ST117 ... A few days along - the streets of SMA, Mexico.

Tomorrow I'm going where truth never dies.

Nov 15, 2024

*Mexico - San Miguel de Allende, thru the lens of Patrick Wey*

Oct. 31 2024
It was a hot day, all the feelings of regret and defeat left for the street. I was on the side line in a tortalloria having a natural juice. My dog Kachi was given a bowl of water by one of the workers. A round fellow with a nice smile and the music was low, the street was humming with traffic sporadically moving to individual destinations. I had no ambition to do or be anything. I watched. There was a pretty woman waiting at the entrance. She eventually grabbed her sandwiches(tortas) and left for the street. She was one of those ravishing beauties, modest and tender in her skin, black long hair, a black blouse, black slacks, shoes and red ruby lips. She has a life somewhere, maybe a few kids, a working husband, maybe she is single and works in an office. I watched her leave. I recalled dreams that entertained a simple life, with a simple woman, in a simple town, a few kids, a pleasant existence.

ravishing beauties grow old with inner light

Kachi was worn out, she was sprawled out off to the side of the room, This is a dog friendly town. There are numerous gringos, expats and western dogs living around. Not so much in this neighborhood, but Mexicans have become much more friendly towards dogs in the last years. I never had Kachi on a leach all day, she would prance ahead, wait at intersections, weave in and out of the busy narrow sidewalks of people and look back to keep an eye on me. She is the best. I treat her better than most people i know, much better. She deserves it, she understands me, we understand each other.

Tomorrow I'm going where truth never dies, where the feeling of acceptance is ever present, that place where some kind of love is all around. Until then i will do my best to be kind to others and myself, to find that soft view in any harsh situation, to stand my ground firm, clear and gentle.

The night has fallen over me and i can see the endless field of stars floating above and the thoughts of the day disappearing into the haze of my mind. Lights out, sleep. Tomorrow, i was promised some truth by you know, who knows whom.

Nov 7
We were both torn, smashed against the rip of a dream gone dark deep. No one was to blame, really, life tears sometimes like a piece of cut glass thru skin. It was impossible to exist without the stress of separation erupting in fits of tears and rage. I moved into simple quarters where the locos live. I stopped in for a beer and watched my life disappear across eons of lost love, romantic walls, broke, out in the streets where nobody lives long. I stumbled into these words as i was rearranging my mind, readjusting the fragments to break on out into the other side; get out of this gloom and stretch my heart into something worth while….. i was ready for the fight. I'm not going to stay down here long, I'm not going to let the pain win. I've got things to get done, dreams slipping up from the ruins. Possibly i'll head for the coast. I could die tomorrow and few would care, they'd write sympathy notes on faces of a page for all to see, get 'sorry for your loss' sympathy and celebrate my life without me. I do the same, it's a trend, a global fashion.

I'm alone tonight wondering what to do. I was here a half century ago when i was young and full of enthusiasm, eager to explore, see what there was to see. I'm older now, i know the games, different skin but minds warped into the same old grooves everywhere. I lack the ambition to travel thru the same towns, same old habits, same similar mind-sets everywhere. Possibly i'll die in the ditch and end my misery. Just not quite my style. I still see so much beauty everywhere. I'll keep walking.

*tortillas for sale in the streets and beauty*

Nov 8
It doesn't matter all that much to me, what you think….. about the old new president or the wars between satan and god. They are all just opinions in the end, thoughts wanting a platform, in need of a space to exist, an audience to perform to. I am on the other side of things, breaking every tool i find, crushing perception into little balls of light and flicking them across all space of time. I have a challenge before me, a life or death path with no decisions to accompany the trail. I'll be thrown into the abyss and the earth shall decide if i should live or if i should die.

On the road of the heart sometimes the mind has to be silenced. We like to think it is the spirit that takes control, possibly that is true but whatever it is, it has the power to be, to be true… that is my perception for the time being, what it is at the moment.

