All Is Vanity.

I'm not going to "let go of the past". My life moves forward nevertheless. I change my thinking patterns and behavior and still am the same. Exchanging one high for another to ease the pain of being and pretending that that pleasure is not temporary.

Its pitiful being human.Its even more pitiful to see the things we do for comfort and security and inner peace and love and other human yearnings.Some pray, some chant, some think ,some build , some struggle and some kill and yet all cry and hope and die. Still we produce children to be a part of this growing mass of dying and rotting flesh that covers the thinnest layer of this insignificant hostile planet we call home.

I gazed above the sky and all I saw was space and matter and energy and the energy,all of it, was not sentient and yet am told to believe that this sixty-odd year existence has a purpose; a time of trial even though I am created with many, many frailties. How pathetic it is to believe in caring, gardian spirits or that objects and images can help or heal us. How egotistic to think that an omnipotent benign god wants or needs or recognition, attention or praise. How futile it is to hope that something will come from the sky to rescue us.How fantastic it is to assert that the millions of fellow humans who have perished during the last 50,000 years still exist and live as spiritual beings in a faraway place. How dangerous is the mass hysteria that is called religion, that WE created.

I have embraced the work of all the teachers and leaders and priests and pundits and thinkers and writers who lived before me and believed and lived what I believed only to learn the painful truth that man is either truly alone or is possibly being decieved and tortured by some invisible, superior force or beings that co-exist here with us; the former is the more probable.
I am perhaps the only artist who find repulsive all that all that is considered beautiful, because I've learned that we are genetically 'programmed' to perceive any objects, animate and inanimate, whose dimensions are conformed to the symetrical 1 : .618 ratio as beautiful. The most beautiful flowers are just plant cells and water to me and colour and hues of colour, an explained and understood illusion.

I am perhaps the only musician who who abhor the love of the sound of music because I've learned that music, the purest of all the arts, although it stimulates, motivates and inspires us, it has always fallen short of stopping us from killing each other or being of benefit to humanity in any positve lasting way.

I am an aspiring lover who hates love because I learned that its just a series of chemical reactions in the brain that even animals possess.

I am one, among the thousands of poets who know, without the shadow of a doubt, that their words will stimulate all who read and hear, like the vibrator on the clitoris, but will be forgotten or exchanged for the next cheap trill.

I am a patriach who knows that the sixth generation of his offspring will not know his name and that all the work of his hands that he leaves behind will eventually be wiped off the earth.

I have learned that my perception of reality is just my perception of reality and that reality is relative and even, also does not exists as do many of our illusions.

Having garthered all the knowledge and wisdom that I have so far stored in my mind and in some the secret places of my heart; I have learned that, in the end, the wisdom and knowledge of all the world would prove useless to the finite organisms that we are for the dead are not conscious. It was said by a wise man 3500 years ago that 'all is vanity' and I've prove to myself, with much sorrow, that his words were true.

So Peter, from my view of the horizon, I humbly advise you, that instead of seeking the answers in the religions and cultures of dead and dying and conquered and contemporary civilizations, or in the veneration of objects and spirit beings; who are more useless to humans than they are to themselves ( if for one second they ever existed or do exist), or in attempts to alter or enhance the brain with molecules of flora: just walk.

Walk gently this good earth.

And while you're at it.....reach deep inside and take the best part of you give it away to someone so the horde of humanity can trample it underfoot.