Walking together down dusty roads
Hands swaying in the gentle summer breeze
The world bowing to our romance
And heaven singing softly
But fickle is the moment, flashing
The weather soon changes
And we discover what was waiting in the clouds
29 May 2022
19 June 2021
And in the silence of yon sky I read
My fated message flashing. Unto this
Came I, and unto this all nights and days
Have led me; for I will not have that crown
Which may be mine: I lay aside those realms
Which wait the gleaming of my naked sword
My chariot shall not roll with bloody wheels
From victory to victory, till Earth
Wears the red record of my name. I choose
To tread its paths with patient, stainless feet,
Making its dust my bed, its loneliest wastes
My dwelling, and its meanest things my mates:
Clad in no prouder garb than outcasts wear,
Fed with no meats save what the charitable
Give of their will, sheltered by no more pomp
Than the dim cave lends or the jungle-bush,
This will I do because the woeful cry
Of life and all flesh living cometh up
Into my ears, and all my soul is full
Of pity for the sickness of this world,
Which I will heal, if healing may be found
By uttermost renouncing and strong strife.
-Buddha
05 July 2020
RIP Belton "Buzz" Milonich, b. ~1954 - d. 2019
I was not able to find an obituary online, but Buzz was and will always be my dear friend. It seems prudent to take some time to remember him.
I have never met anyone quite like him - he taught me a lot about life. Buzz knew a hell of a lot about life and was a damn good man. We both lived in the same apartment building in Loveland, Colorado. I talked to him outside his residence and told him I would come visit. I didn't (justified with "life gets busy" bullshit we all pull). When he saw me again he gave me a piece of his mind. I got mad, he got mad, and we ended up crying together over this shitty thing we call life. He was looking forward to meeting. I realized my shallowness.
Buzz and I got pretty close and we talked about all kinds of shit. He told me about his life and the hell he had been through (I don't know if I've ever met anyone who had been through as much as he had - which I will keep confidential for his sake - but he'd been through a hell of a lot). He gave me his pocket watch which I still have to this day, and would occasionally give me a piece of his mind. When I met this cute little girl, I blinded myself to her flaws and praised her unconditionally. Buzz told me what he thought of her. I viciously defended her. He turned out to be right. My heart was never the same after that relationship ended. Buzz told me about his time in prison with famed poet Jimmy Santiago Baca, his publication in "A Joint Conference", and his participation in the prison with a group learning Transactional Analysis techniques with Ram Dass, whom he developed a friendship with.
One night not long before I left Colorado, Buzz told me some things about life and my situation that I will not be able to forget. I was furious, but he was right in what he told me. It hurt to hear the truth. None of us want to hear the truth. Most of us spend our entire life running from it, from ourselves - trying to outpace fear or make some sense of it. Most bury their heads in the sand, carving out a little hole to quell the pain and fear of the unspeakable horror that pervades and pulses behind human pursuit. I don't know if I will ever be able to accept what he told me that night, but I will certainly use it to try and become a better, more mindful human being - as painful as it may be - and be a compassionate one, at that.
Buzz was a man of honor and of love - I witnessed this kindness and honesty and can attest to it. It was quite refreshing. Someday when the end is near, I will still remember the time we spent together as some of the best in my life.
Rest in Peace my wise and kind friend
-Pat
I have never met anyone quite like him - he taught me a lot about life. Buzz knew a hell of a lot about life and was a damn good man. We both lived in the same apartment building in Loveland, Colorado. I talked to him outside his residence and told him I would come visit. I didn't (justified with "life gets busy" bullshit we all pull). When he saw me again he gave me a piece of his mind. I got mad, he got mad, and we ended up crying together over this shitty thing we call life. He was looking forward to meeting. I realized my shallowness.
Buzz and I got pretty close and we talked about all kinds of shit. He told me about his life and the hell he had been through (I don't know if I've ever met anyone who had been through as much as he had - which I will keep confidential for his sake - but he'd been through a hell of a lot). He gave me his pocket watch which I still have to this day, and would occasionally give me a piece of his mind. When I met this cute little girl, I blinded myself to her flaws and praised her unconditionally. Buzz told me what he thought of her. I viciously defended her. He turned out to be right. My heart was never the same after that relationship ended. Buzz told me about his time in prison with famed poet Jimmy Santiago Baca, his publication in "A Joint Conference", and his participation in the prison with a group learning Transactional Analysis techniques with Ram Dass, whom he developed a friendship with.
