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www.duluxdreams.wordpress.com

Major sunday morning brain activity!

Just had a major breakthrough on the bus this morning. Life is a waking dream.

Let me repeat:

Life is a waking dream

More on this brain activity later!

Currently reading: The sorrows of Young Werther (By Goethe)

When one is in love, besotted, with another, then one sees meanings everywhere and even the slightest happenance can move one to joy or despair. In this classic book Goethe describes, with almost painful honestly, how every man who has ever lived has felt when in the throes of love. There is a scene where young Werther, who is in love with Lotte, is at the carriage of her home to wave goodbye after a party. There are others there too, all waving goodbye, and young Werther is trying to catch lotte's eyes but:

"but ah, her eyes they gazed from one to another! But not at me! Me! Me! I was the only one who saw nothing there but her, and she did not look my way! My heart bade her a thousand adieus! But she did not see me! My carriage drove off and my eyes filled with tears for she had not looked at me! I looked out of the carriage and saw her bonnet and she turned to look back, ah! at me! But I am left with uncertainty. Did she look back at me or not! Was it me? Oh, what a child I am! How can one be so hungry for a look!"

I love the way Goethe describes the torments of being in love. Have we not all felt like this at some point in our lives? If not a look then perhaps a text message or email or an action or some other thing. We look for deeper meanings in the smallest things, in scraps and as a result we create a world of imagined things, of imagined lives, of imagined feelings. A whole world dwelling inside our heads constructed on the most flimsiest of foundations.

So this is what it is like to be human!

Women, sex and ancestors

What does a woman have to do? Nothing! Just sit there looking all pretty. She doesn't have to do anything. She doesn't have to be brilliant at something. Nor does she need to earn lots of money, or write delicious poetry. She just needs to sit there looking all pretty and all the stupid men in the world will run after her like mosquitoes circling a light! These braindead droids of men! What do they chase? Do they chase genius? Do they chase wisdom? No,  they chase beauty with their penises!

I see them everywhere! Drunk and mad is how they look and chase. Like drug addicts! The will is strong in them. The will to find a mate and have babies! There is nothing else but this that occupies the lives of people. But why?  Why? Because if we didn't. If my ancestors asked these same questions and didn't bother - then I wouldn't be here! I am here because my ancestors loved sex. Loved women and men. They never asked the who and where and whys. They just got on with it! Should I thank them?

No. I don't give a monkeys! I never asked them and they never asked me. "hey Wasim we're just gonna have some sex but the result will be that sometime in the future you will be born. Is that OK with you?"

I would not have given them permission!

Postcard to my Mother

visit...

http://duluxdreams.wordpress.com/

Life as dream

They lived in a dream. The 'Gurani' Indians that numbered 500,000 and were spread between the Atlantic coast to the east and the Andes to the west. Their whole life a narrow dream. A dream populated with spirits and the souls of ancestors. A world they made sense of in their rituals. And then the Europeans arrived in their great black ships like aliens from another planet.  With their blazing metal swords and booming angry guns. They came on the waves on flying ships with huge 'wings'. Oh father! Make sense of the world to me! Father does not know. This is the beginning of the end. Oh father!  What I thought I knew and what I know. The gulf infinite.

I is someone else

"I is someone else". So begin the adventures of an Arthur Rimbaud: poet, incurable romantic, bad boy, bad mannered poster child of the new french poetic style. He was famous for his poetry, yet he wanted to be someone else. To fry his brain and become another. To step outside himself. How to do?  How to do? We take holidays to distant lands to escape. But do we really escape? How can you escape when you take yourself along with you. The key is to become another on your travels. Leave your old self behind. Leave it behind. Start anew. See all through another's eyes. Think the thoughts of another. Be another. Be. Like. No. Other.

Planning for Travels in Chile

Sometimes it is the planning and giddy anticipation of what is to come that sets the mind a-racing the heart a-beating, the imagination a-soaring. Like a modern day Ferdinand Magellan I feel. What will I find there? What will it be like? Will I fall off the edge of the world? Will I discover the secret of life?

A case of Bouffée délirante

The World is my Oyster...

Why is it that I am drawn to places on the edge?
At the edge of the world - I seek to find - something.
What I know not. Perhaps the answer will reveal itself - like a rainbow in a puddle -
only then to disappear just as quickly.
A place to belong - is that what I seek?
A sense of home?
To be able to sigh: 'Yes, I have finally arrived. This is where I belong'
Perhaps I am chasing phantasmas. Chasing rainbows.


