is by far the most sincere form of flattery.
At least that's what they tell me.
But I can't find my clown shoes.
31 January 2010
30 January 2010
Just pour the coffee.
When I first moved to town, I worked for a particular fancy-pants grocer. This was not a happy time for the tiny little cake. Having the tendency to be a manic individual, I would desperately accost customers verbally.
As bag boy:
"Oooh! You got that bleu cheese that's on sale! I tried some earlier and it was so tasty. And look at those nice herbs! Get some mushrooms and you're in for a treat for sure."
"Yeah."
"Really! I love all of those things together. You should try it. I usually use them for pasta or stuffed mushrooms. Or little paninis."
"Just put the food in the bag, okay?"
...
Years have passed.
I went to my neighborhood pet store a few days ago. I know people. People know me. The person that I know/knows me in this case happens to work at the pet store. After we regarded each other over the kitty litter and little tins of food he said some thing like:
"Oh hi! I think I met a friend of yours yesterday named ___. We were on a set together working. Yeah, rock-and-roll all they way. That's how I remember ___. Rock-and-roll ___. They said that they really miss you and that you left a gaping hole in their life."
"Yeah, well... you know."
"___ seemed kinda upset inside. I guess you're pretty busy with all of your different stuff. I would understand, I guess, but you should really talk to ___."
"Just put the food in the bag, okay?"
Sometimes, you see yourself becoming like your parents or your close friends. Sometimes, you see others slowly becoming more like you, thinking your thoughts and having your reactions. Sometimes, you see yourself in the process of learning behavior that you thought you could never understand; behavior that when received appears brash and surly that now feels so obviously righteous as it is flung from your fingertips. Sometimes you are forced recognize that you have been growing even if you do not recognize it.
As bag boy:
"Oooh! You got that bleu cheese that's on sale! I tried some earlier and it was so tasty. And look at those nice herbs! Get some mushrooms and you're in for a treat for sure."
"Yeah."
"Really! I love all of those things together. You should try it. I usually use them for pasta or stuffed mushrooms. Or little paninis."
"Just put the food in the bag, okay?"
...
Years have passed.
I went to my neighborhood pet store a few days ago. I know people. People know me. The person that I know/knows me in this case happens to work at the pet store. After we regarded each other over the kitty litter and little tins of food he said some thing like:
"Oh hi! I think I met a friend of yours yesterday named ___. We were on a set together working. Yeah, rock-and-roll all they way. That's how I remember ___. Rock-and-roll ___. They said that they really miss you and that you left a gaping hole in their life."
"Yeah, well... you know."
"___ seemed kinda upset inside. I guess you're pretty busy with all of your different stuff. I would understand, I guess, but you should really talk to ___."
"Just put the food in the bag, okay?"
Sometimes, you see yourself becoming like your parents or your close friends. Sometimes, you see others slowly becoming more like you, thinking your thoughts and having your reactions. Sometimes, you see yourself in the process of learning behavior that you thought you could never understand; behavior that when received appears brash and surly that now feels so obviously righteous as it is flung from your fingertips. Sometimes you are forced recognize that you have been growing even if you do not recognize it.
Attributes
Shoes, like women, have tongues.
Probability dictates that neither are without their hassles.
Probability dictates that neither are without their hassles.
29 January 2010
Magic is Free
and misery is really fkn expensive. Keep your balance high enough to sustain the shuddering and most things should be sufficient to not make your eyes scream to be poked.
We've been focused on the light at the end of the tunnel for so long that the end passed us by without our even noticing. We're still waiting for the air to clear and our lungs to heal while our path is laid well into the next oblivious disaster.
Oh, but we've got piles of empty boxes to burn once we get back home.
We've been focused on the light at the end of the tunnel for so long that the end passed us by without our even noticing. We're still waiting for the air to clear and our lungs to heal while our path is laid well into the next oblivious disaster.
Oh, but we've got piles of empty boxes to burn once we get back home.
I washed
my bedding today. As I removed the last of the sheets, I noticed a rather oddly-colored unidentifiable object at my toes. I kicked it gently. It sharply bit me in return and scurried back under the bed. I knelt, peering at the neglected patch of carpeted floor that the bed covers. There was a flock of unacknowledged angers living there, numerous and lean. It must have started when I would hurl obscenities into the dark while sleeping back when I first moved in. A little time to incubate without disturbances must be all it takes.
Ever forgotten about some used tissues from when you had the flu?
Ever had them start new viral boot camps while you think you're well and over it?
With all of the serenity I could at once muster, I sang deeply of love and understanding and the sound of my quivering voice tore the black little hearts out of each and every one of the cancerous little shits. In my victory, I stood and wiped the goo from my face. When I had a dog, she would have licked the whole mess right up. I glanced at my cats and how they were both half asleep in the window, sipping sunlight and blankly returning my wanting gaze. I got the vacuum out and threw the first load into the washing machine.
Ever forgotten about some used tissues from when you had the flu?
Ever had them start new viral boot camps while you think you're well and over it?
With all of the serenity I could at once muster, I sang deeply of love and understanding and the sound of my quivering voice tore the black little hearts out of each and every one of the cancerous little shits. In my victory, I stood and wiped the goo from my face. When I had a dog, she would have licked the whole mess right up. I glanced at my cats and how they were both half asleep in the window, sipping sunlight and blankly returning my wanting gaze. I got the vacuum out and threw the first load into the washing machine.
It’s been storied
but never prosaic since we last spoke.
These here fingers are in better shape.
There's thick and indecipherable clouds all over.
