world aids day

i'm off from work today so i made sure i caught up with sleep. woke up at a comfortable hour. showered and went downstairs to see what mum had cooked. she was glad that i decided to stay at home today. so am i.

had lunch while watching 'staying alive' on mtv. it's a show by Staying Alive to bring forth the current status of AIDS/HIV awareness around the globe. i found it really surprising to know that there still many many young people in the most advanced countries who know very little about AIDS/HIV. it is believed this is because of complacency. not knowing much makes one feel that he/she has no chance of getting AIDS/HIV. i think it is dangerously ridiculous for anyone to smile and claim that someone with AIDS would have tell-tale symptoms such as dark spots.

gawd!

the show also featured the efforts made to educate the masses in countries such as india, china and tanzania. these are the places where the number of people living with AIDS/HIV are the highest in the world. in india, there are about 5 million (mostly youngsters) . in china, 10 million. and in tanzania, every 7 out of 10 people have AIDS/HIV. i'll let that sink in...

india and china utilize the media and celebrities to spread the message and this includes tv shows and major films. but i like what they do in tanzania: performing arts. you see a group of people putting up a show on the streets. roadside theater! i'd love to go there just to watch the little kids in funky costumes doing funky dances while singing "KILL AIDS!"

it warms my heart greatly to see how people do whatever they can to take part in the fight against AIDS/HIV. these are our real heroes today.

my central message

"I convey this message to you whom I have stirred with the sound of my
voice. These words are my signature. You may bring your doubt, your fear,
your faith, or your courage; it matters not, for you will be touched by the
rhythm of my voice. It moves through you like a beam of light that sweeps –
if only for a moment – the darkness aside.

I dwell in a frequency of light in which finite beings cannot uncover me. If
you search for me, you will fail. I am not found or discovered. I am only
realized in oneness, unity, and wholeness. It is the very same oneness that
you feel when you are interconnected with all of life, for I am this and
this alone. I am all of life. If you must search for me, then practice the
feeling of wholeness and unity.

In my deepest light I created you from my desire to understand my universe.
You are my emissaries. You are free to journey the universe of universes as
particles from my infinite womb with destinies that you alone will write. I
do not prescribe your journey or your journey’s aim. I only accompany you. I
do not pull you this way or that, nor do I punish you when you stray from my
heart. This I do as an outcome of my belief in you.

You are the heirs of my light, which gave you form. It is my voice that
awakened you to individuality, but it will be your will that awakens you to
our unity. It is your desire to know me as your self that brings you to my
presence so perfectly hidden from your world. I am behind everything that
you see, hear, touch, taste, smell, feel, and believe.

I live for your discovery of me. It is the highest expression of my love for
you, and while you search for my shadows in the stories of your world, I,
the indelible, invisible light, grow increasingly visible. Imagine the
furthest point in space – beneath a black portal, cast in some distant
galaxy, and then multiply this distance by the highest numeric value you
know. Congratulations, you have measured an atom of my body.

Do you realize how I am unfathomable? I am not what you can know, or see, or
understand. I am outside comprehension. My vastness makes me invisible and
unavoidable. There is nowhere you can be without me. My absence does not
exist. It is this very nature that makes me unique. I am First Cause and
Last Effect connected in an undivided chain.

There is no supplication that stirs me. No prayer that invites me further
into your world unless it is attended with the feeling of unity and
wholeness. There is no temple or sacred object that touches me. They do not,
nor have they ever brought you closer to my outstretched hand. My presence
in your world is unalterable for I am the sanctuary of both the cosmos and
the one soul inside you.

I could awaken each of you in this very moment to our unity, but there is a
larger design – a more comprehensive vision – that places you in the
boundaries of time and the spatial dimensions of separateness. This design
requires a progression into my wholeness that reacquaints you with our unity
through the experience of separation. Your awakening, while slow and
sometimes painful, is assured, and this you must trust above all else.

I am the ancestral father of all creation. I am a personality that lives
inside each of you as a vibration that emanates from all parts of your
existence. I reside in this dimension as your beacon. If you follow this
vibration, if you place it at the core of your journey, you will contact my
personality that lives beneath the particles of your existence.

I am not to be feared or held in indifference. My presence is immediate,
tangible, and real. You are now in my presence. Hear my words. You are in my
presence. You are within me more than I am within you. You are the veneer of
my mind and heart, and yet you think yourself the product of an ape. You are
so much more than you realize.

Our union was, is, and will be forevermore. You are my blessed offspring
with whom I am intricately connected in means that you cannot understand and
therefore appreciate. You must suspend your belief and disbelief in what you
cannot sense, in exchange for your knowing that I am real and live within
you. This is my central message to all my offspring. Hear it well, for in it
you may find the place in which I dwell."

- Creator/God/First Cause
taken from Wingmakers

wise brought this awesome piece of work to my attention yesterday. it lies somewhere deep within the threshold of resources at www.wingmakers.com. it comes to me in perfect timing when i was so lost on the waves of uncertainty. but then again, eveything happens right on time...especially when you least expect it.

heropsychodreamer

i'm feeling lost in my bowl of soup.
twirls. encircling.
drawing me to the center.
deeper.
away, away.
my talon-grip on reality letting go.
i'm already soaring.
escaping.
i tilt my head back and spread my hands.

unjustifiable yearning

i may know love.
but i also recognise an addiction.
the need to be with. never without.
an unjustifiable yearning.

i crossed the street as quickly as i could. to avoid the drizzle and to avoid the cars.
the entire store was lit prettily. like a christmas tree.
the cold air hit me as i stepped through the glass doors. i knew within a few minutes my body would start to shiver.
i looked around. she wasn't in sight. she must be upstairs. as i ascended the stairs, i overheard the manager saying something to the staff downstairs. wished my manager was as kind. moje, for whom a smile is a weekly event.
as i reached the upper level, my fingers were almost numb. i found my hands delving deeper into my pockets. the cold is crazy.
and there she was in the crafts section, placing a book onto the shelf overhead. i went up to her, thinking of what i would say to startle her. then, she turned. as her eyes met mine, i forgot about the cold. beauty captivating the deepest folds within me.
'hi,' i managed.
'hey!'
that smile. she was startled anyway. yay.
the blood in my veins was about to freeze over but i didn't notice.
i was thankful for escaping the cold as we stepped outside.
i was thankful for her.
holding her gentle hand as we walked in the drizzle, talking of absolutely nothing.
the glances i stole at her were rewarding.
we stood beside her car for a good few minutes. both trying to ignore what's about to come.
i ran my fingers through her gorgeous hair as she drove.
as we stopped at the junction, i tasted her lips.
of course, i had difficulty tearing away. as always.
before stepping out, i touched her hand and looked into her eyes.
'i love you,' i whispered.
the raindrops did not help as i walked away.

