I am sure to die upon this earth, awaken never feared the darkened night they’ve made me hunger stretched and limb, but when time comes the milky way shines-up clearly spotted richness held through deeper soil in other ages years of newness found after some sparkful energy takes hold upon the open-hearted species cradled near. Food and water in the forest tropical to desert speeches décolletage the pretty breaches thrust unknowingly to feema beaches hell with O-bamas banana manners enriched with soy and agent orange fleeing ever far to sunny islands in the yachts of urban taxes filling high the toxin gases of the conscious waning masses.
My thoughts may not be as free as my hands, but my guts are real. The fireman leaves the house before it falls, the motorcycle wak shifts a gear on stumple tracks, a naked bushman crumples dead to save his skin.
We are born to bondage as the credits ran out. Man’s intelligence glamours is betrayal of his own kind. Power and control finds delight in fundamental stupidity of self-indulging addiction. Educating yourself and waiving of true knowledge is not an easy chore, but is keeps our minds free. And, it keeps me proud.
All that I can accomplish through my own experience, cannot be challenged with any misleading media flash a “New World Order” has composed. Conspiracy theories are tossed-out daily, yes – some they are, other not – the confusion is wanted to make us believe. Build on your experience and learn from the past so clear in front of us.
Our minds can adjust and be freed from conditioning, like ads all over the hemisphere. Block-out and screw-in which is worthy of kin.
Sometimes I get up in the morning and find myself in an ugly mood – I find faults in that which may greet me so innocently, walking about with unbrushed teeth and a steaming coffee cup. I dress-up casually as casually as I can find to quicken the pace and ease the decision mode, before true challenges face my business code. Pressure on efficiency of labor and time each worker or co-inhabitant infiltrating my spheres. Unsorted letters heaved on my piles, off to the guillotine. With my body’s load I thrust my hips stretched-out legs well behind to give tension needed in impairing the vice heading towards an unsuspecting me, my shoulders fall forward and hands hammering each side, whilst the elbow goes upward to bring the fat bugger straight down on his knees. Little be noticed bypassed the trimmed-up fairy bubbled guild. The debt I hold the charges I lay, but where in hell does the real value sway? The sky and clouds and winds and trees with a few chirping bees may roam our planet for centuries, no man nor wallet nor old-fashioned convert could match this diluvial scam to out do like was done to a dinosaur. I gobble and make clearings of forests never minding the seedlings a true nature does. I eat I wear I drive I fly I boat I mate I land where my heart desires more, no offence in defence of the pure pledged addictions my mother has imposed embryo. How old may I get to see a public garden not dumped with old scrap and last night’s residue? The future lies behind me as I cannot see, the past I see daily in front and all too clear, whether disrupted or smothered blatantly synonymous to present cause, is it all hallucination sensuously never reached the drug of all drugs be cradled by mom.
I do not know why I sometimes write these strings of thought – my job and my hobbies occupy my feet and sometimes my head, but what I do not really understand, is why so few have commented my blogs?
I take a piece of paper and a pen, sit myself down in a quite enlightened room with incoming rays of sun. The empty page I place in front and begin my flow of print. No thought aloud just sums of words to fill the still and patient wooden grains. It fills and fills and looses ground to heat my light and cheerful brainy top. The minutes pass the rays keep warm and as the letters slowly drop my mind goes crazy in delight of freedom the those bloody thought of pictures brought in front of me to choose the past I not. I turn around and see tomorrow not yet there is aging fast behind my back. “Walden” I read and motorcycles I mend in the woods to hug the biggest trunk I find hurricane winds of fierce and forceful soggy pricks against my itchy epidermis. Now a phrase without a sense nor commas and a point but match the tone along the street a wooden shoe swims to fast your cold tummy kettles in the hidden sky to fallen monks of poles gone poor fasting on the rich.
Back again to senseless gossip emptiness or none too strong this clamping on the squared-off keys against the touches of my polished turquoise nails. The more I write the freer we get the man against his will to mind the ways a woman changes quick her speech to fit her very will. The forest speaks to me loud in silence no others hear just the vain pigs digging deep to hit themselves on silver plated tablets growing pains. Oh yes say no thrice delights the noise within my neck stuck yet not lest. In its inextricable authentically magnificent archives luring devoutly beyond a clench of knowledge jurisdiction managing the media and the modes of conducted norm steadfast and sincere to keep their trophies pretty and nicely packed in cloths of silk and frenzy prays till the death they’ve parted long. 60’000 words the language holds or more, the fuses sparkle through the darkness hitting cavemen and their queen of virgin beaches on our sphere. Omnipresent and well into soluble texting machinery the motor drives there where my hands glide in trance of resolution.
