Wednesday, November 11, 2009

The real Natas The real Truth

Sam thinks he can fool you. He tries to hide facts and figures behind truths barely beyond things that are lies. He is weak. Don't let him mislead you. The real truth is that I am as much a part of him, as he is himself. A symbiotic being that cannot survice without me.

shut up are a cancer I am ridding form my soul.

You do not belong in this. I have been with you since you were nine years old...wondering why you liked the song in the jukebox at the hospital. Whether you think I am a poison, or a cynical side I am real you fool!
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Natas cheated. Or am I lost. I wrote pages and he deleted them...or did I do it on accident or fear. I don't know...I am lost in the whirlwind? Will I keep on writing and have it deleted lost for eternity? Cars rush by my feels like time slipping by. I don't know if it is Natas or me speaking now...I swear Natas and me were fighting. A verbal debate that went deep and philosphical...and it dissapeared in a stint of accidental deletion. Is it fate? Is it Natas? Is it Stupidity? My mind the traffic that flows by my house.

I have drank an entire bottle of brandy Natas. I am not myself. Do your worst...people will understnd.

Who do you think I am? People see what they want to see. They see another lost soul. Another fool. Another joe...lost in the whirlwind. (Don't try to win...I will delete it and start again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Maybe you have won. I am scared to write...confused to think. Giving up seems like a soft bed to fall into, and loose myself to an eternity of comfort.

Nice try bitch. People won't like you just because you try to reach them on a level of hardship. They will feel for you...they will like you because they emphasize, but they will go with whoever they feel is strong.

I know if I fight too hard you will just delete what I write Natas...your power is strong right now. But you aren't always right.

But I am the easiest. And as luck would have and your fellow bastards indulge me and feed me whether they want to or not. They travel down the gravitational path that is easiest...just like water. Fucking weak fools.

This argument will be made when I am the power of something else behind me...I swear it.

We will see.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009


Well, here I am. I will not lie...I have been drinking. Some say there is truth in drinking...others say their is nothing but a lie. i think the truth is what it usually is...something in between. I have been a happy drunk orchestrating a party. I have been angry...picking fights and punching holes in walls and peoples faces. So I have to ask myself...why I am I drinking now? Is it absolute boredom and anger at the ridiculous world around me? Or is it an inner struggle with insanity inside myself? Probably like most things a slate of grey...a war I am fighting with myself and the world. I see commercials, I see movies that placate our inner wanted needs and desires, and I tell them to go fuck themselves while I fight the need to secretly want it.

It's probably why I have always felt like marketing is evil. Some people have gifts to see the social threads that tie us together. It is like a loose ball of string that weaves and meanders though crazy paths and trajectories. Some of us see it, and sell our vision for profit and gain. Maybe everyone has a price. I probably do too. I wouldn't even be writing this if my roomie wouldn't have caught me.

I felt bad. I felt weak. I felt lazy. I didn't want to have to rationalize or deal with the reality of my life and situation. I didn't want to have to think...or feel. I was tired of advertisements of therapeutic beds,ab crunchers, and diet pills. I was sick to death of snuggies and taxes. I didn't want to look at my feelings, of what I wanted or had to see. I wanted to escape.

And yet she came..."none the less". A biblical phrase...from a translation I have read. Maybe I am a nameless street preacher footsteps away from being hauled away from the police. Yet, I mock them, and enjoy watching video's on youtube of them being hauled away or ridiculed, or seeing beer bottles hurled in their direction. I wrote once that "artists and philosophers calm the madness to think. I don't know...I guess so, life is labyrinth with it's high's and it's lows". I feel it is madness right now. A whirlwind of thought and anger and drunken ranting, that no one finds funny. It scares them, or makes them agitated and angry. Sometimes that is what I want. To cause a whirlwind of chaos and destruction wherever I walk. I call this side of me "Natas". As a Gemini I am of dual nature...but as Natas I don't believe in this shit right now.==Natas is in control now== I see the evil of humanity, I see the stupidity. I see the side that you try to hide as you look in the bathroom mirror before embarking into the world. I see what you hate for others to see. The side that you are ashamed of. Because i am ashamed of myself.

