the World & Finias Groove

TO BE ARGUMENTATIVE, IS TO TEST THE STRENGTH IN THE BELIEF OF WHAT A PERSON IS TELLING YOU; TO FIND ITS LOOPHOLES, OR ITS TRUTHS.

What is it about good blues that sets my soul at ease? 


BUDDY GUY


THE BLACK KEYS


Oh... I could go on, I assure you. Good Blues, is like a refined wine; it's a process. This bitter'd road of the self resolved. 


Mmmm... and there we have it; the Blues.

Have you ever looked at a tree after it's leaves have all fallen to the ground; naked and exposed. This is us: plain and simple. Forever reaching up to the heavens, but forever coming up short; for heaven is only achievable in death. This doesn't state that there cannot be heaven on earth, for we are all a part of the first heaven. What it represents though is this: it represents our journeys throughout or lives, those roads or paths that we have taken. The trunk is the principle state of being, or foundation. We come back to it often throughout the course of our lives, only to head off in a new direction.

There are those who are to be considered as the roots, mired in darkness, with little to no understanding of the light for which they to seek. It is our job to make sure that even the roots come to find the light. Though it seems at times that the roots seek to extinguish the light from those around them, but they are just misunderstood. It is there lack of understanding of the light in those around them, the fear that they have becomes indifference, and thus, has them appearing so.

Walk as ONE, learn as ONE, become ONE.

See... we can learn from even the trees, and therefor, all that is around us.
Take time for those less fortunate... you maybe one of them sooner than never.

The dawning of a new day

The waking of bone and clay

Who am I

That once begun in the triple darkness of the womb

Held in Mother's and Father's hand

Taught these principles that NONE-THE-WISER became?

From this I become...

the MAN.

still BOY.

This instrument of flesh, with mind consumed.

From this I become.

~Finias Groove

Today, I stopped philosophizing about nothingness. I chopped down my own cherry tree, built a few bridges, and set a few fires. Tomorrow, is gonna be a great day for conversation.

just say no: to frozen puberty

adolescence is the strength behind a dream, but it lacks the understanding of what it takes to make that dream possible.

Yesterday and tomorrow began at the same time today; at the very moment you opened your eyes this morning. ~Marcus Thomas

Sometimes, the best things in life, are the thorns of a rose. ~toren michaels

You know... I've spent a lifetime thinking about all those things that went wrong in my life and over all of those things that I didn't have. In doing so, I ignored all those things that went right in my life and forgot to be thankful for what I already had.

Today I'd like to write about something that I have come to know all too well lately, to talk about ANDROPAUSE, or what is so objectionably referred to as, MALE MENOPAUSE. By objectionably, I mean, well, just tell your wife or girlfriend about it. You'll come to understand just how quick they are to denounce your mood swings, night sweats, fatigue, lethargy and your decrease in sexual arousal on a thing called MALE MENOPAUSE. You'll be laughed at uncontrollably, ridiculed. But make no mistake guys and gals, this is a real issue, one that I have come to understand all too well.

My nights have turned into days, my days listless and forgetful. I can cry do to the stupidest of things, like killing a bothersome fly and quickly finding myself repenting the whole day from this valued life I just took. I find myself up just as quick as down, and nothing can mend those explosive, but brief moments of sheer insanity that are usually brought on by... "I love you honey." Within a moments notice I have dug my trenches and I am at war with my significant-other over the question of how my day went.

Let's not get into the topic of the bedroom, but I learned today just how knowledgeable she herself has become on Viagra, Cialis, and the likes. I don't have to tell you what kind of conversation starter this is. It's always been a good joke at parties, or to razz your buddies, but when the subject becomes an issue of pseudo sexual arousal yourself, well you won't be finding it funny anymore. Now we can talk depression, like a neutered dog, laying around, getting fat, no longer enthralled over chasing his tail, or the ball.

"Oh my God... What have I become?"

I'd like to think of myself as still being a man, but I can't even lift the toilet seat anymore without the worry of breaking a nail, not to mention my levels of strength that have depleted. I've become a SUPERMAN who hides in the phone booth, afraid to take off his glasses and don his synonymous cape, afraid that he has lost his ability to fly, and therefor, hides in his house like a super hero gone hermit.

