A good woman is indeed, plenty of things.

A good woman is plenty of things, plenty pleasant…plenty intruiguing…and quite the head on her shoulders. There is so much sophistication…yet she bears an inherent simplicity that almost baffles him, like a little girl…with not much to her but a lovely smile…tantrums…goals desires…a temper…she could be very easily mistaken for an ordinary miss. But really what sets her apart? what makes her different from all the rest…?

Is it her family name? Her job?…a pretty face or nice round bossom?…Her car?…or is it that she has seen more cities and sights than the Pope?…well, he might admit these are quite interesting aspects to her…but its not quite why!!

So why then???

…see, family and the respect thereof has taught her to be cultured…to be rooted and understand priorities in this life, given her a deep appreciation and affinity for one of her own, does that make her more appealing to him…? I figure he’d be a darn fool to pass it off.

Her job, well, why bother if she comes from a place of means? She might as well slouch and wait to be swept away by a suitor of means, but no, she wants it; independence…to have a mind of her own and make a path of her own, a deep ingrained appreciation for hard work and the fruits thereof. Does this put her in better place to understand his aspirations, and make her a better partner in the demanding task that is building a home?…Does this point to her inate ability to take on the responsibility of bearing and raising a family, and having her back against his when his ability to go it alone is temporarily impaired?…well, maybe, would he be a fool to pass this off?…Almost definitely.

A pretty face? Does he seek a trophy to show as though an accolade for his ‘game’?…or does he see a beautiful woman, one that he would love to share a life with?…a beautiful smile to wake to and a warm image to sleep to, even when the day was as dark as the night that engulfs him. A round bosom to peddle in a bar?, or woman with a fullness to celebrate?…a special quality he might be proud to see passed on to the daughter, he dreams, shall be suited by Princes…and Knights…shall he let this pass as a vanity…or embrace it in its fullness?

Oh, darn, she has more stamps in her passport than the miles he has travelled outside his city…shall he despair and wail at incompatibility…or shall he embrace the vast knowledge…the tales and pleasures from lands far away…and the dream to share in these explorations, to kiss her at a forgotten castle in Belfast or canoe in her warm embrace accross the Ardeche river?…shall he sit and despair for the hoards that she encounters…taller of thicker frame….or shall he wait gleefully to share in her tales…and laugh at her goofy pictures…?

She exceeds his financial post…shall he bereave himself and wail and curse providence for leaving him thus impoverished?…shall he curse his post and pretend he were at another? or shall he applaud her success, and from it seek inspiration to further his own post, a post further than most…a post in which he delights…a place that makes him happy…a vantage from which even the furthest of dreams seems attainable, shall he curse this or bless his fortunes for the grace of providence, for she seeks not to lessen it, but further it…shall he wail from insecurity and call her names or shall he spawn joy from her accomplishment and the compliment that is her consideration of his post not by its state but its view…its vantage?

But she is his senior, she has walked more paces on this rugged earth…albeit she has learned, seen and felt more. To this he shrugs… to the notion that this might be a blackball he scowls…shall he be bound to mediocrity because of social rant…or shall she be doomed to such tempest as is borne of this adherence…why? shall he let such majesty waltz by for such folly?…how shall he be judged by providence that has turned tides for this fortune? to what wisdom shall he perch such a defence…?

Does she walk this path of desire with him, or is he bent on self deception to attain but a folly? In this life and the next, a man shall be judged by his effort, not to woe, but to provide…to provide her with the suitor she desires and to be the best man he can be to attain her respect and win her affections, is this a fools errand? At worst an ambitious man’s quest to settle for nothing but the best…

What makes her special she asks, for she perceives but the simplicity she wakes to, the life she calls hers, not so much from modesty as from familiarity…what makes her special? She seeks to understand, what is it? she worries, worries that he may be lost in the buzz of a misperception she is all too familiar with, a misperception that she has seen cripple and wrinkle spaces between suitors before. What? she ponders, ponders his motive;

What? he says, he barely knows her, but he knows this; she is comfortable…her presence a delight…a reason to walk through a rough day…even in this place where he has only but shared in half her embrace, he feels comfortable…a certain comfort that is almost disturbing to share with but a stranger; a stranger, only a few encounters but he seazes to percieve her thus, but rather a friend with whom he can share the woes of his day…one to whose discourse he endears an ear…to whose worries he feels the need to ease and for her safety he worries…all this fully aware that he bears no such right or disposition and ever so less does she.

What makes her special? Genuine, he wonders, is she? or is he duped as is the plight of many a man, all the same he chooses to let himself believe…to this self assurance even when sensibility seems to call for caution…what drives this he wonders…is she that special?? He worries that his perception might be coloured with desire and judgement clouded by pursuit…but in her sophistication he takes solace, her simplicity, delight, and the rarity of one such as her he finds plausible justification for this insanity…

A good woman, is indeed plenty of things, flawed and even simple with not much as brass to her name, or coin to her hem, but in this life and then next she remains a gem…one a real man shall pursue with neither fright nor shame…for in her bosom lays the splendour of a stallions mane and the envy of men.

A good woman is indeed plenty of things, and to the man that dares pursue…to he that delights in the warmth of her breast, lays in wait a heave in his breast, that knows not the swell of purse or the smell of wine and feast…nor the might of a beast…

Dedicated to the good women out there…and the real men that are willing to make them happy!

