Efforts of Habit

Today I lose my train of thought often. Undoubtedly because of marijuana consumption. Smoking marijuana has become a habit. More on that later. When it comes to writing I tend to ask myself, “What is the purpose?”. This question is difficult to answer, and it often causes writing to cease or not start at all. Come to think of it is the same, about, with music. I always ask myself, “why toil so hard for so little in music? It is worthless, it does nothing, what is the point of it? Why not be committed to something more beneficial.”. I often reason with myself that my contribution is not valuable because it is not tangible. Abstract thinking and annoying patterns can not help anyone. Or so I thought.

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Breaking News

As it has been quite some time. This post is more of a test than anything. I have changed web hosting providers and have some tweaking left to do with this theme. Generally this is how I would like things to go, tally ho.

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We are Being Sold the Easy Diet

It is easy to do nothing.  The quick prospect of getting what we think we want to quickly fix our current perceived problem can reward the brain to want more of the same action.  Want to lose weight? Buy a diet. Want to have more friends? Buy the latest fashion. Want to cook better? Buy and online course. It’s advertised as easy, isn’t it, and it will get you what you want.

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You cool man in Pontiac MI

Inside there are two attendants who are behind the counter which is completely closed off by double sided glass doors which look bulletproof. There is a woman shopping in the aisles, a man in a wheelchair buying lottery tickets, and the kid who asks the shop keepers for thirty eight cents who both shake their heads.

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Naked in the Rain – Part 2 – Snakes and Guitars

When dusk settles in at the Hostel in the Forest a bell is rang letting all forest residents know that dinner is about to be served.  At the sound of the bell I eagerly find my way back to the kitchen tent. I meet today’s cook, the job of cook changes every day, and on this day the cook is a resident and not a hostel worker.  She is wearing long colorful robes and a very practiced smile. Her white greying hair is pulled back behind her head and I feel invited by her large brown eyes. She has been working all day, she says, on this very important meal and has put all the love she could into all she could with great intention.  I thank her for her efforts and say I am excited to eat something so lovingly prepared after spending the last few nights eating road food.

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The Oxymoron Definition of More Mindfullness

I saw a headline on a magazine while waiting in line at a grocery store.  I think these magazines are very distracting.  So bright and colorful.  They are right in the place where people have a chance to talk to one another.  Not that anyone talks to one another.  Its very scary because we, or at least I, assume I will likely hear some tragic story if I talk to someone else.  Usually though, the reasons I do not talk to people, are all made up in my head.  Which is pretty interesting.  Since all the reasons I talk to myself, are also made up in my head.  I hope you get my joke, do you get it? 

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