chapter 1 - bastard windows

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chapter 2

i met two friends in the montreal airport... being in montreal and not being allowed to lick the left tit of this compulsively wonderful city ls like being thirteen years old and having your hands tied behind your back while looking at miss july dance and swirl like a hot steamy tornado right in front of you...i love this city... it's the place in the world where selling your soul for a sandwich could potentially be a reasonable proposition... in fact, the reason why god got so pissed off at whats-his-face for selling his soul for a bowl of soup was because the soup wasn't made by a french canadian.

i am a very sensitive fellow... two nervous breakdowns...four years with post-traumatic stress (accompanied with depression)... and a two day coma-type situation after I tried to murder myself...a year of intensive rest, followed by ninety nine days in europe was my recipe for healing...a wonderful idea, and being in a place where no one could identify me I could act like the biggest ars in the world and it wouldn't matter...i am a clergyman... we are all assholes, right?

As the plane was taking off into the bright afternoon sky i began to consider life... specifically...|taking back what was stolen from me: my health. we all take things that don't belong to us. ..the church bitches about the sinfulness of sex, but tell me this...when is sex not sinful??? i mean, even in the context of marriage, when are people honest about their truest intentions during the act of screwing??? when is it ever separated from selfish motives, deceit, and using the other for instant gratification??? that is to say, maybe the church is so preoccupied with the condemning of sex before marriage simply because it disregards the real issues of sexual intimacy, the issues of the heart. Is it an act of love or an act of dishonesty?

what has been taken from me is my health...religious institutions raped it from me as i was bending down in the shower to return to them their bar of soap... they never got the soap, nor did they clean themselves in any respect...they simply fucked me up the ass ... and i want my innocence back.

chapter 3

the beautiful thing about losing your airplane ticket is that nobody really wants to appropriate it...unlike your wallet or your virginity...or even your new tube of glue... it has no value to any one but yourself...it is almost like trying to take your own life...people no longer want to be with you...they find no value in the alliance.

after a few minutes of heavy breathing...i found my ticket, and weren't the french people happy for me...i responded, “we, we we! ticket! we we we!”

the thought of not getting back on the plane reminds me of playing in a tennis tournament in cape breton in l985...after winning my final match, I was given a piece
of paper by some old lady who probably considered hot flashes as a childhood memory...it was from my lady friend who i was traveling with... essentially it said... “fuck-off."... i cried in front of a rather large crowd as i accepted my trophy...all along the old lady reaffirming me that she probably had to rush home back to halifax and feed her cat or something like that...attempting to make me feel better... yet making me feel that she was probably retarded.

denial is such an interesting quality...could any of us live with our selves if we weren't full of it... if it didn't consume us like lust??? only more unassuming as we are so familiar with it that we no longer are aware of its presence in our lives...does any one really learn to love themselves??? how is it possible when the amount of negative reinforcement and criticism is so overwhelming??? then there is the devil... tempting us to do shit we know is wrong...even if we abstain... the thoughts we have to deal with still ring in our ears like we had just gotten out of a led zeppelin concert...front row center seats...loving ones self involves pure unadulterated humility... and who ever has any thing to do with that???

chapter 4

no perception in life is more metaphoric than what is seen as one looks through an open window...maybe its the frame given to the object being observed...maybe its because breasts and tits are more often than not what are being looked upon...maybe its simply the convenience of being able to sit while visions of night , weaker moments and crazy people are being taken in...and controlled...it matters not...the window eventually becomes the doorway for the dusting off of the retarded little creature known as man...! learned so much about myself as i watch others learn nothing about me.

there was mr. sex...his window was directly across from my hotel room...he would wait until someone was watching him undress his somewhat ignorant and carefree victim...he didnt really give a shit about sex...it was the thrill of having someone perceive him as a heterosexual man who got his ''pussy''...ironically , i would have been a lot more impressed if he had the other type of pussy-a cat , that is-and treated it with a little kindness...that is to say , the only thing really being fucked was mr. sex himself...in displaying his ''manhood''...he had only proven that he really didnt love women...maybe not even sexually...thats another question...if he had any respect for this woman , he would at the very least tell her of his exhibitionist inclinations...then
they could be perverts together .

i couldnt help ask myself the question : am i like mr. sex??? no , i dont have any desire to lure someone into some type of perverse world and not even tell them about it...yet
all keep secrets that are valuable bits of information that could help others to decide the degree of involvement that they would want to have with us...fuck it!!! if someone loves you , then they love you...to disclose yourself will only help the relationship in the long run...so much time and energy wasted as we pretend to be someone that we are not .

there was a lot of other interesting shit going on outside my bedroom window....most of it concerned with people wanting something that they probably should not be given...it was time to go for a walk down the streets of nice , france...wearing nothing but my underwear...with a quart of cheap wine in my left hand...staggering down the streets of this wonderful place...it was time for some real authentic french chinese food.

chapter 5

in a small town in northern italy i was hired to teach english
for the summer...i met my employer and then quit my job...i
didnt trust him...i had a bad feeling...who can have power
and not abuse it??? certainly not elfucko...elfucko-the name
by which i affectionately refer to him as-was going to abuse
his power...and i knew it.

power is basically the ability to get what one desires in
life...the actualization of the state of the inner man...when
one acquires power one is soon to have manifest the horrific
nightmare that is inside the hearts of most of us...only
with great effort is one able to resolve this inner darkness
to the place where it will no longer physically manifest
itself if given the opportunity.

the buddha teaches us that desire is evil and that we therefore
must not desire because it leads us into all sorts of shit...power
then is essentially being pulled in the exact opposite direction...making
opportunity for self satisfaction to be virtually impossible
to embrace...where there is power you will virtually always
find money and sex...and much of it...maybe this is simply
gods curse...being so fed up with people that he gives them
over to the perversions that they long for...allowing them
in turn to destroy their relationships and every thing else
...allowing only the appearance of wealth to
remain...maybe , save a miracle , there is inevitably an
inverted equation between the appearance of ones life and
the pain that is within...regardless if one is or is not
in touch with that pain.

after telling elfucko that i wouldnt work for him for the
next three months...he breathed a sigh of relief and toasted
me as we drank the night away along with the other employees
of his program on the italian riviera...now i could drink
as much as i wanted and not be worried about being watched...the
wine was dry and my inhibitions were washed like the waves
over the naked bodies just a few miles down the coast...like
breasts being casually taken by the current...my mind and
body and words were now free the experience and experiment...a
beautiful irish girl sat before me...her hair wrapped around
the brown long bottle of medium-dry...in very much the same
way i desired to place my fingers around her face...within
an hour i said to her : "if i ever get the guts to fall
in love again...i hope she is someone just like you".

chapter 6

thru a variety of somewhat strange and bizarre circumstances...i
found myself working for a sort of unforced labor camp
on the top of a mountain about twenty miles from where i
originally was in italy...it was a castle like building
that was being renovated into its former glory by someone
who will remain nameless...i was to move things from one
place to another for the purpose of knowing that where they
were...they werent any longer .

i woke up one morning to piss out of the back window to
make a somewhat disturbing discovery...there was a house
missing from my view down the hill...two instead of three
houses were now in sight...this was indeed quite a discovery...even
my urine was in awe...i could tell as it drifted down three
stories counter clockwise instead of clockwise .

it seems to be so strange talking about such things...the
fact of the matter is however that virtually nothing is
the way that it seems...love relationships being glorified
by society and family are found to be no more than people
falling in love with the way someone makes them feel about
themselves...most relationships are actually masturbation
in the most unhealthy sense possible...someone gratifying
themselves by using the mind , body , spirit and soul of
another...two usually do not become one...as so few people
ever learn to see beyond themselves in any respect...masturbation
is fine when it is an act of honesty...done by ones self
for the purpose of pleasing ones self...and maybe the reason
why fundamentalist religion is against such things is because
they really dont want to have much to do with anything that
represents even the most remote aspect of integrity .

as for the house...in a few hours it reappeared..once i
had a demon appear to me and tell me that its purpose was
to destroy my life...ive been poisoned by satanists and
cursed by cu1ts...i once ran over a twenty foot black snake
that refused to go thud , thud under my wheels...the fact
that things arent what they appear to be is a known fact
in almost every culture in the world...save those that worship
money and success as primary gods...the devil has a much
more devious plan for such people .