I'd like to think that there is help out there for us guys who are suffering from this more than degrading testosterone depletion. So, if you feel the slightest bit of the symptoms I just wrote about, here are some sites that you may find helpful.

men.webmd.com/guide/male-menopause

www.andrology.com/andropause.htm

You want to do something that will enlighten the world with wisdoms? Let's fill graveyards with EPITAPHS of what we learn then, otherwise, they are a useless space. EPITAPHS like FLOWERS BLOOM. At least then they won't have some creepy name like graveyard and we can forever change the name to the GARDEN of WISDOMS."

I ponder over the meaning of life and death often, it is the only question that seems of importance. We grow comfortable with life, for it is the only world to which we have some manner of certainty, for there is no assurance in death. It isn't selfishness that has us holding on to the only thing that we've ever come to know, but the fear of eternal darkness.

~Marcus Thomas

I've spent a long time, grasping at the shadows of these flowers in the fabric of time. That feeling of tomorrow, that's gone without so much as yesterdays notice. This infinite sea of dreams that dissipate into the ever present night. Where have they gone, these shared dreamers? The beauties that we all beheld together, from sunrise to sunset, from springs bloom, to the first snow fall of winter. These who were my life, these to whom we swore our allegiances, are becoming fast the faded memory.

Oh... these flowers in the fabric of time.

Where have all my flowers gone?

God did not create woman from man's head, that he should command her, nor from his feet, that she should be his slave, but rather from his side, that she should be near his heart." ~Jewish Proverb

I'm gonna be like Jim Jones at a Kraft Foods company picnic...

"DRINK UP BITCHES!" ~Finias Groove

This generated quite the controversy on MYSPACE, I originally posted it on 03-04-2008


A question was posed yesterday in a bulletin, a question that has presented itself in every social circle that I have found myself throughout the years. Every relationship has posed the question about the sexes. This question being:

Can women and men really be friends without 'sex' getting in the way?

In order to answer this question in it's entirety, you must first go to the source of this question for the true answer. Meaning, you have to break down those barriers that have been taught to you, in order to achieve a sense of truth. We have a natural ability to sense difference in everything around us. Men vs. Women; Young vs. Old; Black, White, Chinese; etc.
So from the start, it is natural for us to feel indifferent. We are put into social groups based upon our interests, or social statures. But from the start, comes this natural instinctive war of the sexes.

Why?

Why is there such a desire by both sexes to seek the thresholds, these underlined bounds of each others developments. A need to complicate the grand order of things.
This isn't new, it has survived eons. The gods in their divinity have taught us to place strengths and weaknesses upon each others sex. Men have that sense of superiority, and often find themselves in awe with a woman who challenges their intellect. Women usually find themselves cowering to those overbearing men. I have said for years that,

"There is nothing that separates a man from a woman, except the genitalia."

This is true in order to have feminine men, and masculine women. In order for homosexuality to even exist, this has to be true of itself. For every " male " trait, you can find that in a woman, and vice verse. It took awhile, but I finally found a partner who will go directly to sleep after she gets her orgasm. That has been played out time and time again as a " male " trait. Not so. I have found intellectually stimulating conversations with some of the most intelligent women on the planet to be at times, more engrossing than that of men. By far these conversations were more in depth than I could have ever hoped of them to be with my male counterparts. I know this wasn't because women talk more, and would therefor have to be better at conversing. I have known many a men who can put any woman to shame with how much they can talk, and talk, and talk.

The question before I rant on some tangent is:


Can women and men be friends without 'sex' getting in the way?

I would like to say, yes. But I feel that is greatly determined by how you approach your relationship with that other person. If you feel that you and this other person can be in a physical relationship [ i.e.] sexual, and you feel that you can handle the" friends with benefits " style of relationship, than you are by far better than me. Meaning: If you have evolved to some new state of enlightenment between you and the said other person and this can work for you guys, than you have reached a level that has never in a million years worked for anybody.

Come on!

Honesty doesn't hurt once in awhile.

Everyone has tried that friends with bennies sh*!, it doesn't work and we know it. Casual sex, doesn't work and we know it. Meeting someone at the bar, and never even getting on a first name basis works better than all of that sh*!. The reason being, we are after all, human. You can't get past that. Feelings will take precedence over everything that, at the start, you felt you could handle. But the end result appears as though obsession. At least that's what we have all come to deem it as in the end.

