Leonard Cohen, First we Take Manhattan

I realize how much this blog has deteriorated since I began it in late '06 -- back when I had an aura. Ho hum, those were indeed the days. I knew, knew, knew coming here would be the end of me. The end of me. The end of me. How frustrating. I heard an inspirational story about Sylvestor Stallone by Tony Robbins -- probably on youtube if you search for it. The thing that hit home was when Sly told him that he was dirt broke when trying to act/write and knew that if he went and got a "job" that he would fall into a rhythm that would cause him to lose his hunger for what he knew he was meant to accomplish. That's exactly how I felt until my 8 hour hike back to Brampton from Milton a few days ago. It seems two weeks or so out in the forest cleared my mind enough to get a job and an apartment -- two things I've never had before. All the same, I'm so FUCKED UP that I can't get these entities out of me or clear my ajna chakra of its toxins. Really, that really, really fucks me up hard.