Last night I came to face one of the pleasures I had not yet been exposed. As if it were a club and I was not allowed to join. The night was good, connected to a wealth of information it finally felt like there were grounds here for committment, that Noosa may be an energy that I was after. We walked out of this bar for a cigarette, the smiles I saw felt more like a draw than a pull, in which it has been since arriving to Australia. Living free from the conformity . In guilt and conscious I bid myself a chance, and hope that the world could understand how important these days are. Finally, there might be something more than just small talk and whispering. The heart knows not the rules of everyday, but lives and operates, pumping on its own terms.
I am not the type to stand in the way of unity. A road trip is what we need. A deserted island, some music and one change of clothes. Sun and moon, sun following through to a glowing cloud ahead of dew moon.
As I indicated, time rules all unknown. After a week passed, the connection lived for the moment, but like all things that are meant to be short lived, came to an end. There is this bonding experience I can taste, expectations laid on thick by my own demeanour. One man hungry for a seasoned connection overseas. Something out of the movies. Really though. This is no film and I am no James Stewart.
Over here things are different, and Im not sure how to handle it alot of times. There is this friendly, humourous, carelessness that lives along the streets, but there is more than meets the eye. this guy is no master in human behaviour, but one thig I do know is that, if your in it, you gotta learn to play along. Something that I've never been very good at.
This can't be, beautiful beaches, radiant stars, alluring women, laid back sun bathing with laid back harmonics and Xavier Rudd palying in the background. There has to be a fall off. In life there has always got to be a balance. Here is me, trying to find mine.
Poisoned by the virtue I once lived as a young mans trials with danger and disguise. Colonel of his army, his fleet standing at command, continually setting themselves back. The conswtant struggle for truth, where disillusion will always result in discomfort. Toxins in all their drive to delerium bring the torment of depression that follow the high. This is no natural substance for the body to relax, collect molecules of strength and health. Here is the opportunity to skip the period of gain and growth, shooting straight to the cash prize, in all its delight. life cannot be led by instant gratification, the system we base our values on could, but the inner being need time to format. Heavy stimulation brings heavy collapse, maybe not immediately, depending on substance, but when you stack on layers of filth, it is hard to clean off.
Another poison we live alongside, that where in a flick of the switch we can connect with nearly anyone we like. Here we are, individuals growing up in a time where text messaging, and cellphones are a means of necessity. It is not, most people, it is all people. Loneliness is no longer a problem and the only way people desire conversation is passing it through a screen, which carry little to no emotion..
still, maybe I can free myself, here, especially, only if you allow your freedom to command sense. Instead, you may fall to the hands of this system, or that which donates life to it's work.
As a chef building a future for his path of choice sacrifice needs to be made and dedication a must. Social life ride after the hard pushing shift through heat, ambition, and what we call the shit. Direction of man takes very little to see within these walls.
There she sits, some sort of face looking for answers. In companionship, as well as through guidance along this road, dreams of a bigger picture, and undiscovered land. We really are nodifferent, but thought and distinguation hold in tact relationship and strength. Truthfully this man digs up friendships with a deeper compassion, but love lay with another.
Hypnotized by the waves curling in along this new point he has conquered on cue. For the last six days sweating it out in the nursery, trying to dignify some children, give them strength to be proud of. Now I am back where I belong. Shoreline soaking up the energy of nature, imagining what could come of this next terrordome of power. The downside of all this freedom, should I make a couple shifts and should the ship blow up in my face, the future has roads to ride and other opportunites provided.
For those that you meet, selfless, confident, honest, with will following through. Those are the comrades you concentrate connection. Those are the ones that deserve your attention. You and I both are good people, like anyone, make mistakes but for those that understand, provide understanding instead of spite.
This guy, a stranger up to the day. Somehow the guided path brought me there, and not a minute too late. Running dangerously short of finance in fear of a few sleepless nights, he offered not a minute too soon, a place to rest and orientate a future in this town.
Being a fellow Canadian, travelling chef, as well, understood the value of open arms. asking nothing in return. Help connect the dots and dig your fellow man out of tarnish, shed light on a troubling darkness. So here I am saying thank you. No matter what the future may lay ahead. Thanks for that couch, those few days, put the man on his feet, strong enough to accomplish in the face of demise.
Sadly, where I am given chance, I blow a hole in the boat. Its a signature of mine, classic operation. One of those characteristics I can sign off, on. Anytime I am introduced to an element of freedom and debauchery, the slave to the dragon proceed. For those who do not confide in his good nature, learn to feel bitter a front the face.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
a national walk
Sitting here, face to the ocean, the smell of the sea, water smashing against rocks that carry more history than any human race walking this continent. The stone grooves through pressure from the high tide. A boardwalk of charcoal rocks that once stood for something. how much love and nature does it take to satisfy his hunger. THis life is a gift that comes without clause and only when there are no longer expectations.
