Dumb

   Watching track and field on tv is good. It is exciting to see the test their best. They focus on the goal and give it everything they've got, making us feel like we are there and that we are the entrants. As they run around the field we see their form, the way they hold their bodies moving their arms and legs smoothly. Leo Monzano, the smallest person on the track, beating legs, the other runners had twice or it seemed like twice the length of leg than he, and he, as he said, "it was a struggle".

  When the race was completed, without giving the guy a chance to breathe, some announcer was in his face, expecting conversation. The guy, Leo(the lion) gasping for air, gasping between words. You see his chest heaving as his lungs grasped every breath to reguveniate his lungs and body with oxygen. The question is: Why must the news media force themselves on entrants at the end of a race or competition, and not give the athlete an opportunity to compose themselves. Why don't they interview them after a shower, when they are capable of communicating. Especially getting ready for olympic competition, these people should have the right to take care of themselves first, then, give more of their time, to their fans. Is it not enought to watch these people compete, stripped to the barest, and tested to the limit, then sweating, sucking in fuel to restore themselves, and then, with camera and interviewer stuck in their face. How about a little respect, or regard. Let them do their job, keeping themselves safe is part of their job, after competing give them some room, to ponder their performance, to get their breath.

  Or, does the media want us to see how much of the individual has been spent in competition, do they want us to see the bodies struggle to repair and replace its self. To see the muscles expand and contract into normal mode. Like when the runner with a face that is poised to exhaustion with overhelming pain as the legs collapse and the runner drops to the floor crying in pain as the muscles become rigid. What do they want? 

wHY

Why do you not have pride in what you are doing?It's a dumb job.
Why don't you quit?
I need the money.
Then why don't you do a good job?
I just mow the dumb lawn.
But, why do you not take pride in what you are doing?
I want to do something else.
So why don't you do something else?
There are no other jobs, this is the only thing I could get.
Then why do you spend your time doing a mediocre job?
They don't pay me enough.
So you are doing a job you do not like, for less money than you think the job is worth, and you are doing a lousy job of it.
Yeah, so what of it?
Should you not be doing a good job of it, mowing the lawn.
Why?
Because you said you would.
No I didn't. I just said I would mow.
OK, then, why do you spend your time making garbage?
What do you mean garbage, I'm mowing the lawn.
Yeah, but you are missing plenty of spots.
So, what if I am.
So, how does that make you feel about yourself?
Fine, how else should I feel about myself?
Cheap for one.
Who you calling cheap?
I didn't call you cheap, I just said you should feel cheap because you are not doing your best.
How do you know I am not doing my best?
You do not look like you feel good about yourself.
Me? I feel fine.
Oh, you like wasting your time doing less than your best, letting people see how little you think of yourself by not doing your very best all the time. If you always spend your time doing less than your best you get into the habit of doing less than your best and become sloppy all the time.
Says who?
Look in the mirror, see your hair is a mess and your shirt has stains on it.
I am mowing the lawn, I get dirty mowing the lawn.
If you say so.
Hey, what is it to you anyway?
I don't like to see a lawn that is not kept well, it offends my sense of art and beauty.
You're crazy.
If you say so. But, I do not have the look on my face that you have. And I can look everyone in the eye. You have not looked me in the eye. You can not look me in the eye. You must be hiding something or are ashamed. I am at peace with myself, I feel good about myself and I do my best all that time. I have no regrets about my day, and am pleased about how I spend the little time I have. If you think about it, all you have is time, and how you spend the time you have, is all you have to feel good about yourself. If you do less than your best you are cheating yourself.
What are you talking about?
Time is all you have. As the days go by and the time you have had begins to add up you look back on the years and ask yourself, what have I done with the time I have had. Have I made the most of my days, have I done my best, can I  say I have done every thing I wanted to do? Have I done everything I could do? Can I look myself in the eye and say I have not wasted any of my time and with what I have been given I have done as much as I could have done. Without all the ifs; if I had a better education, if I had money, if i was better looking etc.
With eveytHing I have I have done the most and the best I can do. Maybe for some it is not good enough, but for me, I have done my very best all the time, and that is all I can ever do.
You're CRAZY!

