Allegorically Speaking

KHALID O. GOLDING

01/12/2012 - 06:00

Dear Reader, This is a diary of anxiety and disparity in the face of indifference.

It documents the melancholic highs, optimistic lows and all manner of spontaneous philosophical epiphanies, as allegorical trains of thought. Rather than trying to decipher exactly what was going at the time of writing, in an attempt to solve the mystery of me, digest, reect and connect with these allegorical memoirs because theres a chance that you may share similar sentiments and experiences.

Yours Faithfully, Khalid O. Golding

CHAPTER 1

The Wishing Well

18/06/2010 How many pennies must I throw into the well before my wish is granted? Will I end up throwing a lifetime worth of pennies into a bottomless pit just to be granted one wish? Is this one wish really worth plundering all of my assets and provisions? Is having this one wish really worth more to me than life itself ? What will happen when I am granted this wish? Will I still feel the same? Theres a wise saying, which goes:

Be careful what you wish for.

Am I carelessly plummeting the contents of my penny jar by wishing the same wish, at the same place every moment of the day? Why not just throw the whole penny jar into the well and see what happens?
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Why feed the well pennies, why not stop wishing to see what happens? Life consists of creating opportunities. Whats the point of wishing when I could write my own destiny? Why must I spend my hours at the well? Why not construct what I spend my time wishing for? If I construct and build, everything I wish for shall come to pass. Why do I remain by the well with a jar of pennies? Am I scared to move, have I become complacent? When I wake up on the other side of my trip to the astral eld, I shall not walk in the direction of the well but in the opposite direction to explore the universe. I may or may not nd what I spent so much pennies wishing for, but by investing time into searching and building a path to my wish, I may discover something beyond all comprehension and expectation. So what happens now? I can either choose to gaze up at the night sky wishing upon all the stars in the cosmos, use the twinkling star clusters as a navigation tool, or build a spaceship and go on an expedition of self discovery where I risk losing myself in some of the deepest and darkest uncharted regions of outer space. What would you do? Stay wishing, walk in the footsteps of those before you or risk everything?

CHAPTER 2

Three3 Words
20/07/2010 There are so many occasions where I wind myself up, because the most concise way to describe how I feel is contained within three words; I love you, I miss you, Im thinking of you. How can three words articulate exactly how I feel? Every time I make an elaborate attempt to articulate my feelings towards you Im faced with a near impossible task. How can three short words give someone the indication that they mean so much? Im rather perplexed. How can writing, reading and saying three words not only make you, but another feel so important, much less alone, warm, light, energetic and secure? When I scribe or speak either one of those three sentences, I am settling for three words, which perfectly sum up the feelings that I cannot begin to explain. If I were to try to elaborate, the magnitude of my feelings will get lost within unnecessary amounts of wording, rendering my attempts to tell you just how I feel a failure.
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Love.

CHAPTER 3

Find Your Heart

22/08/2010 At which point do we nd where we want to settle? When does this realisation occur? I ran around in circles trying to nd myself for so long, until I stumbledacross the notion that there was someone inside that needed to be on the outside. As weird as it sounds, many have this problem, we all seem to walk down dead ends instead of taking the route where our hearts navigate. We think our brains are always right because we are taught that the brain does all the thinking. The brain ensures that the body works as a machine; it controls the shell, and does all the stuff that we require without second thought. The brain controls everything such as breathing, the movement of muscles, sneezing, even the squint of eyes in bright light. The brain is the central computer to all bodily function, compare this to the heart and you have something totally different, the heart is where intuition lies. The heart is the home of emotion, feelings, and passion. The heart is also the place which denes all thought and sensory processes, the heart does everything out of body and spontaneous rather than mechanical. I guess the moral of this is to always think with your heart because it allows your brain to function, without a functional heart youll cease to exist. Without the means of a functional heart youll not be able to cleanse the
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blood owing around your body. Without the heart how would you feel, how could you possibly experience the life of this world and the hereafter? How would you be able to experience pain, pleasure, sadness, happiness, how are you able to experience the ups and downs of your existence, the very ups and downs which break you down to microscopic grains of sand before building yourself into an imperishable work of art? Think with your heart I say, for your heart is what keeps you alive and functioning, it is the centre of all contact with the outside and beyond, your heart is the decoder of messages from fellow human beings and many more from the divine. Let your heart lead the way to all your dreams because your heart is where your imagination and your innite levels of consciousness dwell. It is the centre of your heart which knows all, the centre of your heart which records the names, faces and distinctive traits of all those who have, and will cross your path in this life and many others. It is your heart which holds all the answers, as your heart is always with the divine, whether you are ignorant to the fact or not, your heart knows all as the heart is outside of the hourglass. Your heart is neither physical organ nor something that oats; it has no shell, colour nor distinctive feature. Your heart is simply as you are, it exists as thoughts and ideas which cannot be articulated nor materialised into something we see or touch. The heart is inspiration so when it calls, answer and follow the path it has laid out in front of you.

CHAPTER 4

Dear Dad

17/09/2010 I wont lie, theres certain times I dont think about you for a few days but then out of nowhere Ill remember something you said or did to make me laugh. My earliest memories of you consist of being taught words like hypocrite and imposter. Most children were being taught words like dog and ball, but you were molding me to be nimble
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from a young age.Im blessed to have a father like you because you opened my mind from a young age to be a worldly thinker. You also empowered me from a very young age by telling me: Be a leader, never the follower. You taught me about my ancestors and where we came from before the slave ships. You taught me about ancient Egypt, and how we came from a rich civilization that was not only wealthy in gold and natural resources, but knowledge too. You always used to say: If you dont know your past, youll never know your future. I loved the way youd host open discussions. Youd not only school us but you gave us room to contribute and teach each other. You were a great listener and always gave impartial advice and wisdom. I could never fathom how you diagnosed my problems by just looking into my eyes, or asking a few questions. I always knew you were powerful. Our relationship was far from perfect but I always loved you. I enjoyed spending time with you because you always encouraged me to dream big and go after my dreams. You always said: Its all in the vision, if you can see it in your dreams, itll happen. I know when I started to get older, throughout my teenage years we drifted. You remarried and had another family, and I was mad at you because I didnt get to see you much of the time because you were even farther away. These teenage years were tough without you, I know we spoke on the phone sometimes but it werent the same as spend-

ing the weekend or holiday at your at on the Broadwater Farm estate. Things were never the same. I loved staying at your at when you lived on Broadwater Farm. We would arrive at yours late in the evening and when mum drove off and we were indoors, wed either order pizza, or Pitza as youd pronounce it, or go to the local food market, across the green and buy food for the next mornings breakfast. I loved the freshly baked Jewish at bread, thats what I remember most about Totti, and the way you cooked the baked beans with the onions, tomatoes and pepper, cornmeal dumplings and falafels! Ill never forget the way you cooked falafels. I often try to buy them from places and they taste horrible in comparison to yours, theyre just not on the same levels, not enough avor or crunch. Some days are really hard because Im beginning to see many things happening, and youre the only one I could sit and reason with about these things. Its weird how were opposite and similar in so many ways, the way we think, interests and how we move. Its amazing when I sit and think of the things youve taught me and how valuable the knowledge was. I think you knew how important the early years were, so you made sure you taught us all from early on. I dream about you quite a lot and quite frequently. When I do dream of you, were doing what we would be doing if you were in the physical realm, were strolling and discussing our private observations. Its as if youre here although you are in spirit and because you make up one half of me. The truth is, I miss you and every day that passes by I think of all the opportunities and chances I had to roll out on missions with you.I wish you were still alive, here in the physical realm because I really need you. I need to talk to you, I need to connect, I need guidance, and I need to paddle in your great lake of wisdom. Many times I ask
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the almighty why you of all had to be snatched away from me, why you, why take away the only person in the world who understood. Why were you taken away at a time when I needed you most, a time when I grew up and became an adult? Why have you been taken from me before my children had a chance to grow with you, why? Its always hard to accept the decisions of the Almighty because for all I know you serve as an inspiration for so many. I cant be selsh and ask why because so many people who knew you grieve you with every passing moment, as I do. You can relax on the right side with that big smile we all inherited knowing that you set us all on the path of righteousness, and as much as it is hard to deal with knowing that I cant hug you, its always comforting to know youre in my heart, as well as my memories alongside spirit, so in truth youre with me forever. I wont and Ill say this to both you and the Creator, the way you both molded me is quite strange because no matter how irrational I would like to be on any given situation, and bask in all the selsh drama, Im rational so I just brush it off and move on. Also since you moved into the heavens, I burst my bubble and now I live outside in the world, much happier, with more condence and optimism. Im not saying that your departure caused this but the whole period under that dark cloud after, to then overcome, to then carving a blueprint to my future and discovering what my purpose is, Id say that the situation made me step up. Besides I cant really ask why the Creator summoned your return because Im ofcially a month into my second quarter, which is a blessing because this time twenty-ve years ago I could easily been back upstairs. I guess thats the rationality kicking in again *silently shakes st at the sky*. I appreciate every moment Ive got down here and Ill continue to follow the calling and stick to completing the mission. I also wanted to let you know that when I talk of writing my name in the sky and travelling the universe, I simply mean nding oneself, following the divine blueprint and returning to the right side of you. Apologies Dad for writing messages to the creator in
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this letter, not that you mind but still, I guess you both know all of which I write as you listen and correspond with the heart Apologies for the late delivery too, I did start writing this on fathers day. Peace & Love Professor Ps I plan to get a few more tatts, tell the creator to go easy on me, Im a fellow creative, surely you both understand how us creators think and feel.

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CHAPTER 5

Real Ppl x Real Luv

18/09/2010 Im so fortunate to have real people around me, real people to conde in, real people to love. Real people are whom I surround myself with; all else is insignicant no matter how much they think they know they know nothing. Real people are a reection of yourself and are always there for you when you feel weak. Im blessed and fortunate to have someone real who I regard as my rock. Real people are the way forward, real people offer unbiased opinions, real people love you for being you, and real people respect you and what you stand for. Im fortunate to know real people; Im fortunate to know one person. Real people equates to real love multiplied by truth. Real people equates to real love, real love is truth, trust, respect, inspiration and progression. Real love is where my heart is, in the hands of a real person and in a circle of real people. I care not for the hisses of the asps in the grass for theyve never known much, Ive only got time for real people because real people know the real me, no diplomacy or political correctness, they know I am who I am and my many sides and moods. Im always there for my real people because its real love, pure. Real people equate to constructive energy, positive thoughts and movement. Im so fortunate to be surrounded by real people, real love, a real person x real love. I can only give thanks to the almighty because real people x real love x real energy equates to progress for all of us. If you arent of use to my operation or state of affairs, or rather if you arent real people x real love Im not really into whatever it is. Real people x real love are a mantra of progress and love
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so if your aim is the total opposite I bid you all farewell. Real people x real love are the keys to the future so lets make history.

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CHAPTER 6

Don't Fear Failure

29/09/2010 Failure is not something not to be feared nor considered, just go for whatever it is you want and achieve your goal, live your dream. Failure is always a certainty because its the opposite of success, its a 50% certainty of the outcome with anything you do. The more time, effort, energy and enthusiasm you put into something, the more chance you have of success because luck is not something that happens, you create it by doing. In order for luck to come your way, you need to put the right energy into the universe so it can ow back to you. Forget failure because it lies next to success in the future, put your trust and consider what you do in the present as the most important. The present is the only place you can see, touch, hear, smell and feel. Work on a second to second basis, all else, past and future is void. Seek your prize, put yourself into the moment and stay in your present continuously, to build.

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Each second becomes a brick, lay one brick per second of your existence, each brick you lay represents a step of progression. Build the highest, and most robust, from a very strong and stable foundation, which will evolve into a town, a city, a whole universe of endless possibility The present is where destiny lies so grab it embrace it whilst u can. It goes nowhere but it also requires you to stand up and say: Forget failure, Im going for mine. This moment is forever, There is neither past nor future, Just right now. Think about it this way; God transcends time, God lives in one moment because that one moment transcends all time frames because God is eternal, boundless. It makes no sense to procrastinate become boundless, innite, and timeless as the divine, live in the moment. God is successful because God lives outside of the hourglass, and dictates life in the connes of the hourglass from the outside. Live in your moment, thats all that matters, forget failure just do, be present because its one of the only places you can trust yourself to make a difference.

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CHAPTER 7

Reflective Isolation
12/10/2010 A pensive cloud has settled on top of my brain, on a cloudy autumn afternoon, through a cold autumn evening, to a night where a full moon illuminates the dark autumn sky. The moon shines in all its glory as I sit here again, another night, pondering. The only trains of thought that travel through my mind is that of the future, why do I always think of the future? I wonder whether a future even exists, is life but a day, a very long day where you are always awake until you stop breathing? When we sleep we are still breathing, our minds are still active on some depth of consciousness, so based on a technically life is but a day. Ive often been asked: If today was your last day, what would you do? My answer to that question was always something silly, until I paused before answering.
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I realised that I could not answer such a question, such questions seem simple yet are ever so complex as there are so many answers. How does one go about nding a priority in ones day of life, especially when this day is truly ones last day as a mortal? Ive always had a thirst for knowledge and Ive never understood how some individuals can spend their day of life as a mortal in one place, one circumstance, never making an effort to explore. Im alien to that way of life. When the day is done, I have no idea where I will be transported to, I may even return to where I once was or travel in a totally different direction, but Id like to say that when I was on planet earth as a mortal, I explored every corner of the globe in pursuit of home. Living conned to one square mile is no way for me to enjoy my day of freedom. I feel that if I were to stay in the same place, one fails to show any appreciation for all the beauty the creator hath bestowed on to the world. I show my appreciation by documentation of ones many trains of thought, experiences and emotions. By doing so I believe I take a step closer to the creator. Each second I bake and lay a brick to build a stairway, a seven storey stairway of progression to bridge the gap between oneself and the divine.

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CHAPTER 8

Beautiful Struggle
27/10/2010 En route to the light Im beginning to get impatient, and with impatience you get insecurity, some of the things you were most certain about, you begin to question. These trains of thought are always rather destructive because they seem to spiral out of control. Not only do they affect your general mood they affect your health, which affects your general wellbeing and motivation. You begin to lose inspiration because you no longer live brick by brick, you begin to see in the now rather what youre working towards. When you began your quest, it was all a dream, it was simple, it was imaginary, it was special because only you could understand. Now the idea has escaped your imagination into the world where there is a universal mantra of impossibility, youre faced with the outlandish crusade of making your idea possible. How are you going to ensure what will materialise is exactly as the blueprint in your imagination, what steps will you take? The trouble is, you can never follow the blueprint in your imagination to exactly how you see it, and the devil is in the detail. The picture you paint in your mind is a guide for you to follow, a yellow brick road that leads to the light outside of your struggle.

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Sometimes its hard to believe when you begin to spiral but Im a rm believer in nding light in your darkest moment. You can spiral and spiral until you suddenly nd your inspiration to reverse the negative thought process. Its quite like mathematics where a positive always results in a positive, a positive and negative results in a negative, and two negatives result in a positive I think Ive spun into a bit of a tangent but the basis of this was to let you know that theres always a bright side, and theres always light to be found in darkness quite like the stars that glimmer in the distance, on top of the blanket of the night sky. Peace and Love K O. Golding Ps This post was inspired by a conversation (excerpt below) between friends over Blackberry Messenger. I cant thank this person enough for giving me space to spill all of my concerns before offering an impartial point of view.

Im jus gettin lil attacks n stuff, buggin out inside my head about a lot of stuff. I keep gettin this feelin of the walls closing in making me wanna try n escape but Im tryna stay strong and ght thru my probs. I know Im capable, I know people believe but its hard to take a lot of it serious when I hardly believe in my self. I feel as if Im jus a delusional dreamer at times and I get scared because I dont know what the future holds. I know what my imagination wants, I know its capable of all impossibility but am I jus living inside the bubble of my imagination, shall I just stop dreaming and face the music that things in this vivid imagination of mine shall never materialise, or shall I plough on through the fog of demons in this long dark tunnel to brighter days at the

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end? The thing is that its like the concept of faith and belief, were in the long dark tunnel but we know not if there is light at the other end, we simply know nothing, the only thing we know is to have faith in the unseen and believe in our dreams, intuition and imagination because it will always give us hope that theres a happy ending. So thats where Im at, melancholic but bright tryna stay on top of all the demons that spring up along the straight narrow path leading back to the divine.

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CHAPTER 9

Train Of Thought Real Talk

01/11/2010 The moods set; lamp on facing the ceiling, giving my laboratory a real contemplative vibe. All I can see is layer upon layer of words on the wall, sort of like a mood map of my aspirations over the years, and how theyve managed to morph into one gigantic jigsaw. Have I solved it? When I read Where Is KO? or What The Fuck? I wonder whether Im any closer to nding out. It may be apparent that Im always in search of something that I know not exactly I seek because my father named me after the second caliphate, which went in search of his teacher to nd it was he who was to school himself under Gods guidance So all this inspiration, the things I hear the ideas, I dont think its me at all, its the creator. All I can do is follow the path and listen to the message no matter how fearful it is, Ive got to remember that patience is always necessary. Its so easy to become reliant on other people, its even easier to have your ego inated too, humility is key to getting to God. Humility is the only way to get things done because you wont be basking in the poisonous gas of egocentricity, theres no complacency in pursuit of perfect, perfection being God. Over the years Ive met so many people who talk a good game, using names as if they were passports, talking about needs, wants and got to haves, these people seem to have
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a constant could do narrative rather than a Do or rather Doing one. When I hear narratives such as these with no results I become sceptical, why, because I hear these conversations repeatedly, a recurring cycle. Everyones got something ready that theyre waiting to mix or master or get signed but whats the bigger picture, whats the longterm objective? Dont mistake this for anything industry related because Im not getting at all of that, I just want to know about personal fulllment. Do you want the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, or would you love to create and get pleasure out of doing Gods work, following the messages and moving when inspired to make the vision inside your head into something tangible across all dimensions, sensory systems and mediums? Funnily enough theres many things going on whereby things certainly have regressed to a major degree. How we as creators, mere mortals reverse the paradigm of current thinking, the modern day culture that a majority have only a notion of self and not feel they owe any gratitude to an external source. Believe it or not Im not religious in any shape or form, I believe in God, I worship, praise and give thanks to the divine who allows me to wake up each morning to see a new day, the same absolute who guides my trains of thought and illuminates the path ahead. I feel theres a big difference to being religious and being Godly. Being religious in my eyes is slightly restrictive on thought, behaviour and receiving the message because your mind is programmed to think, feel, transmit and interpret a certain way. Being Godly on the other hand gives you freedom to receive and trust the message, it allows you to see further aeld, in panoramic vision. It also and most important makes you realise that many religions, almost all, preach the same universal message which suit different people, sort of like assortments of avours, pick which things you like because you dont have to consume the others. This is in no way disrespectful or patronising to anyone who practices a religion, were all in the same boat because we all have faith, a belief in something which is not yet
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proven nor articulated as everyone has their own denition and picture of what the creator could look like based on the sights, images and information we consume on a daily so I guess the key is seeing past what we feel is real to believe in all the impossible because the real maybe and in most cases is a construction of smoke, mirrors, and deception whilst the impossible is always attainable Its time to reverse all zeitgeist, paradigm, contemporary culture, habitual instinctive action in favor of the spontaneous, the spontaneous combustion being the notion of leaving all action in the hands of the divine.

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C H A P T E R 10

Migraine Or Madness?
11/11/2010 My brain is aching I really need to slow down and reassess I had a really vivid dream earlier My brains been trying to decipher the algorithm. Whats the equation? Whats the verdict? Is there a common theme or is it just a dream? I feel that I should follow my instincts, nd what my hearts trying to tell me and listen. Ive been running around solely controlled by my emotions, somedays my head, other days my heart. Thats three places that share equal power when making decisions. The best thing for me to do and meditate so all become balanced as they once were. The dream also told me to stop being afraid of being alone. Theres really nothing wrong with being alone. Much of the time its me and my thoughts. In another point of view Im never lonely because I always have God with me.
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To me God is the only one I need. My dream also told me to nd a direction back onto the path I was on. The same path that I had discovered and became focus and led to me being inspired again to write, create music and be artistic. The more I deviate from the path is the more isolated and maroon I feel. The dream taught me that I must be in control of my destiny by making things happen rather than waiting around or depending on other avenues. I kept hearing the words:

Assemble the tools while I slowly connect the dots.

Over and over for days on end. I thought this was a big sign and I shall need to remember everything I thought of all those months and years ago I must put into action. Theres no time like now. I must not lose momentum in any shape or form. I must keep going. The dream taught me about Navigation and the power of retracing steps to nd my way through a narrow window of destiny. Im at uni for a reason. Its unnished business. I was always academically inclined but I deviated from the path. I never quite understood but I feel that everything has happened for a reason. I feel like Ive gone 360. Its a new start.

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With this knowledge and the way the dream shook me up, I realise that I can no longer waste time emotionally drained under a dark cloud I dont know is over my head. Im my happiest and free Ive ever been. Ive nally discovered who I am, my purpose in life and Ive got a few achievements. I feel like Im en route to victory and for that ride itll be me and the absolute on the magic carpet of the divine. The ride will be bumpy. The ride will have valleys and peaks. Therell be demons wholl sing the sweet whisperings as the Sirens once did to steer Ancient Greek sailors off course but the wings of the divine are powerful. As long as I ride with the divine nothing can get to me unless I forget how much power the divine possesses. Its all in the mind. I remember my father telling me from a young age:

Beware of Vampires, theyll suck every part of your energy and light.