Ask for something long enough, maintain, persist, be true to the desire that live inside of your street car. Here is the opportunity, without being abrasive, forming a face and hands. Inside of this, will I open the box, will I challenge myself with a pace consistant to my surroundings and will I find charm instead of stress.
As time pass, age a stronger topic than ever, like days are running short and death is around the corner. Get this mind moving, live a healthy force with cardio activity, as long as I am on the highway headed somewhere, i don't feel like I will be old and grey. instead, on the four lane funnel to digestion, experience bring growth, hope and knowledge. even to the unexpected sitting quietly strumming a guitar under the overpass dreaming, there is no bound of age with this freedom.
Ask for something long enough, maintain, persist, be true to the desire that live inside of your street car. Here is the opportunity, without being abrasive, forming a face and hands. Inside of this, will I open the box, will I challenge myself with a pace consistant to my surroundings and will I find charm instead of stress.
As time pass, age a stronger topic than ever, like days are running short and death is around the corner. Get this mind moving, live a healthy force with cardio activity, as long as I am on the highway headed somewhere, i don't feel like I will be old and grey. instead, on the four lane funnel to digestion, experience bring growth, hope and knowledge. even to the unexpected sitting quietly strumming a guitar under the overpass dreaming, there is no bound of age with this freedom.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Noosa and its charm
Searching for work, where there are sparkles, where the day dawn and action step in. Finally got out to hitch, caught in the city where ladies look pretty but stressed by the blast of fast life flex. On the float, looking for familiar fish, feeling this pack, the shoulders dig in the instincts share guidance and I lonely soldier, looking for alliance.
Thumb is out, back to the wall, now that the story is out about our Breezy Bay. Brisee foir the night as the sun starts to stroke down all eyes on he, here with this impulse the road so close, already met a man, a woman and both of them kind, honest folk.
So here I lay back on the city bus, in the city rush flashing through to a time, home, with the forever cue. Like any teenaged prankster we share the same seats, no different on the turnpike, the butter cup, blended together all of us trailing the same feathers.
In reflection I try to dig deep into what the experience should be, should turn out. What for, accompaniment, so thought started burning along the wick. Instead of looking at what others were seeing, consuming, exploring, there is the opportunity to let the nose guide me, but instead i cut off my feet.
Well it is knees deep now, only moments from the core where the insects breed greed and filth, still, it seems like a city set quietly on the beach, so be kind young man with an open heart and let the place in.
The tide has changed for this young man on his quest to accomplish self substance. Head full of ideas, pockets empty of scratch, number one has become work and then, number two adventure.
Having found some dimension in Nimbin, how far does the rabbit hole go.
Back in Byron things were same old, Banff on a beach. Although it carried a handsome amount of beauty, the gauges were off for this man in his late twenties. So after a good amount of procrastination, thumbs honing in on the guided path, and a sign with the name Noosa.
Another coastal town, brilliant resort town full of debutant types sprawled across the beaches with their backs to the hotel. This strip has a little more class, a little more cash, a with cash comes good eating. What Byron may bein five years.
Finally some fine dining, a community of hospitality misfits, gathered like an army to live for their love, and party the same. You can feel the passion , but maybe it was getting lost in translation among the refugees in the Bay. And maybe I will see otherwise among these nightwalkers all in good time.
Now that I have found some work, with a nice wage and opportunity to develop on a more authoritative position, the light shine and good things come in threes... But the sun cannot always shine.
Thumb is out, back to the wall, now that the story is out about our Breezy Bay. Brisee foir the night as the sun starts to stroke down all eyes on he, here with this impulse the road so close, already met a man, a woman and both of them kind, honest folk.
So here I lay back on the city bus, in the city rush flashing through to a time, home, with the forever cue. Like any teenaged prankster we share the same seats, no different on the turnpike, the butter cup, blended together all of us trailing the same feathers.
In reflection I try to dig deep into what the experience should be, should turn out. What for, accompaniment, so thought started burning along the wick. Instead of looking at what others were seeing, consuming, exploring, there is the opportunity to let the nose guide me, but instead i cut off my feet.
Well it is knees deep now, only moments from the core where the insects breed greed and filth, still, it seems like a city set quietly on the beach, so be kind young man with an open heart and let the place in.
The tide has changed for this young man on his quest to accomplish self substance. Head full of ideas, pockets empty of scratch, number one has become work and then, number two adventure.
Having found some dimension in Nimbin, how far does the rabbit hole go.