gone

   Gone are the days of investment. The days when corporations sunk dollars into research and development, when discovery was the goal of every board. Derivatives, the tool advertised on wall street to skim money from the investment arena has changed the weather in the world. No one saves for a rainy day or tomorrow or the new toaster given away by the savings bank. When was the last time you heard of a savings bank, 1950? Yes, no one has any money to save, the cost of everything has skyrocketed to the moon, maybe that is why Mr Gingrich wants to go there. Information technology has advanced and fallen backwards, television is no longer king, it has fallen by the wayside, it has wasted it's arena on trite dribble aimed at the vapid empty heads. It is a shame, it was  the perfect venue to educate and amuse the masses, now all it does is give headaches. Noise is its song.
   Radio was king for a very long time, then the radio stations and its advertisers stopped spending money on its listeners. Stories on the radio was the greatest venue for the mind. The Shadow was a radio program that was fascinating. That was in the day when people listened with their ears. They would hear the sound effects and be transported into the world of imagination, The minds eye would paint the picture from the words. It was a very personal experience, every minds eye would imagine the scenery the players and the story. Children in their beds would listen quietly to every creak of a footstep or door, they would imagine the weight of the foot or the shoe as it landed on each step and they would design the door that closed, designed even the doorknob that turned. Now on the radio ...
  Maybe it is simply, there is no longer an investment in beauty, it is only grab what you can while you can. Maybe it has to do with overpopulation, people being less important because there are now so many of us, we are down to the utility of it all, back to basics even though the markets are flooded with everything imaginable to entertain and amuse us, we no longer amuse ourselves. Fewer people whistle or play the harmonica, tap dancing is becoming a lost art. Storytelling is mostly written books or kindle.
  Ed Sullivan was a great entertainer. He gave us a little bit of everything, dancing, singing, acrobatics, clowns, comedians, animal acts, musicians, variety. He educated us all to the charms of the rest of the world. Now on tv it is fragmented, programs are twenty minutes of advertising and forty minutes of the same thing. Except the news, the news never shows us what is going on in the world they tell us what is going on, from an editorial point of view. They do the thinking for us and tell us how to feel about the story they are reporting. Some of their favorite adjectives are: scary, terrible, horrible, frightening.
  Yes, there is no longer any investment in the future. No one has given us any tools to learn how to imagine a future, one that we might want to live in, and we have not any idea how to design one for ourselves, so we are grabbing what we can, before it is all gone.

eyes

  If you look into my eyes you will see my soul.
Not the soul I was born with, but the one that has been wrought by many years of tears. You will see the hurt caused by injustice or malice. There is also the scar of abuse and the wounds of neglect. And the bruises from dominance and repression. Then there are the marks made by the whips of jealousy from the peers who thought my life was better than theirs.
  Look closely and the sea of troubles roars to the shore washing away the youth leaving behind the age of wisdom preferring ignorance to the harms. The sea is gone but the waves have eroded every instance of whimsy and humor. The jokes laughed at are the sarcasms of the dungeon of despair, the days and nights left to the shell of who I was. There is no more to look forward to, there is no night in shining armour to rescue me, the battle has been fought, the war ended , the bruises healed, the wounds disappeared, the life lived, the last of the life left to live, the time growing short. Days they are numbered, little more to do, little left to do it with. Life has been here, has trampled the path, worn ruts into the road wasting away the foundation, the sparkle the glitter, the enthusiasm. Little is left, but to watch the time go by, sit in the chair and remember, and forget, the life that was here, now going there.

History Channel Titanic at 100

So they call this a documentary and mix in fantasy. Most of the ten minutes I saw was not the Titanic but the people who did the work, the problems they had and the obstacles. False advertising personified, sensational erroneous work. If they had made a different title for the program, say, working towards Titanic, or the men who went for the Titanic.But instead they show make believe and call it documentary. They mention passengers and make up stories about what these people might have done. Then they show holographic design pieces of what these pieces look like and where they belong. If they say they are going to show us the Titanic, then , show us the Titanic. Lies don't work. They have garnered more ill will with their misrepresentation. Roger Mudd would not approve. The music also added to the tension. They turned me off so I turned them off.