We look into each other and wonder what exactly is transpiring.
We haven't seen the desert in what feels like ages.
We think about what has been happening there since we've been gone.
We wonder if it is still there.
There are events that hang in the distance that casually draw our attention.
There are big questions still left unanswered.
We're looking at the ground, waiting for it to open up and start singing.
These here fingers are in better shape.
There's thick and indecipherable clouds all over.
We look into each other and wonder what exactly is transpiring.
We haven't seen the desert in what feels like ages.
We think about what has been happening there since we've been gone.
We wonder if it is still there.
There are events that hang in the distance that casually draw our attention.
There are big questions still left unanswered.
We're looking at the ground, waiting for it to open up and start singing.
Taking a moment
to take most, but not all, things into account, I notice that there is magic crammed underneath my fingernails. I had been assuming that the growing blackness was simple dirt due to my return to certain former uses of my hands or perhaps some mysterious fungal infection.
We can never be sure, can we?
Hastily grooming myself between moments that require me to be presentable, I shortcut around washing and scrape away the nostalgic blackness with my teeth. The effects are immediate and of this sensual existence, incapacitating. Sparks fly from my mouth and I briefly see angels playing bocce ball and slapping each other playfully on the ass.
I must remember to save this stuff in little jars and sell it at concerts.
The best of love to you all, palsied wonderbearers.
We can never be sure, can we?
Hastily grooming myself between moments that require me to be presentable, I shortcut around washing and scrape away the nostalgic blackness with my teeth. The effects are immediate and of this sensual existence, incapacitating. Sparks fly from my mouth and I briefly see angels playing bocce ball and slapping each other playfully on the ass.
I must remember to save this stuff in little jars and sell it at concerts.
The best of love to you all, palsied wonderbearers.
A definite halo
of clarity has slowly materialized and now sheds a frost of weeping moonlight onto the ground below. The stars and sky above go about their business of slow-motion catastrophe. This is, as much is, taken as a fleeting and whimsical token of affection from the pulse of existence, however one would want to refer to it. The dirt is whispering cancerously optimistic gossip about the weight and direction of my steps as I again slowly realize that:
Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it is of the same heat and color as that from which we were all initially kicked out onto the road.
No, I was wrong to state that my course is not seeking to again become the in and of the light.
(I collect all the bad things I said and felt due to my anger and wonder where you all are.)
Yes, we are just making laps, and yes, you can and will fall dead on the track if careless.
You won't come back as a dolphin.
And no,
I'm not sorry.
The light is drying my eyes and I put it back into your mouth.
Yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel and it is of the same heat and color as that from which we were all initially kicked out onto the road.
No, I was wrong to state that my course is not seeking to again become the in and of the light.
(I collect all the bad things I said and felt due to my anger and wonder where you all are.)
Yes, we are just making laps, and yes, you can and will fall dead on the track if careless.
You won't come back as a dolphin.
And no,
I'm not sorry.
The light is drying my eyes and I put it back into your mouth.
Someone showed me
that there was a massive sucking sound (like, WOOOOSSSHHH!!!!!!) taking all the noticeable effects from the drinks we were sharing. But hey, the sound was just the messenger! Rationally aiming instead at the source of the problem:
Video games make people stupid.
There is a forced mass extinction of dogs currently transpiring and disembodied synthetic tails are dropped in their place writhing all over the place, parasitically attaching themselves to and awaiting the next easy host. The Gilded Milkbone in the sky shines and the wagging is deafening.
Not good.
I can see your wires showing, lizard alien mind-game.
Video games make people stupid.
There is a forced mass extinction of dogs currently transpiring and disembodied synthetic tails are dropped in their place writhing all over the place, parasitically attaching themselves to and awaiting the next easy host. The Gilded Milkbone in the sky shines and the wagging is deafening.
Not good.
I can see your wires showing, lizard alien mind-game.
Frustration
I made really crappy food tonight and it actually made me sick.
You might have no idea how badly this pisses me off.
Tomorrow I engage this disaster properly.
You might have no idea how badly this pisses me off.
Tomorrow I engage this disaster properly.
Again dumbstruck
by the evidence of my good parenting, the warm-hearted boy cat informs me that his box needs changing by ever so subtly taking a piss in the bathroom sink (reading further back will inform you that this is not the first time this has happened). Lesser bonds would be served by a hot pile on the pillow. I praise him and present his decency to the heavens.
The thick vein of love into which I dip my face and pour my compulsions again high-fives my little life.
Yes.
The thick vein of love into which I dip my face and pour my compulsions again high-fives my little life.
Yes.
Unintentional Magic
There is a little spark that swims gaily from life to life and it enters through the ears. It massages your consciousness into the shape that it deems most fit to deliver your dreams and wastes no time in moving on to the next frustrated child.
Once awake this morning, my eyes fall directly on the cat chewing playfully on the remains of the spark. I collect the wet, sparkly bits and place them in a small Tupperware bowl, which goes directly into the freezer.
The rest of the day is spent on the computer and on the telephone. There is no overseeing municipal agency for the management of fairies. There is no lobby for the maintenance of magic.
The frozen spark shines safely and bright as ever as I grab for some ice cubes.
Once awake this morning, my eyes fall directly on the cat chewing playfully on the remains of the spark. I collect the wet, sparkly bits and place them in a small Tupperware bowl, which goes directly into the freezer.
The rest of the day is spent on the computer and on the telephone. There is no overseeing municipal agency for the management of fairies. There is no lobby for the maintenance of magic.
The frozen spark shines safely and bright as ever as I grab for some ice cubes.
