SERIOUS-ABSURDITY

{THE LONG DRIVE HOME: Part I}

2009-11-10T19:55:00.000-08:00

If this were a movie, like a real live movie I would position the camera somewhere in the sky for the first shot. There would be lots of light and colors. Psychedelic styled colors. The kind you see when you are on mushrooms or other such hallucinogens. You would see very small specks of things happening like the way you do when you fly across the united stated or anywhere else for that matter except you would slowly fall from the sky and go right towards whatever it is you wanted to focus on. In this case it would be a car traveling roughly 65-70 mph down the New Jersey Turnpike. The car would be the color of gold. There would also be other cars driving around it too but those cars wouldn't matter as much. There would be two guys in the car and they would be having a conversation about whatever is on the radio. Maybe they would be talking about politics or the economy. Something rightfully boring as hell. There would be a message in all of this conversation. If you wanted to hear it. There is a message in all forms of conversation. The first guy would ask the second guy about political division and how it affects the individual but the other guy would say that it doesn't have as much to do with the individual as it does with the whole collective. The other guy would say that if there is no individual then there can be no collective because each individual makes up the collective. He would slowly convince the other to see his point of view. He would also talk about how the media uses illustrative stories, metaphors, symbolism, emotion and thought control to get people to believe in a life that is actually not really their life to believe in. It is a made up life that has no point and purpose for any of the people choosing to believe it. He would also say that people do not even realize they are choosing to live in this way because they have been convinced that it was their idea in the first place. The other man would hear him about but here would be many questions that would need answering but even if he answered those questions it would not bring them any closer to understanding what it is they are talking about. Then a man on the radio would say that one million trillion billion gazillion dollars have been spoon fed to a black hole and no one knows where it disappeared to. The other man would ask how the hell could that much money simply disappear without a trace. The other man would say that it is very easy to lose a very large sum of money if you have connection and control to the printing presses and if you lose all documentation/contracts to the printing of the money. Just like the way you can print any document into the world from your own printer at home. The other man would wonder then if money is real. If it really has any affect on anyone's life or if it is just some agreement that our forefather's and their forefather's and their forefather's agreed to. The other man would ask if maybe it is time to stop following our forefather's because this country was founded on freedom. The other man would ask what is freedom. The man would say that freedom is the ability to live free to one's choices in their life at all costs. The other man would concur but he would also ask how many choices do we really have. The other man would say how many thoughts can you think? This would baffle the man for a moment because he then realizes at that moment that he has only been thinking very selective thoughts and has not even realized that there were other thoughts to think about other than the other sayings/ramblings/slogans of corporations. This would make a small tear fall from the man's eye. This would also help the man to realize that he has never cried a day in his life since he was a little kid. So he would have to pull over to the side of the road and let it all out for a moment. The other man would not know what to say or do so he would let the man let it all out. He would say something like, I'm sorry to overwhelm you with my thinking but these are just some of the thoughts I have been having lately. Then the man's cellular phone would ring. It would be both of the men's boss asking where the hell are they because they have a meeting in the next half an hour. Then man would say they are on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike with a flat tired and that he is really sorry but they will be late ad that this is what happens when you drive in back of a construction truck. The boss on the phone would say please get here as fast as you can and would hang up without saying good bye or see you soon. The two men would look at each other ironically as if there is some irony to this situation but both would realize it's nothing but an odd thought for the moment. There would be a bunch of housing developments next to them on the side of the road. A sign would read "If you lived here, You would be home by now." This would actually be the title for the movie. A commercial on the radio would start talking about these developments and how they will be available in the coming month. This would really cause some irony at the moment because here is both of these men. Late to a financial meeting for the debt collection company they work for. Conversations about financial ideas. Both of them barely making it by with enough money to just scrape by the skin of their teeth which is actually slowly wearing off. They would consider this to be a sign that maybe it is time for a change in both of their lives. They would get into the car and continue driving to work. This would all happen early in the morning. Right as the sun is coming up. The first light of the day. There would be steam rising off the ponds and rivers that they drove by. They would turn the radio off and ride in silence the rest of the way into the city. They would go through the Holland Tunnel and end up on Canal Street. There would be a policeman directing traffic. A vendor selling hot coffee and doughnuts. A long line of fat people would be impatiently waiting for their turn. They would all look at their watches very obsessively. Chinese people would be almost knocking each other over with buckets of plants, vegetables, handbags and other such items that we will never know about. Other chinese people would be saying DVD, DVD for sale. African American men would be carrying around very large trash bags full of hand bags and would be quickly opening and closing them before the police show up. Crack heads would be screaming about mother fucking pidgeon toes took my doppleganger to outerspace as diamond mines, shut up, fuck, fuck, go fuck yourself, you self, you don't know what you are talking about, I told you that's not what I was here for to me. You would not know what the point of what they are saying is and if it actually makes sense to them. Maybe it is the most simplified language they understand. Less is more right. The street would rumble from the R train below. It would smell like a dirty river just like the way it used to be a very long time ago before there was a street here. Everyone would be in a rush in their own way. Some people would be running scared, others would be nervously looking left and right and up and down, looking for someone, anyone who might be looking for them. Others would be walking very slowly but still in a rush with their canes scratching across the sidewalk. The two men would continue driving. They would start asking each other what are they going to do when they get there. What are they going to say? What are they going to do? One of the men says why don't we let it happen. The other man will say because I want to have the same story as you so we can make sure everything is in it's place. The other man would say that they should not plan it out too much because that is how mistakes happen when there is too much planning and ideas put into it. Naturally let it happen he would say. They would both disagree with how things should be accomplished. One would want to know every single last little detail. The other would just want to keep it all open just in case anything changes when they get there. The other man says fine. No story. We will just walk in as if nothing has happened. Like we aren't late. The other man would say ok, perfect. We aren't late. We are right on time. The man would not believe him because he well knows what time it is now and what time they were supposed to be there. They would get up to the parking garage. Push the button for the ticket and the ticket would not come out. The man would push the button again and nothing. Again and nothing. Finally the man would get very pissed off at the machine that it would pop out a ticket at the last minute. They would finally find a parking space. They would walk into the building. They would be greeted by two cups of coffee and a smile from the secretary.

{CONSULTING MY DRIVER FOR DIRECTIONS ON DRIVING}

2009-11-09T18:15:00.000-08:00

About a year ago I was looking for the keys to my 1956 Mercedes 300SL Gullwing but they were nowhere to be found. So I made a cup of tea. Took a shower. Read the last two pages of a book called: how to find your car keys in as little as ten steps for $24.99 plus shipping and handling. I couldn't believe I got suckered again into buying some book that at the end of it asked you for money if you ever wanted to find your keys again. Blasphemy I say. So I swept and mopped the floor. Walked in circles around my apartment. Cleaned the windows. Folded some blankets. Cooked some scrambled eggs. Made some coffee. Drank some water. Still I could not find my car keys. So then I went for a walk across Brooklyn. Bought an apple from a fruit vendor. Took a quick piss inside a pizza shop. Tied my shoe. Continued walking. I walked to Williamsburgh from Bushwick. The scenery changes immensely from these locations. You go from lots of trash blowing in the street to lot's of trash walking down it. The trash is more real in Bushwick though. It's a bit more authentic. Not to be judgemental or anything. I would never generalize a whole population of people; ever. Anyways, I still couldn't find my keys. It was really starting to get on my nerves. Where did I leave them. I walked into Beekmans Closet. Found a bitchin' pair of pants for under twenty bucks and a sweet lumberjack looking flannel shirt that makes me look like a cowboy. I walk down to McCarren Park and sit on a bench. I watch everyone walk by. A lady walks by with a pig. A couple walks by talking about how AC/DC and Kiss were the best thing ever to happen to rock and roll. A guy headbangs to Metallica Ride The Lightning on his walkman that is made for cassette tapes. People are drinking frozen margaritas. Other people are walking their dogs. Fixed gear bike gangs ride by. Skateboarders ride by doing various tricks that sound very loud. Kids run far away from their mothers and fathers as their mothers and fathers try and catch up to them. I walk to Manhattan Ave in Greenpoint and get a cup of coffee and go to an art gallery. I see beautiful paintings. Everyone is posh. They use big words to describe the paintings and they talk about modern art versus decorative art versus the renaissance. Everyone drinks wine. Red wine. White wine. They all whine. Jeff broke up with me for some model that models for Ford. That's ok though his photography sucks anyways. Sarah left me for some douche who plays in a band and will be touring around the world for the rest of his life. Marc Jacobs new line looks like the last line and the line before that and you even have to wait in line now to get any of the new pieces of his new line. I get so caught up in everything else that has been happening since I left my apartment that I forgot I was looking for my keys to my car. I forgot that I was going to go for a nice drive in the upstate and watch the leaves fall and see the beautiful colors that fall has to offer. This happens to me often in NYC. I set out to do one thing and then split off into a million directions and then forget what I originally set out to do in the first place. My brain has nothing good to say about anything around me. It's like a badly composed type writer that just wants to listen to how everything sucks and how everything is this way and how everything is that way and the other way and I forget that I set out with one specific idea in mind. This disappoints the hell out of me for about two seconds. So I remember. I tell myself, ok so you forgot what you were doing big deal. That's pretty normal when you have a computer for a brain. I walk back out the door. Down Manhattan Avenue to Bedford. I run into Andrew riding his bike. I run into Alex, we argue for fun for a few minutes. I run in Hannah, we talk about how each other is doing. I run into Josh, he plays a prank on me. I run into Andre riding his bike, he gives me a big hug and a kiss. I run into Ame behind him, she does the same exact thing. I run into the guy who dresses like a clown who taught me how to dance in the street to the beatles, we dance for a few minutes. I run into the lady who sells me socks for five bucks sometimes. I run into this guy I forget his name but he always remembers mine. I walk into Oslo and get a coffee. Their coffee is the best, its so rich and dark. Alex gives the best hugs from there, she has like the biggest heart in Oslo, Brooklyn. I run into Dana and give her a big hug and Yana is right behind her, I give her the biggest hug too. I walk down Broadway. The train makes loud noises. The sirens of the cop cars flying by take over. I remember now that through all this damn thinking of everything, of looking for everything. NYC really loves me. I end up back at home. The keys were on the table the whole time.

