Day No.746: Just another day.

Good.  Today I ran at 9.30am.  With Ed.  It was so hot my shorts nearly caught fire.  Other than that being agnostic is great.  Otherwise I might have interpreted it as burning shorts.  No, nobody's talking to me.  

Sun's so hot, so much nuclear reaction there.  Mr Kim must be so jealous.  But what he really needs is a haircut.  But when one is so obsessed with attaining the power of the sun, one tends to forget what a good haircut is.   Perhaps when he kicks the proverbial bucket, he could feel the power of the sun instead on being lowered 6 feet under.  I pity the man.  Misguided missle.  

I'm taking more than the usual pictures.  Well, I've got the H5.  It's a start.  Hopefully I see the fjords and those damn northern lights.  Those, of course, before I kick the bucket as well.

My chemicals are not balanced today.  Don't feel good.  Not happy.  Perhaps I did not complete my quota of good deeds.  Wait, then everyone should be depressed.  I rest my case.  

Day No. 744: Getting ready.

This year will be different.
I have plotted the road.  It's so damn long.  Luckily I've planned.  I will survive the onslaught of pain.  The pain tearing at the seams.  When it comes it will be the most sensational.  Maybe I will cry, but I will finish.  I thank Ed.  Thanks for running with me.  Or I'd question my mental will without you.

Remember Kurt Vonnegut.  God bless the man.  I'm still agnostic.  But if he does exist, bless his soul.  He's been through the giant contraption which we're still figuring how to operate.  The wheels keep on turning.  I'm glad I've met his spirit. Ask ask ask. Always question.  Otherwise we're lost?

I'm lost.  I'm forgetting.  Luckily I have a camera.  Too many blind spots in my brain.  My memory will be lost in bytes.  Where I leave it in writing, the memory is gone.  One day you will forget me, and maybe I will not be afraid no more.  I will not forget to write, this is all I can do, and when it's done and dusted, it will be swept under the sea of voices.  

Day No. 704: How many circles.

We come into this world alone.  And then, when we die, we come a full circle.  We die alone.  Nobody dies with us unless someone dropped a bomb.  That's man made.  Full of surprises there.  Man's ability to disrupt the chi, the natural order of things.  We are the interloper.  We chop and we change and when we see that we cross the line, we control.  Yes, the ability to rein it in and write a magical number.  We are the masters and we are left unchecked.  We check ourselves.  Everyday, in front of the mirror, in history books, in eulogies, in computer programmes.  In it we see our inperfection.  We mask by denial, by sweeping under, by keeping quiet, by rhetoric.  This, the human face always change beyond recognition.  If there is a God, does he recognize man?  Are we beyond his grasp?  Are we out of his control?  

Day No. 693: Moving chains under my feet.

Pretty soon, when my bubbles burst, the soles will hurt too much.  My feet burns under the the leather and rubber.  No piggy back ride for me, I am a guy, guys don't get piggy back rides.  We are too heavy.  The things we carry are too heavy.  Lay it down, lay your burden down, and drink in the rivers.  Into the rivers I cleanse my soul, swept by its undertow.  I will never revel in the dream, always dragging the chains, the bind me to the earth.  

This island is not quiet...  as I walk upon the shores... the land is never still, time never ceases to stand still as I open these eyes.  I want to close them and listen to want I want and not what I need.  Oh, saint of the gutters, 
you have gone too soon.  
We don't grow but we change new clothes and we are still the same, 
always chained to this Earth.

Day No.689: 34 Degrees Celcius

I wonder what's more hot, absolute temperature or emotional temperature?  I think the answer's relative.  I haven't slept like a log so everything else seems either hot or orange in colour.  My cell's orange so, that doesn't help.  I haven't ran for a week.  My cellmate hasn't called either.  Emotionally, I'm getting stronger I think.  Friedrich Nietzsche didn't kill me so I'm happy at least.  I wonder if people are getting stupid, like they are de-evolving into sub intelligent spicies, people with opposable thumbs yet behaving like 10 year olds.  

I wish other cell mates happiness, yet they seem to have underestimated the weight of it.  I purely meant spiritual happiness and contentment, anything else seems purely superficial, like looking at Dorian Gray.  

Everything swept under a rug
Nobody cares but desires a better
Thing on themselves
Doesn't it feel heavy?
The human centre is wrecked
by colours and smell
They cannot see beyond
what is in front of them
A dead picture, so many
We haven't really grown
For the past two thousand years.
Sorry Plato, sorry Jesus.
We didn't learn.  Sorry.

Day No. 676: Nat Naidar is born.

Today, I ate some chicken, now I'm getting hot inside, no good. I'm getting restless and my mind speaks in 4 different languages, telling me to stop thinking. How can I think when they're all talking at the same time?

Chickens are birds which die of a disease caused by man and then it comes around. Man I feel that if we keep this up, what kills us is not the bomb but by our stupid need to burn the fuel like forever and ever. God, make it stop.

Where do we go from here? Where do I go? Why do I answer so many questions that need no answering? I need an answering machine. I swear to you I'm so tired. Not of living but of life. I need a chemical alteration.

I need to be reborn, the opposite of me undone by my willingness to lie on this bed of thorns. It hurts but I must sleep.

Day No. 487: Chemicals rule us.

Ever wonder why you're happy? That's because of your genetic tape. You feed your genetic need with the correct chemicals and voila! you become chemically balanced. Otherwise everyone always looks at the superficial level. For me, I got my coffee fix today, ate some duck, listen to Leno, take a long run. Those are my chemical fixes. I fix myself. It's all about the individual. Then there's everthing around you pulling in all directions and you womder if everyone's thinking about the same thing. No. Fact is, everyone drives everone nuts. That's where rules apply. Keeping within boundaries. My turf and yours. Everyone wants a piece of the land. Where's that gonna go? You can't go anywhere without people asking for a damn piece of paper. Everything can pull you apart but it's you who's going to pull it together. The individual. It's a wonder why we're still alive. Fear.