vacuum Salesman towards the end of our tragic relationship that erased itself as oceans erase sandbars and salt deposits...) She has 3 children.
Who knows? Maybe I'll return to this blog.
Ok. You endure. You continue. You don't off yourself. You struggle and endure their criticisms, their discomfort with your discomfort. And then one day you overcome most of your shit and you disappear from their perpetual projection of you upon their minds. You are dead in their life. What's the difference? Well, you didn't kill yourself. But who's business is that? Your life and your death is yours and only yours. No one truly cares as you care. We all die. There is an infinite number of ways you may die. And you will die. How and why? Well, the why is simple, because it is a factor built into your material/physical existence. The how? I guess we'll learn about that at it's given time...
Suicide: Repressed Anger... Interesting idea. I was angry. I repressed my anger at times. Why was I angry? I'm sure I'm still angry. At my mother? My father dead before I reached the age of 5? My sisters? My peers? My relatives? Life? God? Sounds a bit absurd. Angry at Life? At God? 43-years-old angry at my mother, at my sisters, at my peers, at my father dead before I turned 5-years-old and who passed his deep black vein of perpetual genetic risk to me...
No. Suicide is the response of someone who sees no "healthy" escape from their horribly difficult life struggle... Why accuse them; the suicidal?
The problem is that we don't have time or patience or the energy to ask why? what happened? what's going on in your life? And maybe we don't have the capacity for responding constructively or compassionately... Maybe we're not truly interested... Looking back at this, I say to myself that I shouldn't be angry with you for being you... You couldn't come up with the interest, the compassion, the desire to truly help. Why should you have? Who were you; who are you anyway...?
There was a trainwreck in development. The reels may have been warped from way before I was born. This is why I changed the heading of the blog to Perpetual November; Spring Eternal in My Mind; Late Summer Labyrinths... When you are skiing in the Poconos or in New Hampshire or upstate New York or in Vermont and you begin losing control, falling off balance, there is a moment when you desperately try righting yourself and then you realize that the crash is imminent and you just fall into it... I was born onto a black diamond slope and there was only one option and that option was to learn about imminent crashes and try righting myself the best I can... One possible response to living in a purpetual train wreck is suicide. Once and for all you remove yourself from the perpetual train wreck...
Do you remember the first time you tried standing up on skiis on a slight snowy slope? Imagine that slope being a black diamond route with moguls... Imagine that by some strange "miracle" your body maintained itself upright as the skiis picked up speed downhill... Theres a ledge or an edge or a drop and on that drop there are moguls not meant for slowing you, but for breaking you... (if you are a small child and not a trained skier) But you are just a small child. You are not an adult...
You hear resentment? No, it's not about that. It's just an explanation... Perpetual Novembers... malaise, depression, imminent death, concern, fear, worry... Spring Eternal in my Mind... A repeated miracle of hope and positive energy that was a temporary experience repeating itself occasionally usually temporal beginning in February and lasting until late July... I carry with me this Spring Eternal in my Mind and realize that it's a place we must go... Somehow we must transform the late Autumn sliding into Winter death into some form of an Eternal Spring. How do we do that? Changed perspectives; much depends upon circumstances. Just as you can convert winter demise into eternal springs, that eternal spring can slide directly into late Autumn's leafless trees. Everyone understands that a smile easily converts into a frown without warning. It's frustrating. It's sadenning when that smile converts into that frown. We don't want to live that way.
Yesterday I sold enough coffee to carry us positively into the future. Tomorrow? Yesterday I painted what some people would call wonderful paintings, what kept me in enthusiastic awe... But I had to put the painting aside to sell coffee. And I sold well. But then we returned home to a bedroom/studio full of Efforvescence and mold spores due to horrible water damage in the roof, due to blatant irresponsibility by first José "Montaña" (the original owner and constructor of the house) and then by one of the current landlords who promised he would seal the roof before the summer monsoons (there were 3 months in Spring with strong unabstructed sunlight) and waited until we complained of waterfalls through our ceiling midway into the monsoons. In effect Cruz effectively ceiled the water into the roof and ceiling, giving it only one direction to slowly leave the roof and that was into the bedroom/studio. I developed an allergic reaction to the mold spores. For a week we did some heavy cleaning of the ceiling and the residue. The reaction disappeared leaving me with what appears as Asthma. I haven't been painting much. However, I am running 3 miles a day, 5 days a week, coughing along the way, although running well. I trade one positive for another positive, although I would prefer the two positives..., since a day, a week, a lifetime is comprised of time slots we must fill, utilize. Between the fairs, I don't run all day. I don't cook all day. I don't read all day. I would love for positive writing enthusiasm. However, maybe I've awaked from that adolescent dream. I paint differently than others. However, I wonder if it's something that can carry us into the future, like selling cupcakes had and like selling coffee does... However, there is a spiritual journey that seemingly was born through my painting, although I know already existed well before my father died, a journey within which I was born... Written into my destiny was my father's death and his passing me the gene and all the subsequent difficulties... There is a pressure within me, ever since I started writing poetry in the 80s, to express the related intensity, the love, the journey, the tragedy... I can't express that with wonderful gourmet cupcakes that almost killed me... I can't express that with coffee... I can't express it with wonderful international cuisine... I can't express it with running towards a marathon. I am not a trained artist. I can't express what is in my mind. However, something expresses itself through my crazy painting... And then I wonder if it's true and what it is expressed... My painting has become more abstract, probably because who we truly are, how we truly sense the world, what is truly occuring... is sensed and not truly seen or understood... But how can the painting take me into the future? One day I will have a house full of paintings (I have a house filling with paintings) and I will wonder what is the point? I wonder what is the point... What am I seeking? However, the painting opened the door to the world of being... back in 1997... One year later, I still haven't explained that part of the New York City journey...
Filling time and space... It's an adult reality. And then, one day, the sand runs out in the hourglass... No more time... No more space for filling... And all the paintings... all the poems... all the "exotic" dishes cooked or baked... all the loving experiences... all the inter-personal conflicts... all the concerns... all the memories... all the memories of passion... of creativity of shared experiences of horrors of tragedies of accomplishments of sensed or imagined failures... Over. Turn of the page? No. End of time and space filled. End of the filling... End of the hourglass...
Late Summer Laberynths... is a personal spiritual reality of the complexity of my destiny or life journey or universal perspective or internal perspective. I am an artist. I am a social antropologist... I am a social and political critic a 15-year-old philosopher laying on the side of a hill in Branchburg alongside Peter Coletti staring up at the stars. A spiritual theorist... A pretty great cook. I am a hermit. I believe in social justice, honesty and truth. I believe in the spirit and in destiny and in our spiritual connections and our lack there of... I believe in the eternal I or the eternal US.... I don't believe in religion. This is the laberynth...
And, yes, I consider myself fortunate having "failed" with my suicidal response... I've learned a ton about the world, about myself, about others and about "love" during the late summer of my belated youth...
About death, I believe our bodies die. But we continue.
Francesca is married, lives in Long Valley, New Jersey (a region I explored in 1988 as a Kirby Vacuum Salesman towards the end of our tragic relationship that erased itself as oceans erase sandbars and salt deposits...) She has 3 children.
Who knows? Maybe I'll return to this blog.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Helping hand from a friend?
Anguish, Angst, suffering... It's extremely personal. Why people talk to others about their "problems", concerns... Maybe there is someone out there who can respond in a way most desired by the person "talking". Why share? But we do. And then it seems that we don't like what the other person says. Silence causes vast misunderstandings. There are so many levels of perspective... philosophies. One can respond crassly, sarcastically, cynically. If I am suicidal, probably the most logical response is, "Ross, why talk? why complain? Kill yourself..." And that person would be correct. A few years ago José Montaña presented me to a friend of his who was depressed and had a drug problem... He had that problem when his parents were alive and had the problem when his parents left him the WILL at death... So now he is a semi-young adult depressed drug-addict with money... José told me the story while I stood infront of the friend and asked me what I suggested... He told me the guy's history and his astrology. And I said frankly, "Look, the money pays for the drugs... It's convenient. If he wants to destroy himself, he has the money and the drugs. But don't talk to me about helping him feel better. Because he doesn't want that. The feeling bad justifies the drug usage... It's slow or semi-quick suicide. So, if that's what he wants, then that's what I want for him... that he kill himself. But don't ask me for helpful suggestions."
I don't know how to play chess, although my uncle had bought me an incredible hand sculpted chess set... To this day I have little interest. I've never bought a television in my life... However I do love reading. I've never tried selling my art and don't have those contacts within that unexistent circle of friends... There are 100s of thousands of artists competing for the big buyers in this world... Should I try and sell my paintings... should I waste the time and money for the usual? I'm not a flashy and popular party type of modern person... You know that a big part of selling your art is selling yourself... If I had an exhibition, I wouldn't be able to fill the opening with my friends. I don't play the game... But I continue painting and thinking... WHO KNOWS? But you can't resolve this problem, can you?
It's a shit. That's what it is Billie...
When you asked me for the friendship, the first thing I noticed on your profile is something to the tone that you were very spiritual. I thought that was good enough. Why do we reach out to others? It's a strange "crap shoot"... "Who knows? Maybe we will connect in ways that will help us profoundly..." But then basically nothing happens. You live with your daughter. I consider that very fortunate. If Margarita dies, I will be here with no one... and possibly nothing... in a country with a social culture of friendships, culture, intellectualism, creativity, spirituality (or the lack there of..) that I despise. But I left the U.S. almost 10 years ago. It was probably the best thing I could have done for myself in my life. But at a heavy cost of only having Margarita and myself... But, if she dies before I die, I won't have a son or a daughter to fall back upon and I don't have a family in the U.S. for falling upon... Decisions. Concerns. Worries... Realities... Difficult realities.