{KOMUNIST}

2009-10-26T08:11:00.000-07:00

Russia, some undisclosed year. We are at war around a giant lake. Bullets are flying past us. This is insane once again. Like always. People are dying on both sides of the enemy lines. It appear no one is winning and giant explosions just keep getting bigger and bigger. There's no winners in this war or any war that I have witnessed for that matter. I decide to drop my gun and walk away from the whole thing. Why do I want to kill? Why do I want to fight? I don;t even know why anyone is fighting in the first place. I take my bags and seek refuge in an old bunker and wait for the right moment to leave this place. When things calm down.

I am walking down the road no one is driving down. I walk to the nearest town. Buses and cars start passing by me as I get closer to a population. It is raining ever so slightly. I end up in front of an old house. I ring the door bell a few times. Then I am let in. A little girl helps me with my belongings and speaks to me in the little bit of english that she knows how. I sit down and relax for a little slice of time. The mother returns home and sees that I am in her home. She becomes very angry. She takes my bags and belongings and starts throwing it all around. The contents start flying everywhere. This pisses me off to no end. I gather everything up off of the floor and repack it into the bag. I pull out an international cellphone and make a very important phone call. Pam Sullivan answers. I tell her what is going on and she agrees to buy me a ticket out of here. I walk out of the house looking for a rid to the nearest airport. Trouble is I don't know where I am. How long I have been here. What year it is. I feel I am in a completely different period of time that is ancient. I am from the future I realize. This is way back in the past before this bodies time. A man in a van pulls up but doesn't speak a word of english and looks at me very skeptically. He takes off very fast. I continue walking down the road.

{THE HAUNTED HOUSE I SLEPT IN II}

2009-06-22T22:19:00.001-07:00

Dream: Tops of buildings. People screaming. The city is a big scream. It is nothing else.

I wake up from the dream.

there is a 3 year old on the floor in the living room, another ghost. she looks and me and speaks.

she says, scary huh? I say yeah, a little unexpected. she says, you don't have to be scared and changes from a ghost form to a physical form and hugs me. tears well up inside of my eyes and I can't believe this is really happening.

I wake up again in the living room and usually to turn on the light I have to squeeze the button down really hard and turn and it doesn't always turn on easily, I barely even touch it and the light turns on all by itself.

{THE HAUNTED HOUSE I SLEPT IN I}

2009-06-22T22:12:00.000-07:00

ZOMBIE I:

I am at a farm in the middle of Texas and it is night, the moon guides our way. I am driving in a car and there are dead living people all eating each other. I just keep driving and they just keep chasing me. They can't catch me.

ZOMBIE II:

I am in NYC inside a posh down town apartment. Really nice furniture. Beautiful gadgets and gobbledigook things everywhere. Outside you can hear the screams of people being eaten by other people who are the living dead. They start to get each other, the dead fight the living and the living fight the dead and everyone is dying in the streets. I hear them coming up the stairs. I sit on top of the fridgerator and can hear screaming children being eaten alive. I wait, I know they are coming for me next.

then, I wake up from the dream on the couch in the woodlands texas.

I see a ghost in the living room, its a baby screaming and running across the floor. it scares the fucking shit out of me.

{SURREALITY}

2009-04-06T16:57:00.000-07:00

You wouldn't believe a thing I said unless you actually had something similar happen to you and even then none of our experiences can ever be completely compared because of the interpretation of what we thought we experienced. It's so much like language, the babel of tower collapsing through the only real communication that happens with no sounds. The waker has awakened in the dream. The dream has become the reality but you can't even take my word for it. This is my experience and it doesn't really even matter whether you read this and agree or don't agree or you think I am crazy or you think I am sane or you think you know any of these things. This is mine and it can never be stolen. Its the gem inside that no one can see. It shines like the crazy diamond that pink floyd talked about. I have seen it in the eyes of the seers. It happens in the state of non-doing. I don't have any more explanations for you. The philosopher has died. The linguistic tongue twister of parody and melody and romance has died. I can't even see my own reflection anymore. The mirror broke. The wave crashed on the banks of the shore. I have died to a new day and night. The merge as the sun and the moon dance around each other in cosmic swirl of lights and silences. I can keep entertaining you with these notions but advise you to go out there and see what it's saying to you. Abyss deep. The height and expansion of the sky. The unlimited boundlessness.

{THE HERMIT DREAM}

2009-04-04T11:49:00.000-07:00

The hermit was sitting in his chair sipping on a nice hot cup of tea that he had made for himself and was lost in his dreams of these days that have gone by and passed on like those beautiful sunsets that we have experienced and continue to long for, long after they are gone. He dreamed a beautiful dream of the middle of the woods. A walking stick. A candle lit inside of lantern. Nothing but darkness all around, nothing to see. Only noises all around of nature singing its glorious song. One foot in front of the other. He couldn't even see the ground he was walking on. This is the faith that he had with the path. Who knows if he would make it to any destination but that wasn't the point of any of this. This is where it all started on that day when he erupted from the womb. Nine months inside of the mother with the umbilical cord keeping him alive. There was no guarantee that he was going to come out of the womb developed exactly the way that he needed to be. To this day we still have no knowledge of how this all came about.

Pregnant in the womb with the mother carrying the weight. That's the best thing about all mother's that is the least appreciated in the world today. We have also heard much about the orgasm and the pain that a woman experiences in childbirth. The orgasm is so intense from what we hear that it seems like she is in excruciating pain and its this mix of pleasure and pain that brings the birth. From what we hear the woman will never experience anything close to this, even with the most amazing Don Juan of the world. Thats what we have witnessed about birth and we are starting to feel that death is pretty much the same even though we don't really know the final death of the Hermit and what will happen to him. But we do know that he has been here for some time. He has been very irrational and rational, logistical and linguistical. He has been entertained with the notion of silence. The candle said to him, be a light unto your own. This light started from the moment the hermit saw the light of the day. Continued through the course into the night. Passed through the night with all of its uncertainty with only a small candle to guide the way and the intuition that he was going to make it. Then came the sunrise again. Things started taking shape all around. He saw the path again, he could see the ground. He was in the middle of the woods. The birds flew from the trees. The deer drank by the water. The leaves crunched underneath the feet. This is the hermit that exists in all of us.

{UNIVERSES}

2009-03-19T19:10:00.000-07:00

I exist in infinite universe's plus one. You cannot even fathom the number infinite plus one because it keeps on going forever and forever and ever, plus one every single time. I exist as every single person I have ever known in every single one and now I know this. I know that we are all one in each and every single one of these infinite universe's and now I have a choice of which one I would like to reside in and now I have a choice of which one I want to bring into reality and now I have a choice of which one I want to bring into my life and now I have a...

{DREAMS OF MARCH}

2009-03-19T18:58:00.000-07:00

Junkyard days from the past. I grew up near a dump, it smelled horrible. They filled it in a few years later but I remember driving on the way home all the time with mom and dad and the smell was hideous as we would pass it. All that junk and they just filled it over with some dirt. Nothing has changed when it comes to that, we just keep piling on the dirt over the junk that keeps accumulating. I used to go to the dump and smash stuff because man I have been a fucking angry person for some time now. My buddy corey and I would find bicycles, air conditioners, propane tanks, televisions, anything that was breakable. It was very refreshing to take other people's junk and take out the frustrations of growing up out on objects.

break.

Then I am at another junkyard, I have a fixed gear bike made from parts and all I need now is a rear wheel with the fixed gear and I am looking through a pile of ten speed parts and can;t seem to find one. The smell is horrible everywhere, its a burning smell inside of your nostrils. It's like in brooklyn in the industrial section.

break.