chapter 7

the people that i was staying with in the mansion on the
hill were from northern europe and very stupid...not that
people from northern europe are generally less intelligent...in
fact , these two guys just may be the dumbest of the lot...they
would watch me toil in the garden all day long as they complained
about how hot it was...''fuck'', they would say...''it sure
is fuckin' hot''...i would try to pretend that i wasnt completely
pissed-off at the situation , but probably didnt fool
anyone...especially myself.

the problem with me is that i take life too personally...when
people are lazy... i feel that its because i did something
wrong...when they are angry with me its because i am a
bad person...i find it difficult to let things go...the
universe ebbs and flows... and people are saints and ass
holes...the entire thing usually has nothing to do with
me .

i am an extremely unique control freak...never controlling
peoples behavior...yet feeling that if i can be good enough
they will surely behave properly...they dont...so i keep
behaving better and better...until i eventually am totally
exhausted or have a nervous breakdown...if gods love cant
compel us into a better way of life then surely i dont
have a chance .

i pleaded for love as a child...i remember once after my
father beat my mother to the ground with his fists...he
summoned my brother to kick her as she remained motionless...they
both laughed like they were watching a richard pryor video...i
, at the age of seven or eight , looked on in horror...my
wounds go deeper...the first time i ever attempted suicide
i was six years old...i held my fathers hunting knife to
my throat and began to push the blade against my skin like
a stereo needle against the latest beatles album...it was
then that i heard gods voice for the first time...he told
me that it would be all right...god obviously didnt know
my father .

come night , the two ignorant little northern fellows and
myself , drank a few bottles of wine and talked about the
finer things in life...like how to rid your house of rats
and other such critters...and more importantly...how to
open a bottle of wine without a corkscrew...with an upside
down nail and a hammer we finally have success...these
guys were not that bad after all...they even believed in
the existence of big foot and alien life...what more could
you want in a casual conversation .
  

chapter 8

an old man that i met on the cobble stone street one day
invited me to his house during a work break...he was just
like every other old man save he was mentally challenged
... he couldnt talk a single word of any language and he had
a strange habit collecting old ironing boards and painting
pictures of elton john on the cotton...he obviously had
never felt much love for years...maybe never...people desire
their children to be better than them...not just because
they love them-though this is often a very prominent reason- but
because they want to live thru their lives vicariously...they
want their children to meet the needs that were never met
in their childhood...i heard a story once where a baby was
born emotionally and physically deformed...the father turned
to the mother and said..."this one needs our love even more"...this
, of course , seldom happens...imperfection reminds us too
much of the turmoil within our own lives...furthermore...
we can never give a love that hasnt been deposited to us
somewhere down the road prior to the time it is needed to
be given to another.

the old man offered me a glass of wine from a dirty , cracked
cup...i could see his fragile , broken face as i looked
thru the glass...he was beautiful...god loves the broken
hearted...if the wine tasted like piss...then piss never
tasted so good...in his brokenness i was given the gift
of friendship.

some people never learn what is really important in life
until all is taken away...even then , most simply decide
to explore the wonderful world of bitterness...in the west
... we are taught that love is negotiable...and laying our
lives down for one another is insanity...yet this old cocksucker
had a sincere affection for me...in gods eyes his
kingdom probably covered half way across europe...i found
new jerusalem on his living room floor...and the insects
were no less than prize racing horses...the crumbs they
were carrying back to the holes in the fragmented , tattered
walls...chariots made of silver and gold...each with a bumper
sticker that read :"beware of the whore of babylon".

i said good-by to the kind , sad gent...he replied :''eeeee''...then
, as i walked away , i saw an old house cat that thought
he was a farm cat...(i know these things)...and i thought
to myself...he is probably not half as confused as the rest
of us ...he ate his spaghetti...i walked away to find some
more wine an old man that i met on the cobble stone street one day
invited me to his house during a work break...he was just
like every other old man save he was mentally challenged
... he couldnt talk a single word of any language and he had
a strange habit collecting old ironing boards and painting
pictures of elton john on the cotton...he obviously had
never felt much love for years...maybe never...people desire
their children to be better than them...not just because
they love them-though this is often a very prominent reason- but
because they want to live thru their lives vicariously...they
want their children to meet the needs that were never met
in their childhood...i heard a story once where a baby was
born emotionally and physically deformed...the father turned
to the mother and said..."this one needs our love even more"...this
, of course , seldom happens...imperfection reminds us too
much of the turmoil within our own lives...furthermore...
we can never give a love that hasnt been deposited to us
somewhere down the road prior to the time it is needed to
be given to another.

the old man offered me a glass of wine from a dirty , cracked
cup...i could see his fragile , broken face as i looked
thru the glass...he was beautiful...god loves the broken
hearted...if the wine tasted like piss...then piss never
tasted so good...in his brokenness i was given the gift
of friendship.

some people never learn what is really important in life
until all is taken away...even then , most simply decide
to explore the wonderful world of bitterness...in the west
... we are taught that love is negotiable...and laying our
lives down for one another is insanity...yet this old cocksucker
had a sincere affection for me...in gods eyes his
kingdom probably covered half way across europe...i found
new jerusalem on his living room floor...and the insects
were no less than prize racing horses...the crumbs they
were carrying back to the holes in the fragmented , tattered
walls...chariots made of silver and gold...each with a bumper
sticker that read :"beware of the whore of babylon".

i said good-by to the kind , sad gent...he replied :''eeeee''...then
, as i walked away , i saw an old house cat that thought
he was a farm cat...(i know these things)...and i thought
to myself...he is probably not half as confused as the rest
of us ...he ate his spaghetti...i walked away to find some
more wine

chapter 9

i referred to the old man as ''cock sucker"...i must now
state that i meant that as a term of affection...its like
saying to some one : ''hey you , you ugly prick ''...or :
''your mother is a whore "...i mean...what would you want
out of a friendship anyway??? someone who loves you being
somewhat rude in his expression of his emotions...or the
most polite and politically correct relationship imaginable...yet
based totally upon what someone can get for themselves???

one of the zillion aspects of our society that allows us
to conclude that we are , in fact , ''rome before the fall
''...is that the heart of the individual is not
considered to be an important aspect in discerning what
friend is or is not supposed to be.

the cry went through the hills and the tar pits of our world
:"whats in it for me ?''...relationships are using the same
principal that prostitutes and their clients base their
interactions upon...one meets the needs of another...it
is returned with another form of stimulation...and everyone
is convinced that everyone is dealing with sincere individuals...in
fact , until one stops getting their needs met...all are
considered good and upright individuals.

the affliction which is being described here is narcissism...the
idea that ones personal pain only matters if they scream
so loud that it hurts your ears...the value of another is
only relative to what they can achieve...its why great hockey
players are considered great human beings...and the opinions
of shitty hockey players are not valid...only what brings
us some sort of gratification is worth while...and if the
biggest idiot in the history of the universe scores three
points a game...then people will listen

it is no wonder why true spirituality is virtually non-existent
in north america...the richness of the human heart is not
what the narcissist can feed upon...love does not achieve
self-centered goals...in fact , it doesnt even seek its
own way...it even goes so far as to lay its life down for
another...values that , in truth , the church , the political
forum and society in general disdain and even are quite
profoundly threatened by.

chapter 10

there i was on a hill... licking the sky like a calf ,
her mothers dancing communist tit...minding my own business...getting
drunk with the carpenters...when , for some reason , i began
to stare at the toaster...wondering if it could make toast
light , dark and in between... wanting to take a closer
look at this wonderful appliance...! picked it up with my
left hand and began to fondle it with the other...slowly
at first...then faster and faster...then i looked behind
it for a brief second...just to check out the plug...and
there it was...a human bone...it was a nice looking bone...i
dont want to give you the wrong impression...but i couldnt
help but wonder what it was doing behind a toaster...was
it for stirring soup??? for beating a drum??? one of the carpenters
identified it as a female human bone...maybe the murderer
only killed girls...i would have to stop wearing my dress
, i thought...i had another thought as well...lets get the
fuck out of here!!!

the road to freedom began the next day and took about three
or four hours...the two carpenters...who became both good
friends and drinking buddies-there is a difference-drove
me back to the place that i began my trek...not my mothers
womb but the other place...a street with cars going back
and forth and the occasional flashing lights...probably
just to remind me of home...i was away from the porous cobble
stones cradled by upheaved rock couched by brilliantly patient
hands and designed into homes where people hugged ... screwed
and ate really fine pasta...such wonderful people a i concluded...but
now i was free .

in my freedom , i lost all the structure that gave me stability
in a place where i really didn't have any...i was free indeed...horrible
, horrible freedom...which made me both confused and very
confused..and what do we do when we get what we long for and
find out it has nothing in common with what we need??? project all our neurosis
upon someone else so we , once again , can simulate some sort of
self worth...the truth is that i was afraid..and not
wanting to own those feelings...i felt the need to be pissed
off at others .

chapter 11

when i was nineteen years old i drove 240 miles one day
to take my girlfriend-a country gal-to see the box office
classic :"the elephant man''...i couldnt help but thinking
how beautiful she was in comparison...shit , she was beautiful
compared to anyone , really...the pain that he must have
had to have gone through...so different and so vulnerable...an
easy target , as he was a perfect display of how most feel
inside...to attack such a man would be to attack our own
fears...the fears that we attempt to hide like homosexual
feelings constantly being repressed into our blood stream
and pushed into the caverns of our souls...like the desire
to suck on a womans tit and pretend she is your mother nurturing
you in the way mom was supposed to yet never did .