The mystique of the Titanic, those persons perishing into the frozen waters all washed away by the History Channel and the insulting performance they attempted to pass among the people. If you are not angry you should be. You should be sick and tired of all the hoaxes trying to be perpetrated upon us. Too bad package deals are made for the channels, it, the History Channel, deserves to be dropped for this program. Misrepresentation is the same as lies. Ginger and MaryAnn made stars with fake representations of what might have been. Someone should be fired, without pay, and History Channel you should be ashamed, you have lost your credibility. 

LIES

Politicians lie all the time, they make promises they can not deliver and no one holds them accountable except to not elect them. They say that when they are elected they will do this and they will do that. And when they get into office they find out the reality of the job, the en bedded cronies that run the machines of government that tell them what they can and can not do, or who has to be paid to get what. Or whose palm has to be brushed to get something.

And we the public know this, yet we elect candidates based upon the lies we prefer to hear. I will fix this or I will fix that or  i will eliminate that. Seldom do we hear the truth. The government of the United States is based upon a system of compromise. A politician will vote for another politician's bill if the other politician will do something for the other politician in return. They are all making deals for their constituents, as well as for themselves. It is at scandal proportion now, the wealth en massed by the politicians in office, while the infrastructure of America is failing and the populace is in the throes of poverty, with millions unemployed, and more millions underemployed, and more mouths hungry leads us to nightmares.

America is more a third world country, brought to it's knees by greed and fear. Politicians robbing the populace and external forces scaring them to ignorance and fantasy. There are more people praying for salvation that there are thinking people. They are praying for solutions instead of educating themselves. They are burying themselves in the dark ages of hocus pocus magic. It is no longer the land of the free and the brave. We have become slaves to ignorance and fear controlled by greed and want. A perfect potion for danger and volatile weather.

Let's blame. Let's blame anyone, instead of taking responsibility for ourselves and our environment. It is easy that way. It is not my fault. It is your fault. And that will solve everything. And then we will be back to when this was a land of plenty of opportunity. Helpful isn't it, the pass the buck mentality to solving the ills of the world.

Everybody is right, nobody is wrong and yet nothing is getting better. The world is more populated , as opposed to saying that the world is getting smaller. All these people have different ideas and wants and dreams, and some of us will have our dreams come true, and the illusion is that  we have the right to pursue our happiness. Without the tools there is no road to utopia. Lies don't work, and when politicians and people realize that, things will be a little better for all of us.

We are  grown ups who can handle the truth and would much prefer truth, like  Hal in "2001 A Space Odyssey" lies don't work.

She hurried down the hall rushing to the door, seeing not, she stumbled, face hitting the floor.

fatigue

Ever notice all the mistakes made when tired, they seem to be simple faux pas' that should have been caught by the naked eye. But the eye is dulled by the dreams of slumber and the  mind continues to wander through the thoughts of the day or the task at hand. Some can control the mind to stop before the eye blinks into dream land, for others the eye drifts to the shores of another design, planning and scheming what should be, transposing numbers omitting letters and skipping pages. Reading is grand, the minds eye sees, the lips whisper and the image disappears before it opens the door to be filed in the brain, yet we continue reading, oft times, for pages, before the shutters slam the lids closed.

There was a guy who walked in his sleep, eyes wide open. He would always travel the same route. From his bed to the next bedroom to stand before the window, gazing into nowhere seeing nothing, then after a time return to whence he came. Upon waking in the morning and hearing of his nightly travels would laugh in disbelief and accuse his speakers of falsehood.

Then there was the woman who for three nights dreamt of a man who entered here home. Each morning she would wake in sweats, the home safe. Until, one day she entered her apartment when returning from work, to find it had been broken into and the little she had, was taken from her.

Another woman, aggrieved after the sudden loss of her lover, saw him at the door in her apartment, standing tall. Again she saw him at his funeral, seated behind his friend.

Then there are the times when seated, exhausted, so tired you can not sleep, but too tired to do anything you just sit there in a stupor, eyes open, seeing nothing, doing nothing. Not awake, not asleep, in a limbo between the two worlds.

You have undoubtedly seen the child fall asleep eating, the immediate shut down when enough fuel has been consumed, moving the body on to the next need.

