On Tuesday 15th October 2024..
..I caught up with my small group of board-gaming friends after work. I was the first of our group to arrive at Hadrian's home because this Tuesday was also my first day working in a new office suite, located close by to our board games night host that evening.
Hadrian greeted me in his regular mumble style so of course I misheard his questions to me. Yes, I rolled myself a cigarette. And of course I let him roll his own.
He took my newly purchased +$70 AUD 25 gram pouch of tobacco and whiffed it deeply. Looks up from the open pouch and asked me, "If flavoured tobacco was making a comeback?" Strange question... did I mishear? I mumbled a response along those lines to Hadrian. We both stood up and went outside to smoke.
Hadrian's mother had a stroke last Sunday morning and after expressing concern, he stuttered to share details. At this point I noticed Hadrian was far more haggard than usual, and stressed too. I listened calmly as he started sharing the details with me over a rolled cigarette.
She called Hadrian earlier that morning, quite early in fact, and asked that he pop over soon with his florist girlfriend for a visit. So they did and shortly after arriving Hadrian's mum lost her central field of vision and could no longer see him. Besides the loss of vision, mum appeared unaffected. She was her usual effervescent sprightly self while Hadrian and his girlfriend remained calm, kept mum calm and sought advice from a wholistic health line service.
They informed what symptoms mum was experiencing to the person on the other end of the line; that person informed them mum had to be taken to hospital. Symptoms described were similar enough to a stroke's. Hadrian detailed his upset and confusion over mum's confusion when she abruptly forgot how to count, or what any numbers were (she couldn't recall the phone number for ambulances in Australia: 000).
I asked Hadrian about his mother's age: 80 years old. I paused and thought about my own mother's age: nearing 75. I looked upwards at the treetops in his backyard, looking up over them and then over his boundary fences of high brick and concrete slab composite walls. Hadrian followed my gaze, exhaling some dirt smoke into the air above us. "Sometimes I wonder what would life be like once she's gone and I can't picture it," he shared with me, in a changed tone of voice.
Softer. Clear, no stuttering or mumbling which signifies he did in fact picture life once mum was no longer there. He pictured it and probably realised he would be a remainder...
I waxed philosophically, exercising a restrained choice of what words to speak and which ideas I'd intend to convey. This is something I thought about too. And it's also something not easy for me to picture.
"When I think of my life here - now - all I really do with any regularity is visit my mum. That's about the sum of what my life here entails. It could be that I'm staying here to stay close to my family, but when I try to picture life here with no mum.." I trailed off, slightly dazed from the effort of choosing words carefully. "If I picture life without mum, life is not a picture of being here in this place anymore. It is a picture of me by myself - somewhat more alone than before - ruminating upon the question of 'Ok, Now what?'
"Is this when I become an adult? An adult who was a child, who is now facing a reality of not being a child any longer?" I asked myself the question, there and then. "Is it when one asks themselves 'OK, now what?' the moment when one becomes an actual adult?" Actual adult? What on Earth was an actual adull...
..had to quickly shore up crumbling visages of us men unmade. Because I sensed my words - spoken with lilt and languor - were on the cusp of acutely affecting Hadrian's composure. He imitated a muscle spasm, then recoiled. And just as I continued on with a little more love inflection, he shook himself abruptly and continued listening to me.
"Besides when they're gone, they are not gone for good." A query flicked on my mind's internal voice: should I make clear I'm talking about our mums? No. Both Hadrian's and my father were deceased, so it was pretty obvious 'they' = our mums.
"Our mothers live on in us. In the way they raised us up and taught us how to be good; how to be good to others, how to be good in life. We are the walking testament to the quality of their upbringing. Lessons of love, levity, tenderness and pride."
"We may lose them. Yet we continue on, but not without them in our lives."
A Paradox Less Cruel With Age
"And today we remain alive so tomorrow we may outlive them."
Power-walking briskly to the post office during my lunch break today when I began noticing my heavy breathing. It was healthy mouth breathing due to exertion, mind you. And it felt good to inhale lungfuls of fresh breezy gusts whipped up off the coast. Feeling good from breathing like this inspired a moment of repose when I saw a person wearing a facemask.
I pondered the sight. On the face of it, it was insane. Regardless of academic studies, scientific evidence, and surreptitious claims of protecting public health and safety, what I witnessed was simple to understand for once. The people who persistently wear facemasks no matter what the situation, are simply broken. Pondered on an epigram or suitable aphorism to sum up my observations. Simply broken by medical mafioso's mass communication and media manipulations triggering a psychological regression in maturity.
Ushering large swathes of the public into a larger, compliant enormity.
The Population is now primed for easy nudging towards an infantile state of cognitive capacity.