''the elephant man''was a prophetic voice...revealing to us
the truth of our condition...how pathetic we really are...to
love such a man is the beginning of self love and discovery...to
despise him is to despise ones self...the judgment of god
is made manifest...to anyone with the wisdom to see it...and
with judgment is the possibility of healing...though this
road ls seldom embraced.

on the streets of the city of nice , i saw ''the elephant
man"...or at least one with the same affliction...his pain
i could actually feel 100 meters away...i wanted to take
his picture but my heart was too broken to lift the camera...when
i look out to the ocean i see my sadness...as i stare at
his broken , deformed , pulverized body i see my loneliness...yet
i am fully aware that this is not about merits... it is about someone
who will never be heard...and who probably has insights
that could cause the earth to shatter...he has seen what
the world is like when no one has anything at all to gain
by treating one with dignity...all by himself he has reduced
the human race to the very thing that most spend virtually
all their energy avoiding...reality...this man knows no
games of manipulation or of :"climbing the company ladder"...or
even of how to get fucked...he and his pain simply are...and
the rest of us have to deal with that .

at this time i felt god speak to me quite clearly...to the
train station i was supposed to go...quite specifically
, i was to meet someone in southern spain...this was his
will for me...yet as the trees and the villages passed by
the slightly dirt tainted window...i felt somewhat afraid...sort
of like i always do.

chapter 12

my new friend...who i refer to as my new special friend...was
named freddie...but i referred to him as froggie...not because
he was french...though he most certainly was...but because
he could jump really high and far...not that i ever saw
him jump at a11...he simply looks the type...you know ,
short stumpy legs that i am sure he was teased about all through
out grade school so he compensated by learning to jump really
really far.

froggie and i took the first night train we could find to
san sabastian in northern spain...we drank until we got
quite drunk...then , thank god , the train stopped long
enough for us to find some more beverages of an alcohol
content...we talked about the amazing lily pad that we refer
to as the universe...how big it is and how small we are
in comparison...or are we???
it is suggested that every point in the universe intersects
at every point that one could possibly imagine...therefore
it is quite possible that every truth that there is , not
only on a human level , but on an infinite scale that is
not only concerned with this dimension but possibly others
as well...is locked inside of who we are...ready and willing
to be embraced the moment that we stop resisting ourselves
and each other .

the resistance that i refer to is pride...that is , the
unwillingness of the conscious mind to accept the truth
of ones self as clearly stated in the subconscious mind...pride in essence , is afraid of the truth concerning ones self...forcing
it to hide and mutate into something even more destructive...as
it sees imperfection as its mortal enemy .

if the subconscious mind is not embraced , it will begin
to behave like an unloved child in fear of the truth being
found out about him...behavior will be erratic and even
uncontrollable...as the conscious mind so isolates its self
from the subconscious mind that it begins to loose even
the slightest understanding of why it is doing what it is
, in fact , doing...self justification , then , is the method
of perpetuating this process...while dancing with and even
copulating with its brother , pride...everything not only
begins to make sense and seem reasonable...but , at the
same time...they begin to form a new point of reference
to become the center of the universe...a new god if you
will...and it is referred to as : self.

inside the way of self...the two levels of mind no longer
have to understand each other...the truth that the subconscious
mind had to offer is now completely irrelevant...the conscious
mind has become completely self satisfied...and will dismiss
all opposition from now on...one of the benefits of being
a divinity.

and here enters the purpose of organized religion...if done
correctly...it can be used to justify anything...choose
the church that will help perpetuate the darkness within...it
is quite easy to find a clergy that will reinforce any neurotic
view that is conceivable within the context of the perversions
of the human mind...self righteousness is the perfection
of the church throughout the centuries...and the reason
is simply because...it makes money .

chapter 13

it was about four in the morning that froggie woke me from
my sleep...and he wasnt the kind of dildo that would wake
someone up just to tell him that he should be asleep either...indeed
not...froggie woke me to tell me something really important....that
he had drank my pint of rum...this did not bother me...what
did however was what followed...froggie proceeded to introduce
me to his new found drinking partner...this fellow looked
like a very nice fellow...but only because nice really means-
if you understand greek-ignorant and stupid-which would
have been his good qualities...this man was extremely dangerous...i
felt somewhat afraid and that i had lost control.

control is such an interesting thing...we all desire it
so much yet none of us have it...in fact , the closest
we can ever achieve is the illusion of control...that is
fucking ourselves around in our heads to such an extent
that we feel secure as a result of our own endeavors.

i once tried to help an old lady down a flight of stairs
with her groceries...she would not allow me to , however
, as she wanted to make sure that i did not attempt to take
her purse and run away laughing at her as i went...what
she failed to realize is that i could have waltzed up to
her , taken the purse out of her hands...shoved her lipstick
up her ass...crawled away on my knees...and there wouldnt
have been a thing that she could have done about it.

she did nothing to circumvent a potential situation...what
she did was create an illusion of control...passing on the
possibility of a new friendship simply so she could pretend
that she was safe .

i didnt fear too much over my friends new convict travel
companion...i truly believed that god would either protect
me or that i was destined for conflict...which meant that
fuck-face was probably going to be thrown off the train
into an unsuspecting patch of grapes...non-the-less...to
embrace reality is to feel completely insecure regarding
your safety within this universe...yet reality also points
to the existence of a god who , unlike us humans , is in
control...and ours is to just let it happen...to relax and
suck life in as it unfolds...knowing that there is a far
greater order to things than the disorder inside our heads.

chapter 14

it was seven in the morning when the train arrived at san
sabastian...they were piping classical music throughout
the streets... as if to cleans our souls of the sin of rock
and roll to begin the new day...i danced down the street
like a drunken member of the village people...not the cop
though...never the authority figure...i need acceptance
too much...i dont care if people think that i am gay...as
long as they know that i am not the law .

relating my dancing to life...isnt it strange that if we
dance one step , then every thing is fine...and if we dance
another...it isnt...fuck...its all dancing...why cant we
just dance the way we feel???

ultimately , people really dont care what is right wrong...they
care about what makes them feel comfortable...life is a
dance...you can do it in a way that is destructive as satan
with a hard-on...people dont really care...as long as they
can feel that they are familiar with the behavior...if they
are not...they will hate you .

it is my considered opinion that jesus christ caused more
shit raising people from the grave than he did telling religious
leaders to fuck themselves...everyone is used to the idea
of being told to fuck themselves...it is performing the
supernatural that we dont understand...it doesnt matter
if it is even too beautiful for words...it is different...hence
, people are terrified of it .

we are not as intelligent as we think we are...though humans
have come up with , from time to time , the most wonderful
ideas...the fact of the matter is that people generally
respond out of fear...the most demented and crippling of
emotions...which ultimately... makes us emotionally retarded...and
this is what rips our intellectual abilities into little
pieces...leading us into the direction of our extinction...not
our salvation...fear is the opposite of love...it cannot
produce life .

chapter 15

on the beach...just like neil youngs 1973 masterpiece...most
of us are simply like the waves... forever reaching into
the distant landscape...never embracing the destination...never
attempting to change...to find a better and different pathway...maybe
the water should give up the fight...accept itself for what
it is and rest in a state of gentleness and humility.

before i had my second nervous breakdown...i used to play this
very interesting party trick...i would have someone-anyone-
tell me the name of someone that they knew... and i would
tell them virtually every thing about them...of course,
always being right.

