Durazno cósmico
Por cielo
no te quedes tan lejos
en tu infierno.
Tan extraño y obviamente lejano.
Aléjate de ahí
y vente para acá
al Infinito, sin hora
sin reloj.
Sin comienzo
sin fin
lejos de esa triste realidad.
Puede ser que aquí no estarás
sin justicia
sin amistad
sin sal
sin limón
Aquí no existe mucho frío.
Solo lunes por la mañana
cuando sale el sol y te arranca
de tu sueños y tu cama.
Sin misericordia
de tus lindos sueños
de nieve y miel
y arboles y lagos
de ser reina
cosmonauta
lagartija o rey.
Escucha, por favor
a mis llantos de palabras
no de amor
o de amistad
o de muerte
o de venganza.
A mi clase de realidad.
No conozco a quien te sembró
o quien te dejó
así
sin luces
sin pan
sin perdón
no fue la culpa entera de ellos
ni enteramente tuya
tampoco la mía
Durazno cósmico,
¿porque te quedas así?
Sin misericordia
sin dar perdón
¿Qué le pasó al sol?
¿Se quemó y nos abandonó?
Y el mar,
¿se ahogó?
El cielo te mordió.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Ticking Away
2011 is well underway. Almost half done, actually.
A new year. A relatively clean slate. A new chance.
At least, that's what we've been led to believe. In reality, all this talk of new opportunities is a thinly veiled mind control technique designed to make one forget about the past. Hmm. Not that bad, in a way. Of course, there are those who would argue that time means nothing. It's another social construct designed to dehumanize us all. And by that same token, holidays and other dates we've established to commemorate events are included in the meaninglessness of it all. But if we were to abolish our system of dates then the dates we should always keep in mind would vanish into the dust. Hmm. A set of golden handcuffs? Maybe.
Regardless, one cannot deny that 2011 is a new year. More often than not, a new year represents new opportunities. New people, new tasks, new challenges. More often than not, one finds that they cannot shake off the trappings of a year now gone. Still got some monkeys on your back and a horde of demons still waiting to be dealt with. You know the kind. People who vow to exercise and get into better shape. They try so hard the first month or so and then vanish into a sea of fried foods and inertia.
Then, there are more pressing matters that for some reason or another never get resolved. It seems strange that these types of things get ranked lower on the scale of priority but it's probably because there's more stress and pain in existential matters than in the petty ones.
In the past, I've made lists of things I wanted to do in the new year. I never did any of them. Or I did them for a few weeks then forgot about it and repeated the habits I wanted to avoid in the first place. I never really gave them much thought probably because I was a kid or just naïve. Probably both.
This time around that cycle has repeated itself. But not out laziness but because of a general sense of apathy. I really don't care about certain things anymore. Which is actually a big problem and a wonderful paradox. I want to care about something but nothing really registers with me these days. Chalk that up to a lack of motivation which is the cause of many problems. A deficiency in motivation is a deficiency in many other things.
If things go well, the remainder of the year will give me a reason to give a damn. Or more of a damn.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go roll some dice.
A new year. A relatively clean slate. A new chance.
At least, that's what we've been led to believe. In reality, all this talk of new opportunities is a thinly veiled mind control technique designed to make one forget about the past. Hmm. Not that bad, in a way. Of course, there are those who would argue that time means nothing. It's another social construct designed to dehumanize us all. And by that same token, holidays and other dates we've established to commemorate events are included in the meaninglessness of it all. But if we were to abolish our system of dates then the dates we should always keep in mind would vanish into the dust. Hmm. A set of golden handcuffs? Maybe.
Regardless, one cannot deny that 2011 is a new year. More often than not, a new year represents new opportunities. New people, new tasks, new challenges. More often than not, one finds that they cannot shake off the trappings of a year now gone. Still got some monkeys on your back and a horde of demons still waiting to be dealt with. You know the kind. People who vow to exercise and get into better shape. They try so hard the first month or so and then vanish into a sea of fried foods and inertia.
Then, there are more pressing matters that for some reason or another never get resolved. It seems strange that these types of things get ranked lower on the scale of priority but it's probably because there's more stress and pain in existential matters than in the petty ones.
In the past, I've made lists of things I wanted to do in the new year. I never did any of them. Or I did them for a few weeks then forgot about it and repeated the habits I wanted to avoid in the first place. I never really gave them much thought probably because I was a kid or just naïve. Probably both.
This time around that cycle has repeated itself. But not out laziness but because of a general sense of apathy. I really don't care about certain things anymore. Which is actually a big problem and a wonderful paradox. I want to care about something but nothing really registers with me these days. Chalk that up to a lack of motivation which is the cause of many problems. A deficiency in motivation is a deficiency in many other things.