I am in a building and no one is there and there are all of these hallways, empty. There are flashing lights and apparitions running around from the past but I am in the feeling that I know that none of this really exists, I think end up on top of the building, I jump off and fly away.

break.

I am with a friend who I know pretty well but will keep nameless, we were never that close but in this dream we are very close and I am hugging her and all of a sudden we go into each other and merge and meld into one. Our eyes are shut and we are like the yin and the yan together. She smiles so much when we merge. The songs inside of her soul play so beautifully.

break.

I then am in a past relationship that is based off of sex and I am very disinterested in physical relationships now and I realize that this is just a projection of the past trying to pull me back, I start to fall for it again but then catch myself and completely walk away from it.

fin.

{CORRIDOR #UKNOWN}

2009-03-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

A tenuous light entered from the corridor and I knew I had seen it before because it was the kind of light that glows with an irredescence that no other light can seem to glow with. I had been basked in its beauty before when I was little and I remember it well or at least I have been tricked into remembering it well. I remember walking through the world with my mother. She is in another state and I am feeling alone with the alone in this big city of millions of people.

I still walk on with that light inside of me but with no direction to put it into. I am not sure what this light is all about intellectually. I know that somewhere in here it melds copper into gold but because I have not witnessed it myself a part of me still believes certainly that it is impossible to make this corridor light up and sparkle. I know that somewhere in here there are shiny diamonds and trinkets everywhere but all I seem to keep imagining are empty cobweb filled hallways with a door at the end. There are other empty rooms in the empty hallways. Those empty rooms also have other empty rooms and they are all hollowed out. You can hear echoes when you scream and even when you whisper the tiniest of whisper's.

I am that hollowed out empty vessel walking, searching through the empty rooms looking for signs of life, signs of anything to appease this loneliness of being alone with the alone. Wasting time with the time wasters. Wasting dreams with the dream chasers. It has all been fruitless. I have seen all of this before. I have seen this since 42 billion years ago and still have not gotten it right. The same empty rooms, the same empty corridors, the same empty cobwebs.

42 billions years of the same de-evolution but thinking of some upward progress. Thinking of a climb up a mountain while sitting in a chair. I am ready to walk out of that door. I am making a new one in the wall. Once through I am never coming back. I am walking into a room full of gold, trinkets of every kind that I can share with everyone who enters my house. The feeling I feel of jumping through this portal is a bit of apprehensiveness and a bit of fear but I have sailed the seven seas and there is nothing in this world that will ever be able to harm me. There is nothing in this world that will ever be able to take away what is really mine because that which is not yours will always be leaving and that which is yours is here to stay. The love that resides in this place is bigger than the sun, bigger than the moon and as small and unseen as the tiniest strand of dna that resides in us all.

{NEW VISION II}

2009-02-20T16:25:00.000-08:00

I went for a very long walk last night in my dreams and there was all these trees and all these animals following me and I was leading them but didn't really want to and I would turn back and look at them and they would stop and then I would keep walking ahead and look back to find them still following me. I did not understand why anyone would want to follow me down any of these roads. I woke up this morning agitated again, in a really pissed off mood which has been how I have been feeling lately, like a stick in the mud, stagnant, no really enjoying what I am doing. I took a bunch of series of naps today and in one of them had a dream that my life was over, this was it. I was at some gate with some person who was asking me if I wanted to stay or if I wanted to go and I chose to stay and then I woke up again in brooklyn. So there must be things I haven't finished doing here yet because I still have this feeling of leaving this body and never coming back. So if your listening and there's still things to do please show me because I have come to the point where I am all out of ideas.

{NEW VISION}

2009-02-04T07:40:00.000-08:00

Today I woke up feeling really groggy, feeling really hazy, unsure of what was going to happen through the course of the day. I woke up thinking this was the end, this was it, that there was nothing else that could happen for me that would be good. Then I had a conversation with a friend and he reminded me of clarity. He reminded me that life is in our hands, we are responsible for everything that we are putting ourselves through. I am the creator of my life, I create the facts of my life. I create the situations and the reality that I live in and I have been doing this my whole entire life. I have created every single situation no matter what it was, so now that I know that I have created every situation in my entire life I am creating a new reality, one where I live abundantly, one where I get everything I have ever wanted, one where I live effortlessly and easily and can move right through the things that I have always wanted. A life where I totally agree to the certainty of all situations that are positive. One where I am completely aware of every decision and choice I am making. Here is the list of the way I live now:

1. I live in my dream apartment in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
2. I can buy all of the things (and expensive instruments) that I want to
have fun with, make music with and enjoy.
3. I buy my friends things they enjoy for "Just Because" gifts.
4. I do what I want, when I want.
5. I take vacations worldwide and see things I have always dreamt about.
6. I am able to give my family and friends the life I've always wanted
them to have.
7. I'm able to make large donations to local and national charities.
8. I am able to make an endless amount of income.
9. I have no financial worries and I am completely secure and happy.
10. I finally have the time to help others succeed

{1,136,000}

2009-02-02T08:00:00.000-08:00

and then I was walking down the street in a lucid stupor, everything was beautiful like the way a daydream is. The air was perfect, it blew right through the lungs inside my body. My heart beat with the whole beat of the whole city. The legs walked in the same timing. It was like music. The soundtrack that no one hears. I come across a big trunk in the middle of the city and its buried in the ground a little, half exposed so I shovel the rest of the remaining parts of the under exposed trunk, there's no lock on it so I open it and inside is 1,136,000 dollars all freshly and neatly packed like someone had left it there for someone to find.

{NOT AT HOME IN THE HOSPITAL}

2009-01-31T18:42:00.000-08:00

Another dream in an old hospital in the fifties. Everything has a blue tint to it and all of the people that I can see running the place are very zombie like. They don't see me at all even as I walk right by. They are somewhere else when I look at them. I go to a room where an old friend of mine, Megan is sitting on a table waiting for a Dr. to come and take a look at her. Her hair is all messy and all over the place. She says that she has some sort of disease and she's waiting to be cured but I tell her she already is, the disease is all in her head and she lights up instantly. We start to walk out of the hospital and there is a feeling that comes in the gut that the Dr. knows that we have left. People start to run out of the hospital after us, they start to chase us telling us we are going the wrong way. I know that this is not true because the next thought that comes to mind is: when is the last time I ever knew a Dr. to have any interested in my good health? The Dr. is really good at telling me everything that is wrong with me but will he ever tell me anything that is right? So we run. We end up in a very large pyramid structure and we go deep into the belly of it, into the center of it. Up top is an opening and I realize at the top is a clock tower of some sort and the clock has stopped. Time has ceased to exist at this point. We climb up ladders and stairs and end up in the eye of heaven.

{LIGHTNING OF AWARENESS}

2009-01-31T01:41:00.000-08:00

We are in the house and I only know it because I am looking out of two windows. Its 4:42 am and this is really happening. This is really happening somewhere else inside this house that I am looking out of. We are having a conversation only I don't know what it is about. Then there it is in the sky. An airplane. It is falling, falling, then it crashes right into the hill. Right into the tops of the trees and its raining and there's electrical towers all around that have fallen. The wires are jumping all over the place and people are screaming and I am running out of the house across the street and into the woods to help. I am running down the hill. There's people running up and I tell them to go into the house and she will help you. She will be able to clean you up, stitch you up. I understand how this feels. It's a thunder and lightning storm at the same time and I am rounding up people sending them up the hill. The airplane is on fire and people are still jumping out of it onto the hill and running up the hill. The lightning wants to hit me but I see it, I am very aware of it's presence as if it is alive. I work around the lightning, I work around the electrical wires. There is a dog. It's scared. It's going out of control, running this way and that, attempting to bite people but I grab it by its collar and settle it down. Everyone is yelling for me to climb the hill, everyone is out and safe, the airplane is going to explode, the electrical wires are going to fry and the storm is going to keep going. I run up the hill, into the house and everyone is safe.

