I was right
About all the little things that didn’t matter.
I was wrong about all the big things that did.
But youth is for foolishness and mistakes.
The concept being that you will eventually learn from mistakes and your heart will grow a harder layer of protection. This can be a lifelong education of regrowth if you don’t pay enough attention to details.
One theory is that we keep falling in love with the same person, over and over, like some weird drunkard’s dance in a Groundhog Day scenario. Even if that person was all wrong for us in the first place. So is it familiarity that attracts? The devil we know is better than the saviour we don’t? Perhaps we just tire from the waiting and settle for what we know. Attracted to those who remind us of ourselves? Or marry for money and security even though that brings in its train a lifetime of boredom and unrequited dreams and hopes? But surely that is not a living, but a dying? For money proves to be a cold companion and takes more than it gives. Doomed to buy all the toys and trinkets to impress others whilst your subsequent depression stemming from your inner knowledge that nothing purchased brings any lasting pleasure. You are a compromised person and although you can lie to your conscience your sub-conscious knows the truth, and forces you to spend most of your days sleeping. Hiding from life. Avoiding waking to the horror of who you really are. A prisoner trapped in a cell of your own making. Spending all your approved allowance on the best drugs to dull yourself to the harsh reality that you are already dead.
I took myself to Disneyland today.
I wanted to return to a simpler, safer time when I believed in dreams and heroes.
All around me was the sound of the laughter of children and the look of wonderment in their eyes.
They are years from cynicism and reducing the world to something they can understand.
I had a photo taken with Mickey but my idol Donald Duck was nowhere to be seen.
Disneyland was conceived and built by a sad and lonely man who acted childish at times. Because the truth is he was still a child and needed to build a romanticised version of his childhood town – a place where it was always clean, and wholesome and safe. And contained no tyrannical father. Ironic huh? Was he insane? In most people’s terms, yes. But at least his dreams were safer than those of young Adolf Hitler, a failed painter from Austria. Y’know, if young Adolf had’ve sold three or four landscape paintings the whole Second World War may have been avoided. I always say, “Be careful about pissing off creative people. That creative light force once turned back on itself can become very dark and destructive.”
On the other hand, all of the world’s great accepted visionaries were a little looney tunes. Some, very much so. Fortunately their insanities were focused towards something more publicly palatable than the Third Reich or the NWO. They risked everything thinking outside the box. Their own lives became secondary to their dream. And many died in their footsteps upon that lonely highway. They sacrificed romantic relationships, friendships, their dignity (as many were publicly ridiculed), their personal happiness, and a comfortable safe life. Why? And what for? A higher calling? Immortality? If there is no God and no afterlife why do people do this to themselves? If we’re just here marking time until the long darkness, why not just put the tools down and embrace the fairly interesting train ride to nowhere?
It’s the same with love. If it’s not a God-given gift to share then what exactly is it? Why care so much about it? Or anyone else?
I pondered all these things as I sat in my chair looking out the window that was shaped like Mickey’s head on the Disneyland Express on my train ride back to somewhere.
The living are always under attack from the dead. As night follows day so do those of darkness target those of light and stalk them with words of hero worship when, the truth is, the mere existence of those with a spark irritates them and they consciously or, in some cases, subconsciously, work toward the extinguishment of that flame. Wilhelm Reich writes about this condition in detail in his book The Murder of Christ.
The people of darkness use many tools to bring down the envied. Negative rumours, stories that are unfounded in fact, and a whole range of politically acceptable words to discredit their target i.e., Narcissist (this applies to anyone who is successful in showbiz who uses social media to promote their latest ventures) because the fact that someone may actually be getting off their fat ass and doing something reminds the person of darkness how meaningless and unfocused their own life is; Nazi (it is acceptable in today’s politically correct world to call anyone with an opposing opinion this and get away with it. This is disgustingly outrageous and unfair to their target whose only crime may be to have an original thought, as well as, obviously, making light of what the real Nazis did). But let me not bring logic into this lest I be called names. Anti-Semitic is a good one too in some cases. I have even witnessed Jewish people being called anti-Semitic because they dared to have an opinion that didn’t sit comfortably with the party line. Such is the out of control world we live in where the militant wheel gets oiled first and the logical debate is not only not considered it is condemned. Here we have a perfect storm for the people of darkness to not only hide within, but thrive.
Bob Dylan has predicted for some time now that we have entered the end game. Anyone who has studied theology and the predictions of the old prophets would have to concur. In my opinion we are currently engaged in the final war between good and evil, darkness and light, and the shadow people are only going to get more and more hysterical as things don’t go their way. They are currently very confused as to why things aren’t going the way of the Polls. Could it be divine intervention?
It is difficult to untangle yourself from a person of darkness because they are cling ons – spiritual vampires sucking your energy. And the more you give them the more resentful they will become towards you. For even your kindness is an irritation. A reminder of what they are not. They will insult you by praising strangers and even abusing and opportunistic ex-partners above your efforts to help, give and support. This is to make you crazy and so confused you will cease to be able to function and end up zombie like staring out a window into the light that was once your source. Do not under any circumstances feed them. Let well enough alone. Danger and madness this way comes.
It’s nearly nightfall Watch your step I once fell here And got a bad rep Black and blue Chet Baker’s voice You should still be with me But it was your choice And there’s the Chelsea Hotel And the smell of stale beer Expensive winos Once drank here I thought I saw Keith Richards But it might have been me Gore Vidal’s name Is carved in that tree They say he cried The night Dylan Thomas died…
Tonight a nightcap Feels like death Your sacred name Said under my breath Lead me on Return my youth I can’t seem to cope with Your version of truth And there’s the Chelsea Hotel And the stench of my fear Poor Dylan Thomas Once died here I thought I saw his spirit But it might have been me Clark Gable’s name Tattooed on your knee I think you lied The night Dylan Thomas died…
It’s four minutes to three And I haven’t thought of you Since the last time I cried I’m playing Monopoly With a man from Paraguay Who was here the night Dylan Thomas died
And there’s the Chelsea Hotel The address of King Lear Edger Allan Poe Once bled here I thought I saw my father But it might have been me Time’s running out Said God to a flea All dreams denied The night Dylan Thomas died…
And there’s the Chelsea Hotel And the stench of my fear Poor Dylan Thomas Once died here…
If my father had lived He’d be ninety-three today And still scratching his head At life's mysterious play If I live to be a thousand And I doubt that today I would still be blessing The day he came my way
If my mother had lived She’s be ninety in July Still singing this song Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Lie If I live to be a hundred And I hear what you say I would still be blessing The day she came my way
And we’re all just grains of sand On God's eternal beach Where the wind can blow our dreams Just beyond our reach But I've been honoured to know ya Both family and foe Here’s a song and a pint To us all afore we go
’Twas your grandmother’s dream To see you turn twenty one But I’ll take her place And shed her tear, my son For I’ll live to be eighty If I keep the pipes at bay And I will still be blessing The day you came my way
And we’re all just grains of sand On God’s eternal beach Where the wind can blow our dreams Way beyond our reach But it's been me honour to know ya Both family and foe Here’s a song and a pint To us all before we go
Never learned a thing at school Could never follow a rule They kept losing me One and one made three So here I sit An ignorant git With a heart as big as the sun A handshake for everyone Seduced by the moon Who dumps me too soon As the morning catches my sight I bid farewell to my love, the night
If your daddy don’t live
To see ya marry your love You can bet all your dough I’ll be watchin’ from above When you bow to kiss your sweetheart If rain begins to fall My pride overflowing It’ll be my tears that’s all