There was a woman who once fell asleep standing up holding the strap on a crowded subway train, with the jostling motion and the shrill screech of the the metal wheels dragged along the metal tracks.

How about the person asleep with eyes open, that is a strange one. You carry on a conversation and there is no one there listening.

What about the dream you think is reality. The task though about the night before is dreamt about during the night and the disappointment upon arising to find the task undone, to be done anew.

It begs one to wonder, in fact are they all dreams, it is all the minds sorting during slumber that leads us to think we are awake when in fact we are walking in our sleep.

Do you know if you are awake. Is this really a dream. Can this be real. Pinch me.  No matter how hard you look, will you ever know, what is unreal, and what is real. Many a criminal has been set free, for we know not exactly what we see.

Getting Old

This is getting old
The fingers stiff
The legs unsure
The memory missing
The teeth missing
The eyesight fading
The hearing waning
The bowels sluggish
The bladder overactive
The skin is dry
The nails brittle
The hair thinning
The muscles weakening

When young we look forward
When old we look backward

The time goes by so quickly?
It was only yesterday, when we thought of ourself as a spry chicken, when full of energy, ready and able to do everything. When everything was easy.

The balloon is filled with air, it is secured shut, yet, drip drip drip, the balloon begins to sag. It grows smaller and smaller. Nothing has changed, except time. Drip Drip, the balloon again becomes the skin with no air within.

And such is life, it inflates and it expands, the mind ever expanding with data, the body willing, able and agile.

Perhaps, it is simply a game of musical chairs, we each get a chance to seat, and once the music again begins, we each get a chance to lose to seat.

Somebody is reading

   The stats for the blog say that someone is reading the stuff I write. Latvia is checking in, so is Russia, Canada, Sweden, and Germany. Someone from Malaysia was here too. UK, France and Columbia are counted too.

  Hello to all of you, and to everyone else I have not mentioned. I am now addressing you, for a change. All the other stuff has been written for me, as the way to empty my head of the things that have been on my mind.

  I wonder about all of your lives and how it differs from my. I wonder about your happiness or satisfaction with your lives. Instead about thinking about what you are doing, I do wonder about that, but more from the point of time and how you spend your time, your 'free' time, the for yourself moments and what good is in your life. I hope there is pleasure in your life, the little joys of the days, like sunshine, flowers, a smile.

  When I see the stats for the blog, I wish for all of you a good day, a happy time.

  So when I see the countries log in i visit with you for a moment. I try to imagine what your street looks like or the building in which you live. i hope it is a sturdy well built building on a clean street. I don't imagine the interiors or the weather, except for Russia, I always think it is cold there.

  I seem to care about the quality of your lives, you annomyous persons that peer into my soul. i get curious as to how you got to the site, how did you stumble here, is it the old random walk theory or were you driven by particulars.

  I do not read other blogs, read one or two, but have no more time to visit other sites. The blog is just my minute of rest, the standstill to regroup before moving on with my life, the minute to look at who I am, to make sure I still like myself, and that I have not strayed from where I remember is the place of peace for me. it is the way I take care of myself, the self analysis to maintain my mental health.

   I am not sure my mental is healthy, by others standards, but it is the look myself in the eye time  to see if i can still live with myself. Self respect is important to me, it is what i think my life is all about. If i like the me that I have to live with ---and what do I have to do to keep myself liking me. How I earned my living was important to me. Not what my job was but the ethic in executing the job.

  Even the worst jobs, the awful demeaning jobs working for persons who did not deserve my respect, that I did not lower my standards, I did not cheat myself. Is it the same for you. In this new millennium cheating and stealing seems to be the norm, or is that not the case, is it simply a few taking much or is everyone stealing as much as they can.
 
  The youth of today have a difficult road ahead of them, and i guess they will take care of themselves, that they have evolved into the new persons that are needed in this global neighborhood. In the old days there were what we called the 'jet setters', the people who hopscotched from nation to nation and continent
to continent. They were the aberration. Today they seem to be the norm, with the world right around the corner. Have you all been flying around visiting mcdonalds in japan and turkey.

   Then I think about all the people in china and the life differences in a dense population, as close as I get is as a baby boomer, close but not the same.