Timing
is far from everything, but it sure helps.
There is a finite but appalling expanse of it ahead. I can definitely see it performing some kind of elaborate gesture at me, but am unable to determine if it is a thumbed nose or the most generous of thumbs up? Due to the strength of the conviction that I found hiding under my bed, I shall choose to see nothing other than what will enable me to serve the commons.
I don my favorite hat and walk out into the smoky future, sure of my fate.
Oooh! If there is to be a name for a new form of Judo that I will enact today it will be of the kind that turns a solicitation from a near stranger to a much longed-for gift to the tight fist of the closest friends. I shall ruminate upon it's name. I shall christen it's life with my own tongue.
There is a finite but appalling expanse of it ahead. I can definitely see it performing some kind of elaborate gesture at me, but am unable to determine if it is a thumbed nose or the most generous of thumbs up? Due to the strength of the conviction that I found hiding under my bed, I shall choose to see nothing other than what will enable me to serve the commons.
I don my favorite hat and walk out into the smoky future, sure of my fate.
Oooh! If there is to be a name for a new form of Judo that I will enact today it will be of the kind that turns a solicitation from a near stranger to a much longed-for gift to the tight fist of the closest friends. I shall ruminate upon it's name. I shall christen it's life with my own tongue.
Bucky
I am reminded of how strong and powerful the equilateral triangle is. Reminded also of how the triangle is manifest in my life. One, two, THREE. That this perfect shape may be repeated so many times and at once form the fabulous geodesic dome to be exploited by ambition and vanity. And cash. And the ever groping fingers of control.
I fake a Japanese accent at random currently. Laughs abundant.
The good friend and I relax our shoulders and drink to the course of the species. We laugh and pick up to leave off exactly where we started. The hands are bound together once again and we part to love and serve the word.
I fake a Japanese accent at random currently. Laughs abundant.
The good friend and I relax our shoulders and drink to the course of the species. We laugh and pick up to leave off exactly where we started. The hands are bound together once again and we part to love and serve the word.
The dumpster
that lives outside my apartment building had a particularly vivid smell as I came home today. Horray for the stinky detritus of humanity.
There is a population of semi-feral cats that live in the general area about my humble home. One of my neighbors so generously (and perhaps questionably) sets out a large plate of food for them; perhaps his intent is to keep them from the aforementioned stinky dumpster. I feed my cats this expensive sensitive lefty food made from New Zealand Bhuddist free-range yoga lamb. He sets out what I would equate to Capn' Crunch. I saw one of the sweet kitties climb down into the sewer, screw around for a bit, and resurface a few minutes later. I am searching for a way to weave these facts together into a cohesive fabric of knowledge which I may drape over my mind for another night out in the party town of understanding.
There is a population of semi-feral cats that live in the general area about my humble home. One of my neighbors so generously (and perhaps questionably) sets out a large plate of food for them; perhaps his intent is to keep them from the aforementioned stinky dumpster. I feed my cats this expensive sensitive lefty food made from New Zealand Bhuddist free-range yoga lamb. He sets out what I would equate to Capn' Crunch. I saw one of the sweet kitties climb down into the sewer, screw around for a bit, and resurface a few minutes later. I am searching for a way to weave these facts together into a cohesive fabric of knowledge which I may drape over my mind for another night out in the party town of understanding.
Rising from the splendor
of a sleep so stubborn as to hold me dear for longer than I had wished, I decide that scrubbing the bathtub while the water boils shall be the best use of my time.
A wicked-looking spider had taken residence in the bristles of my bath scrubby. He flees. During the summer months, any person's residence can be quite the safari, mine being no exception. Soon after, about to hit the shower, the spider is crawling about my mirror and is attacked with shocking agility by a remarkably small daddy-longlegs. There must be more to the hunt than I can perceive, as the spider appears to offer no resistance at all to being webbed up by something that is twice as small as it is.
The next morning, the spider corpse is dangling peacefully in the exact same spot, smaller and more crumpled up, with the daddy-longlegs over twice its previous size, reclining beside. The meal appears to still be casually strolling along. This makes me wonder how long spider years are.
A wicked-looking spider had taken residence in the bristles of my bath scrubby. He flees. During the summer months, any person's residence can be quite the safari, mine being no exception. Soon after, about to hit the shower, the spider is crawling about my mirror and is attacked with shocking agility by a remarkably small daddy-longlegs. There must be more to the hunt than I can perceive, as the spider appears to offer no resistance at all to being webbed up by something that is twice as small as it is.
The next morning, the spider corpse is dangling peacefully in the exact same spot, smaller and more crumpled up, with the daddy-longlegs over twice its previous size, reclining beside. The meal appears to still be casually strolling along. This makes me wonder how long spider years are.
The Shaking
started in my boots (well, okay, oxfords). It moved wigglingly upwards into my outstretched hand as I wait for (the?) ____s to take it in theirs. The shaking disrupts even thought, it realigns honest desires into mangled nonsense. It keeps flies off me.
Another one of those times that are supposed to mark some great turn, some terrific event is again within my sights here, kids. Without the loaded array of expectations (I do hope), but with the clear and guiding light of hope and sheer foolishness, I pray so dearly for this next step, this (millionth) first step to spring me forth. There is reason for a certain element of desperate starvation:
Another one of those times that are supposed to mark some great turn, some terrific event is again within my sights here, kids. Without the loaded array of expectations (I do hope), but with the clear and guiding light of hope and sheer foolishness, I pray so dearly for this next step, this (millionth) first step to spring me forth. There is reason for a certain element of desperate starvation:
Shined brightly
upon by the light of opportunity, I am fortunate enough to have had the opportunity to make some brand new noises with a brand new friend. This is what life is all about here, kids. Motion. Vision. Loudness. Not so loudness. Direction... direction into the mouth of who knows what and whom dare ask.