{DECEMBER 1ST 2003}

2009-01-30T08:39:00.000-08:00

It was a snowy morning and I was grounding up the coffee beans for the french press and almost could taste the flavor through the aroma of the oils coming off of the beans as the crushed each other into oblivion. I remember this morning like no other morning I had ever experienced. I was so fucking tired of being broke all the time and constantly thinking about money, everything money, this money, that money. I was thinking so much about money that I thought it had something to do with my happiness. It was very pathetic. Little did I know that this morning would show me something about this realization that would blow my mind right out of my fucking head. I was very worried about not being able to pay the rent because two weeks previous I had been working at a bar in Boston and the bar got shut down because our manager got caught embezzling ten or fifteen thousand dollars to support his crystal meth habit and its funny how all of this worked itself out too because the night before this had happened he went bezerk on me for no reason at all. I knew he was acting very strange from his behavior, he was like a hurricane running through the place yelling and screaming at people for no reason at all. On the binge, on the edge of the addiction. I burst into tears this night and fell into pieces because it reminded me so much of where I had been in my life in the past with being yelled and screamed at all the time for no reason. After this happened Tina brought me out to this bar and we had a drink with a few people from the bar and I was so pissed off. I had a glass of wine and cooled down then I walked home. Along the way I had all of these thoughts of smashing this guys face in with a baseball bat or breaking his legs and watching him try to walk. During this point in my life I wanted nothing more than to torture, maim or even kill every person in the world who inflicted any kind of pain on me. It was the past creeping up in my body and mind. Those old ghosts reminding me of where I had been. So enough of that kind of intensity because everything worked itself out the next day. The owner of the bar showed up and he was this big wig mafioso guy from south boston. He started taking shit over again. The manager who stole the money had fled and was nowhere to be found. I don't even know what happened since these days. So back to my morning coffee. I added the hot water to my ground up beans and it started steaming everywhere filling up the apartment I lived at on royal street in lower allston. I decided I was going to let go of all ideas of money and just say fuck it, what does it matter if I think about how much money I don't have or how much money that I do have. Its useless and hasn't gotten me anywhere in the twenty three years I had been on the earth at that time. So I finished my coffee and put my jacket on and such and walked out the door to go to the bar to paint it. Since Jack had gotten back he decided he was going to turn the place into an upscale bar, a place for wise guys to go to and drink their hard liquor and bang their broads and live that whole life you see in the movies about the old italian mobster guys. It's funny too that this was what was going on because the place actually had been that kind of place way back in the fifties and some of the older crowd who came in for drinks would tell me stories all about it. It was a private gentlemen's club where five guys ran it and only let it other wise guys from the neighborhood. So I am walking out the door and its snowing a little bit and the streets are a ghost town, its cold outside and a little tiny tiny wind is blowing. I get to the end of royal street and just like in a dream there are twenty dollar bills blowing everywhere in the wind. Spiraling like a tornado and I am like holy shit is this a dream. I pinch myself to see and the pinch hurts so I know this is real. I run and start grabbing the money blowing in the wind. Its amazing. When I make a movie this is going to definitely be a scene. I run to the train with a big wad of cash in hand and count it on the way and realize that it is five hundred dollars. five hundred dollars blowing in the wind and my rent is five hundred and I had nothing to put towards it that day until this happened. Every time I recollect this story, I find money.

{THE PSYCHIC}

2009-01-29T20:24:00.000-08:00

And so I am walking down the street no longer thinking about the night or where it should go or where it is going to go or anything really and I am laughing fucking hysterically for no reason at all. Not just laughing like ha, that’s kind of funny but fucking laughing my face right off. My face melts into a million pieces and its like wax dripping on skin. It melts right on the floor and no I am not on any drugs at all. I don’t do things like that anymore. I’d say if anything I am in a permanent state of psychadelic-ness. The whole world shimmers and shines all around me and birds and bats fly all around like I am in the epicenter of heaven and the hell is all around me, outside of my perimeter at this point. So anyways before I dress up this huge story about how all this stuff is happening around me I will just give it to you softly. I just ramble, I decided that is how I am going to write from now, a big huge fucking ramble and there will be some stuff in here you will like and laugh about or cry about or whatever you think it is, I don’t care, I write this to amuse myself and if your amused then great, that’s great. So I walk down under the ground and swipe the weekly metro card I usually buy every week. Wow what a surprise. A weekly metro card that I buy weekly. I am so smart when I write stories. So I walk and I go over to look at the map to see what’s new on it and there’s nothing and there’s people playing music and some guy dressed up like Michael Jackson dancing all this and that; doing the whole thriller thing all over again. It’s the same shit we have seen a million times. Its funny. Its cute. He’s on his toes, he’s the man with the glasses and everything. Then I see Steph sitting on the bench. I haven’t seen her in like years or something I don’t remember the last time I ran into her. She’s all dressed up for war but says she came out of yoga and she’s got a little sweat on her brow. It’s funny how this always happens. You walk down the street, things happen. You see people you haven’t seen in awhile. People see you. They are so happy. We ride the train and talk about the changes that have happened in our lives and how much we have grown from little sprouts to blooming flowers or something. Its fun. We laugh, we cry, we eat popcorn like in the movies on the train. No wait I added that, we really didn’t eat popcorn but it sounds good. It would be very cool if we ate popcorn and we had our own seats and we watched the movie that takes place on the L train every day. It’s a fucking hilarious movie. Its like the time I saw last week when these people were on acid or something and they were laughing their heads off and screaming and they had no clue what was going on and then this guy started fucking with them while they were tripping because he knew what was going on. He knew it all. They flipped the fuck out and started trying to steal people’s shoes and all that jazz. So we kept going. We got off at Graham and walked for like a second and parted and then I saw a psychic place and I just walked by and thought nothing of it but then something said go in, see what’s up. I wanted to ask her a question about crystals. I am interested in crystals. She didn’t want to answer my question without doing some form of business. She started telling me I am doubting things and that I can’t make decisions in my life and all this rubbish. I said lady listen I also have the same gift you do too. You don’t need to try and sell me my consciousness. I already have it and what you tell me right now is only going to be a projection and then I will take it into my consciousness and then it will come true and be real. Its no secret to me. She rolled her eyes and got annoyed with me which definitely led me even more to realize that she knew that I knew, she opened the door for me and said ok honey, you can go and I said aww thank you. Your letting me go, have a nice night. And that’s how it went. I laughed and then called Alex to tell her al about it. I said I would write this. Then I did.

{THE DARK SIDE OF THE SUN}

2009-01-26T16:11:00.000-08:00

And then Nasa said that they found the dark side to the sun. They never had seen this side of it before, they were always only looking on the bright side and I can say the same for myself. This was one of the biggest discoveries ever known to man inside of himself and outside in the far reaches of that infinite space that they always talk about. Everything in every reach of the outer and inner potential has a light and a dark side and it surprises me that they are just starting to realize this now but the most important part is that there is no way to separate them and make them into fragments or find the differences between any of it because if you try and do this then you negate the whole picture, the whole form, the whole existence of it and that is something I now realize through my own space exploration. I have been to the far reaches up to this point of my own discovery and am ready to move on from it and go even further, to places that no one has been to yet and I am going to take it all with me. I am going to be having a marriage for the positive and the negative they love each other so much now that both of them become one and you cannot even tell the difference any more of what you may think they are. They only appear to be one way to you because you still use your intellect to place them into places that they don't even belong to be placed into. They are breaking out of the box. They are moving into the groove. They are getting in the zone. You won't be able to stop them even if you try to because there is no stopping something that has to force and velocity of the whole of existence. To try and stop the whole of existence is to cancel yourself out too because without you, with me and without everyone we know all around us there is just this space, this place with no one to give it a name or to give it a meaning or to see it with their own eyes or to breathe it with their own breath or to write it in their own words, in their own tongues. The universe started with silence and nothing around and then it was conscious of itself and then it spoke, it spoke in a language that was much different from the language we speak now. It was a much simpler language not all garbled up with fancy words or colorful language to hide the real truth of what was behind the words. There was no man behind the curtain. There was no hero, there was no villain. No one was trying to steal anything or save anything. The world became the world. The sun became the sun. The planets all danced around in great joy and ectasy for the celebration that everything was new and innocent and fresh. This was the beginning. It all started with silence and nothingness. It never started with a bang. That bang was when everything went wrong. That bang was the whole reason for the discontinuity of the whole of everything, of the possibility for everything. Once that bang happened, everyone got scared. Everyone was afraid of loud noises and then they made very large signs that said soft noises good, loud noises bad. Then the loud noise people went their way and the soft noise people went theirs and there was a huge protest and people killed the loud people softly and the other people killed the soft people loudly. Everything became a giant mess. People started to clean up the mess. Then people protested on the killing of both people, some protested on the cleaning up of the mess, some protested on leaving the mess as it is to show that messes are no good, so they killed more and more and more and then people killed because they said that killing is wrong so we should make an example of these heathens who kill, so we got together and we killed the killers to show that killing is wrong and this made the people who watched into their own type of killer, the enraged people who watched killing of killing people and then the earth stood still. Time stood still. It got that bad that time had to stand still. It got sick of watching on a watch. Watching all this craziness happen. It stood still. Everything they once had was taken away. Once it was taken away, they started to realize what they had and once they started to realize what they had they wanted it back but it was gone. It was long gone because time had said in silence that it was time to move into a new time and let go of the old time. The old time had passed away and before it passed away it gave birth to a new time. It celebrated. It had awakened into this new time and the time is now. The new time started telling everyone glorious things. It started to show itself everywhere even if it didn't want to be seen. It started to speak through this new consciousness but it had been there all along. It had been there all along only no one realized it but once they started to realize it the new time finally let them know that actually a new time had not even been born it was the same time that had already existed the whole time since the beginning only it was recognized as new time because people hadn't been looking at it with the same eyes anymore. These new eyes were the same eyes that had been here all along. These new eyes said remember who you have always been, what you have always wanted and follow the sun and follow the moon in its every which way, in its night and its day and never stop until you know the whole and that is just what it is doing and not doing at the same exact moment.