-Tzar Kato

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…wrought of the self…

Just rummaging through my old facebook notes and i found this…thought i would share it here…seemed fit to…

awake…yes, another day…one day closer to a point in life where all is not well…a point of judgement…a dreaded point…but one that is racing toward him nonetheless…

lost…yes, just another soul…one bellied by griefs, fears and weighed down by circumstances…a point of conflict…a dreaded conflict…yes, a dreaded conflict…one with the self and all values inherent to the self, at crossroads with the instict to survive…but a survival that would lead to conciental disregard…

sad…yes just another onother one of many…an emotion, or is it a state?…one dictated by circumstance brought about by one’s self…at this point of conflict…a dreaded point where one might find solace in escape or resignation…but an escape from what???…resigation, maybe…but at what cost…

weary…yes, just another worn will…one lost in its  despair…one marooned in its own perception…one that in its conception can not even master itself to the task…but what task??…a task that in itself is colored by hope…and a touch of faith??…a task…or a wish to which it aspires?…hmmm…

procrastiation…yes, just another excuse…one in which he finds solace…a pen to which one leans to defer the thoughts that plague the mind…or is it the conscience…thoughts lost in fear…and the will of another…another weary soul…

But to what end???…all these words…what purpose lies in their perception, or that to which they refer…to what end are these realisations…to what end does this introspect serve him…to what damn end?!!

 

inspiration…yes, to that end…to a core understanding that for all these perceptions, a clearer vision is formed…one  to whose oblivion can stiffle the will…yes, to that end…to the core understanding that this is but a defining moment…one from which new perceptions of self are formed…and a new found understanding of limits is defined…yes, to that end…and end that then validates the perceptions…and the conflict…as a necessessity for development…a better reason to wake…

….yes, to wake…to wake to the innert will…to muster self…to aspire…to be great…to wake to the understanding that deifinition of self lies not in perception if such realities as weigh the soul and incapacitate the will…but in mustering the will to create new circumstances…circumstances in which the self can revel…one in which the realisations are of splendour and grandeuer…yes, a realisation that there must be more and a refusal to be stiffled by circumstance…no matter how insumountable they may seem…for they only seem!!!

-Tzar Kato

…Why i love older women…

First off, i think i should make it known that i love women (generally speaking), i have loved them since i can remember and i have barely been away from them…they fuel life…i can barely imagine what life would be without them and this is not a function of impendinment on the part of my imagination…rather of the importance and reverence i attach to their presence and purpose in life.

The Genesis…
In my early years (and believe me when i say early) i was always attracted to beauty…and the enigma of that which seemed far off…the challenge! As far back as i can trace, i always had a woman i looked up to…a crush on one…or a memory of one, but it was always the impossible…the one that was out of reach…that one…the most sophisticated one.

...so i was supposed to make it back from here....

It all started when i met my sister’s friend…very beautiful girl, taller than i was(that’s not too hard to fathom as i was about 2 inches high…really!) and of a larger frame…totally ‘out of my league’! She already knew about perfume…talked to me like no other girl had…and she thought i was ‘cute’…she even called me her boyfriend looking back, it was clearly a case of ‘my friends cute little baby brother’…but then, it was real…i was awakened. i went back to play and suddenly all the girls looked like me…soiled…playing pointless games…totally unaware of  scent … curvaceous beauty….grace, they were a bunch of little people in dirty dresses,

...to here...REALLY??!!

surely, i thought, this was not my place, it was back in my sister’s room with ‘my girlfriend’. This might have been the genesis, pretty soon i barely had time for the ‘little’ girls…i was too caught up in the bizzaz of this immaculate girl…the girl that smelled like a aflower…talked so well…mostly about things i wasnt sure i understood…dressed amazingly…this went on for a long time…and during this time i morphed. I met more like her and the difference with my playmates only got clearer, the fact they liked me was only aggrevating the situation.

…then i morphed…

Soon, i was the little kid in third grade that knew how to hold a conversation with an eigth grade girl…i knew what to talk about…how to identify…the more these associations grew the more unbearable the idea of dating my classmates became, this was not helped very much by the fact that i scored points with my peers for being seen around with older girls…soon even the older boys wanted to be friends…i mean, i was fast becoming a stud!!! Any older girls i met liked me almost instantly…if they dint, i would help them along that path…soon i was being called ‘boyfriend’ by an entire class…that was 3 classes beyond my own….my name…as i had forced onto the list during baptism was Romeo!!(yes really!!) See, in retrospect this was harmless play on their part…these older girls liked to talk to the little cute kid from across the block, i was sort of their little plaything(almost typed playboy)..not in a bad abusive way (how i wished!!..lol!) but in a nice cuddly way…and the fact that i liked it and spent all the spare time i could master around them only spurred them on. The result of this was that, as it always is, i had taken on an attraction for the girls my age…to them i was that boy that they would’ve given anything to be around…i talked older…cared alot more about hygiene and what i was wearing…(how much smaller i was din’t seem to matter) the problem here, as i continued on this path, was that they were becoming, for lack of better phrasing…”too easy”. The younger girls liked me, and i dint have to try much…they were imature and i’d have them laughing with the slightest of gestures…i’ll admit the attention was/is great, but it dint change the lack of thrill…it was still boring,most of them always came off as immature…petty…and always seemed to be emotional about the darndest of things(atleast as i saw it). What part i dint find boring was either irritating..or just bearable…It was a whole different ball game with the other girls…they were a challenge…to make them laugh…to talk to them…it always called for more …something that i found amazing in the least…

..my ultimate dicovery…why???…

...Nick has a very clear idea of what i'm saying...lol!