One night not long before I left Colorado, Buzz told me some things about life and my situation that I will not be able to forget. I was furious, but he was right in what he told me. It hurt to hear the truth. None of us want to hear the truth. Most of us spend our entire life running from it, from ourselves - trying to outpace fear or make some sense of it. Most bury their heads in the sand, carving out a little hole to quell the pain and fear of the unspeakable horror that pervades and pulses behind human pursuit. I don't know if I will ever be able to accept what he told me that night, but I will certainly use it to try and become a better, more mindful human being - as painful as it may be - and be a compassionate one, at that.
Buzz was a man of honor and of love - I witnessed this kindness and honesty and can attest to it. It was quite refreshing. Someday when the end is near, I will still remember the time we spent together as some of the best in my life.
Rest in Peace my wise and kind friend
-Pat
19 April 2020
On Mysticism
There are experiences that most of us are hesitant to speak about, because they do not conform to everyday reality and defy rational explanation. These are not particular external occurrences, but rather events of our inner lives, which are generally dismissed as figments of the imagination and barred from our memory. Suddenly, the familiar view of our surroundings is transformed in a strange, delightful, or alarming way: it appears to us in a new light, takes on a special meaning. Such an experience can be as light and fleeting as a breath of air, or it can imprint itself deeply upon our minds.
One enchantment of that kind, which I experienced in childhood, has remained remarkably vivid in my memory ever since. It happened on a May morning — I have forgotten the year — but I can still point to the exact spot where it occurred, on a forest path on Martinsberg above Baden, Switzerland. As I strolled through the freshly greened woods filled with bird song and lit up by the morning sun, all at once everything appeared in an uncommonly clear light. Was this something I had simply failed to notice before? Was I suddenly discovering the spring forest as it actually looked? It shone with the most beautiful radiance, speaking to the heart, as though it wanted to encompass me in its majesty. I was filled with an indescribable sensation of joy, oneness, and blissful security.
I have no idea how long I stood there spellbound. But I recall the anxious concern I felt as the radiance slowly dissolved and I hiked on: how could a vision that was so real and convincing, so directly and deeply felt — how could it end so soon? And how could I tell anyone about it, as my overflowing joy compelled me to do, since I knew there were no words to describe what I had seen? It seemed strange that I, as a child, had seen something so marvelous, something that adults obviously did not perceive — for I had never heard them mention it.
While still a child, I experienced several more of these deeply euphoric moments on my rambles through forest and meadow. It was these experiences that shaped the main outlines of my world view and convinced me of the existence of a miraculous, powerful, unfathomable reality that was hidden from everyday sight. -Albert Hoffman
One enchantment of that kind, which I experienced in childhood, has remained remarkably vivid in my memory ever since. It happened on a May morning — I have forgotten the year — but I can still point to the exact spot where it occurred, on a forest path on Martinsberg above Baden, Switzerland. As I strolled through the freshly greened woods filled with bird song and lit up by the morning sun, all at once everything appeared in an uncommonly clear light. Was this something I had simply failed to notice before? Was I suddenly discovering the spring forest as it actually looked? It shone with the most beautiful radiance, speaking to the heart, as though it wanted to encompass me in its majesty. I was filled with an indescribable sensation of joy, oneness, and blissful security.
I have no idea how long I stood there spellbound. But I recall the anxious concern I felt as the radiance slowly dissolved and I hiked on: how could a vision that was so real and convincing, so directly and deeply felt — how could it end so soon? And how could I tell anyone about it, as my overflowing joy compelled me to do, since I knew there were no words to describe what I had seen? It seemed strange that I, as a child, had seen something so marvelous, something that adults obviously did not perceive — for I had never heard them mention it.
While still a child, I experienced several more of these deeply euphoric moments on my rambles through forest and meadow. It was these experiences that shaped the main outlines of my world view and convinced me of the existence of a miraculous, powerful, unfathomable reality that was hidden from everyday sight. -Albert Hoffman
07 June 2019
The more I grow and learn, I am convinced that humanity knows virtually nothing at all.. or, knowledge is much more fluid than previously thought. Perhaps there is a truly objective truth which permeates all of existence - a set of natural laws governing the best ways in which to live. My experience has been that there is such a path, but the means of reaching it are often obscured to me. Regardless, light from this Way illuminates my path, like a sunlit canopy which breaks in many places allowing light to reach the ground (the human life). My best estimation on the correct way in which to live is to dwell in kindness and in light; to overcome fear and to know peace.