What I have is my faith. And, yes, faith is a delicate fantasy basically dependent upon positive experience and positive moments. But when you see all black or gray or everything is muddy? What happens to that wonderful faith?
What do you want to hear from me Billie? You know I'm sincere. Maybe you believe I understand and that's why you share with me...
Why not write? Why not write about the Earth Cracking and your skin cracking and your mind cracking... Maybe you could find humor in your personal experience... this is not sarcasm... It could be relief. You can go very far with it... You can be perverted... "We've entered into the second epic drought... Two months and not one drop of rain falling from the sky... The earth is cracking, my mind is cracking... I feel a tremor. For a moment, I thought the earth was quaking as I noticed a bigger ravine infront of my the front door. But, then I remembered that that ravine was there last week too... My eyes burn from the heat. I thought that maybe just possibly I was crying... I lifted my hand to my eye to touch the tear, and only found salt cakes I offered to my neighbor's horse. But the horse refused my offering... Or maybe it was just too late. The horse was dead. It had dry roasted, but was still standing... until I patted it on one of its flanks and it just crumbled like a sand castle... I wonder, 'am I dry roasting?' I would open up my veins and flee this convection oven. But I worry about what I would find upon opening those veins... what if they've become dry river beds? I wonder, maybe the following not earth tremor will bring me to that horse's fate when I patted it on it's hind quarters? What if I crumble to the earth too? Sometimes I think about relaxing with my hand and my penis... But my salivary glands have dried and I worry that my testicals have dried up like prunes and my penis has wilted and will drop with the slightest caress... Yes, that's what a good drought can do for you my friend... it can make you morbosely creative and prolific. Or it can just make you desperately cynical, frustrated and easily offended by someone who can't truly help you:-)
I guess...
Anguish, Angst, suffering... It's extremely personal. Why people talk to others about their "problems", concerns... Maybe there is someone out there who can respond in a way most desired by the person "talking". Why share? But we do. And then it seems that we don't like what the other person says. Silence causes vast misunderstandings. There are so many levels of perspective... philosophies. One can respond crassly, sarcastically, cynically. If I am suicidal, probably the most logical response is, "Ross, why talk? why complain? Kill yourself..." And that person would be correct. A few years ago José Montaña presented me to a friend of his who was depressed and had a drug problem... He had that problem when his parents were alive and had the problem when his parents left him the WILL at death... So now he is a semi-young adult depressed drug-addict with money... José told me the story while I stood infront of the friend and asked me what I suggested... He told me the guy's history and his astrology. And I said frankly, "Look, the money pays for the drugs... It's convenient. If he wants to destroy himself, he has the money and the drugs. But don't talk to me about helping him feel better. Because he doesn't want that. The feeling bad justifies the drug usage... It's slow or semi-quick suicide. So, if that's what he wants, then that's what I want for him... that he kill himself. But don't ask me for helpful suggestions."
I don't know how to play chess, although my uncle had bought me an incredible hand sculpted chess set... To this day I have little interest. I've never bought a television in my life... However I do love reading. I've never tried selling my art and don't have those contacts within that unexistent circle of friends... There are 100s of thousands of artists competing for the big buyers in this world... Should I try and sell my paintings... should I waste the time and money for the usual? I'm not a flashy and popular party type of modern person... You know that a big part of selling your art is selling yourself... If I had an exhibition, I wouldn't be able to fill the opening with my friends. I don't play the game... But I continue painting and thinking... WHO KNOWS? But you can't resolve this problem, can you?
It's a shit. That's what it is Billie...
When you asked me for the friendship, the first thing I noticed on your profile is something to the tone that you were very spiritual. I thought that was good enough. Why do we reach out to others? It's a strange "crap shoot"... "Who knows? Maybe we will connect in ways that will help us profoundly..." But then basically nothing happens. You live with your daughter. I consider that very fortunate. If Margarita dies, I will be here with no one... and possibly nothing... in a country with a social culture of friendships, culture, intellectualism, creativity, spirituality (or the lack there of..) that I despise. But I left the U.S. almost 10 years ago. It was probably the best thing I could have done for myself in my life. But at a heavy cost of only having Margarita and myself... But, if she dies before I die, I won't have a son or a daughter to fall back upon and I don't have a family in the U.S. for falling upon... Decisions. Concerns. Worries... Realities... Difficult realities.
What I have is my faith. And, yes, faith is a delicate fantasy basically dependent upon positive experience and positive moments. But when you see all black or gray or everything is muddy? What happens to that wonderful faith?
What do you want to hear from me Billie? You know I'm sincere. Maybe you believe I understand and that's why you share with me...
Why not write? Why not write about the Earth Cracking and your skin cracking and your mind cracking... Maybe you could find humor in your personal experience... this is not sarcasm... It could be relief. You can go very far with it... You can be perverted... "We've entered into the second epic drought... Two months and not one drop of rain falling from the sky... The earth is cracking, my mind is cracking... I feel a tremor. For a moment, I thought the earth was quaking as I noticed a bigger ravine infront of my the front door. But, then I remembered that that ravine was there last week too... My eyes burn from the heat. I thought that maybe just possibly I was crying... I lifted my hand to my eye to touch the tear, and only found salt cakes I offered to my neighbor's horse. But the horse refused my offering... Or maybe it was just too late. The horse was dead. It had dry roasted, but was still standing... until I patted it on one of its flanks and it just crumbled like a sand castle... I wonder, 'am I dry roasting?' I would open up my veins and flee this convection oven. But I worry about what I would find upon opening those veins... what if they've become dry river beds? I wonder, maybe the following not earth tremor will bring me to that horse's fate when I patted it on it's hind quarters? What if I crumble to the earth too? Sometimes I think about relaxing with my hand and my penis... But my salivary glands have dried and I worry that my testicals have dried up like prunes and my penis has wilted and will drop with the slightest caress... Yes, that's what a good drought can do for you my friend... it can make you morbosely creative and prolific. Or it can just make you desperately cynical, frustrated and easily offended by someone who can't truly help you:-)
I guess...
Friday, May 18, 2012
"Rape of the World; Rape of Children" Mixing Mental Illness and Environmental Activism...
Hi M. I've made it through to the
middle. It's horrible whatever it was that was happening in this man's
household when he was a child. However... I feel that the two
actions (sexual abuse or explotation of children and the destruction of the ecosystems)
are issues that do not cross or interconnect and should not be joined within
one essay:
"One of the worst aspects of both childhood sexual and ecocidal abuse is the extent to which talking about these pervasive and perverse ills are taboo. There are other similarities. Both desecrate what is good, loving, truthful, and required for continued human and natural life by dirty, ugly, vulgar, and deathly power. There is of course the penetration - the perverse, evil desire by some to place their drill in warm and wet crevasses to extract energy while destroying the energy source.
Logging primary forests is very similar to raping children both in moral terror and lasting horrific consequences - the difference is largely only one of scale. The rhythmic pounding of the chainsaw into ancient forests reminds me of being raped. The same impulses that lead us to unquestionably destroy 60 million year old ecosystems for lawn furniture are on display as children are treated like flotsam, indeed trafficked as a commodity, for momentary ejaculatory self-gratification."
There is absolutely no logic in this. It is horribly artificially manipulative. Sexual abuse is very private and personal. It is part of a microcosm of the society. It exists for the most part on an individual basis be it between the victim and the abuser or within a family. It is from the inside further inward. The destruction of ecosystems is part of the macrocosm of society. It is impersonal, just as genocide and war is impersonal. Yes, if you find yourself in Baghdad with millions of tons of bombs falling on your head, it is personal. However the act is impersonal. The destruction of the ecosystems affect us all. But it is impersonal for most people since the effects are gradual (although the shock isn't gradual when you suddenly find yourself crossing clearcutting on the Olympic Peninsula), sufficiently gradual for most people to ignore the issue and say that "tomorrow..." But back to the macrocosm. Destruction of the ecosystems has it's base within political permissions and the desire of many people for extended economic growth. It is based upon markets that create the illusion for many people that they have increased personal comfort, increased quality of life. As you know, most of animal life (including humans) lives within a food chain reality of being preyed upon or being the preditor. And "no one" within this system falls within victim or ill-doer (for lack of a better word) status... I believe that the human problem is that humans have an "intelligence quotient" too high (a potential) that also causes them to be too aware of their fears. They too are prey and vulnerable. But they decided to invent the word "victim" and try and run away from that risk, be it victim to a black bear or be it victim of microscopic organisms or not so microscopic organisms in a tropical zone or victim of what humans call "natural disasters"... In order to remove themself from risk, they remove forrests and jungles and all possible predators that scare them... The issue must be addressed on a socio-psychological, spiritual level. But to infantilize forrests placing them on the same plane as children... Well that is obsurd and doesn't help the issue..., not one or the other... It's just manipulative. And I would love to think that the ecological activists are clear thinking intelligent people who understand what the true issue is... But, this writing just offers the others the idea that the writer is mentally ill, creating risk that they will consider those manipulated by the peice (environmental activists) mentally ill also...
