I was told quite frankly that I am a complainer, at least my blog reflects this and i agree, thats why it iscalled 'The Mooans and Groans of the CBB", its is supposed to be all about being a complainer, like what the hell am I doing here on this God forsaken Planet! Did I ask to be here, did I choose to be here? Like, why do I have to go through this cycle of Life, Death and Rebirth? Did I volunteer myself to be a part of this wheel of existance? So with all these in mind, I became a complainer, but a creative complainer for those who have eyes to see and sense enough to read between the lines and my artworks as a whole. I try to not only complain about life but try to find solutions to my complains and put it all on record for posterity. Right or wrong, good or bad, its all there to be seen as only a p
art of the sicknes
s of my own mind.
On the twelve of this month I will turn sixty! Like Wow! Where did all the years go? Here I am still figuring out why and wherefor of my life, the roads that have led me here, the experiences that have created this complaining character, this sceptical and stubbornly ignorant individual floating along like a floatsam among the myriads of floatsam on this ocean called life. Asking the same old question of who am I and getting nowhere near the answer I have created so many thoughts an ideas about myself that if you ask me who are you I will still be at a lost to come up with a clean answer. I am the sum total of my existance? I am, That I am? I am a pigment of your imagination? I think, therfore I am? I Am...IAm...wasting my time. I eat sleep shit and die, thats who I am. A complainer? That too I Am. A rebel without a cause, a seeker like a farmer looking for his buffaloe while riding on it.
The Zen Master asked, "Who is asking?"
I answered, "I am asking"
'Show me this 'I'!" He insisted.
I fell asleep for a few minutes and woke up with rude awakening... I am no more.
art of the sicknes
s of my own mind.On the twelve of this month I will turn sixty! Like Wow! Where did all the years go? Here I am still figuring out why and wherefor of my life, the roads that have led me here, the experiences that have created this complaining character, this sceptical and stubbornly ignorant individual floating along like a floatsam among the myriads of floatsam on this ocean called life. Asking the same old question of who am I and getting nowhere near the answer I have created so many thoughts an ideas about myself that if you ask me who are you I will still be at a lost to come up with a clean answer. I am the sum total of my existance? I am, That I am? I am a pigment of your imagination? I think, therfore I am? I Am...IAm...wasting my time. I eat sleep shit and die, thats who I am. A complainer? That too I Am. A rebel without a cause, a seeker like a farmer looking for his buffaloe while riding on it.
The Zen Master asked, "Who is asking?"
I answered, "I am asking"
'Show me this 'I'!" He insisted.
I fell asleep for a few minutes and woke up with rude awakening... I am no more.
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