Many changes I have recently made in my lifestyle have been tremendously beneficial; exercise, diet, and the manner of my thinking. A human being subjectively experiences reality through a filter, and this filter is perhaps more fluid than a fixed and more-permanent physical object. I am convinced that many do not know the power of how they can change; hard as it may be, I strive to harness this malleability to better myself, my relationships, and the world around me.
Knowledge comes with growth, and the seasonal blooming is the life-water of consciousness.
Many changes I have recently made in my lifestyle have been tremendously beneficial; exercise, diet, and the manner of my thinking. A human being subjectively experiences reality through a filter, and this filter is perhaps more fluid than a fixed and more-permanent physical object. I am convinced that many do not know the power of how they can change; hard as it may be, I strive to harness this malleability to better myself, my relationships, and the world around me.
Knowledge comes with growth, and the seasonal blooming is the life-water of consciousness.
11 April 2019
As I get older I reflect more and more nostalgically on my youth. I've been so fortunate to be blessed with the family that I have, the people I have known, and the things God has given me. Moreover, I would still say that I have gotten everything I have ever wanted in life. This is truly remarkable. Some things I am still working towards - I keep them like carrots in front of me, to keep me motivated. Who doesn't want to be an exotic animal breeder or live in a shipping container?
With aging comes a great sadness for me in realizing that besides a couple people, no one really cares; we are in this 'alone'. At times it seems I am seeing everyone that I know get married, have children, and settle down. I get sad because I know it is the natural order of things to procreate, but I desperately desire to avoid doing this. I recognize my irrational dislike for people who have children is based on the fact that I so desperately want to have what they have (purpose, acceptance, normalcy, ignorance) but it is not what I want. I can truly see no purpose in furthering 13.75 billion years of evolution. What is the purpose in procreation? Are there some people who genuinely want to bring someone into the world to experience it?
Most are the product of fucking.
I see beauty in most every part of the world but have trouble seeing it in society. Due to an enlightenment experience, the overwhelming meaninglessness of such endeavors is hard to escape; since everything is one and perfect, what need is there to have more than that? On the other hand, I am still masturbating and depressed... The psychology of this will surely take me years to figure out.
I hope that if you are reading this, you never suffer from the depression that I experience. I see a world in pain, a world which is hurting and suffering, and a world which is so different from what I came to know in November 2012. I need to find a new pair of glasses.
With aging comes a great sadness for me in realizing that besides a couple people, no one really cares; we are in this 'alone'. At times it seems I am seeing everyone that I know get married, have children, and settle down. I get sad because I know it is the natural order of things to procreate, but I desperately desire to avoid doing this. I recognize my irrational dislike for people who have children is based on the fact that I so desperately want to have what they have (purpose, acceptance, normalcy, ignorance) but it is not what I want. I can truly see no purpose in furthering 13.75 billion years of evolution. What is the purpose in procreation? Are there some people who genuinely want to bring someone into the world to experience it?
Most are the product of fucking.
I see beauty in most every part of the world but have trouble seeing it in society. Due to an enlightenment experience, the overwhelming meaninglessness of such endeavors is hard to escape; since everything is one and perfect, what need is there to have more than that? On the other hand, I am still masturbating and depressed... The psychology of this will surely take me years to figure out.
I hope that if you are reading this, you never suffer from the depression that I experience. I see a world in pain, a world which is hurting and suffering, and a world which is so different from what I came to know in November 2012. I need to find a new pair of glasses.
20 March 2018
The quiet resolve to abide in all conditions
To direct our ship in a set and steady course
From tree to plank to ashes
And further still
A knowing preceding the rise
and proceeding the fall
That which endures through the all
That great scaffolding which allows us to reach great heights,
and a ladder to the depths of despair.
Cinders floating on the currents of their own creation
settling to the ground
having burned through
having destroyed themselves for the purpose of creating
Too numerous to count the ways
Too annihilated to define
The essence remains
To direct our ship in a set and steady course
From tree to plank to ashes
And further still
A knowing preceding the rise
and proceeding the fall
That which endures through the all
That great scaffolding which allows us to reach great heights,
and a ladder to the depths of despair.
Cinders floating on the currents of their own creation
settling to the ground
having burned through
having destroyed themselves for the purpose of creating
Too numerous to count the ways
Too annihilated to define
The essence remains
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