the reason that i did this was the same reason that homosexuals
come out of "the closet"...i wanted acceptance of my true
self...my gifts...my flaws...everything that i was within...
what i didn't realize was that... after six or seven correct
readings... people would perceive me as " jesus christ all
mighty"...i just wanted to be accepted as another ass hole...but
with a gift of profound intuition...this would not happen
however...so those who perceived me as god...had no alternative
but to despise me after i tried to fuck myself over.

the interesting thing about humility is that it is such
a rare commodity in our society that nobody has a point
of reference to deal with it once it manifests itself...the
fact of the matter is that people will project upon you
their own motives for doing what you are doing ...that is
... to talk about your gifts will be seen as some type of
power trip by those who are into power trips...some sort
of ass backward way of putting someone down... by those who
lust after the reputations of others...and so on...fuck...i
honestly just wanted to be accepted for who i was...to me
there was very little else going on...i dont even understand
how the possession of a gift makes someone a better or
more spiritual person anyway...i just wanted to stop hiding. .

chapter 16

as we meandered down the streets of san sabastian...we realized
that something was very wrong...it was difficult to discern
at first , but as the day licked its way into the noon hour
, froggy finally figured it out...it was salami and wine
time...(whenever i think of salami , i think of sex...my
first girlfriend would always eat german salami and cheap
cheese as she fidgeted with my nuts...i still dont know
why).

an old spanish blue hair troll-troll means dignified woman
in spanish-caressed her poodle on the park bench as we chewed
, drank and swallowed our noon time meal...i thought to
myself that she was rich...and maybe she would desire me
as her love slave...i could pretend that i was the poodle
and she could reward me with wine and cheese every day...i
could even learn how to crow like a poodle .

the problem with desire is that , if one truly desire something
enough , then there is a very good chance that one will
eventually get what one desires...this would be wonderful...yet
i have never met a human who actually knew what was good
for them...they function in life being consumed by two kinds
of grief...the grief of getting what one desires...and the
grief of not getting what one desires...both lead us to
emptiness...and , worse , attempting to perpetuate this
neurosis by filling ones self with more and more of the
same...around the mountain...like moses and his gang of
sluts throughout the wilderness...being driven by lust and
the quest to satisfy the lower nature...they were unable
to perceive the direction of their true salvation.

it is the spirit that knows all...whereas our mind and feelings
play tricks with the rest of our being...changing our goals
and our needs as the occasion deems fit...the spirit within
can actually hear from the spirit of god...guiding us into
a direction of truth and love and peace...leading us through
wonderful experiences along the way...experiences that we
were actually deemed to have had since the creation of the
universe...all necessary in terms of becoming fully and
completely human.

ultimately... it is love that must be lusted after...the
true healing thing in all circumstances...all else is a
deviation away from the ''true path''...love will never fail...it
will guide... protect and give what is needed...opposed to
what is believed to be needed.

chapter 17

froggy and l were in st. john de la luz...rum and coke is
such a beautiful thing...froggy had been informed that his
money supply was gone...i felt so badly for him that i gave
him the last sip of rum...he was to hop on the lily pad
of life back to the great white north...i slept with my
wallet in my underwear...just in case froggy was a thief...with
my luck he would be a homosexual thief...who likes to take
peoples underwear as well as their money.

someone once said that most people spend their lives living
in quiet desperation...hiding themselves from the world...afraid
of rejection at every corner...quite interesting , is it
not??? i mean , it is not until we are known for who we really are that we can actually experience acceptance...yet we
see our reputation as more important than the possibility
of love .

i assume that we dont see the possibility of real love as
very important...that status and money are what matters...funny
that...jesus said that some day all will be gone but faith
hope and love...yet we still dont see it as very significant.

first of all...who will succeed if they are known for who
they really are??? ! mean, what wife wants to hear from their
husband that they are a coward who would rather masturbate
than have sex with them??? that is , the brutality of honesty
doesnt seem to work.

to begin with... not too many people are smart enough to
realize that , if their husband was honest...it would mean
that they have one of the few alive...they would only compare
them with the status quo and conclude that they got fucked
on the deal...i! mean...an honest person looks like the worst
the lot...if you dont play the game...you lose .

i am indeed aware that the easy answer for building walls
around us is pride...god knows we are all full of it...yet
pride is too easy...and everyone knows that we all desire
to consider our selves better than the next person...fuck
it...life is more complicated than that , anyway...honesty
convicts us...and no one will say other wise...virtually
all have their wallet some where between their cock and
underwear...the only difference is...mine aint metaphoric...god
bless froggy...i am just paranoid...i know that the little
fucker wouldnt steal from me... he is too drunk to think of
it anyway .

chapter 18

maybe i am not as intelligent as i think i am...however...if
there are two courtesy packages of shampoo in the washroom
and one person has taken both of them...does not that mean
that he received more shampoo than the other person??? indeed
, froggy took my shampoo...the math suggests as much...thank
god i have my grade six education.

i wonder sometimes how we are seen from heaven...do the
honest look rich...even though they may be poor??? does your
hair still shine...even though the shampoo that you washed
with is stolen from a clergy man??? it is my considered opinion
that what we see with our eyes...what we smell with our
noses...has nothing to do with the real state of this cosmic
thing that we refer to as earth.

if , in fact , god is who he claims to be...and is spirit
, at least in essence...then we have to conclude that spirit
is more real than flesh...that we are living in the shadow
of something more real than...probably we could ever imagine...
maybe everything around us is a reflection of who we are
inside...maybe , at times , riches of this earth is no more
than a curse...seen through spiritual eyes as a trap that
one falls into to isolate one from the true meaning of
life...love and relationships with each other...at times
,maybe being poor is gods blessing...having mercy
upon us to such an extent that he doesnt allow things to
wedge themselves in between us and those who we are supposed
to be in love with.

i watch and confess even the slightest negativity that i
have towards my fellow humans...i believe that my energy
will take me on a path and lead me into a direction that
is congruent with who i am...not who i think i am...nor
who i convinced others that i am...my true self demands
to find a path that it is familiar with...and it doesnt
give a shit if my mind and intellect are aware of its reality
or not .

chapter 19

for whatever reason...i took the first train in the morning
back to nice...i wanted to escape home.

the train rolled down the tracks as the spanish wine rolled
down my throat...tickling my tongue , washing the strong
swiss cheese as i consumed it as the world consumes innocence...why
was i so scared??? and why does being scared scare me so
much???

the problem with being an abused child is that one believes
the abuse one suffered is , in fact , real in nature and
essence...it aint...only love is real...therefore , all
darkness that comes against us is a lie...and the rejection
that physical and emotional abuse represent...lies.

the beautiful truth about us all is that we are priceless
and loved by god...however , the normal human psychology
is consumed with untruths regarding its place in the universe...and
it is a response to these lies which usually wins out .

the result is that almost the entire world and its personalities
are based on lies...what people do , feel and say are not
founded upon any thing but anger , hurt and pain and such...meaning
, therefore , when the world comes to an end...and all that
is left is what is true and real...virtually nothing will
remain .

there is no hell in the traditional sense of the word...jesus
was referring to a place outside the city of jerusalem where
the garbage was burned...the concept that we are so familiar
with is simply instigated by religious authorities to control
the masses...the truth of the matter is that , come the
end , only what ls done in love will survive...all else
is gone forever...words , people , beliefs and incidents.

i did not overcome my fears...instead, concluded that they
werent me...they were lies to destroy a valuable part of
who i was and who l was meant to become...they were voices
from my childhood...lies told me by an insane person...i
accepted them as such...discerned them from my true self...and
bought myself a big fucking bottle of cheap french wine...time
to look at some more beautiful french tits.

chapter 20

tits are such an interesting thing...their absence suggests
innocence , purity and the desire for awakening...in the
context of a pornography movie they are an entity onto themselves...upon
the body of an old sagging lady...they are a joke...something
that is humorous...sickening even...anything...that helps
us from dealing with the reality of their existence.

on my journey to paradise-to be explained later-i was to
behold two pubescent twelve year old girls , swimming with
their bathing suits...possibly in the laundry...maybe not
existent...they seemed free to be who they were...the fear
of their progressing sexual development seemed to allude
them...and this concept seemed so foreign to me.

it is not our bodies that are sinful , nor is it our dark
nature , in a sense...the horror is in the self hatred and
fear that we have for our true identities.

to actually accept our selves as we are is the greatest
gift that one can receive in this life time...it means that
we truly have found the heart of god and have embraced
it.

we fear being physically exposed because we fear being emotionally
and spiritually exposed...and it is in the root of this
fear that we find self hatred...fear blocks out the light
of gods love...until we discover the value of nudity...in
every respect...we cannot find the grace of god.