pardon me while i burn

dear blog,
i know it has been quite a while since i've written. i found myself unable to find inspiration in anything at all. no motivation whatsoever. but that was just a phase (i hope) and it will come to an end. but it will take me a while to start writing again...or to do anything else for that matter.

had an excellent diwali.
in kuantan with uncles, aunts and kids.
bright faces, great company, great food.
even karaoke!
fair amount of revelations.
my magdalene was with me the whole time.
then i was blessed to meet Her at Telok Chempedak.
that half hour was the best in four days.
the taste of burnt strawberry and mint on her lips remains unforgettable.
a certain uncle was noticeably generous.
(un-)surprising joy.
now back in my room.
playlist of jimi and joe.
great amounts of responsiblity awaits.
project to work on.
should i get a job?



sorry, got carried away with my air-guitar.
satriani's a love thing.
suddenly admiring the glow that my curtains set across the room.

i'm not even sure why am i writing this way.

well she’s walking through the clouds
with a circus mind that’s running round
butterflies and zebras
and moonbeams and fairy tales
that’s all she ever thinks about
riding with the wind.

when I’m sad, she comes to me
with a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
it’s alright she says it’s alright
take anything you want from me, anything
anything.

fly on little wing

look ma, it's my clone!

human cloning: the review

in the final year of my multimedia degree course, i'm required to work on a project that essentially will determine the honors of my degree. i have decided to work on an information cd-rom on the topic of human cloning. this cd-rom will incorporate animated menus and videos as well as original background music and sound effects. the content of the cd-rom will consist of raw facts on human cloning: the processes involved, the different types of embryo cloning, etc. it will also feature the different opinions on cloning from ethical, religious and governmental perspectives. nothing biased.

in order to start work on this project, i wanted to get a clear insight on human cloning first. i started reading. i also asked around in my circles. i wanted to gather the general opinion on cloning. the subjects included those whose level-headedness and intellect i absolutely trust.

now, i'm able to formulate my own perspective of cloning involving humans. i asked around if a clone would have a soul, given that he/she grows up to be a perfectly normal human being with emotions, dreams, hopes, tears, pains and joys. then, i thought that if a clone had a soul then it would definitely mean that God is okay with it. now, i think that clones do have souls. i'd like to believe that souls use human bodies as vessels. we are merely vehicles that harbour our souls through this experience.

our souls have a purpose to fulfill in this life, and that is to experience certain aspects of this life. once fulfilled, the soul will leave the body and inhabit another for the next experience. for that purpose, i think that it is entirely possible that clones have souls. their souls would have their own purposes to fulfill.

so, do i think cloning should be encouraged? why not?

Human Rights Declaration

by Antares

There are two very basic human rights that are often overlooked. These very basic rights have far-reaching implications affecting the way we look at reality.

THE RIGHT TO LIVE

This right has historically been completely disregarded when those who wield hereditary power have decided to wage war. The military solution to economic, political or ideological conflicts is very rarely justified. Warmongering is an infringement of humanity’s right to live by its highest ideals. All those involved in war activities - which includes the development and manufacture of death-dealing devices - must be regarded as potential killers. Their thought-patterns and behaviour can be classified as pathological. I would extend this classification to those engaged in commercial and industrial activities that have deleterious long-term effects on the environment - because the right to live implies the right to a healthy natural environment.

The Death Penalty is a vestige of moral barbarism and I urge that it be abolished throughout the world.

THE RIGHT TO DIE

Now let’s look at another basic human right: the right to die. All forms of drug addiction may be regarded as subtle ways to commit suicide. And although we do what we can to discourage people from terminating their lives prematurely, the final prerogative belongs to the individual. We must respect the right of others to die, if they no longer wish to live. Therefore, I propose that all forms of drug addiction be decriminalized, and that drug addicts be regarded as potential suicides - and since the suicidal tendency is essentially a pathological condition, treatment or therapy must be freely provided to those who seek it.

I would like to see Malaysia’s mandatory death penalty for drug offences abolished. Stringent drug laws only serve to make the illicit drug trade more lucrative for criminal syndicates. Supply will drop dramatically – and, most likely, so will the demand - when addictive substances are available over the counter at regulated prices with the same quality controls as other consumer products.

Drug addiction may not disappear completely, but decriminalizing it will definitely relocate the problem where it belongs - in the medical, sociological and psycho-spiritual context.

outmost difficulty

for the first time in so long, i had trouble tearing myself away. i can understand why she didn't glance back for a wave or a smile as she drove away. it would have broken my heart further. it is like an addiction i cannot fathom. the more i am with her, the more i want to stay. but i had a heavenly time enjoying her. smiles. laughs. teases. and the simple beauty she beholds. i intended to treasure every moment we had. but now my heart breaks.

i need someone to convince me that it was not a dream. please.

777

that's the number displayed on the counter. it is also the 7th month since i started this blog. and yes, it is now 7pm. perfecto? absolutely.

i have been trying to analyse the most common and obvious effects of alcohol consumption. time travels faster. the ability to concentrate is greatly impaired and this in turn affects the ability to walk/talk/drive/ejaculate.

also, as with any psychoactive, alcohol does provide the temporary gift of alternate perception: you might look at something...anything...in a different light. you might be able to consider different opinions and possibilities.

quiet people become quieter. other quiet people become boisterous. boisterous people become more boisterous. i once knew this dude who itched for a fist-fight as soon as he's "there"; his tolerance then hangs by a thread. certain individuals tend to long for physical intimacy...i believe the term is "horny".

some tend to dwell in their emotions. unknowingly, they start pouring out whatever it is they have been suppressing within. pent-up hurts, anger and hate. in contrast, some become overly joyous and cheerful. i have heard of the possibility that someone's "true" personality is revealed in intoxication. creepy thought, that. then, happy is he who maintains his mask after downing a litre of good old russian vodka.

the following is from an article i found in the vaults of Erowid:

How Alcohol Works :
Alcohol is rapidly absorbed into the bloodstream from the small intestine, and less rapidly from the stomach and colon. In proportion to its concentration in the bloodstream, alcohol decreases activity in parts of the brain and spinal cord. The drinker's blood alcohol concentration depends on:

• the amount consumed in a given time
• the drinker's size, sex, body build, and metabolism
• the type and amount of food in the stomach.