If things go well, the remainder of the year will give me a reason to give a damn. Or more of a damn.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go roll some dice.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Neil Young asked a good question.
What if your world should fall apart?
That's a good question, Neil Young.
There is no doubt that at some point or another, something affects you so profoundly that you become very attached to it. But when that goes away, it hurts. It hurts so goddamn much. And the wound only festers even more as you ask questions like "Why?" and "How?" with desperation in your voice. Shutting your eyes tightly, to try to shut away the sights of the world.
It hurts because as the inevitable conclusion has been reached, you realize that what ever you got attached to is gone. Right before your eyes, that belief that whatever you experienced would last forever or for a very long time is gone. Gone is what you held so near and cherished so much that it caused you some kind of peaceful pain, if that makes any sort of sense.
What you were attached to goes beyond just "attachment". It crosses into some inexplicable zone that transcends and defies obvious or even thoughtful explanations. Mind-boggle City. It's a mysterious maze with endless twists and turns with thorns everywhere and exits that drop you off the face of the Earth. Or leave you at the entrance. Or leave you in a comfortable chair with Stan Getz and Astrud Gilberto lounging nearby between songs. Because of this, there is no one-size-fits-all answer. The answer changes from person to person.
What if your world should fall apart?
Everything's going to fall apart at some point. Everything.
Why? Because try as you might, nothing will last forever. But that's not a bad thing.
The safety net that you gaze upon so lovingly will burn up and leave just a pile of ashes. This is temporary. From the ashes a phoenix might rise. Or some other metaphor that involves sweeping the failures of the past away like the following:
Your free fall that is not interrupted by anything and the impact upon crashing, and broken bones, all that stuff... just temporary. You'll stand up again and realize your world has fallen apart. You'll be bummed out at first but not for a while.
You'll think about everything prior, during, and after. It will blur into itself. And produce more questions. A wheel that will eventually stop turning somehow.
The person eager to get back on track, sometimes in a premature haste, will be the first to say something like, "deal with it" and "move on." While that is sound advice, it disregards the time it takes to heal and repair the self. Returning to some place unprepared is never the best move on anyone's part. So being quick to move on while admirable in some vein, is ultimately foolhardy and ill-advised.
Another more meditative person will say something like, "These things happen." The problem is that the more meditative person tends to meditate too much and will let their world keep falling apart. Not a good move either.
So what would I do?
In my perpetual search for that fabled balance, I will try to bring the polar opposites together. This doesn't always work but it beats eating undercooked meat or burnt ashy toast. At least, that's how I see it. Everyone's different. My method may not work for others and admittedly, it barely works for me.
The key thing to keep in mind is that nothing will last forever, or as long as you want it to. Your world will inevitably fall apart at some point in some way. Everything really is quite temporary and dwelling on them won't do much.
What if your world should fall apart? Let it. It'll end up rebuilding itself somehow at some point. What can you expect from the reconstruction?
If there's anything to pull from this post in regards to the title question, it's probably this:
If your world should fall apart, rebuild. You'll figure something out somehow.
That's a good question, Neil Young.
There is no doubt that at some point or another, something affects you so profoundly that you become very attached to it. But when that goes away, it hurts. It hurts so goddamn much. And the wound only festers even more as you ask questions like "Why?" and "How?" with desperation in your voice. Shutting your eyes tightly, to try to shut away the sights of the world.
It hurts because as the inevitable conclusion has been reached, you realize that what ever you got attached to is gone. Right before your eyes, that belief that whatever you experienced would last forever or for a very long time is gone. Gone is what you held so near and cherished so much that it caused you some kind of peaceful pain, if that makes any sort of sense.
What you were attached to goes beyond just "attachment". It crosses into some inexplicable zone that transcends and defies obvious or even thoughtful explanations. Mind-boggle City. It's a mysterious maze with endless twists and turns with thorns everywhere and exits that drop you off the face of the Earth. Or leave you at the entrance. Or leave you in a comfortable chair with Stan Getz and Astrud Gilberto lounging nearby between songs. Because of this, there is no one-size-fits-all answer. The answer changes from person to person.
What if your world should fall apart?
Everything's going to fall apart at some point. Everything.
Why? Because try as you might, nothing will last forever. But that's not a bad thing.