the children played freely...and i must admit that i embraced
the moment...without any concept of sexual thought , that
is...i saw , not the ideal of freedom...yet the possibility
of finding that beautiful path...shame on any one who would
see the splendid joy of their bodies as a means of self
gratification...surely truth is far from such an individuals
heart .

chapter 21

the beautiful thing about sleeping on a park bench is that
it is not only air conditioned...but its also free...and
if you have to take a piss...you just have to open your
zipper and let it go...especially if you got a big cock...i
dont want to brag...but i hit the stray cat between the
eyes...and he was six or seven feet away from me.

it was about four in the morning that i awoke to the sound
of drunk teenagers...they were singing in french over my
sunken body...i assume it was french anyway...it sure as
hell wasnt english , and we were in france... a good looking lad named pierre pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and
offered it to me...i still remember the words he said :
''want a cigarette ?''...so profound for a young man...i told
him that i didnt smoke.

its strange how significant things seem so insignificant
at the time...and visa versa...words and actions are only
a reflection of what is really going on in a particular
circumstance...sometimes an accurate reflection...usually
not...what is important is the spiritual dynamic behind
the moment...that is to say...is the event inspired by love .

a small act of love is forever...it transcends time , space
and everything else that can be transcended...this is opposed
to, lets says , musical awards show...where someone is getting
reconized just because people are stupid enough to think
bullshit is great just because flies seem to like it .

a dollar given out of love , in terms of eternity , is greater
than a billion given out of selfish ambition...that moment
of being awoke from my sleep by a gang french ambassadors
was the result of something real at work...it will be with
me long after i am dead...long after telling tanya that
i loved her , in grade ten , so i could get a hand-job...is
burned into ashes and removed from this universe forever.

( if anyone ever tells you that : ''you cant take it with
you ''...ask them politely what the fuck they mean by ''it''...personally
, i spend every second of my life nurturing and cultivating
''it''...because taking ''it''with me is what life is all about).

chapter 22

the next day i decided to find myself some more appropriate
sleeping quarters...maybe even with a bed...having coffee
at the hotel i met a middle aged man who came over to my
table and sat with me...he was american and wanted to talk
about american things...baseball and such...within minutes
we made a connection and decided to embrace the city that
night together.

its fucking awful never having had a father...you keep looking
for a replacement for the rest of your life...then once
you have achieved some level of enlightenment you become
somewhat aware that you will never find such a man...yet
you still continue to look...in spite of yourself...the
inner frustration is considerable...information of eternal
consequence...has eternal pain attached to it.

even three year ago , i would have let him fuck me around
for the rest of the evening...this...person...wasnt interested
in me...he was interested in writing a novel about all the
people that he met during his european vacation...i was
just another chapter...within fifteen minutes i realized
that my hopes of finding acceptance was gone...in two hours
i was completely aware that this guy probably , like most
people , had never really loved anyone in his life...i looked
at him and said good-by .

healing never consists of being freed of our hurt...we always
seem to deal with that for the rest of our lives...what
healing is , however , is being aware of our neurosis...even
to the point of looking down at it from above...being aware
of it fully...then making the correct decision regardless
of our inclinations.

i roamed the streets of nice alone that night...then sat
on my balcony and drank the night away...i looked at the
french skies and thought to myself...it doesnt matter if
my father beat me half silly...god loves me for who i am...what
is left of me...and that is all that matters .

chapter 23

another day...another train ride...this time to cap di...a
small town just outside of nice...thirty miles from the
italian border...it was where i spent my time on a park
bench , actually...but this day its first class...the youth
hostel...complete with beds and windows...and walls to put
the windows in.

cap di is , in fact , paradise...on the french riviera...looking
out to the clear light blue waters of the sea ... the waves touching the shore like a mother caressing
her child.

come night i was introduced to a young dutch boy...and we
spent the rest of the evening with a bottle of rum between
us.

the beautiful thing about having a bottle of rum between
yourself and another is that , if drank in proper volume...then
there is a great possibility that nothing else will be between
you...booze simply helps us to say the things that we usually
cant .

there are not many people alive that are actually honest
in word and deed...our brain has a strange habit of filtering
out the true essential part of who we really are...and it
does so for a good reason...people will judge us...hurt
us...even kill us , if the truth be known.

love , then , can be alcohol in its purest form...love can
lower our resistance to our true identities...no longer
because we are too stupid to keep them up...but because
we are now in safe hands and we feel that there is trust...where
, in normal circumstances , there could be only fear and
paranoia.

i dont think that too many people have actually experienced
the state of not being afraid...and as a result , they never
took the chance to find out if they were loved or not...so
, in reality , they led a quiet normal life...dying to be
accepted...but never taking the chance of finding out if
acceptance was a possibility.

chapter 24

every day would begin with a two hour walk and prayer...attempting
to mend and heal this person that i have become...it was on
day two , i believe , in my stay at cap di...that i suddenly
had an acute revelation of what i had recently been through...
after a four year battle with depression and a three year
battle with post dramatic stress disorder...i , in 1999
, attempted suicide and spent three days in a coma-like
situation...fuck...it seems so clear to me now how horrible
that time was in my life...for the first time i feel that
it is far enough away from me that i can really take a close
look at what actually happened...there seems to be nothing
to do but cry .

i am not ashamed of what tried to do to myself...people
judge people that have been in my situation out of fear
and pride...to have been rejected and beaten since the day
i was born was easy for me to overcome...unlike any other
person that i have ever met , in fact...two dozen fatal
afflictions...learning disabilities...my brother disowning
me then dying...broken relationships and lovers betrayal
, etc...it was just shit that had to be overcome...fuck
it...it didnt matter...it was what happened to me in the
confines of institutionalized religion that caused me to
lose myself fully and completely...i believed in organized
religion , and it saw me as a means to an end...when i didnt
produce...they took away my life.

its so easy to kill people when you dont believe them to
be human...and thats what we do to each other...we dehumanize
...so we can destroy...it is commonly referred
to as narcissism...and it aint healthy .

i completed my walk and then ate a pizza with some friends
that i had met the day before...my tears were dry and it
was time to enjoy france with some really interesting folk...indeed
, the more of pain that you have seen...the more that life
can be enjoyed .

chapter 25

moving right along...like kermit the frog in the muppet
movie...only different...i begin to think about the concept
of sin...do you know the only thing worse than being a sinner???it
is thinking yourself not to be a sinner.

i dont 1ie...i dont betray...i dont even touch the bodies
of girls , unless i feel that i love them and that it could
develop into something special...the
point here is that i have lived a life of loving the best
way i possibly could...and have been despised for it by
gods wonderful servants .

only if i had a secret...if only i had fucked the bishops
wife...or daughter...then maybe i could have justified the
way the church has treated me over the years...and i wouldnt
have tried to kill myself...no shit...i had my nervous breakdown
the moment that i became aware the world was totally unfair...and
that i had done nothing to deserve all the hatred that i
had received from the church .

ironic , eh ? ,my love for people is what eventually almost
killed me...i couldnt believe that one could be so innocent
and still be so hated...im not so innocent any more , unfortunately...i
do things that i would have never have done in the time
that i was accused of being the anti-christ...but i am wise
now...so my pain is my own...my hurtful behavior-though
very insignificant-is between me and those that i trust...i
havent yet lied...but i wouldnt put it past me.

indeed , we are our experiences...and that is why we cannot
judge others...we dont really know what they have been through...and
we certainly cant tell if they are trying to deal with their
hurt or not...judgment is not a gift that any one of us
have...if we cant accept a behavior...then we should get
out of the way...but only god knows the state of the heart.

chapter 26

having lunch with a pervert...bless his soul...who am i
to judge...talking , he does , of the prostitute who he
was soon to discover was a man...it aint hard to figure
out how this profound truth was learned.

the interesting thing about the act of sex is that every
society in the history of our planet has either glorified
it or condemned it to one extent or another ...strangely
enough , nobody seems aware that these extremes are the same
perversion .

the sad part is the poor bastard who takes either extreme
seriously...who believes that casual sex , with no love
, is an oak. idea...or actually believes the minister ,
when he screams from his podium , that his sexual drive
is completely ''under control"...that he is victorious over
''the flesh''...isnt lying completely.

the truth of the matter is that we are intensely sexual
beings...and these feelings will inevitably be explored
in one context or another...and there will be mistakes and
confusion along the way...as for those people who are pretending
to deny this...virtually every time they are the greatest
sexual criminals of us all...the deception builds a wall
of darkness that is unable to allow any light into the soul...the
result is a sickness...and the greater the sickness...the
greater the lies and condemning of others.

