THE STORY OF JOHNNY WHOOPER SWAN We go to school trusting our parents. We meet a teacher there who stands up front with a big desk, and a pointer. She or he trains us in an authoritative manner. We attach mentally to a life long need for authority in order to live lives successfully. Right so far? In my case, at the age of 25 I was ready to enter the practice of law where I hoped for success and a happy life finally. Very shortly, very shortly, I became anxious. There was a foreboding. I was made more uncomfortable with each experience. Law work is nothing like what I was told it would be. The system is corrupt. But I still cling to my expectation that career success is necessary to my happiness as a man. Each day my grasp of what the fuck success amounts to after all becomes more clouded, murkier. I hear songs on the airwaves and at concerts which describe my life as the life of a fool. What am I becoming? I want to rip off my business suit to run naked in the street with my hair on fire! But I am too afraid. In strange, weird (weird comes from a word meaning wise), fragmented steps I go about a journey of my own believing myself to be the first man to have failed in such a total way which journey works so as to break up my career, end a marriage, and start an entirely new way of relating with my two children whom I love deeply. Almost magically I meet a woman who is a career counselor who asserts a beautiful message that I am made to be joyful in my work everyday and at all levels. This understanding sets me on a completely new course. It is no longer a world of systems to me but an undivided one of unlimited beauty. It reminds me of a painting. A true masterpiece. I am drawn from within to learn the truth about my identity and nobody else can teach me that. From this point onward I will use thinking capacity for mastering mechanical processes and follow my heart, which includes my whole nature, which includes your whole nature and that of every human being for all the rest. I’ll go by the name Johnny Whooper Swan who does not explain itself to anyone. By my fruits shall I be known. Watch me soar!

Thursday, October 26, 2017

I GOT THE BLUES


 People, grownups, write and speak to each other in words 

 they have been shown that have been given assigned meanings

 which are derived by assembling the same words in different patterns

  with punctuation 

 marks 

accompanying.

         And people were told that the words are reliably assembled 

up from some factory to make sense. 

 And that the use is imperative. 

 For what? 

 Well, all I can finally tell is that it amounted to a method whereby we 

fell into a small black hole that led us to a wonderland of nonsense. 

 And the 

question is: Who Are You?




We were all forced to learn the words and their proper use

 tested and graded 

 according to our grasp of it 

 and 

 the world of nonsense hands out gifts 

to foster its secure position of authority 

 and keep us in line and striving 

against one another. It worked.
 I got the blues.
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