{THE DESTROYER}

2009-01-21T20:55:00.000-08:00

Just woke up from a dream just now about a small town, a small world, a small frame of mind still clutching and grasping and holding onto the past and in this dream I played a character who destroyed everything in his path. Everyone wanted to stop me, they kept saying don't do this you will die, don't do that you will get hurt, don't do this something will happen, don't do that you are going against everything. I realized one thing as I was on this rampage. I realized that these are all just ideas in our heads and we want to impose them on other people based on fear. No one in the dream could prove what they were saying, they were all saying speculative things about something that had nothing to do with me. Along the whole way it was fear speaking. Fear telling me to hold onto things that can either die now or we will hold onto for dear life our whole lives and die with. There is no certain path for life. There is no pattern to follow. There is no one person in this world to follow. There is the world, there is you, there is a feeling inside of you and you know it's there because either you will be talking against that feeling inside of you or you will be thinking against that thought inside of you or you will be doing an action that goes against that thought or you will be destroying your body against that thing that exists in you or you will go for it and you will let no one, nothing stop you. You are the very thing you have always wanted to come home to, every day, every moment. My next part of the dream was the church trying to capture me and make me a reverend, they wanted me to talk about god but only the way that they wanted to display it, a tired old story that needs to be buried. The novel called the bible was very well written and I am sure it probably helps a lot of people cope and understand with things that happen in life but it hasn't hugged a person when they have needed a hug in a restaurant, it hasn't had a conversation with someone who really just wanted to talk to someone that day, it hasn't given it's last money away when someone was starving and you just ate, it hasn't done anything to help humanity but confuse humanity as to the biggest, amazing potential that the human being is capable of. When the church finally caught up with me I had smashed one of their cars for chasing me and the reverend of the church came up to me with so much anger and hostility in his eyes and I said to him is it not you before me with anger in his eyes who talks about loving one another, about all these words of god that now are burning away from you. Is it not you who talks more about talking and less walk of the walking. This was a very symbolic moment in the story that really speaks to me, it is about facing your own mirror and setting yourself free and that reverend in the dream was me. He started crying and said that I was right, he has not known what love is and at that moment he started crying he was free. Organized religion was destroyed and everyone came running out of the church throwing their clothes off and showing their true humanity. We are the creators, we create our own lives, we create every situation by calling it, by saying what it is, by feeling it, by seeing it, by experiencing it and it enters into our consciousness and physically turns into an experience. This can happen in an instance. The idea of god is dead. The potential of god exists here now inside of you, but you don;t have to take my word for it.

Andrew W. Mathis - "It is bad luck to be superstitious."

{HERE, PRESENT}

2009-01-21T15:45:00.001-08:00

I have found that if you wait for someone else to do something for you or you wait for someone else to give you something you already possess then life is very difficult and nothing happens that you will take responsibility for. You are responsible for your own choices and decisions. Freedom is your own choice and no one else's, Love is your own choice and no one else's. The same people who say that they will give you something will disappoint you one day because there is a possibility that what is given to you from someone can be taken away and that which you do not own cannot be taken away. I wish Obama the best and everyone else in this world but the whole world is in the condition that it is in because people have not taken the time to realize their own potential, they have not taken time to cultivate what is inside. These are not things that anyone else has the ability to give you, the will and the desire of who you are and what you want is the only way. Then it is possible that things will start to happen on its own accord. I cannot change anything that happens outside of me because it was never mine to begin with or change. If people want to kill people they will kill people, if people want to steal things they will steal things, if they want to lie, they will lie, they will do whatever it is that they want and we can continue to fight with them and try to tell them what they should do and be right on the opposite side of the very thing that is causing so much disharmony. If we want to see anything change in this world we need to become less identified with objects, paperwork, computer programs, stock markets, credit cards etc etc and more concerned with the way of humanity, with the love that is deep in our hearts and it is here now, are you? If you are here now then where else can you be? Can you not think about other things? Do you trust who you are? Do you trust what you say? Do you trust what you do? Can you move outside of the game?

"Change your thoughts and you change your world. This is what Norman Vincent Peale said and I agree somewhat with what he is saying, I would like to propose a new idea for this and would like to see the idea become more than an idea: Stop your thinking, see what you thought, realize it all as the experience, as the watcher and as the doer, see where that get's you.

{INAUGURATION DAY MISHAPS}

2009-01-21T15:26:00.000-08:00

I tried to write about this experience in a way to suck you in and give you all the details of how I felt about it and how the air was and what happened but I got tired of trying to dress up everything with a bunch of words and aesthetic tones. So instead I am just going to tell you the list of events that I remember. Ready, ok. We got up at 5 a.m. It was fucking cold. The wind blew like crazy. We walked for an hour and got down to the front lawn of the white house. I had no gloves on so my hands almost fell off. I was very tired and moody. That's a surprise. The wind continued to blow like crazy. I continued to get cold, so cold that I could feel the skeleton inside of my body and I could feel the whole insides of my brain. I wanted so badly to have a pair of gloves and as we walked my wish came true. We found mismatched ones here and there and everywhere. Then a really nice man gave me a heat pack to put inside my pocket to warm up my hand. This helped a lot. Then we found a great spot real up close to the white house. There were way too many people. My toes started to feel like they were going to freeze off so I decided to leave and walk back. I started walking back and people were running forward, some people even asked me why I was going the other way and I said I was done following the crowd. One guy laughed hard when I said this, I didn't think it was that funny but he seemed to. Checkpoint after checkpoint I had to empty my pockets and let them use the metal detector on me. I didn't know the way back to the apartment but let my inner compass guide me and I walked all the way there in the right direction the whole time without asking anyone for directions which amazed me seeing how I had no clue as to how washington dc was set up. I went back to sleep after I unthawed for an hour and slept the whole rest of the day away while the inauguration took place. I still don't even know what was talked about or what happened that day and I don't really care.

{CHINATOWN BUS TO WASH DC}

2009-01-19T18:51:00.000-08:00

It was snowing today and it made everything all around the city really grey and tired looking or maybe that is just how I felt inside. We were on our way to the chinatown bus without any kind of plan as to when we were going to go, how much it was going to cost or anything but we knew this is was we were going to do. It was a great opportunity to take pictures crystal said. I said hell yes, I want to get a shot of Obama, that'd be sweet. So we walked through all the snow, all the traffic, the chinese people talking like daggers through ice. We arrived to the bus and immediately police officers pulled right in front of the bus and we both looked at each other like holy hell what the fuck is going on? The cops got out and started giving the bus driver a hard time for not having a license plate on the front of the bus and instead having a temporary one on the side. This guy was a pro, he knew how the drill went so he let it all unfold and take its place, meanwhile a lady in a wheelchair was screaming this that and the other thing about how people who don't have license plates on the front of the buses should never drive because you might get into an accident and who knows what is going to happen if you get into an accident and to hear this lady say this over and over again was really fucking annoying. The police were doing their thing, the driver was waiting knowing that they were just doing their job and then this lady in a wheelchair with nothing better to do sticks her nose in the business and starts wheeling around like she knows what the fuck is going on and I have nothing against anyone who has any condition of their life, I am a very compassionate person but I could just tell that this lady had nothing better to do and enjoyed this sort of thing, complaining. Then once she started complaining another lady almost got hit by a small chinese woman dragging her cart of groceries then she started complaining about how the lady wasn't watching where she was going yet the lady was blocking the whole sidewalk not allowing traffic to move through it. It's always someone else's fault in this world. If you can't see how you have anything to do with it then blame it on someone else. So much easier. We entered the bus with a holy hell what is going to happen next kind of feeling. It smelled like shit. Smelled so much like shit I wanted to throw up. We sat and waited and waited and waited, then these people got on the bus, then more people got on the bus and it was almost full. Then these kids got on and started yelling at each other and one of them seemed really drunk and carrying a water bottle full of orange juice and he was pissed that the other kid in the back didn't save everyone a seat like it was his job that he was supposed to make sure that he who was not prepared to be there should get a seat before anyone else. So the king of fuck mountain started punching the other kid because the other kid said yo, son it aint my fault and he said yo don't call me son, I aint your son and then they fight. They fight, they fight and fight and everyone has Obama apparel on and is going to see the inauguration that takes place the next day and they are doing this shit. What the fuck is this shit, you are all going to see the big changes in the world that are happening and you want to be apart of it but you are doing the same shit that everyone has done to you, turning against your own brothers and sisters to fight for some shit that inevitably was your own fault. Class is in session, take note of things, be prepared and be ready, the test is always. So we get off the bus because there's blood flying, there's yelling and screaming, Martin Luther Kind himself would be saddened by this sort of behavior, its everything he was talking about in those days and still nothing has changed. So we got off this bus and went to the bus in the back where we rode for 8 hours, the time it would take to go to europe with the heat blasted on high and I sweat my ass right off. I actually don't have an ass I am sitting on right now as I write this. Congratulations you are an idiot. So that's it kids, welcome to this crazy world I am writing right now that I interpreted as what was going on. Please read this in a way that it can make you laugh and take no offense because life is funny and it is always happening. I am in DC now and am getting ready to go see what is going on. I bid you a good night.