In the morning
In the morning out in the streets. A little park by the buses. The sun is already piercing the skin. I sit shaded by huge dense, at least one hundred year old bush-trees. I am feeling excited today. There is beauty in various forms surrounding. Old ladies on benches, old men relaxing in the morning air, young men going to work, many young beautiful looking women and kids of all ages with mothers. All the small shops are open for business. The shoe shine guy is setting up beside me. Cell phones are everywhere, with the old and young, it has monopolized the world. There are smiles and frowns, cowboys and clowns. As in every park on the planet, there is everything here. Gringos slowly accumulate taking videos and photos and talking into their devises, recording their pleasures, documenting their lives for their loved ones, the jealous ones, their diaries, memoirs, legacies….. i am no different. Here i see, i write, i photograph, create, find the right script for the moment as best i can. It's a life, no less important than the president of the united states in his collage of secret meetings and manipulated realities to impress, control, project ones ego into the day, the night, the atmosphere, the heavens. We are all the same in one aspect…. we love thought, we hate dissonance, we are all doing our best to belong… to the moment, our choice or not.

Arbo de la india…… i just asked the shoe shine man the name of this huge bush-tree. I remember a friend that was in India and had sent a picture of one of the oldest trees there…it was this same specie. I loved that woman. I lost that woman. She is in Poland. She is a friend. I visited her once for the most incredible three weeks of my life. Things end, things hurt, things heal, things are just things.

The next day, the 9th of Nov 2024
I'm finding my place again. It moves around. I'm on the edge. The whole world is at my command. I have nothing to be. I see it all from this vanishing vantage point. There is nothing i have missed. I am right in the heart of it all, from the weary reserves up around the bay of hudson, to the east village, the back streets of minsk, the glamour of popular road, the bursting veins on skid row, the love in the ditch, the caress of blood lines……i've been thru it all and i haven't seen nothing yet.

It's early morning here in SMA. I am right in the middle of it all, where the buses end and start for the loco destinations. It's a perfect place for lighting, for watching people come and go, hang out and gather thoughts for the day. Me, i'm not gathering anything, just watching, letting my life drift along. Everyday i have less and less to prove. I am on no mission. The truth of the matter is in the unknowing. I know it is all unknowable, a mystery and i am an illusion, a beautiful piece of being, my thoughts tangle me, untangle me, flow, fight, form and dissolve. It is all so beautiful in moments, i feel a touch of ecstasy brush up against my soul, something somewhere inside beyond the cloth of thought.

I have had criticism of my writing at times that it leads nowhere. That is true, correct, but it can take you there…. down into that space where words fall apart, disintegrate, thought melts and dreams weave into themselves….. Sometimes you have to wait for the moment to appear, to let the magic dissolve itself into itself whereas the gift of life appears, love pierces the presence of the myth of mind…. that's all, nothing profound cept god speaking in one of the infinite ways eternity kisses.

the afternoon…
I have found my cafe for the time being. Great coffee, great view. There is a beautiful wall across the street. The lighting is almost perfect at times. So many beautiful humans walk by, ancient, young, all sectors of society. I prefer the ancient eyes, wrinkled skin, modest dress. The wall is textured in hundreds of years, stones that have lived millions of eons, zillions of thoughts that have bounced off this wall into the streets, the town, the skies, the heavens….where have they all gone. Dreams that have come, gone, lived and died. I am in this, born of this, within the broken circles surrounding this earth, a spec of miracle transforming in time.

Now that i have succumbed to my fate here, i feel at home, nowhere in the scheme of the progression of humanities civil journey, but a dot on the outside looking in. My greatest weakest is my infatuation of women, all kinds, all races, everything about them mesmerizes my heart. They are the perfect creation in my mind. It is a weakness, a flaw in my so called journey of the spirit. I don't care, let the angels condemn me, the gods destroy me, the authority jail me… no body owns me. I am a freak of nature, an anomaly, a creature without form, an invisible spirit, a fraud, a pixel in no image, no screen, a word with no letters.

I see people too crippled to walk, too blind to see, deaf to the air… i can't complain, today. I have good health, a safe mind, a meager pension, friends, facebook, what else do i need.