My eyes are always open. Ive got my stake and hammer ready. Ive got my forceeld of divine energy. My divine bubble of inspiration. Im ready to go out into the world and see whats on offer Ps My migraine has gone, writing really is therapy for me. I feel like the cloud was full of unprocessed trains of thought which have now travelled off into the universe. I dunno
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if I solved the mystery of my vivid dream but what Ive wrote just now has left me feeling jovial and optimistic.

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C H A P T E R 11

Self Imposed Exile

11/11/2010 After a few successes and achievements youd think Id be celebrating but youd be surprised at how different it is in reality. I dont feel balanced, my heart, head, and emotions conict with each other because they all want different things, they all want to say things in different ways, and they all have different thresholds of tolerance. This trinity of thought, feeling, and expression needs to brought into alignment. Somehow I need to strike a balance, an agreement between all three. The solution is to reassess to progress. Sorta like acclimatising, I really need to take time out from everything. I really need to contemplate, meditate, to formulate a plan of action. A lot has happened, so much has happened. I nd myself giving myself pep talks all the time, similar to stay busy, focus on your goals and aspirations.

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The pursuit of my goals and aspirations is a very lonely process because you retire inwards to be pensive, look outwards for signs of inspiration before diving into yourself to nd an avenue to funnel your creativity through. I feel exile is quite necessary because I really need to think, I need to nd my direction again, I dont like feeling lost. Maybe its because for eight months out of my life I didnt feel like the loner I was so used to being. Ive always become accustomed to retreating and retiring inwards rather than living life outwards, apart of the crowd, tting in. For eight months someone spoke the same language. The life of a creative thinker is lonely because as an artist I often view the world through art and see life as an illusion. The idea of time is an illusion, what we see, feel, language, signs, symbols, are all illusions. What if I were to say the sky is not blue on a clear summers day, it is scarlet. Every one would think Ive lost my mind. Id have an army of people trying to contest my view with all their science and preconceived ideas trying to tell me what is, what isnt, what it should be, why it should be. Theyll try to shut down my point of view with their pre established habitual ideas, tryna force me round to their way of thinking, their ways of interpretation, constant comparisons of polarities and levels of whatever. All of which result in suppression of my creative activity, making me scared to do anything outside of what the masses deem to be acceptable.

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The only thing arising out of suppression is rebellion because what you ultimately try to force inside a big chest deep in the depths of the subconscious, will slowly seep ideas. Ideas which escape and plant the seeds of inspiration in the conscious mind and allow you to progress. I think Ive suppressed everything creatively for so long that my chest of secrets has burst open. I care not for the views of others nor the rules of convention, I spare nothing in the path of being artistic. There comes a time when you realise everything has been an illusion, a mirage of sorts. Rather than see what you really see, you become caught up in the smoke and mirrors, wandering. To wander is not a bad thing as its a learning curve which inspires you to question these conventional illusions through unconventional art. Upon observation Ive realised that many people develop a dependency on people and possessions. I myself am far from innocent concerning this but Ive realised that as you gradually allow yourself to unravel through artistic means, it forces you to become one with yourself as you question all these things. Why do you have a dependency on that particular brand, that particular possession, that particular person? The way they make you feel right?

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The way you get butteries and tingle when you see the new collection at your favourite store, put on those shoes, see and speak to that person right? Its an addiction. Youre in love. No matter how you try to break it down its relative. Love is the biggest illusion of them all, not a negative in any shape or form but its always so easy to lose yourself in all its fruits which then become its trappings. The way you feel, what you tolerate at the low points because you feel so good when youre at the high points, the endless spirals of what you want it to be and believe, making a mountain out of something that never existed. You become addicted. Addicted to the thrills. Addicted to the spoils of war. Addicted to the fruits of emotion. Addicted to the highs. Accepting the lows. Smoke and Mirrors. Illusions. Hurt. Hurting. Pain. Broken records skipping over the same lines. Freeze.
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Defrost. Detachment. Pushing. Pulling. Self Preservation. Broken dreams and self esteem. A tarnished heart and spirit. As much of a success the heights of love were, you still end up regretting the hurt and pain inicted upon yourself and the other. The emotion consumes you whilst the pheonix of resentment rises and burns everything within its path. All bridges are lost. All ties severed. All letters turnt to ash. Your words no longer mean nothing. The diary you spent writing all that time ago has nothing left to it. The only bits that survive are the memories, but even so the memories of the good times have become over cast by the clouds of darkness, which led to the nal curtain being drawn. It all becomes an illusion, which sits in the memories youd rather not remember until you end up burying and forgetting. I guess life goes on. I guess its time to leave the departure lounge and board the plane.

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I guess its time to bid farewell to the island and document my time spent through a string of odes, which politely capture all moments. Im going into self imposed exile. I need to readjust. Ive sent a few messages. I hope you understand.

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C H A P T E R 12

Whats It All About?

15/11/2010 This thing called life, whats it all about? Is it about money, power and respect? Is it about love, peace and harmony? Is it about being good, bad and repentant? Is life simply what you make of it? I personally feel its the latter. Who knows when the clock will stop, will you be satised when you suddenly nd yourself back where you started without any chance to do all the things you wanted? Life is what you make of it. Some may argue that its by the will of the Divine, but is it? Has everything already been written? If so does the Divine give you free will to follow whats programmed deep into your soul? Whats it all about?

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Is it all about being afraid to step out of line? Is it about being guilty for your honest actions? Is it about being scared of burning in hell re? Whys there always an emphasis on panic and despair? Whats your life about? My life involves seeking answers to my ever inquisitive mind, whilst exploring the vast wilderness of creativity, documenting my existence and writing a diary to give to the Divine just in case they are watching someone else. This thing called life, whats it all about? It could be your own feature lm or television drama. You could be transmitting the world through your eyes into the outer regions of the universe who are so far ahead of our time, they already know whats happening next week, year, lifetime. If we cast our eyes back to the question Is it written? You can connect the dot to instinct and intuition which allows the mind to calculate and foresee events, forecasting what is going to happen. One must be extremely attentive to take action because some signs are much more subtle than others, which you only realise what just happened once its too late. This thing called life, whats it all about? Explore yourself. Know yourself inside out.
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Love yourself. Be honest. See the beauty in everything. Look on the bright side. Its so easy to dwell upon and remember the darkness but we seldom remember the good times, the times we basked considering seven suns. Times where nothing outside of us mattered. Us. Team Seven. This thing called life, whats it all about? Love. Peace. Exploration. Discovery. Its only when you put these four cornerstones in place is when you can build a serene temple. Life is what you make of it so dont waste it because this may be one chance in seven lifetimes to live amongst and experience life as mortals. Peace

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C H A P T E R 13

Laughing In My Sleep
16/11/2010 Why was I in bed laughing, I was sleeping but I was laughing? Thats all I remember. I was laughing so hard that my chest was aching. Late Saturday night into the early hours of Sunday morning, why was I laughing? That short burst of laughter when I remember something out of the blue, more of an exhale of relief, a breath of life. Why that night? What was the signicance? The following day I was dancing about and singing, jovial, in praise of another day, a few blessings that the Divine had spared a few lives and allowed me to live to see another quarter. Only the stars know. Perplexed.
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Intrigued. Relieved. I dont know why I was up laughing in my sleep but it felt good. Laughter is always a great sign. Bright. Pleasant. Im experiencing these random moments of laughter much more often. To laugh in my sleep is a blessing. To laugh is great. Tryna gure out whether it was Friday night going into Saturday morning. I was just in a jolly mood. Those moods where I do crazy stuff. Nothing too crazy. I just bask in all things bright. Become entranced in the light. Nothing whatsoever affects me. I think of nothing. I feel nothing but bright jolly madness. Maybe its my moment of Zen who knows. Lecture mates, colleagues, and friends know all too well about these moments of madness. I lose myself on the wave of energy.
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For long durations, or short bursts of time, to then snap out and become normal. Reminding myself where I am. Scanning my environment and retreating into my mind, until the next moment of madness. I laugh in my sleep. I daydream. I laugh in my head. I live in my imagination. The hardest part is trying to paint a picture of my imagination because the colors arent as vivid in the world of actuality. If only you knew what was behind the eyes and the rest of the senses. Maybe youd begin to understand why I laugh to myself. I laugh in my sleep.

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C H A P T E R 14

Who Knows?
16/11/2010 I really dont know why I didnt accept the contract, why did I politely decline when I really wanted to sign the dotted line? I wont ever get an offer that good ever again. Why didnt I sign? I really wanted to but I had a gut feeling of sorts telling me to have a long hard think. I really dont like the feeling like I left anyone in limbo, that really werent my intention but I didnt want to go against my gut feeling. Instinct. Intuition. Inspiration. Insight. Who knows? Do you? Do I? Do we?
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Do they? The future is not written. Choices determine your future. Consequences shape your next move. Lifes like a corridor. Each door leads to a next hall of doors. You can never go back but each door leads to a next set of circumstances that may feel like a previous set to relive lessons. Who knows? Ive been developing that philosophy for years to nd it played out on television. Gotta love the way the universe works. My point is I could go through a few doors and nd myself back at the table faced with a contract. I may even sign. I am not talking about signing souls away. The contract is becoming intertwined in ways you could never imagine. Who knows? One day I may sign. All depends on how the choices, doors and corridors work. Choice. Consequence. Circumstance.

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C H A P T E R 15

Navigation
16/11/2010 I really need to achieve something. I feel like all this writing, music, and creativity will amount to nothing if I dont achieve something. Ive been published in print and online, Ive been played on national radio but I need to turn this into something full time rather than something partial. I have no desire whatsoever to be working a 9-5 or every weekend in a shop, its not on. Im spending my days writing, making music, recording, travelling, and taking pictures. The arts is how Ill survive. Ive had enough of never having enough to show anyone. No compilation. No body of work. No recognition. Nothing. People close to me have an idea of what Im capable of but I myself dont feel like I t in.
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Not necessarily a factor of tting in but Im spinning. Dont know why or how but Im spinning. I see where I can go but Im in the fog, that dark spiral. The same place that I ask for directions to the stairs and a light to be shone upon me. Nothing seems certain. I write. I blog. I record. I have this burning desire to explore, which involves gathering all my provisions. Stay disciplined. Stay focused. Stay tenacious. Invest time. Invest energy. Have ambition. Its difcult to stay grounded when you feel the whole world is moving along without you. Thats probably the reason I threat much of the time. I know I shouldnt but I do. Maybe I need a pair of blinders so I can concentrate on my lane rather than see ashes of others.

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Assemble your tools, while I slowly connect the dots. Im trying to keep this in mind. Im trying to remember. Im going to write it on my arm. Ive got my head in the stars every night seeking an answer. Not trying to solve the mystery but Im following the clues. Following the signs. Reading all messages. Wherever they lead I really dont know, Im just trying to nd and realise my destiny. An alien trying to nd home.

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C H A P T E R 16

Man On The Moon

16/11/2011 Sometimes I wish I had a spaceship. If I did, Id venture out into space to see all there is to see. I came across a quote by St. Augustine which read something similar to

The world is like a book, if you dont travel you only read one page.

I feel like Ive been cemented to one place for the whole rst quarter. I love it here, I really do, but I need to explore. I yearn to discover new places. I need inspiration. New scenery. New experiences. New memories. New sounds. New words.
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I just need to move. I just feel stagnant. Ive got the same thoughts on loop. Repetition. Skipping. Loop. I need to shufe. Patience only gets you so far on the road of life. I want to live. I dont just want to dream. I want to live, Not dwell in my imagination where I can do everything and anything. I want to experience these dreams on planet earth and beyond. Feel. Touch. Smell. Taste. Remember. Document. Words cant express the desire I have to explore. Not escape. Explore. I dont want all the money and fame.
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I want to be comfortable. I just want to be. Be creative. Be artistic. Be articulate. On the move. Im a humble thinker who wishes to express himself. Creativity is fuel to be on the move. No compromise. No commercial forecasts. No rules. No boundaries. Nothing apart from truth. Nothing apart from sincerity. Create. Diverse. Style.

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C H A P T E R 17

What Would Dad Say?

17/11/2010 Sometimes things happen and I ask myself

What would dad say?

I just wish I could dial heaven and ask for an answer. You lot who have both parents alive are all so lucky, especially those whove got a father who can relate to and school them on all levels. My father passed nearly two years ago and I miss him increasingly every day that goes by. The thought of dad not being around to talk to leaves me so sombre because I wish that I had conded in him when he walked the earth. I feel as though I took him for granted. What would dad say? Im wondering what hed say to me right now if I sat down and told him everything weighing on my mind. I wonder how hell consult and begin to address my situation and state of circumstances.
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It would be great to talk to my dad frankly as Id school him I think probably the only man on earth who could possibly understand. What would dad say? Its hard to imagine but I remember how he addressed all situations and the knowledge he gave me. I hear his voice so much of the time and follow instruction. I nd myself trying to nd him when I feel my back against the wall. Im always like

Arggghhh Dad, where are you, what shall I do?

I suppose that in my fathers passing Ive gained a guardian angel, dad has become the intermediary with God. Ill always praise god primarily but in times of trouble Ill call my guardian angel, my father. Dad is like my personal tutor so if I cant take the issue with God straight away, I evoke the spirit of my guardian to assist me with the case before its presented to the Divine. Intuition. Intervention. Inspiration. Instinct. Whether its a voice, gut feeling or the direction of your soul leading you into battle. I walk blindly knowing Im guided by a light thats visible to the soul but at a level superior to the spectrum.

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Navigation. Compass. Stars. Maps. Astral projection. Im trying to steer my humble rowing boat across the sea of uncertainty. Theres no land in the distance, just waves and a wind that has my boat sailing in circles, everywhere but my desired destination. Only God knows why the wind keeps blowing me off course. I feel like Odysseus trying to return to Ithica after the Trojan war. Have I angered anyone in the skies? All I can do is remain attentive. Eyes on the stars. Sailing through constellations. En route into the universe. Will I ever see the sun again? Will I return to the skies? Will I end up somewhere far removed from my current reality? Only the Divine and my Father knows. Wher Art Thou Khalleo? On a vast sea of opportunity trying hard to stay aoat to return home. Have faith. Be peaceful. Love life.
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Create. Diverse. Style. Where Is KO? En route to serenity

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C H A P T E R 18

I Surrender, Dear
19/11/2010 How am I supposed to forage peacefully when there are all sorts of poachers in pursuit of my scarlet footprints. Im just trying to survive, eat, and stay alive. If its not poachers, its critics visiting my gallery, scrutinizing everything they lay eyes upon. They fail to see anything beyond the surface, behind all the artwork; portraits, sculptures, calligraphy, all else. Youd think these critics would have some idea of what has taken place, youd think theyd creatively connect the dots from piece to piece to nd an answer. Think unconventional. Sure in the world of arithmetic, 1+1=2 but in my world arithmetic means nothing, its all unconventional. Dont attempt to conclude nor review what you fail to understand, which reminds me of a quote I picked up along my travels

Dont call the world dirty because you forgot to clean your glasses.
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That is of course apt nor irrelevant dependent on your perspective in the situation at hand, even if there is one, is there something specic I am addressing or is this a set of ambiguous keyholes into a spiral of mystery? Who knows I write because I get this urge to send all trains of thought and creativity out into the universe to sow seeds of ideas and ambition. Green light Thelonious Monk is a legend. Unconventional. Create. Diverse. Style. When I rst began to listen I found it difcult but I ploughed through and found that it strikes a chord with me in so many ways. Thelonious reminds me of the loner with a head full of ideas but no one except him realises how grand they are. Its as if he is speaking through playing the piano. Dissonant keys and harmonies, playing the keys in between the keys, a reection upon life in the sense that not everything ts together perfectly but it all bears relevance to each other in many respects. Theres so many I love but one of my personal favorites is I Surrender, Dear.'
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Its so sweet, it says a lot, taking you on a journey of words as the piano rolls along as the syllables roll off the tongue to say all that was on the train of emotion. No words, just a piano

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C H A P T E R 19

Algebra
28/11/2010 What does x and y represent? Is x the unknown and y the question? Would it be simple to answer a question, replying with a few words, or would it be much simpler in the long run to write a dissertation to present to the party posing the question as the simple answer may not answer the many questions, whilst the lengthy elaboration may answer all or lead to more questions? Who decides what answer is long or short, what happens once you answer, will the party posing the question be satised with your sincerity, or will you have to answer in a way that suits the party posing the question to quash further versions of the same question from arising? Think about it One question can be posed so many times depending on how youve dressed it up, whilst one question can be answered on every occasion, replying is not necessarily answering the question.

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Language is a very powerful tool. Language is something to be admired because not only does everyone interpret something of communal agreement on different extremes, levels can be created which never existed rst by way of author and audience. Theres so many perspectives of interpretation. Character. Syllable. Word. Sentence. Everything is open to interpretation. All interpretation does not always relate to intention. Language is a realm of perplexing paradox. So whats the value of x against y, is there any tangible relation, what makes x and y so signicant, why the letters x and y, why not something totally different? X is the unknown, Y is the question.

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C H A P T E R 20

The Long Route

28/11/2010 If you assumed I took the long route home so I could write, youd be right. Much of the time the whirlwind of being in a rush doesnt allow us to slow down to a pace where we can all think and function properly. When you run on a treadmill you dont press stop and the machine stops in the midst of it moving so fast, it gradually stops, quite like life and the nature of all things. As humans we gradually peak and decompose, as do plants germinate, grow vegetation and lose their leaves as their roots begin to outgrow the plant and plot of land where the plant sits. Trees grow from lil seeds and lose their leaves in the autumn to grow them again in the spring, as humans we nd ourselves in circumstances, we are prone to become victims of scenario, played out across seven lifetimes and seventy-thousand civilisations, thus the nature of life. Just as the tree loses all its leaves in the autumn, the ower on the window sill loses its petals, all of which fall onto the soil and nourish it in the process. My point is just as quickly as we become strong and mighty, we soon become weak and feeble, before ultimately ceasing to exist whereby we decompose to nourish the land, making it fertile to sprout again with tales of the last cycle of events, and methods to stand tall within the most brutal of storms.

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C H A P T E R 21

On The Edge of Heaven

29/11/2010 I write because I feel its necessary to get to the root of why I feel this way. I write because I cant hide the way I feel, I cant mask my feelings. I may not talk but Ill always write. Writing for me is my release from everything cementing me to the soil. Writing is the means by which I nd my truth. It allows me to unravel all layers and get to the core of the issue. I cant not write, that would be like not breathing. Its natural. Its organic. It ows. I watched a lm tonight and it made quite an impression on me about my writing. I also read an article which did the same. What am I waiting for?

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If all these trains are simply a puzzle, why should they be kept a secret, why should I hide them away? I guess I publish my trains so my friends from a distance can keep an eye on me. I guess I publish if there is anything happening, theres a trace of my life until a certain point, from a point. I dont publish for readers, nor ratings, I write because its an organic process, I think therefore I record. Why must we always feel compelled to make a mountain out of a mole hill, whats wrong with living a humble existence whilst recording and publishing trains of pensive activity? The problem lies in ambition, aspiration, imagination, ideas, and dreams. Ive got innite amounts. I have so much, so many, Im always inspired. Im hungry. Theres no more doubt or esteem issues, theres only one destination The heavens. I can only write so much and experiment in so many different styles before I realise that for each piece I write, each time I exercise my craft, I excel and gain more condence, I get published, I get good reviews, all of which reinforce why Im on this path. Theres always a few obstacles in the path that we overcome but through the power of hindsight we begin to learn from our mistakes, we begin to listen to our instincts instead of going against them in favour of our lustful desires, we learn to become our true selves, we learn to let go and stand alone, we learn that our strength has always resided inside ourselves instead of inside others, we learn from the lessons, we learn

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where all the signs were, we see where the signs are, we learn, we master, we become, we overcome, we live, we survive, we are the result of hindsight becoming foresight. Theres never room for regret in my lifetime, life is way too short to beat oneself up about a spilt bottle of milk, grab a cloth and wipe up the mess you made then move on. Simple. Voices. Words. Memories. Whispers. Messages. I care not for any, the way that I see things, bin seeing things rather, it was all necessary. One has to stay in front of the clock, one has to stay writing, one has to stay typing, one has to stay optimistic, one has to stay focused, one has to stay inspired, one cant allow oneself to be distracted. No doubt about it. One has to navigate ones route through the globe in a clockwise manner, travelling east to west. One has to return to the holy land, one has to travel in solitude, one has to set out on a journey of discovery, one has realised it is possible to pack a bag and move, one made the prophesy to all events in passports One feels that the spaceship is coming along nicely as each moment of inspiration comes, one doesnt regret recent expenditure but one has to become frugal, one prepares to take off on the cusp of the second quarter, one shall set out on the journey of a lifetime, one will become one on a journey into one on ones two feet and one bag.
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Seriously. I feel like I have the world at my feet, a cold iron cant get the creases out of my check shirt so Ive gotta strike while its hot. The power of now. The power of doing what I feel is necessary. The power of making progress at a pace I dictate. The power of liberation. The power of making an important decision. The power to walk away from the shore and out to the sea on a raft made of words, dreams, ambition, aspiration, and a vivid imagination for a sail. Who knows where the winds will blow, I have no fear or doubts about where Ill end up because I have taken control of the steering wheel. With the guidance of the divine I shall voyage in pursuit of my destiny. So under the dim crescent moon in a clear winters sky, I set sail into the unknown, in pursuit of adventure

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C H A P T E R 22

Chain Letters
30/11/2010 Sometimes you do things and wonder why, for a split second you question yourself why it happened but theres nothing much you can do once its happened. Whats the worst that could happen? How long will it take to happen? When will it happen? Anticipation, worry, or observation into how long it takes for the chain to deliver the commodity back to the source to analyse how distorted everything has become? All are relative no matter how far fetched this train of rhetoric social observation is. Intrigued? Whatever happens one may always be the subject of a guilds douchebag toasts; glasses raised high, highlighting all manner of imperfective character traits, before the bitter smiles and laughter follow the clink and its many delayed echoes

Runaway as fast as you can.