{OK|SO}

2009-01-18T18:07:00.000-08:00

I can see it all now. I can see that I have passed through that midpoint again where everything was reversed like the tarot card meanings. I am starting to see the patterns in all of the cycles that life takes. I am the fool traveling through life walking to the cliffs edge, getting into as much trouble as possible, causing so much mischief and then inevitably having to laugh everything off after it all happens. Having to show people that things are fucking hilarious and not everything should be taken so seriously. Who should have the last laugh, you or death? I say fuck it, laugh death right in the face. God is a comedian and the universe likes a good laugh especially when it is at your own expense. It’s a hell of a view way up there on the edge of the cliff of the mountain you have just climbed and there’s a fucking dog following you everywhere. What goes up must come down though, so if you climb way the hell up the mountain you have to eventually come back down into the valley again and find the next mountain to climb. I came down and ripped the experience into a million pieces with such a precise and extreme attention to detail that it ends up doing that same thing to you. It shows you everything and you laugh with it or it laughs at you. After the climb you become the magician with the infinity symbol hanging above your head and you have the power to create something out of nothing but you have to meet this guy in the valley along the way that shows you the skill. He throws the serpent at you and it changes and turns into a cloth and that’s when you see if you are scared of the illusion or not. So that is it, that’s where I am at for today.

{CHANGE WE CAN BELIEVE IN}

2009-01-18T12:10:00.000-08:00

It saddens me to report that the change we could believe in has been replaced with our regularly scheduled program called sit around and wait for something to happen, anything. We were going to tell you to believe in something that might happen if you were willing to believe in what we tell you but instead we replaced it with your favorite show and while you are sitting there can you please pass the remote I might want to change the channel to watching the time pass one of my favorite past times or oh oh oh, look, history and its historical allegorical interpretations that have nothing to do with me yet I keep making it have something to do with me because I can't look at my own sad history of nothing going on. Absurdly though people, when are we going to wake up to the fact that you can see throughout the two hundred some odd history that we have in this country that no politician will ever be able to give you anything that you don't already possess, when are we going to wake up and realize the same thing about the religious zealots, the right wing, the left wing, air force one, the plane that crashed into the hudson river the other day while trying to plow through the natural migrative course that birds fly in and other such things. You can ask me if I have the answer and I will tell you I most certainly don't have the answer for you because you are you, I am me and we are we. This brings me back to a memory of when I used to shit in my diaper and my mom used to change it for me, I was so helpless and fragile like most babies but we are all grown up now kids, when are we going to stop shitting ourselves and waiting for someone else to change our pants for us?

{A CONVERSATION WITH A HOMELESS MAN ABOUT PIGEONS}

2009-01-18T12:06:00.000-08:00

Did you see that mother-fucking shit! Mother-fucking pigeon came outta nowhere all flappin his wings and shit like he owns the ground or some shit and that mother-fucker didn’t see the shit coming but the mother-fucking car came outta the mother-fucking nowhere and hit that motherfucker into the next decade. That motherfucker aint got no wings no more. I cant even believe that shit happened. You’d think that if you got wings you’d be flying way up in the mother-fuckin sky or some shit. Lemme ask you something, you got any money? Give me a dollar, that was a good story right? I just told you one of the best mother-fucking stories you going to hear all day. Gimme a dollar so I can get a coffee. You aint ever heard shit as original as this shit.

{A CONVERSATION WITH A ABOUT PRESIDENTS}

2009-01-18T12:05:00.002-08:00

I’ll tell you about the presidents. First of all, one of them is a woman. I’m not going to go and second of all one of them is black but a real fucking prick would do that. However, I will tell you about that too. First of all one of them is a woman. It’s not in the blood for the woman to be the leader. Particularly, a woman to be the leader of men. Whether she’s got a better heart Whether she’s smarter. Whether she’s more powerful than a lot of men is not really a debate-able issue but a woman leading this country? You know the people that’ll fucking laugh at us? Look at the last woman that tried. She got shot poking her head out of the roof of her fucking car. I’m not saying that’s ok. I’m not saying that’s right but this is America. I think it would be a bit of a joke. I mean yeah, we are liberal. Yeah, we are progressive. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. But. Last I checked the fucking men ran the armies. Violence wrong or right. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. The men started building businesses. The men go out and take care of fucking business. To have a woman running the country, as progressive as it is. I don’t think is something that is going to work out. I don’t think its in the blood, like I said. I don’t think its in their nature. Who knows though. Barack Obama, probably a good guy. I’m afraid he’s going to win. I hope he’s a good guy. How many fucking people do you see in NYC that are really taking care of business. That really clean shop. That really run corporations. That really have some balls. That really are thinking properly. Forget about the fact that these people aren’t even any different from any other person. That’s why I want a whole new president. I want a president that says; you know what?

{A CONVERSATION WITH A}

2009-01-18T12:05:00.001-08:00

Because the other night I went over there and decided that I was going to come clean, you know. I figured come clean, because I’m tired. I’m tired of running game you know what I’m saying, because my game isn’t really that great and they all know I’m playing a game. So fuck it. So I told her about everything. I told her about how I’ve been seeing other girls and all that and she felt the appropriate emotion, which is what I would say is sorry. She felt sorry for me. We all love when people feel sorry for us, don’t we? Instead of getting mad at me and smacking me, which is what she could’ve, should’ve, maybe would’ve done had she been someone else. So I told her that I’ve been seeing these other girls and I see you sometimes and I don’t really know what all of the point of this is and I don’t know if it is going anywhere and then last night she started flipping out because, you know, she decided she liked me and that she wanted things to work out but I wasn’t really doing it because I never really do it but I said to her I’m not really doing it and I think that’s what got her really upset. Today I called her and all she did was talk and then I said; your not really listening, she never really listens. Then she started listening and told me that she stayed home from work and she asked me why did you come over that night and tell me all of those things? I said, I think I had to for you to stay away and I think I need you to stay away because I can’t do it anymore and we can just take it like that.

That’s the story?

That’s not the whole story, that’s just the ending, that’s like the last part.

That’s for today?

Yeah, that’ll be like the last part of the whole part and you can record at the last part of the first part.

Ok, then next question.
How did you guys meet?

Ok, hold on a second. Let me get it together.
--
Ok, so B and I were out and I saw her from behind. I didn’t see her behind but I saw her from behind and she had on this striped shirt and I liked the shirt and I could just tell. I hadn’t even seen her face. I hadn’t even seen her ass. I could just tell. I’m going to get into this and see what happens. So I see her at the bar and I ask her some dumb question like do you know anything about the band playing tonight? She didn’t know anything about the band and we just kept talking. Then, you know. I got her number. I was pretty psyched that I got her number. I thought she was very attractive. So a couple of days later or the next day later or whatever, I don’t think I gave it a three day rule or any of that bullshit, I called her up. She was down to hang out. So I told her I’d pick her up. Little did I know that she lived on 64th street in Manhattan, So, I was approaching Columbus Circle and she’s somewhere there and I’m driving in circles, metaphorically of course and literally, The, there she is. She gets into the car. She smells nice. She looks pretty but she’s sort of different looking too. So, we go to this bar Freddy’s. It’s in Park Slope. We end up in Park Slope somehow. What did we do? How did we end up there? Actually. Wait, I might have taken her to grimaldi’s. Kicking it romantic style under the Brooklyn Bridge. You know, cause I am a hopeless romantic. So right away I’m putting on the moves as like I’m going to marry this girl. We do it real romantic and I am scoring points that I didn’t even mean to be scoring but maybe I did because I love trouble and I seem to have found trouble. More than I would have ever known about in that point in time. So then we go to freddy’s. We get a couple of beers. It’s good. It’s just going good. She’s pretty crazy. She’s intense. I’m crazy. I’m pretty intense. So we decide to go to the movies. We stop and buy some alcohol before we get into the movies. We are drinking in the movie theatre. We’re making out in the movie theatre. We’re going crazy. It’s all going. We go back to my house. It keeps going. I never usually bust more than one nut. That’s just not what I do. I like to do it and you know go to sleep. I guess ideally I like to do it and then you know leave because I am a dirty dog. Really. From a hopeless romantic to a dirty dog but no we go again and again, then she sleeps over. Then she wakes up in my loft and there’s kids living there cause I’m twenty-six and there’s a twenty-two year old. Remember too, she lives on 64th street. This is an uptown girl with an $1800 a month tiny apartment, making $70,000 a year. Which is a lot of money if you ask me. Now she’s at this crazy guys loft in Park Slope and she loves it. She’s slumming it. She thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. So we wake up. Probably did it again. I don’t even remember. We hang out. We go to lunch and before you know it, it turns into a twenty-four hour date and you know; how do you feel after that? That’s not an everyday occurrence. Not in my life anyways do you find good people you have a good time with and just all that stuff. It’s just crazy. That’s just the beginning.