"One of the worst aspects of both childhood sexual and ecocidal abuse is the extent to which talking about these pervasive and perverse ills are taboo. There are other similarities. Both desecrate what is good, loving, truthful, and required for continued human and natural life by dirty, ugly, vulgar, and deathly power. There is of course the penetration - the perverse, evil desire by some to place their drill in warm and wet crevasses to extract energy while destroying the energy source.
Logging primary forests is very similar to raping children both in moral terror and lasting horrific consequences - the difference is largely only one of scale. The rhythmic pounding of the chainsaw into ancient forests reminds me of being raped. The same impulses that lead us to unquestionably destroy 60 million year old ecosystems for lawn furniture are on display as children are treated like flotsam, indeed trafficked as a commodity, for momentary ejaculatory self-gratification."
There is absolutely no logic in this. It is horribly artificially manipulative. Sexual abuse is very private and personal. It is part of a microcosm of the society. It exists for the most part on an individual basis be it between the victim and the abuser or within a family. It is from the inside further inward. The destruction of ecosystems is part of the macrocosm of society. It is impersonal, just as genocide and war is impersonal. Yes, if you find yourself in Baghdad with millions of tons of bombs falling on your head, it is personal. However the act is impersonal. The destruction of the ecosystems affect us all. But it is impersonal for most people since the effects are gradual (although the shock isn't gradual when you suddenly find yourself crossing clearcutting on the Olympic Peninsula), sufficiently gradual for most people to ignore the issue and say that "tomorrow..." But back to the macrocosm. Destruction of the ecosystems has it's base within political permissions and the desire of many people for extended economic growth. It is based upon markets that create the illusion for many people that they have increased personal comfort, increased quality of life. As you know, most of animal life (including humans) lives within a food chain reality of being preyed upon or being the preditor. And "no one" within this system falls within victim or ill-doer (for lack of a better word) status... I believe that the human problem is that humans have an "intelligence quotient" too high (a potential) that also causes them to be too aware of their fears. They too are prey and vulnerable. But they decided to invent the word "victim" and try and run away from that risk, be it victim to a black bear or be it victim of microscopic organisms or not so microscopic organisms in a tropical zone or victim of what humans call "natural disasters"... In order to remove themself from risk, they remove forrests and jungles and all possible predators that scare them... The issue must be addressed on a socio-psychological, spiritual level. But to infantilize forrests placing them on the same plane as children... Well that is obsurd and doesn't help the issue..., not one or the other... It's just manipulative. And I would love to think that the ecological activists are clear thinking intelligent people who understand what the true issue is... But, this writing just offers the others the idea that the writer is mentally ill, creating risk that they will consider those manipulated by the peice (environmental activists) mentally ill also...
All political movements and governments use words manipulatively in
their propaganda and try and change the language so that the people move in the
ways they wish. The reason why I left the environmental movement and the
animal rights movement along with others is because it became clear that no one
truly wanted to act honestly and most of the movements became manipulative with
the same style of language and propaganda that is used by their
"enemy"... It's a viciously repetative cycle.
You attack the issue with truth. You explain what happens when the
various ecosystems are destroyed and how it affects everyone. You try to
influence legislation to create new laws and to enforce those laws. You
try and educate people, especially the children, for connecting with the natural
world, for participating within it, so that they wouldn't wish for the destruction
of the ecosystems. But you don't write sick things like
"Earth is routinely ripped open with over-eager, hammy hands, reaching between her legs for treasures that should remain buried. "
No, you didn't write this. But the essay doesn't help.
"Earth is routinely ripped open with over-eager, hammy hands, reaching between her legs for treasures that should remain buried. "
No, you didn't write this. But the essay doesn't help.
We are 7 billion people on this planet M. When you and I
were ten-years-old, we were 4 billion people. 30 years and the world
population has almost doubled. Who is creating anti-population movements?
Who is saying, "restrict yourself to just one child or think about
not having children?" No one wants that realistic and logical form
of restricting basic human actions... Can you march on the capitals of
most countries and say, "limit the amount of lifestock raised for food
consumption!" How many people will enter those movements? But
not as animal rights activists...
M., when you distract people with emotionally manipulative
propaganda (although for a good cause), you make it that much more difficult
for them and others to see the issue directly and to encounter logical
responses and solutions... The problem is that it seems that, due to
egoism, very few people truly live for creating healthy, logical solutions and
for living within the truth.
And in the end you find the world and the human race immersed in the
same problem. But, as I said, we are 7 billion humans on this planet.
How many of those humans are ecological activists? How many of them
earn above the necessary amount for maintaining a healthy family?
Although this ultimate class of humans earning above the necessary
amount... is much smaller than the class of humans below the poverty line or on
the edge, you will find that they are so many more than the amount of
ecological activists existent on this planet. You and your wife (especially
your wife), grew up within this privilege. The necessities of these families
and individuals for maintaining or increasing their quality of life and the
necessity of those living on the brink (called "at risk") to be able
to have what you and your wife had growing up or have now, makes it almost
impossible that an intelligent, calm, honest and logical ecological activist
movement will work... That's not to say, "let the destruction
continue". It's to say, put things into perspective my friend and try not
to be manipulative and try to iron out exagerations and dishonesty within the
movement...
Just as the forrests don't "love", nor do
the animals "love", they also don't participate within political
social movements or clubs created for maintaining themselves and the human need
for feeling important and powerful... When the predator appears, the prey
(following its "instinct" for self preservation), runs and tries to
escape. But when the prey finds itself in the jowls of the predator, the
prey accepts its destiny and dies. And continues participating within
the nurturance of the ecosystem. When we die, we too continue within the
nurturance of the ecosystem. There is no love in that. It just is...
We are omnivores. We don't have to eat meat every day or every week
or every month... But saying "love animals, don't eat them" is
besides the point. We are intelligent animals. Highly intelligent
animals. However, it seems that we are horribly lazy to truly use that
intelligence and act healthfully upon that intelligence... Or we can
decide (lazily) to continue reproducing the same vicious cycle and watch the
human population increase and watch the wars destroy a small percentage of that
human population and a great percentage of the ecosystem and continue towards
our destructive, unhealthy destiny.
Continued:
Continued:
I don't believe it's so much passion as a troubled
man's desire to release the horrible tension he has within due to an experience
he was powerless to control and is almost powerless to remedy... trying to
connect it to something possitive. I imagine (from personal experience)
the traumatized person who decides upon addressing directly the trauma becomes
an activist within their own life, automatically causing within them an
activist intensity (you call passion)... But, I would be careful against
confusion desesperation with passion. Desesperation to feel oneself in
control of their life and their health (mental health and then physical
health)... Desesperation to feel on top of something (an ecological
movement). Desesperation to feel normal and acceptable... Imagine
being sodomized as a child, especially by a familiar person who is protected by
the people who should be protecting you... It's "unfair" that
human sickness (that perpetrated against the child) should be thrown upon the
non-human world in the name of "love", "loving" or
caring... Who wants to consider themself abnormal? And what a shame
that humans tend to blame the "victim" (the child) for the illness
created by the behavior of sick and careless adults. But those who did
not experience within their childhoods those styles of trauma and who have the
clearness of mind to be able to focus better upon placing things into
perspective should be able separate the illness from the unrelated issue...
otherwise, not to equate destroying the various eco-systems with the rape of
children. They are two totally unrelated issues that combined confuse the
true issue at hand, which is environmental activism...
Is this letter meant to put "passion" in
the environmental movement where passion didn't exist? If so, then the
environmental activists don't have enough conviction based upon real
information and must manipulate people for moving with unrelated information
which in the end is dishonest. Is this letter meant for moving
environmentalist into a movement against child abuse? I highly doubt
it...
The Complete text:
EARTH MEANDERS
Raping Kids and Earth
What kind of sickos destroy children and ecosystems? Well actually, a surprising number do. Most are against both types of victimization of innocence and purity - as long as you don't talk or do anything about it when it happens.
May 13, 2012
By Dr. Glen Barry
Earth is so beautiful, so perfect in its intimate interconnectivity, as are humans in their ability to create and transcend, to pass down knowledge, love, and ecological habitat to our children. Yet we know -especially direct victims of childhood rape and ecocide - that Earth and her humanity are filled with a dark, narcissistic self- destructiveness as well.
Two of the very worst evils stalking the land are those who sexually abuse children, and those who wage ecocide upon ecosystems. In fact, they are two sides of the same coin. This is going to be a deeply revealing and challenging essay. If you don't think freely with an open mind; and are, well, dumb and insensitive, you may not want to try.
Earth and childhood innocence are two of the most profoundly truthful things ever. Yet humanity's increasingly predatory nature threatens both. The urge to penetrate and destroy the souls of old forests and young children are a grotesque perversion, illustrating the evil that exists - within depraved soulless modernity - cut off from community, nature, and knowledge of right-living.
One of the worst aspects of both childhood sexual and ecocidal abuse is the extent to which talking about these pervasive and perverse ills are taboo. There are other similarities. Both desecrate what is good, loving, truthful, and required for continued human and natural life by dirty, ugly, vulgar, and deathly power. There is of course the penetration - the perverse, evil desire by some to place their drill in warm and wet crevasses to extract energy while destroying the energy source.
Logging primary forests is very similar to raping children both in moral terror and lasting horrific consequences - the difference is largely only one of scale. The rhythmic pounding of the chainsaw into ancient forests reminds me of being raped. The same impulses that lead us to unquestionably destroy 60 million year old ecosystems for lawn furniture are on display as children are treated like flotsam, indeed trafficked as a commodity, for momentary ejaculatory self-gratification.
