March 10th, 2007; full body scan

A bit of a blast from the past for my readers on this bright & beautiful night. I wrote this shortly after moving out on my own for the first time. I had a diagnosis but no cure. This is a reflection of that time in my life when there was really no beginning, as I’ve not known life without my mind. And I perceived no end, my ignorant blissful state of being young… Invincible. Enjoy:

FULL BODY SCAN by Ross W

Saturday and midday, hot as hell in my apartment. Quiet as night and lonely.

Not a thing goin down today, gives me some reflection time. Its not often I encounter a day where there is nothing @ all goin on. Most people are out doing the everyday things and honoring their responsibilities.

Sometimes I envy their drive, most of the time I am certain tho it is me who is envied. My present situation has kinda left me adrift, a soul meandering through the landscape of the mind’s eye.

I am having one of those days, I can’t find the conviction to assign any real value to a specific task and stay motivated to do anything. I want to talk to people but I don’t wanna speak and I wanna listen but I don’t wanna hear. I ate today simply cause it was essential to my survival and for no other purpose, I showered ta try and jump start this day but it just wasn’t happen’n.

There is a void here and I am not certain what it is, it consumes my mind energy and drags my psyche into seclusion. Whats out there? There is something goin down beyond the parameters of my apartment and it conspires against my physical being. I am aware of it but I am not sure what it is.

I just finished droning thru the house completing some random tasks, a fruitless attempt to organize the outside cause the inside is a scramble of data compiled over a multitude of days, hours, minutes and seconds and it needs to be dumped. I repeatedly rummage thru my subconscious trying to drag fwrd the culprit soo the memory may be dealt with and the matter closed.

The opportunity to contemplate many great things along with many minds, also grasping for understanding has been available via the internet and for that I am grateful. There is a time when man should not be left alone even when he asks of it. For the battle inside his mind is greater than that ever fathomed by an outsider. All they see is the husk of a human being, wandering about this physical linear plain of existence…

Asking myself many questions today I cannot answer one of them, it is not a simple idea to accept. No answer @ all to questions which swim in the mire of this worlds fucked up social systems. I desire to be no part of it but my body’s primal being craves it! I don’t want it but there is a part that needs it, and WHY!? Is what I want to know. Why do I want it? I hate it soo but the rush, temptation, anticipation, desire, wonder, anxieties and pain. Without them what is a person? Yet we all desire to to eliminate what I strive to feel.

The “I against I”

In retrospect I ask does this information, just spewed from my brain make any sense? It was in there and it needed to get out. Its exorcism from my mind has really not made any immediately measurable change in my present state of satisfaction altho it has tired me out. I think a nap is in order? I will retire and hopefully on the other side of this rest I will be a bit more complete…

My Music Monday – Wolf Parade “california dreamer”

Stepping off the ferry into the Dartmouth terminal I briefly stand at the exit. Snow is pouring down, its beautiful. The pavement is dark, the street lights are dancing polka as the hush of headlights cast shadows over our towering parking lot mountain ranges of snow. The music plays and I’m stepping through the door. This anthem smashing on my brain… And “the radio waves are like snow“.

Blast from the past; Life Happens.

Journal Entry by Ross W

Written in Toronto. A laundry room experience… date unknown

I found this little gem while digging through the relentless pile of life I’ve been dragging around with me from province to province, city to city. Have a read. Enjoy 🙂

Life Happens

it happens at 6 Am.

life changes at 6 Am.

I think for the first time ever in my life I am awake and doing laundry at 6 Am.

Decided to try and get a different start to my day and different is what I got.

There is a woman here, she is labouring over what looks like the laundry pile left behind by a battalion of children…

And, the sun is different. The people on the street are different. Its kinda like waking to an alien world. My natural post sunrise neighborhood is possessed by strangers. People I don’t commonly see.

The experience has raised my mind into a sort of silent utopia. It is very zen.

for the last few months I’ve been on cruise control really. Going to sleep, getting up at the last minute every morning. For whatever reason looking for excuses not to live my life. Rationalizing my days off into empty productivity.

Its nice to have days off, but not to rot my eyes on movies and video games…

Ugh, I feel so shitty about what happened yesterday.

*FUCKING TONELESS WOMAN!*

she just keeps on singing

“so much trouble in this world”

your darn fucking right there is…

Its right here singing. Ruining my zen.

the rest of the world is existing outside your headphones. Senseless bitch.

The End.

I write poetry; Black Magic by Ross W

Black Magic

pressing pen to paper

Black magic drips from the tip of my mind.

