| let's make our way to shangri-la |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:23 am] |
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many minds have sat and paid unfeasible amounts of sand, equivalent to all earths beaches combined, to the hourglass searching for tranquility. i believe the souls that wish to find it should rightly have it placed before them. from what i have gained like a snowball moving torwards a prudent decline, the hours of labor that was put into the silver lining to which has been produced by the many fragments of space can somehow take years to reach our little tenticles. one day we shall grow six more arms, another eye and wear leaves and feathers. |
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| press your palette to the changing winds: a story of two |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:22 am] |
there was once a great wind that caught sound off of a jet airliner and like a thunderous blast from a sacred gong the sky split into thirds. when the sleek chrome polished turbines created the schism within the slow whirlwind of the tempest, the hawks found themselves drifting further from the clouds. thus causing great fright within the flock. swinging close by were the geese from their southern most states. being as they were the first of their species whom were forced to grasp the savage and relentless brutality of their mother nature, this mama was about to make acquaintances with a little papa, maybe even a couple.
in other vectors of the earth's hemisphere off the coast of a small japanese city, many feet below sea level, we stumble upon two friends whom had known eachother for many years past. a multi-appendaged junior giant squid who was to be given the title Leroy and an overzealous, eightlegged octopus whom came conceived as a Rosie.though it only took days for the two to mache their way onto a current that set their souls into an ever and always ascending direction. conjoined by the spirit in the night and through the fish that caught waves as if they were snowflakes congregating on a windshield.many great adventures awaited the two river of the swan. |
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| she said: i spun this web for us |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:22 am] |
and so i recoiled my spine like a strand of twine,
oh how quickly i came undone.
her words crushed me like stiletto's through these ever-so-delicately quilted fabrics.
i mentioned i came from the depths of the marshes,
how the birds fluttered their wings merely on the trembling of her lips.
how venom spews straight from her hips,
like serum on your wounds please tell her you love her.
her celtic vibrations carried throughout the night and rang like cathedral bells in the arctic.
her legs cripple your eyes, and her thighs, oh her thighs are like two railroad ties pinning you to the ground without a sound and the last thing you see are her two lips biting down.
tell this widow to lighten up or else she is to be confused with another shadow in the night.
and when i froze at first sight of her pales she still wouldn't believe me.
she said "this world isn't big enough for the two of us, so stop making those beads underneath your eyelids where i can't taste them."
{for the tears that fled from our cheeks, down beneath the lenses of our peepers, we postmark what we can and mail it to the sea keepers.}
[and for our kindness we recieve, a temporary bandage for the scratch.]
.... much like a gash and sniff on your heart what you smell are the emotions you peeled away....
you were so eager to see what was within your onion, you forgot your manners and just left the whole produce section to compost.
in the heap of the battle leaves floated down off branches to comfort you in the night like a blanket. too bad nature never learned to knit. she could heal your wings in a color undefined. |
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| can we live just under the surface? |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:21 am] |
why must this compass only satisfy the cardnal directions?
we shall venture up and down.
tuck the sun into a northern slumber. revive the morning light just below the equator.
all of this is just a word from a mouth.
from dusk til dawn, we wont forget you.
oh how we lack the ability to forget our heroes.
shine your knowledge through my frontal lobes and cleanse what i ran down.
captivated and forlorn these threads lie in shambles.
oh mother how i long for your breeze that can please my sensory projectors.
tell me what i must learn today.
and why are my appendages so cold?
dont let the frost coagulate this state of being i am engulfed in.
i love it far to much for another to abandon it.
cross legged and content like an fatally wounded insect, i reside far from the shackles that bind the mind from progressing down the roadway that leads to nowhere.
when i found a sublinear compass i flew by night underneath the headlight of an oncoming disaster.
screeching torward the cliffs of desire i hit reverse and set the hillside on fire.
thanks i gave that night belong to the spires.
stable and able to make this fable a reality unhindered by distraction.
i seek nothing more than a hand-woven bridge to cross. |
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| the essence of a meaning |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:20 am] |
choregraphed like the flower that perpetually blossoms, the sound radiates like an echo in a cavern.
i crept in like a beetle in the sand, never winning, yet still i am betting ten grand.
so ten thousand years past and still i see only a list of calls disconnected,
in pieces there also lies a handful emotions left for: neglected.