...Nick has a very clear idea of what i'm saying...lol!

Soon, i was dating and having relationships, whenever i went down this road with my peers or younger girls, it always seemed shallow…easy…most of the time she was predictable…sometimes the percieved immaturity would feel like being dragged through mud literally…i dint like it. This is when i discovered, that it was all about older girls for me, they were more stable, always kept me on my toes…and somehow always seemed to have their esteem issues under controll.

This brings me to the gist of this article, i have always loved older women…not greying mothers with kids my age, but older girls…i mean, i have some really amazing agemates(some i have dated)…even younger girls…but for some reason it always gets old…no matter how cool they seem and or start out…they always seem to re-gress…and have what i like to call ‘baby moments’. Here is why i cannot seem to get past my desire for older women; (and i am not talking about mother figures, or women looking for “mama’s-boys” to take care of, that cross generation stuff is sick…its social taboo for a good reason, but hey that is MHO)
First off, older women are simply intriguiging…especially to younger men, they are stable, emotionally and most of the time have great self esteem (i’m speaking from personal experience here), they tend to have this “been there done that” attribute that is so refreshing…it spawns a sort of drama free, mature relation that i find fulfilling. Most older women i have met are very independent (this excludes those 28 16yr olds..i mean she is 28…but has a 16yr old mental piece…), these ladies have a sort of “i’m good…i can take care of myself”…this is usually with good reason usually they are advanced in their careers and have attained a level of independece from their folks…and most of society i do find plenty of girls my age in this bracket but, the touch of maturity added with experience beats them out for me.The point here is not to seek to date a wealthier woman in the name of financial stability but rather to find someone that is good all by themselves…some one that doesnt need you to survive…Ne-yo put it well in that Ms Independent song…”the kind of woman that want’s you but doesnt need you…there is something about her!” There is also a sort of appeal possed by the opposite of the category mentioned above…the 16 28yr olds (sometimes she is just about 20 but, talk to her and you’ll be convinced she is 25 or so) these ladies are amazing too…but unfortunately in my experience are also prone to “baby moments”…just when you are beginning to get comfortable..!!

Spending, as much time around beauty as i have…you tend to develop a desire for more…not just that pretty smile, but a lingering self assured laugh…not just glamour…but deep ingrained class…most of these attributes in my experience i have come to find almost default for older beautiful women than in their younger counterparts. These kind of women take basic simplicity and add a sense of fragility that they somehow manage to blend with a deep inner comfort with who they are and a very clear understanding of what it is they want from life or at the very least understand that which they don’t want, far from the self discovering young woman with a sense of wonder at her very desires!

I acknowledge that such traits as intelligence and knowledge, sexual or otherwise are generally acquired by choice, but i have come to learn that older women posses these traits in far superior quantities and quality compared to the younger ones… i do not mean to discredit young intellingent girls and ladies…for i know plenty of those, but its that refinement that tends to come with the older women that makes a difference for me, i say this for the same reason some men steer clear of virgins at the percieved tediousness of ‘teaching’..no matter the IQ of the student!! Besides, they dont suffer from the plight of that indecisiveness that characterises youger women and such silly trivialities as pesky mind games plus that uncanny ability to express themselves and their desires openly…even outside of factors such as how well they know you or who you are…

An especially intersting attribute to these women that makes them so appealing is that line that has been drawn by society over the decades, that men should seek younger women and vise versa. For me, this rebellion makes it all worthwhile, to seek to turn norm on its head…and the challenge involved in doing so, truth be told, older women are not the easiest to approach i mean, given a beautiful young well clad even sophisticated looking girl at the counter and an equally beautifull older woman with a dismisive smile on her face…most men will opt for the younger girl…older women are seen to be somewhat out of reach…a tad too sophisticated and harder to please…see that there gets me. For men with no esteem issues, such a woman posses a challenge, a real reason to approach and an amazing satisfaction in the very tiniest of victorious advances.

So ultimately, from that first crush on my older sister’s friend…i am yet to find a reason to justify walking back to my soiled little friends and forgeting that scent…i still dont see one…and believe me, i do know a fair amount of amazing  ladies my age or even slightly younger…there is just something about the ones that are slightly older that just sums it all up for me…
So yes, maybe i ‘have issues’ and maybe there are really great young girls out there that i am yet to meet (something i believe quite strongly), maybe i will get swept off my feet by someone a couple of years younger..but untill then, i’ll be winking at the seemingly uninterested beautifull lady in the corner that looks up occasionally over the rim of her fancy spects…i take comfort in knowing that some of the greats in history have walked this path…even Shakespear had a clean 8yr difference between him and Anne Hathaway…so hey..where is the harm…right???

Please share an opinion…this seems to be one of those articles with no clever ending and or meaning…just a rant by a man totally justifying digging older chics..tihihihi….and you get to let him know what you think about it…or your side of the coin…

Tzar Kato

(Un)conscionable

(Un)conscionable.

…the conscience…another variable…

Hello reader, i hope you are fairing better than most…i’m in a wierd place(in my head) to say the least but there is something about this thing we call the call the conscience that i would like to share with you…hey you might even pick a nugget or two of inspiration to be a tad more peacefull after reading through this…maybe i have always known this, maybe i just blocked the realisation thus far…but all the same…it hit me recently…

….i was having a conversation recently with a very close friend of mine…one i think i should i share with youor atleast the gist of it (am talking about the conversation.. 😀 ).

