words from B.K

"C'mon, You cant spend your life sleeping"

B.A.

Cowardice

Anthony Williams says that the world seems threatening to cowards. they seek the false security of a life void of great challenges, and arm themselves heavily in order to defend that which they think they posses. Cowards are victims of their own egos, and in the end erect the bars of their own prisons..

Paulo Coelho

Christina Lamb ( Sunday Times, April 25 2005)

“I have everything, but I’m not happy. And I’m not the only one either . . . Some people appear to be happy, but they simply don’t give the matter much thought. Others make plans: I’m going to have a husband, a home, two children, a house in the country. As long as they’re busy doing that, they’re like bulls looking for the bullfighter: they react instinctively, they blunder on, with no idea where the target is. They get their car, sometimes they even get a Ferrari, and they think that’s the meaning of life, and they never question it. Yet their eyes betray the sadness that even they don’t know they carry in their soul . . .”

via: paulocoelhoblog

Yeezey speaks 1

taking from Kanye West blog

Khalil Gibran / Marriage

“You were born together,
and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings
of death scatter your days.
Aye, you shall be together even in the
silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love.
Let it rather be a moving sea between
the shores of your souls.
…

And stand together, yet not too near together.
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress
grow not in each other’s shadow.”

What ever old man, bye old man

The girl approached the old man perched on the bench Surrounded by an invisible void. A void created by the evading steps of those who looked, saw, and turned away, squinting in disgust because of the boastful smell of shit and urine, or the sour taste that becomes of their own tongues, when witnessing the mans gaudy ugly face.

A girl meets his gaze and enters the void - points and says:
'look at that squirrel, AAaaaw its so cute!' She was accustom to the mans smell, and his face.

'Squirrels have no place on this earth' The man said avoiding the girls hovering finger...

'I thought you like squirrels'

'Hmph!...' The man shrugged.

'What do you mean hmph old man! last time you were feeding him, and with a smile on your face while you did it', The man could see she was irritated 'and you told me to be careful not to frighten him away'.

He sighed

'Well?' She waited for a response

'Squirrels don't know love', was the mans response

'Huh?'

'........' he responded with nothing this time

'I said huh!?' After she yelled her mouth hung open, making a face confused.

Looking into her eyes, with his own glazed, he explained himself;

'They look cute, yeah they do, but only to take from you the little that you have. expecting everything they'll come close, pretending to be your friends. once they've had their full, their off, they only allow enough space to take from you, but they never come close enough for you to touch them. they take though they're afraid'

Though the girls hand was empty she bent low and stretched mimicking an offering to the squirrel. the squirrel bounced towards her, with its tail curling as cute as can be. when it realized the trick it bounced closer then stood on two legs, and with smooth flicks of its tail demanded food.

The man flinched and drooped Stella, the can hit the ground and rolled in a semi circle wasting itself on the concrete. scared of being beat down by the can the squirrel retreated into the green of the grass.

'Whats the matter with you, w, why, whats scaring you?' the girl was obviously confused

' Do you not feel fear when in the presence of the absence of love'
The mans tone was different now, he invoked the presence of those who watch, he inspired a respect the girl never felt for him before.

'But its only a squirrel' The girl said with her own tone now calm. She then mustered up the courage to say
'You always change old man.. You always change what you say and do, your always contradicting yourself'.

The man eased up a little from his position and spoke with glaze now missing from his eyes.

' Why..?' he paused ' why be stubborn...? why be stubborn?' he repeated himself but this time as if speaking to himself. Then came another paused 'I might believe I'm a fish but why should i continue to behave like I'm a fish when i realize other wise' He relaxed back again, looked up, and stared beyond the clouds. After tens seconds he spoke

'You haven't known me for long, but before you knew me, i had less, i had no place, but now i have a home, a home to me alone. A space that no one enters unless i invite, a space that people respect is mine.'

The girl who was slouched low was now sitting on the dust of the concrete with her legs crossed, absorbing what he was saying but unsure what to do with it.

The man continued 'What I do, and what I say, is only a result what I believe now...and nothing more'

The girl wondered if he was finished

I was once that way, now I am this way. Pride can hinder change, and change is everything'


The girl didn't understand.
Then she did understand.
But she couldn't say 'I understand'.

Instead, she rose turned the other way, started to walk and said,' what ever old man, bye old man'...



published by me

...