I was terribly sexually abused as a child, and have only recently emerged - damaged but mostly recovered - from the acts, the cover-up, and the continued demands by perpetrators and their protectors for silence. Being sodomized and forced to participate in sex acts by an Uncle were horrific enough. But even more detrimental, hurtful, and damaging to my development as a fully actualized human-being was an entire childhood growing up in an environment where my father was routinely sexually abusing a sibling, and where sexual abuse was
epidemic in the extended family.
Growing up in a home rife with sexual energy directed at children is devastating, the degree of which was only fully revealed to me as an adult. I look back and realize how these criminal acts - sexual abuse, titillating sexual contact, man boy sex, and a massive cover-up blaming the victims - change your whole way of viewing the world. I am now clear - during what was otherwise a decent upbringing - I and others around me were dramatically and permanently impacted upon by the sexual crimes and cover-ups as family roles, boundaries, and sexual morals didn't exist. Speaking openly on such matters helps me with my mostly completed yet always tenuous recovery.
I was also born onto a dying planet, where ecocidal and wide ranging human psychosis - destroying all that is natural, good, truthful and life-affirming - is hailed as advancement and development. The personal victimization I experienced occurs daily on a local, regional and global scale as ecosystems that provide for our water, air, food and culture are brutally pillaged - along with all their bounteous life -without regard to anything but the lust for profit. As a trained ecologist, I am privy to Earth's historic rape in every tarnished ecosystem I see, as I bear witness to Gaia's and our death.
Earth is routinely ripped open with over-eager, hammy hands, reaching between her legs for treasures that should remain buried. Old forests are not meant to be logged for toilet paper, nor are gas and oil to be ripped from deep within Gaia's body to poison the air life breathes. Humanity's long-time rape of the natural world is killing Earth and will result in all life's final demise unless the ecocidal rapists are stopped - using all means necessary.
The next frontiers in civil rights and natural law are allowing nature, animals, and ecosystems to exist without threat of ecocide, and stopping the rape of our children. Some things need to end because they are objectively wrong and against continued truthful and sacred existence. Much of the abuse and harm we do to others is the result of abuse done to us, and everyone needs to break the cycle. Healthy children and ecosystems are needed simply for Earth and civilization - such as it is - to survive, much less continue to advance and thrive.
I am not looking for pity or making excuses, I just want it to stop - the silence, the lies, and the protecting of family reputations over justice for the abused, and the shame being redirected and falling upon the abusers. The belief that I could not, must not tell - that I was voiceless as I remained a silent victim in both regards - was deeply engrained as I and others are groomed to be sexual playthings of the powerful adults we love on a dying Earth.
Those concerned with children and ecology - whether victims yourself or not - must turn the focus back upon the perpetrators, and stop being victims of crimes that were no fault of your own. The shame belongs squarely upon the perps, and this will only happen when we talk of the evils of penetrating children and ecosystems. Abusive destruction of childhood innocence and life-giving ecosystems must be stopped - again - using all means necessary.
I really have little patience or desire to hear from people the same banalities of "get over it", "forgive", "move on". Anyone who as a child had their trust ripped away as they were raped and sodomized by those that said they loved them knows the permanent damage it causes, and I will not be silenced. I hope forgiveness comes, but not until responsibility is taken by the guilty, and the victimization ends.
It is not all right to rape and sexually arouse children, and I'm not going away, and holding my silence to protect the perpetrators any longer. I am not going away or stopping talking about the rape of Earth and children because it may make you feel uncomfortable talking about it.
About a year ago - after years of being rebuffed, put down, estranged from, and shamed by family members for asking what they knew about my abuse - I informed my small family that I would no longer remain silent about being raped and dealing with consequences of other family members around me being raped.
No longer would I be the victim, living in quivering shamed silence, because my uncle forced me into group sex with an aunt when I was five. Or stop trying to understand my memories of being sodomized with objects by the same uncle, and fondled and sexually aroused by just about any relative that wanted to cop a feel.
I would speak honestly of what it meant to grow up in a household where sexual abuse was routine, about how it changed all the family dynamics, led to over-compensation to get attention, and caused me other lasting developmental harm that I still struggle to overcome. And that I would continue to seek out information regarding who had done this to others and me, who knew - and were and are protecting the perpetrators - and why upon coming forth I am subjected to a whole new round of abusive victimization.
One family member in particular - my brother-in-law - feels justified in routinely threatening me if I speak publicly about having been sexually abused as a child, how it ran rampant in my family, or refuse to keep family secrets. Apparently as a victim of childhood rape, I do not own my body, my history, or my voice. Anyone thinking I will be silenced on these matters is deeply misled. Nor will I allow myself to be damaged by the victimization foisted upon me by other less grounded in the Earth and connected to the humanity of its most small, weak and hope-filled people.
The message of this essay is to call upon each of us to protect what is sacred and good in the next generation and their ecological habitat. It is these sorts of abuse - that we expect others to bear, unsupported, in silence and shame - that cause so much of Earth's ills. Childhood and ecocidal abuse must be spoken of until there is justice and resolution, until they are ended for a more just, fair, and sustainable world.
Raping Kids and Earth
What kind of sickos destroy children and ecosystems? Well actually, a surprising number do. Most are against both types of victimization of innocence and purity - as long as you don't talk or do anything about it when it happens.
May 13, 2012
By Dr. Glen Barry
Earth is so beautiful, so perfect in its intimate interconnectivity, as are humans in their ability to create and transcend, to pass down knowledge, love, and ecological habitat to our children. Yet we know -especially direct victims of childhood rape and ecocide - that Earth and her humanity are filled with a dark, narcissistic self- destructiveness as well.
Two of the very worst evils stalking the land are those who sexually abuse children, and those who wage ecocide upon ecosystems. In fact, they are two sides of the same coin. This is going to be a deeply revealing and challenging essay. If you don't think freely with an open mind; and are, well, dumb and insensitive, you may not want to try.
Earth and childhood innocence are two of the most profoundly truthful things ever. Yet humanity's increasingly predatory nature threatens both. The urge to penetrate and destroy the souls of old forests and young children are a grotesque perversion, illustrating the evil that exists - within depraved soulless modernity - cut off from community, nature, and knowledge of right-living.
One of the worst aspects of both childhood sexual and ecocidal abuse is the extent to which talking about these pervasive and perverse ills are taboo. There are other similarities. Both desecrate what is good, loving, truthful, and required for continued human and natural life by dirty, ugly, vulgar, and deathly power. There is of course the penetration - the perverse, evil desire by some to place their drill in warm and wet crevasses to extract energy while destroying the energy source.
Logging primary forests is very similar to raping children both in moral terror and lasting horrific consequences - the difference is largely only one of scale. The rhythmic pounding of the chainsaw into ancient forests reminds me of being raped. The same impulses that lead us to unquestionably destroy 60 million year old ecosystems for lawn furniture are on display as children are treated like flotsam, indeed trafficked as a commodity, for momentary ejaculatory self-gratification.
I was terribly sexually abused as a child, and have only recently emerged - damaged but mostly recovered - from the acts, the cover-up, and the continued demands by perpetrators and their protectors for silence. Being sodomized and forced to participate in sex acts by an Uncle were horrific enough. But even more detrimental, hurtful, and damaging to my development as a fully actualized human-being was an entire childhood growing up in an environment where my father was routinely sexually abusing a sibling, and where sexual abuse was
epidemic in the extended family.
Growing up in a home rife with sexual energy directed at children is devastating, the degree of which was only fully revealed to me as an adult. I look back and realize how these criminal acts - sexual abuse, titillating sexual contact, man boy sex, and a massive cover-up blaming the victims - change your whole way of viewing the world. I am now clear - during what was otherwise a decent upbringing - I and others around me were dramatically and permanently impacted upon by the sexual crimes and cover-ups as family roles, boundaries, and sexual morals didn't exist. Speaking openly on such matters helps me with my mostly completed yet always tenuous recovery.
I was also born onto a dying planet, where ecocidal and wide ranging human psychosis - destroying all that is natural, good, truthful and life-affirming - is hailed as advancement and development. The personal victimization I experienced occurs daily on a local, regional and global scale as ecosystems that provide for our water, air, food and culture are brutally pillaged - along with all their bounteous life -without regard to anything but the lust for profit. As a trained ecologist, I am privy to Earth's historic rape in every tarnished ecosystem I see, as I bear witness to Gaia's and our death.
Earth is routinely ripped open with over-eager, hammy hands, reaching between her legs for treasures that should remain buried. Old forests are not meant to be logged for toilet paper, nor are gas and oil to be ripped from deep within Gaia's body to poison the air life breathes. Humanity's long-time rape of the natural world is killing Earth and will result in all life's final demise unless the ecocidal rapists are stopped - using all means necessary.
The next frontiers in civil rights and natural law are allowing nature, animals, and ecosystems to exist without threat of ecocide, and stopping the rape of our children. Some things need to end because they are objectively wrong and against continued truthful and sacred existence. Much of the abuse and harm we do to others is the result of abuse done to us, and everyone needs to break the cycle. Healthy children and ecosystems are needed simply for Earth and civilization - such as it is - to survive, much less continue to advance and thrive.
I am not looking for pity or making excuses, I just want it to stop - the silence, the lies, and the protecting of family reputations over justice for the abused, and the shame being redirected and falling upon the abusers. The belief that I could not, must not tell - that I was voiceless as I remained a silent victim in both regards - was deeply engrained as I and others are groomed to be sexual playthings of the powerful adults we love on a dying Earth.