i could hardly finish my lunch...this did not make him a
bad person...i simply felt blessed that i wasnt that screwed
up within the context of my own sexuality...its like this...if
you say any word enough times...it slowly loses its meaning...and
if you screw anything you so desire...sex , too , will lose
its meaning...its not a matter of going to hell...or whatever...its
a matter of living a life with true meaning...with freshness
in every experience...sexual or otherwise .

i threw up right outside the dining quarters...customers
quietly walked away...the cook , for some strange reason
, thought that the whole thing was funny...we all laughed
and had another bottle of wine

chapter 27

walking on the topless beach...i noticed...tits...strange...i
kept on feeling somewhat compelled to compliment the ladies on their firmness , tenderness and even tan...yet
i was aware that this would have been a bad idea...in fact, i
felt that i wasnt supposed to even notice.

lets get it straight...if you go to a topless beach , then
people will notice your breasts...even if they swing in
the wind , or hang down to your knees...frig...especially
if they hang down to your knees.

it is not just the alcoholic that lives in denial...in fact
, everyone of us is there to one extent or another...choosing
to believe what we want to believe...truth fades into obscurity
and is feared any time it even attempts to come into the
general direction of the one who is disregarding it...
one of the few common denominators of virtually all of mankind
is that there is a feeling of fear and disdain for what
makes them feel uncomfortable...therefore the world of most
individuals consists of a series of avoidances of particular
truths that upset the particular individual.

in rich countries it is far worse...as money and even entertainment
can bring avoidance to a whole new level..the desire to
escape from reality that is birthed in the heart is made
manifest by means of buying , drugging or even hiding in
front of a movie screen...it is not a coincidence that entertainment
is a multi-billion dollar industry...the average person
watches three hours of TV. a day...even teenagers feel
compelled to masturbate while being visually stimulated...terrified
of their own thoughts to the extent that they must be replaced
by the images presented by others...sick fuckers for the
most part .

personally , if i am going to screw my life up...i would
like to do it myself...i will face my pain then run away
from it if i cant deal with it appropriately...yet it will
be mine...i will embrace it and discover its meaning...i
will attempt to deal with it...and if i cant...at least
i will know what is going on inside of me...and , over the
course of time , maybe there will be some progress made...maybe
not .

chapter 28

indeed , the subject of teenage masturbation...the most
wonderful thing about it is that it can continue long after
you ''grow up"and enter adult land...sex without commitment
and responsibility...nobody has to pay...nobody gets hurt...nobody
goes away feeling unsure about the future with their partner...it
is no wonder the church disdains such practices...they cant
even tax it...and there are no babies being produced that
grow up and give them money...it must be a sin!!!

whereas god is concerned with allowing us to have free will
at great personal cost...the institution of religion seems
to be mainly concerned with control and manipulation...making
people do what they desire them to do for their benefit
, in one way or another...that is to say , for the most
part , religion is diametrically opposed to the teachings
of christ , as given to us in the books of the four gospels.

the dynamic of controlling another is , in a very profound
way , a form of cannibalism...the consuming of another for
what is perceived to be for ones benefit...only we distinguish
between flesh and soul...personally , id rather have someone
eat my body and put me out of my misery , than eat my soul...and
have me still physically alive , though inwardly dead.

do you know what the worst thing about jerking-off is??? its
doing it in the shower in cap di...there were no taps on
the showers...just some fucking reset button that had to
be...well...reset...it was about seven strokes of my dick
to every one push of the...thing...i personally believe
that this was designed by some religious fanatic that figured
he had some revelation from god to extinguish the demon
of masturbation...can you imagine how frustrating it must
be dedicating your life to the cause of getting people to
stop masturbating??? i wonder if you could get registered
as a non-profit charity??? can you imagine how
screwed up the board meetings would be???

chapter 29

the buildings of monico reminded me of erect cocks...they
were a monument to mans desire to conquer and control...if
you had no money...you had no power...therefore...you werent
welcome in monaco.

so there was this crazy bitch who was obviously mentally
ill...i almost wanted to follow her to see how she would
be accepted in this fucked-up little town...i did not
however...i just continued on my journey.

the worst thing about money is that people think that they
can define their worth by having it...and the more that
they have...the better they are as people.

this allows for no growth at a11...if being rich makes you
good...then being a rich murderer makes you no better or
worse than a rich person who hasnt killed anyone.

if you are defined by any one quality...unless it is love...you
are fucked...nothing allows anyone to get away with anything...lets
put it this way...if you screw around on your wife...it
will hurt her...she will feel-and be-betrayed...even a trillion
dollars wont change that .

we look for reasons to define ourselves by something besides
what we really are...probably because we are all such fucking
idiots...what we dont realize is that this is fine...we
are idiots loved by god...and if we could disregard our
pride for even a second...we would see how beautiful that
this is.

the truth of the matter is that i left monico feeling like
i didnt belong...too bad...i feel that god makes people
rich to allow them the opportunity to give to others...where
has the world gone wrong...you may not realize it...but
this is really scary shit.

chapter 30

there was this baptist ass hole...he wanted to argue with
me about...toilet paper...or something like that...all i
wanted to do was relax...right after i beat the shit out
of him...but good ministers dont do this kind of thing .

thirty minutes later , he wanted me to take his picture
on an island that i was beginning to consider somewhat sacred...as
he made the hundred meter walk...i cant tell you how tempted
i was to take a picture of my dick when he wasnt looking...i
laughed so hard that i cried just thinking about it.

our emotions arnt bad...its what we do with them that can
be potentially be bad...if we could just accept ourselves
as we are....we could embrace ourselves and then deal with
our entire personhood in a complete and wonderful way.

1 refused to hate myself for wanting to kill the ass hole...nor
for wanting to shock him...i simply allowed myself to feel
humble for my desires...it was a beautiful day...no one
should have the right to spoil that...i saw gods love...not
some ignorant prick that reminded me of those who destroyed
my joy some six or so years ago...i let the day go down
fine...by gods mercy.

feelings are just feelings...maybe the gospel message is
simply love...not just others , but ourselves..shit...do
you really think you can love and accept others if you cant
love and accept yourself??? you cant give what you dont have...i
promise you .

chapter 31

it was night time again...the rum was cheap...perfect...the
sun was setting over the sea as the liquid began to wrap
around my tongue like a babies arms around her blanket...there
were lawyers at the table...beautiful , lush ,well plucked
lawyers...i could picture the one on the left fondling her
breasts behind her law book...there was a question that
i had always wanted to ask a lawyer...now was my chance...''
if space men came down to our planet with really big friggin
guns...the kind that could melt brains...would they still
be subject to our laws ?''

there is only one true law , actually...and that is love...if
we do this one simple thing then nothing else matters...we
are at one with god and each other .

what religion and , in fact , people as a whole dont seem
to understand is that law is a man made device...that reeks
with our sinful desires to control and manipulate and to
perceive ourselves as better than others...law is an evil
thing...and will be twisted to meet the needs of those who
have the power to put it in place and facilitate it.

the bible says that a woman who commits adultery should
be stoned to death...well , guess who does the stoning??? possibly
the same prick that she screwed in the first place...we
are also in deep shit if we mix two types of material...in
other words...i could go to hell for wearing my underwear.

i find it interesting that fundamentalist christians condemn
homosexuality because of some abstract references in the
old testament...they dont realize that they are entering
a world of mens perverted notion of gods character...the
perception of god through a vengeful and self-righteous
heart...using gods name for their own benefits...slandering
him along the way .

they also dont realize that once one steps outside of living
a life of simply embracing gods mercy...then
we have to be perfect...that is , keeping all parts of the
law in order to sustain ourselves and our identity.

this is not a heaven or hell thing...we will , however ,
judge ourselves in the way we judge others...and give ourselves
mercy if we choose to give mercy to others...this takes
place some where in our souls...a psychological pattern
we develop...that we will either live or die by

chapter 32

the strangest thing about my discovery of the nude beach...was
not that i saw a man that looked just like elton john...but
that sir elton actually lived only a few miles down the
road...and , in fact ,a friend of mine had seen him in the
airport a few days before this experience...could it be??? no
, impossible...and , besides , elton could afford a better
cock than this guy...i couldnt help but stare at this fellow...maybe
if he hadnt been completely naked...i would have been more
comfortable conversing with him .

