Brain Damage

Scribbling furtively has always been an enjoyable, cathartic hobby, though my previous employer has always tried to seek ways to denigrate that; consciously, for the most part, but I shall not be silent. Money is very often a method for the old to control the free; for money, much like Time, is a transient resource. It comes and goes, flowing through us, evaporating in every instant – and she is nearing the end of hers as a bitter parasite, leeching the life blood away from those living for the love.

“Motherfucker this ain’t back in the day – but you don’t hear me though!”

Learn to reserve your judgements and you will be freed, for generalisations are the folly of the ignorant and compromise is the vehicle of stability.

From the vantage point of (relative) success and happiness, I wonder whether this life of fierce self disregard can be maintained? That for which I fight is no grand ideal, I wish to rest these hands and eyes on the gentle curves of exotic women.

Teaching is as recompense for the egotism of the gladiatorial lifestyle, its progression and movement brings euphoria. In order to give to others, first forget thy self, for what is the truly selfless act? Loyalty in a world of snakes and false smiles.

Still it is people who give us most strength, for often the greatest battle is within ourselves. A life of violence, the resultant damage of which is carried irreperably, giving at once reason for and fleeting knowledge of inner being – through asceticism we may find.

In one’s final moments, before the void blackness of non-existence once more envelopes us, is there a moment of sudden empathetic clarity? Or do we leave as much we came – with even fewer answers? Only those who sacrifice themselves can know what it means to be set free.

“I want something good to die for, to make it beautiful to live…”

Failure and death are as consequential as life and success in the mind of every woman and man; what matters is not the what or how, but the why. Each is the servant of his or her own senses, and how we interpret them determines our view of the world; therefore we have a choice in our perceptions.

When we see the madness and pain which surrounds us, the apparent meaninglessness of life, when we are assailed by the lies and deceit of our fellow humans, when the chaos of greed and power infects us, what choice is there but for us to forego ourselves for others?

PS I soon after this boarded the plane from KL back to Phuket after missing the initial flight – and was treated to the most spectacular flying experience of my life. A bird’s eye view of places I knew well; first Langkawi, with it’s volcanic looking peak rising from tranquil seas, followed by the green coral shallows surrounding a single island, sloping off into the depths below, and then the majestic fortress of Maya bay and the undulating walls of Phi phi with its pinched twin center beaches. Further now and into Phangga suddenly to be confronted by multitudes of prehistoric islets jutting ragged from their bay. Over peaceful Koh Yao Noi and its sprawling mudflats, and shallow mangrove beaches – crustacean paradise. Finally reaching the familiar undulating forested mass of Phuket stretching into the distance, over palm lined lagoons under the moisture laden monsoon heavy skies, lit orange and blue by the setting sun. And in my ears playing;

“My god I know what a blessing is, thank god i know what a blessing is.”

Arriving in Phuket to be greeted by sprawling well-lit markets, music playing and people eating in the streets, and I was reminded of the remarkable individualism and personal freedom of the Thai people, and compared to the madness being perpetrated in many parts of the world, I felt that there were many good reasons for being alive…

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