Those concerned with children and ecology - whether victims yourself or not - must turn the focus back upon the perpetrators, and stop being victims of crimes that were no fault of your own. The shame belongs squarely upon the perps, and this will only happen when we talk of the evils of penetrating children and ecosystems. Abusive destruction of childhood innocence and life-giving ecosystems must be stopped - again - using all means necessary.
I really have little patience or desire to hear from people the same banalities of "get over it", "forgive", "move on". Anyone who as a child had their trust ripped away as they were raped and sodomized by those that said they loved them knows the permanent damage it causes, and I will not be silenced. I hope forgiveness comes, but not until responsibility is taken by the guilty, and the victimization ends.
It is not all right to rape and sexually arouse children, and I'm not going away, and holding my silence to protect the perpetrators any longer. I am not going away or stopping talking about the rape of Earth and children because it may make you feel uncomfortable talking about it.
About a year ago - after years of being rebuffed, put down, estranged from, and shamed by family members for asking what they knew about my abuse - I informed my small family that I would no longer remain silent about being raped and dealing with consequences of other family members around me being raped.
No longer would I be the victim, living in quivering shamed silence, because my uncle forced me into group sex with an aunt when I was five. Or stop trying to understand my memories of being sodomized with objects by the same uncle, and fondled and sexually aroused by just about any relative that wanted to cop a feel.
I would speak honestly of what it meant to grow up in a household where sexual abuse was routine, about how it changed all the family dynamics, led to over-compensation to get attention, and caused me other lasting developmental harm that I still struggle to overcome. And that I would continue to seek out information regarding who had done this to others and me, who knew - and were and are protecting the perpetrators - and why upon coming forth I am subjected to a whole new round of abusive victimization.
One family member in particular - my brother-in-law - feels justified in routinely threatening me if I speak publicly about having been sexually abused as a child, how it ran rampant in my family, or refuse to keep family secrets. Apparently as a victim of childhood rape, I do not own my body, my history, or my voice. Anyone thinking I will be silenced on these matters is deeply misled. Nor will I allow myself to be damaged by the victimization foisted upon me by other less grounded in the Earth and connected to the humanity of its most small, weak and hope-filled people.
The message of this essay is to call upon each of us to protect what is sacred and good in the next generation and their ecological habitat. It is these sorts of abuse - that we expect others to bear, unsupported, in silence and shame - that cause so much of Earth's ills. Childhood and ecocidal abuse must be spoken of until there is justice and resolution, until they are ended for a more just, fair, and sustainable world.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Materialism, Spirit, Eternity, Overpopulation, Human Suffering, Destruction of the Planet or Earth Cleansing itself...
I have this conflict M... and I believe it is increasing. And the conflict is that I believe that the world's destiny and human destiny (interconnected) is towards destruction... That said, I believe that those who are developing consciousness within this lifetime (some would call it enlightenment, spirituality, conscientiousness) must learn that their route is towards educating others in a form of exceptance and spiritual faith that we transcend this physical body, earthly body (referring to the planet) and this lifetime and that we are eternal and not truly material beings. I believe that instead of giving us the justification that we can abuse and exploit since we are infinite or eternal, making the body and the planet disposable, it should enable us to relax and not be obsessive about obtaining all we can obtain within this lifetime... I take responsibility for my following words and that no one planted them in my mind:
For some reason or another we must have our own personal and probably difficult experiences; some or many people with experiences much more difficult than others... I believe that the planet as an organism must cleanse itself. But that means that it must remove an excess of human lives... I also believe, for the history and the lesson of the human race, many people must perform acts that harm others (considered innocent) and the planet (which is our umbilical chord, uterus and embrionic fluid)... We all have our own personal destinies within this lifetime. Although personal, those destinies are interconnected with those of others... The rapist, the exploiter, the mutilator is participating "innocently" in the destiny of others or of all... We must try and understand and try and learn from the experience and try and accept. It's difficult. I also believe that many people were born on this planet as wheels in the machine or bricks in the wall and a select "few" were born on this planet for learning how to fly or for teaching others how to fly... how to breath and tranquility for flying from this lifetime into other dimentions and into other lifetimes... There are "too many" "souls" on this planet... Better phrased; There are too many human bodies on this planet... But, it is much easier to "manufacture" bodies than it is to "manufacture" souls. So, I believe that, as the human population increases we find an increase of bodies born onto this planet lacking "souls"... As my friend Jenny says, who is studying bhuddism... "the bhuddists within meditation sought every cell of their bodies and didn't encounter the soul or the spirit... They concluded that we are a mind and not a spirit..."(paraphrased). That said, the person born without a "spirit" or a "soul" is actually a person born without the potential of conscientiousness or consciousness... But how do you determine who was born with or without? You don't. And maybe it's not true that they are born without but born INTO a situation within which they intentionally aren't given access to the tools for developing conscientiousness, which brings us back to destiny. It's possible that the person who was born into the route of abject materialism (narcisism/hedonism) suddenly changes direction and develops consciousness. Through that person's personal experience there is a greater opportunity for others learning intensely. But the majority of those born within this destiny lacking conscientiousness etc. will die without evolution away from materialism into spiritualism (my belief that we are more importantly spirit than we are a physical body)...
I truthfully believe that our work is to bring others into other dimensions away from the material/physical Earth reality. I also believe that the Earth must cleanse itself and we must be ready for the repercussions of that cleansing, meaning that you must prepare your people to fly and accept drastic change and new situations (we don't die. We float and we leave this body behind; the physical body is an illusion necessary for focussing within this lifework. If you know that you continue and that you don't truly die, then maybe you don't learn within this lifetime and you just await the following "world"; hoping that it is a better life. But that's not the point. You do the best you can here and you prepare for the continuation and you don't make this lifetime disposable, otherwise you wouldn't have learned and evolved...)
But that does not mean that we aren't participating within the destruction of the human "race" and the Earth. But, as I keep saying, I believe the Earth must cleanse itself, meaning that we will see an increasing rate of natural "disasters". But they aren't disasters. They are recuperations... If you and your people survive these events on this planet or if you fly to the following dimention or lifetime... it's all the same. But you must be conscious and conscientious... here or there. It's part of your destiny and it's how you nourish others:-)
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Thoughts in Spanish "Los hombres son perros..."
Los hombres son perros y mean a su territorio, sobre sus mujers... Los hombres son perros... ven y olfatean el territorio del otro y quieren meterse con ella... Los hombres son perros y mean a su territorio y quieren tomar más territorio, aunque tienen sufficiente... ¿que hacemos con está ironia que los hombres son humanos y perros a la vez?
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Mole Poblano 15 years Later
Back in June I wrote a few pieces about my Hampshire College girlfriend who brought me to New York City introduced me to wonderful Mexican food and Mexican beer and who was the first person who mentioned having lived in Mexico, although for only a few months... Back in 1996, when we frist lived together in Astoria Queens, I bought her a wonderful cookbook A Cook's Tour of Mexico, since she loved Mexican Cuisine. During those 1.5 years we lived together in New York City, she never opened the cookbook. But I prepared Mole Oaxaqueño or Black Mole. It took me 12 hours to prepare and was a horribly arduous affair. However, it remains the best mole I have ever eaten in my life, even living here in Mexico 9 years. Nevertheless I never returned to the recipe. In fact, when Randi and I broke up, A Cook's Tour of Mexico went with her. I bought the cookbook one more time. But, as I wrote in "The 3 Messengers", I mailed the cookbook to Bürcu in Turkey before leaving for Mexico, since I was seeking recipes in that cookbook to cook with her when the idea of moving to Mexico and not with her to Turkey entered my mind... This past November, while buying tiles for tiling our new kitchen, we noticed a wonderful tiled kitchen book in the tile store, Mexicocinas, and asked the owner where she bought the book, which is in English. She directed us to a giant English language bookstore in a predominantly "American" colony of Guadalajara. While there, I asked the young woman if she could locate A Cook's Tour of Mexico. She informed me that it was out of print but she could locate it used and order it from the U.S. A month later I had the book for the 3rd time in my life. Before leaving for Margarita's family's ranch in Veracruz, I decided upon preparing Mole Poblano (which I have not eaten here in Mexico and to which Randi introduced me in 1996) and the Mole Oaxaqueño I prepared in Astoria Queens 15-years-ago. Yesterday we entered the endeavor and, truthfully I don't know if I want to prepare Mole again in my life. It's just too much grinding work...
