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  • beulah888 5:35 AM on November 26, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , blogger, , , , , , philosophical, , Zombies   

    So, Having Moved On…. 

    dscn0415

    So, having moved on like an obedient Servant of the Gods, I am feeling relieved and slightly healthier.  Like after a good shit.

    I was well on the way to being very healthy again, I know that, but the move and thing got me (gotta blame something) smoking a bit more heavily again.  I was doing well at the less of the death-stick and more of the fresh air and exercise thing, but when my enemies ‘start huffing’ I sometimes start puffing.  Furiously!

    So once again settled, at least for a couple months while I figure things out, or the Gods show me a profitable path, I am discovering that leaving that familiar unfamiliar place where I was getting oh so comfortable has not been debilitating, but releasing.

    Maybe I AM meant to be one of Life’s ‘hobos’ or something.  Maybe I really am on the God-given trail but not liking it too much, ’cause I want a home, enough money not to worry and a perfect partner to rub my back when it aches.

    Thought I had the first one licked, what with being so settled back at that place; and was investigating all sorts of ideas that might have got me some money (if I could pull off at least one) and thinking of where to start looking about for a perfect partner.  Then the BOOM of the God’s and I am out on my ass.

    I am therefore beginning to think I am an FOTG= Favourite Of The Gods.  [I have this propensity to look on/for the bright side.  Continuous shit like mine does not happen to just anyone.  I MUST be special.]

    As an FOTG therefore, I am assed if I am actually going to put a lot of effort into figuring things out, and instead I am enjoying the fact that I am not physically or mentally homeless, I get to know a different place, and my breathing problems have disappeared despite the smoking.

    Well, some of you know the Docs in Hackney couldn’t find a real cause and I blamed it on the zombies and other dead detritus that hang around that location.  Thankfully, as the wind blows and the seas flow, those that tried following or enlisting followers, have caught a cold and a boat to the goal of no release.

    So, having moved on….a new chapter is beginning.

    dscn0417

    Fidel Castro died yesterday at 90.  Not bad for a guy who either was as special as I am, or more insane than we realised.  Either way it proves  to me:  I might as well plod on in style as the Gods truly have the final say.  Not zombies, or death threats, or assassination attempts, or diseases, or ogres with clubs.  Like Castro, I gonna smoke (burn earth, burn rubber, burn tyres, or just plain burn!) ’til I gotta hang up my guns.

    I off to find something or someone to cherish and relish and remember fondly.  Otherwise, what is the point of moving on?  In fact, otherwise, what is the point of Life?

    You with me ye Gods?

     
  • beulah888 3:23 AM on August 2, 2016 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: destiny, fate, , , humanities, , , Zombies   

    Here I Am 

    20160224_125208

    So Far So GOOD

    Well it is finished, it is over, and here I am.

    Seven months since I posted It Is Done and I am done with London.  Particularly I am done with Hackney.  I have absconded.  Gone AWOL.  Done a bunker.  Flown the coop.  Never to return.  Thank God.

    Thanks to the Gods too, and Life’s Controller, that the relief, the peace, nay the feeling of freedom, is profound and very real.  I have rested.  I am rested and getting fat.  O.K. the getting fat bit must be addressed, I must do some Zumba or something; but the rest relief and peace must continue.  Nay, but happiness must follow.

    The Zombies tried to follow but they got tripped and confused by the geography (zombies have no BRAINS and cannot understand Human life or “time travel” or mere normal movement).  They tried and got combusted in attempting to ‘travel through time’.  It is beyond their scope to comprehend that then is not now and that London is not where I am at.   So yeah, peace.

    Mind you, while getting lost in Transit, they tried to enlist and/or bully others such as they into continuing the detrititious (is that a word?) behaviour towards me.  How foolish was that?  They knew nothing of the place and nothing of the ORIGIN or ownership of the other zombies, nor indeed did not know that this type would rather zonk them than do me harm.  Well, at least not at their say so.  Ergo, they got zapped and wapped, and then frizzled and fried by their namesakes, and spontaneously combusted trying to enter the ‘real world’.  For you  see, they cannot SEE.   Me now, I knew it was merely a matter of time until they disintegrated &c.,  so I remained at peace and let them ‘self-destruct’.

