Apr 28 2012

Oblivious

Zippin’ on chamomile tea.. Contemplating life.

My shift starts within the hour and stretches itself through the whole dark night. I’ll go to sleep when the stars decides to vanish in favour of the next day. I’ve always liked the feeling of working on the night. Well, as long as you keep the all the senses active, it can really be a thrill. It always brings me back to night dives in my early diving career. Or scenes under the green nightsky, where the stars doubles in numbers, in the far beginning of my green service. Everyone of them is, in the end, romanticized and partially made up to glorify and activate some illuminate feeling of awesomeness in my life. Even though they’re all grounded and created through empiricism, they tend to maximize and gloat themselves in my mind – just to ensure myself i’m still on the way to some sort of self-made utopia.

I feel twitched. Or twisted maybe. Or maybe it’s just the stress that doing it.. In any case, it’s quite oblivious. Or tends to lean on that way. I  don’t always like it. More often though, I do not really care, and that frightens me more than anything else.

 

Do you trust yourself?

I really hope you do. There isn’t enough time for the contrary.


Mar 31 2012

Word

 

“What do I care for your suffering? Pain, even agony, is no more than information before the senses, data fed to the computer of the mind. The lesson is simple: you have received the information, now act on it. Take control of the input and you shall become master of the output.”
– Chairman Sheng-ji Yang


Jan 23 2012

Deo Volente

Time and times again I get disappointed. Is it in myself? Or is it towards the organisation I have vowed to follow?
Several times it happens. I momentarily lose faith in my promises to the world, again and again. Nothing is feels constant. Change is the only constant.

I look around and see the faces of my self-proclaimed brothers in arms. Am I one of these guys?
Dominated by lust, vanity and pride. They all made it to this point either with mere luck or by pure show-off. I cannot see my self identified. I am the loose link in the chain. I am on the outside looking inside. Or is it the way around?
One thing is certain: The way is not peaceful. Nor is it chaotic. It’s an irritating piece of gray goo. Feelings undeniably being pushed away by strange thoughts of blind contentment and future feelings of peace and ancient greatness. Often replaced to stand in the shadowy corner away from the spotlight, witnessing the other one taking the stage to recieve applause and tainted glory.
The old ones would see us as the wolf pack who followed the most beautiful angel God ever created, a.k.a. the bearer of light, earning our fate as hellhounds of an illusionary reality.
In the end though, we are all caged animals..

Enough of self despite and dellusional lies.
Time continue to show it’s inevitable control of our lives and grants me a feeling of pleasure when thinking of the not-so-far “leave”. Meanwhile we still conduct operations that stretches outside our previous jurisdiction. Giving high ranked officers the creeps, now used his big salary and to the warmth, calm and security that the chair at the computer desk has to offer.
Scouring across the Afghan fields and leaving a shoemark on their very doorstep, they shall know that we are not the ones that are hunted. We are the hunters. Our heritage and ranger brand tell it literally in our own native language.

Reconnaissance missions has been prioritized, giving us the details we need. Different village elders tells us the stories. Stories of how they come in the night, the ones without faces, and pray on their already poor resources. Stories of how they attack and slaughter other fellow human beings under a time of prayer, showing no religious respect. Other stories of how they come and take young men away from their families, never to be heard from again. They call them “not human”. Their shield is culture and religion. Their tools of trade is fear and lies.
Which reminds me of a saying that one of my comrades recited:

“Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total oblitiration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past me, I will turn to see fear’s path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
 

The words speak and burry themselves in the grounds as unshaken foundations.

 
I’m sure that’s what they would want me to say…
In any case, I don’t really give a damn anymore. Just give me what I want (?) and send me back, or even further if that is your wish, my Lord. Insha’Allah.

I love this life. I will see you soon, my love.


Jan 18 2012

Waterlessness

Dreams. They’ve become more vivid lately. Or is it lucid? I can’t really tell.
They prove to be a transformation and the sum of my daily thoughts, at least.

Water. All to often I regard it to be an infinite resource. As many others of my brethren on this planet. I disregard the thought and take for granted the amount of water I, alone, consume under one day in the timeline of our lives.
They say that the Earth’s surface has about seventy percent water compare to landmass, that ninety percent of life lives in the sea and even that the human body is made up of about seventy percent water aswell.
We, who read these words of undespicable truth, are part of one out of ten humans on the planet that should consider ourselves lucky. Or should we?

