Intersubjective World And Subjective Reality

Christmas Markets in Europe, a brightly lighted carousel,

vaulted domes enclosing a fun fair in a Parisian cathedral

dedicated to delight & a border between India & Pakistan

 

Soldiers express hostility by only marching aggressively,

cheered by the crowds, joyously hilarious, thus diffusing

confrontational feelings without causing war - this world

 

Is filled with beautiful things - & for a few moments it lights

a spark in your mind, then your thoughts return to yourself,

domestic routines and loved ones - & if you can’t succeed

 

In penetrating the mystery of relationships, & if you can’t

experience and show love, if people are simply subjects

placed on earth to serve you - or beautiful objects to be

 

Admired from afar as their lovability is determined by their

ability to admire your superiority - while you remain blind

to their needs - then you are living in your head and you

 

Will be happy in your dreams & imagination only because

in the intersubjective world your heart is locked & closed-

off to your loved ones sharing subjective reality with you

Lurching Is Changing Into Looming

Though I’m a Golem with a Chem in my head instructing

me to do my duty - I’ve been changed into a Zombie by

eating a Brownie triggering allergy - so now I’m a brain-

dead idiot with muscles so weak, I can only ride my bike

at lowest gear and paddle in the pool & struggle to kick

a ball for my dog to catch - but it doesn’t matter -

 

That Brownie was exquisite, not a common garden variety,

came from an exotic bakery and brought to me lovingly by

a darling daughter who doesn’t eat sweets herself: lurching

like a Zombie is a price I’m willing to pay for the lovely taste,

- though I must say that my eyes not being able to focus is

quite a drawback - & my fervent desire to eat raw meat

 

To restore balance to my system is quite frustrating; maybe

next time when my Beloved counsels me - Don’t eat that, it

will make you ill - I shall listen because lurching is changing

into looming & being blind to boot, is irritating - I can’t enjoy

the beautiful world being as blind as a bat & I can’t carry out

the instructions written on the Chem in my head….

 

[Golem: Clay person with sacred words written on paper in

its head - instructing the Golem to work hard, à la Terry

Pratchett, Zombie: person without mind lurching about]  

For My Best Friend

I’ve a comrade for all eternity with Barbara

Liebenberg as my confederate, she offers

me unconditional acceptance - she is the

most loyal person I have ever met: when

she saw my little poems many years ago

 

She immediately offered to type them for

me - still has them in her files; & she has

never forgotten my attempts to explain my

feelings in poetic form: today she says she

feels inspired by my little poems, and she

 

Still supports my writing attempts - though

she has not specialised in reading poetry,

for me she looks at poetic lines and takes

care to let me know - no other friend has

ever taken such a positive interest in my

 

Dream of trying to write a poem which

expresses how I feel…

 

[I met Barbara in 1988]

Have Adventures Galore

After reading my children’s book I realise that I feel

like a child, wild and inspired with a head full of air,

older people usually read grown-up books filled with

cynical & dark grown-up ideas & experiences, while

my children’s books make me feel the world is new

 

And so am I, I don’t feel my age at all, I want to play

and romp and daydream and laugh and tell jokes -

then when my peer group starts talking about the sad

world with serious demeanour and responsible faces,

I feel fidgetty & bored & I conjure up a young heroine

 

To be a substitute me and have adventures galore, I

used to feel guilty about this, but since I don’t have to

do serious translations with boring research anymore,

I’m free to daydream as much as I want & not feeling

old is the best feeling there is… 

Rid The World Of Punishment

I’m a ‘Johnny Come Late’ to this ethical debate: does

the means justify the end when a criminal commits

fraud in a friendly, accommodating & helpful way;

does his kindness towards his victims justify his

 

Breaking the law, does the contribution of a murderer

to another murder victim’s family, justify his killing the

original murderer? TV series like Dexter and Blacklist

and movies like ‘Catch Me If You Can’ imply that the

 

Kind means employed in breaking the law and taking

revenge on murderers who evade the law justifies the

end result: Justice & Revenge for their victims; & this

reminds of Terry Pratchett’s ‘Going Postal’ in which

 

Moist von Lipwig is a scallywag, a likeable fraudster

who always acts respectfully towards his victims and

uses people’s avarice against themselves, which does

seem to be these covetous’ people just reward - and

 

We all cheer Dexter, serial killer of proven murderers,

and ‘The Good Samaritan’ in the Blacklist series who

replicates the injuries his victims caused their loved

ones, to make them feel the same pain - the

 

Principle of “an eye for an eye” makes so much sense

when looking at South Africa where the criminals are

protected, now we are a failed state where the railway

service has been dismantled by criminals - and

 

ESKOM, state provider of electricity, is destroyed by

nepotism & sabotage - since idiots decided to rid the

world of punishment, the criminals in government &

civil society destroyed the state almost completely -

 

As private individuals & private security companies

keep the system running for privileged individuals,

wrong-doing is mostly protected in our country &   

government is led by the incompetent so we

 

Can’t compete with other 3rd world countries which

still maintain law and order by punishing criminals

trying to destroy the state, this destructive creed

seems to be orchestrated so that Africa

 

Can still be raped and plundered…

.......................................................................................

