best thing I could have received...
Dear Hakaryu, I warn you now this one is going to be sappy
In the course of my life I've never really been able to give any person enough to say thank you for all the wonderful things they do...as I just turned thirty I was starting to think that it wasn't in me ...perhaps I was too much of a failure at too many things...
I'm not talking about friends I admit to "buying" love and friendship from I speak of the handful of people that I would rather starve than see them go hungry...if i ever truly have wisdom they are the ones I would like to show how to be free...
Hakkai is my soulmate. he is haunted by a past that proves your past does not make you who you are but how you deal with it does. he tells me stories when he confides in me that break my heart. for years I have loved him and watched him fall, every time he got close to happiness he would find a way to deny himself it. today I saw something in him, heard something in his voice that stopped my heart...that is I heard his true voice for a moment and saw his true smile(it is far more lovely than the one he usually shares with the world) and I realized if I change absolutely nothing else in this world I helped show him he was free to be as alive as he always wished...it is the greatest joy I have ever known now I only ask the Source to grant me the wisdom to never do anything to make him question his freedom from the heartbreak he thought life was again...
though truly it was the least I could do for the one who gave me the strength to face the Unknown and turn a devestated soul into it's true form. I can believe and discover how the modest of mettles become the greatest elements...it is because of him that I can be an Alkhemiyst...it is because of him that I can offer the views about freedom I possess...
that horizon is dazzling today because he sees it too...
here's a bizarre question as it will likely lead into a heavier thought on the element of sound...I ask it of you and I will ask it of myself for the week i think...as part of Shuichi's Songs....what lyrics go past your entertained ears and infiltrate your soul...providing comfort or inspiration or even profound sadness...it is profound if it resonates in you...that is the only criteria...
An example..laugh if you will..Puff the magic dragon used to make me weep because at oh about as early as eight or so I knew I would someday lose the magic of childhood(about the time I realized my beloved Grandmother would die)...when the two events of becoming an adult and losing her occured it was that song I thought of...of course now I believe the little boy who the song is about did discover a way to his dragon again and the song is only part of the story...and for those of you who are going um hello Puff was written about toking i say this why something is written and what it means are not the same thing...and to really stand by my version i ask how do you know the writer didn't toke because they had lost their ability to imagine and dream like a child...sometimes drugs are just an atificial means to get back a feeling most adults can never touch again..when a million voices tell you the dragons are not real and nothing but childish fantasy and you still want to see them what else can you do...you are always searching..we don't all become drug addicts, per say but we still have our addictions to forget that pain...if only everyone could realize or have some one wonderful enough in their life to help them realize the dragons or unicorns or fairies never stopped existing they just let the rest of the world convince them they weren't there or they were wrong..
The song that grabs me now and won't let me go speaks to me on several levels...it dares me to be something that seems unreachable...it speaks to the tormented artist i have inside...it tells a sad story that serves as a warning to anyone trying to be an Alkhemyist because once you see beauty you can't help but want others to see it...once you attain enlightment of any kind you can't help but want to show others how...but you mustn't look for the result, you can only live and teach by example...I don't think Buddha waits at the gate of heaven planning to be the last one in..I think he keeps being reincarnated so he can show people how to find enlightenment by living and teaching by example...and I think by the very nature of being human he's not perfect and sometimes he forgets who is and all he knows...and when a soul like that forgets who he is and all he knows you get a song like this...
Starry starry night
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
lyrics are black my comments are red...to be an artist is to see the world differently and constantly be compelled to show the world it can be seen differently...and that includes being able to exprees deepest grief and brightest joy because you have known them...
Shadows on the hills,Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how.
oh to be remembered so fondly as that...for some one to see your wisdom...what an accompilshment...for someone to understand a hundred years later what you meant...ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS...