Yes, we should. In my dillusional perspective we have been granted a freedom that our ancestors could only dream of. Even if it’s only a fraction of a peace and freedom that we could ultimately achieve…

Read back. In my northern motherland a lot of people question the reason of having bottled water – reasoning that we always could pur water in a bottle from our kitchen or alike. This sort of “reasoning” is a luxury that few humans can thrive of. Even though it really should be a right to have clean water near your home for everyone. In my current position though, i’ve declined people that right. I’ve turned them down when they kiss my feet and look at me with hungry eyes… Why I say? Because we are only suppose to be here for their protection. They tell us not to give them anything, otherwise they would flock around us and overwhelm us in greed. We are the embodiment of security, favoured sons of the Archangel Michael and defenders of the true democracy that some alcoholic american politician made up when he was high…

Security of what?! A secure f*cking way towards their and our own apocalyptic, hateful, mind-numbing shitfaced doom considering how we all don’t give a **** about anything but our own egoistic and awesome lives.

– “I am so sorry…”
 – “It’s O.K. (zero killed).”
– “Is this another test?”
 – ” Yes.”
 

 
 Who knoweth the spirit of man that goeth upward, and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth? – 2:21 Ecclesiastes


Dec 28 2011

Forever

Forever thine, forever mine, forever ours.

 

“Such is my love, to thee I so belong,
That for thy right myself will bear all wrong. ”

– William Shakespeare


Dec 1 2011

Destined to Live

What about it?

I find myself in the beginning of a journey. A journey that will determine quite a lot and set a stamp in my book of life. In a few weeks, i’ll be going with my fellow comrades to Afghanistan. I’ve visited this historical and war-torned country once before, but just brief. Altough brief enough to give me a before-hand feeling of what is to come these following months – an exclusive cocktail of life’s strongest emotions; excitement, boredom, happyness, sorrow and love.. Shaken, not stirred. Please.

I will miss everything at home that makes my life worth living. Especially she who holds my love with the caring hand of a Goddess. I want her to feel it, and that she will be worshipped in her absence without question. Unable to express my feelings in human words, I will have to get back to this in a later chapter.

I do feel a lot more content these days than before. Although I can’t be sure that it isn’t my imagination, but somewhere I have to believe in my own creative evolution, so to speak. I will take time to meditate on this further to cristallize and focus on this feeling a bit more. Still, even though I might feel and seem content or mindful, it all do feel like a spectacular acting. Sometimes I even act infront of myself to stand for some delusional, fortifying, self-centered dream of mine. Healthy or not, I know my boundries. Some times, I’d rather not. Ignorance is bliss.

 

Mentoring.

I’ve been searching for a mentor-like persona for a great deal of my life. Not that internet sort of mentoring and not those ten minutes talks with a self proclaimed expert in some field. I would gladly dedicate my life to another person in the sense that he/she would teach me the very essence of living. And yes of course, the world is my neverending teacher. But sometimes I cannot interpret what the world need of me, and it’s in those times, I would need someone to translate and give me that poke on the nose and tell me that i’m not focused enough. I am tired of searching – Teachers in school, athletic trainers, officers in the military, friends of friends… The list goes on. But at the beginning of this year, I found a clear substitute for it, that I had forgotten existed. Books. They aren’t nearly as pedagogy as a human being can be, but they give me what I want – Information when I ask for it. Some books even tell me what to do to achieve different things. Isn’t it marvelous?

Seriously though, misunderstand me right, as you say in swedish. I love my newly christined fascination about books. But in the end, they are only as real as you make them. Like this text I am writing this very moment. Is it really me or you writing these words?

Love life!


Nov 4 2011

An Abstract Beginning

So here I am and will become. No more, no less.

I, once more, stand ready on the brink of my own imagination and storytelling. Just like standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down in the deep and dark abyss below. Ready to open up your arms and just let go, and fall all the way down. Until you reach your very own wonderland.

This is me trying to describe that wonderland and the insides of my head while I continue with my life and current work. These texts will be naked in both truth and lies… And in a sense, very much abstract.

 

Thank you for reading the first post of more to come. God bless you.