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The “Blues” rang through a smoky pub on a Friday evening in the heart of Holland, as I embraced my surfacing feelings one by one, taking in every moment, every beat of my erratic heart. (Don’t you see I want to be free and sing like a figure of divinity?) I wanted to sing so magnificently, dissecting the in between day time and night time sky so that every Angel above would acknowledge me, wishing to make love to me. I wandered for a bit hearing wonderful melodies all around me, as I made my way through Amsterdam’s famous Vondelpark.
I have everything: The strength of optimism, my beautiful mind, my bountiful soul. (God, old Aretha Franklin has a way of getting deep down inside of you.) In every direction there are vibrant, beautiful, crazy fucking characters surrounding me, not one ever missing a beat.
THIS IS AMSTERDAM!
Most people come to Amsterdam to experiment, not knowing what they are looking for. But I knew why I had come to Amsterdam. (It was to let go everything go, to expand my spirit, be able to truly taste life for the very first time.)
I have come to be at peace over the last several days of my life, grow like a plot of tulips surrounded by a pack of still, guarding, silver reptiles silently staring at all. In Europe, the groove is everything. (The Europeans listen and are hip to the heaviest music going!) I nurse a frosty beer while riding an Ecstasy haze, feeling every sound of the illustrious Music move through me, growing inside of me. In the corner of a Beatnik café, I find myself falling deeper and deeper into a Alfred Hitchcock “Vertigo” poster that’s framed on a pulsating tavern wall. [HITCHCOCK WAS THE MUTHAFUCKER ALRIGHT!]
“I love any man who can raise the dead,” I acknowledge to myself.
[Voice from a Universal voice.] “How can you escape the sounds of Soul while riding the Soul train?”
“You can’t. Either you accept the ride, or you continue to live in denial.”
Accepting, rather than declining the ride, makes me believe I am alive, somehow part of all “This!”; This life, this existence, this GIFT. I wish one day to form a band that will emotionally challenge every creature it confronts. (Amsterdam is the place.) I can feel 100% pure euphoria running through each of my throbbing veins. (The only thing I can’t do is fly. I tried to, but fell flat on my fucking face.)
Sunny days I walk without a care, feeling like the hand of God is guiding my every step. I look over my shoulder and realize that Life truly is a miracle, a gift, a sensational blessing that most of the time we take for granted. To be continued…
MR. CLOWN FROWN
Once upon a time a clown told me a story about a special universe where people go to explore their deep-seated desires and animosities. I inquired of this clown, terrified but yet curious, “Where is this special place you speak of, Mr. Clown Frown?” Such a maniacal frown the clown wore like sorrow upon a tormented canvas.
“Is it safe to say that this place is not for everyone?” I continued with my anxiety ridden inquiry,as Mr. Clown Frown stared into me with such a relentless stare, taking me by the hand and leading me down a cherry soaked road that was at the edge of our forsaken world. There were no words that came from the broken hearted clown’s mouth, as he only communicated by broken sign language and telepathy. I started to dial in to my new surroundings and began to witness things so much more vividly then I ever had before; IT IS NEVER SAFE WHEN YOU BECOME THE WITNESS.
“Is it safe to say this could be our last day, Mr. Clown Frown?” How quickly Mr. Clown Frown’s sullen expression turned around, evolving into a razor smile, as all around us the venomous sky began to rain red brick red. Behind me, I could sense Mr. Clown Frown and I were no longer alone. Giddy up.
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Happy Hump Day to all and wanted to let everyone know that I am going to try to continue with my new video blog, “Costa Rica Chronicles” even though Google wrongfully shut down my account. I am asking everyone that enjoys what I do to please donate what you can through Paypal to firstname.lastname@example.org and also receive my new books, “Breathe” and “Found Ground” as a token of my appreciation. Much Love, Layden.
“Belief stems from a lack of fear.”
Remember, as a child, that feeling of invincibility, that feeling that anything is possible, no matter how unrealistic or downright foolish the dream seemed, believing you could fly, soar through the stirring skies, never accepting “No” for an answer? Funny as we get “older”and fall from time to time how quickly we start to disbelieve, become shell shocked like the boxer who gets knocked out for the first time and can’t seem to shake the fear of getting hit again. (Unless you can channel that youthful vibrancy and keeping moving forward, Fear continues to grow, not dissipate.)
Fear: The damnation of so many, killing dreams and aspirations before they even begin.
“What about words and their effect on our success and a living a fruitful life?”
Words: Crippling, defeating, seething, motivating, sometimes amazingly uplifting.
“You will never be able to fucking do it!”
Why would one say such deflating words to another, furthermore, why does one believe such derogatory words from another?
“I don’t mind turning gray, growing older, walking through a park reminiscing, but FEAR?”
I wish to be young internally for as long as I am blessed to live, conquering all of my fears, whole-heartedly believing anything and everything is possible, without doubt or hesitation.