"where will they fly at night?" a young girl whispers.
"to the heavens, to the churches, and alas to the tallest of the Birches!"
her mother cries out.
and so the weaver of dreams careens herself into another web.
this one much wider and taller than the past.
so she climbs and she climbs and still the threads develop minds.
they pull this way and that, much like the sight of a bat.
she see's, nor know's not where she is going.
these times are fierce and so is the weather.
and so a time comes when one must knit a sweater.
not one of material thoughts, but rather that of ethereal plots.
you see she need not dress for warmth, for what she needs is a bigger heart.
she must start building from the inside out, to truly see what life is about.
constantly at search for a love forever lost.
the window was left down and so it was tossed.
like a sparrow smitten who can say what will be and what once was.
a clouded memory mists all the windows that are to be viewed. |
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| cantelopes and slow cardiac transitions |
[Mar. 29th, 2007|01:19 am] |
a scissor split, now we find blades in out aortas.
we tried to compromise the situation with cyanide and copulation,
but nothing seemed to satisfy these primative functions.
i checked to see if she was still breathing and she was just blinking.
my foresights collapsed like fallen angels.
thoughts so farfetched that they might as well be buried with her.
daydreams of dandelions and truth through penance.
we reconcile what it was we could comprehend.
i am sorry i don't feel much like sympathizing tonight.
perhaps tomorrow when the sun rises i can teach you to open your heart.
to let it grow strong like a lotus in a city-wide tsunami apocolyptic-like situation.
i will keep hope and we can float through this.
to help teach you to walk with the spirits of the elephants,
you must first find strength through the connotations of nature.
there are logs to quail inside of.
once you're within the moss encompassed cages:
you may become cold,
you may feel your spirit quivering,
and you will become susceptible to pauperism.
once you amount to these standards i shall come down like a pouring rain, consume your earthly anatomy, whisk out the darkened yokes that plagued your generous being and leave you ivory and pure.
like two tusks i will mache you a pair of wings. constructed of leaves,branches,switches, and mud. need not you worry about the color of the mud for it is like a medium that can easily be altered. we need not fear the murky waters for they are the deliverance of balance. |
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| these webs resemble a staircase with no railing. |
[Jul. 4th, 2006|12:36 pm] |
according to greek mythology there are these three sisters known as The FATES or Moirae. There was Clotho who spins the thread, Lachesis who decides how long it is, and Atropos who cuts it. think of these oracles as spiders and that the webs unto which they weave are perhaps the nets to where no matter the destination we fall into they catch us. seeing as they are the ones who control our destinies and every move you make is woven into this web. as we climb these stairs we often climb so high and sometimes run so fast that when we fall so hard the web breaks and there we lay curled up, helpless, caught red handed in the field of rushes, reaping what is was that we had sown. being as we were all given the privilege of free will we can play the apportioner as we draw ever close to the inevitable. with each passing day our souls stumble across these wandering events and they are then soiled within our minds. what happened to us yesterday quite possibly happens to another miles from where our coordinates lie. presuming that everyday we ride this ferriswheel, everyday partaking in this circle of events, everyday rolling just a little further through the carnival until we reach the next city. we ride as if this ferris-wheel was just a rock rolling down a hill waiting for a level plain to stroll across. enjoying the ride is the best mindset one can be in. many rocks seem to roll down hills not paying attention to which direction they roll in. they tend to find themselves falling even faster and without as much friction, perhaps like they have been given wings and are soaring, skipping further down the roadway. as to where others misinterpret this feeling of ecstasy and when they open their eyes see that they are not floating and are actually descending, they crash into the shorelines furthest from the divine beaches unto so many wish to walk upon. like the many waves crashing against the rocks that form the foundation of a lighthouse so many feelings, so many unforeseen events come our ways. one day we will have lighthouses that no longer have revolving bulbs but perhaps ones that shine light forth in every direction gracing ever reachable surface with light. allowing whatever ships that pass seeking refuge will we recognized and understood for the light helps to show the true colors and no longer allows light to be separate from dark, but yet for a gray area to be more cream than anything else. for white is the purest of pure and black is just a color made for definition and to help with developing more perspectives allowing greater understanding. for white is still an impressionable color taking on the attributes of whatever passes through it. like a white cloth being drug across the desert, through a rainforest, across the mountains, and into a sidewalk art gallery caught in the rain without tents and without deference. |