On another note, these days I find myself re-reading pieces I wrote that are being read presently by people who know me... Yes, the writing is very candid, personal, at times hostile. It's a temporary view into what I thought or felt or believed at the moment. For the most part I don't like my writing. I don't believe that I am a good writer nor will be a good writer. I think some people just "have it" for writing the way people or WE wish to read. Back in June I believed that mixing my experience in Mexico with artwork and my "spiritual journey" would attract people to possibly want the story or the artwork. But, the truth is that the artworld and the entertainment or special interest world is much more complicated than just posting on the internet. Plus, as I've said so many times before, we are so many people on this planet with so few spaces for extreme success. Why me and not so many other talented people? I pass my days trying to maintain in things in perspective. So many people say have said, "Ross, you should publish... Ross you should sell your paintings... Ross you should open a restaurant..." and maybe it's true that what I create is different and is interesting. However, I think that type of success has something to do with a mix of destiny and a mix of socio-politics.. I want to share with you my artwork, my cooking, my experience. But, something tells me that all this is to remain very personal and private due to the design of my life. It's to say that my life was designed in a certain way for a certain purpose... As I have mentioned, I have 5 "planets" in Virgo. I don't have Leo in my astrological chart. Virgo is the virgin or the hermit. Leo demands attention. People can't help but fall in-love with (be attracted towards) Leos (depending greatly upon where Leo falls in the person's astrological chart and what else they have placed in their chart. Like my younger sister Beth, Pisces with Rising Sign in Leo or Scott Capricorn with Moon in Leo. Pisces and Capricorn are dark and closed no-nonsense signs so to speak... But the placement of Leo in those spaces attracts people... Demands attention. By virtue of... this person will "shine"... Anya said that she didn't believe that people change... I believed that people change. I believed that I am an example. But, the question is "what is this change?" I think we are a certain way and we change within those parameters. We react a certain way... we act a certain way within certain situations... when we are tired or stressed or concerned or... We are another way when we are content, relaxed, optimistic etc... Depending upon the situation, depending upon what and how we have learned, we change (better phrased, we evolve). But, I'm almost certain that the way we live is highly programmed within a combination of astrological make-up and the situation of our childhoods; the two factors that formulate our characters... What would it take for me to become a successful artist? I am Gemini with 5 "planets" in Virgo. Gemini is a lover of freedom and doesn't believe in structures-forms, rules, regulations... Gemini is light-hearted. So, Gemini artwork is stream of consciousness, free-flowing, part of a dance. Virgo is in conflict with Gemini, since Virgo is perfectionist, overly rational. Gemini is gregarious and superficially socia (socialization is a game). Virgo is anti-social in a positive sense, to say that they just don't want to be bothered with blah blah blah shallow and superficial conversations. Virgo does not play the game. They can live in a tree for all they care. "Don't bother me. I have better things to do with my time. And all my time I must dedicate towards accomplishing something..." That something is not socio-political. Do I want to live this way? Do I not want to be gregarious, successful? Of course I do. And that is my astrological conflict I must put into perspective. I must accept that the most "fame" I will achieve is through this blog. You can't change the date and time of your birth. You can't change the situation within which you were born. And I continuously ask myself knowing all that can't be changed, "Ross, truthfully what do you expect from people and life if you know that this is the situation within which you were born? Why do you write to these people... Why do you 'publish' this stuff when you know that you won't see these people, when you know that no one will enter you forrest and your cave?" You can't expect from people what they can't give... You can't give what is not for you to give... This is not pessimism. It is a reality. My younger sister Beth had a new boyfriend and she mentioned that she wanted him to meet me. She mentioned that she wanted to visit with us this year. I suggested that we plan on a visit on the Carribean in Playa del Carmen in December. I mentioned that I had a friend who worked at a resort there and that she could help us with the planning. She said that she needed dates and the number of people who would visit. The question was if Beth would be visiting with us with her two daughters... I emailed Beth that Veronica needed the information and Beth repeatedly didn't respond to my email. Who has the problem within this issue? I haven't been in contact with Beth since... and no, she didn't come to Mexico. It's possible that Beth suggested something she didn't truly believe. It's possible that my Virgo/hermit character doesn't have enough force of attraction. Should I be in conflict with Beth? Absolutely not. But I should maintain in perspective our "relationship" and my life/destiny. Everyone has life-themes. I've never thrown a party in my life. I don't seek parties or gatherings. I don't like other peoples' noise. When I was a child, I was considered shy... But, what is shyness? In my 20s I fought against that shyness. But, truthfully I think it's more like, "shy of" what it takes to actually enjoy social environments... "Shy of" what it takes to gain socio-politically... Maybe I was shy because I was born into a situation or a state of being, into a life, where I would spend most of my time with only one other person, but not with two people... it's to say that I am either with myself or I am with you... With you, you are the center of the universe with all my attention. But, I have also learned that I prefer my time with myself. I get tired of the interpersonal relationship; it's draining. So, I return to my books, to my painting, to my kitchen, to my walking and thinking... Can you fault me? The problem is the 20th century middle-class first world nation within which I was born was the century of tele-communications, marketing, services and information technology. It's not a good era for an artistic, intellectual, perfectionist hermit... And if I wanted to be my gregarious Gemini self, I find myself in conflict with my overly Virgo "anti-social" self... Every step forward socially receives 2 strong yanks backwards. One shouldn't fight against their internal truths or their destiny. You are who you are and you must understand those limits and accept them. We waste a lot of energy trying to be who we are not because we don't accept who we truly are. I won't be a superstar. That's just not me. I have done super things. Have overcome incredible obstacles. I have withstood much. I am very intelligent. I am talented in many things. But I am me as I am, as I was born, within what I was born. I can't expect you to understand or appreciate this or me... But, the least I can do is come to terms with the various conflicts and realities... This is personal. If I were to not share with you my personal life, you would not know anything about me because I would not be sharing with you, in contact with you... It's very simple and understandable. I am here and you are there; different universes. We don't see each other. What changes if I don't have facebook or a "Dead Man Walking" blog...? Nothing changes. But, for some reason I thought it important to share with you my photographs on Facebook and to share with you my "stories", experiences, journeys and ideas on Blogger. But, I think it is only an illusory distraction away from my own personal truth and reality.
Margarita and I have a very wonderful and successful relationship. Part of it is because we both have Ascendent in Virgo and she is Pisces, opposite of my Moon in Virgo... She is a "no-nonsense" person, always occupied in some form of work. We share the same space occupied in different projects. The one person respects the other. We both are passionate. But it is a reserved passion that usually comes after each others' work or project. No one expects that the one person should always be attending the other... Neither of us needs entertainment. We are active. But we don't seek social or public activities... We don't have to go out on the town so to speak. I guess for this reason you would find me boring. I'm not a partier, a social butterfly. I'm not a drinker... That doesn't take one far...
On another note, these days I find myself re-reading pieces I wrote that are being read presently by people who know me... Yes, the writing is very candid, personal, at times hostile. It's a temporary view into what I thought or felt or believed at the moment. For the most part I don't like my writing. I don't believe that I am a good writer nor will be a good writer. I think some people just "have it" for writing the way people or WE wish to read. Back in June I believed that mixing my experience in Mexico with artwork and my "spiritual journey" would attract people to possibly want the story or the artwork. But, the truth is that the artworld and the entertainment or special interest world is much more complicated than just posting on the internet. Plus, as I've said so many times before, we are so many people on this planet with so few spaces for extreme success. Why me and not so many other talented people? I pass my days trying to maintain in things in perspective. So many people say have said, "Ross, you should publish... Ross you should sell your paintings... Ross you should open a restaurant..." and maybe it's true that what I create is different and is interesting. However, I think that type of success has something to do with a mix of destiny and a mix of socio-politics.. I want to share with you my artwork, my cooking, my experience. But, something tells me that all this is to remain very personal and private due to the design of my life. It's to say that my life was designed in a certain way for a certain purpose... As I have mentioned, I have 5 "planets" in Virgo. I don't have Leo in my astrological chart. Virgo is the virgin or the hermit. Leo demands attention. People can't help but fall in-love with (be attracted towards) Leos (depending greatly upon where Leo falls in the person's astrological chart and what else they have placed in their chart. Like my younger sister Beth, Pisces with Rising Sign in Leo or Scott Capricorn with Moon in Leo. Pisces and Capricorn are dark and closed no-nonsense signs so to speak... But the placement of Leo in those spaces attracts people... Demands attention. By virtue of... this person will "shine"... Anya said that she didn't believe that people change... I believed that people change. I believed that I am an example. But, the question is "what is this change?" I think we are a certain way and we change within those parameters. We react a certain way... we act a certain way within certain situations... when we are tired or stressed or concerned or... We are another way when we are content, relaxed, optimistic etc... Depending upon the situation, depending upon what and how we have learned, we change (better phrased, we evolve). But, I'm almost certain that the way we live is highly programmed within a combination of astrological make-up and the situation of our childhoods; the two factors that formulate our characters... What would it take for me to become a successful artist? I am Gemini with 5 "planets" in Virgo. Gemini is a lover of freedom and doesn't believe in structures-forms, rules, regulations... Gemini is light-hearted. So, Gemini artwork is stream of consciousness, free-flowing, part of a dance. Virgo is in conflict with Gemini, since Virgo is perfectionist, overly rational. Gemini is gregarious and superficially socia (socialization is a game). Virgo is anti-social in a positive sense, to say that they just don't want to be bothered with blah blah blah shallow and superficial conversations. Virgo does not play the game. They can live in a tree for all they care. "Don't bother me. I have better things to do with my time. And all my time I must dedicate towards accomplishing something..." That something is not socio-political. Do I want to live this way? Do I not want to be gregarious, successful? Of course I do. And that is my astrological conflict I must put into perspective. I must accept that the most "fame" I will achieve is through this blog. You can't change the date and time of your birth. You can't change the situation within which you were born. And I continuously ask myself knowing all that can't be changed, "Ross, truthfully what do you expect from people and life if you know that this is the situation within which you were born? Why do you write to these people... Why do you 'publish' this stuff when you know that you won't see these people, when you know that no one will enter you forrest and your cave?" You can't expect from people what they can't give... You can't give what is not for you to give... This is not pessimism. It is a reality. My younger sister Beth had a new boyfriend and she mentioned that she wanted him to meet me. She mentioned that she wanted to visit with us this year. I suggested that we plan on a visit on the Carribean in Playa del Carmen in December. I mentioned that I had a friend who worked at a resort there and that she could help us with the planning. She said that she needed dates and the number of people who would visit. The question was if Beth would be visiting with us with her two daughters... I emailed Beth that Veronica needed the information and Beth repeatedly didn't respond to my email. Who has the problem within this issue? I haven't been in contact with Beth since... and no, she didn't come to Mexico. It's possible that Beth suggested something she didn't truly believe. It's possible that my Virgo/hermit character doesn't have enough force of attraction. Should I be in conflict with Beth? Absolutely not. But I should maintain in perspective our "relationship" and my life/destiny. Everyone has life-themes. I've never thrown a party in my life. I don't seek parties or gatherings. I don't like other peoples' noise. When I was a child, I was considered shy... But, what is shyness? In my 20s I fought against that shyness. But, truthfully I think it's more like, "shy of" what it takes to actually enjoy social environments... "Shy of" what it takes to gain socio-politically... Maybe I was shy because I was born into a situation or a state of being, into a life, where I would spend most of my time with only one other person, but not with two people... it's to say that I am either with myself or I am with you... With you, you are the center of the universe with all my attention. But, I have also learned that I prefer my time with myself. I get tired of the interpersonal relationship; it's draining. So, I return to my books, to my painting, to my kitchen, to my walking and thinking... Can you fault me? The problem is the 20th century middle-class first world nation within which I was born was the century of tele-communications, marketing, services and information technology. It's not a good era for an artistic, intellectual, perfectionist hermit... And if I wanted to be my gregarious Gemini self, I find myself in conflict with my overly Virgo "anti-social" self... Every step forward socially receives 2 strong yanks backwards. One shouldn't fight against their internal truths or their destiny. You are who you are and you must understand those limits and accept them. We waste a lot of energy trying to be who we are not because we don't accept who we truly are. I won't be a superstar. That's just not me. I have done super things. Have overcome incredible obstacles. I have withstood much. I am very intelligent. I am talented in many things. But I am me as I am, as I was born, within what I was born. I can't expect you to understand or appreciate this or me... But, the least I can do is come to terms with the various conflicts and realities... This is personal. If I were to not share with you my personal life, you would not know anything about me because I would not be sharing with you, in contact with you... It's very simple and understandable. I am here and you are there; different universes. We don't see each other. What changes if I don't have facebook or a "Dead Man Walking" blog...? Nothing changes. But, for some reason I thought it important to share with you my photographs on Facebook and to share with you my "stories", experiences, journeys and ideas on Blogger. But, I think it is only an illusory distraction away from my own personal truth and reality.
