Britain’s Guilt

I read this morning that over 250,000 people in Britain have died from the cold since 2003.  The story was in connection to the constant rising costs of energy prices.  It made me wonder, is Britain paying the price in lives for its 300 year empire.  Do we or should I say does the government and Whitehall still believe we have to save the world.  Does Britain feel guilty?

You know what Britain reminds me of, one of those idiotic family men they sometimes show in TV dramas.  They used to have a great job or own a large company; they have a wife, two kids, two cars, and a dog.  Then they lose everything, generally we enter the story at this point the guy is pretending to go to his job, taking the kids to school.  He then has a heart attack, goes crazy, or just sits on a park bench.  He might even just continue to go back and forth deceiving his family for a while.  His wife and kids love spending money as if it’s going out of fashion, and he dutifully smiles and continues to pay, he maxes out his credit cards, takes out loans sometimes from nasty loan sharks.  The family still go on holidays, and he just pretends as if nothing has changed.

However, everything has changed, he has lost his company, he has re-mortgaged his home, he has no savings left, and has debt through the roof.  Then finally, like a house of cards, it all collapses, and his lies and self-deception become apparent. 

Britain is like that; the once rich bloke that has lost everything, but is still trying to keep up appearances, still trying to be something it is not anymore.

We need to wake up and realise we are not a major player in the world, we cannot afford to be, we are too small, too insignificant.  If we continue to try to be this great protector, it will destroy us.  We are just a small island off the coast of France.  We had our time in the sun and now the sun has set.  If we do not realise this soon, well, we all know what happens to the guy in these types of dramas.

Being Bipolar – Depressed and Manic

Destroy my life, destroy my soul, let me weep in the corner, lost in the shadows.  Let me curl up into a black hole, to suffer the indignity of my existence.  Can life be a melancholic maelstrom of condemnation?  Is it always this cruel?  The mind it plays malevolent tricks forcing one to self-deceive, never to conceive of the actuality of the existence of a problem.  When a problem is obvious to the host, clear yet blurred, obfuscating the truth, until the truth is washed away.  Only bare stones and jagged rocks lie there, left alone.  The walls are closing in; darkness is descending faster than dusk in winter.  No strength to fight back.  Perhaps the feeling of an impending inner doom clouds judgement.  How can one feel happiness, when one only feels shame and suffering?  How can one feel tenderness and care when one only knows pain and misery?  I am worthless, pointless, useless, let me lie here in the corner, out the way. Deal with it some may say.  Do not give in.  Be positive and try to see the bright side.  Try as I may, the more I want to feel positive and happy, the more I feel life slipping away.  Dire thoughts full of pain.  The more I try to find peace and goodness, the harder it is to find.  The Armageddon is on its way, it is the size of a death star and it is about to slam straight into my mind.  The molten mess; the blood; the last breath; the sense of impending doom;  that something better is never going to happen in this corrupt, depraved, miserable, world.  This world is not for me.  For however I try to please, to enjoy, to understand, I am always wrong.

Fly like a bird; let me feel the breath of greatness on my soul.  You cannot control me; I am above reality, beyond culpability.  Extremely excited, my mind is full of amazing ideas and concepts, they are breaking out faster than bombs falling on Dresden.  I am GOD, the one, the only living entity that can see and know.  Nitrous Oxide ignites inside me.  Oh, my pleasure sensors are racing, I feel alive, and I want to spread my wonder around so everyone can feel as I do.  Can you feel it, well, can you?  Can you rise up like a phoenix, burning with desire; I want what I want and I will get it.  No one can stop me.  Brace yourself for the surge of greatness.  Do you want what I have?  It is so amazing.  Perhaps if you are really nice.  I’ll keep on misbehaving.  Go on let me continue; don’t try to stop me, for I will not allow you to take away my enjoyment, my happiness, my pleasure.  Gold and light, shines down, blessing the world, at least it does in my world, in my cocoon, in my happy place.  I am right and never wrong, I am bright and I am strong.  I can do anything and I will show the world.  I can even sing, haha.  Do you understand I will tell you all for free?  This is what it’s like to be wonderfully happy.