"YOUR DESIRE TO STAY THE SAME IS WHAT ULTIMATELY LIMITS YOU"

-Puppet Master. Ghost in the Shell

First of all you have to show your eyes

“Meetings. That was precisely my mistake with you. Instead of sending a bunch of e-mails, I should have shown right away that I was made of flesh and blood. When I failed to get an answer from a politician, I went and knocked on his office door and he told me: “If you want something, first of all you have to show your eyes.” That’s what I have done ever since then and I have had nothing but good results. We can have all the available means of communication in the world, but nothing, absolutely nothing takes the place of the human look.”

AN excerpt from the short story "The importance of looking" -Paulo Coelho
..

The Necessary MAN

Manuel needs to be busy. Otherwise he feels that life has no meaning, that he is wasting his time, that society has no need for him, nobody loves him, nobody wants him.

So as soon as he wakes up e has a whole set of tasks to do: watch the news on the television (something may have happened during the night), read the newspaper (something may have happened yesterday), ask his wife not to let the children be late for school, get the car, a taxi, a bus, the subway, but always concentrated, looking into the vacuum, consulting his watch, if possible making a few calls on his cell phone – and making sure that everyone sees that he is an important man, a man useful to the world.

Manuel arrives at work and starts to pore over the pile of paper that awaits him. If he is an employee, he does everything possible for the boss to notice that he arrived on time. If he is the boss, he sets them all to work right away; if there are no important tasks to do, Manuel will see to developing some, creating some, implementing a new plan, establishing new lines of action.

Manuel goes to lunch – but never alone. If he is the boss, he sits down with his friends, discusses new strategies, speaks badly of the competitors, always keeps a card hidden up his sleeve, complains (with a touch of pride) about being overworked. If Manuel is an employee, he also sits down with his friends, complains about the boss, says he is working a lot of overtime, claims in despair (and with a touch of pride) that so much at the firm depends on him.

Manuel – boss or employee – works the whole afternoon. From time to time he looks at his watch, it’s time to go home but he still has a detail to solve here, a document to sign there. He is an honest man; he wants to justify his salary, what others expect of him, the dreams of his parents who went to such great pains to give him the necessary education.
Finally he returns home. He takes a shower, gets into some comfortable clothes and sits down to have dinner with his family. He asks the children about school, his wife how she spent the day. Now and again he talks about his work, just to serve as an example – because he does not like to bring worries home. Dinner over, the children – who are not the least bit interested in examples, duties or any such things – immediately leave the table and go to sit in front of the computer. Manuel too goes to sit down in front of that old apparatus from his childhood called the television. Again he watches the news (something may have happened in the afternoon).

He always goes to bed with some technical book on the bedside table – whether boss or employee, he knows that the competition is great and that if you do not keep up, you run the risk of losing your job and then have to face the worst of all curses: unemployment.

He talks to his wife for a while – after all, he is a gentle, hardworking and loving man who cares for his family and is ready to defend it in any circumstances. Sleep comes soon and Manuel falls asleep knowing that the next day he will be very busy, so he needs to recoup his energies.

That night Manuel has a dream. An angel asks him: “Who do you do this?” He replies that he is a responsible man.

The angel then asks: “Would you be able to stop just for fifteen minutes during the day and look at the world, at yourself, and just do nothing?” Manuel says that he would love to, but he does not have the time for that. “You’re trying to fool me,” says the angel. “Everybody has the time for that, what they lack is courage. Work is a blessing when it helps us to think about what we are doing. But is becomes a curse when its only use is to prevent us from thinking about what our life means.”

Manuel wakes up in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat. Courage? How can a man who sacrifices himself for his family not have the courage to stop for fifteen minutes?

Best to go back to sleep, it’s only a dream, such questions lead nowhere, and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.

-Paulo Coelho

A SOUND SOUL RESIDES WITHIN A SOUND MIND AND A SOUND BODY

- MAKA ALBARN - Soul Eater

GAY = SIN

GAY = SIN from Matthew Brown on Vimeo.

VIA: dropular

This video touched me a little bit.
i remember a conversation i once had with friend about Homosexuality. At the time my argument was that i thought it was wrong because it goes against what is natural to humans which is to reproduce, but i had no hate towards those who were gay. i remember my friend saying 'gays have been apart of the human race since forever, so how how can it be wrong, or bad, or a sin'. I replied 'so has murder'....This conversation was around 3 years ago i was 19 at the time. Today i see things more in Grey, and tend not to necessarily put things and behavior into white and black boxes of rite and wrong. But what i have learnt is that we all have our own ways, desire's, and attitudes, and there aren't enough rules in the world to constrain them....