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| i have got a feeling, a feeling deep inside... |
[Jun. 8th, 2006|10:23 am] |
why is it that when our heart desires something and we cannot predict the outcome many people find answers in the emotion fear? why do people take less risks when attempting to love? why is that we cannot see ourselves for what we were created as? the best advice i have taken when dealing with situations like this is that "when i find myself in times of trouble, mother mary comes to me speaking words of wisdom." there is also a lyric that follows shortly after that, one that is more powerful. for i believe that we have a path to which we can follow and one which will lead us to excellence. "in my hour of darkness she is standing right there in front of me...but when the broken hearted people are living in the world of grief there will be an answer, for though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see... let it be" i find myself rarely dreaming and so when i do it is usually because i am feeling extremely strong about a particular event that is going on and so i begin to visualize my feelings.
i have seen the sunshine, i chased it over the hills and to the river and now i am treading water..this river is quite high this season and the current is strong. i guess i am just going to float down the river and hope i find myself on a nice sandy beach to rest on, if not, well shitty mc shit, that is life and i will just deal with it because there are so many adventures to embark upon. either way i will make it to the otherside because that was where i wanted to go. hopefully there is a field i can run through, though things would be easier if the sun just hung out on the shore with me. nothing in life that is worth fighting for is ever just handed to you. the best things in life you have to wait for. just make sure you are waiting in the right line, the last thing you wanna do is get to the counter and have one more item than the limit. |
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| i would like to bring the balance back. |
[May. 31st, 2006|11:52 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | in a bundle of love | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | decent | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the blues mai brothas and sistas | ] |
i have a disposition for convoying good feelings across a dismaled territory. unfortunately if feels like sometimes the tires of this vehicle seem to get stuck in the trenches that were dug by those who fled at the first sound of gunfire. though all is fair in love and war, there seem to be many unwritten rules in both. rules that seem less like organized guidelines and more like lessons taught by mouth and carried down through many generations, so far down that they have strayed from there original context and meaning. when one word is spoken and an action ceases to follow that spoken word a leash has been severed. the one possesing the leash and the one trapped by it are one in the same. the heart should be the one holding the leash for it is one whose flesh surrounds that tiny vessel that is truly meek. |
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| life has many crossroads unto which many decisions are to be made and with great results come the qu |
[May. 18th, 2006|01:19 am] |
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so many new paths to take. so many decisions left undecided. what can become of a town where all the residents melt in the air. just the possibility of anything ever being what it is/was/can be capable of being never residing in history brings a tear to the eyes of the righteous. for when good ideas that are ready to be established and followed out for the soul purpose being that, that is good in humankind. results should carry with them many great new and excellent actions beneficial to the karmic balance of those who seek it. love and compassion ease the soul of even those whose dreams are unknown and fear is shown in their unconscious actions. wisdom is set out for all, but only those who seek it shall find it. it is possible to stumble across it, yet for the knowledge to be useful and helpful one must act and seek knowledge. one who picks berries from trees and bushes and plans for a later use, yet opts to eat them hastily, finds that there is further berries to be picked. yet one also sees that a hunger has been satisfied but it is one that breaches on the occasion that it is essential for the well-being that is proclaimed by and for few. the chords played from a sitar in rainforests for those who dine by candle light and lightning followed by thunder and rain see beauty in rain drops and bent foliage. in a land where... |
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| i need me an indian beauty. |
[May. 9th, 2006|02:15 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | spiritually awake. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | a Janmashtami song | ] |
"life on Earth is but a fleeting illusion edged between lives past and future beyond physical mortal reality." - George Harrison. |
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| i think we all should become astronomers. |
[May. 7th, 2006|12:40 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | like whoa dude. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bob marley | ] |
“After Thirteen Heavens of Decreasing Choice, and Nine Hells of Increasing Doom, the Tree of Life shall blossom with a fruit never before known in the creation, and that fruit shall be the New Spirit of Men.”
