Vultures/people...

Sometimes when I ponder the mundane things that go on in my life I have little epiphanies..Today it is that we, humans, seem to be quite similar to vultures. Scarily so almost. There are certain people that I know who if you tacked some wings on their backs you would have an upright vulture staring right back at you. Predatory people. Thriving off of others misery. Living off of others assets, than flying off when new and more fresh meat comes along. This is not just in my personal life, but I see it globally. Always seeking new prey. So just because we are intelligent, have tons of gadgets and abilities..makes a girl wonder, how evolved are we? Ah well...can't dwell on these thoughts, I suppose, just protect the nest...

You don't need to go to Goa

If any of you have ever heard of Goa, where it became very trendy for people to get mind expansion etc...They would travel far and wide to get their mind right...Well someone, A3, wrote a song about it..and I agree....peace can be found within, right at home, at your local church or whatever you pray to.. You don't need to travel to a place to be with gurus and chant and dance in a circle for large amounts of money to find peace...I don't drink those Smart Bar Drinks...Coffee is about it for me...


I believe I'm gonna
Shut down my chakras, shift Shiva offa my shelf
Take down my tie dyes, my Tibetan bells
Cool down my karma with a can of O.P.T.
Ain't no call for Casteneda in my frontline library.

There's one thing I know, Lord above,
I ain't gonna go,
I ain't goin' to Goa, Ain't goin' to Goa now
Ain't goin' to Goa, Ain't gonna Goa now.

Ain't dancin' trance, no thanx, no chance to t-t-tranquilise me.
Ain't sippin' no smart bar drinks, you, that don't satisfy me.
Dosing up my dharma, with a drop of gasoline,
I ain't down with Mr. McKenna, tantric mantra talkin' don't move me.

I don'tn need no freaky, deeky, fractal geometry, crystal silicon chip.
I ain't walking on lay lines, reading no High Times put me on another bad trip.
Timothy Leary, just check out this theory,
he sold acid for the F.B.I.
Well, he ain't no website wonder, the guru just went under,
you can keep your California Sunshine.

'Cos the righteous truth is, there ain't nothing worse than
some fool lying on some Third World beach wearing
spandex, psychedelic trousers, smoking damn dope
pretending he gettin' consciousness expansion. I want
consciousness expansion, I go to my local tabernacle
an' I sing with the brothers and sisters