There are some things that even my closest friends get up to that i don't agree with. As humans we share likes and dislikes, but sometimes we don't. There are no rules to say we should all be the same..............Its interesting that it seems allot of the time to be our motivation within society- to persuade others into our own ways of thinking.

JUMP

At times i feel guilty for finding beauty in some things..


















9/11 Suicide Photograph - They began jumping not long after the first plane hit the North Tower, not long after the fire started. They kept jumping until the tower fell. They jumped through windows already broken and then, later, through windows they broke themselves. They jumped to escape the smoke and the fire; they jumped when the ceilings fell and the floors collapsed; they jumped just to breathe once more before they died. They jumped continually, from all four sides of the building, and from all floors above and around the building’s fatal wound. They jumped from the offices of Marsh & McLennan, the insurance company; from the offices of Cantor Fitzgerald, the bond-trading company; from Windows on the World, the restaurant on the 106th and 107th floors — the top. For more than an hour and a half, they streamed from the building, one after another, consecutively rather than en masse, as if each individual required the sight of another individual jumping before mustering the courage to jump himself or herself. One photograph, taken at a distance, shows people jumping in perfect sequence, like parachutists, forming an arc composed of three plummeting people, evenly spaced. Indeed, there were reports that some tried parachuting, before the force generated by their fall ripped the drapes, the tablecloths, the desperately gathered fabric, from their hands. They were all, obviously, very much alive on their way down, and their way down lasted an approximate count of ten seconds. They were all, obviously, not just killed when they landed but destroyed, in body though not, one prays, in soul. One hit a fireman on the ground and killed him; the fireman’s body was anointed by Father Mychal Judge, whose own death, shortly thereafter, was embraced as an example of martyrdom after the photograph — the redemptive tableau — of firefighters carrying his body from the rubble made its way around the world.

VIA : youmightfindyourself

...Thoughts...

This world is much worst in our minds

AIB Story PT1

Ive been accepted into AIB To study "Animation Production BA HONS" Here's the tale of my journey through my soul, and the battles fought with the demons on my road to where i want to be, and where I'm finally going.

without realizing it i had absolutely no belief in myself whats-so-ever. Whithout going into specific details-i almost failed my foundation course in Art and Design THREE TIMES. The reason being would be; it seems i was just simply lazy, or if your feeling a little more sympathetic towards me you might say maybe the course i wasn't for me and i lacked the enthusiasm for it. 26 weeks(roughly) into the course, I'm certain my reasons for my seemingly lack of dedication, interest, and smiling(Smiles on my face have been seldom) for the most part of this course have been due to my non-existsnt belief in my ability to succeed, my ability to acheive, my ability to please myself, my ability to do what the fuck i want to do.
Sound strange? i can imagine it might. The thought of it at first weirded me out, i believed it not possible but a chain of recent events leads me to stand firm in believing so.

Belief is everthing. Doubt is everything other. Belief in yourself above all else,

How do you end up with a heart filled with doubt? : Grow to become an adult.
(in other words; mature with age)

How do you overcome disbelief? : Do the impossible.
(in other words; do what u think to be impossible)

When i was young i didn't believe in myself, neither did have any disbelief. I merely did as i pleased, i focused on pleasing myself rather than my ability to.
With age Ive learnt from circumstance-the people around me-ideas of not deserving, and ideas of in-ability.

The truth is i never thought id make it into the art college Im in now in the first place. A year later again i didnt think id be accepted into The institute in Bournemouth, which i have, and havnt yet celebrated....

Its funny how everyone can believe in you, and you don't believe in a thing.


part two of the story soon......

Paulo Coelho Gaurdian interview

Paulo Coelho talks to Hannah Pool

The Winner Stands Alone is your 12th novel. You describe it as "a stark portrait of where we are now". What you do mean by that?

I wrote it in February last year, before this [financial] collapse. We have lost contact with reality, the simplicity of life. This book is about how we complicate our lives and how our dreams are manipulated.

Your most successful book, The Alchemist, has sold 30m copies.

More than that. I think it's 35m. All together my books have sold 150m copies. You can add another 20% for pirated editions.

Is it true you wrote it in four weeks?

Two weeks. Yes. The book was already written in my soul.

When it first came out it was dropped by the publisher. Then what happened?