the nude beach was actually a minor let down...i thought
that these people would be naked as a metaphoric expression
for wanting to be transparent and real with each other..not
even close...they weren't as repressed and anal as what one
confronts in the average evangelical church...but learning
to love and accept and be free was not the motivation for
most of them being in this particular state .

there are many ways to be religious...pretending one is
ethically and spiritually superior to another is most often
the objective...that is , your way is better than another
way...but there are as many paths to achieve this as there
are people in the world.

i remember sitting in church thinking that all of the people
shared the same belief structure...it was bull shit...get
them drunk enough...honest enough...and the discovery is
that there are more differences than similarities...only
the surface beliefs are the same...and , quite often , only
because people are afraid of being found out to be committing
blasphemy.

this was just another religion , for the most part...if
you kept your bathing suit on...then you were shunned by
those who were naked...they had made their own set of arbitrary
standards that had to be lived up to...god is love , acceptance
and forgiveness...and how we run away from this truth...in
so many different directions.

chapter 33

my assessment of the teenage world is that each and every
one of them believes that they know some cosmic truth that
their parents know absolutely nothing about...as a result
, they feel obliged to make up their own set of rules...hardly
even taking into consideration the mind set of those who
have gone before them .

strangely enough , i feel that they have a point...that
is , at this stage of life...children are awakened to the
possibility of what life could be...hence , the frustration
of seeing a world that has obviously gone wrong.

what the dumb fuckers dont realize , however , is that their
parents were in the exact same place twenty or thirty years
before...they saw truth in front of their faces...and explored
it..right until the time , at age sixteen , or whatever...that
they became profoundly aware that following such a desire...was
frigging difficult..and it would cost .

the sad truth is that most kids begin to fold emotionally
right after their first lover turns out to be an ass hole...they
dont even come close to lasting until they learn that one
cannot be honest and integral in the office place and expect
to get anywhere...people have an allergic reaction to pain...and
we have a lust for pleasure...accompanied with a deep seeded
belief that life should be relatively easy...and that anything
hard isn't worth while.

essentially , the concept here is referred to as lusts of
the flesh...the looking for pleasure at the expense of higher
truths...it is , in fact , idolatry...as what is pure ,
beautiful and right...are no longer the most important things
in the universe...according to the owner of this mind set...self
gratification is the one true god...and anything in the
way must be dealt with regardless of the end result.

chapter 34

the train eventually stopped at some medium sized down that
moses never visited...probably because there was no sea
to part...once you get good at a trick like that...you really
want to exploit it...shit...the men may have gotten excited
and self righteous...but the ladies would have been horny
and wet...think about it...it is within the nature of most
women to want to be protected...but to be supernaturally
protected...this is a state of being that very few could
ever resist.

what moses did was wonderful...yet the aftermath was never
discussed in the bible...that is,everyones wife wanting
to fuck moses...are you offended??? fuck you!!! if you know
anything about the history of israel...you are quite aware
that possibly the main issue that the lord , god , all mighty had
with these bastards was that they perpetually felt a need
to have their children butchered to foreign gods...slaughtered
, even...yet the reaction that one has to these people desiring
to screw their protector , unless i miscalculated , is one
of disdain and horror .

the caveman who got the best woman was not the one with
the biggest cock...nor was he the best looking...and he
sure as shit wasnt the most beautiful deep within...he was
the fucker who could slay the biggest mother fucking dinosaur
in the entire valley...and so it still is today...like it
or not.

the spirit within is easily disregarded...so it is , once
again , the desires of the flesh that rule virtually every
one of us...and they dictate to us that we need security...so
poets alike myself , who were completely abused as children...are
overlooked in terms of being mates by the rational members
of the female species...they look for ''the biggest club
'' instead .

ironically , in later life...people change their priorities...sometimes
because of a type of spiritual awakening...sometimes because
they simple become aware that the big club was beaten against
them as often as it was beaten against the dinosaurs head...that
is to say...time teaches those who want to learn...some
big fucking lessons .

in this small but beautiful town...i ran to the corner store
as fast as i could to buy the kids each a sandwich...i was
not their protector...i could not and cant even protect
myself...i just wanted to buy them something to eat...they
were wonderful kids .

chapter 35

there is a vast cosmic truth behind buying someone a sandwich
that very few souls in the known universe are aware exists...that
is , once the sandwich is purchased there is potential power
and control happening between the giver and the recipient
of the object in question .

what if the kids saw me needy and weak...trying to buy their
affection for god knows what sort of reason??? what if they
felt in debt to me for the frigging bread and a strange
looking bun that these people seem to always put their lard
between???

the truth that is before us here is that most people really
dont believe in the overflowing transcending beauty of love...the
universe , instead , is seen as a power struggle...winning
affection...having something that another desires...even
having the ability to make another feel a certain way...which
is a very deceptive counterfeit to love...is what allows all
things to ebb and flow.

i could have told the little fuckers that i bought them
lunch to make myself feel good about myself...that would
have been a very plausible story...but , shit , it really
didnt matter...they were just kids...their hearts were not
aware that love is a very scarce commodity...more rare than
do-do birds...or even the homosexual version of big foot...love
is ,in fact , the most rare and precious of all things...as
jesus said :''a pearl of great price''

most people never learn how rare or how beautiful love is...they
either never really play ''the game''...or they never get
deep enough with even their spouses to see if the love and
acceptance is real or they arnt even looking for it in
the first place...just stimulation and good feelings , sexual
or otherwise...fuck , maybe they are just too stupid to
look back at their own personal history to see how things
fell apart over the course of a life time .

regardless , one wonder where sandwiches go sometimes...i
mean , besides the shit house and then back to the sea...strangely
enough...they werent even very good sandwiches.

chapter 36

how do you celebrate being in the most beautiful place in
the world??? you get loaded , of course...and not just on
mouthwash...but green chartreuse...and if you celebrate
any other way...its because you have a small penis !!!

how do i describe this beautiful fluid without getting
rude??? heres how...its like spices and rum between a tender
and richly dark womans legs...with hash smoke breathing
out of her vagina...as you both soak in the bubble bath.

we sat around the table and drank until we could drink no
more...somewhere between low and high...our spirits twirled
down the french alps right into a herd of sleeping ducks...that
laughed as we tickled their feathers.

drinking is such an interesting thing...ones inhibitions
go down...ones penis goes up...and one feels a need to disclose
ones true identity...be it reasonable, ridiculous or evil.

i think that our need to drink is directly related to our
need to be real...to express our emotions and have them
accepted as part of who we are...yet we cannot believe that
this could actually happen under normal circumstances...so
we introduce two new variables...first , there is the ''i
was drunk" thing...the perfect excuse , we believe, for revealing
what is truly within...and secondly , we also give ourselves
an irrational mind that we can hide behind as the truth
is leaving our mouths...that is , we simply dont give a
fuck...we have the courage to be honest because we , for
a few hours , believe that there are no consequences to
our honesty .

it all points to a desperate need to have love , acceptance
and forgiveness as an essential part of our lives...to be
forgiven and to forgive...what a concept...something that
could potentially heal the world...a wonderful idea...that
never seems to happen...so we find something that will simulate
this dynamic...booze.

we drank through the day and into the night...we learned
much about each other , the boys and i...and then there
were others that joined us...one of which was a beautiful
young lass from england...her hair hanging down in front
of her breasts...but besides that...nothing pissed me off
about her...she was indeed amazing .

chapter 37

i took the young lass to a bar called ''wild wallabys''...it
was a beautiful day...there was a dog that seemed to control
the joint...l couldnt remember his name...but i was sure
that it was not fuck-eyes.

i know the dogs name wasnt fuck-eyes because he didnt have
eyes that were fucked...that settled it...yet on the other
hand , one cannot help but to compare this to the state of
being human...that is , if a human has fucked eyes , you
really cant call him fuck-eyes , anyway...i mean , most
people have fucked eyes...so whats the point of calling
someone fuck-eyes , when he is really in the majority ;
and therefore his fuck-eyes are not a distinguishing factor.

the heart of a human being is seen through the eyes , i
believe...all the purity , kindness...and in most cases
, the pure , unadulterated witchcraft .

i once noticed how a man moved his hand...it was a very
distinct way...to me it meant that he committed adultery...i
was right...our heart thrusts itself through everything
that we are...thank the lord that virtually the entire frigging
human race is so caught up in itself that they couldnt see
all this if the lord himself came down from heaven and wrote
it on their TV. screen...people are just too self indulged
to see life on virtually any level.