   Do you all think for yourselves, or do you follow, is another thought I have. Even the economically poor can think, i think, only depending how hungry you are, then need overpowers any rational thought, and survival kicks in. My life has not been easy, nor has it been as awful as the  worst of us. Yet, there is a bitter residue, and i want not to be responsible for making life more difficult for someone else. i want not to get in your way of having a better life, i want not to step on your toes.

  And that leads me to think about people, no, not people, persons, individuals who wish harm on others and I feel so bad for them, I feel that they are in so much pain that they have no way of soothing themselves, and i think that their lives must be so awful that they can not feel good unless they make others feel worse than what they are feeling. The trickle down of horrors.

  And i think maybe i am being smug about my attitude. Trying to look at it from their shoes. Do we feel happiness, true happiness, differently, or are we all living life at different levels of happiness. The pyramid of the haves trickling down to the have nots.
  But there are the monks who are poor and are happy.Another of life's mysteries, of which i have as yet not come up with an answer.

  So, yes, i think of all of you, and how your day must be going and wish for you a day that makes you feel good about yourself.

New

A new laptop
It's cool to be able to sit anywhere and work
A new laptop
means a new keyboard to adjust to
the keys a little larger
functions deleted, can't hit a mute key
functions added, haven't looked them up yet
no book for a clue
have to search the help.
  How can I work and search for info at the same time, two screens are not happening. And then the type fades in and out, larger and smaller as my hand moves to type.
A new version of Microsoft too, whoopie doo.
Page out to save
page in to new
page out to find another page
no more drop down screen
no more side panel for access.
All new.
Easy to add columns.
Tough to read to find the function though.
  Haven't yet found out why the type keeps changing.
More to learn.
It is good to learn.
It helps the mind stay young? It helps the mind stay.
Staying must be the same thing as young.
The keyboard has the direction arrows near the shift key,
I keep shifting to another line, like learning how to drive.
Does the laptop come with a Mavis Beacon lesson included?
Somehow I made the screen smaller and got it to levitate to the top of the viewer, getting seasick.
Need a map.
  It's the touch pad! You must type with your hands suspended in mid air or disengage the touch pad. Fascinating. P ,, nlblem solved, not really, still have flying type.
Practice, practice, practice.

  Watch out for the ac adapter, it gets warm, hope the carpet is fireproof.
The cat will love it in winter. if we ever have a winter.
Still sitting where i want, swell, as they said in the 1940's, or cool, in the 1960's or neat!
   Flying type. Coping with flying type and with getting the job done is extra time consuming, the trials of new. Always takes more, to do the same thing. The something new. The thing you got to make things easier and faster, are harder and slower just when you need it faster. Luxury is being able to learn at your own pace and at your own convenience, but we gotta eat. So the tension mounts, deadlines, and new. We never buy a new computer when we want to play, it is always because it is needed for a task, the old one dies, or does not do the what the new job calls for or there is not enough memory or there must be a new language, always new, to do the same old thing, communicate.
   I know, I keep harping about the same old thing, but, I truly believe there should be a holiday for Johann Gutenberg. A tribute. A song. Oh, where are the Beatles, they should have sung his praises.

    Gutenberg, Gutenberg, Johann, we wouldn't be here today without you. Strong fingers, short nails, symbols  to strike, paper is taking a hike, we're saving the trees,  even books to read, all because of you, thank you, Johann Gutenberg, my hero.

    They have added keys, they have new symbols, the printing press is still the best. Without the first books we all could read, where would Bill Gates be.
    
    Time to stop playing, time to learn the new machine, time is money, and time to earn some money, so time to learn, time to stop playing, time to get it together, before it gets away.

PS That's what I get for trying to put a word document on a spreadsheet!

Dear Diary, 3.23.12

Change for the better is very easy to accept.
Change for the worse is hard to swallow.

Who we are is always charming for the days that go by,
time is never at a loss to tick,
bye, bye
to our selves all we can say is bye bye.

We ascend to achieve, each day growing in wisdom and skill,
until, the clock ticks bye
and we begin to lose the glimmer in the eye.

We forget, we stammer, we stumble
time time slowing all our time.
can do, can not do
lose the rhythm
forget to tell
forget to ask
forget.