Perhaps in my restless and reckless heart, I seek answers - to questions
which have none.


Last night lying in bed I realised in a fit of clarity that my life was meaningless
like a slap in the face it was. Like cold water thrown over me - I realised that nothing mattered - if I die - If I live - what I do - what I don't
it's all in vain - in the end. In the cold dark cosmic mirror between the stars,
you see no reflection and when you ask - you only hear your question.
And in last nights fit of clarity I also realised,
I could do anything...anything I wanted. Nothing matters in the end so why
not make this matter. THIS. This one and only life. This my only chance. This existence.


In the supreme face of cosmic apathy and indifference the best thing
is to stick a big 'V' at nature and scream fuck you!


It makes one feel free. Super free. To be able to say: fuck what the world say's.
I never asked for this. I will do as I want,
and nobody can stop me...


And it's true. Nobody can.


the truth is,


I really am not afraid.


And THAT scares me!


People seek order and 'stability' - when all around them chaos rages like a storm,
tossing their best laid plans to the wind.


And in the end, what do we have to live forward to?


Death.


it will come one day.


And when death comes knocking on my door,
I want to let it in happily. 'Come in death' I want to say. Not
'Keep out! Not now!'


A life lived 'deliberately', is the only life worth living.




Hahahahaha.


Yep, that's me.



I leave you now with a song that is perfect for this.

It's called 'Innuendo'...and it's by my favourite band of all time. The best band in the world! -  Queen.

This really is something special. Read the lyrics. Enjoy.

Lyrics: Innuendo

(One two three four)

While the sun hangs in the sky and the desert has sand
While the waves crash in the sea and meet the land
While there's a wind and the stars and the rainbow
Till the mountains crumble into the plain

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
Tread that fine line
Oh we'll keep on trying yeah
Just passing our time

While we live according to race, colour or creed
While we rule by blind madness and pure greed
Our lives dictated by tradition, superstition, false religion
Through the aeons, and on and on

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
We'll tread that fine line
Oh oh we'll keep on trying
Till the end of time
Till the end of time

Through the sorrow all through our splendour
Don't take offence at my innuendo

You can be anything you want to be
Just turn yourself into anything you think that you could ever be
Be free with your tempo be free be free
Surrender your ego be free be free to yourself

Oooh oooh
If there's a God or any kind of justice under the sky
If there's a point if there's a reason to live or die
If there's an answer to the questions we feel bound to ask
Show yourself - destroy our fears - release your mask

Oh yes we'll keep on trying
Hey tread that fine line
Yeah we'll keep on smiling yeah (yeah yeah)
And whatever will be will be
We'll keep on trying
We'll just keep on trying
Till the end of time
Till the end of time
Till the end of time

Happy 65th birthday Freddy!

Time to break free...

Isabels birthday pics: Return of the Crazies - part uno

The church of Modernity.

Here I am. It's Sunday morning. Monday is a bank holiday and the carnival is in town. I spent last night at a friend's place in West London. As I'd agreed to meet my friend later in the evening and since I had arrived in the area a little early, I had plenty of time to kill. So what does one do when one has time a-plenty in Shepherds Bush? Visit the brand new church ofcourse!

I know what you are thinking. What is this church to which I refer? Well It is no ordinary 'church'. Like all churches it has high vaulted ceilings. Like most churches it has a dome roof of clear glass through which heavenly light showers through lighting the top of the heads of the congregation and worshippers. But this is no ordinary congregation and this no ordinary church either.

The church I am referring to is called 'The Westfield Shopping Centre' and people flock to it in their thousands in search of answers! They visit the house of Gucci and the house of Armani. They prostrate themselves at the Emporium of Adidas and seek wisdom from the oracle of Apple. They walk around for hours and hours like benumb zombies circling the two floors of the church like they do in Muslim Mecca. And then, having ostensibly found what they are looking for, they return home satisfied and content.

Until that is the next morning when they wake up and realise nothing has changed. Their lives are still as meaningless and empty as before. They are still none the wiser. Life continues to show them a mysterious face. They look at yesterday's shopping bags and wonder why they brought what they did. At the time, in the church of Westfield, that Prada handbag and the new Iphone4 was answering all their prayers. But today in the cold and honest and harsh light of the morning, in the light of their room and amongst the ordinary furniture of their home, that bag looks different. It seems they were duped. They were lied to. Salvation does not live in the church of Westfield.