{THE PRISON CAMPS}

2009-01-18T12:01:00.000-08:00

We flew down the old dirt road towards the prison camps at high velocities. Bill was driving in front in a small yellow Volvo and I was driving my mother’s gold Chrysler station wagon. It was dark out and we usually took this way as a short cut for fun because you could drive through where part of the civil war had taken place many, many years ago. The woods had a very eerie feeling going through them at night because this was literally in the middle of nowhere with not one person in sight. If you broke down out here you were going to be spending a nice night alone. So it was us, the open road and nothing in sight because the road unfolded the more you drove on it, but we had done this so many times before that it was old hat to us. Sandy was riding in the car I was driving and if my memory serves me correct it was Terry with Bill in the other car. We were flying around one corner in the road and I didn’t realize it but the tires were really bald on the car I was driving, we went off of the road, hit a giant rock and flipped the car onto its roof, the radio blared really loudly, we hung from our seatbelts upside down and the only thing I was thinking about was Sandy and if she was ok. All of the change that had been on the floor was now on the ceiling. The little rocks, the papers and road maps everything was upside down. The tires were still spinning above us, the windshield had collapsed inward and had come very close to crushing my skull in. We were lucky. We did something very crazy and lived to tell the tale. This near death experience would be one of the very first in my life where I didn’t care any more what was going to happen next. Another thing that happened another time in the prison camps that is not related to this that I can tell you about is the time that Sandy and I went down into the ground where there were these long tunnels that went to nowhere and one of them had this big incinerator at the end of it and it was very dark and reminded me of dreams that I used to have of the holocaust where I was a little boy.

{AND ANOTHER MEMORY}

2009-01-16T12:46:00.000-08:00

This one time I was on the school bus going home with the kids and I was in this state of anger and frustration and one of my friends was sitting with me and he had a black magic marker so we decided to write on the seats. He wrote GNR which stood for guns and roses and I decided to take it all the way and write "fuck you" in very large letters, as big as I could get them I remember. This was my outlet, my way of dealing with all of the things that just didn't seem right around me. I wanted so badly just to really say it out loud to everyone but instead the silence was killing me, so I did it silently to top it off. I feel this has been a lifelong theme. Silent destruction and being pissed off at the world and the way that it is but all I can really do now is sit back, eat some popcorn and let it perpetuate itself. I watch it collapse on its own foundation. I watch it like a movie and know that I can't do anything to change how other people view their lives and what they do with what they decided and what they chose for things that happen to them. It killed this part of me that needed to die. The projector is going. Everything that was buried from these times I have dug up and looked at and burned away for good. I have felt like I have been throwing the ashes into outer space where they will never be reached again. They fly through the nearest black hole. Get sucked up and disappear forever from this life.

So here we are now in NYC now reliving all these old scenes from inside my head of this one time that I had fucked everything up all in one moment only to make a huge wave that would end up knocking us down onto our asses. One year later. Seventeen years later, it never mattered about the time. It fell apart again. So surreal and so connected when it was on only to blow up right in our fucking faces. I know that theres something better out there now because it was never out there in the first place. The vacuum of space is taking it all away and although you can't erase the past, you can rewrite the present. It's all a done deal. It's already happened when you want it to. I now understand how hungry we are for happiness.

{ANOTHER MEMORY}

2009-01-16T12:11:00.000-08:00

I remember she came over to the house one day and we all hung out. Mom made coffee for both of them and I played with some sort of matchbox car or something. I knew things were changing, I could feel it somehow. More and more every day. Then roughly a month later that's when the new man started arriving. Before this new man, there was another man before. He was the donor of my brother. I don't remember him too much at all. I only remember one night standing next to my brother's crib and watching him sleep. I don't really know why I did it but it was very interesting. I remember seeing big flashes of white light this one night while I stood over him. To this day I will never really know what happened. So the next moment the new man is in mom's and he's appearing more and more frequently. This started to make me feel a little uneasy because before all this it had been just mom, brother and I. I would have liked to written more about my brother but I have seemed to forgot a lot of the different memories from these days.

So the next moment of change began. We moved to Ware, Massachusetts. Definitely a big change. This is when I started to become even more aware of the understanding of life up to that point. I understood that we were on, we were things that had some sort of idea that something was going on and we were apart of it. I remember the guy across the street raking leaves in front of his house. Fall and winter I remember the most of this place. I remember these seasons were the most when the man's behavior changed the most. There was this one night when I was sleeping on the top bunk of the bed and I was awakened by the man hitting me really hard in the face and hitting me in the stomach. Why he was doing this I am not sure of. I cried for most of the night through after this happened. I always wondered if my brother heard what happened that night because we never spoke about any of those things that happened in the middle of the night. The man started drinking more and more and started coming home later and later. I remember frequently waking up late at night with really bad growing pains in my legs. Everyone was wondering why I was up so late. It hurt so much to be able to sleep but at the same time I was so sleepy, like sleep walking. There was this other time I was walking around the streets by myself which is what I did most days that we didn't have to go to school. There wasn't much else to do in this shitty factor town loaded with drugs and misery. As I walked the streets I must have been about 10 years old or so. This one day I was walking I found a baby walking in the middle of the street in a diaper all by itself. I didn't know what to do for the baby but my intuition told me to put it in someone's yard where there was a gate that was open and a door also open to an apartment. There were people inside making a lot of loud noises. I always hoped that was the right decision in that time. I was too young to know what to do. I kept that memory to myself for so long and just remembered it now. Growing up in this small town showed me some of the darkest things that exist in people. I started to affect how I viewed people. How I viewed the kids at school, the kids on the street, the teachers, the bus drivers, the principals, the guy downstairs, mom, stepdad, brother, sister, and many other people I can barely remember. It built up so much inside of me that I started to withdraw even more than usual, I became more interested in what I could do alone. I started hanging out in the woods with the birds, watching the kids pass through and they would always ask me what I was doing out there hanging out all by myself. I wouldn't say much, I was just feel the wind, I would watch it flow over the ferns and watch the river flow over all of the junk that people threw in it.

