It's time to come clean - I'm a drug addict...

i have a confession to make. i am a drug addict. i have a dependency that i can no longer control and i need to come clean.

it actually started when i was very young - i first tried it while i was still at home with my parents, infact it was them who got me hooked on it in the first place! but don't feel bad for me - they're good people really...

truth be told, it all started while i was hanging out with friends after school, and later at college when we were all meeting new people and doing new and exciting things. then at uni it really took off! i'd spend two, three, four sometimes even five days a week floating up there in the druggie ether...then on my travels things sort of got out of control and i wouldn't go more than a few hours without a hit...but now i think it's time for me to share my story. maybe, through my admission, i can help others find peace with their own addiction...

y'see, my drug of choice was - and still is - happiness.

now don't be mistaken - happiness is a drug. 100%.

we experience happiness as part of a chemical reaction in the brain which affects our serotonin neurotransmitters, exactly the same as when you take ecstasy (or so i'm told...ahem...), and happiness is often used as a coping mechanism when we need to feel better about ourselves and get through the dark times, again much like other drugs...

as for getting hooked on it, well that's the easiest part of all - happiness is the most addictive thing on the market today!

we see it, we want it; we taste it, we need it; we we try it, we crave it, and once we have it in our system, you better believe that we'll go to some crazy lengths to get that feeling again!

it sends us wild - it can make us do things we wouldn't dream of while sober! for instance, extensive research into this drug has shown me that common symptoms include:

• smiling more often and more widely
• freedom from worry or preoccupation (although this can be seen as both cause and reaction)
• a propensity to talk (and be nice) to strangers
• a willingness to indulge in spontaneous action
• a deeper appreciation for what matters in life and a greater sense of perspective on our priorities

you must recognise the signs, right? you've surely seen all of these in others at some point? in fact, looking back at your younger days you might even recognise a time when you exhibited these same effects of chemical exploration...and that's the final point i need to make about happiness - it's contagious!

we can be taking it without even knowing it...we can be getting high from a friend's buzz and before we know it we're smiling and grinning and who knows - maybe even laughing!

well, i'm coming to terms with my addiction - i can't see me getting 'clean' or wanting to get clean anytime soon...i'm having too good a time today for any of that talk, but they say the most important step is admitting you're addicted...

well sweetness, i'm addicted - i'm 100% hooked on happiness and happy to be!

and seeing as i've taken the plunge and come clean, i've got to ask - when was the last time you took a hit of pure, uncut joy, huh?

just a thought...

Tony Nicklinson: One man's touching tale...

Imagine being in prison; kept against your will, not able to go where you want, asking permission to do even the smallest of things, and knowing that this is your life. This is it. No escape. Just this cage.

It's a horrible thought isn't it? To have your freedom ripped away from you…

Now imagine that prison is your own body. That your still 'you' – you still want to do all the things you do now - walk, stroll, run, jump, chase, shake hands, hug and make love...but your body and a cruel twist of fate conspire to make you sit there. Rooted. Trapped. Waiting. Not hoping, because hope has long since departed - but wanting and yearning for relief...

Now I know this sounds like the making of a Greek tragedy, but for Tony Nicklinson, this, sadly, wasn't the stuff of myth or tale, this was reality. This was his reality. This was his life.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-19341722

And for Tony, the relief that he yearned and prayed for was death. The pain was too much. The sadness of being trapped within himself was too much. And the anguish of the memory of how he lived before his stroke – a happy, active, rugby-playing, sky-diving father and husband – was too much.

That's why, for the past decade since his stroke, Tony - along with the unconditional and selfless support of his family - campaigned for the right to grant him his relief, and spare him the years of hurt and indignity that lay before him.

Now I'm not here to question the sanctity of life...that's not my place or business...but when someone is in so much pain that even though they can't move their lips to tell their partner they love them, their face can still contort in sheer anguish at the sentence of - for want of a better word - 'life', then the question begs what is more humane; the preservation (prolonging) of human life, or the protection (protecting the value of it) of it? I mean surely the root value of human life, the enduring grace and sustaining joy lies in choice...free will...to decide how our life is lived...

In Tony Nicklinson’s case, it is my opinion that society was shown the stage upon which men must stand to make important decisions, and they shied away. They said "it wasn't for them to decide, but for Parliament."  That, for me, is the ethical equivalent of saying “don’t ask me – I just work here. Ask someone else.”

This ruling, or lack thereof, broke Tony Nicklinson's heart. From that day, he refused food or treatment and within a week he had contracted pneumonia and had died.

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/lockedin-syndrome-sufferer-tony-nicklinson-dies-of-pneumonia-less-than-a-week-after-losing-a-legal-challenge-for-the-right-to-end-his-life-8072884.html

To no great fanfare or farewell, to no poetic tributes or songs written, but he had thrown the debate of assisted suicide (or depending on your interpretation; 'assisted autonomy') into the media spotlight and the public consciousness. – and who knows who else his work might help in the future…

But more importantly, he touched millions of lives with his story and his plight, and then as softly as he left came into our lives, he left his own with an understated yet heartfelt farewell;

"Goodbye world the time has come - I've had some fun"

And if Tony's tale tells us anything, it is surely that, in the enduring words of Jagger and co., "You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you just might find you get what you need..."

Just a thought...

How would you define ‘happiness'...?

'Happiness' - it's a good feeling, ain't it? It's so good, that people dedicate their whole lives searching for it...you know what I'm talking about - I mean that Christmassy, summery, holiday-y feeling of contentment that you don't notice arriving, and yet is overwhelming once it’s arrived...

But it's funny how this one word; this one, same feeling that we (myself included) chase daily, can be defined or at least described so differently and so diversely between people who are, for all intents and purposes, so very similar in their everyday lives...