(addendum) Seething with anxious hope, my shaking hands revealing juvenile birds ready for first flight, it appears that honest work and good decisions will bring further trips into lush prairies of confusion of and for the heart and spirit. Mmm.
(addendum) Seething with anxious hope, my shaking hands revealing juvenile birds ready for first flight, it appears that honest work and good decisions will bring further trips into lush prairies of confusion of and for the heart and spirit. Mmm.
Positively starved
of the rapidly antiquating portion of my music collection (having been for a year and a half) I decide to petition a favor from a friend: a little portable record player for as low as the beast can let it go. A new pickaxe in the eternal dig for the elusive truth. The prospect of endless self-contained collections of time, this history spinning before me, frozen into black...
To know, and if not to know, then to at least see. To understand, and if not to understand, then to at least hear. To breathe and wax romantic about the lusty trail we've left in the dust behind us, and if not to be touched, then at least to feel. To be sure that all of perception is a dirty trick and a priceless gift.
To know, and if not to know, then to at least see. To understand, and if not to understand, then to at least hear. To breathe and wax romantic about the lusty trail we've left in the dust behind us, and if not to be touched, then at least to feel. To be sure that all of perception is a dirty trick and a priceless gift.
Waffling carelessly
between generosity and coldheartedness (and thumbing my nose at my best instincts), I foolishly arm and then disarm a waiting storm (that's been drinking). I so rarely get the opportunity to yell at people, which may have been itch enough to provoke all this...
Truthfully though, relating all the unhappy little details of this with solemn remorse, I am reassured that my life, my sanctity, my foggy eyes are all more important than the pile of dreams yet to be assigned to their dreamers.
Let it not burn or be lost.
Truthfully though, relating all the unhappy little details of this with solemn remorse, I am reassured that my life, my sanctity, my foggy eyes are all more important than the pile of dreams yet to be assigned to their dreamers.
Let it not burn or be lost.
As time blossoms
in my face and upon my breath, certain facts (wholly disregarding truth) scream for my attention:
1. Things, when left to the devices of others, will always run late. I suppose that I have been guilty of this myself in the past, but friends, we've got phones and manners now. Let's talk when talking is called for. Although a learned professional of spending unallocated stretches of time within the walls of my head at the drop of a hat, I'd rather do it at home.
2. Masking tape doesn't work unless you fork out for the six dollar roll. Reminded of a quote: "Good food ain't cheap. Cheap food ain't good."
3. Fortune will not find you; one must track it down using forgotten and antiquated yet deftly honed techniques and beat it, this fortune, into submission. This is called luck.
Yes.
1. Things, when left to the devices of others, will always run late. I suppose that I have been guilty of this myself in the past, but friends, we've got phones and manners now. Let's talk when talking is called for. Although a learned professional of spending unallocated stretches of time within the walls of my head at the drop of a hat, I'd rather do it at home.
2. Masking tape doesn't work unless you fork out for the six dollar roll. Reminded of a quote: "Good food ain't cheap. Cheap food ain't good."
3. Fortune will not find you; one must track it down using forgotten and antiquated yet deftly honed techniques and beat it, this fortune, into submission. This is called luck.
Yes.
I shoot,
to my surprise, bolt upright at 6AM.
I guess that there's work to be done.
Oh yes, the preparing for a mass extinction within the walls of my humble home.
I can use all the time I can grab.
Fear shudders at the sight of today's glorious and unrelenting drive, today's furious direction; fear as well collapses in it's wake. Being not one to be commanding of this fear, I push myself to remember to buy some rubber gloves and extra paper towels (perhaps even goggles). One can only be too careful, but I risk this battle only at my own expense.
I guess that there's work to be done.
Oh yes, the preparing for a mass extinction within the walls of my humble home.
I can use all the time I can grab.
Fear shudders at the sight of today's glorious and unrelenting drive, today's furious direction; fear as well collapses in it's wake. Being not one to be commanding of this fear, I push myself to remember to buy some rubber gloves and extra paper towels (perhaps even goggles). One can only be too careful, but I risk this battle only at my own expense.
Jubilation
is such a fleeting thing.
As the hot drips cease to plague my foundation and the shining light of my frolicking dream flashes again brightly, yet in the distance, I again see the oppression of these trenches I've dug. Waiting quietly for lightning to again strike at my whole being, these trenches fill steadily with a wet population of demons, crawling in from behind the darkness and brave like stocky little hellhogs.
This patience I've developed is definitely (hopefully not) chewing away at whatever this dream may yet hold.
Whatever dreams may yet come.
Whatever face may yet smile back at me in whatever way.
Whatever further jubilation may yet heal.
My good friend, my unshakable, clenched friend shall have no soft words for any of this. This procession of life with little warmth upon my chest is slowly growing old (as you, and as well as I, become). Before I grab the future by the balls and refuse to ever release, my hands are locked onto the lapels of the present and no words pass my lips, no tears clean my eyes...
Again reminded of the hardest revulsion I have ever at once felt and the lesson that it carried in it's terrible arms: Anyone who ever tells you that tomorrow never comes is a fuck and a coward with no respect for the passage of time and all of it's known and untold glories. Tomorrow has and will always come regardless of how our senses can ever (fail to?) perceive it's dawn.
This all cleared the path for more: your arms are only so long, your eyes are only so sharp, your heart only so big.
