Hammering again the disgusting connivance between money and ego

That's how you make money, by proposing an identity feature for those who think they miss a part.

Really almost everything that sells is!, think about it, and many books or tv shows are amongst them, it's not only objects like jeans, or cars, or furnitures, or cell phones, everything that is bought by people of modern societies, generally it is in the desperate attempt to add something to what is perceived as a deficient identity, that is never complete, never full, never perfect (even food is used like that), it goes beyong de purpose of usefulness, most of the time this is just an excuse to get the object or feeling we crave at the moment (even relations between people can be based on that same trickery). That's a rule of business, Using the ego in most people to pack money.

(i'm annoying i guess, i should accept it... but my problem is : how could i find a job if i don't want to be part of this scheme?! For now i don't know where to search, maybe someday someone will stretch  his hand at me to be part of a project that will aim to change those greedy habits and teach humans the truth to respect themselves.)

J.Homme

It's a room, not much bigger than a classroom, half full of people, and a stage is installed against one wall, i'm attending, hidden on the left side in the audience, Josh Homme enters with his usual cocky attitude, i can feel excitation and noise around me, i am just an observer.
The musicians plug their instruments, and i don't recognize the usual members of Homme's band, that's my first surprise, they play a rough set, a bluesy rock'n'roll, with a lot of distorted guitars, pretty good. Black out.
In the next scene, i'm lying on the stage, my back on an amplifier, the audience is still there, chatting loudly, the concert is over but everyone is at the same place, except me, the musicians are still there, now behind me, and some other people are also lying down on the stage, it feels like one of those hippies rock gathering from the seventies.
Then suddenly Josh Homme appears on my right, and settles next to me, very close, like our elbows are touching, like we are the closest friends, he is slouched, and i notice he is completely stoned, high, on drugs, and i say it to him right away, in the most casual tone, despite the strangeness of the situation, i feel very confortable, and maybe a bit proud that Josh Homme chose to crash down next to me in front of all those people while i was just trying to hide (though i don't know how i ended up on stage).
He is talking to me about science and complex formulas, and i speak to him in english, i remember clearly using the words "mathematicians" and "scientists" when i was picturing what he was telling me about.
Then suddenly he takes a green pen and writes a whole series of numbers and calculation on his left forearm, at an unreal speed, and somewhat i understand and i am happy from this sharing with The Josh Homme.

The interesting stuff happened in the next dream, i'm recounting all of this previous story to one of my friend, acknowledging that it was a dream i remembered, and when i arrive to the part of the writing on the forearm, all excited i present my own forearm, and there is the whole thing, a series of green numbers.

There i woke up.
Isn't it like "Inception", a dream within a strange dream, i think it is interesting so i put it down there.

Peace, Mister Josh Homme.

Little story about past relationships

Sometimes i think back on past relationships, about all the little things that weren't quite right, the awkward moments, my surrender at times, going out of my way, the process leading to those experiences, and in my mind i wince, shouting "Damn! I knew from the start that was wrong.", i reckon those were mistakes, like we have to fall before being able to ride a bike, i learned few things but deep down i knew i wasn't made to stay with those people, and proof is when i remember it i've got a knot in my stomach.

Then the other day i was in my bathroom washing my face and i started fantasizing about a girl i met recently, i built up a scene from the moments we spent together, she was joining me in the light and she was naked, and i was naked, i couldn't resist to hug her and press slightly my body against hers, then came this urge to kiss her, just to kiss her passionately, like we did, i remember our kisses, and at the moment i craved it so hard, hugging her white silky body and kissing avidly, and in my mind i shouted, "Damn!", not because i didn't want that moment to be real again, but on the contrary because i miss her so much it would hurt to remember her sweet presence.

I saw it as a sign, my being says it, some events of the past i want to discard, and some are so precious that i would live in it forever.

Musing

I have this impression that in modern societies we perceive success by the number of sales that is done, therefore we get famous by the quantity of money that we pass around and that an absolute minority end up hoarding in their safes. No matter that we sell books, cds, washing machines, or the wind of dream and stupidity, money makes glory, money makes humanity talk and stirs covetousness, we often know the people selling the products but rarely those who make them, we often know the performer of a song but rarely the actual composer.
In my case i don't care for money, a minimum is enough to live, if i can work and give my energy for something i believe in i could do it for free, almost litterally, if i have to be known i want it to be for my gentleness, for my humanity, because i illuminate people's lives around me, by spreading a climate of comfort and acceptance, by protecting what is natural, sane, and healthy for the planet.
It's not pretentious, it's a value i believe in, that's the kind of promotion i want to do, i discard completely from the race for money and fame.

There was a time where my prospect in life would have been to be my own version of the hermit of the Maine, i would live in a tent deep in the nearby woods, i had searched for spots where fruit trees grow, where i could catch rabbits on roundabouts at night, and noted it all on a map, but now...
Now there's this girl i want to meet absolutely, and everything is changed, i envision a completely different life, not as a careless recluse anymore, but as a fully loving partner, with an humble but comfortable space amongt humans.

Saving Humanity

For Konrad Lorenz here are the two main abilities everyone should develop to save humanity :

Humor (self-mockery included), not taking anything too seriously

and

Knowledge (self-knowledge included), wanting to know the truth behind anything.

Random thought, the craziness of written words

I was thinking how through words we have to be descriptive and over the top to let the other feel how we feel inside, while in real time, with people, or anyone, we seem calmer and composed, more rational to be able to communicate sensibly, exerting the passion in real life like it is in books or poems would be very strange and mad, wouldn't it?, it's an inner world, and despite we can enjoy anything powerfully on the inside we don't have to rave and crawl on the ground to show how much we are touched by something, writing is an emphasis of what's happening inside, and the sensible human is enjoying it for himself without the need to force the other in that world of emotions, everything can be serene, and the attachment you have for someone else is shown in more subtle ways. At least that's how i feel i live it, maybe because i'm very conscious of what's happening in me and what is my relation to this world and others.