"They're obsessed with me!"

No...

They fell in love with you.

Two start out with the game in mind, until one wants to change the rules of engagement. The end result of this is, one gets walked on no matter how unintentional it may have been. Jealousies begin to sprout out of this once blossoming relationship. This once envied union by your peers, is now an, "I told you so!" That's okay. They were jealous of you by thinking that you may pull off the impossible, that maybe you and said other person could truly make this work. But the river of comfort created a gap that no one can traverse. We are human, we are beings of attachment, as much as we are beings who need total and complete acceptance. We need companionship more than we need sex, but sex does create bonds that cannot be broken.

Example of this:

You will always remember the names of all those you have had sex with, but you can't remember the names of everyone you've shook hands with.

If you can't remember all the people you've had sex with, than I don't need to tell you that there's a problem with that. I understand that for some, they have shaken less hands than they have had sexual partners. Now it's up to them to have the urgency to find out why that is, what makes them associate having a relationship with sex. What ever happened to dinner, and a good conversation? To me personally, sex is a 24 hr. experience. Everything in that 24 hr. period leading up to sex is important.
Yes, I know spontaneity, but everything before that spur of the moment was in place for me.

The fact is, this question posses an even bigger question of SELF. You could find so many different answers based on social behavior and whether or not that person knows how to be honest with themselves. I think if the person was honest to themselves, than their answer would more mimic mine. If you truly care about the other person you set out to be involved with, I mean really truly care, than I don't think that you would seek to cloud all your judgments that are yet to come after that, by sex.

Men, do you go up to your best guy friend and engage them in a sexual manner? Do you seek to bed them? I mean outside not having an attraction for the same sex, would you seek to bed your best friend of the same sex? First, ask yourself if you have any guy friends that you love. Be honest. I have a friend of mine that is of the same sex, and I have found that more than twice I have ended our conversation with, " I love you Man." I was sincere in telling him that I loved him, I do love him. He has been around through some of our worst times, and some of our best. He was a shoulder that, a few times I have cried on, and I the same for him.

Platonic.

Why then, is it so hard to have friends of the opposite sex for some of us? Don't you want the growth associated with watching that other person evolve, rather than having your hands in their development. Allowing, rather than controlling. Sex leads to control, face it! You have a relationship where sex is involved, naturally you will seek to make them into your idea of what they should be, rather than allowing, or stimulating their growth as an individual. Friends do that you know, they do what lovers lose the ability to do.

Change your perception of the norm. Step out of the damn box, there are already so many people comfortable with societies views of what is normal relations between a man and a woman. But that leads to more unwanted, or unplanned pregnancies. More broken homes than people in prison. Do what is REAL, not what you think is expected.
Chart your own undiscovered territories. And most of all, be honest. Be honest first with yourself, love yourself, but don't be infatuated with yourself. No holier-than-thou attitudes need apply. If you can do this, if you can question who you are and come to an answer, an honest perception of who you are. Than you'll realize that sex isn't a game. It's not a release.

My philosophy:

"Masturbation is a release. If all we needed was a release, then we have masturbation. But we are creatures of acceptance, and masturbation can't give you the warmth of feeling excepted, wanted, and desired."

Keep this in mind, the next time you seek to ruin a perfectly good relationship with your friend. Think first of calling them names, or making them feel disapproved of by you, and the hurt that that will cause them. And then keep your fucking privates in your pants, enjoy that movie and pizza they came over for; togetherness and talking and feeling as though someone gets you. Enjoy knowing that that is your buddy, your friend. Save the sex for those who are willing to make a commitment, for those who welcome the constructive criticisms that come with a sexual relationship. Take pride in your friendship's, and not that notch in your bedpost.

I lay awake last night, my mind stirring over a coined expression of mine. I rambled over and over in my mind, this stir of echoes.

the 'Hollows'

So many...

innumerable.