And as the days grow shorter
skills wane
everything a long refrain.

Less we do
along we wait
for someone to assist
for the loss is great.

We did it yesterday,
whatever it was,
we don't remember,
we wonder what it was.

We say it again,
 we said we never said it,
we don't remember saying it.

We did it,
we don't remember doing it,
we can't say it,
we don't remember what it is called.
We know it is not because we are getting old.
The brain in long refrain,
it will never be the same again.
It is gone, it is going,
drifting away
wandering
leaving.

what can we say,
we were here
we did what we could
what difference does it make
we don't remember doing it.

Goals achieved
mountains climbed
we did it, it's done
we'll never do it again
and we won't remember
we wanted to do it again.

The mind is going
the body too,
to where?
We wonder,
then we forget.
And it does not matter,
for there is nothing left,
we have left, we are gone,
we are here, and then there,
bye bye
in the wink of an eye.

Chicken Barns

Chicken

Chicken is a term used to denote someone who is afraid to venture...into the unknown, a coward. Children love to use the term to frighten peers into doing something or, to chide. Sissy is also used with the term. A sissy is a feminine insult to boys who are 'chicken' to venture where all the other boys will go, into the unknown, danger.

Chickens are little birds that seldom fly except to flee, they more seem to jump away from danger than fly, their flight is straight up as in helicopter then a parallel left or right pass then to  ground. They are quickto flight as they cluck to warn the others.

Their feathers are used or were used to stuff mattresses along with money that was being safeguarded. At the local chicken markets they had a machine that would shave the feathers off the carcass, it resembled a grinder's wheel.

There was a young boy in New York who lived near a chicken market. He and his friends would always annoy. To get rid of the kids, the owner of the chicken market told the young boy that if he planted the chicken's legs feet up in the garden chicken would grow. The young boy went home with the chicken legs and planted them feet up in the garden, to the dismay of his father, head of the agriculture department for the city.

Chickens are either caged or free range. Free range chicken wander the farm pecking at the soil seeking insects or the grain, usually corn, scattered by the farmer. Free range chickens are stress free birds except for the predators, cats, dogs, fox. Free range chickens often lay their eggs anywhere in the grass, or in a nest as provided.

Caged chicken are like any animal, stressed to tension, tight muscles, and agitated.

Chicken barns are usually large metal structures housing hundreds of chickens confined to every available space. Their waste is usually housed until trucks arrive to remove the debris to elsewhere to be burned or used for fertilizer. The odor is not contained, it floats into the air, hovering at ground level. These barns are built by local residents contracted to the major suppliers. Once there is a profit, then another barn is errected, an another, soldier style one right after another. Four barns standing together look neat and orderly. When driving by the nasal assault causes the eyes and nose to close, if the flaps on the ears worked they would close too. As the automobile wooshes by it picks up the odor and wooshes it along for a scent that lingers, nearly another mile.

In Life

In Life one needs a purpose, a reason to get up in the morning. Employment, of the nature that provides income, or of the nature that supports income are usual for adults. One person a breadwinner, another supports the breadwinner. When there is a team the roles oft are shared with purpose morphing according to needs, that is , if there are children to raise the responsibilities are varied and divided according to abilities and opportunities-who has the potential to increase the financial assets and who has the ability to tend the brood.

As the brood ages and leaves the nest the purpose shifts to responsibility to and for partner for income. Once the financial assets have been secure, or as secure as possible within the global climate then the need to acquire new purpose is catamount to enhancing the quality in life.

Upon retirement from employment to acquire financial income there must be adjustments to adapt a lifestyle to shift focus to new purpose. There is the oppportunity to pursue passions as in golf, tennis, or other competitive sports as racing, pool, bowling. This venue allows for personal growth to be measures with competition among peers. Allowing for satisfaction in personal achievement as well as the relishing of beating a foe, or absorbing the loss, with dignity. For some, the opportunity to compete is satisfaction enough, being able to gather the energy and courage to 'show one's stuff.'

There are also those who choose to continue to acquire assets in the same line of business as that which they retired from, or to embark on another field, money being the goal for satisfaction.