    So where am I now? I shall not say.  Suffice it TO say, I still have not changed and I am still me.  My family will attest to that.

    My life’s journey continues.

    All of Life’s journeys are like Marathons:  In some places breezy, in some testing, in yet others seemingly beyond you.  Yet there are always water-stations scattered along the way; and for those who have the stamina, there is the joy, the satisfaction, nay the sense of accomplishment and, yes, pride in knowing that you did not quit, did not succomb to the terrain or climate, did not drop dead in shame but continued to the end…and crossed the finish line.

    I am reminded of that saying:  “The race is not for the swift but for those who endure to the end.”

    You see, life’s journey is the greatest most superior race of all, and to finish it with aplomb, yea even with style, is all that I ask of myself….and of you.

    Safe journey.

     
  • beulah888 9:19 AM on December 5, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Alejandro Morales-Loaiza, caption, , Death stalks, Egypt, Grief Loss and Bereavement, , John Donne, Photo credit, Rest, Sleep, St Anthony, , Twilight Zone, Walking-Dead, Zombies   

    Death Life And The Twilight-Zoners 

    Still-Life with a Skull, vanitas painting.

    Still-Life with a Skull, vanitas painting. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

    St Antony of Egypt

    St Antony of Egypt (Photo credit: Lawrence OP)

    Death stalks Hackney like a plague.  A Carriage carrying Death to every door is abroad on the streets and lanes and walks and byways.   It is covered in a cloud and cloaked in a cloak; but the cloud is the deceiver.

    La Muerte | Death | La Mort

    La Muerte | Death | La Mort (Photo credit: Alejandro Morales-Loaiza)

    Hackney, London, has given me nothing but grief, so I am pleased to see it get its comeuppance.   Grieved and grief-stricken may those that struck me be.

    How could someone live in a place for over six years and have no-one nearby on whom that person would feel free to call upon for assistance in an emergency?   I figure it is because those that live nearby are not neighbours.  Or friends.  One would call upon neighbours or friends.  Or even good strangers.   So if that person does not feel free to call upon those nearby, then it must be because that person knows (not feels, thinks or surmises) that those nearby are not going to be of assistance.  Does the Butcher save the pig when it squeals?  Can an enemy or foe give you comfort?  Would the Usurer relieve you in your debt?

     

    Death.  A panacea to many.

     

    Life a threat to some.

     

    Some fear Life more than Death.  They have their heads on backwards; are backward facing even as they walk backward, thinking they are facing forward.  Not seeing where they are going, only noting where they have trespassed.  Hoping that by so doing they will not have to face the reality of their transgression.

     

    Life is about forward movement.  About upliftment.  Death is a finality of that.  So the walking zombies, inhabited by bats and vermin and the bugs of death, cannot bear to face Life.  They therefore walk backwards less they stumble upon the truth.  If they try to walk forward then they are forever looking backward, peeping over their shoulders in fear that someone, something, will recognize them for the frauds they are.  They are afraid of the Truth.  That Life is greater than Death.  That the place they belong to is less than a no-man’s land.  And perchance they fall back into the void from whence they came, they pretend to know where they are going, pretend not to care, and turn their back.  But the Truth is there before and behind them.  The truth being that they are a Lie.

     

    They have no future, nothing to look forward to.  Nothing behind them that has not gone on before.  That is past.

    Their future is their past and their past their present.  Hence they have no real present and no future. Therefore, how can they be?

     

    So whichever way they go or turn they are in an eternal never-land.

     

    Twilight-zoners.    The ‘Walking-Dead’.

     

    Eye death

    Eye death (Photo credit: @Doug88888)

     

     

     

     

     

     

    DEATH, be not proud, though some have called thee
    Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:
    For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
    Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
    From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be,
    Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;
    And soonest our best men with thee do go–
    Rest of their bones and souls’ delivery!
    Thou’rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
    And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell;
    And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
    And better than thy stroke. Why swell’st thou then?
     One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
     And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

       “Death” by John Donne

     
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