By now you're probably asking yourself,

"what are the hollows"


The 'hollows' are those places in your life where a small death has occurred. Those places where a piece of you has died. That cold place, the shadow realm of your insipidness.
Once a hollow is formed, it becomes even easier to form many other hollows. I once wrote a piece that I hope to share with you, the story was derived from the 'hollows' that I bare.
The story is called 'the Keep.' I described it as being forbidden by angels and for gods to speak, for it was there that, they to could find eternal sleep.

With every inch of our flesh a living canvas of reflection, we seek to have that place so hidden, that at times we tend to hide ourselves inside it. Lost within a world that we ourselves created, entombed, we create our cask, we become our own Amontillado's. I've taken for account that some of us aren't communicators; understandable. This isn't about your ability to communicate, but more so, your ability to hide. Your own cloak and dagger tactics that has you the ability to survive; to carry-on; to put up the good fight. Until one day, the stranger that we feared, becomes the stranger within ourselves.

I have created so many of these wondrous harbingers over the course of my life. Wondrous, because of how unconsciously they were constructed. A waste basket in the fabric of reason. They become detrimental for my existence. It's detrimental to keep locked away those things that I have found myself to have a hard time dealing with. Some may choose to deal with them at a time when the emotions are raw; freshly exposed. They'll allow themselves to ponder over what has happened to them, and over ponder what has happened to them. They hope that they will find some divine answer, and they treat it as though it is the riddle of the Sphinx. Until one day they're a blubbering mess. A shell is all that is left of those who try at first to deal with those extremely cruel punishments that life has to offer again, and again. But for the rest of us there has been what seems to be a gift at first, realized to be a curse in the later. A place where all these atrocities seem to dissipate into the cool calming of the numb. Fade into the ever reassuring quiet of the 'hollow.'

The school age bullies - the Hollow
Family begrudging - the Hollow
Criticisms - the Hollow
Broken dreams - the Hollow
Broken hearts - the Hollow
Failed relationships - the Hollow
Addictions - the Hollow

This list could go on for days, weeks, into years. So many experiences throughout my lifetime. If I were to have allowed myself to be overcome by any one event, I'd still be back at that one event in my life. Or am I?

This is what others, even myself, have termed as baggage. You'll never escape where you have been, or those things you have allowed to happen, or were forced into happening. Life doesn't give a get out of life free card. So in turn, I guess this makes the bulk of us liars, lying by these countless omissions. Those things we are afraid to discuss with others, because we ourselves haven't yet dealt with them. A motto, a philosophy of mine is:


"There is nothing worse in the world than self rape."


To be raped is a horrible event in ones life, but what if you are that rapist of yourself? What happens when you start to violate yourself? This is the downside to the hollow. It is easy to lose yourself into one of them, getting to comfortable with tossing pieces of yourself into them. The hollow becoming your new identity. An example: sex for drugs, or money. Guilt is thrown into the hollow, and justification takes it's place. There are many different kinds of hollows, because there are so many different kinds of people.


But there is that reminder from time to time, calling out from within that great chasm comes your stir of echoes; those times of old. Letting you know that's it's full and there's no more it can hold. Some refer to what I am saying as, "bottling it up inside." But no matter what the expression is, I think you get the gist of this.

My 'Hollow' is full, it has been for awhile now. But I like to share my experiences with others, because I know that somewhere out there, there is someone who needs to hear it. To know that they are not alone in this ever expanding dream in the mind of a god, that they have someone that understands them, that shares that similarity, that commonality.

Make somebody mad sometime... you'll either die or they will become your friend for life." ~Unknown

I found myself one day pondering over a question that had been my own personal riddle of the Sphinx, that question being:


"How one would die, with absolutely no regrets?"


The answer, though rather short, is accompanied by so many heart pangs. But the answer to this question:


"To live life from the heart."



Oh, it's true... live from your heart and there can be no regrets. Sure, you'll suffer a multitude of what I refer to as, small deaths, but that is a part of living. Chance after chance after countless chance's are given to those things you'll come to love. What you give, may not always be returned to you in the fashion that it was given, but that isn't your worry. If I loaned you ten dollars and you never thought of repaying me, that's not on me, I did my part by loaning you the ten dollars.

Life is coupled in love. Those who love experience pain and it is this pain that we have come to refer to as living. Those who do not experience the pain of living, are like planets that have journeyed out beyond the realm of their solar system, cold and lifeless and longing to feel the warmth that has long since left their being. Just ask them.