There are worse things.
As the hot drips cease to plague my foundation and the shining light of my frolicking dream flashes again brightly, yet in the distance, I again see the oppression of these trenches I've dug. Waiting quietly for lightning to again strike at my whole being, these trenches fill steadily with a wet population of demons, crawling in from behind the darkness and brave like stocky little hellhogs.
This patience I've developed is definitely (hopefully not) chewing away at whatever this dream may yet hold.
Whatever dreams may yet come.
Whatever face may yet smile back at me in whatever way.
Whatever further jubilation may yet heal.
My good friend, my unshakable, clenched friend shall have no soft words for any of this. This procession of life with little warmth upon my chest is slowly growing old (as you, and as well as I, become). Before I grab the future by the balls and refuse to ever release, my hands are locked onto the lapels of the present and no words pass my lips, no tears clean my eyes...
Again reminded of the hardest revulsion I have ever at once felt and the lesson that it carried in it's terrible arms: Anyone who ever tells you that tomorrow never comes is a fuck and a coward with no respect for the passage of time and all of it's known and untold glories. Tomorrow has and will always come regardless of how our senses can ever (fail to?) perceive it's dawn.
This all cleared the path for more: your arms are only so long, your eyes are only so sharp, your heart only so big.
There are worse things.
More blank eyes
That I could birth some gem and display it to all of you in your various tiny struggles and that we may all sit around the dinner table with it and rejoice in our collective needs as ignorant and hopeful people.
Sadly, tonight this shall not pass.
Fortunately, it is not my place to bring us all together as such.
I'm trying my best and am open to suggestions.
The resounding joy that I exude and collect at the sight of not working tomorrow! As if this unaccountability even illuminates the desolate and heartless path! As if I acknowledge this at all! Spite! The hearts and skulls of circumstance collide equally with my trajectory and leave it all straight down the middle; it is up to me to decide if the times are rich, red, and beating or hard, stark, and cold. Again, this line in the sand, this glove thrown in the dirt is wholly ignored by me. I will not be moved to choose.
Sadly, tonight this shall not pass.
Fortunately, it is not my place to bring us all together as such.
I'm trying my best and am open to suggestions.
The resounding joy that I exude and collect at the sight of not working tomorrow! As if this unaccountability even illuminates the desolate and heartless path! As if I acknowledge this at all! Spite! The hearts and skulls of circumstance collide equally with my trajectory and leave it all straight down the middle; it is up to me to decide if the times are rich, red, and beating or hard, stark, and cold. Again, this line in the sand, this glove thrown in the dirt is wholly ignored by me. I will not be moved to choose.
Further Contemplation
This is my response to the bulletin that I posted earlier about the May 1 walkout/strike/march thingy.
Upon deeper consideration and consultation with my personal adviser and my Mexican buddies, I am actually scared as hell about all of this. Perhaps not the first blow to the legs and eyes of the Beast, perhaps a non-inclusive, selfish, and needlessly self-exposing, yet brave act. Maybe all this will blow up in their faces, motivating the xenophobes we live amongst. My point of focus about this is that I am desperate to see any large group (let alone one with which I identify somewhat) stand up and if not eloquently, then unequivocally flip the glorious bird to the Beast. Being snared in the last melee made me choke up with adamant pride and I want it again...
Upon deeper consideration and consultation with my personal adviser and my Mexican buddies, I am actually scared as hell about all of this. Perhaps not the first blow to the legs and eyes of the Beast, perhaps a non-inclusive, selfish, and needlessly self-exposing, yet brave act. Maybe all this will blow up in their faces, motivating the xenophobes we live amongst. My point of focus about this is that I am desperate to see any large group (let alone one with which I identify somewhat) stand up and if not eloquently, then unequivocally flip the glorious bird to the Beast. Being snared in the last melee made me choke up with adamant pride and I want it again...
Re-invigoration
As I stumble and cough in this at times morbid fashion through our misshapen Eden, my vague little prayers are if not answered, at least acknowledged. As I beg for the fruits of my people to feed and confuse the shit out of me, these simple seeds are growing...
The noses of the privileged and the eyes of the self-righteous have not and will never reach the tight weave of this ramshackle armor I must unfortunately (thankfully) wear upon my heart.
Right. As I was intending to say, when the pace of being is so formulaic and without modulation, one tends to gradually freak out over time. A strict diet of rice and beans is revolutionized by the sudden introduction of the humble tomato, if I may be understood...
The wealthy hands of providence bless me with spices that I haven't tasted for, well, I don't how long or if I even have, but it sure seems like a while. As I savor the delicate and obviously temporary additions, my shoulders chill over and my neck goes taught not unlike in the throes of love, and they shall not pass until forgotten, which is, as always, much too soon.
I am again whispered that talk is cheap, inaction is death, and something else equally as important.
The noses of the privileged and the eyes of the self-righteous have not and will never reach the tight weave of this ramshackle armor I must unfortunately (thankfully) wear upon my heart.
Right. As I was intending to say, when the pace of being is so formulaic and without modulation, one tends to gradually freak out over time. A strict diet of rice and beans is revolutionized by the sudden introduction of the humble tomato, if I may be understood...
The wealthy hands of providence bless me with spices that I haven't tasted for, well, I don't how long or if I even have, but it sure seems like a while. As I savor the delicate and obviously temporary additions, my shoulders chill over and my neck goes taught not unlike in the throes of love, and they shall not pass until forgotten, which is, as always, much too soon.
I am again whispered that talk is cheap, inaction is death, and something else equally as important.