Well, sometimes we(humans) find ourselves in very difficult circumstances, circumstances that offer very few possible ways out…sometimes these ways seem at odds with our conscience…or at least at first. For some reason, if we stay in the said circumstances for long enough…within ourselves we start to rationalize the solutions, we begin to “look at the bright side”…and begin to believe the formerly unacceptable ‘solutions’are rather “not so bad after all”. Am not sure you have been to such ‘places’ in your life but if you have, you might understand first hand what am talking about.
When we were having this conversation it occured to me that, although i live my life by a few principles (dont we all?!)…one of the most important bieng; i won’t do something or say something if it will put my self and my conscience at odds…i consider peace with my conscience with high regard…a sort of standard with which to determine and or establish right from wrong in a society where the two are more variable with each coming day. the general assumption that many people make, like i did, is to think that our conscience -for those that are ruled by it- is stable…a sort of almanac or oracle that has on it imprinted the truth and way by which the path of  life shall be established…well, it could be all the above…and maybe more, but, it does change…the standards of the conscience are almost always established by the concerns of the self, you probably dont agree,i dint at first, but humour me…

When an individual is placed in a dark place(literaly) not exactly pitch black (because in the path of life that can only be likened to death)….but rather what we can call darkness (as in a room with the light turned off), if this individual assuming normal sight, is left in there, at first, it will be dark and the said individual will not be able to distinguish matter from space…or not be able to see a thing…but keep them in the dark for long enough and something interesting happens…the person will start to ‘see’…the individual will start to make out forms and if they can stay in there longer and they can clearly distinguish even the chair from the table…and even move  around with relative ease…now enter a small ray of light from a nail hole…and it can almost illuminate the entire room…when the person is re-exposed to light (what was normal before) it is much brighter than normal, infact its very blinding…the said individual sort of evolves to pick the smallest light to light his/her darkness.

Not with standing the lesson that lies in the above experiment for us all as humans about how we react to hard times it turns out that the eyes “of the flesh” have alot in common with the conscience or “the eyes of the soul”…in fact it sort of explains the allusion in the quoted text…they both adjust to circumstance!!

As i realised, the conscience, if exposed to ‘darkness’ for a time long enough for its very principles to be challenged as the perception of the eyes is challenged in the dark room, something interesting happens….the standards have a shift…sometimes a major one…what formerly seemed imperceptible and unnacceptable seems to gel with reality and take on a shine of practicality…a shine that sort of gives it a glossy acceptability and rationale that with time even prods the self with a sense or urgency…or to say it differently the person begins to wonder why in the heavens they did not do this or that earlier…infact they can’t even explain it to themselves why they were so ‘uptight this whole time’…i mean what could possibly be wrong about this?!’

In my own experience, life is pretty messed up living on the other side of my conscience…its a feat i have failed to pull off, but there seems to be a rather interesting twist to this, the conscience and its principles are not that static, as it turns out, and if you are in a dark place long enough, and the options marked ‘exit’ are not so man the conscience will and usually find a way to make one or even a few of the options perfectly ok…or in other words…your conscience allows you to live with yourself comfortably after choosing what may have been, prior to the ‘darkness” rather ‘off the table’ or at odds with your personal standards of morality and or ideaology (or whatever rationale you live by).

I am not trying to, by means of this article justify the actions of most perverts, thieves and or murderers….or that sort of thing, although in watching some testimonies and life parodies of convicts, i have come to draw a parallel with what i’m talking about here. Maybe this has happened to you, maybe its yet to, but all in all sometimes your conscience will let you go places you would never consider…actually more often than not, you will be suprised at how far this can stretch. Like i like to say…”if someone spends too long in a dark place, their perception of brightness can be quite dramatically altered”…

Maybe this is why we wonder if some people even have a conscience…or wonder how ‘he can live with himself’…maybe that person has some sort of ratioanalle offered by his conscience…maybe just maybe…if you dont judge her for leaving him or marrying her…or even ‘going against her very nature’…maybe just maybe…we should stop and think are they at peace with their conscience?…When was the last time you were at peace with yours…are you still making excuses about one thing or the other….are you still pretending not to see that door marked ‘exit’ because you  worry you might not be able to live with yourself if you use it…really?…is that true??…is that really what that ‘little voice’ is saying…that you’ll be damned to a self loathing existance…are you sure…is that dark room better than the brightness behind that door…or are you just scared of that initial pain in your eyes when the light comes streaming in…are you getting too comfortable in darkness…or do you still have it in you to walk back into the light??…its all up to you…one way or the other…if you search your self well…there is a respose one that your self has been trying to deliver to you urgently…all you have to do is let it…search it…

Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), this atricle like many others i have written or will write ends in a rather socratic manner…i do not offer advice here…i do not even pretend to offer expert analysis…i’m just a guy that happened to have a conversation on an abstract subject whose realisations i felt it necessary to share…if you are still looking for the point of this, go back to begining, i think you might have missed it…maybe there is none…or maybe thats the point in itself…you decide…just make sure when you leave wherever it is you are reading this from, you leave with a clean conscience…make that call…call that bluff if you have to…just be at peace…its more blissfull than its made out to be in the media…lol!

In the words of Bob Marley…emancipate yourself from mental slavery…may you be at peace with yourself…always!!

Tzar.