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C H A P T E R 23

0443
01/12/2010 Right now I feel like this whole thing has shattered me into millions of pieces. On a real. All the years spent trying to force change, all the years of forced reform, all the years of walls, all the years of journeying inwards, all the years of locking things away Everything has crumbled. I feel as though some big earthquake has just obliterated my ideals to smithereens. I feel as though the character I tried to front on, the character I deemed a monster, the very soul of this man that I conned to a Pandoras chest of secrets, deep within the heart of my Hades, deep within the heat of my heart was the criminal known for leaving a string of broken hearts, a string of moments to be cherished by very few who were lucky enough to runaway with a young gentleman set on being peter pan. I conned the last romantic to a box of secrets whilst I let the plague of love roam free for the rst time in years.

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I thought I was different, truth is Im no different from the gentleman I was all those years ago, I just somehow managed to en tangle myself in a frame of mind where I began to persecute myself for living. I began to have a desire to settle, rather than move in pursuit of adventure. Theres nothing wrong with trying to change, theres nothing wrong with reform, theres nothing wrong with any of the above, but when you step outside of this notion, you realise that you were lying to yourself all along.

Aint no sense in me lying as if Im a different man.

Ill never change. Deep down I always knew. I love to move. Im upset, of course I am, but I also feel liberated at the same time. I tried for years, I was on a crusade, I journeyed to nd something pure, I realised that life werent for me, it really wasnt. Sure I could have accepted, I could have gone along for the ride but I sensed the chest opening months previous, the monster was on his way out, the man had awoken. It was the second quarter and life had just started moving again. In actuality Im no monster, fact its quite the contrary, its a side of me that I lost touch with, a side of me that Id always remember, a side of me that always existed but I was grew inwards, and became afraid to embrace it. Why now?

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Im sick of pretending, Im sick of all the suppression, I feel like all this over thinking has to stop. Im true to who I am, what I believe in, and what I do. I felt like I need to breathe, I can breathe, I am breathing, I am one with myself. I realise that I had to have my big fortress smashed to smithereens with a big wrecking ball, wreaking havoc as it swung back and forth. It was necessary. The man inside is nally free to roam the earth again after years spent in the depth of Hades inside Pandoras chest of secrets. Freedom. Its almost like a revolution of thought, a reversal in personal ideology. Any last words? I know what the spirit would and always will say, were the same. Please dont assume nor conclude nor evoke the spirit against me, never a good idea, never a good look, never a good thing to do, evoking the spirit to justify your perspective is not and was not a good look, its never as simple as switching sides, this is no courtroom, if the spirit were a witness therell be no room for justication, therell be no room for agreement, the spirit is ones personal guardian, the source from which one came, one does not take kindly to one trying to evoke the spirit for ones personal means in the court of political debate. This is certainly not an election, theres no room for political spin, never ever attempt to evoke the spirit for use against one in any way, shape or form. Cases are won by truth, action, and sincerity with all cases being amicable in the eyes of time, as events begin to unfold.
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One exercised ones right, one tried to mend the damage one had caused, one realised it was never that simple but one ploughed on regardless to ones own demise Cue the wrecking ball. Cue the crumbling fortress. Cue the release of the spirit. Cue the light. Cue the rise of the omega level spirit. The Verdict They question ones validity, integrity, and certication to their own detriment. Some make remarks without seeing the body of evidence. Some make observations from afar. Some fuel the hot air balloon for their own means. I on the other hand can only do what I feel is right, I cant base decisions I feel right in making because none else will ever agree, I refuse to compromise my happiness. Progression. The wind was right, the stars were bright, I felt the time was right to sail. Ones actions simply cant please all but Ive become an enemy, a villain, and a demon in the eyes of some, whilst others think Im sensible. Who cares? I cant simply be what anyone else wants me to be against my better judgement and wishes. I cant live my life caring what others think of me or my actions.

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Sure they can persecute me, they can assassinate my character, turn many people against me, but who are these people who make these judgements? Theyre all human right? They bleed as I bleed right? They inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide right? Who are they to judge my course of action? They know nothing. They know nothing at all. Its all a matter of paintbrushes, canvases and hues. Theres certainly no distortion on my part, theres just the perception and interpretation of an audiences observation. Im done with courtrooms, guilt ridden trips abroad, the various judges who have never met me in the esh, people who have met me but do not know enough to have a valid opinion, those that have spoken to me but dont know enough to say anything, those who have ulterior motives, assassins, snakes slithering through the grass, whispers, poachers, spies Spies? Im not silly, I knew the phones were tapped, I know all messages were scrutinised in the control room by intelligence ofcers, I had scanners and scramblers, which told me all character taps on the keypad were logged in a ling cabinet. I knew the agents were taking snapshots, they were snapping with their expensive DSLRs from unmarked vehicles when we were out and about. We posed, we smiled, we threw up y signs, its all entertainment.
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We gave the agents something to do, wouldnt want you to waste any resources, besides Im never one to shy away from being tagged in photos if you can locate my whereabouts What did all the intelligence, information, and evidence amount to in the end? Certainly not what any party expected but a similar result nonetheless

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C H A P T E R 24

Direction
02/12/2010 Its very rare that I sit in silence, the only thing I can hear is the sound of buzzing from the light a few centimeters away from me. I want to write, I felt like writing, I am writing. Where do I go from here? The more I write, the more progress I make, I feel like Im pushing myself even further, causing me to improve. I write much more frequently so its more easier to get a train of thought down, much simpler to type as I think, every thought becoming words, thinking one word or letter at a time, an unspeakable rhythm of events The more I think I realise that this is what I would like to do forever. Whatever it is Im writing will all culminate into something, somewhere along the line. As much as I want to hold back and wait for it all to unfold, I publish my work instantly because I wouldnt want it to be stale, I hate the feeling of using something that has been left to collect dust, I only like dealing in fresh organic produce because this is after all a set of memoirs dedicated to all trains

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So whats your point? Im not fussed about the future, Im only fussed about the present, a body of work, and my legacy. I can die tonight and feel satised because Ive littered the earth with a few treasures. I pray that I live to see all my work, creativeness, and dreams come to life as theres so much more I want to do, so much to arrive The main point I wanted to make is that Im not one of those status quo writers, Im no journalist, Im expressive, Ill stay documenting trains and writing my truth. I stumbled halfway through this paragraph because I dont want to sound selsh when I say, my truth, my trains, I just want to let you know that Im no journalist, nor writer, Im more of a collector because I document signicant moments This is really annoying, I dont know why Im even writing this, I just wanted to let you know that whatever it is I end up doing, itll be something I enjoy, something creative and subversive, not anything to do with the status quo I really dont like this but hey A train of thought nonetheless.

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C H A P T E R 25

Lonely Planet
02/12/2010 Certain times Im not in the mood to write, I dont set out nor intend to start writing but its the only way for me to stop my mind from spinning out of control. Certain times I wish in my heart of hearts that I didnt care, but I do, always will, will never forget. I feel like Im on a lonely planet. Stranded alone without provisions on a cold arid planet, I can hardly breathe, my stomach continues to shrink, days become so short that I hardly sleep, as I rest my head my alarm signals the start of a new day. Lonely planet. Cold. Isolated. Lost. Lonely Planet.

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C H A P T E R 26

Coins And Concrete

05/12/2010 Theres some mahoosive treasure hunt taking place, everyones out late diggin. Some are using metal detectors, whilst many others are using instinct, some are using spades, whilst others are using diggers. Whats with the treasure hunt you ask, why is everyone digging up the concrete, why are they all trying to penetrate an impermeable surface? If I had the answers Id be very wealthy. The truth is, theres always beauty in never knowing, theres always happiness in never solving some of lifes many mysteries, sometimes through not solving is the key to maintaining ones progress and happiness. Ive nished digging in all honesty, I sit outside of the concrete wilderness, out of sight and mind, admiring the view, the view that a lot of you fail to see because youre trying to dig up the concrete with youre nails, you are trying to penetrate the one thing that is totally impenetrable, several kilometres thick, densely constructed layers of concrete, yet you continue to dig with cheap plastic bucket and spades as if you reside by the seaside trying to build castles in the sin stained sand. With each scratch of concrete an-

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other layer of your ngertip becomes damaged, yet you continue to scratch, all of you, why? There are sights beyond the shallow riches which lurk beneath all the dense layers of concrete, if you turn away for one moment maybe one shall nd what you were searching for, my must one spend several lifetimes trying to penetrate an impenetrable surface, sure anything is possible but why must you spend every moment of eternity trying to penetrate a cold grey surface, several solar systems thick just for a thin piece of treasure which is all but one coin of measure, even if you get to it, will you ever enjoy it, or will you have no one to enjoy it with as when you began your quest to the core of the concrete you forgot about all else and went on a path into the cold, soulless concrete? Why? How come? What happened? All questions youll ask yourself when you dig to the other side of the world and realise youre far too deep inside the concrete to ever return, youve lost your soul, identity, and the very thing, which sets you apart from all else. Youve lost it. You realise that the concrete is so dense because its made up of all those who tried to bring the coin to the surface instead of turning the other way. All failed to see that the coin is no currency, its a mirage, a way of capturing the souls of the weak, and foolish amongst all backgrounds to further empower itself and its reputation.

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No one makes it out alive, beware the concrete, turn the other cheek and enjoy the beauty of what you already have rather than what you think you need, enjoy what you have rather than never be satised, resulting in you always wanting. Theres so much more to life than coins and concrete.

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C H A P T E R 27

Mirror Image
06/12/2010 What really goes on inside your head when you see your own reection? Is it usually as humorous when I see mine? Do you pull faces and fabricate expressions that youll normally pull in everyday conversation? What do you do? Do you smile and point at yourself when you take a peek? Do you always glare into your own eyes and become intrigued? Do you simply evade all contact with your reection so you avoid seeing what all else see when they look upon you? What do you do? Do you hide from your reection because youre scared to see what you know, are you scared to look at change and progression in the eye? What do you do? When I reect, I see a man, no longer the guy who wanted to be a grown up, I see the grownup who blossomed, the quiet guy who blossomed into a gentleman. The quiet

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guy who kept to his own thoughts, now the guy conned to the inner workings of the inside is now on the outside. Sometimes I feel like Clark Kent, I like to be normal almost all the time although I do always have my moments The thing about looking into the mirror and seeing your reection is that we l get uncomfortable when we stare for too long, as I am right now, as humans, as animals, as a species we werent built to look at ourselves physically, we were built to look inside ourselves from a mental perspective. I guess that could only explain at times we look into every mirror, and reection we come across because we constantly revaluate ourselves, we constantly have an idea of who we are and what we look like, seeing ourselves in the reective surface is just a way of conrming who or what we believe ourselves go be. Dont be afraid of your reection, embrace it, revaluate, and move forward

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C H A P T E R 28

Can I Live?
06/12/2010 Its an eerie night of spears, daggers and mess, theres a whole lot of bloodstains on my keypad, a whole lot of bloodstained ngerprints on the screen of my iPhone. I ask myself can I do no right tonight, damn. I feel like a punching bag swinging back and forth; everything I say, every message becomes a problem. Can I live? Perceptions, interpretations, paintings mean a whole lot when a mind is lled with the viewers own preconceived ideas. Considering experience or lack of insight, or an emotion I dunno if Im honest I could just be making this worse by writing because instead of leaving the steak uncooked in the freezer, Im marinating it. Can I live? Sometimes you gotta say what the fuck! According to the lm Risky Business starring Tom Cruise, it gives you freedom and opportunity, creating your move.

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What the fuck? Ill ask you again Can I live? Why when I just want to relax do I suffer migraines for a whole lot of bullshit. Im not antagonizing, Im not being tactical, all I ask is Can I live? Today was a good day, it was a great evening, tonight I have a migraine. Can I live? Im not even into all of this madness, Im tryna dodge these spears, daggers, and bullets heading my way like Achilles. I aint tryna get an arrow in my heel, Im not tryna get thirteen wounds by a rusty dagger from a different adversary in the guise of a friend, I aint tryna get a bullet between the eyes by an unknown assailant whilst I have my back to the door and all windows in the Burger Bar, sipping on a vanilla milkshake across the round table of Team Fox. Can I live? Ill let you answer that question because I can no longer entertain all this, Ive got to stay on my toes, only the divine knows whether I can or not. Can I Live?

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C H A P T E R 29

Through My Lenses
07/12/2010 Personal mantras, plans, meticulous calculation, bullet points, goals, milestones All of which get thrown out of the window, everything. Not really someone to write down everything in grave detail on pieces of paper nor a meticulous military plan, not that I havent but I dont, why? When everything is elaborated theres often too much detail which becomes irrelevant, yet relevant to some degree, just not relevant at that point which could be much more effective inside the mind Where am I going? I bullet point a lot, I write out summaries, nothing meticulous and in depth but a lil something quite like check points to reach because I dont believe in over elaboration, could be the main reason why I battle with academia so much Werent meant to go there but that could also be the underlying motivation to seem to want to start writing or why I have been writing. My point is, I believe in bullet points and singular words because the vision I see in my imagination is extremely vivid to put into words, Id rather paint with time and give myself something to work toward. Still not the point Im trying to make.

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Theres something bold I have up my sleeve yet theres a conict within that Im trying to nd a resolution to strike a balance. I care but I dont care, Ive done all the pagentry, the only thing cementing me is the time, thats it, everything else doesnt matter. Ive got this reel of events constantly taking place inside my head yet everyday I take a few steps Im closer to what will be, optimism. Funnily enough sometimes I get lost in the fog but I gotta stay watching my compass to navigate through all the confusion. I came up with this idea earlier, not quite an idea but a perspective, and it totally makes sense. What else totally makes sense is to realise that its time to nd an appropriate place to nish ideas, although where I found was great, it still wasnt as vivid as I wanted my pieces to be. I want people to visit my gallery and be in awe of masterpieces that inspire and change lives, not captivate them for a second but eternity. Having a vivid imagination, dreams, aspiration and a desire to explore culminate in so many monstrosity, nothing negative may I add, quite the contrary because you always believe theres so much more out there resulting in never settling for the way things are and what has always been. I believe in the theory of evolution yet I believe the power of something greater than my comprehension putting everything in motion, quite like a snowake snowballing into an avalanche. No one book nor school of thought has the right to tell me what is, I think therefore I am, I believe therefore I achieve. Im grateful that my parents were innovative in the sense that they never pushed me into anything religious; they set me on the path of faith. Theres always a distinctive difference between religion and faith in my eyes, as well as so many others. I cant accept anything thats already been written, so I teach myself, I trod on a personal path of exploration to become enlightened through signs, and guidance. I become intrigued, once intrigued Im inquisitive, once inquisitive I set out on a quest to nd answers.
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Some abide by rules set forth by society or the set of rules by the faith they call home but I grew with the notion that I and I only was ones teacher. Its great to bide time and accumulate all the resources and knowledge one can, but when its time to set out on a mission, one shall be prepared and ready to move without a second thought

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C H A P T E R 30

Dont Think, Just Feel

13/12/2010 Right now I feel like I need to push the big jug from the surface top so it falls onto the oor and breaks to let everything ow from the connes of its cell. In a bit of an indifferent mood right now, dont really know how to be, all I can do is think, how could I not remembered my fathers birthday until I looked on my phone at 0120, how could I not of remembered. Madness. If it were up to me, I would have been sleeping by now, for some reason I insist on staying awake, I insist on writing these things, I insist on trying to remember the last time I sat down and spoke to my father before he passed away. Fucked. Only god knows what I wish for every night before I rest my head to sleep, gone are the days of wanting people to read these things, or get an insight into what it is I think and feel. The end of pretense. The end of thought. The end of the road. Cross roads Take a right at go with the ow.

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Im tired of pretending like I dont feel, or acting cool, Id rather feel and trust what I feel rather than shut myself out or off, which neither makes me happy or healthy. Impulse. Is another word for inspiration, its another word for the way in which hour feelings affect all of your actions, in all honesty Im tired of thinking, over thinking, spiralling, remembering, resenting, all tributaries of thinking? Why must man think? Why did man bite the apple? Why did man want to think rather than feel? Why does man think about everything? Ive stopped thinking. Ive started feeling. Ive started moving. Fueled by my feelings I shall explore the cosmos. Revert to the clusters beyond our comprehension simply because it represents there being no form of limitation, it represents innity. Zzz

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C H A P T E R 31

The Legend Of Papa Shango

14/12/2010 I can feel you tonight, my trains of thought have evoked your spirit from the moment I arose to greet a new day. The moment I stepped through my front door I felt your presence, I felt a part of you leave with my sister and niece, a piece with my mother, and I know a piece of you is with Abs. How do I know? I can feel you here, in my box, the same box that when I began to complain, you and mother told me tales of Sheik Nazeem in the same connes where hed study the Quran amd Haddiths all waking hours, I feel you here in the place I dub my padded cell, with writing scrawled with so many words which subconsciously seep into me and inuence all activity. Where am I? Well, I can see you in a few places right now. At the end of my bed, rolling a spliff of the natural mystic on the redman and method man how high sleeve where Id roll so many of my sneak bedtime spliffs on, standing in
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the corner reading every inscription on my wall and discussing my reasons for reading and writing, even telling me what you see as the outsider looking in. I see you, I feel you, I know youre here. I can hear your voice over all the Art Blakey, yes I listen to that CD you gave me on my iPod all the time, I even write some of my most intimate thoughts to that music. I wish. For what its worth youre here with me when I write most things and at this present moment it would be a crime to say that you arent here listening along, sitting on the far corner of my bed blowing the natural mystic in the air, assessing my progress over the last year and period youve been travelling other dimensions. I wonder how you can be in so many different places at once and so rapidly, you say its down to being ethereal rather than corporeal, I say youre free to explore, but hey, who am I to argue? I havent transcended and crossed over onto the other side yet. When I think about you I get kinda down about it but youre always like, a weh some guy feel like? Thats always like a slap in the face telling me to be thankful that I have memories and plenty of exploring to do before I cross over as life is but a journey Certain times I sit and stare at that pocket Quran you got me as a gift, it sits in the top draw at the back whilst the big one is still on the same bedsheet in the highest point in the house, the only thing that gets to me is the fact that I gave away the Ethiopian Black Jesus portrait, well technically it sits in Kams house on the wall but I have plans to return it to its right place, the headquarters for all family activity. I dont celebrate Christmas but Ill ask if it can be returned here as a Christmas present, bless the house again

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I guess this is strictly for those who lost someone as dear to them as my father was to me and everyone he met, theres plenty of people that have lost apart of themselves in losing someone else, but that doesnt mean you dont gain an angel, your own personal intermediary with the divine, someone to plead and help you make decisions. No matter how hard many people try to distract you from the path of righteousness with a net of negativity, your guardian will always be there to aide you in your time of need, as a soldier for good. All bad choices arent necessarily bad or lead to a negative, one has to remember that all choices lead to your destiny. Sure you can steer the ship but you have to navigate by way of the stars, winds, volatile and unpredictable waters can lead you anywhere. Sometimes you may feel like your on a road to nowhere but be optimistic and know that all roads lead somewhere, no road is ever a dead end, keep ploughing forwards, do whatever it takes to progress, no matter what your circumstance. I aint someone with all the answers but many of these mantras are down to my parentage, my peers, my role models, my siblings, my friends, my observations Life is always what you make of it so if you dont like the way its being done, switch lanes and do it your way. Build your own lane. Create the world you see as prefect by building and aligning yourself with positive people on your wavelength, energy works on a like for like basis so if you pour love into the world youll always get it back, you hold back youll gain nothing. Be fearless and carefree. Be creative. Let your feelings drive all activity. Thinking leads to over thinking.

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Do as you wish under the eyes of the divine, as the divine is the only one who can pass judgment on anybody. On a real never be afraid to be yourself, thats what makes the world go round, ideas, and action. Thats what my parents told me

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C H A P T E R 32

Portals
15/12/2010 I cant front like writing all these blogs are not just another outlet for all my fears and anxieties. Im not exactly a writer, Im not exactly studious, Im not exactly someone who is musically inclined but I just like to express myself in many shapes and forms. Im just an explorer. Wondering why does it take a dictionary to make my whole life and whats taken place into perspective. You can spend years using words that dene who you are and how you live life until you change, you end all pretence and realise that the words you once used so frivolously need to be erased from your vocabulary. You can go on for so long living in a glass house, full of mirrors, not knowing that it is not anyone else but you who are and always was the problem all along. You cant have the audacity to point the nger at anyone else because you failed to listen and take what they were saying seriously, you were the one who forced her to open up, oblivious to what she did not wish to share with someone who was far from ready to begin to understand. No matter how hard you think you tried, you still stood guarded, stubborn and selsh, on your high horse of ideals, spiralled into the pitfalls of isolation, letting all your published self absorbed nonsense push the dagger even deeper into the core of the onion, why did you do that, how could you break the heart and self esteem of the one person who ever

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loved you, the one person who you loved, the only person you had been in something serious with, how could you? The person you thought you were and how you seemed to everyone else was a mirage, shattered by your own selsh, oblivious actions. You werent the man of anyone dreams, you were a wolf in disguise, you were a monster in a dainty costume, you were a cunning gentleman who let his ideals get the better of his realism. You disgust me. Where do you stand, what do you stand to gain after all of this? You gain nothing, youre back to being alone, youve already started to build the walls you once demolished, youre already considering becoming guarded to protect yourself and others from the wrath of your own destructive and volatile core. You can no longer tame the beast. You have no one to blame except yourself, I hope youre happy because youve lost her forever. Be honest to yourself, go outside of yourself and have a cry, lock yourself in your paddled cell and write odes to her, as if she had passed over, mourn her, she was the love of your life but gone. If you regret your actions, its safe to say youre extremely remorseful because it werent meant to be that way, never ever but it turnt out like this. Times like this I wish I had a spaceship and a time machine, I dont know which one Ill board but I hope whichever one it is I nd the happiness I experienced with you.

