the warrior

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

In Search of the Dream
	In Search of the Dream
	Those who dare having a project in life, foregoing everything to live their Personal Legend, will end up achieving anything. The important thing is to keep the fire in your heart and be strong to overcome hard moments. Remember, the desires that are in our souls do not come from the nothingness; someone put them there. And this someone, who is pure love and only wishes our happiness, only did it because he gave us, together with these desires, the tools to make them happen. The risky climb In the middle of a storm, a pilgrim reaches an inn and the owner asks where he is going. “I’m going to the mountains,” he answers. “Forget it,” says the innkeeper, “it’s a risky climb, and the weather is awful.” “But I’m going up,” answers the pilgrim, “if my heart gets there first, it will be easy to follow it with my body.” What’s the price? “Is the price of living a dream much higher than the price of living without daring to dream?” asked the disciple. The master took him to a clothes store. There, he asked him to try on a suit in exactly his size. The disciple obeyed, and was very amazed at the quality of the clothes. Then the master asked him to try on the same suit – but this time a size much bigger than his own. The disciple did as he was asked. “This one is no use. It’s too big.” “How much are these suits?” the master asked the shop attendant. “They both cost the same price. It’s just the size that is different.” When leaving the store, the master told his disciple, “Living your dream or giving it up also costs the same price, which is usually very high. But the first lets us share the miracle of life, and the second is of no use to us.” The Search of the Path “I am willing to leave everything. Please, take me as a disciple.” “How does a man choose his Path?” “Through sacrifice. A path that demands sacrifice is a true path.” The abbot bumped into a bookcase. A very rare vase fell down and the young man threw himself to the floor to pick it up. He fell the wrong way and broke his arm. But he was able to save the vase. “Which sacrifice is greater, to see the vase breaking down our breaking an arm to save it?” “I don’t know.” “So then, do not try to guide your choice through sacrifice. The path is chosen by our capacity of compromising with each step we make while we walk.” The Drunkard Disciple A Zen master had hundreds of disciples. They all prayed at the right time, except one, who was always drunk. The master was growing old. Some of the more virtuous pupils began to wonder who would be the new leader of the group, the one who would receive the important secrets of the Tradition. On the eve of his death, however, the master called the drunkard disciple and revealed the hidden secrets to him. A veritable revolt broke out among the others. “How shameful!” they cried in the streets, “We have sacrificed ourselves for the wrong master, one who can’t see our qualities.” Hearing the commotion outside, the dying master remarked, “I had to pass on these secrets to a man that I knew well. All my pupils are very virtuous, and showed only their qualities. That is dangerous, for virtue often serves to hide vanity, pride and intolerance. That is why I chose the only disciple whom I know really well, since I can see his defect: drunkenness.”

fake plastic trees

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

 her green plastic watering can
For her fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth.
That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plans
To get rid of itself.
It wears her out, it wears her out
It wears her out, it wears her out.

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns.
He used to do surgery
For girls in the eighties
But gravity always wins.
And it wears him out, it wears him out.
It wears him out, it wears . . .

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love.
But I can't help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run.
And it wears me out, it wears me out.
It wears me out, it wears me out.

And if I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted
All the time, all the time.
 

may..

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

mirror (sylvia plath)

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

love

"Love dispels fear just as light dispels darkness. If even for a moment you have been in love with someone, fear disappears and thinking stops. With fear thinking continues. The more you are afraid, the more you have to think."

~ Osho

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

va por ti..

jueves 12 de octubre de 2006 Blog del detective amaestrado..

Verdad o consecuencia

Las tardes de mi preadolescencia no tendrían el mismo color si no fuera por ese juego. Nos poníamos en corro chicos y chicas, y la cosa consistía en que, cuando a tí te tocaba, podía ser verdad o consecuencia. Si te tocaba verdad, tenías que contestar sinceramente (la pregunta era invariable, ¿te gusta fulanito/a?) y si, por el contrario te correspondía consecuencia, pues a cumplir una penitencia (invariable también, "dale un beso a no sé quien"). Maldita sea la hora en que decidimos dejar de practicar este juego. Como me gustaría saber ciertas verdades a estas alturas. Y que gratificante sería que me mandaran determinadas consecuencias. Tanto que luchamos siempre por recuperar las tradiciones arcaicas, deberíamos propiciar una oenegé que se dedicara al rescate de éstas. Creo que contaríamos con bastantes adeptos. Espero que los que reivindiquen volver a jugar a médicos y enfermos no lo hagan demasiado realista, introduciendo las temidas listas de espera.

