The rebels of my round merry arsehole

I catch myself running. I have to be smarter than the ones who chase me. It’s guerilla war. They never show their faces or true intentions. They hide behind the mask of acquaintances or friends.  They are the ‘oh poor me’ or the ‘I’ll criticize the most irrelevant things with a personal attack’ garden variety enemies. On their own they amount to shit, but they represent dogma, fear, self-righteousness. They are the vessels for the Powers That Be. I smile, nod, run. Don’t look back. Don’t answer.  Just flee, dodge, laugh, put on some fantastic music. Don’t even bother.

These ‘lovely’ chaps are dangerous in only one way. If you don’t see them for what they are and you let them in your life and secrets, you are in trouble. Their beady rat eyes observe everything and evaluate everything. Because thinking is hard, they judge*, and everything that does not fit their idea of acceptable is immediately a reason to tell you their opinion. They are not jealous, but envious. They began their lives as rebels, but lacking the guts to back their convictions, they gave up. They occupy a couch, shoot opinions on everything (especially matters related to your life and choices) and shake their heads on how you can possibly be so gullible and immature. Or they have always been underdogs. Woe is me. Please pity me, oh poor me. Pity pity pity. Hard titty said the kitty. Eat my panties.

I sometimes wish I could tell them my opinion without any censorship. However, this is what they do, and come on now, I’d never do that. Besides I am not here to tell anyone my opinion on anything. If they can’t see they are being assholes, who am I to enlighten them? My job here is to fantasise about my glorious hero Nuare spending hours pleasing my gorgeous hero Nemeryl. Or the Archduke of Vantir, Aristius, paying homage with his lips to the flesh of his stunning L’etilian slave and-king-to- be, Liland. My job is to watch good series, movies, read engrossing books. I live to serve myself and my own pleasure on all levels, and be kind to those who love me, and not behead those lacking the good taste to do so. My cats worship me. If cats worship me all humans should stand in awe of my personal achievement. Bwa ha ha!

Other than that, I have editing to do. So long, and thanks for all the pageviews. :P

*Carl Jung said that.

Some thoughts on this blog.

1. In a few months from now (October), it will be 10 years since I created it. Imagine that. Ten whole years of me banging the keyboard like a manic orangutan.
2. I changed the font size of the entire blog, including past posts, to make it easier to read. I hope this is indeed the case.
3. I love this blog. It is surreal and profane and sad, just like its creator. It is also honest, and not mundane to the degree I could help it. I am responsible for it and it has grown into something important.
4. I don't advertise it and yet it seems that it has its own bizarre readership, at least judging from the number of page views and flags. Which is great, I am not complaining. But weird. I wonder who those people are and what they are trying to achieve by reading my inane musings and my rants. Oh well, pointless to wonder. Thank you for reading it anyway.
5. I am thinking about organising a small 'thank you' giveaway of some kind on the anniversary of its creation. Then again, I may by that time be in Australia, or dead. Or both.

It's very late. I should be sleeping, especially considering how late I slept yesterday. I just 'love' my insomnia bouts; nothing better than lying in bed jumping out of your skin at every single noise. Presently I am eating strawberries and seriously considering writing an article for a newspaper. I have no idea if they will accept it or not, but if this happens, I will let you know.

Moments of happiness

Sunrise sunset moeraki boulders new zealand

They are fleeting, like a flutter or a passing breeze.

Stepping out of my house I feel the light wind touching my face. The smell of jasmine caresses my nostrils and there is a near full moon in the sky. It resembles a giant precious stone that bleeds pearly light in uneven waves and patterns around it. The branches of the nearest pine tree move slowly. And for a moment there is no tomorrow, today, or yesterday. My heart fills to the brim, and I am happy. I'm not stressed with job hunting, I don't care about the fate of humanity, I don't worry about anything. I am fully there. My senses are full, and there is nothing I need and nothing I miss. I am whole.

I have only experienced this deep happiness while being outdoors and alone.

Music of excellent quality also creates landscapes I can temporarily reside in and find quiet, or excitement. That is why I collect good music in the manner other humans collect precious stones. Each favourite song is for me a sanctuary I can hide in until the 'storm' I am facing runs its course. Favourite albums are safe houses, places I can revisit. I make sure not to visit them too often because they lose their magic.

I don't need luxury. I don't need expensive gifts. I enjoy a good, soft bed, good food, nice conversation. I like beautiful landscapes. I like my aloneness. A single tree can make me happy. A sunset. The night sky. A good book. Cake. A massage. I don't need expensive shoes, bags, mobiles. I don't need much to be content.

Bearing that in mind, it's nothing less than strange how happiness eludes me...

I need to find a job and move away from my family. I really do. Alone is the key.