Sacred and fun dreams
Hugs, kisses, sea waves
I’ve made my biggest New Year’s resolution to date. I want to build a legacy. Looking at definitiins for “legacy” from a simple Google search has brought about a general definition of “inheritance” almost exclusively based on money.
Legacy, according to democratist ideals, is something we leave behind of value and purpose. It is usually there to be studied and understood after we have left this life. It is something of substance, tangible or not, that will help uncover or better understand something. It, therefore, is an inheritance made up of something other than money.
Honesty and success come hand in hand. In contemporary society, this means stepping on people as little as possible in order to sell a relative down the river. In democratism, it means achieving success through honesty, truth, and respect. This is actually easier to do than the old capitalist model called “the American Dream”. The “Universal Dream” needs to be based on respect for all. This cannot be overstated. Respect builds trust. And vice versa. Honesty eventually brings about truth. And truth is the hallmark to, yes, respect. And on it goes.
If we change one person for the better, is it not more beneficial than leaving them a monetary inheritance? As well, is it not better to empower masses of people than to give money to a few?
I seek a social awakening. I seek a communal understanding that spans and evolves into universal understanding.
The woman in the top of the 2 photos has made it financially. She will leave a lehacy of money to her family. Then, all will die like she did. They will eternally die. No particles of any semblance of knowledge shall remain. Nothing worthy. Nothing distiguishable.
The other woman, seemingly an occult figure, seemimgly from another time, will forevsr bathe in the splendor of others’ pursuits in the past and the future. She will be a symbol of evolution. There will be everlasting life, everlasting strife, everlasting achievements. There is importance in her existence and lineage. Thus, a worthy legacy.
So how will I ever compare to the eternal trendsetters?
I have made lots of headway in 2017, a year that had doom written all over it. I have made inroads. The small amoebas that were moribund in me have awakened, grown, and found life again—life that had been dormant for over a decade. Life that had tried to get out of its comfortable existence. Comfort…overrated. The opposite is not discomfort, but rather a search for higher ground.
So friends, Canadians, and people from all over the Universe, please lend me your eyes and read this. I will forever try my best to move forward on the road to liberation, knowledge, empowerment, and freedom. I shall build my legacy through my everyday actions. I haave no business plan. I have a spiritual and ethical plan.
I will be a good person. I will follow my life path to greatness. I will build a legacy.
I must have been 9 years old. Maybe 10. It’s hard to keep these facts straight when you’re trying to forget them at the same time. It had been a pretty nice Christmas. There were mountains of snow. As far as I remember, it was balmy for that time. I was on the way to the schoolyard with my hockey stick. I can hear the other guys shooting the orange ball with their hockey stick against the wall. Jimmy hadn’t come there with the nets yet.
Steve told me to go to Jimmy’s and help him with the nets. A smile came on my face. Being an immigrant kid, and having been bullied to that day, it was an honour for me to be important. I left my stick with Steve and dashed towards Jimmy’s. Did I mention thatbhe was a distant cousin? Not that distant. Maybe 2nd or so once removed. Nonetheless, our parents knew they were cousins. His mother told me he was in the basement. She was in a hurry and sped off.
I went to the basement and there was Jimmy. He was with Rex, who looked even more ruthless than his kingly name. He was a gigantic and angry German shepherd. Jimmy smiled in that eerie way where I could only see the whites of his eyes. He was a creepy guy who had always treated me well. This time he made Rex come towards me and smell me. I was very scared. He told me not to move or Rex might bite my penis. Rex was drooling and smiling, but I was still shaking. Jimmy hit the dog and the dog started barking and coming on me. He threw me down and I hit my shoulder against the wall.
Jimmy’s brother came down from somewhere. He told Jimmy to stop. They both looked at me and laughed. They told me it was over. It was ok. I was even allowed to carry Jimmy’s net to the schoolyard. The day ended as if nothing had happened. I told my cousin about it. She was the only one I could trust. She took care of it somehow. She always seemed to have my back.
It took me a while to trust dogs again. But I love them now. I understand it was the humans that were the savages.
About 20 years later, I hit Jimmy a few times while 2 others held him. Till this day, I would do it again instead of forgiving him. Very unchristian maybe, but very gratifying.