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ...die tragically then someday your words will have meaning..kill yourself because others didn't understand your attempt to show them beauty...and they write a hauntingly beautiful song about you too...but let's be honest when I feel worthless that sentiment sounds pretty damn romantic...this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you...wow...cool i'd like to be that incredible
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless head on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in the ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.
this song haunts me in a way no other does...because I know without the painter there is no painting...his act of taking his life did not bring greater value to his Work it robbed the world of the beauty he had yet to create...not only didn't "they" understand him but did he really understand himself...and they can't listen if you are not there to speak and I believe each soul has an individual voice and no one can voice the truth of another's soul as well as the person themselves(or their next incarnation)...but it haunts me as well because I do believe I'm an old soul I don't who or what I was before but living as myth is not the life path for a newborn soul or weak-willed incarnation..so I'm guessing in that time I, like Vincent, have made some similar foolish mistakes getting to caught up in what "they" listen to...even if i am only trying to get them to listen to them selves..and I recognize the stirring in me to sometimes romanticize the idea of being too beautiful in heart and mind for this world, to egotistically strive to be that...in truth I never want a song like this written about me...I would rather live a rich full life while "they" ignore me...even while I try to get them to listen..then have to die tragically to be called a visionary,to have people listen...besides like the song says even after they aren't listening still...look at the one of the master storytellers... he died...they even say it was for them...and they definately don't understand a word he was trying to say...
Maybe the hardest truth about being a Living Myth is your stories and visions will only live as long as you do...the best legacy you can leave is that another voice can reflect the inherent truths you tried to share...until you return to the level of wisdom you had in a new life and then some then maybe you can dust off your stories and try again...but I would guess poor Vincent is still working towards being the great artist he once was as he never learned the value of his gift in life.
Source , don't ever let this traveller make the same mistake...
In the course of my life I've never really been able to give any person enough to say thank you for all the wonderful things they do...as I just turned thirty I was starting to think that it wasn't in me ...perhaps I was too much of a failure at too many things...
I'm not talking about friends I admit to "buying" love and friendship from I speak of the handful of people that I would rather starve than see them go hungry...if i ever truly have wisdom they are the ones I would like to show how to be free...
Hakkai is my soulmate. he is haunted by a past that proves your past does not make you who you are but how you deal with it does. he tells me stories when he confides in me that break my heart. for years I have loved him and watched him fall, every time he got close to happiness he would find a way to deny himself it. today I saw something in him, heard something in his voice that stopped my heart...that is I heard his true voice for a moment and saw his true smile(it is far more lovely than the one he usually shares with the world) and I realized if I change absolutely nothing else in this world I helped show him he was free to be as alive as he always wished...it is the greatest joy I have ever known now I only ask the Source to grant me the wisdom to never do anything to make him question his freedom from the heartbreak he thought life was again...
though truly it was the least I could do for the one who gave me the strength to face the Unknown and turn a devestated soul into it's true form. I can believe and discover how the modest of mettles become the greatest elements...it is because of him that I can be an Alkhemiyst...it is because of him that I can offer the views about freedom I possess...
that horizon is dazzling today because he sees it too...
here's a bizarre question as it will likely lead into a heavier thought on the element of sound...I ask it of you and I will ask it of myself for the week i think...as part of Shuichi's Songs....what lyrics go past your entertained ears and infiltrate your soul...providing comfort or inspiration or even profound sadness...it is profound if it resonates in you...that is the only criteria...
An example..laugh if you will..Puff the magic dragon used to make me weep because at oh about as early as eight or so I knew I would someday lose the magic of childhood(about the time I realized my beloved Grandmother would die)...when the two events of becoming an adult and losing her occured it was that song I thought of...of course now I believe the little boy who the song is about did discover a way to his dragon again and the song is only part of the story...and for those of you who are going um hello Puff was written about toking i say this why something is written and what it means are not the same thing...and to really stand by my version i ask how do you know the writer didn't toke because they had lost their ability to imagine and dream like a child...sometimes drugs are just an atificial means to get back a feeling most adults can never touch again..when a million voices tell you the dragons are not real and nothing but childish fantasy and you still want to see them what else can you do...you are always searching..we don't all become drug addicts, per say but we still have our addictions to forget that pain...if only everyone could realize or have some one wonderful enough in their life to help them realize the dragons or unicorns or fairies never stopped existing they just let the rest of the world convince them they weren't there or they were wrong..
The song that grabs me now and won't let me go speaks to me on several levels...it dares me to be something that seems unreachable...it speaks to the tormented artist i have inside...it tells a sad story that serves as a warning to anyone trying to be an Alkhemyist because once you see beauty you can't help but want others to see it...once you attain enlightment of any kind you can't help but want to show others how...but you mustn't look for the result, you can only live and teach by example...I don't think Buddha waits at the gate of heaven planning to be the last one in..I think he keeps being reincarnated so he can show people how to find enlightenment by living and teaching by example...and I think by the very nature of being human he's not perfect and sometimes he forgets who is and all he knows...and when a soul like that forgets who he is and all he knows you get a song like this...