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C H A P T E R 33

Life In Transit
25/12/2010 The year approaches an end, all I can do is evaluate and dream of what the next year is gonna bring. 2010 was epic in so many ways, it was creative, inspirational, and full of adventure.In hindsight I had the time of my life because I did so much stuff that I thought Id never do and then some. I experienced rst hand how satisfying it is when you become comfortable inside your own skin, condent, and how it is when the person who was once inside my head is the same and one person everyone sees. Sure Im still multifaceted as Im into so much things, but still Im the one person everyone knows, Im no longer scared to just be myself. 2010 is the year I returned to music, its the year I started writing again, also the year I got my rst tatt which was an amalgamation of my progress throughout my many years of journeying to the place I got to. It was a great year.

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2010 was the year I fell into the stars, I swam in the ocean of love, realised I was the last romantic, started wearing whatever I wanted, met and aligned myself with great people, discovered some great music, produced what would be the start of something not only therapeutic and life changing, it also immortalised a stillness in time. 2010 was a great year. 2011? Music, travel, poetry, memoirs Still image, moving image Memories and a legacy. Progress, positivity, momentum, forward thinking. Creativity. Completion. 2010 was great, 2011 will be greater. Im on a mission. Spread my wings. Fire up the spaceship. Stars and the vast darkness awaiting to be illuminated. Peace, Love, Faith, Prosperity I feel like Im on a journey On the move Life In Transit.

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C H A P T E R 34

A Paradox Of Privacy
06/01/2011 It feels like I spend so much time writing that Im beginning to run out of places to chill, where absolutely no soul in the world could possibly read anything. Theres times I wish some of my favorite places werent in the public domain, or fed into public places because much of the time when I post new material I feel vulnerable. I keep telling myself that no one reads what I write because there are no signs of visitors, except the counter and the occasional like, here and there. I get perplexed because what I write is my most personal thoughts and feelings. I also nd it scary that people who I interact with and see near enough a signicant amount of the time, could be reading and knowing some of my inner most thoughts and feelings, yet we have never spoken past a smile, small conversation, or light social gesture for acknowledgement. Weird or Scary? Its a paradox because I write to alleviate my mind of mental baggage, yet I nd it difcult to talk about these things, or better yet, I can never seem to put whatever I write into spoken words.
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I like to have my own space and a certain amount of privacy, yet I write my deepest, innermost, personal thoughts for all to read. This is not adding up. Its a catch 22 because if I stop writing, the baggage consumes me, yet if I continue to write and publish my work, in the public domain, I occasionally get paranoid, as I have no private place to send these trains of thought. Youre probably reading this and thinking to yourself:

Why not just create an address whereby you write and no one else knows about it apart from yourself?

The answer is a simple one. Extremely simple Whats the point of me alleviating my mental, emotional, and astral trains of thought into isolation when they are packaged so elaborately, with all the allegory which wraps the fact that it could seem as if I speak of nothing upon the surface but beneath all the cosmetics the true recipient of my letter can understand what it is I am trying to tell them? These are nothing but elaborate love letters after all. I also believe that from day one, when I discovered I could write, people used to read and tell me I had a gift which then became a gift from the divine, because I didnt learn this in any classroom, I was not taught how to do any of this, I simply began to write my thoughts and feelings down.
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I myself dont think of it being anything other than me writing words, an outlet to my feelings and observations, it is others not I who deem this a gift, bestow titles such as writer upon me, I just write. End of. Things such as titles, recognition, accolades, and the glory do not phase me, nor provide fuel to motivate me to start writing, I just write what I feel, what I see, and somehow whilst writing I come to a solution of sorts while letting the train of thought run upon the track into innity, until it suddenly comes to halt, whereby it lets the passengers off to venture into the cosmos, allowing the train to return to the station until its next run the following day. Im no one special, never claim to be, dont aspire to be anyone special. I write. Its a paradox of privacy, but I continue to post all of which I write, because I believe that you get back what you put out. Each time I publish another piece of work, I exercise my ability to improve and experiment. Nothing becomes stale, all remains fresh as I write and publish events in real time. My writing is a direct reection of the current events in my galaxy, its a means to tell the brightest star in my cluster how I feel, how much I appreciate the presence and company of the many planets, asteroid fragments and birth of new planets, ideas and inspiration. I write in allegory because its a direct reection of my appreciation for the divine, nature, and all things unknown for no question is ever answerable, each step of progres-

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sion opens up doors, quite like life, its my way of giving thanks for being blessed with an inquisitive mind to question who I am and why I am here, and what my purpose is. I am no one special, this is no gift, its simply my way of therapy. Theses are my prayers to the most high, who gives me answers the more I ask questions, the more I dig deeper into myself, the more I spiral into my soul, the more steps I take towards alleviating myself from all trivial emotions and insignicant baggage. Writing is my state of serenity. If I dont write, if I dont alleviate my baggage, if I dont allow these trains of thought to roam free, I perish, I diminish, I lose myself under dark clouds, I spiral into darkness. Im no one special, this is no gift, I was not taught how to write, I wrote and experimented with counselling myself, I experimenting with an alternative form of therapy. I found the divine and continue to seek and contact the divine through delving inside myself, through listening to the voice that whispers inside my ear, my conscience, my angels, my demons, my spirals, my spirits, the signs, the intuition, my instincts. Im getting closer, I can feel it. This is nothing special, this is nothing divine, this is nothing but words, this is nothing but documentation, this is me trying to understand my existence, my emotions, my circumstances, this is nothing but me trying to make sense of life.

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This is nothing but me crying out for the most high, these words are tears from my heart, from my soul. These words are the very thing which cause me to feel as if I am suspended high above the very bed I lay, as I oat upon the energy of the divine. These words are a consumption of astral energies. This is my prayer. This is nothing but a diary whereby the words attempt to paint emotions as allegory. You can see the portrait when you visit my gallery to either admire and to make sense of what is taking place in my life as well as your own. This is nothing in comparison to any other, Im superior nor inferior, I just tell the story of me, the story is in my language, nothing censored, I bare all as hues. Vivid in all astral spectrum, chatoyant, iridescent, color. This is nothing special, this is something that none of you are supposed to understand nor relate to, unless you have been walking in my shoes, strolled hand in hand on the same path for a few miles, or simply met me along the way and chose to accompany me en route to my destiny for some of the journey before parting at the end of the parallel road. This is nothing special, I am nothing but a man currently at the end of the rst quarter of the beginning of the present quarter of my rst century walking this earth. I am no one. Am I human?

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Is this the prequel to the beginning of the second quarter of the start of the second quarter century, as I become one step closer to my spaceship with every passing day? Who knows? A paradox of privacy? Indeed, although outside of a pair of people including me, I doubt youll ever understand. No superiority nor inferiority, just a different language, culture, customs, ideology, an all together vision of abstraction and subversive socialisation. Salutations Peace Love Prosperity

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C H A P T E R 35

The Cluster Of Seven

15/01/2011 I start work in 6hrs and Im still awake, writing How and why is this possible, I really should be asleep? Maybe its the excitement of the days event, yes writing a dissertation in Harrow library, or the fact that the moon was out, and Deuce pointed out Orions belt in the dark night sky. Im feeling great, the world is great, Im optimistic, theres natural disasters and tragedies taking place around the globe but tonight and today was special, something in the stars, something in the 7 cluster perhaps where theres two stars, shining brighter than 7 nebulas, 7 suns covered in neutrinos omitting solar radiation through the universe. Two stars who dwell in the never regions of outer space, whose ames are lit for each other to light up the night sky for all to admire, yes the star crossed lovers in a cluster of their own, stood still in the midst of interplanetary, galactic madness. Intrepid to say the least, these stars were born at opposite ends of the galaxy, the universe, the innite polarities of the cosmos, whose particles slowly found each other through several light times, not lifetimes, light times.

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Many nebulas, many births of galaxies, the start and end of suns, where red dwarfs burn out to white dwarfs shrinking to swallow up all surrounding particles to rebirth again. These stars travelled parallel at opposite polarities of the universe, missing each other in collision courses throughout. These particles, these fragments of periodic elements, these fragments of the inexplicable came to nd each other, to shine in the same cluster, side by side supporting each other. When one begins to dim the phoenix offers a torch, when one begins to lose all will to shine, the other steps in and offers a spark of light. The stars are a clusters survival, the clusters progression, growth, and offspring. Stars give birth to stars surrounded by planets each orbited by moons, asteroid belts that protect group of cluster of stars from negative particles, and intruders. Interplanetary allegory Faith-Love-Compassion-Peace-Prosperity

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C H A P T E R 36

Unread - #2: Levels

16/01/2011 Now tell me what it is that they, them, me, or I never seem to understand. What is it which they seem to know which we know not until it has come to pass, why are we all the last to know, is it based on selective ltration? Can you please tell me whether I am making sense or whether this is all sweeping over your head like the wind, the cool breeze which is always so refreshing on those hot days when everything seems to just sit still in the air, stale dust and dirt particles ever ready to cling to your lung tissue as if it were that of the passive smoke of someones cigarette in a conned space, no more spacey than a call box. Passive smoke, inhalation of the thin paper which keeps the shreds of dried tobacco coated with god knows what, attached to a lter to somehow extract the tar and harsh chemicals sprayed upon the to account and thin paper tube coating to ensure it stays burning. Why do cigarettes stay burning unlike their cousins; spliff, blunt, cigar? What is it about the cigarette that allows it to stay burning against all odds, its as if the wind that relives you of the stale humidity on hot summer days is the same wind that if youre not careful will suck the life and soul out of your cigarette before you know it? How is this possible, is it even relevant to anyone?
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Allegory, analogy, literal, metaphoric, oxymoronic? Theres no denite point to this in reality, just a wild train of thought which has taken my writing session for a joyride as I wonder why that needed to be justied as it naturally takes the spontaneity out of reading such a path of irrelevant relevant allegory. I wonder what it is Im getting at or what Im trying to say underneath all of my need to mention and go into detail about the path of the wind against my cigarette. Do I smoke, am I even a smoker? Thats probably the greatest question next to identity and being put into a box; am I black, am I from London, are my parents Jamaican, am I British, do I speak English, am I a writer, do I blog, do I rap, do I create, am I alive? All the above put us into boxes. I read something earlier;

When you state yourself to be something you ultimately detach yourself from the rest of humanity.

I read the quote subjectively and could instantly relate. I mean who am I to declare myself as something which somehow detaches me from humanity? I instantly was going to say something such as:

Were all different, but we are all human.

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As generic as that sounds, maybe its correct but its still a statement which detaches you from humanity. Ill pose that statement again, this time in the midst of this ocean of grammar

Who am I to detach myself from the rest of humanity?

If you subtract the last eight words you are left with the core of the question:

Who am I?

This question has been unanswered since the dawn of time, many have given answers no matter how elaborate but fail to answer the question.

Who am I?

So many philosophers, thinkers, and prophets have tried to answer the question often leading to another question but have failed to see the simplest answer lay in one, two letter word. Ill pose the question again

Who am I?

I will answer

Me.

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Nothing intricate, every bit simple, the answer is oxymoronic. Upon closer inspection theres so many intricacies. Surface Depth. What do I mean by surface depth? A ower petal is beauty on the surface, you see the colours, feel the texture and realise that its a ower petal, you know its a ower petal, if someone asks you what is a ower petal or what the thing is you can point to the object and say ower petal. When you look closer you see what makes up the ower petal, you see what the purpose of the ower petal is, its inner workings and its relevance. My point is that a ower petal is simply a ower petal on some levels but many more things in depth. The ower petal is not one dimensional, theres so many functions, characteristics which make the ower petal what it is Assume the rationale to yourself now.

Who am I?

Me.

Simple right? Then follows the purpose of you, the characteristics of what make you, everything beneath outside and beyond

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Nothing is one dimentional, nothing is simple, theres always an opposite polarity, then alternatives, hyperreal, surreal, ethereal, corporeal There are innite levels to everything, remember that. Peace and Prosperity

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C H A P T E R 37

Transfixed
19/01/2011 Concentration seems to elude me at every turn... What can one do when ones mind is elsewhere, transxed with thoughts of another? Im held captive by your silhouette, every time I close my eyes. In the blink of an eye, your silhouette dissolves to reveal your face, where those majestic eyes are gleaming as they reect the light of a porcelain full moon. As I run the palm of my hand against your smooth skin, I feel the heat rising from the core of your heart, heating up my cold shell as I attempt to snuggle closer to connect with you. I wish it were more than a passing moment in my imagination, I actually wish I could close my eyes and not wake up, until that dream became a reality, until the car arrived at its destination, until the ship set anchor in the harbour, until the aeroplane wheels screeched, after its descent from the heavens, before hitting the scorching tarmac which shimmer under the heat of the sun. I sit here transxed, consumed by all and any means. Transxed by you.

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One shall not eat nor drink unless its a humble slice of your love, or a humble cup of your freshly squeezed romance. One shall dwell on the sand in protest, awaiting the day one can bask in your pool of love under the watchful gaze of the heavens above. One is transxed, consumed by a dream, A dream to be with you. Outside of my imagination the feeling always remains, covering me, wrapped around me like an astral blanket, keeping me warm inside a protective force eld. Im cold without you. Im lonely, afraid, and alone, for one half of my heart goes when you depart. When I open my eyes to see dreams dissolve into the thin air of actuality, I become heartbroken. In actuality one will have to wait days to have you in my arms again You are the destination on the map where all roads lead, where all trains of thought journey towards. You are the coordinates, which my heart and head seem to know all too well. You are the star I gravitate towards; the shell takes steps whilst my soul navigates the route of my pursuit, keeping track on all logistics and change in course. Is there anything more signicant in this humble existence of mine than to be in pursuit of a humble spirit such as yourself ? Is there more to this humble existence of mine than to write ode after ode in celebration of your very presence on this earth?

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Are we outside of the hourglass in a stillness of time unto ourselves where nothing else outside of our island matters once there? These questions seem to answer themselves, they dont seem to be questions at all, they are merely statements of belief and common consensus, but rather me stating rather admittedly that before you I knew no purpose, after you there shall be nothing, with you is where the world exists. You amputated my wings that were shattered, repaired my muscles, and nurtured my heart so I could grow a new set, before you taught me how to y once they had grown. I stand on the edge of my existence facing the unknown, ready to y, ready to soar through the skies with the phoenix who rises from the never regions of universe, beyond the cluster of seven stars, its surrounding galaxies and portals into alternate existence. I shall y on the wings of faith, free as you are, free as I glare into your eyes inside my daydream, admiring the twinkles from your soul, registering every pixel for remembrance in the instances of the dreaded nights where I lay in a cold room alone. Your spirit, your aura, your faith, your beauty, your intelligence... Im transxed.

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Am I The Only One?

29/01/2011 Theres always a reason behind the reality, always the signied, which follows the signier, and the sign, which makes itself synonymous upon further reection, either that or the symbolism reveals itself. Who am I to assume that A is the rst letter of the alphabet when I see not the hyphen before the following Z, or the second and third letters? The sign equates to the signier along with the signied, this is the power of a sign. A sign of the times, or the long hand of the clock travelling clockwise in the circle for three hundred and sixty degrees, a short hand travelling for a fraction of the long hand, or the third not necessarily less important slim hand travelling in a circle at a rate of the short hand multiplied by the long hand? Follow? Sign=Signier+Signied

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The equation that underpins everything, all communication, all the levels that require us to come to some common understanding, not necessarily pertaining to the big things but the subtle things. Youd be surprised how much you pick up from speech, body language, and tone of voice, all of which culminate in revealing a persons energy because they paint a picture that become more than the words. Words dont matter, you cant exactly read the words as they come out of someones mouth, one can only read tones, and all the subtle strokes, which adorn the canvas with a variety of hues. Everything adds up. Sign=signier+signied No deceptions, misinterpretations, or cross contamination, signs adorn the body like a canvas, always unaware whilst painting, only the one on the outside of ones eye can visualise the picture. We paint as surrealists, unaware of the signs we transmit, quite like the surrealist art movement in the context that we create uncensored from the unconscious mind. Never unaware of the microscopic holes in the fabric, which allow you to breathe inside your garments, never unaware of dishonesty, reading the pictures painted with hues of signiers and the signied to assimilate into a sign. A sign for sore eyes.

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The signied contrary to your words, the tone, the choice of metaphors. Pretence? Do you not see? Look through the binoculars, rewind the footage, and replay. Surely I cant be the only one. Surely others have noticed all the nonsense, I cant be the only one or an I the only one? Sign=Signier+Signied

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My Sentiment Exactly
01/02/2011 Seems like you listen to a song over and over on different occasions until theres one occasion above all that aligns your sentiment with that of the song. Not only are you aligned with the song lyrics, the melody and rhythm, you align yourself with the same sentiment, the same state of mind the creator had at the time of creation, the same emotion running through the creators body, the exact same reactionary sentiment which was a culmination of all trains of allegory, all the trains that you frivolously sent to your subconscious, all the same sentiments, just as the song, which you failed to recognise. My sentiment exactly. How surreal does it feel when the same songs youve listened to in the same playlist for nearly a year, all address your sentiment, on some level or a next? How do you not notice, how do you walk obliviously from A to Z listening to these songs of this particular sentiment, and not realise until mid afternoon on the last day of the rst month of the decade? My sentiment exactly.

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The same sentiment where you realise that its time for the playlist to be disbanded in favour of a new collection of music with a totally different sentiment. My sentiment exactly. Discover the sentiment of your playlist somewhere along the line whilst adding brand new songs, rhythms, lyrics, and chords. Make your playlist a blank canvas where memories can manifest out of the remembrance of moments shared whilst listening to different songs? My sentiment exactly. I guess Im worth more than a guilty pleasure, Im a sentiment worth celebrating, a sentiment worth shouting from the rooftops, a sentiment worth ghting for, a sentiment worth more than a rendezvous here and there on a whim, my sentiment is priceless and one to be cherished indenitely. My sentiment exactly. Gone is the secrecy, gone are the akes of romance disposed of at every indifferent opportunity, gone are the white lies, the cover ups, the missed opportunities, the dreams that seem to never materialise, gone is feeling second place to a past sentiment, gone are the sleepless nights, gone are all the hours under the sun I spent in your temple worshipping your statue awaiting your sudden appearance, gone are the sentiments I made excuses for your absence, gone are the mechanics built inside my mind to instantly shut off the feeling of continued disappointment every time you chose to prolong or cancel our departure. My sentiment exactly.
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I cant stay asleep in my dreams forever, I cant live in my fantasies forever, theres always a moment where the alarm clock of actuality doesnt allow you to snooze and you wake up not knowing where the past went. My sentiment exactly. You wake up wondering why you have no memories, moments, reminders, you wonder why theres nothing tangible marking your sentiment. Why does this sentiment, stillness in time, fail to be ofcial? Why does this sentiment make me feel like an unofcial secret every time I look at the sentiment with an outside eye? Why does this sentiment make me feel as if Ive waltz through the playlist covered in a shroud of delusion? Did I fail to see what others see, was I blinded, deluded by my own desires, did I seduce myself into thinking there was a sentiment of great magnitude rather than someones secret paddling pool? My sentiment exactly. Often I trawl back through the events in my mind and realise it was all a dream, it was all in my head. I awoke to discover that the lines between dream and reality were blurred at a magnication beyond all comprehension. Everywhere I walk, I see a reminder of the harsh reality, in lms, in songs, they all paint not the sentiment of my fantasy but the dry arid sentiment I had been oblivious.

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My sentiment exactly. All the questions I pushed to the back of my mind seem to resurface with all the answers, accurate answers, alarming answers, answers that feel like cold sentiments splashing over my face whilst I lay tranquil in the deepest sleep, sentiments which have forced me to wake up. As much as I dislike the cold, dark, actuality, theres nothing I can do but move on. Ive got to get past all of these ancient, fragmented, sentiments. Ive got to distinguish what is actual rather than inception, hyperreal, surreal and distorted in order separate them from actuality, only then will I be free. My sentiment exactly.

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If You Were Me
04/02/2011 If you saw what I see would you feel the same as me, would you act upon seeing not believing what they teach? If you lived the same as me would you be the way I be, would you interpret a situation to decide what outcomes may be? If you thought the same as me would you move as if you were me, would you feel as if you dreaming could evade the life you lead? If you lived the way I lived not relating to other kids, would lock yourself away writing words every part hour of your week? If you dreamed the way I dreamed and your life was memoirs and themes, would you endure all the nightmares because you looked to the days that were sweet? If you wrote the way that I wrote would what you wrote be just to cope, with ups and downs, spiralling and spinning round, hitting dizzying heights, ying around, to falling in love then hitting the ground?

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If you was the way that I was would you believe in and pray to God, would you disregard all religion but maintain faith rather than belief systems? If you believed in what I believe its only then you will see, what I do and why I do it, youll understand because youve been through it. Stay open to it, its in the stars, keep your head up, your dreams are never far If you were me would you give up on your dream, or connect the dots to arrive at your vision eventually?