…Change your View…

…he wakes, in a world full of turmoil, looks out his window, and there he sees a child…crying or groaning from the gnawing in her belly…suddenly a woman shrieks out at her…”shut the hell up u little rascal”…mad the woman seems, a weary look on her face…a mass of what seems like dirty fur laying in a knotted heap on her head…shrieking at a little child?…of what crime is she guilty?…of crying?…of feeling the gnawing in her belly?, or is that of being the lesser of the two?, or maybe of being born??, the child turns weakly to this mad woman, with a little weary tear…running down her cheek…as if to plead for the right to groan from the pain she feels, only to be met with a harsh glance, but is this harshness to be felt at her?…or is it even in passing a fleeting thought in the mind of this woman?…he realizes then, that it really is not, its not that she is at fault…but that she has personified the pain…pain at which her mother, maybe even out of love is revolted by, but why, why direct it to one as innocent?, he wonders, at this moment, the little girl breaks into a wail, one evoked by the glance from her mother…or is it an intensified gnaw from within her very self…barely distinguishable…alas! a man, is spat from the bowls of the little house from whence the woman emerged…doors burst open…he stares at the child almost blankly but only for a moment, as if in a trance…one in which even the observer is engulfed…at a momments notice he shrieks in the direction of the woman…”shut this darn child of yours up or i will gag it!!”…a biref pause, as if to plead repentence for his diction…but brief the pause is indeed, as the retort is swift…”if you had come home with food last night, she would not be so hungry!!”…as if to justify the little groans that seem to grow louder by the moment…he curses…even at providence…and marches off to his cycle, starts the motor…and rides off to the distance, up in his window, he wonders at the madness, at the ideologies of right and wrong, but before he has the time to think, he is startled by the clanking of the pan the woman has hurled to the ground…everything is silent now…even he groaning…she curses the heavens…and is swallowed up behind the doors from which the man had been spat…suddenly, the little girl, breaks into an even louder uncontrollable shrieking shudder…a heart wrenching  cry, one that bears a profound discomfort in his very heart…but why, he wonders…why all this hostility…why all the tears…why all the pain…was he so unfortunate to witness such a scene, or was the child the bearer of all un imaginable pain, did she even understand what had happened or was she too consumed in the gnawing she felt, should she have been quiet?…was the woman an unfeeling hag that dared shriek at a fragile little innocent being?, or was she too lost in her own pain…was it that she could not bear the childs shrieks for they were her own…or a reminder of how powerless she was?…why did she have anger in her eyes, yet have teary eyes welling with love and understanding for the little one…was it why she yelled back at the man in her defense?…This man…callous bastard or bereaved soul…one more disturbed by the cries of the little one as a measure of inadequacy, or just a drunk fart? did any of these questions matter?…was the mother going to emerge with a miraculous fruit to soothe the pain of the little one…or was she to bear the gnawing longer…was the man about to return with a loaf of bread, or was he gone forever?..puzzled…and weighed down by these questions he closes the window…and turns to the mirror, and wonders at the reflection…is it any different from the sight that he just witnessed? On the night stand,…a notice of  eviction…he too feels a gnawing deep within…from the notice…or is it from the emptiness in the room…a sense  of lack engulfs even he, and suddenly, he understands the man…only he knows there is not motor bike to jump on…another glance at the notice…then a feeble stare at the mirror, turning he gazes at the latched window…and he  can feel the child’s wail well up from inside him…sternly bitter at his own reflection, was this the plight of the woman?

Inside he wonders, is he the man…but why does he feel like that child…why does he understand the woman’s tear, might he shriek and scream like they all did…he glances back at the notice, then back to the mirror and he knows he wants to…who is to blame, fate a harsh judge?…destiny?, the goevernment?…politics…maybe change…or is it the lack of it…but to what end he wonders…change it all, as it has been changed

"Change your view..."

before…and he might still be  looking out another window at different people…but the same pain…the same untamed wailing…why all this suffering he wonders at Providence…why would the heavens be so unfair…why, is it so hard for the child to laugh…for the man to kiss his lady before he leaves…for that notice to be a cheque…or at least for the pain to be turned into laughter???…WHY??, WHO IS TO BLAME???….but maybe, just maybe, he asks the wrong questions, maybe, he realises, it does not matter who said what or who did what…maybe just maybe, the power really lies within…and the right  question is HOW???…

HOW?? he wonders, how can he make it all better…how can he make it his reality…how can he laugh…how can he change the view outside his window, how can he stop the searing in his heart…HOW??, he wonders… Suddenly he jolts up,…he remebers, last night a special friend dropped a treat, one he was too heavy hearted to  indulge…a fine spread of 3 courses, quickly he darts to the fridge, and viola, a 2 dishes of wonderment, and a  lovely couple of muffins to go with them, how could he have missed this last night, he wonders, it might have been the fatigue, suddenly he remembers the wailing child…warms the dishes quickly and darts across the street.

From the door emerges the woman he saw earlier her eyes swell from crying, he politely hands her a dish and asks to hand a muffin to the child, who is eargerly staring at it. Quickly he explains to the woman how he wanted to share the food, and the yielding to her daughter’s gaze she takes it, and suddenly he could see the cloud lift off her face he kneels, takes the child’s hand and places a muffin in it, she smiles warmly and laughs shyly…the gnawing is all but forgotten the shrieks lost in the brightness of her smile…he looks up at her mother and even she cant conceal the joy, her tears long dried…a few pleasantries are exchanged and the pair disappear behind the doors, beaming with anticipation of thier coming satisfaction. Back in his room, he feels, pleased…a deep joy, suddenly, the mist of fear and displeasure is faded…he looks at the notice again, and right there beside it, is a business card of a client he had forgotten to call yesterday,  frantically he punches the digits into the phone, a few moments elapse, a voice on the other end, fondly greets him

“Hey, you called just in time…the proposed project budget was approved, we have a meeting tomorrow with accounts to discuss payment….”

