December

December, the unwelcoming cold greets me with a blast of frigid air hitting my exposed face. I think its finalized I do suffer from SAD, seasonal affective disorder. Try as I have every single year to look for some sort of respite in these dead months I have found no reconciliation. One may look for Christmas to support him through, but I was never a fan of archetypical jolly grandfathers parading in red suits. Who are these men behind the strap on beards? I can only imagine the loneliness and sorrow these jolly St. Nicks possess surrounded by frantic parents and their ungrateful children. The level of anxiety in shopping malls is boiling over; the amount of colourful moulded plastic sitting on fully stocked shelves was enough to make me vomit in my mouth. I swallowed this horrific air conditioned nightmare with a blank face and I took it all in with little emotion, repressing the desire to burn all these motherfucking malignant tumours that attract thousands of flocking consumers to their spiritual deaths. “what malevolent Buddha was at work here?” I thought. cynically I pictured a fat 12 year old kid guzzling down mountain dews, mowing Pringles and Twinkies to the sweet sound of a humming x-box 360. “MOM!!!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!!!” his fat jiggling in a fit. Im not sure what is more pathetic, the kid, or the mother that enables his selfish musings. I giggled to myself inappropriately. I guess that is what happens when you get a generation fed with a silver spoon, legions of fat white kids. Sigh* the west is dying. The American dream has become a nightmare. It needs to be flushed if humanity expects to survive, I have no problem of the thought of our extinction. Its just ironic how if that was the case there would be nobody to witness the beauty of a peaceful earth. Perhaps it’s better off that way. Calgary is a city on its knees; a city filled with legions of Willie Loman’s, the death of a salesman. I wonder if this city will ever wake up beyond the narrow sight of materialistic incarceration, or will these sheep just keep mulling along stupefied, needing to unconsciously defend their egos from a glimmering reality. I suppose it’s a gap that needs to be filled, still a perfect manifestation of spirit, just an ugly manifestation is all. Regardless, its time for me to consider leaving this hopeless place behind, I feel like a tiger cornered by squealing pigs……so tempted to bite into their tainted filthy flesh…..but I am afraid ill turn into one of them eventually. What am I to do?

Theirs a light that beckons me west, a light with vitruvian proportions, a golden spiral that leads into the dark waters of the unknown. I want to be led blindly by this light, but somewhere along the line I am afraid it will dim and eventually leave me out in the pitch black. is this light red? Or is it blue? Is it both or neither? This gleaming opportunity has the potential to illuminate a co-creative process that may be my only chance. unfortunately, I have a memory that clings to a painful experience that is frightfully similar to this opportunity. The pain suffered has branded a scar that reminds me not to heedlessly fall so quickly. I am conflicted. Once again my heart beckons me to reach out into the darkness, but my mind and all of its limitations tells me it isn’t safe. I need to be sure, my intuition is stumped and divided. I am blessed but also troubled by the level of my sensitivity. The spectrum of my emotions and feelings are infinite, i can feel extreme highs but because I am able to climb so high, I can just as easily fall equal distance into infinite despair. Lost in rapture, I am a victim of my feelings, it’s a beautiful struggle and I would rather have felt the deepest pain than nothing at all. Perhaps I have already fallen in love, and my ego is trying desperately to cling onto its self centered tendencies, giving me a fragmented view. how deep does this love go I wonder, I suppose there is only one way to find out. What am I willing to sacrifice for this? Because once I cross the tipping point there is no turning back. My mind is making excuses to fabricate complexities out of something that is rather very simple. Torn between wisdom and compassion, God, and Goddess, ascent and descent, I and I need to sit down and communicate. This spiralling light holds the key to my full potential, my original face. The thing is, will I be satisfied in this altruistic reality or would I be happier in the self induced delusional world of aesthetically pleasing exteriors. My god I am in love! But is it with you or is it a narcissistic endeavour. How do I bring both of these worlds together in a non dualistic fashion? I look towards the inner emptiness of the vast expanse, a blissful canvas of infinite potential of infinite manifestation for that answer. i seek to hold your hand and peer into these sacred mirrors. Accommodate this vacant heart. Let me feel the stroke of your paintbrush on my blank sheet of paper. Paint a portrait, paint it black, or leave it blank, these are our choices.