Once the alcohol has passed into the blood, however, no food or beverage can retard or interfere with its effects. Fruit sugar, however, in some cases can shorten the duration of alcohol's effect by speeding up its elimination from the blood.

In the average adult, the rate of metabolism is about 8.5 g of alcohol per hour (i.e. about two-thirds of a regular beer or about 30 mL of spirits an hour). This rate can vary dramatically among individuals, however, depending on such diverse factors as usual amount of drinking, physique, sex, liver size, and genetic factors.

Effects :
The effects of any drug depend on several factors:

• the amount taken at one time
• the user's past drug experience
• the manner in which the drug is taken
• the circumstances under which the drug is taken (the place, the user's psychological and emotional stability, the presence of other people, the concurrent use of other drugs, etc.).

apparently,it is the amount of alcohol in the blood that causes the effects. that explains why certain individuals worship the toilet bowl all night with their puke after only 6-7 pegs.

another interesting fact about alcohol lies in the common rule that prohibits minors from consuming alcohol. this is because one's liver has not fully developed before he/she turns 18. once 18, the liver is said to be fully developed and is "ready" to face alcohol abuse. so kids, it's wise to listen to the law. for now.

sensory overload

of late, my perception of unconditional love seems real to me. complete rainbow love that knows no barriers and conditions. to love someone exactly as he/she is without judgement and prejudice. without regret and with bucketloads of sincere love.

and that is how i choose to love. completely to all. no exceptions. no limitations. however, because every individual is unique and special, therefore the love that i share is unique and special to the individual that my Spirit chooses to welcome. "shalom" i say to thee.

but the pain comes when its specialness and uniqueness are not recognised. those whom i love dearly demand me to love them exclusively. one over all. one and only.

i decided a long time ago that someone has the ability to pour out unconditional love to more than just one individual. so do i.

hurricane katrina - our experience

the following is the eyewitness report of two paramedics, Larry Bradshaw and Lorrie Beth Slonsky, who were attending a conference in New Orleans when Katrina hit. it is lengthy, but that is because it provides a whole different story than the papers and the news.

***********************************************************************

Two days after Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, the Walgreen's
store at the corner of Royal and Iberville streets remained locked. The
dairy display case was clearly visible through the windows. It was now
48 hours without electricity, running water, plumbing. The milk, yogurt,
and cheeses were beginning to spoil in the 90-degree heat. The owners
and managers had locked up the food, water, pampers, and prescriptions
and fled the City. Outside Walgreen's windows, residents and tourists
grew increasingly thirsty and hungry.

The much-promised federal, state and local aid never materialized and
the windows at Walgreen's gave way to the looters.There was an
alternative. The cops could have broken one small window and distributed
the nuts, fruit juices, and bottle water in an organized and systematic
manner. But they did not. Instead they spent hours playing cat and
mouse, temporarily chasing away the looters.

We were finally airlifted out of New Orleans two days ago and arrived
home yesterday (Saturday). We have yet to see any of the TV coverage or
look at a newspaper. We are willing to guess that there were no video
images or front-page pictures of European or affluent white tourists
looting the Walgreen's in the French Quarter.

We also suspect the media will have been inundated with "hero" images of
the National Guard, the troops and the police struggling to help the
"victims" of the Hurricane. What you will not see, but what we
witnessed, were the real heroes and heroes of the hurricane relief
effort: the working class of New Orleans. The maintenance workers, who
used a fork lift to carry the sick and disabled. The engineers, who
rigged, nurtured and kept the generators running. The electricians, who
improvised thick extension cords stretching over blocks to share the
little electricity we had in order to free cars stuck on rooftop parking
lots. Nurses, who took over for mechanical ventilators, spent many hours
on end manually forcing air into the lungs of unconscious patients to
keep them alive. Doormen, who rescued folks stuck in elevators. Refinery
workers, who broke into boat yards, "stealing" boats to rescue their
neighbors clinging to their roofs in flood waters. Mechanics, who helped
hot-wire any car that could be found to ferry people out of the city.
And the food service workers, who scoured the commercial kitchens,
improvising communal meals for hundreds of those stranded.

Most of these workers had lost their homes, and had not heard from
members of their families, yet they stayed and provided the only
infrastructure for the 20% of New Orleans that was not under water.

On Day 2, there were approximately 500 of us left in the hotels in the
French Quarter. We were a mix of foreign tourists, conference attendees
like ourselves, and locals who had checked into hotels for safety and
shelter from Katrina. Some of us had cell phone contact with family and
friends outside of New Orleans. We were repeatedly told that all sorts
of resources including the National Guard and scores of buses were
pouring in to the City. The buses and the other resources must have been
invisible because none of us had seen them.

We decided we had to save ourselves. So we pooled ourmoney and came up
with $25,000 to have ten buses come and take us out of the City. Those
who did not have the requisite $45.00 for a ticket were subsidized by
those who did have extra money. We waited for 48 hours for the buses,
spending the last 12 hours standing outside, sharing the limited water,
food, and clothes we had. We created a priority boarding area for the
sick, elderly and new born babies. We waited late into the night for the
"imminent" arrival of the buses. The buses never arrived. We later
learned that the minute the arrived to the City limits, they were
commandeered by the military.