Back in Byron things were same old, Banff on a beach. Although it carried a handsome amount of beauty, the gauges were off for this man in his late twenties. So after a good amount of procrastination, thumbs honing in on the guided path, and a sign with the name Noosa.
Another coastal town, brilliant resort town full of debutant types sprawled across the beaches with their backs to the hotel. This strip has a little more class, a little more cash, a with cash comes good eating. What Byron may bein five years.
Finally some fine dining, a community of hospitality misfits, gathered like an army to live for their love, and party the same. You can feel the passion , but maybe it was getting lost in translation among the refugees in the Bay. And maybe I will see otherwise among these nightwalkers all in good time.
Now that I have found some work, with a nice wage and opportunity to develop on a more authoritative position, the light shine and good things come in threes... But the sun cannot always shine.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Then end of the drive through Byron
Inside the belly is a guaranteed heroin problem that snatch up the souls of the simple hippie. Th town is a circus of typical hippie culture and propaganda. It all comes from a good place. It truely does. But if one more person asks me to buy a space cake or a cookie or some half assed body buzz, i may just have to go postal.
The economy of this town is funded by tourism primarily, and then also primarily, gorwing decent pot. This place came to be after a festival some thirty or forty years ago. The ones left over from 'Woodstock', stuck around and forged a community. They plotted land in this aboriginal origin, lived simply, spread seed and with the ever growing popularity of 'travel australia', you have Nimbin. Every store has hemp clothing, lava lamps, incents and gnarly psychadelic writing across the fronts of their stores. Every person on this little boardwalk is selling. Wheather its mushrooms, cookies, or bags of pot. One thing that is absolutely beautiful is the art this place takes on.
The graffiti is everwhere. and it is excellent. Absolutely everywhere, and absolutely beautiful. There is this pathway that leads to the backlot parking, a scripture has been written up some time ago, the rules and beliefs, the boundaries of this town truely at one time found on love and connection.
We got amazing weather, had a few sandwiches stoned against the clouds. When we first arrived in town to hit a cafe and have a blaze I tried a tofu burger with beets, sprouts and a peanut glaze. Fantastic! Smoking freely on these back patios, drinkin green tea sun blasting and each of us soaking up the minutes.
After the town came our time for discovery. Short on time, set out to find a jump off waterfall, instead we got a marvellous drive through the winding roads up hill for quite a while on top this canyon. This 'canyon' happens to acctually be a massive hole in the earth once made by a meteor and then shattered open a volcano that flowed and closed over. Now grows some of the best in agricultural needs. The sunset from up here was, unfortunately not so colourful, but as clear as the days on lake Taupo weeks before. What a spot.
But like all things must come to an end.
Setting out for a twenty four of bottles on a BMX before closing time half cut in the rain can prove to be a fine art. Most, i would like to think would fail, breakdown and mourn their loss. Then there are the true troopers, sweating every second to see the smiling faces. I can think of a few. Dukes. Archive. Harps. To name a couple on my ride.
This day started like a few others, BBQ at Casa Del Surf, but with our good mates Helen and Ellie now gone, off on their own missions. An American guy, John was returning form a trip through Tasmania, after a long journey through out, the house decided to welcome him back with open arms. The house had two new girls in it, both from France, to replace the Frenchman we lost just days before. Both full of the charisma of any young traveller free from the castle.
After eating and some rowdy drinkin full of my potato salad and such, the plan was to move over to Dolphin Beach, and when the police arrived to serve up detention, well it was a now or never scenario. Many bailed at last minute, in fact everyone. except two determined fire marshalls angry from betrayal. Im sure if Benny was still about he would have missioned along side!
It was Brit Greg and Myself, naturally, taking off steaming. After a rainfall ceased the wood was mild. We refused to let the inept ruin our night of stars and smoke, fire and brimstone.
Two wolves in the night howling at the high skies for a piece of the pie. The trembling ocean coasts, boisterous brash blasts of windily made waves. it had been raining for a good couple hours. That was everyone's cop out plea, but the tear drops quit and two split, if anything in respect for adventure alone!
Feet on the beach, we set up a teepee through all the wet drift and twig. Heavily soiled in the arms of Pure Blonde and Goon Juice, the constant smoke and lit failure had gone without bother, but only in a sense to push us harder and better yet, more clever. Clever thing would be to let the wet nights fire rest, but there was no sleeping on this conquest. Flame arose and for a couple minutes we had action, until again the mist made fists full of dynamite.
Still the men had their goon and the novelty of chance. Some stories to go forth and back, some late night wisdoms about evolution, kindness and merit. A clean, surgical cut right off of the chopping block.