I spent five hours in the church of Westfield yesterday and I didn't feel a thing.

Actually wait I lie. I did feel something.

I felt profound relief when I got out. At times it felt like being in a circus. A nightmare. A fairground ride.  A merry-go-round but without the merriment.

What I can see today

I can see a blonde mother with her teenage daughter and younger son. Mother and daughter want to go into T. K. Maxx for more shopping but the son is standing outside refusing to go in. The poor lad has had enough shopping with these never-satisfied women! He wants out. Who can blame him?

I can see a couple holding hands. Now he has put his arms on her shoulder - weakly. He feels uncomfortable. Are they meeting in central London illicitly? Perhaps her parents don't approve of him? She is pretty and there is an air of royalty about her. She has a certain grace and walks as if she is comfortable in her own skin. Comfortable in who she is. Confident. They say confidence is sexy and it can't be faked.

What is confidence and why are some people more sure then others? Do they know or understand something that lesser mortals don't? Do they have access to the secret of life or some other esoteric knowledge?! Is confidence steeped in the real world or is it more about how you feel inside? The world is full of people who have something to be confident about but aren't confident at all. And the world is full of even more people who have less to be confident about but are very confident indeed.

I look at the couple again. I know what it is. As a writer you must get into and under the skins of people, and I think I have understood those weak gestures. That luke-warm hand draped on the shoulder. That wet kiss like a fish. That weak fire of passion that burns not like a roaring tiger but a mouse. He is not sure if he deserves her. That's what it is. He thinks she might be too good for him. Yet it is this same feeling of inadequacy that he has, that will fuel his jealousy and eventually drive her away from him. I can see their future in a weak kiss!

I feel like I can see everything today. Nothing escapes me. Perched as I am on this lofty peak why don't I cast this gaze, this all seeing eye, inwards. What will I find in me? Perhaps I am afraid?

Yes I am afraid. Better to keep the demons locked up!

And throw away the key.

Mobile blogging from my new 'Samsung Galaxy S2' smartphone

The future just got better. The future is bright. The future is Orange. The future is mobile blogging.

This blog entry is being written, composed and posted from the balcony of a friends flat. I am not in front of a computer. I am standing outside with the rain lashing at my feet - and i am writing this from my brand new smartphone.

I am trying to think of words to express my proudness. Erm...is proudness the right word? Or maybe better to say to express my feeling of utter drunken amazement at being able to do this. To be able to post a blog entry from anywhere on this fucking planet! I feel like Superman. Not Nietzches Uber man, but Clark Kent`s alter ego. I cannot believe and can barely comprehend the possibilities mobile `on the go` blogging have suddenly opened up. You have no idea! The floodgates have suddenly opened up for me. I can now post 'instantly' what i think the very moment i think it. I am so happy i think i am about to cry. I am er...no not drunk...just a little sozzled n inebriated. No! I should not write in textology. Shame on me! Full sentences only. I am still getting used to typing on this wonderful touch screen. Yes it is smaller then the typing surface of a laptop - but it has predictive text and it can learn my typing behaviour. It knows what words I mean. It knows me very well....and we only just met!

Wow! Today i am proud to be human. Proud at our - the human races's achievements. Proud to be able to blog mobilingly...is that even a word?!

Over and out.

This message was sent by a slightly drunk Me from the Samsung Galaxy S2. Gosh! I think i am in love. I have found my soul-mate. I have found 'her'. The 'one' i have been searching for all of my miserable life (i wonder if she allows me to type in italics?)

Please visit my alter-ego at my new blog (click on link below)

http://duluxdreams.wordpress.com/

Currently reading: Open City (By Teju Cole)

Along the streets of Manhattan, a young Nigerian doctor doing his residency training wanders aimlessly. The walks meet a need for Julius: they are a release from the tightly regulated mental environment of work, and they give him the opportunity to process his relationships,  his present, his past - his recent breakup. Though he is navigating the busy parts of town, the impression of countless faces does nothing to reduce his feelings of isolation. But it is not only a physical landscape he covers; Julius crisscrosses social territory as well, encountering people from different cultures and classes who will provide insight on his journey - which takes him to Brussels, to the Nigeria of his youth, and into the most unrecognisable facets of his own soul. 

