REALITY AND CREATIVITY

Hey wait, what Reality? and what Realty? Real estate or real states?  Yes, one does find some words confusing especially one wants to make the right message go across some bridge or some courier, flight, transport or whatever.  And do you realize how art does its own way of confusing one with words?  Yes art does that and it somehow is up to someone to know the difference between reality and fictionalized creativity.  Otherwise there would be nothing else to do or wonder about if one can't challenge someone else's mind.  Such is the art of what needs to be attracted to steer one or to clear one from thoughts inappropriate or to whatever notions.  Grasping one's thoughts through any kind of art that would wake up our senses has different levels of attraction to people.  I don't know how much you or someone else is turned on to certain kinds of art but I must say though that I still do not want to leave the visual and the audio and spiritual world.  

SLOWN DOWN

It's around one at dawn and I'm quite comfortable with this rhythm.  But usually I just wake up at three.  And of course as I continue to be doing this sort of thing called blogging,  music would accompany me as I do so.  And though at times I do feel so much more alone than the usual lonesomeness, I find the inspiration in music and of course to worry about some other things that are the basics which are food, shelter, clothing and utilities.  

SEASON REVIEW

Have you ever fret so much you need to find a guitar and can't find one.

THE WORST YEAR OF OUR LIVES

Is this the worst year of my life or has the bubble burst.  The tipping to the boiling point. To the uncomprehending nonsensical thoughts and defense mechanisms.  Perfect days to try to capture and swallow whole.  Like your own soul, losing and running for it.

DEAR DIRE DIARY REFLECTIVE

"I am an Architect...toss it back and burn the slack away " (The Opposing Engineer Sleeps Alone)

 I hear,  I have ears too.  And eyes that can see and read.  Senses that track my movement.  A heart that speaks from within.  Truth has its consequences.  And for all the things that we hate that goes on around and over again, pretending it does not happen.  I still believe in dreams and though I must say I do falter from time to time, the spark shall and will try remain active.  And if at times I fail, I'd be humbled, and if I succeeded at some point, I'd be honored to continue believing that things could somehow bring to light what's stuck in darkness. 

Mine was a tough one.  I meant the cross I have to carry.  Each and every one of us I suppose have their own crosses to bear, their own calling like molded to be.  The call to be this and to be that.  To find his own self to burn the light that is within.  Looking for your own shadow, chasing your own tail, blazing your own trails,  counting your blessings, thinking big, keeping track of time, making sense of your own existence, and bringing your own beer, lol .  . . 

But to find these, one must have to do it alone.    And one might perceive that its all done and begone, through all of these nonsense, meaningless pursuits, one gets to know who were those who was with you along for the ride.  Some might give up and settled for less. At present, especially when holiday comes, and merry-makings seem to distract.  For once, or should I say I've been doing it all along without even noticing it , myself.  Like blind spots, as what it is called.   And for once again, as we somehow do feel the same I suppose.  

Through all the cheers, jeers, laughter, voice and the cacophony, we as I somehow forget our own promises to do what we're really suppose to be doing.  And as our institutions may or can somehow betray, one must try and stay focused, and stay the same.  And at the same time still hold on to the torch, believing that tomorrow will bring forth another age. 

No body is ever perfect, as no country ever is as well.  This reality is reflected continuously and is shown all around everyday.  For whichever way we take and travel through, for every misgivings we have and we mistook for the good, or lesser into the lesser to the lessest evil, as Gods I am an architect of my own destiny,

THIS COUNTRY

This country has the incredible amount of threshold to pain and tolerance to madness.  Though it may seem that things are going smoothly through the pursuit of knowledge and information, the usual goings-on around town and the suburbs has carefully been trying to put plans into action.  But through all of these convictions, I must say I am one of those abused by the system.  My temperance for this I have really tried hard to tolerate as well.  The institutions, the government, and the business community.  The media.  How far can I withstand the pressure.  

When most of my childhood friends has already left the country,  where they have lost faith in working and staying put to find themselves and a way of living.   But most have immigrated much to my chagrin and laugh at the painful amazement.  Sad to have nothing to talk about and go ballistic instead.  Breaking up.

To try hard and fit among and ride along with the trend.  The science that goes in outside and the helpless symptoms around which we try to analyze and make sense of.  The amends hanging on to balance without any formal communication.

But it all comes down to your own dreams to find success and be happy for which I must say becomes very hard to reach in the most humble way possible.   The stares and the the pretensions has become louder now that I can no longer withstand because it becomes so tiresome to do so.  Losing patience and burning out.  It's starting to fade away.  And to the days further I must call and cease to somehow try to hang on.    