TV series: “Dexter” and “Blacklist”

Movies “Catch Me If You Can” Steven Spielberg

Books “Going Postal” Terry Pratchett 

Starting To Master The Art

Relaxation, letting go, being less self-aware & less

self-condemning, stop trying too hard, and learning

to follow natural impulses, to meditate: washing the

dishes while listening and swaying to music, reading

 

Stories using words like ‘beguiling, gambolling and

gargantuan’,  watching dancing on TV - adoring the

Quickstep, Chachacha, Charleston and Salsa, and

laughing at funny analogies like “giraffe wearing a

 

Thong” and “swishing downstairs doing the rolling,

mincing walk fashion models affect” & delighting in  

beautiful things, the fluorescent grass when the sun

shines its silver light on it after the rain has gone -

 

Listening to a beautiful song sung by a full-bodied

voice under perfect control, every note formed and

finished with exquisite precision; watching programs

revealing exotic life deep in the ocean’s abyss - the

 

Mantis shrimp, fishes with a transparent head so its

eyes stare right up to the surface above - things so

enchanting, beguiling and beautiful; I have trouble

turning my eyes back to the routines of normal life

 

Learning not to force my discoveries on others who

define beauty and happiness in other ways - being

content to enjoy the experiences by myself - which

means learning to respect the opinions of others -

 

That is my job, that is how relationships with other

people work and I’m starting to master the art…

Miss Him For A Long, Long Time

Now we have a new series to scare the daylights

out of us, ‘BLACKLIST’, a new scriptwriter & a new

producer who believes in being savage all the time,

the warmth and soft comfort of ‘White Collar’ is gone

 

Now Neale Caffrey’s charming face and his group of

delightful friends are lost to me and lacklustre faces

grace the TV screen, at least the action’s interesting

and the main character only kills confirmed murderers 

 

And just to save the life of the sorrowful heroine - I

would have felt tragic too if I were her, given that her

husband is an undercover spy or criminal - she has

nothing to smile about; I miss the shining eyes and

 

Mischievous smile of Neale Caffrey’s trademark style

in the ‘White Collar’ series - he really was a ray of sun-

shine and I’m going to miss him for a long, long time 

Meditate And Regain My Sang-Froid

When the death of my favourite character Neale Caffrey

was staged at the end of the sixth season of the ‘White

Collar’ series the shock was so big I couldn’t recuperate,

the way Mozzy reacted when he was confronted with

 

Neale’s body, the way Neale’s FBI Boss Peter Burke saw

Neale in reflections and glimpses in his mind’s eye - Neale

sitting in his office chair, broke my heart completely; when

it was revealed that Neale wasn’t dead I was so far gone

 

In my misery, the good news failed to revive my joie de vivre,

Neale can never return to his old friends and for all practical

purposes Neale might just as well be in heaven & Peter will

never see his friend again, Mozzy must remain alone

 

Doing cons on his own - the image of Neale wallking down a

Parisian street cannot mend my feelings, I’m still feeling sad

deep inside, now getting ready to wash the dishes the only

way to meditate and regain my sang-froid…

….………………………………………………………….....

The dishes are done and I’ve reached a resigned state, the

characters can wait, there is room to continue the story as

soon as the producers see worth in it, meantime all is well

in fantasy land and everyone is safe and I have no reason

 

To be unhappy, now it’s time to look at my own little world

where everyone is happy and safe also and where friends

come and go without getting themselves killed, where the

seasons are in place and no producer can decide to wipe

 

Those I love from the earth’s face, in this reality all is good-

ness and grace and after drinking sweet tea I feel ready to

accept my blessings & rejoice in everything I come across

Only A Melody In Music

I love so many ideas, but the material realisation

of these ideas do not hold any appeal, as ideals

these ideas are wonderful, but the manifestation

of these gives me the creeps, so it makes sense

 

That Lord Vetinari would love studying music in

written form while finding the actual performance

of these compositions offensive, in his books Sir

Terry Pratchett describes this concept clearly -

 

I wonder whether he also knew of a solution to the

problem, whether a ballet could be so ethereal, it’d

present a magical fairy realm without physical reality

intruding, maybe only a melody in music can meet

 

The requirement of being a pure idea, I would love

to be a specific melody, bright and nostalgic at the

same time - changing in texture & meaning when

played on different instruments in different styles

 