The safety net that you gaze upon so lovingly will burn up and leave just a pile of ashes. This is temporary. From the ashes a phoenix might rise. Or some other metaphor that involves sweeping the failures of the past away like the following:
Your free fall that is not interrupted by anything and the impact upon crashing, and broken bones, all that stuff... just temporary. You'll stand up again and realize your world has fallen apart. You'll be bummed out at first but not for a while.
You'll think about everything prior, during, and after. It will blur into itself. And produce more questions. A wheel that will eventually stop turning somehow.
The person eager to get back on track, sometimes in a premature haste, will be the first to say something like, "deal with it" and "move on." While that is sound advice, it disregards the time it takes to heal and repair the self. Returning to some place unprepared is never the best move on anyone's part. So being quick to move on while admirable in some vein, is ultimately foolhardy and ill-advised.
Another more meditative person will say something like, "These things happen." The problem is that the more meditative person tends to meditate too much and will let their world keep falling apart. Not a good move either.
So what would I do?
In my perpetual search for that fabled balance, I will try to bring the polar opposites together. This doesn't always work but it beats eating undercooked meat or burnt ashy toast. At least, that's how I see it. Everyone's different. My method may not work for others and admittedly, it barely works for me.
The key thing to keep in mind is that nothing will last forever, or as long as you want it to. Your world will inevitably fall apart at some point in some way. Everything really is quite temporary and dwelling on them won't do much.
What if your world should fall apart? Let it. It'll end up rebuilding itself somehow at some point. What can you expect from the reconstruction?
If there's anything to pull from this post in regards to the title question, it's probably this:
If your world should fall apart, rebuild. You'll figure something out somehow.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Percy
I'm convinced this is a circular universe, if it even has a recognizable shape. You know, given that the universe is so goddamn vast that it would take a million lifetimes at the speed of traveling at the speed of light to see half of it. Regardless of how vast this universe is, it isn't much of a stretch to imagine that it has some circular design. I can't exactly say the same for existence but just this universe. Maybe another universe is a straight line and nothing ever really returns to normal but everything seems to here.
Lie down, get up, become exhausted, lie down again. Whereas in another universe, it could be: lie down, get up, become exhausted, float to the sky / jump into the ocean. Or some other path.
Though the course may change sometime, rivers always lead to the sea. This only applies to our universe, even with chaos theory in practice. You know, the theory that states that no outcome is ever alike? That things are always different and such?
It's always strange: the path of a boomerang. Depending on how you see it, it's distance growing, the ever powerful circle strengthening its grip in the tasks of the universe, or it's going to hit you if you don't duck or something. A boomerang might not fly back to you in another universe but in this one it will.
Then as it was, then again it will be.
Lie down, get up, become exhausted, lie down again. Whereas in another universe, it could be: lie down, get up, become exhausted, float to the sky / jump into the ocean. Or some other path.
Though the course may change sometime, rivers always lead to the sea. This only applies to our universe, even with chaos theory in practice. You know, the theory that states that no outcome is ever alike? That things are always different and such?
It's always strange: the path of a boomerang. Depending on how you see it, it's distance growing, the ever powerful circle strengthening its grip in the tasks of the universe, or it's going to hit you if you don't duck or something. A boomerang might not fly back to you in another universe but in this one it will.
Then as it was, then again it will be.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Bottle, Part II
And thus he spake...
"The king demands his crown back!"
Thanks to that, everyone is under attack.
Missing his crown:
the gold, the silver, the bronze, the jewel
Missing is peace:
Never has the land suffered a wrath so cruel.
Unfortunately for him, nobody can find it.
Unfortunately for them,
he's beheaded just about everyone in his courts-
tennis, basketball, racquetball, of law, of rule, and so forth.
Running away
Scurrying
Hiding
Fleeing
Away
from the madman's gaze.
But they run into his labyrinth.
His maze.
His garden of forking paths.
Goddamn power-hungry tyrant
If I had the means and methods
I'd smash his face and crush him like an ant.
His entire army
his legions
his personal guard.
His wife, that voluptuous wench!
I- I-
fucking crown
I'd -wear it
all over town-
All this in a drunken haze
That's how that sack of fur
spent most of his days.
Miserable fucking cur.
Being trapped in a bottle, after all
will cause your mind to stumble and fall.
Cracked is your shell
It hurts to swim in that liquid hell.
Soaked in some chateau
miles away from his little mind
swimming in the seas of some ancient year gone by
Trying to come up with a way to continue his wretched life
but the grizzly bear
who climbed into a bottle
chose a fate too large for him to bear.
He drank himself stupid.
Tzoo y-yorrr mizurrry AN-AN-AND dissssp-AIR!
Collapse
Splash
Gurgle
Drown?
"The king demands his crown back!"
