Thursday, April 28, 2005

the wheel

this thing is starting to replace my notebook. thats bad. i was sitting here thinking i should babble in my notebook for a little while to pass the time. then realized that i could type faster and my handwriting is ugly, and if i wrote anything worthwhile (like nothing on this page so far) i would just have to type it out anyway.
its the way of things.
also having discovered how to paint in photoshop i fear i will never draw on paper again. how can this be happening to me? but there are SO MANY COLORS and neat tricks and things. I am shamed to show the picture that i spent A WEEK creating in paint, first on the ancient compusaurus at my work, then took home to my slightly over the hill machine and had to completely redo because of the higher resolution. THEN took that into photoshop to try to insert something and tried out the airbrush from there on it.
im gonna have to redo it all again, dammit.
i need a stylus so the mouse doesnt make my hand go numb anymore, too. did you catch that, god? (hey it works for some) yes this is me, the antitech, speaking.
all this and i haven’t even got my music setup yet. will i ever leave my house again when that happens? good thing i love my bike too.
there are a damn lot of things to love right now actually. as much as, for the last 3 days, I have wanted to burn down the world for being an irritation to me (that’s the weather and pms talking) i feel really blessed. i tend to surround myself with really excellent people (recent bad judgement calls aside) who care a lot about me and actively support my wellbeing. right now i am acutely aware of their presence.
i have overcome several years worth of fear and resentment and curdled love to in order to heal a rift between myself and an important person from my past. it is going well. this required me to shed an old skin, serpentlike. i continue to revel in the feel of newness and rejuvenation such a lightening creates.
my lost friend was seen recently early in the morning with a vanload of crackheads. while I am done fretting about him and feeling responsible, i continue to be saddened by what happened, what is apparently still happening. it makes me wonder if I could fall in similar fashion. not to drugs, which have never been a big problem for me, but self destructive inclinations to which I have succumbed in the past. this severely damaged my life. my sanity, my security, my self image, trashed, by my own actions and things I allowed to be done to me. it only takes one act of bad judgment sometimes to put you in a place where your decision making becomes progressively more flawed. could I go there again? i always thought that he was firmly on the other side of all that. he had everything, and the ability to build what he chose. he chose to destroy instead, and i know that sometimes i have chosen the same. can i be trusted with a good life?
i feel that people who have creative gifts have a responsibility to put them to use. i have more of them than is good for me, which has sometimes resulted in an implosion of sorts, which renders me artistically incapacitated for long periods. the frustration and pressure of making can engender a great longing to say fuckit and trash all.
i can always make something else out of the pieces.
its all part of the same cycle anyway, but there is destruction and there is slow rot, which is the way drug addiction ruins. i prefer a nice clean lightning bolt any day.
do you hear that out there through that burning fog? enjoy your crack, your whore and your new "friends". you wont see me go down like that.


still watching

Monday, April 25, 2005

Spiritual Activism

Somewhere, something really bad is happening to someone.
The subject of spirituality and personal ethics arose recently in conversation. Specifically, which of the world’s problems are ones own personal problems. I babbled unfocusedly on this as I am prone to, then got sidetracked. I have more to say.
There are astounding acts of cruelty and unfairness taking place all the time. Humans are selfish, shortsighted, manipulative, dishonest, and lazy. There are so many manifestations of evil in the world that, not only is it impossible to actively care about them all, it is impossible to even know of them all. Sweat shop kids in Korea are no less downtrodden than the poor in Calcutta, or burqua swathed Afghani women. Cattle bred for slaughter are as alive as any endangered creature in a shrinking rainforest or polluted lake. There is rape, murder, oppression, slavery, disaster and disease. There are so many people who don’t care at all.
I find it is very easy to rant about all the shitty things too far away to act on. If I cant be bothered to clean my room most of the time, environmental activism seems well beyond me. That’s no reason not to do it, if I really care about the issue. You have to start with what you CAN do, and what you want to do.
There are children living in poverty and abuse right next door. There is litter in the street. There is ignorance and illiteracy rampant in a country where education is our right. There is Starbucks. There are people right next to you going through personal hell. There are things we as individuals can do about this, (except Starbucks, there’s no stopping those fuckers) if we really care.
One can contribute to the betterment of the world, starting within oneself, cleaning up the mental pollution, the negative conditioning, the self directed cruelty which warps how we approach our world. How can we love anything, even distantly, if we hate ourselves? How can we heal another if we ache? How can we even know what caring IS if we do not care properly for ourselves?
Humans are creative, inventive, conscious, intelligent and strong. There are so many manifestations of intentional beauty that it is impossible to understand why we fixate so on ugliness. Beauty, love and service come from within the self, and must be honored as part of the self. Just as we cannot separate ourselves from responsibility for our acts of damage, so we must acknowledge the good that we do, and the place from which it springs, which is the soul.
It spreads out from the center, but it has to start there.
the outer world is a reflection of the inner, is created there. If we beautify and care for the inner, it will infuse and enrich our actions in the outer, influencing those around you, thus increasing the overall amount of beauty and good in totality. It is not the individual causes that matter so much as the doing, and the consciousness.
The universe is a complicated tapestry being woven moment by moment, and ALL things contribute to the pattern being created. The powers of creation have none of these mortal ideas of good and bad, and destruction serves a purpose also. Your contibution to the weave will be determined by the inclinations of your heart. This is what spirituality is really about to me, untangling the mess of confusion and being who you really are, doing truly as you will, and not allowing that to be buried under fear. There is great beauty beneath it all, when we have unveiled our truth, and only from the place of truth is true love possible, and only in love is worthwhile action possible.
Wow, this is very long. I can write a lot more sitting at work all day than i ever can on my own time, does it show? Sorry for the lecture. Here it is in haiku!
give without thinking
payback takes care of itself
loving is action