Whimsical and Romantic, powerfully permanent

my secret song makes love to the papers soft white glow.

The End.

I wrote this poem while travelling across Canada. I staid a while in Ontario, fell in love. It inspired some of the richest poetry I have ever written. Now it lays about my Dartmouth apartment, buried in boxes. Hidden deep within the pages of journals, some ten to fifteen years old. I’ll continue to share them with you all from time to time as I stumble upon them. Hope you enjoy. 

writers circle; Get Angry

Today’s writing exercise was a pretty common one here @ Connections. We have three jars with random words written on colored paper. Ya take one of each color then write a piece using the words. My words; On a plane, Jump and Angry. And so I wrote this. Typical protest piece:

I have my angry days, it all makes me angry

The news makes me jump in anger.

We live in this so called Global Community.

The commercials shout we are in this together.

Then I read the paper and it makes me Angry.

Countries locked in cold war, centuries after spilled blood .

Nation rising against Nation for their natural resources.

Economic hit men jump from the night and plunge entire societies into servitude and it makes me Angry.

I have my Angry days and I think the rest of the world does too.

but I’m not sure.

I see them smiling in their servitude. Starving, no shelter and under paid.

Swollen in the belly and voices suppressed by corrupt government.

Government corrupting Government. Committing social genocide.

Not everyone is free to just jump on a plane. The ones that need it the most can’t just GET ANGRY and escape to relaxing beauty.

The thought of it makes me sick.

Just because of where I was born. I’m not a global refugee.

struggling to escape the all encompassing label of terrorist threat.

It makes me Angry. But… I am free to travel anywhere my heart desires.

I can go nearly anywhere and find a peaceful little slice of America.

But at what price?

We should all get Angry. Get Angry, jump on a plane.

Travel to the places we drown in poverty.

Witness the true price of our brand name shoes.

Look deep into the face of economic warfare. Get Angry.

Speak Up, Act Out. Demand WORLD CHANGE. Demand WORLD ACTION.

Ross W

writers circle; I wrote a song! lol

My first song writing experience. The subject matter was protest. One of my fellow writers was writing about a negative experience he had with Metro Transit. And I know for a fact he is not alone in this experience. I recently witnessed a driver for the #10 pull away from a dead stop while a pedestrian was crossing the street. It looked as though the driver intentionally pulled out and passed as close to the pedestrian as possible while blowing the horn continuously until he made a full pass. It was not only startling to the pedestrian but also to me as a bystander. And even more disturbing to witness after the recent passing of three persons struck by bus at crossings. This poor, poor attitude and behavior is less then appealing to witness especially in the light of rising fares and declining service/reviews. As a result, I wrote this song. I’m gonna try to put some music to it later. With my limited guitar skills lol. I do have a tune in my head, I’ll see if I can find something similar on Youtube. Here we go >

song; Driver # 10

La La La, La La La… Driver # 10

La La La, La La La… Driver # 10

*guitar intro

Put your weapon down. Oh put your weapon down

It really is a sin…

Four men down… Not one makes a sound.

Oooh! Put your weapon down…

Driver # 10.

It really is a sin!..

Were not def.

Were not blind.

Driver # 10, Can’t you SEE THE SIGN!..

Oh, Oh, Oooh, PUT YOUR WEAPON DOWN!..

*interlude

La La La, La La La, Driver # 10

oh put your weapon down.

And the price it climbs. And the tempers never fall.

Everybody see’s and it BRINGS US TO OUR KNEE’S OH, Oh, oooh.

La La La, La La La… Driver # 10

*interlude

OOOh, put YOUR WEAPON DOWN! put your weapon down.

*guitar fade out

Hmm :/ and that is it. That’s my song.

I’ll keep on the watch for a Youtube link. Enjoy.

 

 

Writers Circle @ Connections

Part 1:

Write a poem using the sound “mmm”… When I was a child I would listen to my Mom talk on the phone. This is what I heard 🙂

Mhmm, mhm, mhmmm

M’yeah, uh’hum, mmmm

Meh, emmm, maa’um

Mmm’bye, mhmm, mhmm, mhmm

Mmm’bye

Part 2:

Write a poem with a word drawn from a bowl randomly, my word is “Fuzzy”. The poem is to be written in three lines.

1. Fuzzy was my mind, fuzzy was my frontal lobe.

2. Fuzzy was my vision, and fuzzy were my hands and feet.

3. Fuzzy was my sleep and fuzzy were my dreams.

 

 

The End