But love is the eternal answer. Love can be a master and love can be the slave. Love only seeks what it truly needs in order to sustain the will of living. Sure, your heart may go out to many, but it will only love a few. It is the heart that is heroic, not the mind. The mind interprets a house on fire and gives into reason and the flesh into vanity, but it was the heart that would not allow the love of another human being to suffer the death of being in a house on fire. With this, you'll come to find that those things we seek the most to love, are usually in their own house on fire. Our hearts pouring out to the weak, or those things that appear to us as helpless, this is just in our nature.

Don't be ashamed of love, or those multiple misunderstood roads that the heart is going to lead you down. After all, this is your journey. People aren't always going to interpret these actions as having merit or meaning and at times you may seem to others as a bit confused; not so. The clarity will come in the end far all to marvel over, whether for good or for bad, what becomes clear will always be justifiable, more so, than allowing your mind the selfish pleasure of cutting them free.

Love friends, breathes passion, and it is this very passion that has built the world up around you. We should all see ourselves as the architects of a world filled with our loving designs. Simply put, we should live life from our hearts. It won't always be the easy road and it will have its share of pain and a multitude of small deaths, but it is the only life worthy of living. It is the only way at the end of our journeys to truly feel accomplished, for everything in our lives would have been from the heart. !!EVERYTHING!!

EVOL is LOVE

EVOL is in everything that you LOVE.

It's not until you come to embrace EVOL, that you will come to understand true LOVE."

The vision

Those eyes staring back at me, your tears, like the falling rain. Like an infinite sea they pour into me, deep, they fill this well of my pain. Oh... my vision. My vision of all that was good and golden, the wind beneath these wings of wax; how you became the sun. I beg not for your love no more, but to only hold your tongue. You... Soul Serpent; reaper of my longing... how could you? How could you return me to my world of impassioned disbelief's; how I loved you? To return to the cold inhabitants that once surrounded me, and shall once more. Lifeless... listlessly suspended and bound to the stuttering rhythm of this... my broken heart. None could love you to the degrees that I once could, to that level of no comparison.

Listen...?

Our song has gone. That beautiful melody spoken by the harpers of the wind. The time that was never to come, chimes out to my heartache, from within the palm of Kronos' hand. This graying... like winter, I wilt and shrivel before you. Encompassed, only by the end of all that I believed in. Surrounded in new haunts, and those broken dreams of what we were to be.

Don't speak... for your eyes will never lie to me.

This happened to be my most popular blog, originally written on March 17, 2008 @ 1:48pm, posted on Myspace and now brought here to you, my BLOGGER friends.


The picture is by the artist Omen2501


I turned on some Coldplay and I opened up this blog. I was instantly adrift, the smell of wood and smoldering stone, the dust in my mouth. I could smell the diesel fuel from this mechanized menace; terror invoked. I imagined the conversation as she strode haplessly to great them, I could hear the pounding rhythm of her heart beat, as tears began to swell in my eyes. This red gown ever so aloft on the breeze that surrounds her. Death the eminent. Her arm outstretched, this flower arose; eternal is her garden. In one instant, a flash of piercing light, she had gone. But that taste in my mouth, that taste of searing flesh, I'll remember from now on.


Take note:

I was able to put on some Coldplay and sift through the ruins of a painting, while somewhere in the world, someone wakes up to this stark cold reality every morning, ' cause this is their world.

Psalm 41-44
There is prophecy throughout the Bible,
you just have to know what you are looking at.
It's often times not as obvious as looking at this clock.

Here is a sample of Psalm 41... coincidental 41-44, I think not.


Psalm 41:5-13


5Mine enemies speak evil of me, When shall he die, and his name perish? 6And if he come to see me, he speaketh vanity: his heart gathereth iniquity to itself; when he goeth abroad, he telleth it. 7All that hate me whisper together against me: against me do they devise my hurt. 8An evil disease, say they, cleaveth fast onto him: and now that he lieth he shall rise up no more. 9Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me. 10 But thou, O Lord, be merciful unto me, and raise me up, that I may requite them. 11By this I know that thou favorest me, because my enemy doth not triumph over me. 12And as for me, thou upholdest me in mine integrity, and settest me before thy face for ever. 13Blessed be the Lord God of Israel from everlasting, and to everlasting. Amen, and Amen.