The strings
that usually hold my essence securely inside me are loose and unsafe.
This is largely due to what I will liken to a metaphysical cabin fever that I am in the midst of battling.
Trying to be cautious of course.
I sneeze pretty hard sometimes, and I don't want my soul to slam into the windshield or something. It's the only one I've got as far as I can tell.
This is largely due to what I will liken to a metaphysical cabin fever that I am in the midst of battling.
Trying to be cautious of course.
I sneeze pretty hard sometimes, and I don't want my soul to slam into the windshield or something. It's the only one I've got as far as I can tell.
Drip, drip, drip
Somewhere and somehow I heard that life viewed in reverse is composed so beautifully and succinctly that the trials of being forced to live it in this forward and linear fashion make it all worth having.
Bearing this in mind, I have at times attempted to fuck with the whole process and proceed backwards so that I may see things clearly moving forward.
This does not work.
Frankly, if it did, I would buckle in tears from fearsome manifestations of time itself being ripped apart by the feeble will.
People should not see these things or try to harness the direction of what we cannot comprehend.
Providence has shown me that although clever and not without resource or usefulness, we should bear in mind that not a single one of us can ever be sure that we truly matter in our writhings and violence about this beautiful and generous green Earth, whose full dimensions shall never properly unfold before us.
Happily, things progress much the same. As before, I am whole and I think my shower will be fixed soon.
Bearing this in mind, I have at times attempted to fuck with the whole process and proceed backwards so that I may see things clearly moving forward.
This does not work.
Frankly, if it did, I would buckle in tears from fearsome manifestations of time itself being ripped apart by the feeble will.
People should not see these things or try to harness the direction of what we cannot comprehend.
Providence has shown me that although clever and not without resource or usefulness, we should bear in mind that not a single one of us can ever be sure that we truly matter in our writhings and violence about this beautiful and generous green Earth, whose full dimensions shall never properly unfold before us.
Happily, things progress much the same. As before, I am whole and I think my shower will be fixed soon.
Fuck Danger
If I could be calm enough to count, I would be overwhelmed by the numbers flying at me.
Fortunately, I am dumbfounded and arrested by quantities of anything greater than three. Thusly simplified, I stake out another peaceful corner in my mind.
Beat that.
Opportunity flutters about me like I could only hope for. That I may choose and be lucky to choose.
My unrelenting desires to protect, comfort, and engage that for which I care are tested today. I thankfully have learned to keep my mouth shut (a skill with which I toy so closely at this very moment) to protect us all from it. Again, that may I choose and be lucky to do so.
Fortunately, I am dumbfounded and arrested by quantities of anything greater than three. Thusly simplified, I stake out another peaceful corner in my mind.
Beat that.
Opportunity flutters about me like I could only hope for. That I may choose and be lucky to choose.
My unrelenting desires to protect, comfort, and engage that for which I care are tested today. I thankfully have learned to keep my mouth shut (a skill with which I toy so closely at this very moment) to protect us all from it. Again, that may I choose and be lucky to do so.
These are my toes,
and these are my fingers, swaying gently in the thick sunshine.
Having nothing to do with the mostly dead and still somehow very cute little animal that the cat drops at my feet, they (all twenty) continue in their quest to bop freely at the ends of my limbs and uncontrollably in my face, singing their little songs in freakishly perfect harmony and doing their languid, perfect little dance.
Refusing to be unhinged by any of this and in spite of their taunts, I praise the heavens for having still left me with every one in place and intact.
The balance of tradition not yet upset, they all crawl about my life as I try to work and hope to sleep.
Having nothing to do with the mostly dead and still somehow very cute little animal that the cat drops at my feet, they (all twenty) continue in their quest to bop freely at the ends of my limbs and uncontrollably in my face, singing their little songs in freakishly perfect harmony and doing their languid, perfect little dance.
Refusing to be unhinged by any of this and in spite of their taunts, I praise the heavens for having still left me with every one in place and intact.
The balance of tradition not yet upset, they all crawl about my life as I try to work and hope to sleep.
Fear
From the archives. Edited for clarity but not for content (names of people and places changed to protect my secret agent status):
One time I went dancing with my friends (the roommates, the boys) Matt, Peter, and Luke. Peter had gone to his own version of great lengths to get appropriate attire for the dancing. I own two suits. I was helping him dress with the patience of great nannies everywhere, and he offered me some of Matt's Adirol. I accepted the offer after a spell of token kvetching. I've got issues with speedy drugs. Matt has many uses for it, my guess is that it helps solidify his character arc primarily.
We are out, having acquired Helen from across the hall, and she's driving with Peter sitting shotgun: the delusional navigating the stubborn. It's raining pretty hard. I am oblivious to how much I am talking. Peter wants disco. He does not know where to find it. We travel. I suggest that we head over to the Snackbar, which ain't exactly disco, but you've got to really try to walk out of there having not committed at least two or three biblical atrocities. Once inside, I'm dying for a drink, and beeline the fuck to the bar, letting everyone else decide what the they're doing. They've decided to leave.
Peter is starting to get quite upset that the plans that he hardly manifested are not coming through. I request that we stop off at the nearest liquor store so that I can buy two little airplane bottles of gin (if this is how the night is headed, nothing will stand in the way of my getting drunk, especially being that I'm not driving for once!). After much more quarreling, we're off to Celebrity Underpants, which is the sort of nightclub that is so far off my map that I could keep a fantastic disdain for it all my life, which I do. Walking up to the club, I kill both bottles. I dance a little, I drink a lot more. The club closes.
