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Odes to my coy mistress. Metaphysical poetry updated weekly. New entry

O Sailor

written by owen, Tue, 31st Jan at 8:35 am

I often go back and listen to some of my favorite songs and try to hold the thoughts and times in my head concurrently. The happiness and sadness and wonder and mystery. All the love I had in my mind. I am a lucky man. It would be easy to try to go back to that place but I am old now. I must move ever forward. I embrace the memories like a old friend whos name I have long forgotten. Everyday is a winding road. We are truly lucky.

Young people tend to look at life as a destination - a point at which they reach happiness. But as I get older I see that you are never truly ready for happiness. Shadow boxing. Happiness happens. Everyday, all around you. Finding the happiness in every moment is the real challenge. You will see it if you stop chasing down the future. Be consistent, be focused and waste not.

My missing brother showed up last weekend back with his old routine. Some people cannot be saved. It is not about love. Well at least he is alive and apparently well. Everyone is looking for someone to save them - someone to make them happy but it has all been done before. I cannot save everyone, not even myself. You have to find your own way.

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Technically

written by owen, Mon, 16th Jan at 9:52 am

The past week and a half of cleaning and fixing random stuff has been a welcomed release from the hustle and bustle of work. You would be surprised how calming it is to work in almost total silence at almost snails pace with no one around except for the call when dinner is ready. Having a double sink is really handy.

My beard has grown back in over the Christmas holiday and I have no way with which to shave it. I may have to go into town to get a fresh trim. I am getting a bit accustomed to not going outside at all or spending money. Even though haircuts are cheaper here (as far as I can remember) and there is less competition for the barbers chair.

I did manage to spend sometime on the computer while I am here. Chipped away at some code that I had been working on forever. Discovered that whatsapp groups are trash, full of idlers with no hobbies. I need to get on with these end of year posts before they pile up on me and I end up not doing any at all.

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All the way up

written by owen, Thu, 29th Dec 2016 at 12:12 pm

Its the end of another year and my savings are in a deficit. We are alive and well enough to continue to put pen to paper (or keyboard to computer) in this case. All the leaves are brown. I guess that is all that really matters in the end of a year. There are some lists that I need to make but I will likely wait until next year because having Christmas day on a Sunday creates weird holidays this time around the sun.

Half of my winter break will be spend meticulously and randomly cleaning my moms house. This would annoy most normal people so I prefer to do it alone where I can focus and think while the cold breeze blows and the community is so quiet I can hear the freshly cooked food moving through my stomach.

Maybe one day we will look back at this and say; "remember the time you disappeared for a year?". Some of us are just keep rolling, never gathering moss but we are too old now. Maybe it has reached the point where everything that you think you know about other people will be put to test. A lifetime of dreams and foolishness comes around in a full circle and we can finally sit back and watch our prophecies unravel before our eyes. I am my brother's keeper.

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Isle Of Bones

written by owen, Sat, 17th Dec 2016 at 8:06 am

First day of my Christmas vacation was spent washing shirts so that I do not have to wash them when I come back. I have to avoid addictions, especially things that consume resources. I have to spend time away from it all. It does not help that the auto parts dealership across the road has been playing music the entire day. I have to clear my head and organise my holiday projects that I will attempt to finish - unlikely, but one must always keep striving for a better self - for completion.

A flood of 2017 Soca has once again graced my stereo. Will I spend another year listening to a hundred songs until I narrow down my list of favorites. Sometimes my focus gets the better of me. It is never as good as the first time. I will compare everything to 2015 because that is my reference point. A point of reference is like a corner stone.

Most things do not matter to me. The foolish wants of the inconsiderate. The whims of impatience. I have no time for temporary desires that sway back and forth like waves hitting the shoreline. There is precious little time in which you have to do the things you need to do. How you view the world and how the world views you are separate things. If you choose to stay inside your own box and cast your view onto the world and let it reflect that is your choice - you are only limiting you self by constantly asking the wrong questions.

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Ride Like The Wind

written by owen, Thu, 15th Dec 2016 at 7:24 am

Sometimes you can guess what I am up to but most times I am trying not to count my eggs before they hatch. Waiting in the tall grass. Of course there is nothing wrong with counting your eggs early but hope flies like a dove on the wind. Before long you will be dreaming of what you would do with all that money you win in the lottery.

Trigger words: eventually how you sound will be the only thing that people use to relate to each other on the internet. If one can maintain the cadence and are so fluent that they can become the physical embodiment of other people's worst nightmares - images painted on the wall of their mind - a sort of VR world running in parallel with reality. I am writing a script for a cyber punk movie called "safe space". its going to be awesome.

Fear is a special feeling. Often uncontrollable like wind that follows you continuously swirling up and down the inner regions of your mind. Enclosed inside your skull. I think people need a outlet for their fears which is why we watch movies which are inflated versions of reality and look for bogeymen under our beds. Eventually the wind will engulf you and you and your fears will become one person. Let go.

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