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Connecting Dots
04/02/2011 Not that I dont believe in stuff, Ive lived it. Its no longer a dream, my dreams have become my actuality eventually to become my vision. That vision I see when I close my eyes, when I write, when I move, when I think and feel. Thats why I connect the dots, thats why I have faith, thats why I listen to the voice, the silent whispers and assemble my tools. The same reason why I pour so much energy into my dreams, desires, and creativity, Im inspired. I cant call or understand why or where this energy, thoughts or directions come from but I know that the more I follow equates to my happiness. Some may call it destiny or fate, I call it connecting the dots, always looking at the stars, holding my head high in the stars even on the darkest, cloudy of days because thats where its written, its all in the stars. If my head aint in the skies Im walking blimey towards my destiny, guided by the light I cant see but the light I feel, leaving trails of inspiration, trains of inspiration which I ride throughout my adventures which lead me to the promised land. The Promised Land: being happiness, a place where Im serene, no worries, just peace and love. All I can is master and utilise the tools I have assembled, whilst the universe connects the dots. Its always important that I remind myself to take things one step at a time by building each brick to perfection from one point of focus.

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Channel the right energy into your vision and the each brick you lay will become a solid foundation for a city, imagine your own universe of activity start with one idea which sprouted into a big oak tree. Apply this analogy to your rst brick, which seemed insignicant at rst, turning in a continent of activity. Patience is paramount, but that doesnt mean you should not be decisive. Keep your eyes and ears open for opportunities, signs and messages. (Thats what the voice just told me)

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C H A P T E R 42

Where Would You Be?

05/02/2011 Ive been asking everyone the same question all week: If you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would you be? Some based their answer on hindsight, quite a majority of the few I had asked but a great number forecasted future events, me included. I had no idea whether I wanted to be on a secluded desert island with someone or all alone, I couldnt decide whether I wanted to be on a mountain or a prairie, in a cold or hot place, but what I did know was that it had to be somewhere far removed from a city, far removed from anywhere which resembled a city in the slightest, far removed from anywhere populated by anyone because I needed a place where I could just meditate, no interruptions. I have no idea where and when, I dont know how long I planned to travel for, but I know that the place in which I gave the answer was one where I could always be humbled by natural splendour, humbled by all the wonders of the earth when I stand on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere to realise that I am nothing in comparison

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to the height of the mountain but signicant to the universe nonetheless as my actions contribute the cycle of positivity, cause and effect. Its quite weird when you put your existence into such perspectives, its weird when you realise that everyone on earth, in space, in the whole of existence is equal to each other. Size, hue, features, role, and titles all mean nothing, the only thing that matters is your personal contribution, positive or negative, your contribution is all that matters. So even if you sit and do nothing, you contribute because you breathe, you sit out whilst others take advantage of the opportunities which were pre destined for you. Moral of the story, never be afraid of who you are, what you are and whatever you want to be. Have faith and embrace it.

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Reflection Perception
13/02/2011 Winding through the spiral of life leads you in so many directions. You nd yourself learning something new everyday, you meet the consequences of all your actions, no matter how miniature, and you learn to keep moving forward. The best thing to realise about life is that we never make mistakes, we learn, we are constantly evolving. Sometimes scenarios repeat themselves in multiple circumstances but its up to you to decide the course of action. This may be that you choose the same lane which leads to the same position you were before making your move, or you pick the lane less travelled, elevating you on the path of progress. We were all blessed with the freedom of making choices, each choice leading to a circumstance we must come face to face and deal with, its only then that we can progress. Its so easy much of the time to avoid and cower from our problems, to avoid conict, its much simpler when you face a problem head on. Theres no point comparing your state of circumstance to anyone else, because everyone has different things to deal with at different magnitudes. Best thing for you to do is focus on what youre doing rather than compare and observe anyone else.

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Im not the wisest, nor most intelligent, pious, spiritual, sensible, Im not a perfect person, Im awed as everyone else is but I do believe that the more choices you make is the more insightful you become, and with insight comes the power of foresight-the power to forsee events by connecting the dots before making your move. Im comfortable, ambitious but comfortable with the knowledge that I must do things one step at a time. I cant just jump from A to Z, theres 24 letters in between the alpha and omega, each having a new lesson to be learned, a new degree of knowledge gained en route to becoming a sphere-the true representation of being multidimensional Who am I to speak on such things anyway, Im nobody special, I know nothing of these things. Im a humble observer.

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Ideal Idea Ingredients

13/02/2011 A new idea is like the birth of a child, once conceived you have to bury that idea with energy, positive and determined energy. Youve got to care for that idea so you envision it, once envisioned in all its vivid splendor, you must work on making that idea develop, so it can blossom. The time between the ideas conception and harvest is the most difcult, because you have to ensure you feed your idea the right nutrients. There can never be any articial additives because this can contaminate your idea, forcing it to mutate into something deviant, resulting in you returning to the ideas conception to start the process from scratch Treat your idea like a plant, like a child, like something that needs the most meticulous of care and attention, otherwise your idea will fail to develop, it will always remain a good idea.' Important thing to remember is that ideas dont materialise overnight, like children and plants, they need to be nurtured one moment at a time. I apply this everyday At least I try to hence the pep talk Ive just given myself.

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Lessons In Love
14/02/2011 I dont get why so many people dislike Valentine's Day. Im probably the only singleton who has always admired a day dedicated to romance. As far back as I can remember Ive never had a successful one, no matter who Ive been seeing, its either ended before or started after valentines. That has never stopped me from loving the day itself as Im a romantic at heart, a softy who waltzes through life toe to toe with romance, falling in love with the beauty of life and its experiences. Although valentines lasts for twenty-four hours, romance itself is a continual thing, you can never love someone too much, nor give them enough love and affection. For someone to even think that way shows their lack of knowledge and their ignorance to their partner, their ignorance to life itself. Romance is the seed from which love blossoms, love can only blossom once the plant of love has been nurtured and fed the right nutrients. In order for your love to prevail, one has to become a farmer cultivating crops, because your attention and every affection, not forgetting compassion, care and consideration will ensure that your love grows into something long lasting and strong.

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I rmly believe that love, true love, doesnt come around that often, if even ever, so when you discover that moment, that stillness in time, embrace it while it lasts because that moment can dissolve at any time. Never be afraid. Some may denounce and deny love after a stillness in time but thats the head doing what it does best, putting your physical at ease to convince the body that it doesnt need the love it yearns for. The proof is in the butteries. The proof is in the gravitation. The proof is in the warmth. The proof is in the feeling. The proof is in the emotion. Think of all those times when you were apart from the one you yearned for, how did that make you feel? How do you feel when you see them, after not seeing them for weeks on end? How does it feel when they refer to you by that name, that special name that only your sweetheart can call you? Dont ask, just feel. Never be afraid. To love someone is not to keep them conned to a cage, to love someone is to allow them to y whilst admiring their beauty whilst ying together. A friend told me that:
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All beautiful birds are kept in cages.

Thats a false statement in my eyes because you cant possibly cage a phoenix, you cant cage an angel. Love is not prison, its admiring and celebrating someones individualism and intelligence to move independently. Love is you. Love is me. Love is us. Love is we. No them, but us. We could be galaxies apart but those Team 7 high tops in the midst of my heart cant be lled. No one shall enter your wardrobe, attempt to wear nor remove your clothes. Ever. Thats love. Passion. Inspiration. Creativity. Support. Empowerment. Equilibrium.

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The energy must and always will ow both ways. Thats love. I believed that romance was for moments and love is for a lifetime, but I realised that you can love in a short frame of time but love forever even after that moment has passed. Love is youthful, love hurts too Cupid, the child with wings with a sack full of sharp arrows. Love immortalizes itself within us all, when its true you know it, if its lust it glitters Peace and Love Happy Valentines <3

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The Art Of Timing

14/02/2011 Its always tough knowing that you never really complete anything you start because theres always room for improvement, no one ever masters anything. That said, I believe that the mastering is in the timing. If you become a master of time and decisiveness you ultimately become the champion of your chosen eld, point of focus. As creatives we always seek perfection at our own detriment, why, because none of us are a divine entitity, therefore nothing can be completed to perfection because there will always be things that we wish we would have added or had time to do. Once we master art of time we make ourselves more powerful than ever. We should always remember that as much as time seems to run out, its also in abundance, therefore theres never any reason why one must rush rst. Things never happen before their appointed time nor alignment, so whilst waiting patiently always work on assembling your tools because when its your time to move you can be connected instantly. As much as Ive put an emphasis on not rushing and patiently awaiting the appointed time by making the necessary preparations, its always important to remember that time is precious, to master the art of time means never to waste it. If whatever youre
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doing at any point does not directly relate to something progressive, youre wasting time. The above statement about time may seem loose in retrospect but delve beneath it for a moment; if you are not thinking about what you want to do nor gaining an experience valuable to what you want to do, youre wasting it. Whether youre doing something youd rather not or stationary somewhere, meditate on your plans, keep the cycle going. Being the master of time is about juggling time to your own advances, its got as much to do with punctuality as it has to do with being outside of the hourglass, allowing the universe to bend to time for you. I havent mastered time but I listen to the universe when it speaks, I allow myself to be guided by the stars, I read them and walk amongst the clusters every night. Ive mastered the art of being comfortable with my spirit, my soul, my being, my creativity and my vision. Time to me is something where there is never enough but so much of. It makes no sense in rushing, it makes sense to walk at your own pace assembling your tools so when the stars are aligned you can be connected. Always nd peace within and externally so when the universe whispers, you recieve the message without distortions. Nothing is ever enough but if you master the art of timing you become successful in progressing onto the next task.

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Outside Looking In
28/02/2011 I guess sometimes no matter how hard you try to forget you dont want to be reminded. You mourn the pending loss of someone yet you seem to deny the fact that youre mourning a broken empty shell, the hole in your heart getting bigger with each day you drift apart. You have no idea whatsoever why sad, lonely, and ill, you dont know why you feel like this. Youre in a small dark room, curled up on top of your duvet wondering why this grey cloud has descended ontop of your mood, theres no point playing the role of oblivious, you know why, its the anticipation, you already assume the worst. Is it truely the worst, what is the worst that could happen, hasnt the worst already happened because the anticipation is nearly at an end. In your heart of hearts you knew what time it was, what its always been, how it happened. Your instincts arent silly, you shouldnt ever deny your intuition when you pick up on something because that alone speaks magnitudes, especially reactions.

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Are the questions posed really relevant when you already know the answers, is it more the case of you wanting to hear whats being said? The thing is, you dont give yourself enough credit, youd rather get anxious, nervous, youd rather not be cool in the face of the inevitable, why is that, because you care right, because youd hate to lose something so great right, because youd rather selshly have something so great to yourself. You know whats right, you also know whats real, you know more than anything that sometimes in life you have to make sacrices to progress. Why would you want your selshness to tarnish the legacy youve built, I guess you dont want to settle for the memoirs of a great adventure because you want to live it, you want it all, but at which cost? You can repair a heart in tatters, you cant repair trust, esteem, respect, condence. If you fail what hope does the future of humanity have? Theres no way in the world that youll ever be able to be the reverse of what you started as, kidding right, really? As much as youd like to think you will, it wont ever be that way because elements were built to react, some elements main purpose is to coexist as reactives to each other. The catch 22 is that shes the only element youll ever respect, care for, consider, drop everything to rescue, shes the only one who youd love to be around all the time if you could be. You know you arent the most stable being in existence, and as much as you both know this, it breaks your heart that you cant defend yourself when the conversation arises, you know that she means the stars to you but you cant assure her that youll always be there.

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Youre an alien, youve got a spaceship, you love to travel, youve never been on a planet this long or travelled with and returned to be with her as you love her planet. Be honest with yourself, you refuse to make a promise you cant keep, you dont want to end up hurting someone who means more than words or feelings can describe, you dont want to see her end up with any clowns either, you dont want her to nd another you, a you 2.0, you dont want to spend the rest of your lifetimes trying to locate her coordinates, ideally youd love to set up home on her planet and create a universe of activity. Life is such that people grow and evolve, so if shes ready to move on to other places, its not your place to hold her to ransom nor second guess her decision when you felt it yourself, you know what you felt that night, dont take your intuition lightly. So what happens now, only 7.5hrs until you nd out Sleep well

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Tsunami In My Brain
12/03/2011 Something never change, others evolve, many things become stagnant but the little things remain. Youd always remain whilst your environment will change Could be mental, spiritual, or physical but youd always be the same person youve always been, beneath all the layers, behind the walls, beyond the distance, youd always be you. Running parallel from one polarity to the other trying to nd a solution to the complexities of the world. Bumping heads, pit stop, wanting to move I did not, selsh actions of innocence blocked, all routes of escape one had to lock, unlock cocked back the glock and shot a bullet straight through my heart, the sharp pin pierced the shell whilst I saw my heart pop. Blood splatters staining my mirror, the one behind my eyes, I die a lil every time I replay the tape, rewind all the facts and piece it together every syllable slaps, me in the face I was a cancerous case, I apologise if I overstayed. I see clear theres no haze, I distract my self from my own thoughts going insane. 9.9 offshore earthquake caused a year long tsunami in my brain, I got swept away on a volatile wave, oating into you, I
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spiraled away. Deep into a whirlpool, a small rowing boat couldnt paddle from the fall So I fell. Goodnight

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The Pumpkin Waltz

16/03/2011 Why run, running is long, Id rather just stroll at my pace rather than jog because Im playing catch up. I guess I stroll in pursuit of a dream, moreso a vision which needs to be fullled. This vision is the rst thing I think of in the morning and the last thing before bed. Its on my mind every millisecond of the day, and it seems that all activity feeds the creative processes required for me to achieve it. Sure you get caught up in a whole lot, move so far in one direction that you lose all sight of home, the road leading to where you were going and yourself, but theres always a point where you take a chance on one direction which leads back to the road you started to, no sooner have you gured out that there must of been a reason for the whole occurrence, no sooner do you realise that youre back to square one, where you began but in a different environment, circumstance, youre in a blank situation. Many people seem to think with hindsight, to me hindsight only makes you depressed, its had me down on so many occasions because rather than focus on whats in front of me, what opportunities are open to me, Id be focussing on the past. Foresight, dreams, visions and the present is all I possess, wisdom and insight shall propel me forward en route to the stars. I cant front like I dont feel weird and think backwards in some instances but Im outside of the square now, Ive gone full circle, back to square one where Ive learnt so much, Ive grown too. I look forward to whatever it is Im going to be doing because Im happy right now, Im blessed. Things could be so much worse, Im glad I can wake up in the
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morning and smile because my family and friends are all ne. Sure theres many things taking place in the world, but right here right now in my world things are looking bright. I cant dwell on the ills of the world because this world is nothing but illusion, I can only give thanks that Im beginning to make a difference and I shall keep doing so.

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Insomnia 0325
17/03/2011 Im a creature of the night, feel like I cant close my eyes, I cant even blink. If I sleep I waste time, if I waste time I lose momentum, if I lose momentum Im fucked. Yea fucked because theres so many thoughts and ideas dancing around my head that Ive gotta get to work on em, I cant rest. Its a fucking lifestyle, of a mastermind, a super villain thats likeable but not really bad because hes got a good heart, gold it seems Hmmm Spinning. Illin, insomnias got me up tipping, my thumbs onto the screen of my iPhone, I write loads prolly drop jewels by the boatload, the older I get I love being alone because I realise how much other people tred on my toe The one on my left foot next to the big one, its slightly longer which means Ima rich one, evil one? I dunno son Why say that, say shit sweep it under mats, thunderclaps like 5k ehonda slaps, writing in riddles u like that? Recite that, stand up can I mic that, ride tracks like a bike at A junction causing a crash, querida called for a lash, I shall go there or stay back, stay away ca I aint tryna get the blame for sutin I never did in the rst place, she came rst place, tie break, nished same place shes telling me that its late, zzle out whats it all about off the rooftops she and me shout Negative beyond reasonable doubt. Happier again, quite lonely, walking alone into the distance

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I dunno man. Im empty. No words. Metaphors or curves. Im up in the ear like birds. Word. Got nufn, not fronting no stunting. Im lost in the dark tryna nd the light or something. Switch on, could this be a song? If it is it may be long. Verses no breaks in between, wrote this whilst I couldnt sleep.

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A Not So Fairytale Ending

18/03/2011 In hindsight it would have been a good idea to steal a kiss before you departed. Why did I stop all instinctive actions, to think about the consequences? Surely it would have been better to steal a kiss from those soft ery lips, and deal with the consequences as they arise. Thinking spoilt the whole moment, not even the nal but the previous two. Maybe I should have stopped, twisted about 80 to my right, held you close, and went for the prize, all in that split second. I could have dealt with the consequences after kissing you passionately for all of ten-seconds, pulling you close, nishing the kiss to open my eyes and catch a long stare into yours, rather than not kiss you and be in bed alone, staring up at the ceiling wondering if youre wondering the same thing. What am I like eh? An oddball who thinks more than he lets on, who only articulates himself when he writes rather than talks. An oddball who prefers to be alone rather than around people who dont understand him.

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The oddball who has more fun amongst his trains of thought than with actual people Well, almost all except for you. Monologues of misttery aside, youre someone whose trains of thought I embrace and sometimes try to outrun. If I dont distract myself and I ride your train of thought, I remind myself of heartbreak. Its bittersweet because theres so many great moments but its the thought of you no longer being here that causes the most pain. Its the complexities of life: youre within reach but I cant touch, you get to a certain point on the eld before being shown a red card, youre blown out the water by the slightest surprise call, which always manages to scramble the once tranquil interior of your brain, and exterior expressions, bodily functions, and mood I light up and smile then before you know it, the game of 52 face down has turnt into 52 face up, you forget why you had a mask on in the rst place. All you remember are those lips, her eyes, the way in which she wore her hair, her derriere in those jeans, and her scent: the sweet scent of Thierry Mugler, Chloe, and Dolce. It seems as though I have become a perfume expert as I tell when youre an extraterrestrial, signature Parisian oral chic with a twist of the modern vibrancy of contemporary classic styles Youll always be the one because each time I close my eyes, I see your face and fall another few thousand leagues beneath the deepest sea to the shores of Atlantis, where I oat in the ocean of love

Thats the chain of events every time you see her. Theres nothing you desire more than a fairytale ending as opposed to the not so fairytale reality.

The intricate simplicities of lifes eternal labyrinth. Ghost.

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The Pretzel
19/03/2011 Pretzels look like twisted hearts covered in sweet sticky syrup. Sometimes bitter when covered in salt, sometimes sweet when covered in sugar, dark and sweet when covered in chocolate but twisted nonetheless. Ive never been a fan of pretzels, nor twisted hearts, because Ive only ever tasted the ones covered in salt, Ive never had the pleasure of indulging in a sweet pretzel. You do get used to the taste of the salted and dried pretzels but you get to a point where you stop eating. You forget about the pretzel, what it tastes like, the scent, the texture, every single part of the pretzel becomes non existent in your taste memory, you only remember holding it in your hand and seeing it covered in those mahoosive rocks of salt, which require you to drink a gallon of water after each packet to rehydrate because every single pretzel in the packet is covered in gigantic rocks of salt. Would you prefer another packet of Pretzels, one which hasnt been open to invasion by the atmosphere, a closed tightly sealed packet, or a different avour perhaps What happens when youre in the midst of a sweetened pretzel?

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Will you test the pretzel avour placing it on the tip of your tongue, or shove the whole pretzel into your mouth and wait for the surprise? Will you gamble all you fear on buying that lottery ticket for the chance of having a winning ticket? How can you differentiate a twisted bitter heart from a pretzel when theres no comparison, didnt you say that you forgot what a pretzel looked, tasted, felt and smelt like, surely you wouldnt be able to tell the difference? How on earth could you compare a pretzel to a heart, how do you even remember the word pretzel and not have any idea of its associated images? There are so many inconsistencies in your statements. Story of my life Pretzels twisted and bittersweet: broken, repaired, recovering, shattered, tarnished, mending, healing, sweet, warm, cold, lustful, loving, nurturing, bright, heavy, light, sour, misused, heartless.