Extraordinary stuff.

The Best Gringo's Guide to South America ever!

http://www.amazon.co.uk/South-American-Handbook-Footprint-Handbooks/dp/1907263438/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1314135324&sr=8-1

This is required reading material for any Gringo of quality...


The above is a link to the best guide to South America. It quite simply tramples the 'Lonely Planet' guide and all other guides into the Peruvian mud! Why is it better then other guide books? Well let me tell you:


a) It is updated every year - so has the latest information (unlike the Lonely Planet Guides which are updated every 4-5 years!)
b) It tells you the time-tables for bus services in even the most remotest of mountain regions - places you wouldn't even dream of going. Places that civilisation hasn't touched and where the locals look like inbred mutants. But it is nice to have that information in your fingertips - just in case!
c) It has a hard cover and is small and light.

Caught by the Travel Bug...in South America

In around and abouts mid-December 2011, I will be heading off to Latin America for a much needed spiritual awakening. My inspiration meter is low - in fact, the tank is almost empty!


So to recharge, and re-boot, I will be donning those rugged trainers, the jeans, and the ruck-sack + camera + little laptop (for mobile blogging) + kindle (loaded with a lifetimes worth of reading material) + 2 t-shirts + 1 shirts + a healthy dose of wanderlust + passport + money + contact lenses + plane tickets + Latin translator (they speak Latin in Latin America silly billy!) + Christian cross (In case I need to prove I am a Christian) so that I am not burnt at the stake by some Conquistadores or followers of Pizzaro.

The idea being to wonder about this part of the world a little bit. It is a big part of the world and I intend to see as much of it as possible before I die. No! You have misunderstood me! I have no intention of actually DYING on the trip! Oh no. I hope to stay alive if possible. I hope to keep the ghost for a while yet - the ghost of my life force.


And wonder I will, wherever the heart will take me, wherever I feel like it, in my own style and my own pace and on my own legs. I will not hurry. I will not rush. I will not aim to see as much as possible so that I can tick those "I have been there" boxes. I will not be a tourist. I will not take stupid photos of myself in front of Machu Picchu to tell people that 'I WAS HERE!' - How degrading! LOOK AT ME! LOOK WHERE I AM! LOOK WHERE I HAVE BEEN! - Idiotos...


No! No! No!

I have better style then those idiot tourists with 2 brain cells. Oh yes! I will be a wanderer. An adventurer! An explorer of the mind. I will seek out and discover new life. And new things. And if I am lucky - really really lucky - I might even...find ...myself.

Oooh, how exciting to find oneself. But how strange no? To go to the other side of the world looking...for yourself! But isn't that what real travel is really all about? Its not places we seek. It's not little corners of the world. Its not caves or secret beaches or remote deserts or peaceful mountains. We seek ourselves. The truth is, that in modern life in a modern metropolis like London - you never have time for yourself. Its always about yourself in relation to others. You're never on your own. In fact - people are afraid of there own shadows and reflections. That is why whenever they are alone for a minute they take out their Iphones and Blackberries and get connected! Or play games! So they don't have to have an inner dialogue with themselves!


But who are you? Who really am I? Who is anybody? To answer this question you must surround yourself not by others, but by your own voice. And I'll be hearing plenty of 'my own voice' alone on my travels.

The truth is that I am good friends with myself. We (me and me) get on very well! I got to know me very well over the course of many previous travels and discussions. But I have been neglecting me for a while now! I have put me in a closet and I have shut the door. But it is now time. Time to let me out.

I can't wait! - Hahahaha

Tonight I will watch 'The Motorcycle Diaries' as a celebration and a sort of mental preparation for South America.

Over the course of the next weeks and months I will be writing a whole host of travel related articles on this blog. So watch out! Some will be useful. Some a little strange. Many a little mad. And most will no doubt be totally and wholly out of this world. If you want to join me on an adventure - an adventure with no limits - then stay with me. You might not be travelling with me - but through the medium of the printed word - through the use of 26 letters of the English alphabet - I may be able to work some magic with my fingers - and for a while - for an instant - transport you - as if on a magic carpet - to my side...


I will take you with me on my trip, and you will see and taste and feel - as I.

I leave you now with the following words:

We travel not for trafficking alone;
 By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should not be known
 We take the Golden Road to Samarkand.