Is a women’s quota or Quota for Women in high positions more humane?
More than 25 year ago I acquired a U.S. business management degree and have worked 15 years in the financial industry, now I am the Head of a Department in a Municipal office. Everywhere in the world where women navigate at highest positions within corporations, business booms and economic indicators shoot up – GNP, NASDAQ, APPA, ARNA or AVEO – they all show our economic value of success – the statistics prove our progressive record, as the economist Milton Friedman or John Maynard Keynes were motivated to prove through their thoughts. Renowned consulting companies easily convince clients of these given facts, and fulfill their obliged women’s quota with respect and foresight on extra-earnings. While other countries readily carry out the drafted laws, Switzerland is lagging far behind. I wonder why?
We women are our own most critical observer, we tend to have the feeling of needing to prove ourselves to our outer world and some suffer a lifetime under certain childhood histories – which we endorse guilty to ourselves, until our minds become a fragile emotional bomb. This pattern is imprinted into our daily lives, and will be carried on. We are extremely punctual, reliable, ambitious, hard-working, well-organized, far-sighted for long-term success, obedient, disciplined and have acquired a lot of valuable knowledge – extensively learned from our male role models. In no country in this world where the economic indicators point high, is it really good for man or nature. Thriving pharmaceutical values display our growth of the sick and the dying. Our initiated marketing surveys on small children, are collected to have greater impact on the purchasing powered mom. Where and under what circumstances our dresses are produced, is of little interest to us in front of the enchanted mirror. We also, are the result of our environment and social drilling. At first I believed it just needed more women in business and in politics and in science, to be able to prove our humanity. Perhaps in our moving forward zeitgeist exists our human kindness in science (and technology), both being independent of our current money system. At no other time on earth as in these last 50 years, have so many people died, on poverty.
There is a Venus Project – Jacques Fresco’s science experiment. I had written this before my work and will not tolerate leisure literature while working from my employees. How could our solar-system bring in prime-time broadcasted indicators to display the growth of fresh air and clean waters?
The original I had written in German:
Ich habe in USA ein betriebswirtschaftliches Studium vor mehr als 25 Jahres abgelegt und arbeitete 15 Jahre in der Finanzbranche, nun bin ich Abteilungsleiterin im Städtischen Betrieb. Überall auf der Welt wo Frauen spitzen Positionen erklingen, boomt das Unternehmen und die Wirtschaftsindikatoren schiessen empor – GNP oder BIP, NASDAQ, APPA, ARNA oder AVEO – sie alle spiegeln unseren Wirtschaftswert des Erfolgs – die Statistik belegt unser Erfolgsfaktor wie die Ökonomen Milton Friedmann oder John Maynard Keynes wahrhaftig voran dachten. Namhafte Beratungskonzerne leisten Überzeugungsarbeit aufgrund dieser Tatsachen und bringen somit Frauenquoten ins Gespräch. Wo andere Länder dies bereits mit Hochachtung und einer selbstverständlichen Leichtigkeit umsetzen, hingt die Schweiz nach. Warum wohl?
Wir Frauen sind am strengsten mit uns selber, wir haben das Gefühl ständig etwas beweisen zu müssen und manche leiden z.T. ein Lebenslang unter gewissen Kindheitsgeschichten – die uns ein schlechtes Gewissen eintrichtern bis zum Überfluss unserer Gemüter. Das Muster prägt und will weiter getragen werden. Wir sind pünktlich, zuverlässig, strebsam, fleissig, gut organisiert, weitsichtig für langfristigen Erfolg, gehorsam, diszipliniert und haben uns einiges an wertvolles Wissen angeeignet – so wie es uns die Männerwelt vorgelebt hat. In keinem Land dieser Welt wo die Wirtschaftsindikator auf hoch zeigen, geht es dem Menschen gut. Florierende Pharmawerte deuten auf Kranke und Sterbende. Wir ziehen Markentingumfragen bei Kleinkindern durch, um besser deren Einwirkung auf die Kaufkraft der Mutter zu setzen. Wo und unter welchen Umständen unsere Kleider hergestellt werden interessiert uns beim Anblick wenig. Auch wir, sind das Ergebnis unseres Umfelds. Anfangs dachte ich es brauche nur mehr Frauen in Unternehmen und in der Politik und in der Wissenschaft um Menschlichkeit erweisen zu können. Im Vorwärts bewegenden Zeitgeist erblickt vielleicht diese Vorstellung in der Wissenschaft (und Technologie), beide unabhängig von unser aktuelles System des Geldes. Zu keinem anderen Zeitpunkt dieser Erde sind so viele Menschen gestorben wie in den letzten 50 Jahren, an Armut.