Saturday, April 23, 2005

nothingnever

Invisible web
Woven between many stars
Spider by moonlight

Yesterday a customer said to me “may your weekend be more than you are expecting”.
I thought that was a hell of a blessing. The guy behind him in line thought so too, and wished it on me a second time. So twice what I am expecting at least. The only question left is, what do I expect? This is a bizarre time, and it can only get weirder. After swearing off hallucinogens forevermore I have decided to take another journey into acidland. I am totally lame at keeping vows of neverforevermore, I should stop and never do it again. That which I seek to avoid comes after me always. It is only when I finally surrender and embrace it that it flees.
The moon is staring at me all the time. She demands my attention even when I cannot see her. The colors in my head are silver and blue. Artemis whispers the secrets of chastity, self containment, the power that accumulates when you belong only to you. (I am no ones chick!) The full is on Sunday, when I will be wandering the valleys of the excited subconscious accompanied by a beloved former archnemesis of mine.
Question; is that a good idea? Answer; I dont know.
I am in a place which I have tried to reach more than once, nearly attained, and then sabotaged somehow. I have never had a stronger sense of creative possibility. I kind of really love my life right now. I have just seen someone sabotage themselves in a way that left me shaken, but as I emerge from this state I see with new eyes a world that is too much for so many people that it is commonly believed not to exist at all. It is enough for me that I know it is there. I am content to be queen of nothing. Until...

Thursday, April 21, 2005

why i am single at this time

i am like the worlds worst blogger. youd think id be the best. i lead a life that really should be written about. the trouble being, i am way too busy living it to write about it. right now i am procrastinating housework, so time to catch up.
my sister asked me yesterday "why have you wasted so much of your life on love? men are such fucks." leave it to miss s the younger to put her finger on the real question. why?
being a priestess of isis in her guise as hathor, who is also aphrodite, bestows a certain fatal irresistability. the dark powers of cybele are mine also. what all these ladies have in common is the dismemberment/mutilation of the males in their lives. aphrodite was born when the severed testicles of uranus were thrown into the sea and the blood and sperm mixed with seafoam. i think i mixed up the greek and roman versions there but whatever. osiris was murdered and hacked to pieces, which isis reassembled to try to resurrect him, but his penis was eaten by a fish and never found. cybele pursued attis in her desire until he went mad and castrated himself, bleeding to death on the mountainside.
never directly responsible for the rampant destruction around me, i am a dangerous companion nonetheless. i seek a god on whom to bestow my favors, but gods tend to get sacrificed in the old stories, whereas the goddess is eternal...
perhaps this is why i dont often write in this thing. sorry guys.
i have discovered that computers can do way cool things, or rather, that i can do way cool things with them. not in fact the the succubus-like monsters i once believed them to be. i want to give mine a hug right now and never leave it's side and love it forever......... seriously though, i have discovered a huge world of artistic possibility and i feel kind of overwhelmed by it all. my dreams are in vivid color since i began to realise these things.
here is a haiku about the last time i saw my lost friend.

in the drivers seat
harlot giggles in triumph
red lights in the dark

what frightened and upset me me most about that girl was my kinship to her. he was on her leash but i felt an obscure relief that he had someone to take care of him. i felt a strange kind of sisterhood there. what i know of the situation makes me sick, but what i sense about it is vaguely comforting. is that so? i think perhaps he needed to be on a leash, but i could not do it. it sounds strange to say that after the beginning of this post, but it is so. too bad shes a crackwhore, and has destroyed everything good about his life, or i could be happy for him that he had found someone, even though she was a cunt to me.
i think i am getting to dig this blog thing now. though perhaps i shouldnt write in the morning when my censors havent started up yet. have a beautiful day everyone!!! dont think about severed genitalia!

Sunday, April 17, 2005

early morning jolt
anxiety my bedmate
snuggling up close

fuck, the japanese are brilliant to come up with a poetic form that forces creative impressionism through a strictly minimal formula. i have written like 30 of these in the last week. much of what is happening is too overwhelming to write the big grandiose pieces i have been into lately. it seems obscene somehow to try to make art out of pain this fresh and immediate, like getting tarted up to go to a funeral. no, a hospital. i will not think funeral yet. anyway obscene or not, its how i cope. 17 syllables isnt too much to ask of tragedy.

lost to living death
whores jewels flash seductively
no will to resist

Saturday, April 16, 2005

haiku from the edge

all things turn around
no such thing as permanence
winter into spring

welcome to another in a series of many capitulations, many reachings out, many unveilings, beginning now. everything has changed. i expect everything to change, and drastically, but am always shocked when it happens in accordance with my will. my will which is never entirely clear to me except in hindsight. shamed as well, since so often its fulfillment requires a cold surety that i have only ever been able to fake.
i have a blog which i barely use anyway, and now create another, purely for those few, very few indeed, who cannot access it. energy feeds on itself, on its intereractions with those of like mind and soul. i have written several books worth of stuff never to be read by anyone, which is just as well, since they suck. this will likely suck too, but thats not really my problem. time to speak up, even if i got nothing to say. you can only get the answers if you ask the questions.

radiation spreads
it can only get weirder
warping of the real

haiku can express
a difficult idea
very concisely

please remember you asked for it. yes, you.