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 feelngs...maybe the gospel message is
simple 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 .
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Nine
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.
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.
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Eight
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???
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???
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Seven
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 .
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 .
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Six
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
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
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Five
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.
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.
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Four
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 .
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 .
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Three
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.
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.
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-Two
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 .
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 .
Bastard Windows: Chapter Twenty-One
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).
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).
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