Thanks to that, everyone is under attack.
Missing his crown:
the gold, the silver, the bronze, the jewel
Missing is peace:
Never has the land suffered a wrath so cruel.
Unfortunately for him, nobody can find it.
Unfortunately for them,
he's beheaded just about everyone in his courts-
tennis, basketball, racquetball, of law, of rule, and so forth.
Running away
Scurrying
Hiding
Fleeing
Away
from the madman's gaze.
But they run into his labyrinth.
His maze.
His garden of forking paths.
Goddamn power-hungry tyrant
If I had the means and methods
I'd smash his face and crush him like an ant.
His entire army
his legions
his personal guard.
His wife, that voluptuous wench!
I- I-
fucking crown
I'd -wear it
all over town-
All this in a drunken haze
That's how that sack of fur
spent most of his days.
Miserable fucking cur.
Being trapped in a bottle, after all
will cause your mind to stumble and fall.
Cracked is your shell
It hurts to swim in that liquid hell.
Soaked in some chateau
miles away from his little mind
swimming in the seas of some ancient year gone by
Trying to come up with a way to continue his wretched life
but the grizzly bear
who climbed into a bottle
chose a fate too large for him to bear.
He drank himself stupid.
Tzoo y-yorrr mizurrry AN-AN-AND dissssp-AIR!
Collapse
Splash
Gurgle
Drown?
Monday, April 18, 2011
Bombastard
I have a general disdain for excessive flashiness. Not to say that I have a problem with flashiness but I do have a problem with the excessive kind. In the sense that it crosses lines set in place to keep a balance. Though in reality, flashiness never fully reaches any sort of balance. I would say the main problem stems from excesses. Excessive flashiness and being overly bombastic in any regard is actually a detriment.
Detrimental as it emphasizes the wrong qualities about a person.
I'd rather hang out with someone who is shabby-looking and has little to offer in the way of material goods versus someone who carries the appearance of exuberance but has little to nothing in the way of actual substance.
This all just really means I am not fond of polar opposites and the desire to live in a world that is a stark contrast between light and dark with no swooning dusk or lovely dawn allowed to exist.
Detrimental as it emphasizes the wrong qualities about a person.
I'd rather hang out with someone who is shabby-looking and has little to offer in the way of material goods versus someone who carries the appearance of exuberance but has little to nothing in the way of actual substance.
This all just really means I am not fond of polar opposites and the desire to live in a world that is a stark contrast between light and dark with no swooning dusk or lovely dawn allowed to exist.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Bottle, Part I
The grizzly bear climbed into a bottle and never came out again. He wasn't an alcoholic or anything of the sort, he just wanted to climb inside a bottle and never return to the real world. He hated alcohol, which confused everyone given that he purposely climbed into a bottle of wine.
He tried to explain this choice by saying that wine didn't look like beer which looked like piss which he did not want to splash around in. Anything that didn't resemble beer was good, he stressed. Though his hatred wasn't directed at just beer but at alcohol in general.
"Alcohol is what's wrong with this country," he would roar, "and the birds. Especially those falcons! Goddamn winged bastards."
His ornithophobia was one of the "many valid" reasons for climbing into the bottle. His relatives all knew he was full of it but they just wanted him out of the way. So much was their contentment that it never crossed their minds to visit him, or even allow themselves to think of such a thing. Then again, they were business bears. Crappy ones at that. Their neighbors on the other hand, were financial geniuses, and bulls. Unfortunately, they had no interest in playing the stock market.
"And perpetuate a stereotype associated with my species?" they snorted. "No thanks!"
This caused much dismay to their other neighbors: an assortment of foxes, fowls, fish, and various other creatures, except for apes. They were on their own planet. Sort of.
All this and more the bear pondered from time to time from behind tinted glass.
He was oblivious to the effects of his exile.
"Am I hallucinating? Am I drunk? Is this space dementia?" echoed not only inside the confinement of the bottle but within the caverns of his recently cleaned-out mind; he caved after the first few hours and drank himself stupid.
He tried to explain this choice by saying that wine didn't look like beer which looked like piss which he did not want to splash around in. Anything that didn't resemble beer was good, he stressed. Though his hatred wasn't directed at just beer but at alcohol in general.
"Alcohol is what's wrong with this country," he would roar, "and the birds. Especially those falcons! Goddamn winged bastards."
His ornithophobia was one of the "many valid" reasons for climbing into the bottle. His relatives all knew he was full of it but they just wanted him out of the way. So much was their contentment that it never crossed their minds to visit him, or even allow themselves to think of such a thing. Then again, they were business bears. Crappy ones at that. Their neighbors on the other hand, were financial geniuses, and bulls. Unfortunately, they had no interest in playing the stock market.