It is time to shift attention
Look up towards the earth below
where seeds grow
there is no need to mention
what the sky may know of the earth below
i don't write so that you may know, or understand
my words are silhouetted hues that i may see
and if there are any hesitating colors that hit your eye
call it a blessing from somewhere else
i have nothing to do with your time of mind

It's getting to be that time where as more friends and relatives are dead than living. It is strange. It means nothing and yet it seems to mean everything. We have build conclusions of what happens next, ways to handle the shock, the ego disintegrating into a calm mellow warm going… somewhere, somewhere you know not. So that time will come, it is closer than it once was. So we move on until we don't. That's me, i'm not taking any, anything into the dark bright end beginning, whatever it is. I know the majority of humanity have some form of belief that resolves much of their anxiety of facing the unknown with unknowing eyes as if someone is in control….. quite likely——not. I understand, been there, done that, doing that, but letting go is a dance, you dance with the night and keep dancing.

It appears that reason, logic have some form of relationship to this universe. Mankind has been trying to figure that out since we began thinking and began to be aware that we are thinking. In my life time i feel i have taken thinking and reason to the outer limits of itself, where it falls short and some form of direct knowing takes over. Intuition has been used to express this medium to its end, but not the knowing versus reason itself. At any rate, we all use reason most of the time to maneuver thru this world. Reason has created the machinery and tools of civilization and now we have created machines that can out reason us, outwit us, out do our conclusions in lighting speed. Perhaps mankind has a unique consciousness that can know the truth about something instantaneously without reason. If that is so, then, if that tool is not sharpened, mankind will fall to the superiority of the thinking machines, alternative intelligence. That is happening, joint relations, human brain cells, electrical circuitry amalgamation. Human robots, transhumans.

I used to think it mattered to me, the fight between good and evil, human and machine, nature and genetically modified organisms. I don't anymore. I have my preference for my health, my preference in foods, my distaste for repetition in the arts, my cringe at selfish science, but ultimately i don't really know anything for certain, but there is what feels right in any given situation, a moral compass somehow a part of our being, human being. Other animals posses something similar if not identical in many aspects. Possibly that is the relationship of mother earth and all her children, a unique celestial sphere of knowing.

A few days down the line
I grab a coffee and head across the street to the park, where the buses come and go. There is a group of men with their big hats and bad backs talking in the morning air. The cathedrals lie proud on the edge. Today i am in the distance against the quiet background where the solemn ones go. Pigeons waver about for specs of bread. A couple of artists are sketching the scenes. A man and his cigarette gazes out into the center warming in the sun, worried about something, watching the pigeons.

Life here is still tender in spite of the violence stewing with cartels, the internet, the digital gadgets, phones, western values blooming. It is in the family, the connection between generations, christ embedded deep. The further the west moves into itself the further it moves away from nature. Ultimately the thinking machines will rule the earth. The arrogance of thought will out do itself. The thinkers will flock into the realms of data and deceit, as a religion. The bond of family is the love of nature. As ceremony and ritual recedes, thought and the machine exceeds.

I feel more at home here with no family of my own, not missing the connections that were strangling themselves for better or worse, and for more stuff. I am a poor man. I had tried numerous times in entrepreneuring ventures. It's a hard road. Very few make it in this fabricated world of money, big business, mostly the ass-kissers, the deceptive minds, the ruthless hearts. At any rate it was not in the cards for me.

I know of no one on this earth that has lived unscathed of the suffering of living. I suppose one may call me an absurdist, not an atheist, or a believer. I, somehow, believe that all belief is make belief, an attempt for the nature of thought to convince itself that it is right, true, infallible. Of course, it is reason that is the undying culprit of its own doing and undoing in an endless circle of paradox. That is what i believe, as contradictory as it may seem, i am an absurdist, i suppose.

I have had visionary states that appear infallible. I am sure, as pure as christ, any of the saints, artists, scientists. In this state nothing can deter from its truth. The state ends, with nothing but memory to hold on to its magnitude. Memory is not enough, not pure enough to hold the truth in its palm. I move on, the absurd notion of truth leaves me with nothing but faith that quietly lies between the beauty and the silence of things.

Life is bearable in this state. This mind does not need a solid belief to stand upon. The earth is moving, the sky whirling, the universe changing, nothing is in control but a few glimpses along the road to nowhere, everywhere, wherever.

*the road to nowhere, everywhere, wherever.*

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