Starry starry night
Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
lyrics are black my comments are red...to be an artist is to see the world differently and constantly be compelled to show the world it can be seen differently...and that includes being able to exprees deepest grief and brightest joy because you have known them...
Shadows on the hills,Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free
They would not listen, they did not know how.
oh to be remembered so fondly as that...for some one to see your wisdom...what an accompilshment...for someone to understand a hundred years later what you meant...ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS...
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ...die tragically then someday your words will have meaning..kill yourself because others didn't understand your attempt to show them beauty...and they write a hauntingly beautiful song about you too...but let's be honest when I feel worthless that sentiment sounds pretty damn romantic...this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you...wow...cool i'd like to be that incredible
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls
Frameless head on nameless walls
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget
Like the strangers that you've met
The ragged men in the ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity,How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will.
this song haunts me in a way no other does...because I know without the painter there is no painting...his act of taking his life did not bring greater value to his Work it robbed the world of the beauty he had yet to create...not only didn't "they" understand him but did he really understand himself...and they can't listen if you are not there to speak and I believe each soul has an individual voice and no one can voice the truth of another's soul as well as the person themselves(or their next incarnation)...but it haunts me as well because I do believe I'm an old soul I don't who or what I was before but living as myth is not the life path for a newborn soul or weak-willed incarnation..so I'm guessing in that time I, like Vincent, have made some similar foolish mistakes getting to caught up in what "they" listen to...even if i am only trying to get them to listen to them selves..and I recognize the stirring in me to sometimes romanticize the idea of being too beautiful in heart and mind for this world, to egotistically strive to be that...in truth I never want a song like this written about me...I would rather live a rich full life while "they" ignore me...even while I try to get them to listen..then have to die tragically to be called a visionary,to have people listen...besides like the song says even after they aren't listening still...look at the one of the master storytellers... he died...they even say it was for them...and they definately don't understand a word he was trying to say...
Maybe the hardest truth about being a Living Myth is your stories and visions will only live as long as you do...the best legacy you can leave is that another voice can reflect the inherent truths you tried to share...until you return to the level of wisdom you had in a new life and then some then maybe you can dust off your stories and try again...but I would guess poor Vincent is still working towards being the great artist he once was as he never learned the value of his gift in life.
Source , don't ever let this traveller make the same mistake...
posted by just another soul heading west at 5:53 AM
1 Comments:
I'm somewhat overcome.. and not sure that I can clearly speak, but I will try....
For most of my life.. that other life, a different life it seems sometimes as my much clearer vision has skewed the view what I've come from... (sorry, getting a little too existential... will try to reign the philosopher back in... ) For most of my life I have clung with a grip stronger than death to everything that tells the story of my life.. scraps, pictures, my journals.. terrified that if I died, they would be the only things to remember my by... but a couple months ago I burned them.. I burned all my old diaries.. I only kept the most recent ones that are speaking the truth of me.. Anyway, I think my point was something like how each life is it's own story.. and the only people who need to tell their story & publish their autobio are the ones whose life was honestly boring & mostly meaningless & trite.. you know, pretty much everyone in Hollywood..
See, it's like.... if you live a true, genuine, real life... LIVE that life, not survive a life, then you will be well-remembered whether you write your biography or not.. whether "they" listen or not... If you are true to yourself & never compromise you for the sake of them, you won't have to worry about being rememebered. People think that Hollywood stars & legends are unforgettable, but they're not... They make a dozen movies so they will be remembered.... They bombard consumers with their pics in magazines, etc. so everyone will know who they are... but if they didn't make those movies, would we care who they were... ? Their are a select few who are truly memorable in their own right.. but most will fade into oblivion as soon as they fall off the front page..... Damn.. I'm a little too "out there" with my thinking tonite.. I'm not sure any of this made sense.. I hope someone understood part of this, because I really did have a great point to make in there somewhere....
P.S. That was nowhere near sappy.. That was amazing.. & I swear I'm gonna open a publishing company just so I can publish your memoirs... the non-blogging world needs to hear what you're saying.
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