Then there are those for whom it will take some time to fully grasp what in fact will be the hidden purpose for which satisfaction, excitement drive and passion will spark. They will languish in a limbo like state sifting through life sorting through minutia acquiring bits and pieces of knowledge and experience which will support the future purpose, of which they are yet to be surprised. Here, without self worth the individual will sink into a despair. Respect and trust in self, the knowledge of, the lack of opportunity, not the lack of preparation. When one continues to strive for excellence the satisfaction is self achievement and the self respect that will provide the staff of life to endure until the opportunity for purpose arises.

Nothing

Does it exist
'I have nothing'
is the nothing something, or
is the having a figment of the imagination.

what did you do today,
'I did nothing'
just being is something so,
doing nothing is something, therefore
nothing is something
or is doing a figment of the imagination..

what do you want,
'nothing'
if wanting nothing does that signify fullness;
or is wanting just a figment of the imagination.

Nothing
doing nothing
having nothing
wanting nothing
can one exist with nothing, wanting nothing doing nothing having nothing.

No thing, is that like the black hole, consuming all thing.
disappearing everything, leaving no thing.

nothing
wanting no thing is simpler
than having no thing.
food, clothing, shelter,
someone to share with.
no food, we become no thing, not true,
we become fodder for something, therefore continuing us as something.
no clothing, the elements erode the thing that we are and therefore we become the element that is the eroder, still not nothing.
no shelter, we live amid the elements, both being nutured and erroded by the elements, thus and therefore we are again nothing.

Empty denotes nothing
empty of .....
is simply the absence of...something
yet something is nothing
and nothing is something

Further,
nothing happens when nothing is without something
yet something is always there
it is just not important enough to be called something

what do you hear,
nothing
what does nothing sound like
something different than what we usually hear
can you hear nothing
if you hear nothing is it not something

what do you see
nothing
this, then is subjective
with eyes open there is always something to see.

what are you looking at,
nothing
can the mind disappear everything
or does the mind refuse to see what the eyes behold.
what are you looking at,
nothing
in the darkness is there nothing
or is it simply
what the eyes cannot see, that is called nothing
or can the eyes see what is there
and the mind, not.
When the eye is accustomed to darkness what does it see,
the absence of darkness
yet it is dark,
or is it a figment of the imagination.

what do you see,
is it what is in front of you,
or is it what you want to see,
or is it nothing.
Nothing of vaLUE to you, yet something,
and yet nothing.

What do you earn,
nothing.
Enough to eat, shelter, clothing.
yet nothing you want,
only what you need
therefore nothing of enough value to be something.
No more than survival,
nothing to enhance life,
nothing to enjoy life,
nothing to really be alive.

Then, therefore, you are dead.
And if you are dead, you are something to something,
not nothing.
And, thus, enhance, life, for something, not nothing,
for without the wind the water, the soil, the sun, even on what is called barren planets, there is something.
So, nothing is something
and something is nothing.
and there is nothing to change the something that nothing is all about.
and, therefore is nothing to worry about, something on the other hand, always occupies, any place in time or space.

We live in time and space, and nothing is nowhere something is therefore nowhere is where something is, in space and time.

If, on the other hand, there is no space and time, is there room for nothing. No, because there is no space and time and nothing fits in, or, without space and time there is nothing. But we already know that something is nothing or more precisely nothing is something, it is obvious that then there is no such thing as the absence of space and time.

Or , there is only space, time is only a figment of the imagination, or the clock that we all live by, if  there was no time would we live forever or cease to exist. Without time are we nothing. Must we have time to be something, something we currently recognize as 'alive' moving to another time, as currently 'alive'.

Are we alive as dirt, does dirt feel, not necessarily as we denote feelings of pain or satisfaction. Dirt, what does dirt feel when stepped upon, or wetted with lime for cement. If we are feeling , would we thus continue to feel when we become 'dirt'. Or, do we feel nothing, do we leave the feeling to the 'thinking mind' that thinks nothing does not exist, while in fact we have above proven it does.

Nothing, to worry about, we will in fact, all find out the answer, except if being 'dirt' is the same as not knowing.