That morning we both awoke on the front lawn of the hostel in the bleeding sun. Me, wrapped in a sleeping bag and Greg, one hand on the goon. Neither one wanting to quit on the sentimental value of stars and planets. Deep down inside I knew this would be the end for me and my ride in Byron. I would soon set with a sign that would take me on my last bit of cash to a town by thename of Noosa.
Casa Del Surf was another spectacular affair with the powers that rest within the walls of quaint, accustomed backpacker hostels. This was no corporate child making a mark, this was a simple house with a lot of beds. There were some great people and two shitty neighbours, and for that, this escape from the 'normality' would be shut down. But for me and the others that swarm within it's depths, never forgotten.
The economy of this town is funded by tourism primarily, and then also primarily, gorwing decent pot. This place came to be after a festival some thirty or forty years ago. The ones left over from 'Woodstock', stuck around and forged a community. They plotted land in this aboriginal origin, lived simply, spread seed and with the ever growing popularity of 'travel australia', you have Nimbin. Every store has hemp clothing, lava lamps, incents and gnarly psychadelic writing across the fronts of their stores. Every person on this little boardwalk is selling. Wheather its mushrooms, cookies, or bags of pot. One thing that is absolutely beautiful is the art this place takes on.
The graffiti is everwhere. and it is excellent. Absolutely everywhere, and absolutely beautiful. There is this pathway that leads to the backlot parking, a scripture has been written up some time ago, the rules and beliefs, the boundaries of this town truely at one time found on love and connection.
We got amazing weather, had a few sandwiches stoned against the clouds. When we first arrived in town to hit a cafe and have a blaze I tried a tofu burger with beets, sprouts and a peanut glaze. Fantastic! Smoking freely on these back patios, drinkin green tea sun blasting and each of us soaking up the minutes.
After the town came our time for discovery. Short on time, set out to find a jump off waterfall, instead we got a marvellous drive through the winding roads up hill for quite a while on top this canyon. This 'canyon' happens to acctually be a massive hole in the earth once made by a meteor and then shattered open a volcano that flowed and closed over. Now grows some of the best in agricultural needs. The sunset from up here was, unfortunately not so colourful, but as clear as the days on lake Taupo weeks before. What a spot.
But like all things must come to an end.
Setting out for a twenty four of bottles on a BMX before closing time half cut in the rain can prove to be a fine art. Most, i would like to think would fail, breakdown and mourn their loss. Then there are the true troopers, sweating every second to see the smiling faces. I can think of a few. Dukes. Archive. Harps. To name a couple on my ride.
This day started like a few others, BBQ at Casa Del Surf, but with our good mates Helen and Ellie now gone, off on their own missions. An American guy, John was returning form a trip through Tasmania, after a long journey through out, the house decided to welcome him back with open arms. The house had two new girls in it, both from France, to replace the Frenchman we lost just days before. Both full of the charisma of any young traveller free from the castle.
After eating and some rowdy drinkin full of my potato salad and such, the plan was to move over to Dolphin Beach, and when the police arrived to serve up detention, well it was a now or never scenario. Many bailed at last minute, in fact everyone. except two determined fire marshalls angry from betrayal. Im sure if Benny was still about he would have missioned along side!
It was Brit Greg and Myself, naturally, taking off steaming. After a rainfall ceased the wood was mild. We refused to let the inept ruin our night of stars and smoke, fire and brimstone.
Two wolves in the night howling at the high skies for a piece of the pie. The trembling ocean coasts, boisterous brash blasts of windily made waves. it had been raining for a good couple hours. That was everyone's cop out plea, but the tear drops quit and two split, if anything in respect for adventure alone!
Feet on the beach, we set up a teepee through all the wet drift and twig. Heavily soiled in the arms of Pure Blonde and Goon Juice, the constant smoke and lit failure had gone without bother, but only in a sense to push us harder and better yet, more clever. Clever thing would be to let the wet nights fire rest, but there was no sleeping on this conquest. Flame arose and for a couple minutes we had action, until again the mist made fists full of dynamite.
Still the men had their goon and the novelty of chance. Some stories to go forth and back, some late night wisdoms about evolution, kindness and merit. A clean, surgical cut right off of the chopping block.
That morning we both awoke on the front lawn of the hostel in the bleeding sun. Me, wrapped in a sleeping bag and Greg, one hand on the goon. Neither one wanting to quit on the sentimental value of stars and planets. Deep down inside I knew this would be the end for me and my ride in Byron. I would soon set with a sign that would take me on my last bit of cash to a town by thename of Noosa.
Casa Del Surf was another spectacular affair with the powers that rest within the walls of quaint, accustomed backpacker hostels. This was no corporate child making a mark, this was a simple house with a lot of beds. There were some great people and two shitty neighbours, and for that, this escape from the 'normality' would be shut down. But for me and the others that swarm within it's depths, never forgotten.
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