The Blissful Idiot

The blissful idiot walks up (and down) the road
Two, three, sometimes four times a day.
It's all he knows to do.
Everyone thinks he doesn't matter,
'Cause we all think he doesn't care.
I think he must be lonely but I'm like everybody else.
Imagine if we open to him we'll discover he needs more
Than what we have to give
Just like all of us.
And just like all of us
He's so lonesome that
One soul responding to him
Would be owned forever

Things that happen to me

It was 1965. I met a crazy man in Toronto. He was incredibly dark handsome with black/brown burning eyes and a rapid mind. He had gone crazy in Turkey, was scooped off the streets in rags with no id, no money and put into a Turkish prison. His identity was finally established and his parents brought him back to Toronto where he was hospitalized, detoxed and ultimately released. I met him mere days later. I was fascinated by the thought of insanity. How far could you go "out of your mind" and still come back? Here was someone who had gone over to the other side of mental function and returned. I wanted to do that too. More to come...

Welcome to my World

We each perceive the whole in an entirely unique way. It's always been a wonder to me that any of us communicate at all. I have been labouring under the delusion that one day I would write a book about my travels, my experiences, my life. It's not easy and as it turns out, not all that important to anyone but myself and a "small circle of friends". Who first said that? Then here in the wonder world of Internet there comes to be a place where I can tell my story . If anyone hears (reads) it or not remains to be seen. This blogging thing is brand new to me so bear with me as I leap word first into the fray. Welcome to my world as I see it.