Es gibt ein Venus Projekt – Jacques Fresco‘s wissenschaftliche Experiment. Ich schrieb dies Zeilen vor meiner Arbeit und dulde keine Freizeit Literatur während der Arbeit von meinen Mitarbeitern. Wie könnte das Sonnen-System einen wirksamen Medien-Indicator erzeugen, wonach wir stetig unsere frische Luft und klares Wasser erblicken liessen?
Water bends and trickles and flows and squirts out of nowhere, fire and stones are passed by or dwindled in fierceness and size, it takes up our toxins and chokes what may breathe lightly at night, it foams to a lather a mill’s residue, the path may be altered as its texture changed, but always and forever will water be.
Man thinks himself strong and mighty big to conquer the weakest and pocket its gains, woman thinks likewise and wishes to mingle in upper-class biz, amazon whisks her tender feet to splash firmly the redness under her stretchy epider-mis. The empiricism of self-defeat winning through membranes of limestone minds, will eat-up the nutrients rich and free for a few worthless treasures called dollars and gold. Let us eat and play and throw the untouched away, let us be the parasite cradled in mirrored arms.
The caterpillar is fed until the butterfly can thrive.
Be proud not your kin and young species fame, the world turns further as our universe sparks growth, to free and deal-over some élite parasite called vain a global bank’s haven – we trade these fleshy genes off to bring us the sprouts of clean water and a trench of wholesome filled dirt.
The earth is only a speck in the dark, but she is water, no more and no less will be lost.
Free money is dear.
Free money is clear.
Free money is in gear.
I buy what I need with that I can spare.
I eat what I need with that I can cook and wear.
My freedom ends where yours may begin and we are
more Information on “Plan B” follow link to “Wissensmanufaktur and Rico Albrecht”
This video may not be so suitable for untouched minds, but it arouses parts rarely moved in manmade’s oils of kin.
The Bio way to new Life and Liberty – free to eat and drink on laws dictated from Nature alone, seeds allowed to spray and grow and rest and reborn on healthy earth. Good agriculture leaves the ground enriched with regenerated nutrients, poor and fast agriculture leaves a raped ground and will not produce nutrients of its own. Good farming leaves the soil its own elements and living species as tiny as they may get to supplement each other and strengthen where needs be met. The natural forest lines are wild of life and love new kinds of inspiration from outside worlds. Did you know that plants can communicate with the soil to be exchanging nourishment along the way most benefitting its offspring, albeit those plants haven’t been tampered with genetically through man’s hampering touches.
lots could f it in here, but only one f inalizes f emale f antasies. My mind makes no sense only messages pop through and mix my thoughts with chores labored daily in layered limbs gone stray. People get rich through work another man does, some get very awesome on debts another man’s done, a lucky few get ugly hearts on labour and debts a great many people keep at.
At Principe de Piemonte this summer past, I lie my naked slipped-up body on the cushioned spread and await four hands to pass their driven strokes. The sportive version I had booked, to take some tension off my spine and choke my gorge to bouncing limbs. The price of 80 Euros well displaced to free the gut of bones malnourished at earlier times. Fifty minutes go by quick, oozing down the buttered film and walk-out new however I may be.
The italian lover tends his tendons on the dow and rolls out the edges to curved designs. High-heeled ladies stand in line and anticipate with drooling tongues, the odors left inside to buds of tasty dolce crepes surprise for a total pride of four Euros and fifty Cents.
Awareness and presence of man’s weakness, may be omnipresent in this tiny little country, but they know how to live well more so than perhaps in other “civilized” lands.
Within an illegal frame of networks, its own people take the utmost of care to establish harmony and well-being within its own limitless boundaries – family, work, companies, restaurants, beach suprematism – the unwritten yet “known” orders of life. A daily call from mom if you have eaten well today, a polite denial to a bikini topped client, a secured bike-free pedestrian pavement for bambini walkabout, children reprimanded to obedience (this perhaps questionable) at the sparkling pool, work laboring to mind the heart.
The branzino finished with some frescos on the side, parfait the creme topped tiny coffee and presto to the start. The landscape no more beautiful than those of other flourished terrains, the buildings and churches and villas and historical sites – no more remarkable than the Twin Towers once symbolizing an independent people in wonderland, but the unseen people’s culture make this country this Italy breathe and breathe and breathe. Their love for emotions and pleasing another one’s heart, makes your own pump out. No other man-made capacity could carry out more – “Ce vive la nonna” la dolce vita – Questo é vero!