By day 4 our hotels had run out of fuel and water. Sanitation was
dangerously abysmal. As the desperation and despair increased, street
crime as well as water levels began to rise. The hotels turned us out
and locked their doors, telling us that the "officials" told us to
report to the convention center to wait for more buses. As we entered
the center of the City, we finally encountered the National Guard. The
Guards told us we would not be allowed into the Superdome as the City's
primary shelter had descended into a humanitarian and health hellhole.
The guards further told us that the City's only other shelter, the
Convention Center, was also descending into chaos and squalor and that
the police were not allowing anyone else in. Quite naturally, we asked,
"If we can't go to the only 2 shelters in the City, what was our
alternative?" The guards told us that that was our problem, and no they
did not have extra water to give to us. This would be the start of our
numerous encounters with callous and hostile "law enforcement".

We walked to the police command center at Harrah's on Canal Street and
were told the same thing, that we were on our own, and no they did not
have water to give us. We now numbered several hundred. We held a mass
meeting to decide a course of action. We agreed to camp outside the
police command post. We would be plainly visible to the media and would
constitute a highly visible embarrassment to the City officials. The
police told us that we could not stay. Regardless, we began to settle in
and set up camp. In short order, the police commander came across the
street to address our group. He told us he had a solution: we should
walk to the Pontchartrain Expressway and cross the greater New Orleans
Bridge where the police had buses lined up to take us out of the City.
The crowed cheered and began to move. We called everyone back and
explained to the commander that there had been lots of misinformation
and wrong information and was he sure that there were buses waiting for
us. The commander turned to the crowd and stated emphatically, "I swear
to you that the buses are there."

We organized ourselves and the 200 of us set off for the bridge with
great excitement and hope. As we marched past the convention center,
many locals saw our determined and optimistic group and asked where we
were headed. We told them about the great news. Families immediately
grabbed their few belongings and quickly our numbers doubled and then
doubled again. Babies in strollers now joined us, people using crutches,
elderly clasping walkers and others people in wheelchairs. We marched
the 2-3 miles to the freeway and up the steep incline to the Bridge. It
now began to pour down rain, but it did not dampen our enthusiasm.

As we approached the bridge, armed Gretna sheriffs formed a line across
the foot of the bridge. Before we were close enough to speak, they began
firing their weapons over our heads. This sent the crowd fleeing in
various directions. As the crowd scattered and dissipated, a few of us
inched forward and managed to engage some of the sheriffs in
conversation. We told them of our conversation with the police commander
and of the commander's assurances. The sheriffs informed us there were
no buses waiting. The commander had lied to us to get us to move.

We questioned why we couldn't cross the bridge anyway, especially as
there was little traffic on the 6-lane highway. They responded that the
West Bank was not going to become New Orleans and there would be no
Superdomes in their City. These were code words for if you are poor and
black, you are not crossing the Mississippi River and you were not
getting out of New Orleans.

Our small group retreated back down Highway 90 to seek shelter from the
rain under an overpass. We debated our options and in the end decided to
build an encampment in the middle of the Ponchartrain Expressway on the
center divide, between the O'Keefe and Tchoupitoulas exits. We reasoned
we would be visible to everyone, we would have some security being on an
elevated freeway and we could wait and watch for the arrival of the yet
to be seen buses.

All day long, we saw other families, individuals and groups make the
same trip up the incline in an attempt to cross the bridge, only to be
turned away. Some chased away with gunfire, others simply told no,
others to be verbally berated and humiliated. Thousands of New Orleaners
were prevented and prohibited from self-evacuating the City on foot.
Meanwhile, the only two City shelters sank further into squalor and
disrepair. The only way across the bridge was by vehicle. We saw workers
stealing trucks, buses, moving vans, semi-trucks and any car that could
be hotwired. All were packed with people trying to escape the misery New
Orleans had become.

Our little encampment began to blossom. Someone stole a water delivery
truck and brought it up to us. Let's hear it for looting! A mile or so
down the freeway, an army truck lost a couple of pallets of C-rations on
a tight turn. We ferried the food back to our camp in shopping carts.
Now secure with the two necessities, food and water; cooperation,
community, and creativity flowered. We organized a clean up and hung
garbage bags from the rebar poles. We made beds from wood pallets and
cardboard. We designated a storm drain as the bathroom and the kids
built an elaborate enclosure for privacy out of plastic, broken
umbrellas, and other scraps. We even organized a food recycling system
where individuals could swap out parts of C-rations (applesauce for
babies and candies for kids!).

This was a process we saw repeatedly in the aftermath of Katrina. When
individuals had to fight to find food or water, it meant looking out for
yourself only. You had to do whatever it took to find water for your
kids or food for your parents. When these basic needs were met, people
began to look out for each other, working together and constructing a
community.

If the relief organizations had saturated the City with food and water
in the first 2 or 3 days, the desperation, the frustration and the
ugliness would not have set in.

Flush with the necessities, we offered food and water to passing
families and individuals. Many decided to stay and join us. Our
encampment grew to 80 or 90 people.

From a woman with a battery powered radio we learned that the media was
talking about us. Up in full view on the freeway, every relief and news
organizations saw us on their way into the city. Officials were being
asked what they were going to do about all those families living up on
the freeway? The officials responded they were going to take care of us.
Some of us got a sinking feeling. "Taking care of us" had an ominous
tone to it.

Unfortunately, our sinking feeling (along with the sinking City) was
correct. Just as dusk set in, a Gretna Sheriff showed up, jumped out of
his patrol vehicle, aimed his gun at our faces, screaming, "Get off the
fucking freeway". A helicopter arrived and used the wind from its blades
to blow away our flimsy structures. As we retreated, the sheriff loaded
up his truck with our food and water.

Once again, at gunpoint, we were forced off the freeway. All the law
enforcement agencies appeared threatened when we congregated or
congealed into groups of 20 or more. In every congregation of "victims"
they saw "mob" or "riot". We felt safety in numbers. Our "we must stay
together" was impossible because the agencies would force us into small
atomized groups.

In the pandemonium of having our camp raided and destroyed, we scattered
once again. Reduced to a small group of 8 people, in the dark, we sought
refuge in an abandoned school bus, under the freeway on Cilo Street. We
were hiding from possible criminal elements but equally and definitely,
we were hiding from the police and sheriffs with their martial law,
curfew and shoot-to-kill policies.

The next days, our group of 8 walked most of the day, made contact with
New Orleans Fire Department and were eventually airlifted out by an
urban search and rescue team. We were dropped off near the airport and
managed to catch a ride with the National Guard. The two young guardsmen
apologized for the limited response of the Louisiana guards. They
explained that a large section of their unit was inIraq and that meant
they were shorthanded and were unable to complete all the tasks they
were assigned.