Humans...what loathsome creatures. You cry and you whine of your lot in you rape and pillage the world around you. Hypocrites and bastard children you are. Oliver twist, and expect riches from your hardship...fuck you. Fastfood generation throw me into a welfare-state of mind. You feed on your modern day gladiatorial games in glee. Indulging your minds in gluttony and feast. Love your celebrities and love your "reality" tv as you flee from real in your own life you foolish weak mortals. I am Natas and I will control this being. You will listen to me. Their is no point to your insignificant lives...their is no point to your existence. Give up on your dreams and wants...fuck you and your pitiful wants.

===This is Sam...I am back. I was weak. I drank...a lot. I wanted to calm the think. But I think I was secretly fearing the answers. I was scared about where my life was supposed to go. I was hurting from what I wanted, and what I got. Oh god that exists...I was wanting, needing, feeling, fearing, scared...please help me.
I Don't know if god has answered me...maybe I am a misfit a freak and runt. Maybe I am supposed to take medication and fall into the world of numb. I don't think so. I have puked into the toilet of despair, and saw the bile of my creation. Maybe my ideals and hopes cling tenaciously to the sides of an old bucket puked in. At my worst times and at the best life exists.

I saw the stars tonight. This was sober. I saw the stars in most of their reminded me of colorado...when I saw them clear and bright. It reminded me of young dreams and ideals. It reminded me of purity and how I have become jaded. It reminded me of what I felt inside...what I knew was right.

Shut up you weak fool. Give me control, and give up on what you cannot hope to rule. I am the absolute power...I am the god. You cannnot hope to control, what you cannot understand.

I know what I am Natas. You are a part of me, as you always will be. But the power you have over me to hate what I fear...and feed what I fear will always be under my control. Maybe at times I will become weak. There will be moments where you will gain a sembalnce of control that you will try to blow into large proportions. But the truth is you are a lie, a fear, and a nightmare. You are only what I fear is...not what truly have lost the war...although you have gained roads in a villionus patient bastard.

Hahahahaha...I am always waiting you fool. Humans are always will never be rid of me.

Maybe so. But I am not alone. No matter how many times I fail. No mattter how many times I am lost, or feel I am wrong. Their is something more powerful then you that wants me to be ok...that wants me to be happy. You will not win.

Hahahahaha...we will see young samuel. We will see.

We will see. I don't know who is writing this at this moment. Maybe this is the gray. We are all at war with ourselves my friends. It doesn't matter what we believe. We are at war. Fight, fight, fight...and fight. The war will never be over, but that is no cause for despair. We are human beings. That means that we have great strength and beauty...and corruption and despair. But in the end...we are beautiful, we are courageous, don't ever forget it.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Soul Sickness and Faith

