ALL ABOUT THE VIBES MAN
I think most people live life like a toddler chasing a pigeon. Since humans have existed our toddlers have chased them. I reckon. It seems to be absolutely and totally irresistible.
I wonder was there a day in human history when a slow pigeon was actually caught by a fast toddler. I've never seen it happen.
What's the next move kid? When you grab it like?
Anyway it seems fairly clear. Toddlers want to catch them and they don't want to get caught. But they still hang around. Like, why? You don't see Toddlers chasing a Bald Eagle on the square. Just pigeons. Dumb as cheese.
Just recently I was told by my mate Christof of that Doves are just white Pigeons. Something died in me that day.
So we're like that toddler. Chasing. Clearly they can be caught using age old 'Seeds Under A Trap' techniques. Or glue on a gutter. Not very humane but you catch a ton of them at once.
But we seem to love to spend our energy chasing stuff when all you have to do is build a better mousetrap.
Ya sorry mice are off topic but you know the old saying, "Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door". All you need in order to get what you want is to raise your vibration to the frequency required. If you want to sell a heap of sandwiches then make better sandwiches.
When I was looking for a wife I couldn't convince the Irish women to throw the dice. They could see through me. I was a waster musician with no prospects. And I asked all of them individually.
But I put two and two together and moved to Galway and started busking down this lovely Medieval cobblestone lane way with my cute little shaggy dog and cafes and pigeons on sunny mornings with lovely Ireland doing its thing.
I was lovely looking then. Not the car crash I've become. Now my Grandparents on both sides for ten generations back are sharing out my features amoung themselves.
Well one day an unsuspecting Australian tourist came walking down and heard me singing some daft sappy crap. The linen shirt, the sad song, the quiet little dog, the echo in the laneway and SNAP! I had one.
Almost twenty years later and she's still looking bewildered as to where that guy went and who the loud bogman is thats eating spuds and butter in the kitchen.