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The Sun Still Shines

25/03/2011 The sun still shines after the darkest night, even after the darkest of grey clouds obstructs its view, its still there in the midst of a storm shining bright, illuminating the path of life. The sun still shines in the clear blue sky, on the brightest of days, when my mood is contrary to the weather, the sun shines brightly whilst I remain inside. I dont want to smile, I want to lay here in this duvet, wrapped in my own melancholy for a while. I dont want to climb out of my duvet, to glance out of the window to see the sights, I wish it was night time, I cant seem to hide from the light. Away from the sun I prefer to hide, today I feel like Im hollow inside. The sky outside of my window is bright, I feel like a stranger to the light, so I squint my eyes. I cant stop it from happening, revelations are bright, time to get out of this duvet and open my eyes to the light. The sun still shines.
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Cherry Blossoms
12/04/2011 The romanticism of life can be found in some of the most subtle places, you dont necessarily need to be in love to see the world of romance for romance is for moments whilst love is the lifetime. You could experience romance in the prolonged glare of seeing someone as you pass them on the escalator as you both envision spending a lifetime together in the split second of passing. Time bears no such relevance to matters of the heart and mind, time is something which is physical; a by product of the level of atmospheres the earth spins on its axis. Romance and Love sit at two different polarities: love is the all consuming which eats you alive, and spits you out at the end of your cycle when the nutrients have been put to great use whereas romance is the chase; the innocence of the rst exchange of pleasantries, the odes, the poetry, the rst few dates, the rst night of passion, romance is youthful. Many of us never know what we get into when we set out on the road of companionship, theres always a sense of nding the one; the perfect partner, the one to spend the rest of our lives with. What many people fail to consider is the road they should take to do so, romance or love.
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Romance is the moment that can last from sixty-seconds to a lifetime, whilst Love is apart of romance but theres always a sense of renewal My train of thoughts arrives at a crossroads where Im about to contradict myself. Romance is love, although its not agape, its love. Romance is the love for moments in life where you have aligned with another, and knowing when a cycle has come to a halt. Sometimes we know things but rarely like to admit such things, so its at this where Id like to pose the question: Have I been weak for the past few weeks because Ive arrived at the other end with no nutrients and tried to salvage some energy just to survive, or have I been suffering from a broken heart that has failed to heal, failed to be bandaged, super glued together so many times that its shattered and turned into dust? If so does that make me heartless, do I fail to feel any form of emotion, am I numb? Quite the contrary because if my heart has shattered under strenuous surgical attempts to revive something that beat with infallible vigour, Im sure the graceful and most benign will plant the seed from which a stronger one shall grow? A mere question which answers itself, a mere set of circumstances which blessed me with wisdom, insight and knowledge to continue to the second quarter, which judging by the life led by my father, may be the last, so as the rst owers of spring blossom, so shall I Peace and Love K O.
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Fear And Uncertainty

02/06/2011 Sometimes we get lost in life. We usually know what we are doing and where our destination is but sometimes we cant help but wake up and lose it. If Im being totally honest, I think thats just down to rejecting the one step at a time and faltering at the rst sign of fear. Theres no need to be scared of that which has not happened yet, nor is anything else certain? The only thing thats certain is the letters Im tapping on the touch screen of my iPhone whilst Kendrick ows from the speakers whilst I lay in bed, under my duvet, typing letters between inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide. Where are we going with this, whats at the root of this tree of thought that continues to sprout from the depths of my subconsciousness? The matter at hand is fear of the uncertain. Surely we must learn to overcome such fear when its all we know. I dont know if the sentence after the next before the comma that will be followed by a letter that I not yet know will be because that sentence may stop in the middle, right where my heart stopped beating. Heart shattered
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into pieces by all the strain of the looming uncertainties of my existence quite like the glass cylinder which shatters at the rst contact with scorching water from the freshly boiled kettle because its molecules are solid, they know not how to adapt, they simply exist as a static entity. Thats exactly what happens when we give in to becoming fearful of lifes uncertainty, we forget how to adapt to our uncertain circumstances, we lose all ability to be spontaneous Embrace your uncertainty, relax, focus, step by step, continue through life knowing that your thoughts are full of energy so keep them positive so that your heart remains clean to catch a likened spirit... Before I depart, goodnight and god bless. Never fear the uncertain because the creator gives you the ability to create your future with every new second, every new breath youre blessed with.

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The Eureka Spiral

03/06/2011 When, what, where, how, why? Possibly questions we ask ourselves in any given situation without even realising it was a question rst. What happens when you work out where it all went wrong, where the crack in the wall started? Are you likely to remember the exact chain of events and link them in a chain of demonstration to an onlooker who now feels as though youve known all along when you only just worked it out yourself ? Thats a very tough predicament to nd yourself in, because not only have you overwhelmed the other party with a dissertations worth of interlinked events, you realised where you yourself went wrong, where you yourself took the wrong turn Eureka perhaps? Maybe, just maybe you took the right turn to shut down all generators and allow your thoughts to manifest in silence; no words, no speech, no thoughts, just you and
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your senses, you and your experiences, you and you, you and I, you and god, you and your life. Hindsight is a blessing because as you begin to spiral into the abyss of what ifs youre suddenly faced with the turning point, the part of the spiral I call the reversible'; you spiral so deep that you reach the light. The Reversible could be likened to going from one side of the globe, as if you were drilling thru the earth and coming out at the other side. This is the beauty of the whole thought process because rather than be consumed with the negative, your train of thought begins to run on positive fuel, or it doesnt even have to be positive or negative, the reversible is the point at which you begin to see things from a perspective outside of your own, from somewhere totally different.-Could either be a birds eye, side eye, mirror, back o yo ed, who cares? Your spirit has elevated and resonates at a higher level, and you feel elated at the prospect of nearly solving a major part of the ongoing mystery. Now you have the secret ingredient you can apply it to all your recipes. All your meals from this day forth will be some of the most nutritious and lling meals, each tastier than the last lled with organic insight, and tender lessons to provide your shell with enough fuel to keep your mind at optimum levels to soak up information, which it can process into knowledge There you have it, hindsight with the eureka bulb shining so bright.

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Corcovado
07/6/2011 Does anyone have those days when their mind is discombobulated with mangled trains of thought or am I the only one? The main culprit is yesterdays weather, the weird dream, and the lack of sleep. Where the road leads from here, who knows, Im as puzzled as you are, you know when you feel like youre wandering through the thick fog along the M25 in rush hour, hearing the car horns fade into the distance as they suddenly appear, headlights rst, out of the mist. Im awake, wondering why Im a zombied wreck wandering through the bamboozled abyss. Im so lost The map on my iPhone fails to function because 3G and the grey clouds in the heavens are not the best of friends but enemies. This is crazy, how am I sposed to nd my way if Im calling but receive no answer, its like an echo from the cliff edge before I fall into quarry of jagged rocks below

Hello, Hello Is anyone out here, can you hear me?

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My distress signals go unnoticed as if Im with Magnus and Xavier venturing through the Savage Land in pursuit of the route back to the portal back through the ice to the pit of the globe, the cold continent which is Antarctica. Im wondering if Ill ever get back to the island with its golden beaches, hammock clad palm trees, and the humble beachside hut. Ive been hinting to the stars for a long while, Ive slyly been on the Corcavado sitting on the right arm of Christ, underneath the moon and the rotating clusters in the heavens. I used to sit and recite the odes I had written you outside your window but you stopped peeping through your curtain, I really wished youd open the latch and invite me in because all itll take is one bite and wed be able to spend the rest of eternity together. I sit on the right side every night, waiting for you until Dawn makes her journey from Mt. Olympus to the heavens knowing that the beams of light could tear me apart. Im nding that the more I sit on Corcovado till the beginning of Dawns arrival, I become a lil more immune. I wonder whether its love or acclimatisation, am I adapting to the daylight, will I still be a creature of the night once I learn to survive Dawns rays?

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Friday Forecast?
10/06/2011 Theres something in the air that I nor any other can explain, Its a playful sombre hovering over London. The sky is so grey that if you didnt know any better, Youd think God and all angels were running a marathon in the sky, dressed in grey jogging suits with the sweat that trickles from the foreheads of the divine athletes, Falling upon London in such a mischievous manner. Todays rain can be likened to an annoying sibling, Its so light it travels wherever the wind blows. If you turn your face right because the rain falls from the left, The wind blows from the right, Carrying the cold wet drops into your face, Onto the screen of your phone and onto the lenses of your spectacles, Which you dare not wipe in fear of living the rest of your days looking out of the annoying smudges and smears, Left behind after impatience got in the way of allowing the rain drops to dry on their own.
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I wonder if Im the only one who prefers London when its covered in grey clouds and rainfall. The rain adds a romantic air of mystery to the city. London becomes an intriguing place where everyone is suddenly on the move. The streets become barren as commuters and pedestrians cower inside doorways to escape the heavenly showers. No one wants to get soaked, No one wants to spend the rest of their day in cold wet clothes, No wants to spend the duration of the day on their feet when their socks are soaked, No one wants to be out alone in the wet and cold, I guess wed rather be at home, In the arms of a partner or tucked up in bed watching chat shows. Theres the designer clad brolleys that battle strong gusts of wind to stay upright, the umbrellas that become more of a chore when you realise that you must remember not to leave it anywhere unattended as the act of theft doesnt apply to umbrellas on rainy days like this. Broadsheet newspapers accentuate pinstripe three piece suits, with the distinctive Savile Row cut, along Londons Square mile. The broadsheet feeling like a slab of concrete over ones head after each mm of rain which soaks into the newspaper. The city looks so romantic, the limestone and concrete buildings are soaked in a coat of rainfall so they change color. Everything is washed over with water requiring you to cleanse your thoughts.

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I guess thats probably the sole reason why theres rain fall. The duration for which there are heavy showers is the time where you sit inside thinking, reevaluating, cleansing your thoughts, allowing yourself to be still as you wait for God to nish in the shower. I know Ive done a whole lot of thinking today, doubt whether Im any clearer than before the heavy clouds came but I rested nonetheless

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The Love Movement

12/06/2011 Seriously in all seriousness, in all seriously seriousness Im high. High on the fact that I let the world know how I feel, and the brightest star in the sky how I feel. Sometimes we all assume that people can read us like a book but in reality the more we isolate ourselves is the more distant we become. How is the other person supposed to know how you feel, felt, still feel if you say nothing? Communication is always key, never take anyone for granted, especially if the person in question is the only one to have your heart as well as the only person in the whole wide world that doesnt seem to get on your nerves. My point is that not saying anything gives the perception that you dont care, speak your mind no matter if what you say isnt reciprocated, well received or even in some cases taken seriously; get it out of your system, let the other person know because lifes too short to be consumed by your own selsh pride which becomes habitual. Break the habit and say something, let that person know everything on your mind, be an adult, be open, honest, sincere, caring, loving, go that extra mile because if they mean that much they deserve nothing less than to be treated as the divine being they are. Its all or nothing.
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Never love in the hope of receiving, allow yourself to love freely, openly, without restraint. Love is the greatest gift you can give to someone because with love comes the emotion, affection, compassion, passion, butteries, smiles, joy, laughter, elation. Love is walking in the clouds, soaring high amongst the constellations because your heart and soul connect with someone who when their spirit combines with yours, create inter dimensional projections taking you to the astral elds and back in the blink of an eye Never take the one for granted, life, love, and romance all teach us one lesson: Find your moment and ensure it lasts forever. We never know when the clock will stop ticking so give as much love as you can to the world and beyond, help spread vivid hues throughout our existence.

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Projection Practice
12/06/2011 Its so easy to become disheartened when faced with our current circumstances but I nd that projection is always the best way to ght off the negative feeling of an adverse set of circumstances. Best explained from a message I sent to a friend. I thought Id share it with you all because theres so many of us, whether graduate or someone with a dream whos stuck in an environment where they feel that their part time retail job is blinding the light at the other end of the tunnel. Dont lose hope in your dream, nor allow your environment to affect your mood, practice projection Remember this

Trap my body, cant trap my mind.

Fair enuff youre in that environment for no other reason than we have previously discussed but its a temporary struggle. Youre there in the physical but allow your mind
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and your imagination to be where your dreams are, strategise and plan towards building your vision, its the only way to stay sane. Fuck all the bloodsuckers just remember that youre onto so much greater things because you have aspiration, dreams, and a desire to succeed! Stay up, I know its easier said than done but dont allow it current environment to get to you. Keep your head in the stars When faced with any form of disheartenment, remember to practice mental and spiritual projection because its the only way youll remember that your mind, imagination, and dreams are much more powerful than anything in the physical realm. Never let the actions, energy, or negative intensions of others affect your own. Projection is necessary practice if you to build the castle in the stars you have always dreamed of.

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Princess Toadstool
13/06/2011 I think we all want a Princess Peach, you know the most beautiful in all the land; a woman who wed journey to the ends of existence if it meant holding the princess. Ill risk life and limb to be able to spend a second with you in eternal paradise because youre worth it: youre intelligent, beautiful, endearing and spiritual, caring, compassionate and sincere. I promise you my darling Toadstool, I am no Wretched Wario, am not the brute Bowser who invades your fathers kingdom and snatches you at any given opportunity, Im simply someone whos been in pursuit from the very rst time I laid eyes upon you, the very rst time I somehow teleported to your kingdom through the drainpipe at the command of your father. You my darling are worth a million Emma Frosts, Jean Greys, Sarah Janes, you my darling are worth your weight in stars, so I stay in pursuit, I stay at your disposal, I awlays come to your rescue, not out of obligation but out of love. I risk it all to spend a little time with you to see that you are happy, that youre safe. I pray that one day maybe wed be able to raise a dynasty of own free of the tribulations that are the Kooplings, Koopas, Evil tortoises, spikey owers which try to eat you, the
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bricks in the desert that randomly try to attack you and that wretched desert sun. I really dont understand why the desert sun chooses to attack me when he knows Im on route to rescue you, I cant seem to catch a break. My darling Peach, what Im trying to say is that weve wasted plenty of time going back and forth, its time for us to nally be together. Maybe if I were with you always, that brute Bowser may not even attempt to kidnap you because Ill be the dark night with a shining sword, Ill be your protector. I have no wealth, no material possessions, all I have is a pure heart and a vivid imagination full of dreams Princess will you marry me?

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Make A Wish
18/06/2011 I wonder what everyone wishes for the most. If I were to step inside your brain, what would be the one thing you desired the most? Would it be riches beyond all comprehension or riches and the rewards of having wealth in abundance? Would it be an abundance of wealth or the wealth and things that cost as much as the amount you had? What do you wish for? Love or nding the right person to give love to? The right person to pour all your resources into or someone whod rell your resources when theyve been plummeted? What do you wish for? Peace or tranquility? Acquisition or inequity? A moment or eternity?
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What do you wish for? Im Intrigued

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Anyone For A Cuddle?

21/06/2011 Theres countless points during the day when I really wish I could give everyone a mahooooosive cuddle. This mahooooosive cuddle is not only for reasons of sadness or tragedy, but I wish I could cuddle everyone because sometimes thats we need; a warm affectionate hug to keep us going. I wish I could just give you cuddles at countless points during the day just to say hey Im thinking about you, I care for you, I love you. You might be low on energy but heres a mahoooosive warm cuddle to keep that re of yours alight, its my way of transferring some of my positive energy into you so you can reignite the ame inside yourself Cheese aside, a cuddle is great, a cuddle makes everyone warm, comforted and happy. Next time you see someone with plundering energy or mood levels offer them a mahooooosive squeeze! You never know, this could be the beginning of world peace.

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Into The Void

01/09/2011 Funnily enough Polly Filler can never ll a void, no matter how big or small. No amount of Polly Filler can ll a void in the heart, inside the mind, spirit or soul. Many people nd sadness in temporary xes, which can be likened to an addiction. That one opening sentence was relaying around my head yesterday afternoon because I felt alone. I looked at my phone where there was no reply from you, any of you, or a message from you, or any of you. I felt alone from Saturday when I had nobody to speak to, Friday when no one would take my calls, Sunday when I felt like my heart had own away on the plane; the void became bigger, so big that I question whether Ill ever nd it again. You know what I mean by it, love. I failed to tell you how I felt, I failed to nd out if it was reciprocated, I wander the same routes, ride the same trains, see the same people, Im surrounded by all the same ghosts The thing about love is that when you think youve found it, your happy, when bad stuff happens you put it down to endurance, eventually you get used to it because youre led to believe through others and the wider social perspective that its always expected. The thing is that when someone becomes your whole world, you get so used to that signicant other and youre comfortable around them, absolutely. This makes it hard when trying to move one because now youre faced with the prospect of having to
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pace yourself when coming out of your shell, if you have retreated back inside. Its also the challenge of facing rejection from someone new, or them not being what you thought they were. The whole period of meeting someone after youve loved is perplexing because youve got to be prepared for a very unsettling period in your life. Some endure and go through getting to know prospective partner after prospective partner until they meet the right one, whilst others try to fall back onto the one they are most comfortable with. If youre on the receiving end it could prove difcult because that pattern has been established but if youve just come out of something and youre beginning to nd your way again, the best way is to spend time alone so you know exactly what you want out of a relationship. Are you looking to get married and have kids, do you want a partner? There are endless choices you have to consider because many times people meet eachother at different points in their lives, some are ready, some arent, some think they are, others just nd themselves on a mahooosive rollercoaster of new experiences, either way you learn so much about yourself in the process as you do with everything. Ive learnt to tell someone how I feel and not to be scared about being unsettled I was dwelling on it earlier in all of my melancholic, love sick, lonesome thinking. Dont use Polyller, get to know yourself and the reason theres a big void within.

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Empty?
20/09/2011 Ever feel like youre running on empty? Im having a moment, you know the moment you pave over by keeping yourself occupied because the moment you stop spinning on your axis, the thoughts kick in. The sentiment of feeling alone, destitute, deserted on a desert island with space for one, no shelter except the one palm tree which drops a coconut a day alongside one branch to light a re with to keep you warm and cook the one sh that Poseidon sends for your meal I need to get off of this island and swim back to civilization, but I need to nd some way of lling the big void rst. Ive tried using Polyller, Ive tried paper mch but nothing seems to hold the cracks together. Every time I look I the mirror I get paranoid that they can see the melancholia beneath my grin, if I took my frames off would they be able to read the stories inside my eyes, I wonder if theyll nally be able to read what was really going on. What is going on? I feel heartbroken, empty, alone, lost
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With no map to navigate my way through the thick peripheral fog, my best bet is to keep my head in the stars to guide me to my destination. Ghost.

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Absence Of Mind
22/09/2011 How likely is the possibility of forgetting something? Can you forget about a playlist, a song, a lyric, a word, a date, time, a moment? Is it really possible to forget or do you have to bury whatever it is in the depths of your consciousness, hoping that it will never resurface from the light leagues beneath the ocean, where you buried it. It is to be hoped that whatever it is you wish to forget will not arise from the grave of past sentiments, like a creature of the night Currently suspended in mid air, my shell remains cemented to the connes of a box but my minds elsewhere. Perhaps in another hemisphere, a far away land of possibility, I wonder if my absentmindedness is the result of my spirit currently living in a eld of hopes, dreams, and future possibilities. I sit upright with my legs crossed, supported by the thirty degree recline against my palms upon the soil whilst I stare up at the sky unpatiently awaiting change. An air of patience encircles my energy eld as to balance out all of my irrational impulses and negative thoughts. How long can this stagnancy last for, when will the spaceship arrive to beam me up so I can explore the never-ending skies, bringing light to some of the darkest corners?

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I ready to y, Im about to take off 3, 2, 1 Lift off.

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Travel?
26/09/2011 The more I think about it, is the more Im excited. Tomorrow is never certain but when youve got plans, when theres no obstacles nothing else matters. Its simply a means to an end, the whole energy thing of putting in and getting out of it what you put in. I love that equation, quite simply because its the truth. My life can go one of three ways: 1. Chase an illusion along a path that doesnt and will never feel right. 2. Give up, regress and become grey once Ive lost all ability to use my imagination and be creative. 3. Travel every 92 days I kinda gured that its weird for me because I dont really know where home is. My heritage is a mixture of so many different races and cultures, so with so many ancestral customs running through me its hard to nd a place that Ill either call home or a way of life that suits me. The point Im making is that the reason we learn so much about ourselves when we travel is because experiencing a different way of life is like looking into a mirror of ourselves. Many of us dont know where we come from and why we are here but when we travel and connect with other cultures, its a way of nding out more about ourselves bringing us closer to where we came from
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I know exactly how it is in my mind, I just hope I did a good job at trying to explain. I guess thats a product of spending much time of alone, Ive had so much time and energy to meditate and dream if you get what I mean

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Take The Plunge

27/09/2011 I think that when you get to a certain age you stop worrying so much about whats a few miles ahead in uncertainty and start enjoying the present. It really doesnt have to be an age thing, it could just be after an epiphany of some sort where youre sorta like

Maaan, fuck all that malarky, this is where Im at and every step I take from now will make a difference.

This time a few weeks ago I was worrying about all sorts of shit but Ive stopped for some reason. I guess it could be a result of weeding out all the things that were wrong with my life, you know the uncertainty, the thinking if you do certain things youll further yourself type of thing. Id always lived by the what the fuck mantra but one day last week I just thought

Why am I doing this, whats in it for me, do I want to do this?

The answer was simple. I decided to put a stop to all the farcical malarky, all the bollocks I were doing because I deemed it right, morally acceptable, or something which I
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needed to do to progress Truth was, it werent benetting me because what I really want to do is the total opposite. Rather than be static and put undue pressure on myself in a few situations that my heart werent really in, I gured Id take a plunge and swim with the sharks Currently building a raft.

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#2 - My Duvet
20/10/2011 My beloved duvet, the safest place in the world. My place of peace, tranquility, contemplation, and creativity. When times get rough in the midnight hour, I dim the lights, slip into my duvet and head straight to the notepad to write whatever it is thats currently playing the equivalent of a mahooosive anvil on top of my cranium. Call after call, alarm after alarm, snooze after snooze, Im wrapped in my duvet, wrapped in a foetal or staring up at the ceiling, clicking my ankles. I dislike being bothered when under my duvet, I detest seeing random names pop up on my phone to talk all manner of triviality so I politely press the silent button hoping that they wont call until Im in a frame of mind where Im not so pensive to accommodate your nonsensical ramblings. My duvet is my paradise retreat, keeping me warm through the autumn and winter months when the temperature drops. I dont even wish I could stay under my duvet until the end of time because I dont want to forget why I love my duvet so much.
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I dont want to get tired of the one place I can go to get a slice of peace, the one place I go to close my eyes and take off into the unknown. Time to get up and get out of my duvet and experience the cold, harsh reality of life outside of my cocoon.

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#3 - The Missing Half Of My Cuddle

22/10/2011 In a world lled with indifference and opposites, its no wonder that we seem to lose the things that we cherish most. Theres so much concentration on tting into a space that we rarely, if ever realise that we found the perfect abode until we move house. The perfect abode where everything ts into a place all on its own, the same place where you dont have to look far to nd what you need because everything you ever wanted is inside. Its the only place on planet earth where you can be yourself, the only glass house you can stroll around naked without a care for the pair of eyes that seem to be admiring you as opposed to passing judgement. Abodes and nudity aside, I seem to have lost half of the perfect cuddle. The person in question was the perfect t: the contours of her body were a perfect match to mine, perfect body temperature, texture, scent, If truth be told, you are so delicate and fragile that all I wanted to do is cuddle and protect you. Thoughts of you seem to get me all warm, fuzzy and mushy; I melt when it comes to you, I become a softy. Youve got an aura thats pure, unblemished, to me youre absolute. In no way am I trying to ll your head full of hot air but Ive always been drawn to you.