Hay algunas verdades personales. Me da miedo que, cuando alguien empieza un régimen alimenticio, sea el corazón el que pierda peso. Sería una faena que uno se quede fuera por una cuestión de dieta.

Y hay también consecuencias maravillosas, como lo es el descubrir esta maravilla de poema de Vanesa Pérez-Sauquillo.

éste es mi contestador automático.

Para herir, simplemente, marque 1.

Para contar mentiras que me crea, marque 2.

Para las confesiones trasnochadas, marque 4.

Para interpretaciones literarias

producto del alcohol, marque 6.

Para poemas, marque almohadilla.

Para cortar definitivamente la comunicación,

no marque nada, pero tampoco cuelgue,

titubee en el teléfono

(a ser posible durante varios meses)

hasta que note que voy abandonando el aparato

a intervalos de tiempo cada vez mas largos.

No desespere. Aguante.

Espere a que sea yo la que se rinda.

Le evitará cualquier remordimiento.

Gracias.

Conducía hoy camino de la playa de Amadores, no me digan que no es un nombre precioso para tumbarse al sol. Es muy difícil no sentirse bien en un sitio así. Intentaré volver lo antes posible, pensé al salir. Afortunadamente, lo hice. Mi cabeza aún sigue en las inmediaciones.

posted by El detective amaestrado at 9:23 PM

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

LA ULTIMA VEZ

La arena cae sin cesar, en el reloj del cuerpo, y si dejas de respirar, puedes parar el tiempo.

Mi vida fue, tan corta que no me dió, la oportunidad, de hacerme bueno.

La vida puede terminar, puede hacerlo en cualquier momento, quedan tantas cosas por hacer, me falta tanto tiempo.

Porque al final, tus fotos se perderán, de mi corazón, tu nombre se borrará, para pedir perdón, hubo una oportunidad, las palabras de amor, se las lleva el viento, se las llevará, se las llevará, se las llevará, el viento se las llevará.
(niños mutantes, el sol de invierno) 
 

LA PRIMERA VEZ

 Es curioso pero lo del transito lapiz -boli tambien lo he apuntado yo en mi blog,,, y lo de las llaves de la  casa... ya no es solo curioso lo de la casa de tus padsre.. sino cuando firmas los papeles de tu propia casa,,, ( me falto darle un beso en la calva al notario..) y que decir que la primera noche que duermes en ella teniendo que saltar con pertiga todas las cajas de la mudanza. que bien,,,
y otros momentos... "mi primera colonia chispas", el primer noviete a escondidas de la gente de tu pueblo y de tus padres..(sobre todo mi madre en el balcon,,, tipo maceta) la primera vez que te escapas de casa,,la primera vez que vas al instituto y te sientes mayor porque te tiran huevos..y te pintan la cara con b de borrego,,, y que decir mi primera moto,,, tunea pa ese momento y sus respectivas caidas y carreras que me echaba yo ((NO si chusca he sio).. y la primera vez que te pintas y pareces un payaso..y se te queda el rimmel a pegotes y el primer beso y el primer "revolcon".el primer dia de universidad.. que bueno sobre todo cuando es un sitio nuevo..el primer viaje en avion, y no saber esa noche donde coño vas a dormir.. sobre todo cuando te vas al extranjero...el dia que te sacas el carne... sin pillar abuelas--- y conduces sola por primera vez con el pie temblando en el embrague..el primer concierto en el que te cuelas.. con un grupo heavy..con 13 años..( heroes del silencio,, ) y el ultimo de la fila con ofelia... mi compañera de conciertos..la primera boda de un amigo tuyo,, y despedida de soltero ( 3 dias en almeria) salvaje...y que decir cuando te enteras que van a tener un niño...el primer dia de curro, el primer sueldo qu te fundes en camisetas de zara y musica---el primer festival de musica.. el primer concierto de u2..la primera vez que duermes en la playa..la primera vez que te rompen el cuore.. joder como duele..aunque eso es algo que nunca amaina..a pesar del tiempo.la primera vez que se te muere alguien..la primera acampada, la primera borrachera( dos coronitas y un chupito) que triste.dioo cuantos buenos ratos..y aqui seguimos en este viaje que no para.. . silvers aqui todavia en el paraiso

 Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

SIN EMBARGO.. NO SE ..

  A cuántos ríos,
ciudades,
autobuses,
fronteras,
barcos,
carreteras
de distancia te fuiste a vivir.