….his eyes light up…as he lowers the phone from his ear, he looks back at the reflection in the mirror…he cannot believe its majesty…suddely he is beeming with profound joy, suddely the notice is but a piece of paper on his night stand, the air in the room is getting a little heavy, he swings the window open…and right there, he sees the little girl running around laughing heartily…she looks up at him, raises 2 thumbs up, laughs again and waves at him, as though in a perfect orchestra, the doors open and the woman emerges, still rugged but this time smilling, she picks up her daughter in her arms and they laugh heartily…suddenly the breeze is wonderful, the birds are chirping and the sky is clear…HOW, he wonders…how could it be, that just a while ago the world seemed dark and gloomy, how??…he smiles at the sky and raises the ‘V’ sign as though to aplaud or to thank a watching Divinity…

Maybe, in our lives we are stuck looking out the window to a crying baby, or starring at a pathetic reflection of our selves it the mirror, or looking at a bill or a notice or missing that special somebody, feeling like shrieking at someone, or wailing…or hurling something, maybe even taking off…wondering WHY??? Blaming the percentages on the 9 O’clock news, the government, politicians, ourselves, fate…or every one…hell, the darn universe for being unfair…and wondering WHY us….or WHY ME??…maybe you are fed up…angry…sad…maybe you think its as bad as it can possibly get…you are wondering why is it so hard to laugh, why in the hell does it have to be so freaking unfair…WHY???????  Maybe, just maybe we ask the wrong questions, maybe we should realise it does not matter who said what or who did what.

..maybe just maybe, the power really lies within us, within YOU…and the right question is HOW???…

HOW?? you wonder, how can you make it all better…how can you make it YOUR reality…how can YOU laugh…how can you  change the view outside YOUR window, how can YOU stop the searing in YOUR heart…HOW??

It might be a hug, a phone call you need to make, a visit you need to pay, to fix someone a nice meal, to tell some
body you love them, to come clean…maybe harder…there is always an answer, you just have to ask the right
question, find that answer and go out there and change your view, Providence is smiling upon you.

Tzar Kato

Life….the Series…

Hello reader, its been what seems like ages since i last had discourse between my fingers and my keyboard…to the
effect of delivering you another one of these but, finally i’m loving the clank clank i’m hearing…

Well, like most of the time this article is mostly about something i have experienced and a realisation i had recently
that i feel i should share with you, so here goes;

Most of my life i was that kid that tried to generally be better than my peers (whether this was achieved or not is really debatable…i like to think..sometimes), i loved the ladies, so clearly the self improvement has always been more than called for, any way…i usually looked to the more eloquent sources, i.e. books, and TV. The result of this has always been a semblance( i’m told) between the way i live and cable…to put it
mildly…this is not really so much my deduction as it is the opinion of those that have shared in my life, it in fact came to my recollection recently, after meeting an old acquinatance…in her words, “i see you still live your life like a movie!”…

Turns out many of the people around me still say the same thing…so i figure there must be some truth to it, but i have come to the realisation that, this sort of assumation of character and mannerisms is one of the best choices i ever made as a kid, and maybe i think a couple of people should do the same. Now dont get me wrong, i dont mean go get yourself a fake alias and persona and pretend you are someone else…please dont do that, the key i have come to learn is in the authenticity…!!! Seriously, maybe, just maybe, its not so bad to live a freaking movie…i mean come on, its even supposed to be bizzaz cliche to say stuff like, “my life is a movie”…hell i can name a few songs that go in that direction.

What’s my point here?….Well, here is the way i see it…

Life is pretty much all you chose for it to be…its ceiling is where you see it…and yes your floor is where you choose it to be…however unsettling that may be…i mean only as far as you go can you reach and in Henry Ford‘s words “whether you think you are right or wrong, either way you are correct”….point here is that old cliche…LIFE IS WHAT WHAT YOU MAKE IT! so yeah, my life is a movie…actually a freaking series…here is how it works..

I’m definately not the script writer…i mean come on…even if i was like that Boston Legal fella (that dude wrote the entire freaking five seasons i’ve seen…i mean all the characters…and cases…c’mon…i would consider myself genius even just coming up with the first Danny case…now Allan…whole other story!!), i still wouldn’t be good enough to write this script…so am not taking any credit there….

Also i definately cannot be the Producer or part of of the team that decides on the cast and any of that…that too from what i’ve seen in the last few seasons is definately not me…i’d need some insane infinite power and probably resources to be that guy…and even then…come on…the CAST!!!…jeez…the line up in this series is way too amazing don’t get me wrong i’d love to take some credit, but that’d best be left for later…

This serie, that i call life and share with a wonderfull cast cannot be my own creation…but its sure is up to me to bring all the pieces together…to make sure the cast gells, to deliver great material so the serie can score ratings and an audience, that way, it doesnt get cancelled…Whether i like it or not…I am the freaking Director here (some of you are starting to mumble curses at blasphemy blah blah…but come on, why are you afraid of your role…well, for pete’s sake…humour me for a minute) …i run the freaking show…i decide when to say cut…and definately run the character of the protagonist…alot like Stallone in that tried comeback…The Invincibles.. i think thats what its called- yes, that one where he gets thrown around by Steve Austin…- and yes i am proud to live in this daze of a serie…the enigma that is to some an amazing experience and to some a passable one…an experience all the same….