In the mythology of the Aztecs, the first age of mankind ended with the animals devouring humans. The second age was finished by wind, the third by fire, and the fourth by water. The present fifth epoch is called Nahui-Olin (Sun of Earthquake), which began in 3113 BC and will end on December 24, 2011.
The Mayan calendar is divided into Seven Ages of Man. The fourth epoch ended in August 1987. The Mayan calendar comes to an end on Sunday, December 23, 2012. Only a few people will survive the catastrophe that ensues. In the fifth age, humanity will realize its spiritual destiny. In the sixth age, we will realize God within ourselves, and in the seventh age we will become so spiritual that we will be telepathic. |
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| it is a truism of science... |
[May. 2nd, 2006|10:32 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | lemondrops | ] |
| [ | music |
| | rainmakers | ] |
the only way to really know the world is to reconstruct it: That is in order to really understand what causes what, we must do more than simply observe.
i agree with this whole heartedly.
and it is said that: "Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves."
peace to all my brothers and sisters. |
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| who had a birthday yesterday? happy birthday! |
[Apr. 21st, 2006|12:30 pm] |
okay so to say the least it was the world's birthday yesterday and i think everyone who was aware of it rode the airwaves like they knew how to hang glide. all in all yesterday was an excellent day. but like any other day it is just one day. so one great day, put in a line carefully placed within a million equally and potentially 'great' days.. i say we have more days like yesterday. the world needs to bring yesterday to the present and be able to keep one eye and many minds open to the fact that tomorrow is like today just pushed back because too much good on one side causes an imbalance. and everyone just wants balance.
"hey guy's you all wanna be tap dancing, stilt-wearin', juxtaposin' syncronised swimming tadpoles don't yah?"
so come on find your balance and break it down into single servings three times a day. those are just the essentials. there is always time for a brunch, multiple snacks, pre-dinner, post dinner, dessert...fuckin who cares do it all. and do it all with one nostril. no coca leaves dust, just oxygen and the smell of good indoor, outdoor, cabinets..everything.
ATTENTION EVERYONE!!!!!!
i am an herbevore. i like dinosaur's and they like me because we have things in common. we like to devour only the best herb's.
who wants's to be a dinosaur with me? |
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| my night moves were calculated with decimals |
[Mar. 8th, 2006|05:28 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | there are wonderful people | ] |
| [ | music |
| | q and not u | ] |
there is life on mars and every entity there plays the piano to the comets that wail through the galaxy. those comets then carry that tune and deliver it to the entire universe.
go comets!!!!
if anyone knows if that was the name of the dog from full house tell me, i have to keep getting ready for work so i dont know, but i am pretty damn sure it is. i will love you times a million if you know.
much love to all my/the dude bro's! |
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| i think sometimes people do not understand me therefore here i will help you out by using the stars. |
[Mar. 6th, 2006|05:23 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | something similar to madonna.. | ] |
| [ | music |
| | neil young | ] |
Section 1: How You Approach Life and How You Appear To Others
Modest, unobtrusive, and often rather quiet or shy, you are a person who is content to be in the background or to serve as an assistant, in the supporting role rather than in the lead. You are quite humble in your own assessment of yourself and you have a very strong perfectionistic attitude, with a tendency to be overly self-critical. No matter how well you do something, you always see the flaws in it and how it could be improved. Often you will simply refuse to attempt something because you feel you cannot meet your own high standards. Find out more with your full-length reading...