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Beautiful, cute, modest, polite, generous, thoughtful, considerate; if truth be told I miss that face of yours, I miss your petite gure, I miss your heart. If truth be told, youll always have a special place because for some profound reason I really admire you. The strange thing is that when I think of her I can feel the cuddle. I used to get these foreign sensations when we cuddled, because Id get this urge to protect you from all impending danger like a chivalrous knight. I dont think Ive ever felt like that with anyone. I dont know how to describe nor fathom those sensations and Ive probably hugged many women since, but cuddled is a different matter because every other hug is not the same, every other hug is far from my Damsel. My cute, dainty, petite, foxx of a Damsel. The same Damsel that I wouldnt mind stepping out of the hour glass and cuddling for a few lifetimes before stepping inside and building a time machine to go back to where we should have been. I wonder if I can build a spaceship to end this suffrage? Are there any aero-nautical-cosmological engineers willing to help me on my quest to locate my cute lil pepper pot so I can get one cuddle? Can anyone get me in touch with Dexter to see whether he has a functioning Time Machine in his laboratory just in case my pepper pot would like to accompany me outside of the hour glass for forty days and nights on a marathon catch up cuddle? I offer a generous reward if you manage to nd the missing half of my cuddle.

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#4 - The Draft Box

23/10/2011 Theres that one place that holds all your off the record thoughts, all the cringe inducing things youd usually send when youre caught up in a particular sentiment: the moment after watching the movie with a million ups and downs that force you to think about your last. The draft box is comparable to Pandoras because it houses all the secrets which reveal how youre really doing after the messy, amicable, bittersweet break up. The draft box has everything from Hi, hope youre alright to the I miss you so fucking much and I cant live without you.' Draft box messages are usually composed when youre intoxicated or isolated, in the early hours of the morning, or when you genuinely want to say something but dont know what to say. You can send a smile, you can send a kiss, you can send an x, you can send something random but the moment you elaborate upon the reply to your initial message with anything other than Im alright you run the risk of killing the convo by going waaay too deep, the ultimate spillage Im sure theres a million and one things that we all want to say at different times because we get caught up in moments, sentiments, and nostalgia but to leave your feelings
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in the draft box rather than delivering the message to the recipient means youre disciplined because A) You consider the other person over yourself and whether they actually want to feel uncomfortable as you spill your heart out to be greeted with an awkward silence, and B) You no longer know how you feel yourself, youre unsure, you feel something but not enough to open your mouth because you have learnt that theres a well dened line between idealisms and actuality. Maybe its just me whos discovered a draft box, whether me opting to use my draft box is down to fear or me being sensible is up to you to decide but Id certainly say the latter as if I really did want something Id do whatever it took to have it. Have you got a draft box or do you deliver all messages? Ghost.

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#7 - Where Art Thou?

26/10/2011 Wheres love to be found if its not in the heart or mind? Loves that battle that defeats your purpose and will to ever love again. You go into the abyss of love naively thinking that youll get a pleasant ride and happy endings to be left with heartache and bittersweet memories. Theres the happy times where you held hands and went out on adventures, then there are the darker times, the many moments where love had you spiralling further into angst and insecurity as the anothers shortcomings were projected on to you. Loves tricky, its complex because if theres an imbalance youre fucked. You can be yourself but loves is not without constraint, in some cases not all. Sometimes I wonder whether I picked the right women, I wonder if Ill ever nd the right woman because a majority of the women I catch are in unfavourable predicaments or often too complex to ride with. Why are all the great women I meet who Id love with all my heart never single? Theyre either never single when I meet them and by the time they are single, Im too scared to move in. Life, love, time, and courage Im currently trying to calculate the best way to balance all three.
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Sometimes we thought or think we love or have loved until we feel something totally foreign that weve never felt before. Regardless of whether we had anything concrete in common, I werent even aware of how much I was head over hills until I thought about it. Theres so much things I cant describe nor even begin to articulate but there was this feeling I was totally alien to which bafes me to this day Back to love. Back to romance. Back to life. Back to me nding you. Wherever you are, say hi.

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#8 - Trouble?
27/10/2011 I wonder if what I write is ever misinterpreted, I wonder if people look at it through my eyes or interpret whatever I write from the outside looking in. Sometimes it helps when reading to wear my glasses, slip your feet into my size 42s, 32x32s, and medium tee. Now tell me what you see Im intrigued. This week has been kind of dark but Ive realised that I shouldnt be scared of anything, when it all gets a bit much, I should just break it all down into sizeable chunks and begin working. Its much easier for me to take one step at a time, with no clearly dened route I could adapt to my path wherever it may take me. I guess were all guilty of worrying unnecessarily, the worry will always have you doubting yourself but no matter how far you fall into that dark pit, the sunshine always comes at the break of dawn. Theres a few things that arent as important as I once thought, a whole lot of things are trivial, a majority of wants are things that I dont necessarily need and the things I put on the shelf are the things I should be putting the most energy into.

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As someone whos always been a lone trailblazer its often hard to execute ideas because I always feel Im on my own. Yea itll be great to have a team around me but I havent found anyone whos on the same page as of yet. Ive met many great people but theres no synergy. I realize that to fulll my destiny I need to be decisive and turn my fear into courage to be victorious. I was thinking earlier this week that I could either make an investment or take a break but why does it have to be either or, why cant it be both? My vacation will be more like research and a trip to collect my thoughts, whilst my investment will be the start or progression of my aspiration. Both play a major part in the web of activity and I understand that Im beginning to speak in riddles so yea Ghost.

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#9 - The Dream
27/10/2011 I remember having this dream where I was walking through Deptford talking to Kanye West. I was telling him how much I admired his work and sharing my interpretation of his catalogue. It was an interesting conversation until he put me on the spot by asking

So what do you do?

I replied

I rap, produce and write my own songs.

Kanye asked me to show him what I had done and I hesitated, I had nothing nished, because everything was a demo. He began to question why I had nothing nished and ready to play for him and I began to feel like I missed out on possibly the greatest opportunity of life because I had not been putting what I love rst and nishing off my songs.

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I woke up shortly after with the intention of nishing my creations just in case I do happen to meet Kanye when Im awake. Ghost.

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#10 - The Obvious?

7/11/2011 Its not known when, where or how it suddenly clicked inside my mind but I think I nally woke up to the inevitable. I cant even hide from it, its that obvious. I opened my eyes up to how obvious I must seem to outside eyes, when did I become so obvious? I wonder if she has a slight idea or even an inkling of it, I bet she knows. I think shes probably known from day one, probably before I had realised exactly how much or how obvious, this is certied anarchy. Its not even like words can specify situation, its just something that I cant help, it comes natural, its just right; always is. Theres no right or wrong way to go about it from here on because the fact that youve known before me and probably before everyone else is the reason Im intrigued Do you even know or am I juggling a set of assumptions? Should I be embarrassed or elated that you knew and not said anything? Is it a bad thing that you hadnt said anything or are you waiting for me to roll the dice and play a straight hand? Either and Ors aside, its not even an overnight affair, its something Ive known deep down; one of those nmero uno, once caught savour the prestige pedigree and never

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let one slip out of sight back into the sea. Prize, naaahhh, Id say more of a divine catch. If truth be told I kept quiet because I heard you were already spoken for, not sure if you still are but the silly thing to do was to sit at a distance rather than approach you and ask knowing that you could speak for yourself.

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#11 - Free Fall For All?

11/11/2011 Falling in love. The head over heels, cant get that person out of your head. Its your guilty pleasure, the big secret that you dare not share with the one person who could make it come true or not. Much of the time the falling is much better than the landing because depending on whether you land in a set of cuddly open arms, you may end up hitting the concrete; shattering body and splattering your liquied remains on impact with the ground. Dont be scared of falling nor landing, dont be scared of talking either. Quite rich coming from me but hey its true. Just because youve shattered once hitting the concrete or landing in a set of brass arms which crushed every part of you with their uncompromising grip should never be a reason to stop falling. Never let the past deny you of an essential nutrient, never let the past become your self imposing exile, never let an experience deny you of freedom. Dont let the past be the reason youre cold, bitter, and alone because that isolation is your cell; solitary connement.

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Freedom. Do you know what it means to be free? In no way am I talking about your marital or relationship status, Im talking about freedom in the context of giving. Freedom in the context of giving so much of yourself that you have nothing left to carry. Freedom of giving all the love you have to give, every part of you without holding back. Theres no bitterness, secrecy, or assumptions based upon preconceived prejudice, youre free because its not about a trade off of love; its become you loving with an open and generous heart. Never ever look at things from a perspective of gaining, think of what makes you happy, think of you being free to wander through life doing what you love and not worrying about carrying a few bags lled with self inicted burdens; the origin of which lies within you not letting go and freeing yourself of the past. Easier said than done but in life the conveyor belt is in forward motion. Sure theres deja vus, coincidences, and many similar experiences but every door you step through in the corridor leads to a new corridor of doors which contain new choices and consequences that lead you closer to the cofn. Dispel all morbid connotations from the word cofn and read it literally and logically because when youre a mortal time doesnt stand still. I guess what Im trying to say is dont spend time carrying and hoarding things you dont need, sure we think we need many things because we think they form a part of us but they dont, theyre just things that slow us down and stagnate our freedom. Think Ive lost myself a little so Ill wrap up by saying Be yourself, be free.

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Ghost.

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All or Nothing?
12/11/2011 As I converge on this train of self discovery I pledge allegiance to the void. The secret order of the unknown for if I nd what it is I know not that I search, all will be revealed. Does one know that which they desire or is one simply on a conveyor belt, journeying through life on a predetermined trail of purpose? Buttery effect or the effects of the unknown? Who knows the answers? A wise man is said to know nothing as knowing nothing means youre living but it is the one who knows all who is dead because death is the only known certainty to man. Do you choose to know nothing or do you choose to know it all? Life or death? All or nothing?

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#12 - A Glass Box

19/11/2011 Lost in syllables, non repetitive dribbles and all manner of elaborate allegorical prose Nothing is ever as straight forward as it seems, nothing is as simple as the 1+1 arithmetic but things are as they may seem unless we spiral deeper into the mechanics of the object in perspective. I think Ive somehow hit a brick wall. I keep on reversing and going straight into it, repeatedly. Ive tried turning a different direction but I seem to end up at the same place. Im not sure how to get over the brick wall but I think that crashing into it repeatedly is not going to bring it down any sooner. It may be time for me to use my wits to defeat this silly wall because Ive tried going around it but its somehow become impenetrable wall of invisibility, such as the one the Israeli State built around the Palestinians on the West Bank. Its annoying. Im stuck in a box which is not like a box sorta box but a glass box where I can see the outside but for some reason I dont have the necessary paperwork to escape this penitentiary.
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Im here but not here if you get what I mean. Im daydreaming and trying to project my spirits elsewhere but nothing cant help or distract me from the actuality that I may be trapped. Theres nowhere to run. Theres nowhere to hide. I should have taken the exit when I had the chance. Maybe I still have a chance. Next weeks window maybe? Time for a little perspective. Ghost.

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#13 - An Empire Perspective

28/11/2011 I could never envisage being away from a wi/3g connection because I was so hooked on blogging, status updating, sharing random picture stuff and general nonsense. Now I nd myself in a foreign place, a few thousand miles from home and I am out of my comfort zone. I have no phone, no connection, no gadgets because I had no foreign adapter to power and reenergize my DSLR and Macbook. I was cut off from everything At least thats what I initially thought, before I realized that the time spent outside of my phone was the time I spent experiencing new things and meeting new people. I had no one bothering me by way of telephone, tweet, text or email. I was nally free. This whole experience has had me thinking that my mobile phone consumes too much of my time, my laptop consumes so much of my time, anything to do with a fucking screen and a computer consumes too much of my time. Its time to change.
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Im not saying that Ill stop using my laptop or my phone but I sure am going to spent less time on it and more time communicating the old fashioned way. Lets face it, a good 65% of people I communicate with arent necessarily people I could necessarily socialize with so Ive decided to take a backseat from platforms such as twitter and facebook to concentrate. Focus. The thing about social networking is that 98% of users arent really networking; theyre using the platform to talk a load of swine. I am far from innocent but Im just saying that its time for a change, its time to focus and get serious because I need to put many things straight no Im not even talking about disputes, theres none that Im even aware of, but Im talking about life and progress. Ghost.

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#14 - 6 Million Stories

28/11/2011 In a city as iconic as New York, everybody has a story. The place is so big that you dont necessarily have to be told a story by the person in question; you automatically become a spectator when you look out of your window at the natives as your car passes. You dont have to sit and talk to someone to know their story, all you have to do is observe because youre imagination starts sewing the thread through every piece of their puzzle: their environment, the way they walk/talk/dress, and their facial expression. Weve seen so many depictions of this iconic city a million times over; The kid walking down the block on his way to the Liquor Store to buy some candy instantly becomes the eldest sibling who has become a young carer as a result of an absent father and a mother addicted to drugs. The same kid who is the top of his class en route to a stellar career in law instantly becomes the kid who caves in to the pressure of his environment by dropping out of college to become the local drug general. This is something that the Big Apple does to all visitors because were so used to the hyperreality often seen on TV, lm, music, and literature. In all honesty I can only speak on my own behalf because I cant help but to become wrapped up in the NYC fantasy, especially on my rst visit.

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The city, the life, and its natives are amazing, beyond all the smoke and the preconceived mirrors is where youll nd six million stories based on actuality so I guess this is a way of me saying that its time for me to remove my hyperrealist lenses.

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#16 - An Empty Jug

9/12/2011 Ive got this urge to write something, I know exactly what it is but I cant seem to nd the words. I know exactly what I want to write but the process of guring out the best way to present it is the issue. Presentation is key. I cant exactly just write something and expect it to end there, nor can I write something and have ten million eyes gaze upon these humble thoughts from the furthest part of the heavens. I wonder how Im going to send this discreetly yet in a personalised manner that the recipient understands? Whats the worst that could happen? It could be intercepted by the wrong recipients and once intercepted the message could become distorted through ltration. I had this plan, this vision, this dream that I keep reliving over and over in my head, every other moment whilst on the move and I cant help but feel Im getting closer.
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What once was therapy is now on the cusp of a profession, only if I become decisive and put a halt to my procrastination. Seems like its time to stop hiding from behind my shadow and live a little in the light.

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#19 - Stuck
20/12/2011 Im laying in bed wondering how Im going to get myself out of this place. Im searching for all feasible possibilities but there doesnt seem to be any concrete escape route. I feel like Im in a rut, I miss the new place I had travelled to because to be there I felt free, I felt so at home even though it was my rst ever trip. The tragic thing about my preliminary is that I didnt do all the things I envisioned. I had this notion that Id go to Tribeca and play Damon Damon some of my songs, hed like them, invite me to extend my stay working with the team and the rest would be history but it didnt quite work out like that. In reality Im sitting on around thirty songs, all of which need to be nished; rerecorded, rearranged, mixed and mastered professionally. Sometimes I wonder whether music is the thing that I want to do with my life but when I look around at my situation, I realise that I know nothing other than to write my life out in lines which happen to rhyme and record them to music. I also feel that the main thing that holds me back is my condence and how other people will interpret it. I dont give a fuck when creating but it seems that Im never truly satised with anything I do. I want to stay lowkey yet I have this star that wants to shine. Dilemma.

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Another problem is nding the right sounds for my stories. I havent quite been able to nd the right sounds for my lyrics when collaborating but when I concoct my own creations they sound far too different which I feel far to conscious about taking to another level because Im just not sure. One underlying problem is my nancial situation and how to fund the completion of my projects because to go to studio is expensive and I want to do it to perfection or not at all. There are cheaper options but I want to ensure its done right. I really want to jump on Logic and record something right now but I have to wake up in ve hours. Maybe my problem lies with there always being a but so from now on therell be no ifs or buts just a done deed. Ghost.

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0056 - 0107: Restless Trains Of Thought

30/01/2012 Crazy how you replay a looped thought around your head to the point of never being able to sleep. My mind is riddled with so much troubles, so much distress and unrest, a few regrets and a whole lot of what ifs, should ofs and could be. Quite strange how particular points of the year I begin to feel muddled, it seems like my brain can never relax because when it knows somethings wrong it send shock wave of resistance to every realm of my existence. I keep saying that something needs to change but something drastic has to happen. I cant keep brushing things to the sides of my desk and expecting my problems to be solved, I need to be proactive and make a bold move somehow. As much as I tell myself to bide my time, the very things I desire move further and further away. I could say itll happen in its own time and if it was meant to be itll be but Ive been saying that and waltzing through life with that frame of mind for far to long. I remember a moment where if I didnt like something Id cut it out but as Ive grown Ive become more soft. Ive somehow trained myself to tolerate the things I dont like and in return have become complacent. Its a scary set of affairs that I need to work my way out of by retraining my mind to think and be in at the total opposite polarity.

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Ive got dreams desires and aspirations but the more I rest on my laurels and not take my gifts seriously because they seem to come so easy will be nothing short of my downfall.

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The Revelation 0144

04/02/2012 Ive just woken out of the weirdest dream. It seemed to address all the mystery and add to the growing list of revelations and epiphanies that have occurred lately. Why this night, why this hour, why this exact moment and roughly around the time before it all went fuzzy? I had a similar dream a few nights ago which felt just as real. The same vision left me with a mixture of euphoria and astonishment when I awoke. Everything felt so real, it was real, just like the vision I had just now. I already seem to know the answer, well not exactly in words but I have a feeling if you get what I mean. The main thing is the rst vision that I had a few nights prior is something that I need to take steps towards, whilst the one I had today was a mixture of what I suddenly noticed on Wednesday, which is a sign to step off and rectify my behaviour.

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Theres been times where Ive arrived at some of these conclusions, which were the total reverse of a hurricane train of existence, after smoking ganja and meditation but to have been enlightened within my dreams is special a very special thing Im touched. Im not sure about the way I feel to many things anymore, Im not sure how Ill begin to put it all into words but after this spate of enlightenment, I know how I feel. Ive got a gut feeling to change my erroneous ways and pursue the path of my heart and the guiding stars rather than the illusion of fanciful passing desires. Ghost. (0157)

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0442 - 0456
9/02/2012 How do we get to the places we get to, is it hard work or destiny? Ive always believed in organic development and progression, some may call it foolish but I believe that for me to be able to do anything, it has to be organic. If it doesnt feel right at that moment, Ill refuse to move. That also goes for suggestions and ideas. If I pitch something to you at a particular moment or I try to contact you to give you an idea and I cant get through, I see that as a sign that its not meant to happen. I have no idea why I feel like that or why I think that way but I believe that decisions construct a future and if in that split second you hesitate and theres no answer, it werent meant to be. Either that or the idea in question was not meant for that particular partnership. As for my abilities within the creative arts, just because I dont shout that I can rap, write, and make music from the rooftops, it doesnt mean that I havent got a tonne of projects that I work on at different times. My creative endeavours are simply a means of expressing myself, if they happen to go somewhere then so be it but at this moment the only people that need to hear, read and see these things are the people who are the subject of my art. For me, my creativity is a very personal thing, its me baring my soul
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so if you ask me what I do or come at me with I hear or I didnt know you could/ were youd be met with a random look like Yea and because its not something I feel I have to broadcast because its simply a way to express myself. Its meditation, a way of releasing personal pent up energy into the universe because if I dont create, if I dont provide an outlet to this energy Id probably explode. Its kinda like if you kept all the carbon dioxide inside, youd die right?

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A Lost Excerpt
28/03/2012 I removed this part of the message because I didnt think it was relevant to the person nor conversation. It gave me a chance to put the last 7days and how Ive been feeling into words. 28th March 2012 (circa 11:45) Life after TS is splendid. I didnt expect it to start happening so fast but its great that I now have time to think, time to reect and allow my thoughts to manifest, time to become inspired, time to execute this inspiration and room in my schedule to take advantage of opportunities within my path. I found that out here I have no excuses as to why anything isnt happening because there are so many opportunities and so many routes to take but whilst in TS the excuse and obstacle was that I was either working or couldnt get time off. A lot of folk think Im crazy for leaving a paid job to start an enterprise from scratch but for me the sacrice was worth far more, it was in pursuit of happiness. Id rather die knowing that I was en route to a dream than stuck conned to a dead end turning grey with every hour that I push my dreams aside. I got to a point in TS where I was asking myself:
1.

Would you say you live life to the fullest?

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2.

If death is lifes only certainty why not live every moment like its your last?

I was asking these philosophical questions whilst on the tting room because a line popped into my head like I write like its my last will and testament but truth is I dont live that way. Why? Because I procrastinate the days away, I never put time into my enterprise so I was never seeing results. The point at which this all changed was when I began to make changes, both within the mind and through lifestyle choices. Better to invest my time into something I love because Ill yield results. As clich as it sounds, I feel my journey has just begun and if I maintain a positive and optimistic outlook and stay open to all opportunities, things will continue to happen (End the positive embarking on a new chapter monologue) Cant exactly wonder why I quit a dead end job to work for myself and build a creative enterprise from scratch can you? Im no fool, nor am I delusional, Im just one man with a vision, one man who has a dream and spends every moment of every day taking steps towards making it happen. Sure itll be a long hard road but I have every ounce of faith that itll work out.