We're all clumped under the awning at my favorite taqueria, barely avoiding the rain. There's more of us now, and I'm not sure how that happened. The voices inside me are demanding that I go to the 7-11. The guy inside has barricaded the door, and I really can't blame him. I didn't even know what the voices wanted me to get.
I'm standing at an intersection in a residential neighborhood. I have no idea how I got there. It's raining harder than ever. I begin to freak the hell out. I blacked out and got myself about five blocks away from all of my friends. I start running, and so does my head... to nowhere good of course. My underlying fear of abandonment surfaces and harpoons what's left of my good sense. I'm finally standing in front of everyone, crying and shaking, but imperceptibly as it turns out, due to my drunken state and the rain that has soaked every inch of me and my good suit. Nobody flinched when I came back. I apparently left saying that I'd be back in ten minutes. I was.
Recalling this all to Matt, he casually informs me that one should exercise caution when mixing Adirol and alcohol, as you probably won't realize how drunk you've gotten yourself until it's too late.
One time I went dancing with my friends (the roommates, the boys) Matt, Peter, and Luke. Peter had gone to his own version of great lengths to get appropriate attire for the dancing. I own two suits. I was helping him dress with the patience of great nannies everywhere, and he offered me some of Matt's Adirol. I accepted the offer after a spell of token kvetching. I've got issues with speedy drugs. Matt has many uses for it, my guess is that it helps solidify his character arc primarily.
We are out, having acquired Helen from across the hall, and she's driving with Peter sitting shotgun: the delusional navigating the stubborn. It's raining pretty hard. I am oblivious to how much I am talking. Peter wants disco. He does not know where to find it. We travel. I suggest that we head over to the Snackbar, which ain't exactly disco, but you've got to really try to walk out of there having not committed at least two or three biblical atrocities. Once inside, I'm dying for a drink, and beeline the fuck to the bar, letting everyone else decide what the they're doing. They've decided to leave.
Peter is starting to get quite upset that the plans that he hardly manifested are not coming through. I request that we stop off at the nearest liquor store so that I can buy two little airplane bottles of gin (if this is how the night is headed, nothing will stand in the way of my getting drunk, especially being that I'm not driving for once!). After much more quarreling, we're off to Celebrity Underpants, which is the sort of nightclub that is so far off my map that I could keep a fantastic disdain for it all my life, which I do. Walking up to the club, I kill both bottles. I dance a little, I drink a lot more. The club closes.
We're all clumped under the awning at my favorite taqueria, barely avoiding the rain. There's more of us now, and I'm not sure how that happened. The voices inside me are demanding that I go to the 7-11. The guy inside has barricaded the door, and I really can't blame him. I didn't even know what the voices wanted me to get.
I'm standing at an intersection in a residential neighborhood. I have no idea how I got there. It's raining harder than ever. I begin to freak the hell out. I blacked out and got myself about five blocks away from all of my friends. I start running, and so does my head... to nowhere good of course. My underlying fear of abandonment surfaces and harpoons what's left of my good sense. I'm finally standing in front of everyone, crying and shaking, but imperceptibly as it turns out, due to my drunken state and the rain that has soaked every inch of me and my good suit. Nobody flinched when I came back. I apparently left saying that I'd be back in ten minutes. I was.
Recalling this all to Matt, he casually informs me that one should exercise caution when mixing Adirol and alcohol, as you probably won't realize how drunk you've gotten yourself until it's too late.
Family / TT
Things come in fits and starts to a degree that can only be lamented or lauded.
The vast and unspeakable terror of a future without end is arrested by a good friend and her family laying their grace on what may have been just another evening. I have come to believe that strings of true human decency run through siblings like it should through us all.
Also, my family comes to me so soon and I relish the prospect.
Yes.
The vast and unspeakable terror of a future without end is arrested by a good friend and her family laying their grace on what may have been just another evening. I have come to believe that strings of true human decency run through siblings like it should through us all.
Also, my family comes to me so soon and I relish the prospect.
Yes.
Now
So my little pinpoint of light yet travels through the clouds and bogs of experience.
I've taken to working every day of the week.
My financial overlords at Chase and MBNA cower at the thought of my unshackling from their tyranny of perceived affluence.
I daily waffle over the acquisition of things that make noise and generally take the high road home to softly sing myself to sleep.
Things are good.
My companion Billy the Cactus has been sent to a new home.
It saddens me to think that I could not afford him a better life and must see him off, but the promise of a home amongst his kind and in the open sunshine gives me peace.
I've taken to working every day of the week.
My financial overlords at Chase and MBNA cower at the thought of my unshackling from their tyranny of perceived affluence.
I daily waffle over the acquisition of things that make noise and generally take the high road home to softly sing myself to sleep.
Things are good.
My companion Billy the Cactus has been sent to a new home.
It saddens me to think that I could not afford him a better life and must see him off, but the promise of a home amongst his kind and in the open sunshine gives me peace.
Travel
New York City is so much better when:
-three performances are lined up
-finding oneself cavorting with other people's heroes
-staying with family
-using a Norwegian computer
If only I had have known before.
I like playing with White and I like my cousin Sarah.
-three performances are lined up
-finding oneself cavorting with other people's heroes
-staying with family
-using a Norwegian computer
If only I had have known before.
I like playing with White and I like my cousin Sarah.
Glovebox
So,
My car got broken into for the fifth time since I moved. Lost nothing this time but they royally compromised my glovebox assembly in a failed attempt to pry it open. Trying to reattach it made the situation worse.
At a gas station, fiddling with the busted lock as I fill up, I get a strange proposition from two forty-ish white women in a large sport utility vehicle.