"And perpetuate a stereotype associated with my species?" they snorted. "No thanks!"
This caused much dismay to their other neighbors: an assortment of foxes, fowls, fish, and various other creatures, except for apes. They were on their own planet. Sort of.
All this and more the bear pondered from time to time from behind tinted glass.
He was oblivious to the effects of his exile.
"Am I hallucinating? Am I drunk? Is this space dementia?" echoed not only inside the confinement of the bottle but within the caverns of his recently cleaned-out mind; he caved after the first few hours and drank himself stupid.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Up
... and forward.
Not a combination on a video game controller, necessarily. For that to be the case, one would have to follow up with fierce punch or A, B, X, Y, Y, A, B, A, A, back, back, fierce kick.
Up and forward simply (nothing can ever be truly "simple", can it?) refers to the only logical and effective directions in which one can and must head in their endeavors and pursuits.
Nothing ever good came from heading backwards or downwards, in a physical sense anyway.
In the more philosophical sense, regression makes little sense given that regression and devolution pisses all over progress and the great strides made forward.
Heading backwards only leads to miserable tears, a mutilation of the self and soul, and spitting in the face of the future which only comes back to hit one in the face with a far more painful sting of goodness knows what.
To avoid falling into a miserable trap of misery, melancholy, self-loathing, and all that stuff one is compelled to move up and forward.
Not a combination on a video game controller, necessarily. For that to be the case, one would have to follow up with fierce punch or A, B, X, Y, Y, A, B, A, A, back, back, fierce kick.
Up and forward simply (nothing can ever be truly "simple", can it?) refers to the only logical and effective directions in which one can and must head in their endeavors and pursuits.
Nothing ever good came from heading backwards or downwards, in a physical sense anyway.
In the more philosophical sense, regression makes little sense given that regression and devolution pisses all over progress and the great strides made forward.
Heading backwards only leads to miserable tears, a mutilation of the self and soul, and spitting in the face of the future which only comes back to hit one in the face with a far more painful sting of goodness knows what.
To avoid falling into a miserable trap of misery, melancholy, self-loathing, and all that stuff one is compelled to move up and forward.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Age
"Age is just a number, baby." Not really. Age has a varying degree of significance with people. Some look at age as an important factor in deciding all sorts of stuff. Others disregard it in favor of experience and knowledge. I probably fall in with the latter school of though. Beyond that, age is a number of different things.
It's another measurement of time and the slow crawl towards the inevitable. It is to be expected, however, "slow" becomes "Damn! Time just flew! What the hell!?" We have reminders of it but its becomes this sort of phantom that just lurks around. Or that weird friend that tends to sneak up behind you to try to scare you. Time is a ghost? Sort of.
And when the fear strikes correctly, you miss deadlines or appointments and all that.
But regarding age. It is some sort of painting on the wall that has weird eyes that follow you everywhere. It's there but nobody really notices it until someone else points it out:
"Wow! You really grew (insert noun/adjective/word here)!"
"How long has it been [since we last spent time]?"
"I haven't seen you in [time]!"
And similar questions irritate because they provide a lazy attempt at concern/attention or whatever you want to call it. Only if there is no follow-up. Other times, it's just insulting to hear what is tantamount to "You're old!" Ah the eternal specter (not to be confused with SPECTRE.) that haunts people (as specters are wont to do).
I don't really mind it anymore even if it's that time of year again.
Have a good one, reader(s?)
It's another measurement of time and the slow crawl towards the inevitable. It is to be expected, however, "slow" becomes "Damn! Time just flew! What the hell!?" We have reminders of it but its becomes this sort of phantom that just lurks around. Or that weird friend that tends to sneak up behind you to try to scare you. Time is a ghost? Sort of.
And when the fear strikes correctly, you miss deadlines or appointments and all that.
But regarding age. It is some sort of painting on the wall that has weird eyes that follow you everywhere. It's there but nobody really notices it until someone else points it out:
"Wow! You really grew (insert noun/adjective/word here)!"
"How long has it been [since we last spent time]?"
"I haven't seen you in [time]!"
And similar questions irritate because they provide a lazy attempt at concern/attention or whatever you want to call it. Only if there is no follow-up. Other times, it's just insulting to hear what is tantamount to "You're old!" Ah the eternal specter (not to be confused with SPECTRE.) that haunts people (as specters are wont to do).
I don't really mind it anymore even if it's that time of year again.
Have a good one, reader(s?)
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