Margarita and I have a very wonderful and successful relationship. Part of it is because we both have Ascendent in Virgo and she is Pisces, opposite of my Moon in Virgo... She is a "no-nonsense" person, always occupied in some form of work. We share the same space occupied in different projects. The one person respects the other. We both are passionate. But it is a reserved passion that usually comes after each others' work or project. No one expects that the one person should always be attending the other... Neither of us needs entertainment. We are active. But we don't seek social or public activities... We don't have to go out on the town so to speak. I guess for this reason you would find me boring. I'm not a partier, a social butterfly. I'm not a drinker... That doesn't take one far...
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Letter to a former lover
Do you remember this song? I think it was the song I most listened to the three months I lived in the studio in Brighton Beach. I love the song. But one must decide when it's time to stop being the creep. It's funny. Thom Yorke, the singer/song writer is incredibly beautiful; it shows in how he feels so deeply as expressed in his singing/performing style. The question is, what is the good limit for feeling and remembering? Joey called me one of those days in Brighton Beach. I was up to my ears in "being left" and told her that I was planning on going on a long walk away from New York City and she said, "I'll miss you". And she surprised me. I didn't know she felt. And then I pushed her away as I pushed you away. And then I went on my long walk without truly leaving anyone behind except for myself and my memories. But, for some reason or another, the memories keep surfacing. It's nice having memories. It's also nice constructing the present. I haven't been suicidal since you were in the Ukraine; just before Joey appeared as an intense aparition... I truly believed that you were so beautiful and I was the creep. And then I met Joey. But the truth is that beauty is just an illusion or a fantasy or something you wear. Like you said about the "beautiful people" in Williamsburg. I never accepted your statement. But, it's true; one can change dramatically their level of beauty by changing their clothing and their hairstyle... How is it that we can't fall in-love with that? But, "in-love" is just a projection. It's not real. And, I guess love is just boring... And true beauty... Well it gets old. What Joey and "had" was true beauty. Because it got us somewhere. I imagine it got her somewhere. It got me on my long walk... Don't misinterpret me just because I don't write well the truth of my experience. The beauty isn't so much in the person as it is in the relationship (the connection) as it is in the chain of events leading you through life, from one experience or relationship to another. You called me a "serial monogamist"... Can you blame me for trying? But you were wrong. I wasn't a serial monogamist. I just didn't believe in light superficial or shallow dating. I wanted you to be "the one", but I couldn't make you what you couldn't be; nor could I make Joey what she wasn't; which was truly beautiful. This serial monogamist is now married almost 9 years to a truly beautiful person within a relationship that improves everyday. But why write you? Because, I wouldn't have met Margarita had it not been for you. I invite you to read my writings "The 3 Messengers, parts one through three."
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Friday, November 25, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Dead Man Walking; Alive in Mexico
A dead man walking... sacrifice of one life for another. A walking suicide past life left behind. Almost 9 years alive in Mexico living... well... living well... or... living better... Why? You don't understand. Claro que no (certainly not possible for you to understand) that I live almost 9 years in Spanish and I'm writing you in English. What you don't know is that I am translating my Mexican street-learned Spanish thoughts into English ideas and maybe you are offended; not now, but before... my writings before. It's not so much an offense as it is a misunderstanding, misinterpretation... Dead Man Walking is about a rebirth. The problem is that in order to be reborn, you must first die. When you die, you don't take with you friends, family, possessions... You don't even take with you memories. I noticed that over the first 5 years of living here I forgot so much of my English memories; names, places, events, people... My possessions in the U.S. left behind in my mother's house disappeared (stolen or destroyed in a flood)... If you aren't economically wealthy, you can't straddle paises (countries). You don't have friends or family since you can't share each others' lives, time and space. When I left the U.S., not only did I kill myself, I killed you. If a tree falls in the woods but you didn't see or hear it fall, did it fall? The answer is Of Course! But not in your lifetime... It's to say that the tree didn't fall within your experience. Out of Sight; Out of Mind. Popular phrases... in English memories of a former lifetime... Why does one person think about another? It must have something to do with concern or with planning. I can't be concerned about you if we can't share our lives. I can't plan with you if we can't see one another... So why write in English? Why write this? And that's why I struggle with erasing people from my former life with whom I'm "in contant" at the moment... I don't like the I contradiction. I can't plan for sharing time with you. It's a foolish and unsatisfying fantasy.
Dead Man Walking but alive in Mexico... The suicidal finally succeeded in killing himself and now he is alive in Mexico finding success. In Mexico I am not suicidal. As I've written before, in Mexico I am not depressed. In Mexico I am successful. I am very responsible. My success is both economic, creative and social... However, in Mexico I don't have the style of friendships I enjoyed in the U.S.; cultural differences in how people enjoy sharing time with others... Here relationships aren't about enjoying conversation and sharing information and experience. Conversations aren't light-hearted dealing with intellectual, social, spiritual or political issues. They don't generally touch on those subjects... Relationships revolve around sports, alcohol, sex and political-economic opportunities. They don't revolve around warm sharing or true appreciation of the other person or of our connection. Sounds like I'm complaining? I'm explaining...
When I jumped out of my past life I sacrificed warm friendships. My connection with you is based upon the fantasy of maintaining those warm relationships, possible conversations and possible future encounters. Now if I'm always saying that I don't believe in lying to myself or contradictions, then why would I maintain these "relationships" if I killed that past life when I left the U.S. for Mexico? Over the past 8+ years I've been concerned with those contradictions or hypocracies within my mind or so-called actions. Actions referring to removing friends and family from my Facebook friends list. You don't understand why I would do that... You may ask, "Ross, why can't you just leave us there and not offend us by telling us that we aren't worth your friendship?" But, it's not about that. The friendship is worth too much to be dilly dallying floating as smoke or illusions that can never become concrete realities... The truth is that I am dead in your lifetime and my life here is not part of your experience nor will it ever be for the most part... It's a lets put it into perspective.
You read my past, my stories, my vicissitudes in Inglés and you say that I am totally crazy. But you don't know the I within the present story and history. The Ross is not crazy here in Mexico. Maybe he was crazy for coming here; for leaving "his" country, people, culture and language. But, he is so far from crazy here. And that's why I try and remove the confusion by putting "us" (our relationship) into perspective. The straddling the line between the intense reality here and the nothing there is crazy, stupid, foolish, ignorant. I'm 42-years-old. The most important and incredible things I've accomplished in my life I've accomplished here in Mexico. The lesson is being learned here. The accomplishment is being achieved here. But I don't, I can't have you here with me. And I don't think that's what you want either... Thinking about returning to the U.S. with Margarita is a foolish idea; we continue improving our life together HERE. I don't know success in the U.S. and not with you. I may have loved you. But that lived love ended when I left for Mexico. And now where are you? and who are you? Let's keep those realities in perspective. Straddling the line creates confusion easily misinterpreted as mental-illness... You think I obsess with violence, mentioning humans skinned alive, breasts cut off, hearts cut out... people hung from overpasses, people decapitated. But did you notice that Mexican President Felipe Calderon had 4 Ministers of the Interior (Vice Presidents) in 5 years. 2 of them resigned and 2 of them died in air transportation "accidents"... How many American polititions have died in airplane or helicopter crashes? Over the past 5 years how many Mexican Mayors have been assassinated? How many local judges, district attorneys, police chiefs have been killed? Look it up...