When the guys with the budget have issues or the casting fellas have a hard time getting amazing stars to feature in the show…its mostly my fault because i’m making lousy episodes…or at least not good enough to catch the attention and albeit interest of more established stars…or to make more sales and raise the funding options…its mostly “my bad”…

This brings me to the point of all this;

I discovered that the only way i can make this serie -you call life- great…the only way i can make you, out there  reading this article, want to go out there and get a copy…or have it distributed to your local store, is simple, direct an amazing picture…draw an amazing cast…which will draw great sponsors…and sales which means only more and more resources for the following episodes and more and more ratings to guarantee more and more seasons…and the cycle would continue…all i have to do is make a great couple of episodes…
Dont just sit there in your chair hoping that great girl (or guy) will reply your text…dont just sit there and wait for  that amazing job or company idea [or whatever you are laying around hoping for] to come running and give you a hug…then furnish you with that fancy porche cayenne so you can ride off into the sunset with a duffle bag of cash in the backseat and the girl(or guy) mentioned above stroking your hair, and probably a Rick Ross jam pounding the speakers proclaiming how “all you do is win”…

You have a job to direct!…a job you have to do well, and play the protagonist well enough to have jonny depp and  Eva longoria playing the support…hell, whoever the bejezuz you want…the way i see it, if you make yourlife as  amazing as it can possibly be, that girl(or guy) will walk up to you and teach you thing or two about the French idea of intimacy…or is it greeting?! (am sure you get the point)…If you walk around with a 2 pence character, dont be blaming the mail delivery system when those letters are brought back marked “return to sender”…or cursing technology because your email dint get replied or someone wont take your calls…go make that character great…and Jolie will call trying to co-star in there…ask Brad…i heard they even decided to play house…i think its been a few years now!!!

Like i said…dont go out there and create silly plastic characters with no depth and who are just ingeniune. We shall see that and believe me, even the cast you have now will disipate… The key is in YOU…you are great (already, you just have to embrace it)…you can be charming… you have vigour…you can make her smile…and darn sure get him to be your friend…just be you…THE BEST YOU!, nothing less…

i’m far from perfect, darn sure am not the best ME either…clearly i’d be typing this from a patio somewhere else am not even close to the Wealth i’m destined to have…but, am working at it, i try to speak well, to make friends, and to help others….probably the reason am sitting down to type this…and most importantly…to be worth the  the attention and cast that i want to see in this amazing serie i call life…i want those red carpet moments… and that lovely wife…i want it all…and probably a little more…but first i have to earn it…to be that guy  that gets the girl…neither you or i, can get any where close to the things we want to be in this life unless we  are willing to pay the price and put in the time and work…so come on….get off your ass…and go shoot that scene…or say “cut” where you have to….you are the director…the greatness of the movie depends on your decisions and  most importantly what you believe…whether you think your life is great and worth the greatest cast you can imagine or whether you think its a 2 bit existence that cannot even attract a 2 pound investment……whether you think you are amzing and that all you put your hands on turns into gold and that you are the greatest gift to mankind….or you think you are a lousy fellow with no worthwhile input to other’s lives….

Whether you think you are destined for greatness or your are just another name or just another one of a long list of
failures in your bloodline…

Whether you think you can or you are sure you cannot for one lousy reason or the other….

EITHER WAY YOU ARE CORRECT!!!!

So come on, if you think you can and you should…all you gotta do is “take the first step in faith, you dont have  to see the whole staircase…just take the first step”…and BELIEVE…actually dont belive…FREAKING kNOW…like  you know that you are going to exhale and inhale in the next couple of seconds…like you know that you are reading this article…like you know the rest of the road will unfold even when your lights are dim…KNOW, that you are that person…that guy or girl that gets stuff done…the GREAT PERSON YOU REALLY ARE!!!
once you know that you know,that you know…go out there and let every one else know…show them, its the best way…dont explain, dont preach…just fraking show them…make that next episode the best you ever made…call that client…say hello to that amazing person next to you… help that friend up…prod for that smile…have that laugh…say cut if the shoot is right…take 2 if it dint feel perfect…hell, shoot an extra scene….let those that you should, know that you love them…end that sucker friendship.
YOU are the Director…call the freaking shots…no one else will!

Happy Directing my friend…and may this episode be the best ever…hell, go get that tux…you’ll need it for the red carpet moments…dont forget…dont just believe me…KNOW for yourself…KNOW it for a fact!

(could end this with “my 2 cents” but it feels in appropriate so…)

my 2 freaking Gold blocks!!!!

Tzar Kato

How to Get More Traffic

How to Get More Traffic.

…blueprints to life…

Hello reader,

have you ever wondered to yourself, “what the hell is more important than money(besides family for some)…i mean really!!”…well, many times i’ve wondered so…and honestly, there are very few things in life to whose creation or development i devote more care and character than money…and in my experience the most important of these, as i’ve come to learn(and are reminded of everyday), are what i like to call the blue prints to life itself…yes, the map to the hidden pleasures and treasures in life…even the chests of gold (or rather accounts of dollars!!)…FRIENDS!!!! Yes, FRIENDS.

