SEP 6, 2011

I’ve flirted with many different ideologies, & systems from alcoholism to veganism. I’ve experimented and implemented these concepts into my life and not just read about them in books. I’ve dated/slept with a few dozen women from fashion model to lawyer, from scientist to social worker, from college student(s) to teenage virgin, from kindergarten teacher to clothing store manager, from hostel travelers to club girls, from groupies to girls whose names I can’t even remember, from 18 year old virgin to 43 year old single mother (and yes I am aware it’s possible that both lied about age). I’ve befriended and hung out with drunks, academics, computer programmers, heroin addicts, criminals, photographers, writers, actors, business men, yogis, filmmakers, athletes, engineers, nobodies, musicians, soldiers, cooks, poker players, backpackers (and sometimes even lived with them on/off). I’ve written a lot of songs and poems and journals and blogs and letters and emails which have all been archived throughout the years. I’ve lived in four different countries in my life so far and have visited about fifteen. For the last 6-7 years I’ve read probably a few books every single week. I’ve watched so many movies, documentaries, stand-up comedy shows, tv programs and listened to so much music that it’s starting to be challenging to really find something new. But I do find that there is a lot of “new” to be discovered (and rediscovered) in even the stuff that is no longer new to me. Great art is often layered. It sometimes demands years and years to uncover hidden beauties. Or to understand it. I’ve seen things during my life. I’ve had some tragedies. I’ve had some triumphs. Lots of beautiful moments. Some missed opportunities. Lots of failure. I’ve thought about stuff long and hard. Future and past. I’ve experienced things that many people probably just don’t have time to experience. I’ve supported myself with dead end jobs, from playing music, and from being a socialist parasite by leeching money from my government and justifying it to myself as payment for my own sacrifices which enable the artist within me to thrive. I served in the military for 9 months when I was 19. I’ve owned a lot of shit and then got rid of it. Some sold, some donated. Clothes, records, books, electronics, instruments, technology, fitness gear, etc. I’ve wasted a lot of money on stuff like designer clothes, hi-fi equipment, junk food, junk entertainment, drugs, sex, festivals, shows, restaurants, music/movie boxsets, personal development products, etc. I feel like every single year of my life has been very different from each other. I’ve lived many lives during my 28 years on this planet. i don’t believe in past lives or future lives. I only believe in what I can see right now and feel and touch. All other beliefs are meaningless. I’ve never believed in god nor have understood why it even matters although it did intrigue me very much at one point why there is so much debate as to whether such a thing is probable. That said, I still feel like I don’t know shit. I’m still a young kid who is hungry for more. Even if that means learning the art of having less and embracing the tranquil state or becoming a junkie or gambler. It’s all about experience. Experimenting with experiences. Sometimes this means going where you should not go. Not always doing what is expected. But I would like to find a little more balance between having my feet on the ground and my head in the clouds. Or just balance in general (whatever that means). Stability. Security. Those are very foreign concepts for me. And scary. Maybe one can live a life where there is a wild dangerous side but also something to come home to, somewhere. Maybe this can somehow be divided every year into segments. Maybe not. Maybe once again, my extremist personality is trying to take control. Trying to find adventure in non-adventure. Romanticizing the grey areas of life. ‘All things in moderation’ is something that is often thrown at me. But what about moderation? Isn’t the statement ‘all things…’ statement itself contradictory (beginning with the first word)?