I've been talking to a man that says his soul is sick. He said that himself, and many others suffered from it, making them do massive amounts of drugs, and basically become deplorable pieces of shit. He told me I share the same sickness, and maybe he's right. I know my soul used to be very sick indeed. I like to think that I have been doing a lot of healing, but sometimes I have doubts if I am going anywhere at all.
For the record, I don't think my soul is sick, I feel like I am merely at war. A war to keep from being ill, or at times keeping the illness from spreading. It is a constant battle with demons, inner and external. A negative spirit that exists or I feed during times of weakness. Due to my epic ability to lie to myself, I have to stay on my toes if I want to stay/get better. I don't believe self improvement is masturbation, and I think being optimistic isn't foolish.
I read a book called the secret, and I believe a lot of it. On the quantum level human beings are energy. Our minds are unfathomably powerful and mysterious, who is to say that we cannot alter certain threads of fate or even create them. I think our perceptions make our reality. Our mythos have filtered our conception of the creator into god, allah, buddah, or aliens from space. The power of religion to affect people whether it is benevolent or malignant is undeniable. Our minds dictate our reality. We have the power to be happy, sad, scared, sacred or content with life. Not to say that it doesn't take extreme effort...constant diligence even.
My biggest problem with faith and spirituality is the intangible nature of it. I believe in a creator of some kind, and most of the time I believe he has a plan which involves our well being. I think we have immortal souls created by him that inhabit these corporal forms of ours, that may have lived numerous lives before. But herein lies the problem. It all comes down to feelings. I don't know about you, but often my feelings have lead me astray. I like facts and figures. Abstract concepts about faith and spirituality can never be published in Popular Science. How do I know I am right? Why I have I felt like I am being cared for by a power that is intense and undeniable, and yet other times I feel as if nothing is there? My mind doubts. I wonder if faith is merely a myth and a superstition. That I am a fool for believing that I will end up as anything other then worm food when my life has ended.
No matter how great these doubts become, a kernel of me always believes. I still have some faith. The moments in my life where I have felt a divine influence have been too many to disregard, and their affect on me stays. I cannot believe that human beings are nothing but animals, we are far too special for that. Our ability to create and destroy, to love and to hate, is unmatched on any level. We are wondrous and beautiful beings with a multitude of purposes, creating tendrils in the web of fate, spanning into the infinite.
Maybe I do have a soul sickness. A virus that grows in me at times. It makes me doubt myself, and others around me. It filters my perception so all I can see is the sadness and despair. I keep a critical eye on myself, and all those around me. I see their pettiness and stupidity, and my heart feels like a rotten stone. I don't know what it is that makes me get this way. I don't know how I can go from all zen, to a complete hater. I've been this way most of my life, but I don't think I have to be. How we were raised and our past habits influence us, but they do not define us. We have the power to be whatever we want to be, and that is something I never doubt. We just have to keep fighting our demons whatever they may be. We are far more beautiful then odious, and our souls are a sight more healthy then sick. We just have to keep the faith, no matter what we believe in.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Life, Choices and Clichés

All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full. To the place the streams come from, there they return again. All things are wearisome, more than one can say. The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.

And further, by these, my son, be admonished: of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.

Between Solomon and Ecclesiastes I felt for the first twenty-one years of my life that the things I loved was pointless. Eventually it came to a point where I had that view about my life and struggled for the will to live. Sometimes I cynically refer to those times as my 21 year coma, but it wasn't. Fate exists in it's shape and form, and my life and the things I have experienced have happened as they should.

My problem was that I was trained to view these scriptures literally. The bible is a very wise, and spiritual set of books, like many other holy writings, but should be viewed like all the others. They are books written by men...and men are regrettably fallible. When I say this to stalwart friends of particular faiths they always ask me the same question. "So you don't believe the bible was written by God?" No...I do not. But I do believe our creator was an inspiration to these authors, whether it is the bible, the qu'ran, the vedas, the avesta, and many books of spiritual origin. By our natures, human beings will always see things in different ways, it is our inclination. That is why each one of these books, has multiple interpretations. Personally, I am glad for it. To quote William Cowper, "Variety is the spice of life, that gives it all it's flavor."

But back to cliche's. At twenty-one I was living as numb as possible. If I wasn't working, I was spending my time alone in my home hiding from the world, and myself. The blinds were drawn as I slept all day, with only my movies,books, and constant eating to keep me company at night. The nature of my religion had strict policies on drugs and association with people outside my faith, so I unsuccessfully attempted to live in a middle ground. Ironically scared of losing my family, which had already slipped away. I did my best not to think, or feel, feeling out of options in my prison of the mind fucked.