Section 2: The Inner You: Your Real Motivation
Proud and intensely individual, you really want to stand out, to be the very best you can be, and to be recognized and appreciated for your unique contributions. Doing something well and being respected for it is extremely important to you, and you cannot tolerate being in the background, taking orders from others, or being "just one of the team". You must put your personal stamp on whatever you do, and direct your own course in life. You need to have a place where you can shine, express yourself creatively, and be the one in charge.
this is about 93.7 percent true. i could care less what the majority of this civilizations residents think, i just care what one person thinks.
legends of the madonna...read it!
same with acid rain |
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| i guess i feel like being a weenis. hella snausage style dawg..get it "bark bark" |
[Mar. 6th, 2006|02:53 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | like a puzzle with no border | ] |
| [ | music |
| | i guess the birds chirping | ] |
okay so this evening i went out for a walk and looked for answers where i figured they would best sought after. in between two trees that could possibly resemble a wooden hammock.staring at the bark i saw a shape i thought could resemble an antelope.so i helped make it into one. i heard birds chirping and thought about the song "blackbird" by the beatles and so i put that on, listened to it, and then remembered the reason why i have a tattoo of lennon on my arm and the quote i am getting tattooed around it. the quote "take these broken wings and learn to fly" i have always liked those lyrics.for one reason or another they apply to difficult situations i find myself caught up in. like a bird i once helped nurture back to a healthy flying state with my mother when i was young, you have to take all the less fortunate events that occur in your life and mold them into something that is more fathomable. you can learn from your mistakes and carry yourself further in life by simply rebuilding yourself to standards which you desire.i also couldnt help but think about what my life is going to be like when i find the perfect girl. one that is willing to get lost and could care less if they come back but still has the drive and inhibitions to want to stay in reality for they have all the right answers to lifes wierdest questions, one who when shit gets rough will be there with the water wings while i paddle our asses out of harms way.one who even if they are scared shitless will know that i will be right there to catch them and hold them tight when the world just wants to let them fall into a mud puddle.i just want a fucking chill girl who likes chill music and doesnt just wanna do drugs to get fucked up but to open there minds to new possibilities and see that there are possibly other dimensions where what you say doesnt necessarily have to make sense, where even mumbled jumbles make sense, a place where you can stare of into the clouds for hours and just let your eyes do all the work so you can let your mind catch up later because everything is so fast paced that it feels like time would be better spent observing all the beauty life offers and then when the tide has gone and all is hollowed out there is still a place where structure lies in a condensed light because somehow the stars have aligned perfectly to where when light rays travel through the sky it feels as though the world should crumble because the weight of everything that there ever was overpowers all the negative aspects portray in life.
in the few days i have spent in a treetop town it feels like i have reached total nirvana yet it is dangled in front of my face simply because lifes greatest gifts are the ones where you have to wait to receive them.life is like christmas when the day finally comes you got the gifts and then you get suprised with a stocking and fresh cinnamon rolls. i hope christmas comes just in time for the new year. because i am sick of waiting yet i will do it anyways because its part of beinging in the spirit and free spirits are great for chasing around lifes backroads. |
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| i am a lumberjack now. |
[Feb. 24th, 2006|08:01 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | rugged | ] |
| [ | music |
| | birds and wolves | ] |
for the past two days i, Zolin Rutabaga(leader of Quail's) and my partner Zigor Vamoose(punisher of trees)and our pet sloth Niggles have set out on three decade expedition through the Great Northwest of the America's. we will be documenting our journey through this rugged terrain and there will be updates in the near future. |
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the_ottoman_fur's journal