We arrived at the airport on the day a massive airlift had begun. The
airport had become another Superdome. We 8 were caught in a press of
humanity as flights were delayed for several hours while George Bush
landed briefly at the airport for a photo op. After being evacuated on a
coast guard cargo plane, we arrived in San Antonio, Texas.

There the humiliation and dehumanization of the official relief effort
continued. We were placed on buses and driven to a large field where we
were forced to sit for hours and hours. Some of the buses did not have
air-conditioners. In the dark, hundreds if us were forced to share two
filthy overflowing porta-potties. Those who managed to make it out with
any possessions (often a few belongings in tattered plastic bags) we
were subjected to two different dog-sniffing searches.

Most of us had not eaten all day because our C-rations had been
confiscated at the airport because the rations set off the metal
detectors. Yet, no food had been provided to the men, women, children,
elderly, disabled as they sat for hours waiting to be "medically
screened" to make sure we were not carrying any communicable diseases.

This official treatment was in sharp contrast to the warm, heart-felt
reception given to us by the ordinary Texans. We saw one airline worker
give her shoes to someone who was barefoot. Strangers on the street
offered us money and toiletries with words of welcome. Throughout, the
official relief effort was callous, inept, and racist. There was more
suffering than need be. Lives were lost that did not need to be lost.

Even after all this time the sun never says to the earth, "you owe me".
Look what happens with a love like that, it lights the whole sky.

my magdalena

i was visited by a Goddess.
Her aura enveloped my being as She descended upon me.
Her face is of one i will never ever forget.
eyes and smiles.
i was constantly lost, wading through the depth of Her pupils.
tasteful is the color of Her skin.
Her hair falls around Her face, all-lustrous.
many a time would i gasp at Her touch.
static electricity.
as Her breath fills my spaces, i'm lost in the scent of Life.
i would die the moment Her lips comes in contact with my skin.
Her beautiful nakedness glorified at the holiest of altars.
She invites me in.
i bow down.
i'm unworthy.
through Oneness, She is celebrated.
She awards me with the Glimpse.
my very own and personal Magdalena...

my weekend

Prologue

i took a drag.
i felt like i was in a drama scene.
the spotlight was scathing the skin on my face.
"Director, kill that light, will ya? It's burnin' my corneas!"
then i realised it was the sun.

****************************************************************************
Chapter 1

a sage appeared. humble yet smug. clad in a brown hooded cloak. he stands at the rock and starts to describe something he probably has no idea about. maybe he does. but how to convince the weaklings, that's the nutcracker. he tries explaining bio-etherics the way a physics professor would explain Newton. attributes. characteristics. applications.

i'm looking at the whole fiasco from a different angle. partly interesting. partly amazing. from the start, efforts are made to penetrate the collective consciousness of the crowd. the key is to have a steady grip on their minds. you have your electrodes well-placed, you can make them believe anything.

this phenonmenon is not necessarily bad. but what is it used for? i can't believe i was once a part of this. oblivious and unknowing. i knew what i had to do. i just didn't know what for.

God loves us. whether we like it or not. whether we understand it or not. God loves us all the time. so why do we crave for God's love? why do we hunger for the need to belong? they can always show us how to belong. they use the best tool, personal experience, to convince the masses.

but how far is understanding involved? where do you draw the line between understand and faith? what is faith?

****************************************************************************
Chapter 2

same sage appeared. his breath now reeks of tea and starch. he continues his lecture on bio-etherics. now i see the catch of a belief system. everything is revealed theoretically. the sage speaks of the Love as he would speak of how good his lunch tasted. his audience may grasp his ideas on an intellectual level. but until they experience it, they may never see.

"Salvation!" cries the sage.
what about it?
"Salvation is for everyone."
is it really?
even for those who do not subscribe to your school of thought?
the Hindu priest of 50 believes in none other. who has the balls to tell him otherwise? heads will roll, i tell you.

everybody has a destination. union with God. we must keep focused on our destination. more theories. more strain on the cognitive load of the crowd. they listen agape. they lap up his words like hungry hounds back from a hunt. what are we hunting? or are we the hunted?

i believe Christ is/was an example. his purpose was to be a living example to show us all we can be. forget what he did and said. focus rather on his spirit. you will find the same essence in Siddartha, Muhammed, Guru Nanak. we focused too much on what they did/said. we should rather focus on what made them who they were. they all had the same Source. they were all made of the same stuff.

****************************************************************************
Chapter 3
a white-haired priest from the East took the rock and started describing "new abundant life". he makes a general statement of how little of life that we are really living. school, church, work. is that all that we are living for? how can one decide how much of Life someone else is living? the best way to live your Life may be a total disaster for another.

i still sense strong closed-mindedness. and still lots of theories. i wonder what his reaction would be if someone asked him about reincarnation or the Divine Feminine.

new life happens all the time. everytime a child opens her eyes and realises Who She Really Is, she is born again. everytime a body dies, the soul vibrates at a new higher level and enters life in a new body, new life is born.

why do Christians tend to take certain things so literally? 6 out of 10 cannot give you a straight answer why the bible "disregards" the possibility of reincarnation. what, then, of New Life?

****************************************************************************
Chapter 4
inner healing/healing of our memories. its purpose is to let the Spirit touch you so that inner wounds and hurts may be healed. there are many hurts and wounds that have been accumulated since young. these are the result of incidences that have caused us to hold on to grudges and hurtful memories. receiving inner healing is to let go of such hurts and to allow God to initiate the healing process.

during healing, devotees sometimes "rest in the Spirit". but the Spirit touches everyone differently and each's own experience is unique. could this be a psychological effect? after hours of drilling such ideas into these minds, they are not just open, but also vulnerable. i repeat. at this point, the mind is at a state where it is "open" and vulnerable.

why is it emphasised so much that we are sinners? shun away from God's graces. not able to enter the Kingdom unless you repent.