Only the sequence of notes remaining unchanged

Eyes Shining In Expectation

I can’t sleep - again - having a spring roll,

samosa and chips for dinner after feasting

on quiche and ice-cream during the day - a

sure-fire way to ensure that Morpheus won’t

come for me, can’t close my eyes, can’t lie

down because my back has changed into

 

concrete and my head’s filled with swirling

mist, due to breaking dietary rules, eating

the wrong food is just like self-flagellation -  

though insisting on preparing bland dishes

when all around me take-away food events

are proliferating - is boring and dull, dealing

 

with a burning headache afterwards - even

seems more interesting than leading a neutral

life without culinary delights, just to be able to

sleep which holds the possibility of nightmares

also: if only the Muse would visit me when I’m

sleepless like this - but tonight the pain in my

 

head is the only kind of excitement I’ll get,

it would have been grand to announce that

I would learn through pain not to do it again,

but I’d only be fooling myself, the moment a

new dish was proposed by the mob - I’d be

there, eyes shining in expectation to discover

 

what new taste sensation awaits; breaking

free from enslavement to the magic of food

makes non-physical life seem so attractive,

no more computer-mind required to do the

thinking, just pure awareness while sinking

into bliss - at least, I hope it will be so, that

 

I will have confessed my sins before

departing this earth…

Ian's Intervention

How I managed to get conned into singing on Anne-Marie’s

wedding I’ll never know, by that time a few abortive attempts

should have been enough to warn me I couldn’t do it, but no,

I went ahead & practised, only my brother Ian’s intervention

 

Prevented the song from destroying the wedding - or me - I

doubt whether I could have contributed to the outcome of the

long years of wedded bliss ending up in divorce - but on that

day I got up to sing and found my breath gone, as if the devil

 

Himself had punched it out of me - thank heaven Ian saw and

jumped up in one briiliant move - to sing the song so I could

follow him - and I cannot thank him enough, the question is

why did I consent to singing for Anne-Marie after a disaster

 

At another wedding when mother played a song and I could

not sing along - but Ian saved the day, thank you so much!

Impressive Sunglasses

With my beloved depressed it is best I stop giving advice,

I should only ever give myself my advice - though I seldom

follow it; at least he does not get angry with me as he does

when I offer solutions to problems he loves - if he has pain

 

In his eyes after watching TV, beware, when I recommend

that he move away from the blinds and the light of the sun,

he gets angry reminding me of ‘Men are from Mars, Women

are from Venus’: John Gray suggests NO offering solutions

 

Just listening when anyone complains; but that’s difficult, we

both love offering solutions - and he gets angry when I don’t

follow his recommendations - while he immediately tells me

‘You’re a fool’ when I tell him what to do, he only wants me

 

To commiserate - admiringly - while he chants his laments

from behind his impressive sunglasses worn in the house…

 

[Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus  - 1992 book

written by American author & counselor John Gray]

The Dr Savage And Killjoy Alternative

This chronic headache feels like a sinus infection, but I can’t

go back to the medicos who nearly killed me by prescribing

Pregabalin indefinitely, at least I can show them the courtesy

of staying dead now that they have gotten rid of me, it would

be very nasty to disillusion them after they gloried in this

 

Irritating patient’s demise; by now I should have been deaf, blind

and using two walking sticks, hands turned into claws and losing

use of knees and feet, also loss of hair and teeth, and imminent

dementia of course - how can I destroy their happy illusion by

jumping up now shouting Surprise! and waltzing in with only

 

A sinus infection to show for their medical attempts to reduce me

to a vegetable, ready to supply the medical establishment with an

endless stream of visits as I die incrementally - no, I’m better than

that, I can find another quack, my friend Barbara knows an infinite

number of medical terrorists just ready to jump in and serve

 

Prescribing anti-inflammatories to which I am allergic, antibiotics,

penicillin, Arcoxia, Coxflam & Norephedrine, all igniting a fire in

my head because of the allergy - you know what, I think I’ll stay

home, take two Disprins and go to bed, no need to repeat past

disasters, visiting medicos experimenting to see which toxins

 

Will knock out my pain without killing me immediately, I prefer

dying on my own, happy and laughing: it sounds ever so much

better than the Dr Savage and Killjoy alternative…

My Perspective Is Growing

I walked into a glorious day, high silver sun on a

luminous emerald sphere - after sleeping well I

woke in paradise, still feeling sleepy and wishing

for more energy, things over which I have control

 

and squandering it - while mother nature, totally

beyond my control, presents the most beautiful

face, sapphire sky and a green carpet of grass

and emerald canopy of trees forming the most

 

enchanted garden - I can’t complain even though

I diminish my own experience by not following the

right regime, which has eluded me since birth - at

least my world-view has changed, from the

 

imperfect perceptions of a 4-year-old when most

people form their world-view to regard life through

this imperfect perspective until they die - to the

spiritual insight that we assign meaning to

 

everything and there are no limits except those we

impose ourselves, I’m still engaged in ridding my

inner eye from limitations and my perspective is

growing bigger all the time…