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C H A P T E R 87

Simply Intricate
04/04/2012 Mid conversation something had me thinking but it was evident that it was going to be long and out of context to the current conversation. The rst stanza was the beginning of the conversation, whilst the second stanza onwards takes place when I tried to say the simple thing. Made me think about a lot in the process 02:34 - 03:32 Simple things such as hearing the tone of someones voice and subconsciously reading every one of their non verbal gestures as they speak to you are far more intricate to simulate when reading words from a screen. When words are on a screen, theres no additional evidence to suggest which context the words in which you read are to be said, the screen is much more deceptive. There is no gesticulation, there are no calm reassuring words followed by a warm reassuring cuddle. I long to do the simple things which I cant simulate, the things which I cant translate into words, the simplest things which require a few dictionaries to describe and convey something that may only be a few or a micro second. It may be the way my eyes move
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to the top right corner then to the left, when Im pensive or the way I squint whilst Im talking and thinking of you in the same vein. These are things that require me to be near, these are things which I cant convey through the screen or by telephone. These simple yet intricate, oxymoronic things are the absolute of taking things back to basics. Sure its great to sew together words in a manner that ows like the Nile from its source deep in the heart of Africa to its mouth in the Mediterranean sea but the same words that ow together on paper still need to be orated, oration still needs narration, projection, gesticulation and emotion. All of these factors are different windows which shine a light on the same subject, all are different perspectives from different angles. When combined, it gives the observer an absolute perspective yet Id say just short of absolute because its always unlikely that the author will ever know, consider, or even witness the readers reaction. All the author can do is write in the hope that the recipient receives the message in the correct context once the cork of the bottle oating from across the island of pensive inspiration has been removed and the scroll unravels Ghost.

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0254 - 0321
19/04/2012 Finger tips have been itching for far too long. I feel like a drug addict the way Im clutching this iPhone trying to stop myself from tapping something stupid onto the screens keyboard and sending it over. So many times in the day that Id like to pop up out of nowhere like some jack in the box but its never so easy, you hate surprises, I wouldnt want to be at the receiving end of a blank facial expression and a fabricated gleeful remark. Im neither near or here, Im neither next to you or a place where I can hear. Not that I want to eavesdrop or know exactly whats happening but I seem to think that out of sight and out of mind is the best cure when it isnt, all it does is set me up for one of those shocking encounters when we bump into each other and my tongue ties and I act awkward or I see your picture and freeze like Ive just been shot point blank in the face and had the life and soul seep out of me in slow motion just like the movies. I can picture it now, Ive just seen your picture and as the bullet goes through one temple on the head to the other, I follow the bullet, falling sideways Im slow motion until I fall to the oor with a thump, the same thump that will be the catalyst to me grabbing my phone and trying to articulate this process to my notepad. As the writing playlist plays, all the melancholic sentiments pour out to an accompanying soundtrack. Quadrons Far Cry, a haunting rendition of loneliness begins to play as Ive just put the analogy into words. Its exactly how I feel at the moments in time when I

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fall onto the wooden deck with a thump, blood slowly seeping from the side of my head touching the ow forming a puddle of my deepest and darkest heartache I feel like an addict who got one whiff of the food before it was own overseas. It really isnt fair that when I realised what the magic was, it was too late. Why didnt I ever take notice from the beginning, its one of those things Id always be intrigued by because it never happened with anyone else? Maybe its just you, maybe it was meant to be like that. Maybe you were meant to y away, maybe I was meant to let you go after feeling like this and never knowing what to do because if you ever return to my arms, its meant to be right... Right? Ive always been smitten, I didnt admit it but everyone knew somehow. I always knew deep down but wouldnt let it surface, I read a few signs but I was unsure. I guess I should have went with my instincts, went straight in for the kill, straight for the smooch outside the tube station on that bright afternoon by the river. Im not lled with regrets but much of the time I cant stop thinking of you and it drives me nuts. Im not into anything frivolous and Im way too picky for my own good so once I meet someone amazing like you its hard to move on and consider someone else because it really is a waste of time. Im too old to be thinking of excuses to catch the train back home or lie rst thing in the morning because the previous night was a mistake. Im not young anymore, I know what I want, I know what I like, I know what I need and its you. So maybe I could just be slightly melodramatic and over the top with the romantics but this is a train of thought after all.

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What Do You Call It?

18/04/2012 - 02:01 What do you call it, when your mind scrambles, your heart drops and you gasp every time you see her? Whats that word they use when you see someones picture and youre suspended in awe, you cant take your eyes away, you cant seem to think of anything else for what feels like an hour until your screen goes blank and you realise that youve stared for so long admiring her divine image that the phone has locked automatically? You could be on the other side of the moon, a few oceans and a hemisphere away or sitting inside my bosom dancing around the thoughts of my brain. I could close my eyes and recall every facial expression from every moment we got close, for every bit of the closeness where it only took one subtle gesture to reach a tipping point. Maybe a slight dilation of the eyes, maybe a slight movement of the lips or subtle physical contact. I wonder whether it would have been better to step inside the perimeter of your personal space, not to invade nor conquer, but to connect. Maybe I missed the signs, maybe I took a wrong turn, maybe I didnt give any signs for fear theyd never be reciprocated, maybe you felt the same, maybe, maybe, just saying and thinking maybe wont
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change a thing because youre far away on an island all alone, probably being comforted by the natives or a castaway. If only I could swim, Id probably play Jonah and stow away inside a whale to hitchhike to your island out in the middle of Atlantis. The only thing left is that special thing, you know the thing, that thing that used to happen when we had our warm embraces, the chemistry, a spark, magic With each day youre away, my heart grows fonder, I can sense the light dimming. If only I could nd a way to spend time with you, if only I could rebuild the candle and make it burn brighter, illuminating this little shack forever. Ive got no matches, lighter nor relling uid to spark it myself, I need to take a trip to the source and replenish my supplies to survive. Itll take me years to wander 10,597 miles and by the time I arrive you may have already returned home. How will I ever survive a 10,597 trek through barren lands, how will I cross sand dunes covering the kingdoms that time forgot with insufcient water, food and fuel supplies? Maybe I need to make the trip one grain at a time, taking the risk to cross your path again Ghost. (02:20 am)

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Sell Her A Dream

27/08/2012 - 03:04 Relationships are fucked up. Whether you're in one ofcially or unofcially, there's a chain that binds two people together indenitely. It could be a series of experiences, it could be trauma, it could be the fear of being left with nothing after letting go. A fucked relationship is being in a predicament where you're scared to step out of the cycle of repetition, it's the fear of meeting someone new because youre so set in your ways as old habits die hard. I know a few women who are bound to a former lover with an invisible rope because they're scared to move on. In some cases they're trapped inside a comfort zone or circumstances beyond their control. It's heartbreaking to witness one persons fear, another's selshness and someone else's comfort zone putting a halt to all future happiness because regardless of what happens all three seem to run back to the place they seem to be running from. They're afraid to dream, contempt in living a grey existence. Who am I to judge? I'm just a guy who's met all three at different times, sold them a dream and asked them to roll the dice. A few took the chance and lost to old habits, one took a leap of faith and fell straight into a safety net, whilst someone else was too fearful to see the outcome and walked away from the table. Sometime we think we know what we want yet
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want the total opposite. We want things to change yet miss the ways of old once we upgrade. Dreaming and reality are both different from actuality, being brave enough to go after what you want and what will make you happy at all costs make you courageous or selfish. Either way, being fearful leads to regret, contempt leads to resentment and old habits always die hard. If I've learnt something in the past few years or throughout my time dating women, it will be that selling someone a dream is a temporary x, it's a temporary illusion, a distraction from their current limbo of a purgatory relationship status. I think what I'm trying to say is, when you notice how much time is spent talking about the past relationship, when every conversational road and experience leads to its roots in a past purgatorlimbonic relationship, excuse yourself from the table and continue your journey into the sunset... Ghost.

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The Chair
27/08/2012 - 11:05 As much as you'd love to say something to someone, the prospect of instantly becoming their relationship coach, psychiatrist, counsellor or subject of their interrogation to get to the route of why you observe them in a particular light makes ignoring calls, messages and voicemails easy. Maybe enticing is the word I'm looking for because ignoring telephone calls, texts and voicemails is so 2007. It also makes someone hate you, breaks their heart because they've been abandoned and makes you look like a bad guy because you didn't want to get your hands dirty and tell the truth. Had you told the truth, maybe she would have been able to confront her commitment and insecurity issues, maybe she'd be in an even happier place rather than sliding from bed to bed, pre date and post sex pre 'ofcial' relationship limbo. Sometimes we know not the error of our actions as youngsters. We know not how one thing could make someone feel miniature. It could be the facial expression to a pair of footwear she thought were cute, Sketchers, but you thought were totally wrong. It could be her realising that the only reason why you insisted on trying to x that particular girl with that particular friend was because you wanted to get to the friend and couldn't because you made the mistake of getting with the girl who would eventually wear a pair of Sketchers. My point is, all these thing add to a persons subconscious insecurities.

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It's not about becoming the chair for someone to sit in and examine themselves but the prospect of becoming the villain because one doesn't want to tell the truth is far more sillier. Ignorance doesn't really solve the problem but eats you and them up in similar fashion. You could long it out with the prospect of an encounter but what's the point? It's just a cycle of hopes that'll eventually be crushed because your heart isnt really into it. It's a waste of time and energy. If you think about it, telling someone the truth will get you a 'why?' and then you explain, it'll take ve to ten minutes max and depends on whether they try to examine the situation through interrogation rather than accepting what it is and moving on to reect on a personal level. If this process takes a matter of minutes, why do so many people choose to avoid it in favour of something that could potentially go on for a lifetime and affect someone's future without even knowing it? It's kinda fucked up when you think about it. The chair or the villain? To become the villain in this case won't seem out of character because it was always expected. Becoming the chair may involve a few white lies because a majority of people can't just lay the truth down and walk away, they witness the other persons reaction and start diluting it which eventually leads to backtracking and getting sucked back in. The third and often overlooked or not spoken of solution is to allow it to zzle out on its own. Sometimes it just weren't meant to be. Schedules no longer align, texts and calls aren't returned on time and you just part ways. However the third and unspoken option only works if someone isn't so desperate and needy, so you've got to know who you're working with beforehand. If said individual is in a purgalimbonic relationship where they're trying to escape at all costs they'll constantly be trying to contact you, twenty-four seven, like a Chihuahua biting your ankles for your attention. This case has dreams of
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being a princess, dreams of being in a 'proper' relationship with 'regular' sex rather than being tied to a depressed ex with no family or friends who's scared to have sex and hasn't fucked her since they were together, all of which she can count on one hand. These are the ones you have to be careful of because they get caught up in 50 Shades of Grey to escape from their situation. Specics and observations aside, my advice to you is to tell the truth, tell it like it is. You'll only be the chair for a few minutes, you don't have to stick around whilst they cry, you've gotta stay strong and avoid backtracking. You can't make someone's fairy tale come to life if they're still chained mentally and physically to someone else, go and seek your own fairy tale... Invest your energy wisely.

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C H A P T E R 92

Switch Dismantled
03/09/2012 - 05:19 I'm not really into pretending anymore. I just can't do it. Life's too short to worry about they're up to and what they think. Over the course of a few months I've reevaluated my existence, I've separated things into categories, I've written a plan of action and I've become much more fearless and proactive. Another thing I've noticed is my honesty has triumphed over everything else. Rather than try to be diplomatic, rather than exercise patience, I've decided that honesty is usually efcient. Honesty is simple but complex because telling the truth will keep you out of so much trouble. You've got to be truthful to yourself before everything else and that means trusting yourself. There isnt any point making promises you can't keep, returning calls that you'd rather not, give out the wrong signals because you were trying to be polite and being courteous. Truth is, life is what you make it and if you spend your time pussyfooting and scared to be honest with people, you'll lose all respect for yourself and you'll never be taken seriously. Being honest and truthful means being that way from the get go, don't entertain someone's fairy tale fantasies if your heart isn't in it because you'll end up breaking hearts. Don't feel bad or guilty for making a decision that you thought was right even if you're
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made to feel that way by observing the other persons reaction. Sometimes it's good to play 52 face down but it's always great to play the honest way. There's no honour among thieves and the deceitful. There's a switch inside of all of us that we push, to cut all the bullshit and fakery. Some of us opt to use a spam lter, others do so with tolerance but I chose to dismantle switch, the lter and tolerance in favour of being honest with myself. I have no time for bullshit, fakery and spam. I won't condone none of it so if you've noticed the lights and heating have been cut off and you're muddling around in a cold, dark and empty room, blame on the dismantled switch in favor of honesty.

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C H A P T E R 93

Newness
13/09/2012 - 03:16 It gets to a point in your life when you need a new playlist. You need new music, a new vibe and new inspiration. You need new clothes, a new hairstyle, new books and new shoes, all to match your new situation, your new perspective, new challenges, new knowledge and a newer more rened way to live life. Gone are the days that the old playlists represented, now are the days that the new playlists must represent aspiration, excitement, new prospects, opportunities and people. All the tracks in your playlists have been played out, you've heard them a million times before and you've outgrown them. The music no longer suits the way you operate and what's to come, it no longer represents or inspires how you feel when you wear a particular outt because you've discovered a new way to wear your clothes. New outts, old clothes, new combinations... As the harvest season transpires into the fallen leaves of autumn, you begin to reect. Gone will be the life, ideas and paradigms of old, today marks a shift in operation. As the tides greet a new moon so shall you.

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C H A P T E R 94

The Empty Apartment

13/09/2012 - 06:25 What happens when lovers become strangers? What happens when stars no longer align in the same cluster? It's weird to think that someone you spoke with near enough every waking hour of the day is virtually a stranger. You no longer wake to the good mornings or I love you's, there's no more emoticons, random xox's or thinking about you's, it just becomes the norm. Text messages have been replaced by snooze buttons on the alarm clocks, I love you's become missed calls, thinking about yous become unreturned and unchecked voicemails, headspace that was once inhabited by your lover is now derelict awaiting the arrival of its new tenant. Landlords don't keep in touch with old tenants so why dwell on an old resident, you can't exactly expect them to come back to the city just to visit old haunts and empty places covered in a dust of long forgotten memories. There's no nostalgia when the only thing that exists in that empty apartment are broken mirrors which were smashed to put a stop to the dark cycle of projection, anxiety and delusion. I see no point in going back to old houses, the neighbourhoods or communities because I'm on the road discovering new things.

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The aim is to have the ranch in the middle of nowhere, somewhere beautiful surrounded by natural splendour where I can live off the land. The city, the old apartment only has sentiments of missed opportunities and broken dreams. I can envision smashed mirrors, faulty electrics and a noisy neighbourhood. I opted to travel, escape the city to discover myself. I weren't ready to commit to buying an apartment, there was too much history at the address, I went in search of something more to my liking. I required a garden, a few acres of space to grow vegetation, woodland to stroll through, a mountain retreat to gain perspective and a beach where I could sail into the horizon if need be. Empty apartments and islands, mansions and maisonettes, camper vans, hostels and wanderers... Story of my existence.

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C H A P T E R 95

In Your Face?
19/09/2012 - 03:10 Hard as it is to say I love you and genuinely mean it, there was a time or several when I wanted to say it and if I did I would have meant it. It could have led to a spiral into being besotted with you. It was kinda like that although I feel like if I had said it out loud, it would have been the three nails in my cofn. If I said it you probably would have been freaked out, not known what to say, I would have felt kinda silly at the bleak prospects of an unreciprocated love and you would have taken off in your spaceship to escape the awkwardness rather than explore outta space. If I had said it much earlier, if I had made more of an effort to make it known, if I had known exactly what it was, maybe I wouldn't be up so late thinking about it and wondering how different things may have been. Maybe it was a high level of admiration, maybe it was the prospect of you no longer being here, maybe I realised how much time I wasted elsewhere and what might of taken place if I had focused. The thing is, I drift in and out of you. I really feel for you but I don't know exactly what it is. I'm at a distance observing, could say that I'm waiting for us to align so when I choose to disclose the specics of what I feel for you, it'll be met with a reciprocation. Either that or deep down I know that it's not meant to be you. Maybe I admire you on a level where I'd love to have all of your traits in a lover but as far as me and you, it's not meant to be like that, we're only meant to be cool...
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Who knows? Being single is stress free, it's a comfort zone of having peace of mind, it's a place where nothing other than your interests occupy your headspace but who doesn't want to wake up and go to bed with a kiss and cuddle every night? Who wouldn't like to have a condante to tell all their fears, aspirations and deep dark secrets with? I think there was a time where I thought I had that but it was never the ideal situation, the foundations weren't strong enough to build a relationship so we parted ways. Besides there's only so many times that the same cycle of events can reoccur before you get fed up of ghting a losing battle. I almost feel like being decisive and making the choice that's best and progressive for you is often mistaken with giving up on another person, abandonment or no longer caring. The actuality is that if a situation is not progressive in any shape or form, walk away because the more time you spend spiralling and going round in circles is the time you miss out on a wonderful opportunity to be elsewhere enjoying the sunshine as opposed to being under an indifferent cloud of storms. I'd say to never make decisions based on obligation, make honest decisions based on how your heart feels, and even in the face of tears, guilt and pity, do not backtrack. Once you backtrack you're trapped until the next open window where a departure is offered on a plate. There's nothing calculating about this process, it's just knowing when something isn't right for you and departing before any of this takes place. Maybe if I didn't had all of this to deal with, I could have had a few angels in my arms although the angels I had in mind were in the arms of others and at the periods where there were windows of opportunities, they were on the rebound so maybe I wouldn't have been in a better predicament rst...
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Crazy how you can sew a thread so easily afterwards and come to a conclusion as if it were nothing. After three years of exploration, I'm no closer to nding 'the one.' There were a few times where I irted with that prospect. There were times where I honed my skills with that prospect. There were times when I experimented with it and there were times where I wondered whether there is such a thing. When these seven years are up, I may make a move, who knows? Guess I've got a few more years yet... Maybe I'll meet whoever it is because somehow I doubt that it'll be who I initially thought it was going to be, or I could be wrong and it may have been in front of my eyes all along. It's never quite in front of your face but the prospects are kind of there for the taking, whether you see them at the time or not, it's likely that they arise eventually...

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C H A P T E R 96

Im On The Edge
c. 20th-26th September 2012 The moment I touch this keypad with my ngertips will be the moment where I begin to fall out of the clouds into a pair of caring arms. The moment I let go is the moment that the words adjust themselves to say all the things that I'd rather hide from saying out aloud, it's also the moment where the fate of such fanciful advances become written, prophetic, deemed to happen. I may not divulge nor disclose information but how long can my thoughts remain intact? If I've began to see what looks like sprouts of fanciful desires shooting up through the fertile soil, it means that the seeds have already been sewn. The more sentences of elaborate allegory is the more I feel myself slipping into the whirlpool to become a prisoner of my fanciful desires, the kind that have been locked away in a secure chest, deep within the forest of the farthest uninhibited and unchartered islands of my current disposition.Fragments lay scattered across the shore from the last time the chest had left itself wide open for a marauder to take what they could before burning the rest to ashes. Steeped in contaminated sands the fragments formed what you see...

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C H A P T E R 97

2323
c. 9th October 2012 (2323-2343) Charming - The only word to describe such amazing character. Smitten to the degree that I can't seem to think of anything else but you... There's no 52 face down, no poker face, snakes or ladders, there isn't even a shake, rattle and roll of the dice. I know what's happening, I know why and I'm just going to cruise along with you in the hope that we arrive at a paradise isle where there's nothing but sun, sea and each other. I've never been much of a cynic deep down, that was always a front, my optimism always shone through the cloak but there's none of that with you. No croupier at the table, no chips, no spin of the wheel, no bartender or dry martinis, just me and what feels like the start of therst chapter of the greatest book I'll ever write. This novel will remain unnished, volume upon volume of adventurous romance, laughter and smiles. There's no muse, no participant observation, no frivolous wording with no substance, no pretend or routinery, just honest sincere integrity. You crept inside my mind like the beautiful sun of the morning, tip toeing behind and covering the eyes of the moon, you were a pleasant and warm surprise.
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No more waiting in vain on a hilltop beneath the stars for an answer to sail off into the moonlight. No more blowing kisses blindly into the darkness in the hope they aren't intercepted by those wandering aimlessly alone and destitute. No more false or forced starts, this is nothing but organic. No pollutants, additives or pesticides, just the right amount of nurturing and nutrition to allow pleasant and timely blossoming of owers and a lifetime of fruitful harvests.

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C H A P T E R 98

2322
16/10/2012 - 12:36 We spend so much of our time in forward motion with our heads turnt slightly backwards that we never tend to realise where we are going. Instead of dwelling on a past life and broken dreams wouldn't it be better if we were to focus on everything that is in front, the oncoming trafc, the road and opportunities that lie ahead? Maybe all the time spent in reservation, away from the rest of humanity hinders progress, stunting growth and the prosperity of relationships. There seems to be a growing distance between what I knew and what I now know, the things I'd prepared to improve once the opportunities had come back around have now been long forgotten. At this point I can honestly say that I've let go of 98% of insecurities. Time which was once wasted on dwelling on what's about to take place, the what ifs, the procrastinaries, is now spent on the moment. Nothing in life is ever promised, not even death as a memory in someone's mind continually passed on will last forever, but a sentiment planted in the heart of another will last for several eternities.

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I guess the point of this is to remind myself that all things are possible and the way to accomplish these things is to believe. Dream and imagine without boundaries but put in the hard work and investment into making it an actuality.

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C H A P T E R 99

The Winter Sun

30/11/2012 - 09:41 I haven't seen a morning like this in such a long time. As much as I detest the temperature, there's something about the winter sun that I love. Maybe it's the fresh light of the morning, maybe it's because I don't have the urge to get out of my duvet and sit on a bench overlooking the Thames admiring the sights from One Tree Hill, whilst I soak up the sun. Maybe I lay here admiring the beauty of the winter sun rays shining through my bedroom curtains, wrapped up in my duvet, wondering why I cant share this moment with you. I miss you lots xxx Love Khalid

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