Stupid, crappy and dull

If the mad ones were the sane ones,

And the sane ones were the mad,

If the bad ones were the good ones,

Then the good ones had been had,

If the sad ones were really happy,

And the cheerful miserable,

Perhaps the fat are really thin,

And the thin are full of bull,

If the tall were short and stubby,

Then a spouse could be a hubby,

What if sons were really daughters,

CEO’s were letter sorters,

Airline pilots might be doctors,

And doctors might be nurses,

What if knives were actually forks,

And cool dudes were really dorks,

Lions could be tigers,

Nah that is impossible,

Time to stop this stupid poem,

As its getting rather dull.

Death!

Death!  It lies in wait,

The final act before the curtain falls,

The slow creep towards eternity,

The ball it rolls slowly downwards,

Towards the infinite fall.

Death!  The cruelest trick,

What happens when the lights go out,

When the soul departs,

When the switch is flicked,

Up to down, on to off.

Death!  No one can see,

It waits breathing over your shoulder,

It lurks behind you eager,

It decides when to pounce,

To devour you forever.

Death!  Death!  Death!

The word sends a chill as cold as ice,

Pray if you want, hope for more,

Close your eyes,

Let death take you to his door.

What lives inside the empty space?

Brain-dump time. 

What is beyond what we can see?  What is beyond reality?  What if by some miracle, we could see the structure of the universe?  Similar to Neo in the Matrix, when he suddenly sees the matrix, the structure, and the foundations of the false reality.  We only see an illusion created by our brains, we do not see the world as it is; we see it, as we want to see it.  For absolute definite, reality is not as we imagine it to be, it has to be different beneath the surface.  How do we tear away the wallpaper and peek inside.

I know this is probably very sad and I cannot believe I am printing this, but I sometimes sit and concentrate very hard and try to break down reality into its component parts.  I do not know what the component parts are, and I have never actually managed to break it down, perhaps I need to try harder.  However, sometimes I just want to know so badly, I yearn to know, it just seems the most important question to answer.  Perhaps it is similar to meditation, perhaps when people meditate they are breaking down the barriers between the world we see, the illusion, and the world which is definitely there, beyond reality.  

Whatever it might be.

How do you break down the barrier?

How do you go into the bricks and mortar, the foundations, smash the plaster, the paint, and see inside reality.  Inside the universe, what might we see?  The fact that our illusion is mostly empty space makes me wonder what lives inside the emptiness.  Is our illusion a fact or a fantasy?  Are our equations and theories, just methodology useful in our type of reality? 

Perhaps, I don’t know.  Brain-dump over.

An Imperfect Symphony

Isn’t life strange, we want so much to enjoy it, to feel we have gotten as much out of it as possible, yet it always seems to fall short.  Yes, some live with blissful happiness constantly, or just ignore the fact they are not happy.  Some try to find happiness through other means and it works to a point, but for the vast majority life is shit.

Why should the greatest gift ever bestowed on anything to exist, at least in our reality, be so utterly sadistic.  Are we at present the imperfect tool, like a great invention before it becomes a great invention?  Perhaps the perfect song, when it is still just a few words on a page.  Alternatively, we are the first or second draft of an amazing bestselling novel.

I have always wanted to believe we were more than that, but when you look at the world, we are just a draft, nowhere near to perfection.  One thing that always inspired me to try harder was watching a lecture about Beethoven and the creation of his Ninth Symphony.  The lecturer played Beethoven’s first version, which sounded like a drowning cat.  “You have to remember”, the lecturer told us, “that Beethoven was totally deaf by the time he created this symphony”.  He then played the tenth version and it still sounded terrible.  Then the twentieth, this sounded more like the symphony but still bad, and then the last draft, one before the final symphony.  I was enthralled, to me it showed perseverance, the never give up mentality, it made me realise that however shit I was at something, I could always get better.  Fine, yes, I was never going to be a Beethoven, but I could aspire to try.

However, now I see it a different way.  Now, I see it as being humanity - what we are, and what we do.  We are like a fifteenth version of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, we are getting near to perfection, but we still sound terrible.  We are still nowhere near to getting it right, we are on the right path, but that path is still long with many forks separating from it.

We have to keep trying to find the right road; we have to continue to work towards finishing our symphony.  I suppose I just feel a sense of sadness that I am only part of the draft symphony and not the symphony itself.

Alone in Darkness

I stand alone in darkness,

Trapped with fear I am a slave,

Only nightmares all around me,

A way out is all I crave,

Will I ever see the light again,

Feel its warmth upon my skin,

Or am I doomed to live without a hope,

And the misery that it brings.