A leaf falls to the ground, an ancestor of something or an ancestor of nothing, does it know, unable to change any part of the world for better or for worse, that it is not able to, or does it, just by one person who is in awe at it's beauty. Has that small a change in the world made it something, or must we see it as nothing because the mind of the  eye refuses to see.

Come tomorrow we shall see, something or nothing.

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Dear Diary, 3.8.12

       There are things I should have been commenting about, but haven't. Seems sorta moot to comment about Rush Limbaugh's faux pas but, he never walks in anyone else's shoes, so myopia is his moniker. It is a shame though, he has the ear of so many people and he simply spreads venom, musta had a tough childhood, never knew kindness, never heard of kindness. If we ignore him, we being all of us, it would do no good, he needs someone to hear him, so perhaps he will listen - .

       This whole thing about the birth control pills in not really about women's health, it is really about control. Men want to control women's bodies. Like the cave man hitting the cave woman over the head with a club, subjugating women like  some eastern countries clouded in masks. It is the male trying to dominate the female making them possessions.

        Some religions, founded my males, tell females they must reproduce, to rebuild the congregation, ensuring power. Some religions have it set up that the male make take many wives, and produce many children, even forty offspring by one male, thus guaranteeing the power of the male with the males own tribe.

            Thus, power disguised as moral right controls the society of local communities. Now, since the industrial revolution, robots and computers, the female, thanks to Johannes Gutenberg and the printing press, has left the cave of ignorance and discovered the brave new world of independence and self worth based on more than reproduction, the opportunity to think. That is what the battle is all about, denying the female the right to think and choose.

         If you believe god spoke to the male and told him what to write down for posterity then all females who do not reproduce and repeatedly reproduce, are doomed, as well as the male who also does not reproduce, repeatedly, to live forever in poverty struggling to survive and provide for the multitude of offspring.

        It is all about control, power, and having someone to control. All those people who feel powerless must have something (someone) to control, to maintain their illusion of control. They refuse to accept that there are so many variables in life that there is no control over anything, like the tornado that wipes out towns or the tsunami the washes away cities. You can only do your best and and live with what life gives you, or what life lets you keep.

        Why does one males opinion have to be the right opinion. Why does male have to tell female what is good for female. If female told male he had to do something to his body even if he did not want to, what would happen. If female told male he must have a vasectomy would he comply.

         Mind your own business, stop telling people what to do. Let people make their own mistakes. Freedom is more valuable than control. Without freedom people can not discover who they really are, and what their potential is. Not knowing who I am and what I believe in or want to be makes me a slave to society, it sucks the life out of me, and makes my life not worth living.

        Think about that for a while.

And let me live my life, and you live yours. Time is all I have, and you have no right to tell(order) me how to live it.

miceLLe

Fwd: for your consideration

When you are feeling, you don't know what
begin to write anything
what day it is
what the weather is like
and more will come out

If you write it down it will get out of your head
All that you are feeling is everything in your memory
all at once

yesterday today and tomorrow
all jumbled up in a mess

scribble
it doesn't have to be neat

allow yourself to grieve
cry scream yell
let it out
keeping it inside will only prolong the pain
and make it worse

feel how horrible it feels
only once do you bury a father
it is a unique pain
and you will only feel it once

then begin to celebrate
all the good that was
all the happy that was
all the love that was
hug it tight
and then let it go
with time
all the pain will fade away
and life can begin anew
for the stronger you

The game of Football

Well we watched the ball game.
But, my comment is that the game is always fixed.
I have lost much interest in sports competitions because of all the
scandals.
Lance Armstrong really broke my heart, taking steroids is one thing but
lying about is an altogether bummer.
So, I sometimes watch kids perform on track and field just to see what
the kids have grown to.

About football, i remember back in the 60's they would interview
football players and they could not communicate at all. Now they are
thinking machines that speak to. Man has come a long way learning lots
of stuff and then they have to cheat to make sure they win.

I remember when playing the game was the important thing. Now, winning
is the only thing that matters. There is no more art in sports, it has
become a survival feat.

Oh yeah, there are some pretty passes and some amusing touchdowns but
the real challenge has been removed. Fake turf has removed the mud and
dirt and grass from football uniforms so we do not get to see the tell
tale signs of the damage the players are feeling. It is now a sterile
competition, fighting for land that isn't even real.