I later manage to remove and discard the whole shebang.
My car got broken into for the fifth time since I moved. Lost nothing this time but they royally compromised my glovebox assembly in a failed attempt to pry it open. Trying to reattach it made the situation worse.
At a gas station, fiddling with the busted lock as I fill up, I get a strange proposition from two forty-ish white women in a large sport utility vehicle.
I later manage to remove and discard the whole shebang.
Fuzzy Intelligence
So on Sundays I'm at work for twelve hours straight or so. I leave the cats inside because they need to eat and it's cruel to lock them out all day.
They use the catbox.
Two cats, one box.
A while back I noticed a small pool of yellow at the drain in my shower.
They understand plumbing.
I had a minor obsessive fantasy as a teenager that involved the evolution of the housecat. I am of the reinvigorated opinion that if given proper time and a set of thumbs, these furry, adorable little assassins pose a great challenge to our rule on this planet.
Until that time, these downfalls are purely of our own making.
They use the catbox.
Two cats, one box.
A while back I noticed a small pool of yellow at the drain in my shower.
They understand plumbing.
I had a minor obsessive fantasy as a teenager that involved the evolution of the housecat. I am of the reinvigorated opinion that if given proper time and a set of thumbs, these furry, adorable little assassins pose a great challenge to our rule on this planet.
Until that time, these downfalls are purely of our own making.
Gifts
The previous time I got my eyes checked, I went to a private office, a nice one. I currently find myself at LENSCRAFTERS because they have an auto club discount! To a certain degree, one is fed through the experience like a cow through...
They gave me a full exam and used those drops in that dilate your pupils; they made me feel like the insides of my eyes were refusing to cooperate. When I asked her if I was safe to drive, the doctor gave me a vanishing wraith of an answer that I ignored.
The glasses were indeed ready in an hour. The man helping me gave me a mirror and asked what I thought?
"Wow, I look really cool!"
He didn't think that was funny.
What I think is that they're too expensive and that makes me feel a little funny.
They gave me a full exam and used those drops in that dilate your pupils; they made me feel like the insides of my eyes were refusing to cooperate. When I asked her if I was safe to drive, the doctor gave me a vanishing wraith of an answer that I ignored.
The glasses were indeed ready in an hour. The man helping me gave me a mirror and asked what I thought?
"Wow, I look really cool!"
He didn't think that was funny.
What I think is that they're too expensive and that makes me feel a little funny.
Variety
I like the intrepid drive that the diversity of Los Angeles seethes.
Spent the early part of my day hopping around town meeting all sorts of people and taking handouts from within the quiet pockets of wealthy homeowners.
-busy and chaotic boulevards-
-hulking faceless buildings where entertainment is concocted and mediated-
Driving home, I notice a police cruiser perform a wacky traffic maneuver without the use of the siren or any lights. It parks hastily and the emerging officers confidently draw their weapons, entering the Hollywood Rehabilitation Center or something like that. The light turns and I drive off home to eat my sandwich, confident that tomorrow will bring even more.
Spent the early part of my day hopping around town meeting all sorts of people and taking handouts from within the quiet pockets of wealthy homeowners.
-busy and chaotic boulevards-
-hulking faceless buildings where entertainment is concocted and mediated-
Driving home, I notice a police cruiser perform a wacky traffic maneuver without the use of the siren or any lights. It parks hastily and the emerging officers confidently draw their weapons, entering the Hollywood Rehabilitation Center or something like that. The light turns and I drive off home to eat my sandwich, confident that tomorrow will bring even more.
Nu-Tra at the Scotch 'til You Drop
Okay, so like, last night (Thanksgiving Eve) at the Whisky (a-go-go) was what should shape up to be Nu-Tra's last show of the calendar year.
A fine blast was had by all.
Eric was whipcreamed out front of the club prior to eating cake with all the revelers about because it was HIS birthday this time. The van got a little...exterior rearrangement, but I didn't see what happened, so...
I did not have to chant Mr. Saracco's suggested mantra of protection, so that was nice. The deepest gratitude and thanks to all who gave us their time, intentionally or not so. Others, I am never buying your kid's stupid chocolate bars ever again for a little while.
A fine blast was had by all.
Eric was whipcreamed out front of the club prior to eating cake with all the revelers about because it was HIS birthday this time. The van got a little...exterior rearrangement, but I didn't see what happened, so...
I did not have to chant Mr. Saracco's suggested mantra of protection, so that was nice. The deepest gratitude and thanks to all who gave us their time, intentionally or not so. Others, I am never buying your kid's stupid chocolate bars ever again for a little while.
Unintentional Consequences Seething with Opportunity
Okay, so my CDs get stolen about a month ago, or something close to it. This is quite the bummer being that I had gone record shopping about 36 hours beforehand and had my little book stocked full of my current favorites as well as these new acquisitions that were on their way to being favorites.
Then both of my cats get sick.
Then I get a slick, white MP3 player.
I no longer cry when gazing upon my empty CD cases.
My cats receive attention.
Life turns around.
I narrowly avoid death while picking out the most appropriate song for the moment while driving.
Thank you Steve.
Then both of my cats get sick.
Then I get a slick, white MP3 player.
I no longer cry when gazing upon my empty CD cases.
My cats receive attention.
Life turns around.
I narrowly avoid death while picking out the most appropriate song for the moment while driving.
Thank you Steve.
Exhumed writings now coming back to life!
The posts that follow are older writings of mine that I have exhumed from the Myspace profile that I have decommissioned.
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