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.
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???
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.
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".
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 .
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 .
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
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.
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 .
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 .
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