ST17 ... Caught up in trying to prove something.
We're wired that way.
I think i got caught up in trying to prove something. Sorry about that. I mean who doesn't. We're wired up that way. Learn something, teach it, preach it. What am i talking about? (take this badge off of me)
I started this blog for no other reason than to expose some of my writing. Never to have a set subject, or preplanned articles about anything particular. This is not a career. At best to give some enjoyment, room for pondering, questioning, developing, moving words around to no definite end. I got slightly caught up in having to prove myself, register my thoughts with facts so as not to appear as someone i wouldn't want to imagine myself to be, but there i was, half naked, half drowning, half rising into some mysterious clouds floating around a way beyond my self. Most of the time i don't care what anyone thinks or thinks about me.
There are moments i am just disgusted with the way society creeps around within the new medium giving people the power to slip into your world unnoticed, evaluate your mind and leave without a response. As if they have the right to see you naked, like a peeping tom, then go back and hide away in their own sheltered lost preserved and sometimes wonderful worlds….well i guess we do have that right, new times, new discoveries, that's the way it is. Get over it, me.
Well that's just a ridge of the melting glacier. Most of the time i am just fine with rambling on in my own way, saying what i feel and throwing it out to the world of complex souls and placing it gently to the gentle ones. It is a form of therapy.
Hate and love, they’re entwined down here in the lowlands. We can not always be perched up on the cliffs over-looking the earth with all its beautiful landscapes from a sacred perspective, that space where dualism ends, the edge where reason falls apart, the land of love.
Somehow i tend to think that by being honest, my views can expose a little of all of us and possibly help someone. I am no saint, no devil. I'm a mixture of contradictions partly smooth, partly friction. I miss the old friends, the times we once shared. I miss the family that i feel estranged from. An outcast, a renegade, a deviant but one thing is extremely clear….i don't see myself better than anyone and not inferior, in my dance i'm separate attached one and many, an illusion perfectly real.
Down the highways of ends unravelling the pretty people keep on dancing while another segment of the crowd is moving on with new normals entering easy. Over-all-views are nothing more than a new series flix unreal and undetected. The hidden out front plain view ploy is weaving its web in like a warm curtain, unnoticed somehow by the many for its real motives…..for the time being.
I'm moving about for no reason. I have a dream smothered in fading dust nudging. It might be time to make the big move. If anything worth anything is worth the move it is this, this time to escape. Play me one last waltz before the bells begin to ring. Bells bells bells the ringing and rhyming of the bells bells bells.
Whose gonna draw the line, there are lines for everything and there're all vague when you inspect the detail. Thin lines, thick lines, battle lines, invisible lines, lines for lines of lines by lines. I'm gonna cut them all, break all ties.
No i'm not, not just yet. I'm trapped like you in a world of mad men sticking their agenda throughout my free veins. Freedom is breaking all the rules, killing truth and beauty in to one organized world of digital data. I'd rather die than let those werwolf's mess with my virgin blood.
A sliver of moon is rising up over the mountain here late into the night. The early morning is moving into the solar fields across the land. I can feel it. I am awake troubled by the new blue laws of man moving into view. One day at a time. Faith in the deep, beyond this. The smooth vibration of the earth and cosmos will take care of the warrior souls.
I don't need a passport to die, to live free. No group of self appointed madmen will last long, there are too many of us awakening to the game. It's morning now and the sun is beaming in the window from over the dark mountains of the long skies.
I suspect the presence of the unseen in my heart will move between the love/hate together as one today. Possibly a short nap but i am not falling back into any deep sleep. Now that i am awake i am going to climb that mountain once again. The dogs are urging me on. They know the truth. It's in the climb.
After re-reading this possible blog post i'm not sure i'll let the net catch it. I am apprehensive. It will probably be taken the wrong way. Well, what would i expect? We all misrepresent ourselves, misinterpret others, hell in fact, we misinterpret ourselves most of the time and then attempt to write it out on a page with a host of words organized into some clarity as if it is from some scripture or google.
Not possible - really. What i mean to say is that it is difficult for me to truly acknowledge what you think. You my shaman friends, my sisters, my coffee maker, the life long fellows and gals from the nights and days along the streets of life, all of you. Who are you?
Who am i but a mixture of lows and highs described in the most impressive words to flaws in the atmosphere. But really, it's all a perspective, even buddha would agree to that …… not that i need his approval. We are all a conglomeration of beliefs and ideals praying we got it right or to just get us through the night.
Most people are horrified to turn off all the lights, raise all the curtains, and be Taken Up to where nothing is real ..... that’s a given and understood. It’s hard.
It is clear here in J Lennons ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’…this particular part, 'nothing is real and nothing to get hung about'.Â
My writing often reflects this concept in one way or another. The dichotomy of how we are constantly attempting to make real what is unreal….which ends up being most everything we do, when you observe it close; but ‘nothing to get hung about’, that is the key, strawberry fields forever.
After a life time of taking every chance i could get to see without looking, i fell into Stawberry Fields, often, forever.
Talk about misinterpretation, here it is from ‘both sides now’, both ends, in and out, everywhere….but nothing to get wrapped up in, just scribbles from the back walls moving up front.
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a coffee. a like, a whisper.
WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey
My Work …. Images - sales
"Strawberry Fields Forever"
Let me take you down, 'cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Living is easy with eyes closed
Misunderstanding all you see
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out
It doesn't matter much to me
Let me take you down, cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
No one I think is in my tree
I mean it must be high or low
That is you can't you know tune in but it's all right
That is I think it's not too bad
Let me take you down, cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Always know, sometimes think it's me
But you know, I know when it's a dream
I think a "No," I mean a "Yes"
But it's all wrong
That is, I think I disagree
Let me take you down, cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields
Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
Strawberry Fields forever
j lennon
Well, I sure don't mind reading your bits. xo
Wired, fired, tired, inspired, been in and out of the dryerd... An' I ain't no liard, usually.