good times bad times

I am about to be 30 and my life is such a mess , No future , no aspirations , no gold in pocket  , no sex on horizon. no friends in background , no porosches , no mansions .

HI my name is G , well I was always not that depressive , non coherent  . self pity lad .  , on the contrary I was a destined supernova  heir apparent to the king of good times . .You Know when I was a youngie when concept of right and wrong had'nt dawned on me , I used to think Of myself as the Special One  , superior from the masses a blue blood if you will , and believe it or not  I lived quite a bit of my life as a special one ,  as a star among them all the black holes.When got ready to face the world   first came Strauss then came monk ,then came Mary Jane ,then came Lucy , then came the whole lot of them with different names shapes and sizes ............ .And finally Trouble came that too with all its cousins ,  nieces and just about everyone it knew and they have stayed here since then , changing my neons and purples into pitch black darkness . .But still you might catch me with songs about  good ol times and jack and jane in my hands . ...




In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man,Now I've reached that age, I've tried to do all those things the best I can.No matter how I try, I find my way into the same old jam.

This too shall pass

Whenever I've gone through tough times, well-meaning people have told me that God/the universe does not give us more than we can handle. Well, I've been going through a tough time recently, and sure enough, that old saying has been tossed my way on several morose occasions. After some careful consideration, I've decided it's bull$#*!. As an aphorism, it only makes sense in hindsight - after you've managed to crawl from the wreckage of whatever calamity that God/the universe decided to toss your way. No one ever uses it to comfort someone who's been hit by a bus or turned into a puddle of goo by flesh-eating bacteria (although in the right circumstance, that could be a hoot). Another thing I hear a lot is, "this too shall pass." Again, I know these are words meant to reassure, but somehow they always leave me feeling that heartbreak, rage and grief are going to come shooting out of me like kidney stones through an inflamed urethra. For someone in crisis, I think a more accurate and helpful assessment of reality would be, "Love, sex, food, friendship, art, play, beauty and the simple pleasure of a cup of tea are all well and good, but never forget that God/the universe is determined to kill you by whatever means necessary." Consider trying that next time you're called on to do some consoling. If you're feeling impish, you might also try, "According to the rules of comedy, your suffering will be funny after an undetermined length of time. Maybe not while you're having your gangrenous leg sawed off, watching your home burn down or learning how to be intimate with your cellmate, but, in the big scheme of things, soon."

get over

I believe that in order to walk through grief, fear, loneliness, despair, confusion and anger without recourse to drugs, alcohol, over-eating, over-sexing, or the endless mind-numbing distractions provided by Western culture, one must become a spiritual warrior. I further believe that the pay-off for enduring suffering, for soberly embracing the inevitable bouts of emotional pain that life brings, is wisdom and serenity in the face of calamity. But make no mistake here, the path of the warrior is treacherous and cannot be walked alone. To survive, he must have brothers and sisters-in-arms to carry him when he buckles. When we lived and died in small tribes, this principle of mutually supporting one another through the trials of life was deeply woven into the fabric of the group mind. With the advent of towns and cities we were forced to live with the daily dilemma of being desperately alone and yet desperately needing one another. Which is why we are, by design, always seeking new tribes. With that in mind, I humbly offer a simple guideline to evaluate the efficacy of any tribe you might encounter on your path to becoming a spiritual warrior: if they ask for your money or access to your crotch, run away. If they ask for your money, smile unceasingly, never blink, and guarantee to make you a demi-god, running away will not suffice. Change your mailing address and briefly reconsider drugs, alcohol, food, sex and TV.

musings

Don't fall for a woman who has had sex with one of your rock n'roll heroes. No matter how emotionally evolved you think you are, you will never enjoy listening to Eric Clapton again. 
Don't use emoticons. You're too old to communicate like a twelve-year old girl. 
Don't forget that you are the product of a culture that went stark raving mad about ten thousand years ago. Adjust your thinking accordingly.
Don't eat anything bigger than your head. True in the sixties, true today.
Don't believe that crap that you're as young as you feel. Your feelings lie. 
Don't hug men while shaking their hand. Enough already with that. The shake/hug (shug?) is probably something Roman guys did when their empire was in decline

reasoning

Okay, I'm just gonna say it out loud. There are times when going crazy looks attractive. And I'm not talking about becoming charmingly eccentric. I've already got that covered nine ways to Sunday. No, I'm talking about purposely emigrating to the land of lunacy. That special psychological zip code where The Ancient Laws of Behave Yourself no longer apply. My "reasoning" is simple. It takes a great deal of effort to sustain a conservative, trustworthy persona. Surrendering that effort would involve, from a Freudian perspective, a conscious dismantling of the super ego - that part of the psyche entrusted with enforcing parental and socially approved actions. And therein lies the allure of going full frontal wack-a-doodle. The constant energy required to pass as normal would suddenly become available for doing and saying whatever pleases me in the moment. Imagine it. The id and libido completely unbound by any and all moral or cultural restrictions. Hmm... Probably won't need the shrink anymore... might need a lawyer