~KJV


Always try to keep this in your heart, it may be the only voice you hear one day:


"First they came for the Socialists
And I did not speak out, because I was not a Socialist
Then they came for the Trade Unionist
And I did not speak out, because I was not a Trade Unionist
Then they came for the Jews
And I did not speak out, because I was not a Jew

Then they came for me
And there was no one left to speak for me

~Attributed to Martin Niemoller anti-Nazi Germany Pastor (1892-1984)


It's always a lot easier to point the finger when it's in a direction away from your own self. Now turn that finger around and place it upon your forehead.

See...

Now there's the problem!

( as far as the clock atop, it's two people per minute )
Wednesday, May 06, 2009 11:49 AM

There is only one clear cut solution to peace...
The removal of 5,999,999,999 of you... so I can live in peace." ~Finias Groove

My own method is to distinguish each thing according to it's nature, and to specify how it behaves; other men, on the contrary, are as forgetful and heedless in their waking moments of what is going on around them as they are during sleep." ~Heraclitus

"It is death to souls to become water, and it is death to water to become earth. Conversely, water comes into existence out of earth, and souls out of water." ~Heraclitus

I don't feel sorry for you Sunshine...

When you come on like the rain

And I may not always no where I'm going

But I know I'm not here to stay

You know the sun always feels so much better

On my back than on my face

I don't feel sorry for you Sunshine...

When you come on like the rain

I may not always know where I'm going

But it's what I leave along the way

I hear the wind begin to whisper

The leaves begin to sing a gentle praise

I don't feel sorry for you Sunshine...

When you come on like the rain

You know my soul at times seems restless

Like it's being pulled down by such immense weight

And these legs they get to moving

While trying to get free from the reign

Well...

I don't feel sorry for you Sunshine...

Oh... when you come on like the rain

And I may not always know where I'm going

But it's what I leave along the way

I don't feel sorry for you Sunshine...

When you come on like the rain

And I may not always know just where I'm going

But I know I'm not here to stay

Mystery Love...

And it never made the 7seven wonders of the world. No one knows where it begins or where it ends. It's as boundless as the infinite canopy of stars that align the heavens, but still, it never made the list. I guess mankind never took in account that it was love that fueled his passions and his inner longings to create those spectacles we now behold.

Mystery Love...

Top of the lsit

Lord...

I was just sitting back the other day, the sun just a shinin', the clouds were rolling by. By the way, did I tell you about the fish that were jumpin'? You know, speaking about jumpin', I played hop scotch as a kid and I could never get past the smell of scotch tape... "Man I used to love taping that across my nose and holdong it back all pig like."

Pigs... did you hear about the PIG FEVER?

And fever... I had a fever once as a kid, one of the best hallucinogenic experiences of all times. Everything got to swirling around and all cluttered together, but real pretty like; Kinda like this fucking ADHD!

You see me
Though transparent
My love
My pain
A heart that beats within
Is somewhere lost again

This desert of unknowing
Sorrows friend
Harbinger of falsehoods
Harrow'er of sins
Triumphant

Gallant
Yet broken
I am yet but a whisper
Upon these winds...
The winds of remembrance

You call out to me
Like wind nimbly walking by
And stroking her fingers through a chime
It is only this presence

That can I feel

For you my love
Have left me
Or is it I that have left you?

In this
My only image is reason
It lies weeping
Knelt down before the alter of Becoming

I have become the song sung in tears
I have become the daunting task
A weeping stone
That which is listlessly suspended
Between what could have been
And what now lies
In this ...
The Garden of Sorrows

I/Nimbus

Black torrent
flowing
surging
murky depths

Tears in silence
heartaches of an age
consume me

I have become life
mired in living deaths

I stand alone at it's edge
peering into this river of death
called, Styx

I am

Will I

Narcissus in drowning

Do I love LIFE?

Or is it in Death...
I'll find life's beginning?

Tears wept
are they for the life worth living?

Mine...
of silent repenting

Who am I
Alone
At this rivers edge

In the stilled air

In it's calming of life's calamities

Calling to me...

The River Styx