Feel Alive!

Choose to be whomever you please; imaginary or real.

Tuesday, December 31, 2013


He says something and then all of the weight is lifted.

Tuesday, December 17, 2013


No thing is ever done wrong.
The only wrong you could do is nothing at all.

Waking Life - Revisited

From one of my posts in 2010, GOD I love this movie so much, and specifically this scene.

"It's just that moment, which is holy. You know, like this moment, it's holy. But we walk around like it's not holy. We walk around like there's some holy moments and there are all the other moments that are not holy, right, but this moment is holy, right? But, like, who can live that way? Who can go, "Wow, holy"? Because if I were to look at you and just really let you be holy, I don't know, I would, like, stop talking."

"Well, you'd be in the moment, I mean ...."


"The moment is holy."

"Yeah, but I'd be open. And then I'd look in your eyes, and I'd cry, and I'd like feel all this stuff and that's like not polite. I mean it would make you feel uncomfortable."

(Long moments pass with them staring at each other)

"Everything is layers, isn't it?"


"I mean, there's the holy moment and then there's the awareness of trying to have the holy moment, in the same way that film is the actual moment really happening, but then the character pretending to be in a different reality. And it's all these layers. And, uh, I was in and out of the holy moment looking at you. Can't be in a holy ..."

What a great scene.

Like a skater

large empty vessel
void is full of potential
clean soil, laid on the ground
picked up, tossed around
what is emptyness but a need to be filled,
can we fill ourselves with temporary pleasure,
with pleasurable time, with time to spare?
is there criteria which must be met
to be good enough for the space unkept?
judgement on the soul level
....nothing good enough yet.
drop in on the bowl, let the heart explode
with momentum, desire, that falling feeling
you're always waiting for in life
in the small things you know
probably wont fulfill you.

Poem and holdem

But what happens now?
Now that opportunity's been presented twice,
not just once, but TWICE,
and you saw it, spit on it,
you retreated and neglected it.
You've made your own bed
and now you must lay in it.
     ...only for a while.
           Cause your insides die, slowly, daily.
           The pain eats you up, weighs you down,
           it doesn't let you go until the source has been found.
And where will the source be found?
Isn't it already there, burning your soft, pale flesh?
Doesn't it surround you and show its face in the mornin glow?
Rise in the east, set in the west, the oldest tale true to the test?
     ...and yet
             you STILL won't acknowledge its presence.
             It's effect on you.
             The vitamins it's feeding you.
             The quality of life it brings you.
You'll turn a blind eye, pretend it's not true.
The fear of burning will cloud your view.

Guess you'll be coming back to life many times over to play it again.
Over and over again, until you get it right.

...Just shut the hell up

The pain in your chest
no longer believing
that patience is a virtue,
one that will heal the wounds
you've inflicted upon yourself.
The days roll by,
one foot in front of the other,
worried, someday, you might get caught
in the wheel that's turning, perpetuating,
waiting for you to make up your mind,
to let it all out, to speak the truth
and to release suffering.
Inward, downward,
deeper than expected,
the answers are there...
just shut the hell up and listen.