****************************************************************************
i did not manage to finish the remaining chapters because the experience was delibrately cut short. but i would like to have a personal word with that sage, though.

the next cycle

i have just entered the next new cycle. 22 years has indeed been a journey. colourful, fascinating, disturbing, joyful, unpredictable, incomparable, out-of-this-world. those are a few of the adjectives i'd use to describe what it has been. needless to say, it has been one great ride. a long long road. bumpy. slopes. ruts. and the inevitable tulips amidst green hedges.

looking back. many events mark my timeline. some of them bring back smiles while some i'd rather forget. i have done some good things. i have done things which i am not proud of.

there are individuals whom i have loved, offended, hurt (emotionally and physically), abandoned, shared my life with, missed. i'm also aware that there many who would die for the chance to put a bullet in my head.

in the past, i have spent too much of time thinking that i'm right. looking back. i have wronged so many. i have taken from the innocent. i have been the cause of many a tear. i almost hate the person i was. i have a right to. and i perfectly understand when i am hated.

for these and many more reasons, i can be sure that eternal damnation is my only destination. unavoidable. the hand no longer strokes. it now grips a dagger.

happy birthday, rainchild. may the good lord bless you. or not.

look ma, it's my clone!

jo, shaman and i were having an avid discussion on human cloning, its possibilities and its implications. all three of us were from different points of view; whether it was alright, what would it be used for and, of course, whether God is okay with it or not.

now say you were cloned and your clone grows up to be a perfectly healthy human being. he/she sees life just as you see it. emotions, dreams, hopes, tears. all-human.

do you think your clone would have a Soul?

Soul = God-given spirit.

we decided that the only surefire way to determine if God is okay with cloning is to see if clones have Souls. if they do, then God is okay. if they don't, then somebody's gonna get hurt real bad!

like light to the flies

behold our beloved revels
in tragedy
self-denying abhorence for bloodshed
behold hypocrite

those who run will be burned

devoutly wished for blinded eyes
this tragedy's like light to the flies
this seems to suit you better
bleeding out the eyes
hope's left in chain suspension
holding onto lies, to make the truth

- Trivium "Like Light To The Flies"

my vanilla dream

i was at a stadium. i was standing in a corner, watching it all unfold.
it felt like a parade.
there were mascots of all sorts. huge and colourful. all smiles.
i saw a big white bird with a red beak.
the Four Horsemen took the stage.
they launched into song while James fumbled with his f-hole electro acoustic.
James sang standing beside the drums while Lars thundered away.
i saw Kirk on the drums next.
then he looked at me and shrugged.
i was swimming in a music video.

and the song that was playing? MachineHead's "Silver".

identity theft

by Alan Cohen

Identity theft is a very hot topic these days. Nasty hackers are stealing other folks' credit card numbers and posing as the owners to illicitly buy goods. Quite uncool.

There is an even more dangerous form of identity theft that you are already a victim of, one which runs far deeper than your credit card. You have been taught to believe that you are someone other than you are. I know this is sobering, since you think you are someone. But you are not who you have been told you are. You are someone better.

Grand theft identity begins soon after you arrive on earth, and intensifies with age. A participant in one of my seminars paid an unexpected visit to her son's religious school and found him sitting in a hallway garbage can. "What are you doing here?" she asked him. "I talked out in class and the teacher made me sit here as a punishment," the child answered. With that, the mother removed her son from the trash and the school. The school was guilty of identity theft.

A 21-year-old fellow at another seminar had been diagnosed with cancer at age 17. One day when Charles was scheduled for chemotherapy he learned there was a Grateful Dead concert in his town that night, and he decided that the concert would be more fun to attend. Charles' parents and doctor pleaded with him not to go to the concert, but he went. That night he started to feel better, and within a few months his cancer disappeared. Charles reclaimed his identity as a healthy kid. 

During last year's summer Olympics, U.S. gymnast Paul Hamm was favored to win the men's all-around, a series of five events. During the vault competition, Hamm slipped on his dismount and fell onto the judges' table. He was penalized severely and instantly dropped from 1st to 13th place. The television announcer grimly noted, "Paul Hamm will remember this error for the rest of his life."

With two events left in the competition, U.S. observers hoped he could miraculously work his way back to a bronze medal. Then, in the rings event, Hamm turned in a stellar performance. To everyone's amazement, Hamm emerged with the gold medal by a margin of 13/1000th of a point - the slimmest margin in Olympic history.

When the TV commentator noted that Hamm would remember his error for a lifetime, he attempted to perform on-the-air identity theft. Yet Hamm did not let the announcer steal his identity as a champion. Indeed he will always remember that night - not for his disgrace, but his triumph.

Take care that no one robs your identity as a whole, innocent, powerful, brilliant, creative being. Take special care not to speak of yourself as a loser, or do desperate things. The world can't afford another hacker.

faith

i had a conversation with Wise last night. it was refreshing to talk to him after so long. reminded me of my purpose. there was something about his tone and warmth that is always reassuring. no matter how trippy my rollercoaster ride was, i could always count on him to tell me that it's alright.

we concluded that faith is indeed a tricky thing. i mean, it is difficult to have faith in what is "real". that's just it. what is real? sometimes i have trouble determining whether what i think/feel/see is real. but that is just on the surface. and these deductions go deep. they play a vital part in our interaction with objects in our reality. not knowing what is real could very well be my biggest nightmare ever. screw spiders, clowns, fiery pits, demons or even the end of the world. tell me what is real, and i'm the happy puppy.

i admire those whose faith is as strong as anything. they can never be uprooted. that's not because they are stubborn or closed. it's probably because their faith comes with an immense dose of trust. i've had the privilege of meeting such people. they have no idea where their next meal is coming from. but they trust that the agenda of the day has already been taken care of.

then Wise asked me, "are we even supposed to worry about these things?"

look within.
ask yourself what it is you're looking for.
and if you're patient enough, the answer will find you.

can i say hello again?

the first light of the morning greets thee with splendour
the light, soft wetness of the mist touches your cheeks
and as you breathe in the cool air of the morn
i close my eyes and silently weep inside

your smile in itself sends waves through my soul
as i watch the flames flicker in your eyes
i'm reminded of the sun and all its glory
i clench my fist and wish i'm taken away

the energy you emit used to electrify my circuits
now it just fills me up and makes me long for more
sometimes i wish i had never met you
can i say hello again?