Y estás tan cerca, sin embargo

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

  Aryrso contesto al tiempo y a la distancia, a la alegria y a la pena que dejaba al otro lado de la puerta,

Las puertas son solo puertas cuando estan cerradas.. se repetia martilleandose la mente..el cadaver que llevaba a cuestas estaba ya desmembrando sus ultimas celulas...restos , restos,, esparcidos por su mundo vagante.. escombros y cenizas,,,

Aquella playa, aquel bosque.. ¿quien sera el valiente, quien el cobarde? ¿aceptara el guerrero el reto de la emboscada de las lianas y las caricias de las hojas del sauce?

Promete no hacerte daño, solo te acuna como se arrulla a los niños chicos y te dara agua para quitarte la sed... pero... pero... tu te empeñas en llorar derramandola, no por pena, sino porque si miras a la luz mientras lloras ves estrellas y rafagas... haz la prueba... te empeñas en encontrar respuestas que solo conoce el aire....

 Ahora solo escucho una niña que pasa por mi calle sin parar de tatarear esto,,, una y otra vez...esta noche no hay piedad... la casa sigue abierta...y yo he perdido las llaves, no quiero encontrarlas.. estan escondidas , haremos una hoguera si las encuentro.. y la cancion sigue martilleando mi mente..


(silvers febrero 2008)

Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

como no...

 ...."whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth." ...."And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."
Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

Life is not serious

 by Osho

Laughter is one of the things most repressed by society all over the world, in all the ages. Society wants you to be serious. Parents want their children to be serious, teachers want their students to be serious, the bosses want their servants to be serious, the commanders want their armies to be serious. Seriousness is required of everybody.

Laughter is dangerous and rebellious. When the teacher is teaching you and you start laughing, it will be taken as an insult. Your parents are saying something to you and you start laughing-it will be taken as an insult. Seriousness is thought to be honor, respect.

Naturally, laughter has been repressed so much that even though life all around is hilarious nobody is laughing. If your laughter is freed from its chains, from its bondage, you will be surprised-on each step there is something hilarious happening.

Life is not serious. Only graveyards are serious, death is serious. Life is love, life is laughter, life is dance, song. But we will have to give life a new orientation. The past has crippled life very badly, it has made you almost laughter blind, just like there are people who are colorblind. There are ten percent of people who are colorblind-it is a big percentage, but they are not aware that they are colorblind.

George Bernard Shaw was colorblind, and he came to know it when he was sixty years old. On his birthday somebody sent a present, a beautiful suit, a coat, but the person forgot to send a tie. So Bernard Shaw went with his secretary to find a matching tie. He liked the suit very much. He looked at ties and he chose one, and the secretary was surprised; she could not believe it-because the suit was yellow and the tie was green. She said, "What are you doing? This will look very strange."
He said, "Why will it look strange? It is the same color."
The manager, the salesman... they all gathered, and they tried in many ways to find out.... He could not distinguish between yellow and green; they both appeared the same to him. He was colorblind. But for sixty years he was not aware of it. And there are ten percent of people in the world who are colorblind. Some color they are missing, or maybe they are mixing it up with some other color.

The constant repression of laughter has made you laughter blind. Situations are happening everywhere, but you cannot see that there is any reason to laugh. If your laughter is freed from its bondage, the whole world will be full of laughter. It needs to be full of laughter; it will change almost everything in human life. You will not be as miserable as you are. In fact, you are not as miserable as you look-it is misery plus seriousness that makes you look so miserable. Just misery plus laughter, and you will not look so miserable!

[From Beyond Enlightenment , #27] OSHO


  
Mrs Fiddes says I am a SUPER STAR

He said..

He said; i will wait for you under that tree, the one with branches in "Y" shape linked to the trunk, in the "Y" shape spot of that forest.. she thought to herself he was talking about them as a metaphor of their relationship.... two branches linked to the trunk..or perphaps a trunk and two branches diverted from it..
he said, there is no way of getting lost, i will leave some crumbs in the way as hints.. as traces, like that fairy tale he was read when a child, when he was scared of the darkness of the night ...and i will display some candles, moons and lighthouses..they will lead you to me, by my side.There is no way of getting lost, he repeated, i will always find you, and i will recognize you at once, even though you chose the wrong path, since there is no concept such as " wrong way", all roads take you to me...to where i am, to where i was, to what i am..

silvers. february 2009

Jack Kerouac, On the Road,

They danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn..."
- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 1, Ch1.

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

we start...otra cara de la misma moneda..

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.