As fate would have it though, I found just the right catalyst I needed for the difficult decision I had been putting off for so long. A man who would turn out to be one of my best friends. Someone who had lived a childhood raised in the same religion as me, but had left it to live his own life. We talked for hours while the drudgery of work passed by unnoticed. He was amazed to met somebody like me working in the facotry, and I was equally astonished. We mostly just talked about our love for books, and the many books we had read. Literature being the love of my life, I couldn't help but admire him. I even told him something I hadn't told myself in years. I always wanted to be a writer. I started telling him all these idea's I had for books, and it was like a dam had broke in my soul, and all this energy and strength came pouring out. I no longer felt like I was dying every day. I had more will to live then I knew what to do with. There were no cliche's! I had a myriad of options. I could do anything, get to know anyone, I had no rules except my own. I was free. I wrote everyday for hours. At work, at home, even writing at bars(for the first time)and getting to know people from all walks of life. To do these things, I was shunned from all my family and friends I have ever known. They would no longer talk to me, look at me, or acknowledge my existence from that day on. But that was just a necessary evil. For the first in a long time...maybe even ever...I was living. I started smoking ciggerates, drinking, and enjoyed the ganja. Everything I did was a self affirmation of life.

But over the course of time something happened. All the people I met seemed small and lost. They let me down and disappointed me. My days started feeling the same, and my depression came back even worse then before. Without the support of my parents to bail me out in times of trouble, and the inexperience from learning to live for the first time in that big world with no rules I made a lot of bad mistakes. I eventually quit writing. I started drinking a lot, and doing other things that I had never done before. Anything to feel better. Anything to keep me from missing my family, which had become a source of unimaginable pain. My journey of life that I had set out on, was now a sad thing, with a sad and lonely person. I quit showing people anything I had wrote, because they always had a comment how it reminded them of someone else's work or movie. I quit going to parties, because it just felt like the same thing over and over. I quit talking to my friends, because it was as if I had that conversation over infinity in purgatory. I rarely prayed at all...only praying when I was on the verge of losing my mind. I felt trapped again. I couldn't go back and live a lie...and my life had become unbearable. What was I supposed to do now that there was nothing new?

Looking back I realize that I had a lot of people that cared for me. Good friends that were worried and helped me out. I will never forget how I ended up in the situation I did, or the things I learned that I never had to think about before. There were times, when I lay huddled on steps, trying to stay warm, trying to sleep before going to work, where I looked at life in ways I never could have come to. Some of the places I went were...horrible. Crack houses where I had to constantly wear my shoes, because there was needles on the floor. There was a place I stayed at once, where the toilet hadn't been working in three weeks, and shit was filled to the brim and dripping down the sides. Some of the few things I had left were stolen there. It wasn't from the guy that let me crash at his crib, but it still felt like a slap in face. That was were my prayer crystal was stolen. I didn't pray much after that, and still don't pray as much as I used to. Not all the places I stayed at were bad though, but it is human nature to focus on the bad, and those bad things stayed in my heart poisoning me for quite a while.

I never stopped fighting, and eventually the poison left. Maybe I prayed in those times and the times that followed more then I think I did. With all the ups and downs, I always found the strength to keep on struggling. I kept working and fighting to rise up from the ashes like the proverbial phoenix. As fate would have it, I met up with my friend from the factory. At the time I was on the verge of being homeless yet again. He let me into his home, and I lived for a time as "the guy on the couch". We had both been through a lot...we had both learned a lot. Our friendship growing again into something more meaningful from our experiences. We eventually got a place where the couch was just an option. I now know what real friendship is, and what it means to me in scales of importance. I have an understanding about life, and the pitfalls that I am susceptible to, whether it is a trap of my own mind or not.

The funny thing is, even though I have attained what I have been fighting for, and wanting for over two years, I still feel the tendrils of cliche touching tentatively at me, and at times trying to pierce my heart. Sometimes I look at what I have and find it lacking. The reality is that it is beautiful and precious. You cannot put a price on people that genuinely care about you, on friends that are heartfelt and honest. Will they let me down sometimes...of course. Just as I will them. A small price to pay I think, to no longer be alone on my yellow submarine. I try to be happy with what I have, and most of the time I am. The other things I need will be taken care of, and the other things I want may or may not happen. I guess these days, I take an adage from Samuel Goldwyn, "Let's have some new cliches!". I choose to live a good life, and be thankful for the things I have, and will experience. I choose not to let the bad things get me down. I choose to be a good friend, and be a good friend in turn. I choose to love life for what it is, and not what I want it to be. I choose contentment.