the gal on the floor

gal on the floor
what're you looking for?
a metaphor?
a latino whore?
or should that be an albino bore?
well, whatever it is you're looking for
you'll still be the gal on the floor

erm...this my experimental attempt at Spontaneous Poetry Under the Influence (SPUI), pronounced "spooyeee". and my first guinea pig was Stephenie Dawn Gregory. she's not imaginary, i swear. anyway, she gave me the thumbs up. so, Steph...this is to you. :)
danke shon!

more chain letters, anyone?

if i had a dollar for every chain letter that was
ever created, started and survived till now, i
could buy a Mercedes SLK.

if i had a dollar for every chain letter dripping
with obvious stupidity, i could buy a speedboat.

if i had a dollar for every person who passes on
chain letters, i could buy Bill Gates.

wish you were here

so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
a smile from a veil?
do you think you can tell?

and did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
hot ashes for trees?
hot air for a cool breeze?
cold comfort for change?
and did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

how i wish, how i wish you were here.
we're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
running over the same old ground.
what have you found?
the same old fears.

wish you were here.

- Pink Floyd "Wish You Were Here"

...i couldn't have done it better...

compliment

now i've taken the side
of a beautiful calm
can you see this disguise
fading to a resolve

and there it goes my innocence
while gathering up a compliment
and here I lie with words to swear
there's something more than
the world out there

hesitation compounds
i've nothing left to sustain
my worries here have allowed
a momentary refrain

and there it goes my innocence
i'm dying here for a compliment
and here I lie with words to swear
there's something more
than the world out there

- Collective Soul, "Compliment"

stonefaced and oblivious

at this very moment, the whole universe can come crashing down and i wouldn't give a fuck. i have been slacking to such an unbelievable extent, that i'm utterly amazed at myself. overdue deadlines. ditching classes. lack of sleep psychosis. idiosyncrasies. and the inevitable urge to procrastinate. i know the reasons. and i just choose not to do a damned thing about it.

who says?

my dear friend barnaby jones says:

Church is not a saints' club but a sinners' hospital.

who says?

my dear friend burnout says:

The Book is with God.
The Pen is with Us.

a horrendously charming weekend

some doors are meant to be kept closed. when a chapter is concluded and closed, it is usually wise to not go back and open it. then you painfully discover how unhealed you are. and everything comes crashing down like an enormous avalanche, taking everything with it...

the devotion of a saint...

Lord make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. And where there is sadness, joy. Grant that i may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand, to be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive- it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, it is in dying that we are born to eternal life
-- Francis of Assisi

...and i thought i knew God and how the world works...

extract from the mind & spirit vaults of Erowid

God Is Not on My Side. Or Yours.

The air-cond in the cockpit seemed to be working fine. Yet, beads of sweat trickled down his brow. His eyes are fixated on the view in front of him. His hands gripping the controls with anxious determination. He leans forward against the controls and just before the nose crashes through the windows he shouts, " Allahu Akbar!"

He adjusts shirt and tie before stepping out to meet the camera flashes and the rain of questions. Asked about his thoughts on recent events, he starts describing how devastated he was when he watched the first plane crash through the tower. "This is a war and we are under attack." He looks directly at the camera and adds, "If you're not with us, you're with the terrorists." Just before he waves to the blinding flashes he says, "God bless America."

One eye squeezed shut. The other looks sharply into the scope. He places the crosshair right between the Iraqi's eyes. He grips the rifle tighter as his finger touches the trigger. He whispers, "Let not my Strength fail me. Let not my enemies mock me." He squeezes the trigger.

Hitler simply asked, "Who says that I am not under special protection of God?"

How does God choose whose side to be on? Or does he even bother?
Whose prayers does he choose to listen to? Why?
God herself has said, "Your will is My Will."
Then we complain that God was never on our side.

between time, parallel universes and a joint

what is time?
we have been taught since young that time is a horizontal element. picture a horizontal timeline, with many incidents that mark our yesterdays, today and tomorrows, marked onto that timeline. what happened in our yester years are called history, and what happends ahead are called future.

now, imagine time to be a vertical element. that same timeline is now turned to be a vertical line. every incident are lined up together on a single straight line. that single line is an eternal moment. the everlasting moment of NOW. there are no yesterdays, today and tomorrows. everything is taking place in a single moment. right now.

picture an application of this concept of time. dreams are an excellent example. many say that there several explainations of what dreams are, and what they represent. based on these, a dream could be the projection of the conscious/subconscious mind. you have an exam that you are nervous about, and you have a nightmare about doing badly. another says that your soul travels through time when you sleep. thus, what it experiences during the travels are projected to you as a dream. that dream could be about a certain memory, about a death of loved on who has not passed yet, about past or future events. when you sleep, your soul hops from one "incident" to another on the straight vertical timeline.

even though these explainations do not dispute one another, they do not compliment each other either. here's another one. when the body is asleep, the soul travels to a parallel universe/reality. what it sees there is projected as a dream. you exist in that parallel universe but probably in a different environment. different time, different circumstances.

based on this, dreams could be what happens to us in a different universe. that universe could be in a different condition. it could be running ahead of our time. thus, we see the possible future. it could be running behind our time. thus, we see the possible past.it could be even running under totally different circumstances. thus, when you dream that you are going to do badly in the exam, you might not really do so. it could have happened to you in a different universe.

it's good to be with mary's blessed company...

the unpredictable events of my yesterdays

God is a profound playwright. she has written the way my experience unfolds such magnificence that is just utterly remarkable.

had a great weekend with him and now the 3rd day into the week i'm missing his company. not just mary, but his wisecracks and his energy. at noon yesterday, he calls me. says he's coming over. 2 hrs in, i was leveled. i lit a cigarette. time was moving so slow. he says, "dude, that's a cigarette not a clit..."

for the first time, my room was filled with my closest friends in campus. satan, burnout, tc, shaman, jo, fabs...they were all here. burnout was impressed with my mobile pc. satan was singing along to dream theater. fabs was out cold, as usual. it's like there's an auto-shutdown mechanism built into him that activates the moment he lies down on my bed. it was a good time. the calm before the storm.

in the morning, while i was in the shower i thought of her and how nice it would be to see her again. nah, she must be too busy with her final project and all. later in the evening as i was walking back to my block, she passes by in her ride and asks me if i would join her to attend the talentnite show. had a great time. the good talents were good and the bad were outrageously horrendous. they're not bad bad, but they probably have talents in other areas. whatever. she looked stunning and delicious, as always.

later, i retired to my room. decided to have bread and tuna for dinner. watched elektra. reflected a while later. my own auto-shutdown kicked in as i lay down.

now, awake and in need of a shave, i stare at the screen. i have a test at 2 later. last-minute preparations? you bet.