For one person it's making that 'big sale!' so that they get their four-fifths commish(ion); for another it's leaving work on time so they have chance to go for a run before the evening's done; and for others it's as simple as getting through the day to see that certain someone who brightens up their day with one of those big, beaming smiles...

Yep, happiness is individual, it's shifting and it's abstract. But it's also wonderful, intoxicating and addictive!

Gafas Rodriguez is working on a project to get people talking about happiness and to see if we can share each other's idea of it. I think it’s a swell idea and I'm flattered to have been a (small) part of it...

www.lettertoourworld.com

@LTRtoourworld

facebook.com/lettertoourworld

This is what I think, but I'm left wondering - what do you think? Leave a comment below and let me/Gafas - and the rest of the world - know what 'happiness' means to you...

Just a thought...

The best blog post ever written…ever!

this is literally the single greatest blog post you will ever read! honestly, it is genuinely the must-read piece of your life! it's the most insightful and brilliantly written post i've ever seen and what’s more is it’s the most completely hilarious article to be posted on the internet…ever!!!

now i'd love for this to be true, but i fear i need a few more years honing my wordy skills before i'm at chris morris/charlie brooker level. that being said, this superlative-laden opening is designed not only to boost my own ego, but to illustrate a point. a point about a prosaic plague of the english language that has been left to spread un-checked for too long now - i am of course talking about the everyday overuse of superlatives...

a superlative, for those who care to ask, is “the highest degree of comparison”. these are generally words that end in ‘est’ (best, funniest, greatest etc.). it is my opinion that superlatives should be saved for occasions which genuinely merit such a term, and yet they get passed around more often than a box of condoms in malaga! and i ask, why is this?

I think it might be because there is so much available to us today, that when we are faced with the tidal wave of information from the world wide web that we need to surf on a daily basis, we get scared. scared people won’t listen to us unless we bullshit and convince them their world will quite literally end if they don’t heed what we’re saying.

don’t get me wrong – superlatives have their place. as someone who works in pr, i am well acquainted with (overly) grandiose terminology. pr folk can find (or invent) a suitable superlative for any incident or event at the drop of the world's smallest hat. but you know what? i think it's high-time we stopped our daily diluting of words which were meant to be saved for those once in a blue moon events that genuinely warrant an 'est' or 'ever'...

par example; if the world's greatest writer composes a piece of wonderful writing which wittily and whimsically deconstructs the human condition, curing cancer, answering the call for world peace, successfully promoting equality of opportunity for one and all while simultaneously making us laugh harder than when a man gets a football kicked into his crotch, then, and only then, shall we be permitted to refer to it as 'literally the greatest/funniest/most interesting article’ – agreed? good.

I mean just think - how many times have you heard someone say; "you need to meet sandy, she is my best fried and she is the funniest and the sweetest girl in the world!" or "like, omg! did you see chad today? he is like the hottest and buffest guy i've ever seen!!"

answer: you've heard these type of things too many times. and no disrespect to sandy and brad here, but...they ain't. and d'ya know what? that's fine!

it's ok for things to be just 'ok' sometimes...it leaves room for the incredible, the spectacular and the remarkable! because these things are all around us in one form or another, and when these things do appear, wouldn't it be nice to pay them the recognition they deserve with words of such gravitas that they command people's attention? so that when we hear there is the 'greatest' or the 'funniest' or the 'most interesting' thing in the world happening, that we actually want to take a look for ourselves and not just dismiss it as another example of well-pr’d mediocrity??

so i implore you all to think about how we describe things before you go ahead and describe them – is that article really the worst you’ve ever read? think about it. was your day really the longest day in history? because chances are it was the same 24 hours as everyone else’s. is that film really the funniest ever made? oh it is? well in that case by all means go ahead and tell the world, because what the world loves more than anything else, is a tale of extremes! 

just a thought…

i'm the man...

hey you! hey down there! can't you see who i am? i've got stripes on my suit, yeah that's right - i'm the man!

see you on the sidewalk – you’re hungry and cold but why should i give a damn...? i do what i want, because my bank balance says i can...

i work in an office and carry a stylish leather briefcase, but don’t think the spirit of me goes any deeper – there’s no love or passion behind this mask of a face…

and yeah i'm celebrating these things i think i'm creating...but look at the fruits of my labour - none of it means anything, in 20 years who’s gonna remember?

it's all nickels and dimes, with the devil lurking in the decimal...and i know what you’re thinking – will this really get me into heaven? well i guess hope does spring eternal...

y’see i'm building towers right up to the sky, nearly blocking out the sun, while the rivers and lakes run dry, leaving the chances of a fruitful future at best slim to none...

but that's of minor concern to a man such as me - i'll be long gone by then, so let's live for today, let’s live for me!

and sure, the kids of years to come might say they never had a choice, a chance like today, to shape and create the world they live in...but what about me? what about today? to ignore that would surely be a sin...

now i guess you think i should care more about what i leave behind, but my eyes are on my own prize, in anything else my interests have long since been resigned…

so when you see me in the street, notice the suit and just let me pass by, and remember to do for others what you can, because why should i care? i’m the f*****g man…

God is in the skies...

God is in the skies...the sky is God...clouds his displeasure, blue skies his smile, the weather his temper, the mountain valleys his regal aisle...

it's so simple - what sees more in this world than the sky? even in houses the sky peaks in through muddied, old, time-smeared window...and if not in house, if in basement, the skies - him - cannot see, but earthy, Godly trees with long driving roots listen to the words you speak through the soil and rocks around the basement...they gather and pass our words up through their twingly tangly knots into its branches as they reach up high...God's messengers bearing all from the soil to the sky...

(inspired by page 30 of Big Sur)