It was not dropped by the publisher. It was published, it did not sell, and then the publisher said, "This book is never going to sell" - which was worse than to be dropped. At least then you think, "Oh, I'll find another publisher." This way, when you go to another publisher they say, "Well, it was published and nobody's interested." However, I was so convinced it was a great book that I started knocking on doors. [Now] The Alchemist is the most translated book by a living author.

Do you really believe in angels?

Yes.

Have you seen one?

No, I never saw an angel, but it is irrelevant whether I saw one or not. I feel their presence around me. Not the classic angel with the wings etc, but you know that you are protected. This has nothing to do with esoteric things, it is your attitude towards life. When you are enthusiastic about what you do, you feel this positive energy. It's very simple. Everything is possible, from angels to demons to economists and politicians.

Some say your books have changed their lives; others are quite snobby about your work. Why is it so divisive?

This is not something I ever thought about. When I write a book I write a book for myself; the reaction is up to the reader. It's not my business whether people like or dislike it.

Do the critics hurt you?

No. Writers are lampposts and critics are dogs. Ask lampposts what they think about dogs. Does the dog hurt the lamppost?

How do you describe your books? Are they self-help?

No, I am not a self-help writer. I am a self-problem writer. When people read my books I provoke some things. I cannot justify my work. I do my work; it is up to them to classify it, to judge.

Some people see you as a guru. Do you accept that?

Of course not.

Is it flattering?

No. It's totally out of reality.

Are you a political writer?

Everybody is a political person, whether you say something or you are silent. A political attitude is not whether you go to parliament, it's how you deal with your life, with your surroundings. I am at least giving the readers the sense they are not alone. But instead of trying to answer the question, "What is the meaning of life?" I try to give some meaning to my life.

When you were 17 your parents had you committed to an asylum.

Yes, three times, and also I was in jail three times, but I never saw myself as a victim. This is part of my journey. My parents wanted me to follow their dreams, not my dreams, and the simple fact that I didn't accept that does not make me a criminal or an outcast. I thought, "One day I will write about it," and I did. I wrote Veronica Decides to Die, and the book was about this: accept your differences and this is how you make a difference.

Those experiences could make someone very angry and very politicised.

The jail experience did not make me angry. It made me scared. But that is worse - when you are angry, you react; when you are scared, you don't react, you just accept. It took me many years to overcome this fear, but time heals everything, love included

Via: Paulo Coelho's blog

WATCHMEN VS IMAX VS MY HEART

The Graphic novel was the best thing I've ever read.
The film was far from the best thing I've ever watched.
The IMAX just made it worst.

i wish not to speak about the event any further

Im sorry this post was shit

i had to get rid of it

the thoughts of things

you've never feared a thing.
you have merely been afraid of the thoughts of things.....

By the Grave side

Mothers day 2009
Cemetery
Grandmothers grave:

Me and an uncle from my dads side of the family, together clean then add and arrange flowers to my grand mothers tomb stone.

My uncle said "things have changed so much...life is hard..Life aint no joke".

I replied "Hmmmm".

But what he said left my mouth with the most bitter of tastes.
as he began with more morning moans of melancholy tones, i knelt above the slightly twisting, sinking earth of the grave, continued to place the flowers in a yellow and white assortment, wishing my uncle would leave. as i wasn't there to morn. i didn't know why i was there, maybe my reasons for being at the cemetery were to be alone, away from life.

I thought to myself; why do parents teach the innocent that life is hard, painful, troublesome. injecting doubt into kids. But they never teach you that lifes worth living.

"why is it possible to see beauty in all things"

Is there a god?

Ive seen photographers step through shit, and filth to take pictures of the most dull, and uninspiring scenes.

And I've seen giant photographs hanging in frames over bedheads of bedroom walls depicting the most dull and uninspiring scenes, but at the same time captures something inexplicable, something that the eye isn't seeing but what my soul feels, captivated in wonder, i stare.

this is not to say that beauty is easier experienced through the eyes of others, or photographs, I'm simply saying, its there, its everywhere, it just depends on how our awareness perceives it.

When i speak of beauty, i speak of the connection the word implies. the emotions that are generated. we deliver stories of Beauty when we are infected by warmth, serenity, and contentedness, we deliver stories of beauty when our hearts are touched by the hands of ...? can this really be true?

if beauty exist in all, and beauty is an energy we feel, then you could say the energy of all, is one. And oneness, is all. And maybe say even "God is"