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A Mystical Leaf of Sufi Afro Zen
It has been my philosophy that spanking children is not necessary in order to discipline, partly because my Aunt use to beat the hell out of me when I was little. I called it child abuse.
My parents did things like making us stand in corners, holding heavy books with arms outstretched or taking away our toys. The method worked.
But since I had my first child, I thought that in some cases children should be spanked for doing things that is out of bounds like spitting on the floor, biting, and using vulgar words.
Explanations come with the spankings.
I don't like the city life, the pollution, long lines at the checkout stands, salesmen in business suits trying to sell life insurance, politics and politicians, white collar crooks and shirts that choke my neck, taxes for the poor, and stingy people.
I yearn for long complete solitude evenings close to nature, where the only sounds are the rustling leaves from the wind, sweet melodies of songstress birds, the flowing river below the steep cliffed mountains, deers moving in the bush, the flapping wings of a colorful humming bird, and the sound of my breath and heart beating at one.
Felt like the life force was drained out of me, and slept for a long period of time throughout the day.
I became very angry after reading about "the hijab ban" France put on Muslim women, preventing them from covering themselves completely in public schools.
France and America, which are supposed to stand for freedom and tolerance for all religions is all a bunch of bullshit. I wipe my ass with their constitutions and broken treaties.
If Bush wins another election we should all prepare for dooms day.
Don't believe everything you see in the news, you can't trust them.
Capitalism does not benefit humanity.
Masses of people doing slave labor for what is called today minimum wages. You know the crumbs that you earn for each hour you work? On top of your minimum wages, they want to deprive you more by justifying taxes. You never see that money again. Who is pocketing our tax money? Is it Uncle Sam? He is not my uncle.
Doesn't the mafia go around taking money from people and call it protection money?
But protection from what?
I tell you that our judges, presidents, prime ministers, are being paid shut your mouth wages.
No matter what your race, if you are born in America you are automatically considered an American. So you have Japanese Americans, Mexican Americans and so on.
But my argument is that you cant have it both ways. Its either you are this or that or none of the above.
If a Japanese couple moved to India and had a baby there would the child be called a Japanese Indian? Or if a Korean couple moved to France and had a baby there, would the baby be called French Korean?
Their can't be African Americans. Africans yes; by ancestral lineage
I would rather be with a fat woman who knew how to cook good food and loved me whole heartedly than an attractive super model who treated me like dirt. I see certain women who think they are Queens of the planet. Their outer appearance is beautiful, but their inner self is full of poison, puss, deceit and lies; so overall that makes them ugly.
Men can't forget that no matter how pretty a woman may appear, she still pees and craps in the toilet, farts, and wakes up with bad breath.
So don't put them on some immortal cloud.
What was it about the 1960's that the U.S Government feared so much? Besides killing political activists, college students and locking up outspoken individuals, he also killed President Kennedy for not going with the mainstream. Kennedy didn't want the Top Secret information on Unidentified Flying Objects to be so secret, but available to the public as well. Then several astronauts were killed in what was dubbed as freak accidents. But Big Brother knew, (not a brother of mine.) Selected astronauts were killed because they knew that the so called landing on the Moon was all a hoax and a fraud.
People shouldn't wait for a particular day or month out of the year to all of a sudden think about holiness. Everyday should be a holy day, to live and be the best person we can be.
What's the use of praying if your prayers aren't even sincere?
What's the use of giving away charity and alms if its not really in your heart?
Children are often asked and encouraged to name some occupation of what they want to be when they grow up. Out of all answers, rarely is the response I want to be my Self.
Why would you want to talk about politics and the boss you hate so much and try to make love at the same time?
Furthermore it's a big time turn off to begin with, if you're not really into making love. I would be better off reading the Webster's dictionary, or surfing the internet instead.
I experience joy when making love, but when you are not as joyous as I am, are you telling me that I should look for another person to fill the void that I need to experience in my life?
Your subliminal wishes will be granted.
I contemplated and realized that yes; there is power in the word. But words aren't just a series of alphabets lined up to spell something. The spoken word also consists of vibrations.
Everything you think of consists of vibrations; buildings, plants, ants, and even thoughts.