Being a large believer in singular effort and a self sufficient existance, it comes as peculiar that i would come to such a conclusion…peculiar to say the least. But as it appears, every time i take a good honest look at my life….my successes, failures…and all other extremities i have lived through and live through today, i can trace each back to a friend…sometimes an acquaintance but a person in my life all the same…and most of the time one held in high regard.

My first girlfriend, well, turns out i was introduced to her by my best friend’s girlfriend…my first love…a friend…my high school crush…a friend now…my first boss, introduced by a friend….first job….first hustle…the one i shared it with….first company…biggest dream…biggest prank…wildest party…craziest moments…all those things in my past. My present even more so, and my future…freakishly more so!!! It seems like all the things that matter to me, those that i have…and those that i want to have and/or be, are linked in one way or another to a friend(typing this inclusive!!…lol!), i mean of course family comes first and are the sole root of almost all things good and bad…but, the friends are the blueprints…and the experiences we share with them come together into what we call life…real life….

My friendships seem to mark the exodus of life…all things great about it…all profound lessons…and all self actualisation…hell, even self perception. Many times we take them for granted, sometimes we hurt them…and sometimes they do the same to us…some are pure and last for longer than we ever hoped they would, some turn on us and take us to places we never dreamed of…hideous or otherwise…some we love, and some we loath…is there a true difinition for “friend”?…not in my opinion…the closest i’ve come is, those that i share my life with…voluntarily and sometimes involuntarily…some i prefer not to remember…but some i pray never to forget…others i couldn’t, even if i tried!! My inspiration for typing this note is a true friend, the kind that really cares what you think, the kind you are not shy to talk to about yo fears, the kind you need not be bothered about what they think about yo history…the kind you love…in my life, these are few, but that only serves to make them more precious…like a gem, many times i make the mistake of not letting them know how i feel about them and how much i appreciate the things they do for  me…or those they let me do for them…the moments we share…sometimes i hurt them…and sometimes i take them for granted. But they always know that i mean no harm…if i could, i’d give them a pedestal from which they could watch the spring of all life…shelter them from the cold wintery dawns and shield them from scorching summer rays…yes i would do all that for my friends…and more…for what they give me, i can not show enough gratitude and love…am only what i am today because of them…and aspire to be what i should be because they have made it possible for me not just to dream….but to build my dreams…thank you my dears…THANK YOU….you are amazing, my blueprints to life…my compass as i sail to my destiny…and for you i will brave the stormy nights, if only for the thought of sharing the warm summer afternoons with pinacoladas on the beach when i reach my destiny…if only for that my dear friends…i love you!…

Maybe you think your life is just great without friends, and yo thinking “who needs those backstabbing suckers!!”…well, my dear, i promise, YOU do. If i had lived without them, i’d be sad, desolate and poor…on all fronts…and so would you…think about it…now get off yo high horse and go make a friend…make someone smile and bless someone with a little love, share something, trust someone…listen to someone, even when you have your own troubles, i tell you the greatest things in life are born of the most trivial of acts..and the most petty of relations…besides whats the worst that can happen, put yourself aside for a minute and genuinely care for someone….you’ll be amazed at the results…

GO my friend, and meet the blue prints to you life, as i continue to meet and understand mine….make a friend…celebrate an old one…and make that call to that long lost one…reach out, and life will reach her hands out and embrace you too….

Tzar Kato

..the politics of emotionomics…

…well….its abt that we delve into the abbys most people have dubbed the heart!!!….
know those times when one party in a “ship” is supposedly callous and shoves all their emotions under the rug?….well, its amazingly ironic how fast the tables always turn…the other party “changes” and gets their emotions out as well after a heavy bruising and perceiving a definite improbability of the other party changing their stand on emotions….just then, the other goon- sorry i meant party- begins to free their emotions and the kicker is, they are always surprised when the so-called meek person does not share in the emotional mumbo any more….they get very hurt and contemplate sinking the “ship”…claiming that its too hard to take the strain…forgetting they called for it in the first place…!!!….this is where most of us brothers go wrong…we never really think that the woman’s emotion and “love” can come to a thrilling halt…it never really is overnight, but most of the time we are to consumed in our self righteousness to see it happen….then it hits us…and we try to get it all back as it was…a vanity in itself…!
Am sure most of the women that are reading this can, in one way or the other, identify with it…and loathe the chap…another thing we never seem to understand, i mean really, ‘why would she loathe my very mention if she was the “impossible one”?’…am sure a most guys identify with this too…but hey…here is the deal…u went and gave her a dream….a hope that maybe she was of the “lucky” breed that find the one that they can be with…then you let them hurt, all the while beating them up (figure of speech, unless of course you are a 2 bit troll with a 2inch piece!!) and making them feel like such fools for closing their eyes to reality….then when they decide to perceive and accept reality…the other party(the goon) then realizes it might be a good thing to change spectrum and align with their emotional blindness, a sad choice that leaves them at parodies again…now, the previously emotional party is furious at the indecision of their partner…meanwhile receiving accusations of being a liar and fake for proclaiming things they dint mean….anyone in those shoes would be furious at the bastard hurling blame…and probably loathe them…for a while at least…and as expected…the other party will remain puzzled and at crossroads with their own perception of reality…

well then…food for thought…should we all be callous and set a new standard for ’emotional’…or should we throw caution to the wind and indulge our emotions at the risk of becoming a backup statistic for this post??!!….food for thought or an unnecessary pondering of a wandering mind?!

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