God is a profound playwright...

the veils...

i found this in my inbox today...and it comes in right after watching the animatrix...

Slavery and the Eight Veils
by Don Harkins

Over the last several years I have evolved and discarded several
theories in an attempt to explain why it is that most people cannot see
truth -- even when it smacks them in the face. Those of us who can see
"the conspiracy" have participated in countless conversations amongst
ourselves that address the frustration of most peoples' inability to
comprehend the extremely well-documented arguments which we use to
describe the process of our collective enslavement and exploitation. The
most common explanation to be arrived at is that most people just "don't
want to see" what is really going on.

Extremely evil men and women who make up the world's power-elite have
cleverly cultivated a virtual pasture so grass green that few people
seldom, if ever, bother to look up from where they are grazing long
enough to notice the brightly colored tags stapled to their ears.

The same people who cannot see their enslavement for the pasture grass
have a tendency to view as insane "conspiracy theorists" those of us who
can see the past the farm and into the parlor of his feudal lordship's
castle.

Finally, I understand why. It's not that those who don't see that their
freedom is vanishing under the leadership of the power-elite "don't want
to see it" -- they simply can't see what is happening to them because of
the unpierced veils that block their view.

All human endeavors are a filtration process. Sports is one of the best
examples. We play specific sports until we get kicked off the
playground. The pro athletes we pay big bucks to watch just never got
kicked off the playground. Where millions of kids play little league
each spring, they are filtered out until there are about 50 guys who go
to the World Series in October.

Behind the first veil: There are over six billion people on the planet.
Most of them live and die without having seriously contemplated anything
other than what it takes to keep their lives together. Ninety percent of
all humanity will live and die without having pierced the first veil.

The first veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the first veil and find
the world of politics. We will vote, be active and have an opinion. Our
opinions are shaped by the physical world around us; we have a tendency
to accept that government officials, network media personalities and
other "experts" are voices of authority. Ninety percent of the people in
this group will live and die without having pierced the second veil.

The second veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the second veil to
explore the world of history, the relationship between man and
government and the meaning of self-government through constitutional and
common law. Ninety percent of the people in this group will live and die
without having pierced the third veil.

The third veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the third veil to find
that the resources of the world, including people, are controlled by
extremely wealthy and powerful families whose incorporated old world
assets have, with modern extortion strategies, become the foundation
upon which the world's economy is currently indebted. Ninety percent of
the people in this group will live and die without having pierced the
fourth veil.

The fourth veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the fourth veil to
discover the Illuminati, Freemasonry and the other secret societies.
These societies use symbols and perform ceremonies that perpetuate the
generational transfers of arcane knowledge that is used to keep the
ordinary people in political, economic and spiritual bondage to the
oldest bloodlines on earth. Ninety percent of the people in this group
will live and die without having pierced the fifth veil.

The fifth veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the fifth veil to learn
that the secret societies are so far advanced technologically that time
travel and interstellar communications have no boundaries and
controlling the actions of people is what their members do as
offhandedly as we tell our children when they must go to bed. Ninety
percent of the people in this group will live and die without having
pierced the sixth veil.

The sixth veil: Ten percent of us will pierce the sixth veil where the
dragons and lizards and aliens we thought were the fictional monsters of
childhood literature are real and are the controlling forces behind the
secret societies. Ninety percent of the people in this group will live
and die without piercing the seventh veil.

The seventh veil: I do not know what is behind the seventh veil. I think
it is where your soul is evolved to the point you can exist on earth and
be the man Ghandi was, or the woman Peace Pilgrim was - people so
enlightened they brighten the world around them no matter what.

The eighth veil? Piercing the eighth veil probably reveals God and the
pure energy that is the life force in all living things - which are, I
think, one and the same.

If my math is accurate there are only about 60,000 people on the planet
who have pierced the sixth veil. The irony here is too incredible: Those
who are stuck behind veils one through five have little choice but to
view the people who have pierced the veils beyond them as insane. With
each veil pierced, exponentially shrinking numbers of increasingly
enlightened people are deemed insane by exponentially increasing masses
of decreasingly enlightened people.

Adding to the irony, the harder a "sixth or better veiler" tries to
explain what he is able to see to those who can't, the more insane he
appears to them.

Our enemy, the state

Behind the first two veils we find the great majority of people on the
planet. They are tools of the state: Second veilers are the gullible
voters whose ignorance justify the actions of politicians who send first
veilers off to die in foreign lands as cannon fodder -- their combined
stations in life are to believe that the self-serving machinations of
the power-elite are matters of national security worth dying for.

Third, fourth, fifth and sixth veilers are of increasing liability to
the state because of their decreasing ability to be used as tools to
consolidate power and wealth of the many into the hands of the
power-elite. It is common for these people to sacrifice more of their
relationships with friends and family, their professional careers and
personal freedom with each veil they pierce.

Albert Jay Nock (1870-1945), author of "Our Enemy, the State" (1935),
explained what happens to those who find the seventh and eighth veils:
"What was the best that the state could find to do with an actual
Socrates and an actual Jesus when it had them? Merely to poison one and
crucify the other, for no reason but that they were too intolerably
embarrassing to be allowed to live any longer."

Conclusions

And so now we know that it's not that our countrymen are so committed to
their lives that, "they don't want to see," the mechanisms of their
enslavement and exploitation. They simply "can't see" it as surely as I
cannot see what's on the other side of a closed curtain.

The purpose of this essay is threefold:

1. To help the handful of people in the latter veils to understand why
the masses have little choice but to interpret their clarity as insanity;

2. To help people behind the first two veils understand that living,
breathing and thinking are just the beginning and;

3. Show people that the greatest adventure of our life is behind the
next veil because that is just one less veil between ourselves and God.