What makes the word so powerful is its ability to persuade and convince an individual or individuals. The word can inspire one person to do so much.
When one says or talks about the voice of God, we automatically think of one who speaks with authority. We barely pay attention to people with weak voices.
"Let's remember the victims in the events that took place on September 11 2001" they say. "Let us remember the Jews that suffered during the holocaust," they say as well.
Its interesting that I never hear anyone say "let us remember the slaves that suffered during the times of slavery; of the children who were taken from their families; of the fathers who were beaten in front of their wives; and wives who were raped in front of their husbands.
Instead I hear them say, that was the past and let the by gone be.
History should never be forgotten.
I saw the baby being pushed along in its stroller as it lay down so peacefully, with no cares in the world it seemed. I said to myself if I had to go back in time I would be a baby again. I wouldn't have to work or worry about paying bills. I would be able to get my butt wiped frequently, spoon fed at every meal, carried around wherever I go and have all the sleep and rest I ever wanted. I think we would be more appreciative towards our parents if we went back in time as babies.
Fear is our worst enemy. In a sense it cripples us limiting us to our full potential as human beings. Fear of another person is even worst, especially since that person is not God. We should do whatever is in our hearts to do and face whatever consequences may result from our actions, especially if our actions are based on genuine love, trust and faith. Being able to identify our fears and facing them dead on is one of the most liberating things we can do in our lives to make ourselves a product of real life non blinking warriors.
The most difficult of all relationships are long distance relationships. The ones where your lover lives thousands of miles away and your only means of communication is e-mail, snail mail, and expensive long distance phone calls. I remember when I met my first wife and how I thought she was the one. I asked her if she felt the same about me when we first met and she said no. Thanks for being honest though.
I believe soulmates exist, however we reunite with our soulmates is the big question. They could be somewhere on the other side of the globe.
"I am special and you better respect me, because I drink Starbucks coffee." That's the impression I get from alot of people who go there to get their coffee. By the way they put off their façades, you would swear that you had to be a Starbucks member to buy a cup of coffee. Anyone can buy a fresh bag of coffee beans and brew their own coffee or make their own latte to taste better than Starbucks. Starbucks makes good coffee, but don't think that drinking it is going to turn you into some diva or some super hero.
The crowded 70 bus again.
Sometimes when I ride the bus I feel like I'm in a dream and expect something unusual to happen, like some strange woman suddenly talking to me with familiarity, or a plant growing on the floor board of the bus. At other times, the crowded bus looks like a scene that would go good inside of a comic book. I see people heads that remain motionless like robots, while others hit their heads hard against the side window from dowsing off in a deep sleep. I see old ladies standing; no one offers them seats.
I don't know why every Friday I keep having thoughts about my ex wife; or is she thinking about me and I'm picking up on her thoughts. The truth is that if I were given a chance, I would never remarry her again. Before I married my ex, an Indian seer told me by looking at her photograph that my heart would forgive again and again but that my spirit could only take so much. What she said turned out to be true; but she never called her self a seer or a psychic. It was something she just knew
Snip, snip, I cut my beard gingerly with the scissors that were hanging on the nail; on the dirty sky blue tile; parts of the scissors a bit rusty from all the moisture and showers taken.
I cut it reluctantly knowing that if I grow it this length again, it could have been twice as long.
Many urged me on to let it grow as long as Osama Bin Laden's beard, while others urged me to cut it off because they couldn't grow a beard even if they tried.
Some said it stunk.
The overall decision was completely my own.
I love the rain and the smell that the Earths soil gives off once it is dampened. I love to see how the dead land suddenly comes to life with green herbages growing everywhere. Seeing the Earth and the wild plants that sprouts out of it reminds me of my childhood. I remember having vivid imaginations back then. Putting myself in the body of an ant or flying like the butterfly. I always saw the garden as a completely different world than the one I lived in and wondered what it would be like being miniature in a grass jungle.
It has been a very long time now that I keep saying I want to write a book, but I don't know what to write about. I don't have a plot, a scene or even characters. Some of my best writings are in my journals and in letters I've written to friends and relatives. It is encouraged for a person to write about something they know very well. I guess this makes writing alot easier. Sometimes its best not to follow rules in so called how to books. Burrowing into the creative deep within are often the best steps taken.