After about a decade on hiatus, it’s time for my annual Christmas speech to the masses. Please, no partisan applause. No applause whatsoever. Just join the peanut gallery please.
My friends, there has been a change to Christmas since a year ago. There has been a victory over the rampant and crippling political correctness that had endangered our holiday in previous years. For the first time in a long time, we are able to refer to Christmas as Christmas. The young lady at the Macy’s counter says Merry Christmas now, not Happy Holidays. The Korean woman at teh corner store where I buy my lottery, my Muslim hairdresser, my Jewish tax accountant, ……. They all wished me a Merry Christmas. And that’s fucking great. To be noted is that I have wished them a Hapy Hanukkah, Eid Mubarek, etc. as well. It’s a question f common courtesy. A question of democratist ideology.
The peanut gallery may now applaud.
Lock her up. Lock her up. Lock her up.
Now now. No need for that. She’s already in a prison of her own mind. Are you guys at the wrong rally?
Friends, along with the good news comes the bad. We have not learned the spirit of giving. Ironically, this is due to a lack of understanding of empathy and human rights. The modern interpretation of Christmas has deluded and disillusioned. First, we decide to feed the poor because it’s Christmas. Does this mean we need to ignore them the other 364 days?
In the grandstands up there is a hero of mine. He was at a TD baank ATM and saw a homeless person sleeping in there to stay away from the cold when an American tourist in a Brooklyn Tuscaloosa accent started kicking the man. His drunk friends applauded his actions. Our hero took matters into his own hands and rammed the violent perpetrator’s head through the glass of the ATM. He called our police officers and justice was served.
Applause for the hero
In the end, friends, we need to feel the spiritual bond with our impoverished and homeless brethren. We need to see them as equals. They have endured so much. We need to make them examples of heroism instead of trying to shame them.
The problem of ultra consumerism is as prevalent as ever. Not even neo-liberal-created impoverishment has curtailed sales. People are spending. Getting into debt. Robbing their neighbours to get their kids useless presents. They are continuing the chain of ignorance and soullesness. Please please please, don’t let the Clinton acolytes get their way. Don’t become blinded like they are.
I’ll get to the most important point now. We need to once again not only understand, but also feel, the spirit of Christmas. It is one of the many spiritual steps to wholeness. Let’s take a deep breath, preferably outside, not while on a smoking break, and let the spirit fill us. Let’s keep it in and breath out the old, the anger, the fear. Let’s hug ourselves. Love ourselves. Let’s spread this to our neighbours. This is Christmas. No one ever spoke of gifts. No one ever spoke of Santa Claus.
Folks, it’s time to spread the word. Time to embolden. It’s time to empower. It’s time to spread the word of the truth. Time to educate. It’s fucking time to wake people up.
Wake them up! Wake them up! Wake them up!
The above was meant as a piece of entertainment. There were no political, religious, or any other sort of influences and intentions that were brought up for any reason other than to create satiric and entertaijing prose.
No offense to the peanut gallery.
It’s time to address the masses
Don’t be jittery
Truth is around the corner
Bleed till you spill
Spill out the darkness
Darkness is the joy of chaotic Gods
Gods of Olympus, and such
Stick around for joy
For you have risen
Bewildered fool no more
Now there’s a reason to celebrate
Sleep till you die
Die like an unreformable peasant
Peasants are thise weak of will and soul
Souls search till they combine
The rain snapped a branch
The umbrella turned over and scratched your cheek
2 pm was like 2am
And all you wanted to do was scream
But you had no voice left
You heard nothing
You no longer touched the ground
That body was no longer yours
People surrounded the former you
The archetypal practical loving pathetic ignorant you
Because youloved picket fences
You loved purebreeds
Now in bed
Freezing ice pellets hit the window
You laugh at your former self
Shake your head
Your real other half wrapped around you
Those self-satisfied word merchants selling anything from obtuse news to compartmentalized propaganda are usually in abuse of the written word. They are aloof, unable of creative thought beyond manipulation.
As one in the “words as power” category, I have tried to be a storyteller. I have represented yarns with beginnings and ends, and a lot of life challenges and hurdles in between. Sometimes the hero overcomes. Sometimes he becomes an anti-hero. Irrespective of the outcome, a story has been told, hopefully a lesson has been learned, and there is a tinge in some of teh readers’ hearts. A tinge of a personal catharsis, perhaps.