coming back to an era

listen carefully and you will hear the excitement building . .like arriving in rural field and detecting the noise of beats , bleeps and bass carried on the wind from a far -off sound system , there's a buzz in the air that's bound to set the hearts of party animals racing .
Hold tight my another summer/ winter of love  explosion of politics , fashion and unbridled hedonism  to rival that 0f 67, or disco movement of 80s seems to be horizon for us to savor .
The conditions, on the surface ,seem perfect . Balearic music , acting like dance-floor Viagra , spate of revolutions spread thru making ppl sit n see the bigger picture instead of the rat race
The first summer of love saw 100,000 people from burgeoning hippy movement descend on Haight Ashburry  in san fransicso to celebrate free love , free drugs , free form dancing and a rejection of the politics and square lifestyle of post-war America .
The flower Children were born in a time when the hope of Kennedy had been shot and Vietnam was cracking up And while they didnt end capitalism  war or racism , they made an impact which still echoes today in green movement , yoga and eastern mysticism becoming hip ,the flagrant use of drugs and mindless shagging and the most important cultural gift of all times  The music and fuleld by the most potent mind altering lsd , . .You had to be there to see and experience  the chaos and I most definitively wasn't .
Even tho the first summer of love was defeated by strong willed govt , the mind blowing combination of drugs and repetitive beats characteresied the second summer of love with circus having moved to great britian in 88/89 .
Against  a backdrop of  Thatcherism and riots and culture of thuggery , unemployment and crap pop , the arrival of house music and ecstasy made lives colorful and fun .
And now the circus is planning to threaten to come down to our shores and how . . With the same socio economic environment that preceded the arrival of both the summer of  love , the wave of discontent is spreading far and wide and  people looking for  the life beyond govt  propaganda fueled
paranoia and the mediocrity   
life for most ppl over here is grow up,get married, have kids For such people to be presented with a period of euphoria and happiness  will be amazing . why should life be defined by sameness.
First the seeds of rave culture on our shores were planted at Goa , our very own Ibiza , from where its spread out through least of all the Himalayas , where there already was a large population of travelers looking to get stoned on hi quality hashish .And add to the fact unnecessary paranoia govt of ours have against the rave culture and natural highs and unexpected and unwanted behavior of our authorities towards it has only gone and make it look much more glamorous and appealing for a growing up kid .
When I was growing up , cock-rocking guitar music was what did for us , but the gen of today has access to all the cultures of the world and they are gobbling up this electronic a music fad 2 . . Sooner or later they are bound to discover Ecstasy/Lsd and high BPM music and the euphoria associated with it , it will only lead people to chase the indescribable buzz of the right drugs and the right music long enough to accquire trhe chronic love for the rave culture .
The previous summer of love served there purpose by causing a genuine wave of social change  .You raved and rocked with people irrespective of there social and economic background .You grinned , hugged and slept with them .With the govt effectively criminalizing people getting together and enjoying music lovers are bound to be drawn together rather then be pulled apart like haters want it to be .
So will it happen ? perhaps the time is ripe , but somehow I dont think so - atleast 69 is not expected to happen in a similar way with that intensity .Tho the general dissatisfaction with the establishment is just like as it was in 60s in States or 80s in London .The  thugs are back with guns and hate , people are skint and pissed off with polical status quo and stink of excessive violence used against our brothers in the papers everyday . common man has lost all the trust and touch with the !% of our population .
But on other hand , hedonism is more easily available to everyone , there are more clubs , more chances to party than ever before .We have more options to decide what to do with our nights
Music isnt bringing us together  so much like in 70s when it was the most  common mode of voicing your dissent .A real summer of love needs to be disconnected from social boundaries and strictures .If the Gandhis or sme1 from 1% were on getting fucked up in a field with the common people , maybe that would signal a third wave of love. But shuttering themselves up in a room  with there hangers-on does not make a rave .
Most people today have access to to more then most we ever had , nodoubt we are in relative comfort but deep inside we have become absolete , we have been so caught up in rat race  that compassion , brotherhood  have died and we are surviving on anti depression tablets , so maybe we do need to forget our worldly belongings and get down and get dirty in the fields to the music .
Perhaps it takes bad times to usher in such good times . a summer of love is a revolution , of sorts . Then again  Third summer of love could happen if someone introduced some proper amazing new drugs . .


Till some point