I began to see my self and its false aspects and desire to remove my false self in the same manner we peel an orange. I see that what I call me and my self is actually a layer of concepts, ideas, things people told me that I accepted as being true, and the manipulated thoughts of others. I begin the process by stating what I am "not" in true reality. I am not a name, or a title, since these act as tools to describe and communicate. I am not a thing or an object. I am not this.
If anyone saw a tiger acting like a mouse, everyone would laugh at the tiger, including the entire animal kingdom.
When my Operation Manager is amongst staff members and colleagues he acts, walks and talks like he is a tiger or the Lion King.
But when the Building Manager walks in he acts like this soft docile pathetic mouse. Seeing him act this way really disgusts me. When his staff members are correct he never stands up for them.
Stand up like a man! I wanted to tell him so badly. Are you a man or a cowardly imbecile mouse?
Women are strange fragile creatures; delicate in more ways than one. The more I study women, the more I agree with the concept as women being like planets and men like Sun.
I have never seen 2 women who are the same in their thinking, ideas, or in their looks. Women are also subtle like our unconscious dreams; they operate as symbols and hieroglyphics that may take a long time to be deciphered. Deciphering 1 code however can help to crack and open up the rest of them.
Its not about a woman's body, it's about what's in her mind.
What a valuable lesson I learned after talking with an individual who is no longer a part of my life. After I spoke to her, it dawned on me that I was still holding on to certain aspects about her.
We hold on to things mentally which deals with our past, which prevents us from moving forward to our future.
When we go traveling, we never like to bring unnecessary luggage. It only causes more hassles and is heavier to carry.
As travelers of Life, we release our grasps on the past so we can move forward towards our goals.
The tribal brothers and sisters will say that the path the white man has taken is not the way. I look at these sky scrapers and see that they were built for the benefit of only a few people but not all people. The ancients built structures which were in harmony with nature and surrounding. Then we had a harmonious relationship with our Earth Mother. Millions of people are forced out of their natural habitats into the way that is being led by the white man. Now countless people, animals, plants, and ecosystems are dying unnaturally as he continues on.
I had just got off the bus during the evening hours, so it was a bit dark outside. I began walking down the sidewalk and suddenly a big flash of light blinded me for maybe a nano second. It was lightning, but when I looked up into the sky I didn't see any clouds. It flashed a few times more and I witnesses the intricate electrical patterns in the lightning bolts. I heard the grumbling roar of the thunder as though someone had an upset stomach. I theorized that these flashes of lights were God taking photos without Kodak film.
For most of my entire 12 hour shift today I was sitting at the main reception desk seeing people come in and out of the building minute by minute. I really sat and observed without judging anyone, making assumptions and assuming things about them. The more I observed the more I began to see and I realized how caught up the people were in this fake constructed world. I saw the fake smiles, the false assumptions people had about themselves. Some who seemed to have this false pride that they were more important than others while others felt less than,.
As I journeyed along the expressway in the evening hours in a taxi cab, I realized that this was one of the best parts of Southeast Asia that I loved the most and seemed to move me in a profound way.
The journey reminded me of the mystical aspects of my life in Los Angeles and Chicago.
The Moon was beautiful tonight as it glowed with its mysterious Venus yellow luminosity. According to my Chinese cab driver, tonight is Chinese Valentines day.
Many adults and children went outside with radiant decorated lanterns and lit sparkly fireworks.
Romance and Love together.
Black must be a sacred color, because here at my job, they say we can't write in black ink as though black was something forbidden.
I looked up the definition of "black" in the dictionary and it makes black look so sinister. I wondered why magic practiced by black people and indigenous people is called black magic meaning bad, while magic depicting white wizards with long beards was considered as good.
Who are the people who give the definitions of peoples cultures and practices?
Is it possible that there is a big misunderstanding?
Is the Black Universe evil as well?
Thinking that someone else is talking about us with out proof is a waste of time and energy. It is a wasted thought that could have been used for something far more productive. But even if it was true that a person or a group of individuals was talking about you behind your back, what can their words do to you? Sticks and stones would hurt our bodies if we were struck with them. A persons words can only harm us to the degree that we accept that persons words to be true. Do you know who you really are?
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