Bright lights and dim bulbs.

8 11 2015

I was thinking while out walking the dog, walking the dog often promotes thinking.

Money is the problem, we imagine that it’s useful, but it’s not really, it’s a big black wall with a sign stuck on it which reads “You cannot pass”. Even for those who have enough money, it has restricted the richness and beauty of the world that we might’ve had, if the poor were allowed to shine.

There are bright lights out there, ordinary folk with massive, life altering ideas. Perhaps it’s a cure for cancer, perhaps it’s a musical sound you’ve never heard before, perhaps it’s an invention, who knows?… but these people cannot get to first base, because they have no money.

Instead we’re stuck with dim bulbs to lead the way, greedy politicians hurting the weak, instilling fear through the rotten teeth of religion. Encouraging the growth of dirty industry while the masses are conned through bought media.

How can we live this way?

Wolfie Rankin.

Working myself out

6 11 2015

Giving yourself room to work out the way you think, is always a good idea.

I tend to write it out, and put it out there.

It’s mostly for my own benefit, and I might get a comment which might shine a light on something.

Last night was quite hot and humid, it was a night in which often I’d find sleep to be difficult, and yet I was tired enough for it to come. Jette, my Alaskan Malamute, spent part of the night sleeping half-way under my bed.

I seem to remember a set of dreams, one was a psychological thriller, a nasty position for anyone to find themselves in.

My fears seldom come in the form of monsters, since I think Monsters are far less frightening than people. Monsters are simple, A stake through the heart of old Drac and it’s all over, a shot of Electricity for The Thing, Ice for The Blob. Human beings however are far more complicated, so all my bad dreams are about Humans.

Horror films don’t even rate a “Meh” for me, no matter how frightening they’re supposed to be.

I’m not going to talk about that dream, only that I had it, and would rather have not.

The other involved David Bowie.

A friend sent me a picture of Bowie from the time he was on Soul Train years ago, A young man dressed in blue and yellow, I was familiar with the image as it was recently used on the re-issued Fame picture disc.

I was dreaming that I was friends with the young Bowie, He was just hanging around in our home, Mum was here, she seemed to like him, It was lovely to have him around, I wasn’t seeing him as a big celebrity, but merely as a friend. But a friend I really liked having around.

I’m a frustrated musician, something which has become clearer to me in recent times.

I loved music, always have, from the earliest days on earth, from a far younger age than most people.

At one point Mum was going to get me piano lessons, but decided against it because I was somewhat hyperactive as a child, would I have sat for lessons?

I used to sit down and sing a lot, often in the garden, on the roof of an old shed in the shade of an apple tree, and then one day just shut up shop at the age of about nine, because I realised people on the radio sang better than I. but I had not heard about singing teachers, I didn’t know you could go to someone’s house and learn how to sing properly or to play an instrument. I thought School was just a place you were dumped and forced to learn Mathematics.

My upbringing was strict in some ways, and that only helped to stunt my growth, sit there, be quiet, behave yourself.

I learnt to be embarrassed about who I was, or would have been.

School only made matters worse, Kids are cruel, and sadly, very often they don’t grow out of it, as I learned later.

I failed to meet people who might have grabbed me by the collar and pulled me along, I think that would have been useful.

I felt incredibly timid, I wouldn’t talk to people, even if I really wanted to.

Social media has helped to drive much of that out, it would have been useful as a teenager, but I’m thankful I have access to it now.

So now I’ve met, and spoken to people I have admired, online.

And while their personal fame is the worm on the hook, What I want is to share a cuppa with them and ask them how their dog is today, you know, the kind of thing everyone else talks about.

And I can do that now, I don’t have that fear anymore.

Another of my dreams involved being intimate with someone I knew from School, and have bumped into now and then over the years.

Sex dreams are incredibly rare to me, it’s almost as though I have some sort of censorship office in my brain, checking all my ideas, and thumping a huge blood-red rubber stamp over things… BANNED… BANNED… BANNED!!!

Often Mum walks in with sandwiches or something and buggers everything up.

I’m aware of a sort of psychological “loosening up” going on.

I recently bought a guitar, partly due to the story I was writing, partly to say “Well here you go, do it, if you can”, and partly to wean myself off the internet, which I love, but it takes up too much of my personal time, I want to light up other areas of my mind.

It’s difficult, but I did expect difficult, and my mind doesn’t operate at a fast speed, part of the reason I don’t drive. My mind operates at the same speed as yours does on a good dose of Valium, I’m not quick, but I can reason a thing out eventually.

Who knows, I may awaken something while playing with this alien thing in my lap, although it’s now as alien to me now since I have been playing it.

I always wanted to play a synth, but a synth is kind of disconnected from the body, and is a bit too much like a computer, which as I’ve said, I’ve somewhat over-dosed on. So I will leave keyboards for others.

Wolfie Rankin.