And you ask me, But Ross, why do you stay there? And I tell you, Because it's here that I have thrived with Margarita and Margarita my relationship thrives. And maybe it's best to die young thriving than to die old floundering...
In July I felt I was failing with my blog. It became angry. It became hostile. You may have been offended. You may have gotten tired... But it is a work in progress. Life is a work in progress. Didn't you know that? But I am dead. But I am a dead man walking; alive in Mexico... Why did it became angry? Why did it become hostile? I was sharing with you my life that lead to the jumping into the abyss called Mexico; my freefall, trustfall, suicide... I wanted you to understand the success by understanding the "failure". But it's very complex.
When a person lives for success and feels themself a failure, how do they resolve that issue? Does the failure prefer failure? I was exasperated with failure for so many decades. But the truth is a better question, "Was I truly a failure?" and that's why I shared with you the story of my father and his illness and his death which is my illness and the model for living as a man. I shared with you my childhood with my mother and with my sisters and with my elementary, middle-school and high school peers... It's intense. It's horribly difficult. I shared with you my surgeries; not inventions of mine... and the connected physical, spiritual and psychological difficulties afterwards and the living with the future of the disease and the complications... And I live with those complications, difficulties and concerns within my success here in Mexico with Margarita. And I am actually happy with myself. Although you are not happy with me... It's cool. You aren't here to know the truth. You only know your interpretations... But why should I worry about you if you don't truly exist?
I imagine that I write this entry to you, although not really to you... It's not actually an interpersonal writing. It's something I've been thinking about even if you had responded to me over the past few weeks or past few months... The question is "why are we 'connected' on Facebook?" I've been asking myself for the past few months who am I fooling by maintaining our connections on Facebook? What am I afraid of losing if I remove my "friends" from Facebook? And I return to the reality that nothing actually changes in my life if I 'disconnect' from those I will not see... I have one life and that life is the one I am living here in Mexico. It is in Spanish. I don't have international friends here as I had in New York City, friendships in English even if those friends were from non-English speaking countries. I read a ton of books here; all in Spanish. The only English I read is on the internet. The only English I write is on the internet and I spend so little time of my life on the internet. I don't spend my Spanish hours and days complaining. I spend those hours and days planning, constructing, sharing, teaching, producing, thinking about and feeling life and trying to understand the difficult why's that exist here and try to put all the difficulties into a spiritual perspective. But, the difficulties in Mexico aren't really mine, since Margarita and I have succeeded so much over the past 8+ years and especially during the difficult times of the past 3 years. We have some heavy concerns here because the country is in a horribly dire situation. But we keep on trucking and keep on keeping on... I'm concerned about bad things happening, since they are happening all around us. But, so many good things are happening in Margarita and my personal life... Lifes a process. You can't ignore the difficult just because you want peace. You must live and overcome and learn from and understand the difficult in order to gain and truly appreciate the good... But, truthfully, the good is only truly shared with the people in my life; and the people are Margarita and Ross. I wish I could say that it is shared with you. But you aren't here and we aren't there...
Dead Man Walking but alive in Mexico... The suicidal finally succeeded in killing himself and now he is alive in Mexico finding success. In Mexico I am not suicidal. As I've written before, in Mexico I am not depressed. In Mexico I am successful. I am very responsible. My success is both economic, creative and social... However, in Mexico I don't have the style of friendships I enjoyed in the U.S.; cultural differences in how people enjoy sharing time with others... Here relationships aren't about enjoying conversation and sharing information and experience. Conversations aren't light-hearted dealing with intellectual, social, spiritual or political issues. They don't generally touch on those subjects... Relationships revolve around sports, alcohol, sex and political-economic opportunities. They don't revolve around warm sharing or true appreciation of the other person or of our connection. Sounds like I'm complaining? I'm explaining...
When I jumped out of my past life I sacrificed warm friendships. My connection with you is based upon the fantasy of maintaining those warm relationships, possible conversations and possible future encounters. Now if I'm always saying that I don't believe in lying to myself or contradictions, then why would I maintain these "relationships" if I killed that past life when I left the U.S. for Mexico? Over the past 8+ years I've been concerned with those contradictions or hypocracies within my mind or so-called actions. Actions referring to removing friends and family from my Facebook friends list. You don't understand why I would do that... You may ask, "Ross, why can't you just leave us there and not offend us by telling us that we aren't worth your friendship?" But, it's not about that. The friendship is worth too much to be dilly dallying floating as smoke or illusions that can never become concrete realities... The truth is that I am dead in your lifetime and my life here is not part of your experience nor will it ever be for the most part... It's a lets put it into perspective.
You read my past, my stories, my vicissitudes in Inglés and you say that I am totally crazy. But you don't know the I within the present story and history. The Ross is not crazy here in Mexico. Maybe he was crazy for coming here; for leaving "his" country, people, culture and language. But, he is so far from crazy here. And that's why I try and remove the confusion by putting "us" (our relationship) into perspective. The straddling the line between the intense reality here and the nothing there is crazy, stupid, foolish, ignorant. I'm 42-years-old. The most important and incredible things I've accomplished in my life I've accomplished here in Mexico. The lesson is being learned here. The accomplishment is being achieved here. But I don't, I can't have you here with me. And I don't think that's what you want either... Thinking about returning to the U.S. with Margarita is a foolish idea; we continue improving our life together HERE. I don't know success in the U.S. and not with you. I may have loved you. But that lived love ended when I left for Mexico. And now where are you? and who are you? Let's keep those realities in perspective. Straddling the line creates confusion easily misinterpreted as mental-illness... You think I obsess with violence, mentioning humans skinned alive, breasts cut off, hearts cut out... people hung from overpasses, people decapitated. But did you notice that Mexican President Felipe Calderon had 4 Ministers of the Interior (Vice Presidents) in 5 years. 2 of them resigned and 2 of them died in air transportation "accidents"... How many American polititions have died in airplane or helicopter crashes? Over the past 5 years how many Mexican Mayors have been assassinated? How many local judges, district attorneys, police chiefs have been killed? Look it up...
And you ask me, But Ross, why do you stay there? And I tell you, Because it's here that I have thrived with Margarita and Margarita my relationship thrives. And maybe it's best to die young thriving than to die old floundering...
In July I felt I was failing with my blog. It became angry. It became hostile. You may have been offended. You may have gotten tired... But it is a work in progress. Life is a work in progress. Didn't you know that? But I am dead. But I am a dead man walking; alive in Mexico... Why did it became angry? Why did it become hostile? I was sharing with you my life that lead to the jumping into the abyss called Mexico; my freefall, trustfall, suicide... I wanted you to understand the success by understanding the "failure". But it's very complex.
When a person lives for success and feels themself a failure, how do they resolve that issue? Does the failure prefer failure? I was exasperated with failure for so many decades. But the truth is a better question, "Was I truly a failure?" and that's why I shared with you the story of my father and his illness and his death which is my illness and the model for living as a man. I shared with you my childhood with my mother and with my sisters and with my elementary, middle-school and high school peers... It's intense. It's horribly difficult. I shared with you my surgeries; not inventions of mine... and the connected physical, spiritual and psychological difficulties afterwards and the living with the future of the disease and the complications... And I live with those complications, difficulties and concerns within my success here in Mexico with Margarita. And I am actually happy with myself. Although you are not happy with me... It's cool. You aren't here to know the truth. You only know your interpretations... But why should I worry about you if you don't truly exist?
I imagine that I write this entry to you, although not really to you... It's not actually an interpersonal writing. It's something I've been thinking about even if you had responded to me over the past few weeks or past few months... The question is "why are we 'connected' on Facebook?" I've been asking myself for the past few months who am I fooling by maintaining our connections on Facebook? What am I afraid of losing if I remove my "friends" from Facebook? And I return to the reality that nothing actually changes in my life if I 'disconnect' from those I will not see... I have one life and that life is the one I am living here in Mexico. It is in Spanish. I don't have international friends here as I had in New York City, friendships in English even if those friends were from non-English speaking countries. I read a ton of books here; all in Spanish. The only English I read is on the internet. The only English I write is on the internet and I spend so little time of my life on the internet. I don't spend my Spanish hours and days complaining. I spend those hours and days planning, constructing, sharing, teaching, producing, thinking about and feeling life and trying to understand the difficult why's that exist here and try to put all the difficulties into a spiritual perspective. But, the difficulties in Mexico aren't really mine, since Margarita and I have succeeded so much over the past 8+ years and especially during the difficult times of the past 3 years. We have some heavy concerns here because the country is in a horribly dire situation. But we keep on trucking and keep on keeping on... I'm concerned about bad things happening, since they are happening all around us. But, so many good things are happening in Margarita and my personal life... Lifes a process. You can't ignore the difficult just because you want peace. You must live and overcome and learn from and understand the difficult in order to gain and truly appreciate the good... But, truthfully, the good is only truly shared with the people in my life; and the people are Margarita and Ross. I wish I could say that it is shared with you. But you aren't here and we aren't there...
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