THE PAST, SEASONS, PLANNING AND THE ROCK AND THE GROWL

Why do I get the feeling that something kept repeating.  The term is repetition.  And are there really devils in the spaces.  I encountered this other form of Architecture called Typographic.  If one is that inept or is that the right term?  or refined in Grammatical Composition.  In schools they call it the Humanities. If that school has certain divisions.  I can recall but a few.  The Natural Sciences, The Social Sciences, Engineering, Humanities and what have you.  The spaces between words and the Business terminologies one has to invent or design to sell a product, the academic who had to tend to this purpose, the needs the wants and the dreams and wishes and longing for.  Pro-actives and the anti-actives.  The Medical, arts and the Pharmaceuticals.  The most probing and the most inquiring and the most curious and the most detailed.  The most high and the most low and the most belittled and the most middled and singled out.  The most neutered and the neutral, the most empty and the most forbidden.  The accepting and governmental.  The most organized and the cleanest.  The loudest and the most silenced out.  The most profound and hungry and full.  The paired the grouped and the gridded.  The isolated and the preisolated . The experimented and the most failed.  The uninspired, aspired and the most in pain, and the most gay.  The most glad and the most surprised and happy.  The ghosts inside the machines,  This written copy, the published and the edited,  the coded messages and the most obviously obfuscated and obscured .  The unnecessary essentials.  And the most beautiful.  The unashamed and the unforgiving and the noisiest blinded internet online monitors' debut and the extended.  The most unknown and unprepared .  The distracted and the most focus.  The freed and the eyesores and the never changing cultural differences.  The most educated , and the most dumb.  The orally abused and the ill-effects of ancestry and toned downs.  The routines that had to be stopped and mellow down.  The season of ups and downs, jump and spin and push and pull, tumble, roll, and rock N GROWL!

NEW YARN'S SOLUTION

Hey it was the Chinese Lunar New Year yesterday and I suppose I must say something about how the Chinese influenced our culture right here. Architecturally and most importantly economically.  Well, I saw a lot of buildings and blah blah blah. Ram Goat whatever, I got bored thinking about their insistence to classify the years we were born to be  or in synced with these notions.  But I need coffee. 

WHAT IS UP WITH CHARLES?

I got nothing really to talk about.  It is just that at the moment I am a bit debased.  Or really am wholly debased.  It comes with the season perhaps.  Or my head.  Having this migraine, just for today since I am starting to write this at an internet cafe.  It means that I am time constrained.  Maybe thirty minute or so. 

Oh, how I dreamt.  How I fought for it. 

There's always new architecture going on around and elsewhere.  And it might seem like today that I won't have to talk too much about it.  Because I am up to something and somehow  I just cannot seem to get the right kick unlike before. 

Nevertheless I leave with Bukowski's poem.  Just thought of sharing.

The Genius Of The Crowd

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average

human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it

and the best at hate are those who preach love

and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god

those who preach peace do not have peace

those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers

beware the knowers

beware those who are always reading books

beware those who either detest poverty

or are proud of it

beware those quick to praise

for they need praise in return

beware those who are quick to censor

they are afraid of what they do not know

beware those who seek constant crowds for

they are nothing alone

beware the average man the average woman

beware their love, their love is average

seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred

there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you

to kill anybody

not wanting solitude

not understanding solitude

they will attempt to destroy anything

that differs from their own

not being able to create art

they will not understand art

they will consider their failure as creators

only as a failure of the world

not being able to love fully

they will believe your love incomplete

and then they will hate you

and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond

like a knife

like a mountain

like a tiger

like hemlock

their finest art

I AM A SCIENTIST, BOW!

Please remind me to go back in here and write.  It'll keep me busy and steady.  It'll keep my mind at ease.  And it'll stop the jumping and busy people in my head to chill.  Somehow, or I just might either look for another way to loosen up, fix something, clean something, and destroy or break something anew.  Just like in everyday when one gets to find the right routine, and the acceptable which is the everyday life.  And the days and the days that would follow.  

I have to review the things that's happening right now.  Television and this invention, contraption.  This privilege and honor to just write. As what Steve Bachman always reminds writers that the the secret to writing is "Just Write".  Perhaps everything would follow.

Last night it was reported that there was a total lunar eclipse.  Not that I care so much for it, the reason is, when the local radio station reported it on TV.  I just saw the sky. Just from the windows I suppose. And there was nothing there.  Oh dear, I tried looking out to peek but saw nothing again.  It's just the streetlight. I didn't see it. 

Total Lunar Eclipse: a phenomenon that does not come everyday as they claim.  They also reported that the eclipse would happen in series giving exact dates, predicting its appearance.  Have you heard about the Holographic Moon?  Oh dear, perhaps right now is the fad is uninteresting to me.  Am I more preoccupied with something else What's going on?

Television and this invention, contraption.  This privilege and honor to just write. As what Steve Bachman always reminds writers that the the secret to writing is "Just Write".  Perhaps everything would follow.

Let me go back to whatever that is bugging me or just what is happening in my mind today.  Have you read about the story of King "Word Processor of the Gods"? Or better yet that story where a writer discovered that there were mystic beings living under his typewriter.  I'm not sure anymore if that is the right title.  But that story is about some dude who learned that there are living beings under his typewriter, he decides to feed them with bread crumbs?  I am not sure anymore if what he fed them beings like dwarfs or I don't really know.  And I can still remember that phrase "FORNIT SOME FORNUS".  Or dare I must say somehow is still stored in to my memory bank (brain).  

And Science... the big word that is SCIENCE.  Yes, we all studied science.  s.. sigh.  .. Ahchooo!  We are all scientists one way or another.  At least I can say so myself.  Look, how and how we're doing right now.  A lot of us now have handheld cameras and cellphones.  I may not know how it is made or came to be made or come into existence.  But what the heck, it is on my hand.  And not that I am being such an asshole about it, but it's just that it happened so fast.  How was that possible anyway? 

And we're getting old now.  I am a grown-up but it does not feel like I am.  What about you?  How do you feel about that? And mmmm.  Well , let me go back again to the word that is SCIENCE.  But it would be boring.  Chemistry, Mathematics, Astronomy, Biology, Entomology, Engineering, Architecture, and blah blah...The study and the study of this and that. 

Again, my coffee lost its kick.  I might need another cup.  And it really is boring,  Is it?