During a poetry reading—way back when there were actual tangible poetry readings—a lot of people would approach me and thank me for hitting a nerve. Some of them cried, recalling a tough situation in their past. Other rejoiced a similar situation. People were touched in many different ways.
Enter the post-poetry-reading years; the years of a faded fan base. The years where, for a ball-of-yarn of reasons, reverie escaped me. I was not able to tell a story. I wa a character in others’ stories. I became an icon of practicality, minus the marriage and the kids. It was a miserable time in terms of self-innovation from a creative sense . It was a time of -isms. And I tried to fit in all the sexy ones. I wanted to be in. I wanted to be it. I wanted to be the man. Politics. Human corporate management. Ignorance to poverty— be it of the soul, the bank account, the mind, the spirit. And this goes one of two ways—you either become oblivious to the whole thing and embrace your tyrranical status, or you cease being ignorant to reality. The latter involves numerous choices that can be acted upon. For the purposes of space, I shall concentrate upon the consequences of my personal introspection.
STEP 1: GETTING CLEAN
Cleanliness is next to godliness; not as your mother must have told you, but rather as a cleansing of mind, body, and soul. In my case, it required gaining back my natural (real, pure, etc…) cognition. This is the only way to become pure, whole, and fulfilled for me.
Physically, I took up a somewhat trunkated version of the straight edge lifestyle. For me, it was to no longer drink,smoke, and eat very unhealthy food. It also included daily meditation and above all, yes, reverie. Ah , reverie. The pure release of my creative soul. That fine line between sevaral worlds of existence. The symbiosis of some and destruction of others. The road to creativity opens up again.
STEP 2: DEMOCRATISM
I then invented my own -ism— democratism. And I am still a democratist to this day. A democratist is someone who supports the following 5 major tenets:
1. Freedom of expression
2. Innocent till proven guilty (no exceptions)
5. Free and immediate essential services for all (health care, judicial, etc.)
There are niceties to the above I won’t get into here. Suffice it to say, this is what true democracy should be like. Unlike libertarianism, it doesn’t favour private enterprise. Unlike anarchism, it is not a fringe or escapist way of living. Above all, democratism is something involving the self above all. It is a sober and enlightened path to oneness (discussed below).
STEP 3: SEEKING ONENESS
Oneness has the end goal of two people uniting to be at one with the universe. Itbonvolves spiritual awakening and soul discovery. The ones involved usually need to be twin flames (or at least soul mates). I will get into this more at a later date, but the bonding of spiritband soul allows two individuals to attain spiritual awakening through mutual understanding beyond the scope of the defined. It is an understanding of the other through a deep emotional bond.
STEP 4: REDIFINING WHAT IS
The reason for our lack of understanding of what is beyond the tangible is mostly due to social constructs. These constructs are in place to keep all of us at bay. It is within each individual to define their reality. This is part of the first 2 steps above. It is necessaary to isolate ourselves from the fray in order to gain clarity and a definite path, be it spiritual or otherwise.
STEP 5: HARMONY
Harmony includes, first and foremeost, the attainment of oneness. It is the moment you have met your initially-defined goal. Harmony is different things to different people, and it doesn’t disqualify you from existing and loving others with slightly different end goals or different means of attainment them. It is about having done them in a harmoniousand virtuous way.
How many of us have even managed to achieve Step 1?
As a democratist, I am in goid position to write and create from my heart and soul.
Thanks to all that have been reading me for the last 18 months.
(C) Ted Kouretas 2017
As I opine over my fate
I realise it has begun and ended
It is a whirlwind
A continuous conviction
An irretractable state of being
Hospitals turn to mausoleums
Mausoleums into sordid sorted details
Then comes purgatory
The many loves you’ve known won’t reappear
Yet the one you’ve felt will
As a matter of death
That dainty crack on the sidewalk
It’s a matter of change
Of everlasting conviction
The both of you
And the universe
(C) Ted Kouretas 2017
You witnessed the ugliest dusk
Tear on your left cheek
Your thoughts quivering
Lament in your soul
Your beautiful face disappearing in the darkness
You had felt love
The nights grow colder
The days shorter
The wind whistles close to your heart
Sedation overtakes your thoughts
Lying on his grave
At least you knew love