The face mask is like a comfort toy for the abovementioned. A plastic pacifier for soothing baby into suckling and contentment.
Imitating the breast and nipple of mama, the simply broken face masked infants will not be reasoned with.
They must be forcefully weaned off their pacifier / dummy, like practically all of us were in the early formative years of our lives.
There will be tears, but the simply broken can't simply suck on dummies for the rest of their lives!
So the question is: how do you wean an adult off the psychological/emotional/instinctual equivalent of a baby's pacifier? What would your parents have done way back when you were a child to wean you? What did they do to finally stop you sucking on your dummy?
This is a crucial question to answer. Far more important a question than who are They WHO Must Be Held Accountable for the #plandemic, #mRNA, #vaccines etc etc. If you can't stop your fellow neighbors from simply breaking down passively around you, then how could one find a path that leads to Them WHO Must Be Held Accountable?
Maybe we need to be weaned off our versions of suckling comfort support toys as well? Maybe we could use a little less social media everyday? Or here's a brainwave, a completely radical proposition: maybe we could desist impaling our nether regions upon the incessant online provocations? Is it possible to avoid deep-throating and regurgitating every fear-spike of propaganda encountered online?
Repudiation and an Apology
To say I am bitter lately is not quite correct. Better to outright state I'm repudiating those whom I once agreed with and fought alongside. Assuredly, it's made me grumpier than I was a few months ago due to my major source of dopamine fixes becoming spoiled. To be glib, I'm like a grumpy baby who can't get any more sweet milkiness from mummy Musk. I fussed and bawwed and boohooed for a few weeks while regulation of my dopamine levels stabilized, yet I'm left wondering how much better off I am after repudiation of online dissident / cognitive & information warfare actions.
I do feel like my mind has more breathing space now. More of the thoughts contained inside there are mine. The neural pathways formed between thoughts are originating from me, and are unique to me. Perhaps it is better and more logical for me to operate like this. Perhaps I am hopeful of unlocking inherent potential within my imagination, and hoping creativity leads to action which could inspire others, which can lead others back to one another.
Either way, in the first instance I will probably annoy you (if I haven't done so already). Forgive me, but I'm pushing what the perceived status quo is because the participants who kept it going all this time have become intolerable after four years of stalemate. Before my abilities to inspire are sufficiently whetted and honed to a point, I'm assisting you to accept your own guilt, then try to make you realize how freeing it is to admit that same guilt.
Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa!
So you are strong enough to ultimately forgive yourself!
Śnimy / We Dream (English)
You're dreaming!
Oh, yes!
We Dream incessantly.
Always.
YOU EXPECT TOO MUCH!
Oh, yes!
We learned to wait
and we wait for everything.
YOU WANT TOO MUCH!
Oh, yes!
We want too much!
We want to achieve more from this,
everything!
YOU'RE IN A HURRY!
Oh, yes!
You have to go and get,
and start over.
You're dreaming!
Yes!
It's necessary!
This dream can come true tomorrow.
YOU EXPECT TOO MUCH!
Oh, yes!
And we are not ashamed to be
"Slaves Of Hope."
YOU WANT TOO MUCH!
Oh, yes!
This is our holy law, more,
it's our duty!
No!
Oh, yes!
Determination and silence...
And yet,
still, it's better this way.
The nation is better,
who is still storming,
although sometimes violent,
although sometimes too careful,
although sometimes weak,
vile, disgusting,
that and better,
with all its human nature,
strange and simple,
it's better than being a herd.
someone else's cold calculations.
And therefore let no one be ashamed to say,
let no one be ashamed to scream:
"Let's dream!"
"Yes!"
"Let's dream continuously!"
"Let us dream bravely!"
"Let us dream beyond the end of our dreams, beyond imagination!"
We always dream like this
and we expect everything.
We learned the art of waiting,
the art of waiting in helplessness.
We can wait and wait for everything,
for everything and we want to achieve everything!
We want the impossible,
to achieve what is possible!
We want what's possible,
to achieve the impossible!
It's better, really, it's better,
although sometimes violent,
although sometimes weak,
vile, disgusting,
that and better,
the entire human race,
strange and simple nature,
better than being a herd.
someone else's cold calculations.
And therefore, if ever
they dare to tell us:
"You dream!"
"Of course you do."
"We Dream continuously."
"Always!"
If they tell us:
"You expect too much!"
"Oh, yes!"
"We have learned to wait
and we wait for everything."
"FOR EVERYTHING!"
If they tell us:
"You want too much!"
"Of course you do."
"We want too much!
We want more!"
"We want to achieve everything."
If they tell us:
"You are in a hurry!"
"Oh, yes!"
"Yes! We have to go and get there.
And start again."
Yes!
We're in a hurry...