people give themselves away , in terms of who they really
are , every second of the day...yet all others are so caught
up in saving themselves from being exposed that they cannot
see the truth that is so obvious before them...thank christ...they
would only use it for their own benefit...healing the world
is only what people desire to talk about...the truth of
the matter is that most have a very distinct agenda...(how
i hate that word)...and love at best is second to the fulfillment
of that declaration.

the girl brought her boyfriend...i let my ideas go immediately...we
sat and drank our booze...then it was time to go home and
drink our booze...on our way i bought and drank some booze.

chapter 38

the owner of the place that i was the guest of... was a deeply
spiritual man who was open to strange possibilities that
are considered , for the most part , bizarre and impossible...and
as he talked about such matters i became increasingly eager
to demonstrate the simplicity of the supernatural.

i was taken on a tour throughout the lodge...and in every
room that i entered i disclosed the personalities of those
who had lived there a long time ago...the proprietor , knowing
full well the history of the place , confirmed my intuitions...not
that i had any real doubt about what i was revealing .

i find it even easier to do such things when i have been
drinking...when i am totally relaxed and beyond censoring
myself out of fear or intimidation...when my conscious is
very secondary to my subconscious.

the truth of the matter is that time is a relative concept...it
doesnt really exist except for the reason of giving us a
point of reference for where we are at a particular space
in the history of an inferior dimension...and , therefore
, it is somewhat easy to tap into what has previously happened
at a particular spot , especially if the incident had been
profound enough to leave its essence , or energy , circulating
in the air like a dead fish on the shore of the ocean.

its very simple , actually , if a fish swims over a spot
of water then his presence wont be remembered...but if it
dies there and then the tide strands it...until its rotting
flesh is taken out to sea...the remains will be quite evident
in virtually every respect...so , then , if something profound
happens in the physical world...long after the incident
is over...the energy will remain...that is , until the spiritual
tide comes and takes it away.

the tide which refer to is the tide of love...only love
can erase the negative energy and replace it with divine
light...which is one of the reasons why people
and countries are doomed to repeat history...subconsciously...
they are captured by the past events of their land...doing
what is familiar to them on an inconspicuous level which
they dont even come close to understanding.

chapter 39

it was drunken supper time...all us travelers from around
the world would eat our pasta , chicken and such...there
were two young virile looking ladles sucking back their
hamburgers , talking about the village from which they came...apparently
everyone in this quaint little settlement discriminated
against outsiders...even to the point of making it so uncomfortable
for them that they would have to leave and find another
place to get screwed around in...i said that this was awful...they
replied that it was part of their culture and , therefore ,
reasonable.

my suspicion was that the real reason why these two ladies
found this type of behavior o.k. was because they weren't
the ones getting shafted by the locals...i was even convinced
that , if they were the ones being emotionally tortured
, their opinion would radically differ.

the problem with the human race is that the narcissism displayed
among almost all adolescents is never replaced with a more
mature and loving behavior of an adult...that is to say
, people virtually never seem to grow up and behold a world
where they are no longer the center...where other people
are just as important as they are.

the ''complete'' and loving human being is one that responds
to the next individual in a way that embraces and protects
their emotions...they are not simply there to meet giant
unfulfilled needs that have probably never been fully realized...there
aint no fucking games going on...people are seen as too
precious to be manipulated for any type of gratification.

i think the reason why we are all so nauseated by cannibalism
is because that is exactly what we all are on one level
or another...we may not eat the flesh of others...but we
gain power , reputation and even sexual release as a result
of their exploitation...most see others as existing for
their benefit...and the concept of being compassionate...
really embraced .

as usual...i ate and drank until i couldnt eat and drink
any more...then i took the remaining chicken and hid it
in the basement freezer...it was good chicken...and most
of it was eaten...just like most of our souls...by others
for some purpose that may not even be known to the consumers...and
if part of me is in your stomach...i hope i give you the
shits.

chapter 40

speaking of narcissism...the two young lads that i traveled
to this beautiful little town with , left to meet their
parents in switzerland...the parents were so glad that they
were traveling with a minister...probably because they knew
that nobody can drink like a clergyman...and , surely ,
i could give the kids a few good lessons on how to hold
ones booze .

personally , i believe that the reason why people dont heal
, mend and grow is because they dont want to...they are
more than happy to justify themselves and even blame others
for their immaturity and even retardation...specifically
in the west...where people have so much money , they can
cushion themselves from the brutality and the transparency
of raw human relationships .

imagine growing up in a situation where you cant turn on
the tele and , in doing so , avoid dealing with the other
members of your family...or sharing a bedroom with your
five brothers and three sisters...and , therefore , not
being able to hide the fact you are a compulsive masturbator...not
even being allowed to feel that what you are doing is unnatural...how
could you when both humor and a casual atmosphere are interjected
into the situation...imagine not having things to constantly
maintain...therefore , not being allowed to have excuses
for not loving your family properly .

did god give''the west''money to bless or curse us??? what
wealth has done is to allow us to actualize the perversions
within our hearts...giving them substance so we see what
actually is important to us.

it was the rich young man in the bible who refused to follow
jesus...he probably would have followed him if he hadnt
been wealthy...what could have been a wonderful gift , then
became a curse...separating him from the essence of love.

never look down on the poor...maybe god is blessing them...loving
them too much to even give them the chance to fuck life
up and throw away the eternal secret of joy and peace...shit
, at the very least...it is the poor that have the possibility
of relationship with each other...it is either that or watch
the cockroaches run across the floor all day...and that
has never entertained me for more that two or three hours
at a time.

chapter 41

it was also on the foothills of the alps that i met scott
and nicholle...two young yanks , engaged to be married...hardly
ever having sexual intercourse in public fountains...truly
of great moral character .

scott climbed cliffs for enjoyment...i would have rather
taken the stairs...but what the fuck...if i were to hurt
myself...all the more excuse to get all the more drunk in
the drunken party , come night fall...(though it seems
quite obvious that you really dont need an excuse to get
drunk at an event that refers to itself as the ''drunken
party '') .

climbing cliffs is a lot like life...the higher you get
, the longer down the fall...its so unfair , really...to
extend yourself and to deeply love in life means that you
are screwed if it does not work...and if you totally lose
yourself in another...you may very well get killed .
there is no rope to hold you in life...god may love you
but he sure as hell isnt offering any promises that love
will work out fine...i mean , jesus loved with the most
profound and intense love possible...and they hated him
for it...his reward was being crucified and publicly humiliated .

i really think that the resolution for the problem that
is before us has more to do with what we believe as humans
rather than in the actual events that can happen within
the context of real unabated passionate love, be it sexual
or otherwise...that is, it is just quite possible that our
sanity , our happiness and our place in society are not
nearly as important as the love we make with each other
, regardless of the end results...or , in other words...all
that really matters is love...all else ultimately , is
shit.

secondly , i believe that life is a profoundly subjective
experience...maybe the joy that a moment of true caring
can bring is far more enjoyable than silver and gold eternally...the
fact of the matter is that we dont even know if seventy
years on earth is the same among various individuals...maybe
suffering an entire life for the experience of one minute
of pure unblemished love is far more rich and, in fact ,
even longer than living for a thousand years in the florida
keys , with all the fried chicken and sex that you can eat...maybe
true love is such a transcending thing that all who have
embraced it will never feel empty inside...therefore making
their time on earth of eternal value in virtually all respects
beside the physical death that inevitably visits us all.

the problem with our perception of life and such is that
, if there is some type of spiritual world out there...we
are simply fucked in terms of having any ability to see
it...the physical eye sight that we possess is obviously
not adequate to see such things...we are , as jesus said ,
blind .

no one really knows what is going on in terms of love and
such things...most people believe , essentially , that love
is no more than getting a hard-on...they just wont admit
it using such terms...hence , the human race is retarded
regarding the knowledge of a universe consisting of things
that transcend emotions , intellect and physical properties .

trust me...there is shit that we dont understand...and it
all has this one thing in common...it is disguising its
self from us...in fact , this dimension is more mirrors
than any thing else...for some reason , we are to be hidden
from the real truth...it is sought after , however , by
those of a certain character...the kind who lust after eternity...the
kind who only drink imported beer...and though they dont
have sex in public fountains-its against the law-they certainly
would like to.

maybe there is a devil...frig , why not???if love can really
blow your fucking mind away for the rest of eternity...and
it is no more desired than the out takes from the second
album of the "village people"...then maybe , at the very least
, we should start considering possibilities beside those
that have been considered for ages...they dont seem to be
helping .