{MEMORIES PASSED}

2009-01-12T18:13:00.000-08:00

What will happen when we have let go of the past and the future completely? Will we really live? These ideas really get me thinking about the structures of this systematic life that has been pushed on us since day one. You are born in a hospital and they take professionals to help bring you out of the womb and into the world. Then they send you a bill. Then they bring you home and put you into a crib and you sit motionless without anything to be able to say or do. You watch this piece of plastic spin in circles while mom and dad argue because its been nine months since they last had sex. Dads feeling real sexed up but moms tired from all this child birth business. Your too young to even fathom what any of this means but your ears are open enough to take it all in. Things like this happen over and over and over again. Dad says this, mom says that. They go at it for years. They teach you words that you go on repeating. You say moms name first because its her that you spend most of your time with. This pisses dad off because now he's wondering if he's being neglected yet again. It goes from one thing to the next. Your a helpless little child and everyone is doing everything for you and all you have to do is cry and everyone comes to you. Then you laugh and everyone's laughing. Everyone's smiling. The game begins. I would call it the game of mimic. A mirror. Then your old enough to go to school. They line you up outside of the school walls and all the mom's and dad's are there but they are leaving one by one. They are leaving you in the hands of these people, who while your parents are there are smiling and being polite. Some kids around you start crying because they aren't used to being separated from the parents and your just standing there confused. You see mom go. Where is she going? I guess it doesn't matter. You see this new lady in her place but something is off and somehow you know it has something to do with the same exact thing that you are going through now. You go into the classroom and they make you remember the alphabet like you forgot it. They teach you to share, they teach you to separate the differences between shapes and colors. They teach you the similarities. Then you start doing it to each other. You start seeing everything that is different from you. You start seeing the same. You start seeing girls as girls and boys as boys. You go outside to this thing called recess where you get to play for half an hour with the other kids but everyone is in groups, no one wants you to join one of them. They all tell you to get lost. Your not welcome in this one of that one. So you play alone. You start to lose interest in being social because you feel that no one wants to be social with you. You feel saddened inside. You want to share yourself with everyone, only no one wants you to. They see you as a threat for some reason and you are too young to understand why, or so they think this. You go back into the classroom and you sit in the chair and listen to all the things being said to you but you don't get what any of it means. You just sit and listen and they ask you questions but you don't know the answers they want you to know. So they all think that you are mildly retarded because you are quiet and because all you know how to do is take it all in. Then the bell rings and you walk to the bus. They form you into lines and you wait your turn. You wait and wait and wait. This girl keeps looking at you. You don't understand why. You wave to her and she turns red in the face. She blushes and seems like she doesn't want to talk to you so you become afraid and make every attempt to ignore all other girls from this day forward. Then you get on the bus and everyone moves to the outside of their seats so that you cannot sit with them. You find a seat for yourself and sit alone and you look out the window watching the scenery pass by as the driver stops at each stop and everyone gets off. You become more and more alienated from all of the people around you and feel that they want nothing to do with you at this point but you want nothing more than to connect, to feel alive with the people all around you but it all seems like a daydream. You get off of the bus and listen to it drive away and you walk to the front door and climb the stairs to the third floor of the apartment. Mom's cooking dinner. You play outside for the afternoon. Running around the yard. Watching ants follow each other into the hole they have made in the ground. Mom calls from the window and she says dinner is ready. Come on up and eat. You say okay I will be up there in a minute. You walk up the stairs again and it always seems like forever getting to the top of them. You open the door with your tiny little hands and open the door and the smell of food wafts through the house. Your brother is there, your sister is there. This span of time has been stretched from the last portion that you can remember because in this time another man walks through the door and you know he's not your dad and it's not because he looks different but because of the way he looks at you. Then you flashback to a time you were sitting on the toilet taking a shit. Mom and dad were fighting. Dad opens the door and says he has to go. You don't really know why but you do know that you might not ever see him again. You come out of the bathroom and mom is crying at the table and she's wishing that things were different and that you have to go to work with her tomorrow. You say ok, fine that is not a problem. Whatever we need to do. You get in the car the next day and head off to some factory where you hang out and watch people put boxes together. You smell burning plastic. You see these chairs being put into the boxes. Mom works with these people that are so nice to you. You listen to them tease each other all day and eat turkey sandwiches. You watch them continue to put the chairs together then pack them into the stack of boxes that keeps on being piled higher and higher and higher. Then they are loaded onto a truck and after the truck is full they leave with them and take them off to some place to be sold, thats what one of the guys tells you. Then after work is over you get back into the car with mom and her friends and you peel off into the sunset. You listen to the rock music on the radio and watch everyone crack open a beer for the road home. They even give you sips of it which makes you feel kind of funny but at the same time everything is so hilarious, so hilarious and full of light. Then you remember a time when you are walking with mom on a very hot day and the street is being paved that day. The tar is so hot you can see the heat waves coming off of it. While walking from one sidewalk to the next her wooden clog gets stuck and you help her get out of it. She looks at you in a way that you haven't seen her look at you. She's so happy to have you she cries a little. You go to the grocery store with her to get food for dinner. You get a pack of michael jackson bubble gum. Then there's another time you are playing outside in the driveway on your nightrider big-wheel and some kids call you over underneath the porch and they say that they want to show you something. They get you underneath the porch and proceed to hold you down and one kid covers your mouth and another covers your nose so you can't breathe. You freak out and kick one of them in the shin. They let you go and you start crying because you don't understand what just happened but you know that you didn't like it. You run upstairs, mom asks you what's wrong? You tell her in the best way that you can. She calls the police and the officer shows up to file a report. You tell him everything that happened and you never see those kids again. Then there's another time that you are stuck in the house with some guy that you don't know and he's asleep on the couch. You are so bored sitting around the house doing nothing so you go outside and play in the driveway. You spend the whole day outside. He spends the whole day asleep. You don't notice each other at all. It's like nothing exists on this day. Later on you walk back up three flights of stairs and you try to get back into the house but the screen door is locked. You start to cry and yell to be let in and that man answers the door naked, he smells bad and is very angry that you left the house. He rips you back into the house and hits you very hard, so hard you fall back on your ass very hard. This memory doesn't get relayed to anyone or anything for a very long time but it sticks with you. Then another day you remember walking so far all day to some house on the outskirts of the small city you grew up in. There is a van in the driveway. You go inside with mom and there is another guy that you don;t know and they start to smoke in the house and it smells funny. After that happens, they get into an arguement in front of you and it's real intense so mom grabs you and you storm out of the house together and walk back home. When you finally do arrive it is dark out and you are very tired so you go to sleep.

{THEORIES I}

2009-01-12T17:41:00.000-08:00

There's many elaborate theories about how the world came about. Big bang theories, theories of some god creating everything from scratch. There are so many theories that people get wrapped in. It makes for a very confusing time for us all. What is all these theories were just mistakes, feeble attempts at explaining the unexplainable. What if it all just started from some sort of conscious thought and that thought spread like wildfire and become so much to what we think we know and what we know now. Maybe all the black space of space was conscious of itself and it wanted to fill itself with new things that it yet didn't know it was capable of until the moment it became realize that it was capable while moving with it. Maybe it did it because it was lonely and wanted something more of its infinite black space. So it could sit back and interact with whatever it was that came to mind. I am not the one to tell you and even if I did tell you, you wouldn't accept the answer because the answer would not be the one that you know and it wouldn't even be a final answer to all that is unthinkable and unknowable. It would be very vague, cryptic because even when you think about some big open space with nothing in it your mind wants to know how that big open space came to be. I won't ever have an answer for you that will leave you complete. I do have theories that may satisfy your curiosity but you will itch for more and you will scratch, you will become thirsty and want to keep drinking and you will never be able to quench that thirst. It will feel like a wound, an open sore where the whole world will be trying to get into it while all these different ideas will keep coming out.

While writing this on the L train going to Dekalb Avenue stop a group of spanish musicians began playing a song that seemed to have come from out of nowhere. Just like all of the endless questions of existence. Where did the song come from? Its obvious they know how to play their instruments and they can play together and make sounds come out of strings and vibrations but where did the original ideas stem from? Was it from every day existence of going back and fourth between thoughts, emotions, internal circumstance, external circumstance? I can read into this because even these ideas come from the same place. A place that is a mystery to me. I could read a million books about this subject but none of those ideas would be mine. They would be someone else's. To know that helps me realize that I don't actually really know anything at all, I only understand my experiences to be true of the past. Even those experiences are dead and gone. Everything that comes out of my head stems from an overheard conversation, from a book that I read, from a movie that I saw, or from an experience that passed through my life. What does this make me in the world? Am I just passing through this world? Through these emotions, notions, experiences, internal circumstances, external circumstances. What am I really trying to say? When I say it to you will you read this as truth? Will you read it as lie? Even if you come up with either conclusion will you even remain satisfied or will there always be something else to achieve? Then after you have achieved it, then what? The questions can keep coming, coming, and coming. They will never seem to end, until they end.

{FOR EVER MORE}

2008-12-26T18:28:00.000-08:00

There was a blizzard this night on the way from Boston to NYC on the Chinatown bus and I was lost in my own silence looking out the window as the trees, lights, mile-markers and landscape passed us by. I looked up the sky with a longing of some sort that I always feel when I look up to the big vast openness that seems to be this life I lead. The heat was pouring out of the overhead vents and I was listening to music on the way down. I was thinking how I hadn’t been to the city in about 14 years or so. The last time I was there I was about 10 years old or so and I remember that so well. My parents brought me down there to experience the city and there were pigeons everywhere. We did a lot of the touristy things like went to the statue of liberty, central park, the empire state building. I saw the Guinness book of world records museums inside of the empire. I had read that book so many times and loved it and always wondered why people set such odd goals and ambitions. Seems so silly to have the longest finger nails, the longest hair, the fattest motorcycle rider but I guess you can do anything with your life and if that’s what you come up with then so be it. I remember the cabs and the buses and the business of it all. Long grey overcoats, homeless people, small carts that sold hot dogs and hamburgers and other essentials of junk food. I remember how cold it was as well but one thing I remember the most that I am just realizing now is that night when we arrived back to our home in a small town called ware, mass I saw a shooting star fall right in front of my eyes, literally. It shot very fast in front of me and my parents even saw it so it wasn’t just some figment of my imagination which I have been known to wander off with. It was a real live on and it burnt all the way up in front of me and its funny now to look back at that and remember that because now after living in the city for over four years or so now it makes a lot of sense that without my having known it at the time, that must of been my wish fulfilled. I don’t remember wishing for anything, I just remember following the road, following that spacyness that everyone in school used to say I was, always the kid with a dream, always the kid lost in space, always somewhere else. Some people think that it is some sort of escapism, or magical trick to not deal with reality, the artist in me. But then I read into that a bit more and wonder if that is really true. Is it true that if you have a dream and someone doesn’t, are you the one lost in space or is that dream very real. I don’t doubt that the dream is real; I have so many experiences to show for all of my thoughts and feelings. Things I can’t even begin to tell you in this small paragraph about something different. This is going back in time to see where we are now and I don’t even know where I am now, never mind trying to figure out what everything meant then. The frame of mind I had then and the frame of mind now is totally different and I can feel it and see it. I can see the walls building up around me as I keep smashing them down, I keep smashing my own down and then people around me keep telling me to put them back up, people all around me keep telling me who I am, what I am supposed to believe in and I just don’t buy any of it anymore. There nothing left to believe in, there never was in the first place, it was all useless things to scatter the mind with, to keep it busy, and to keep it going into a different place that doesn’t even exist. I have traveled in many places inside and outside myself. If you are reading this, then I know you know you have been with me whether it was for a short time or a medium time or a long time or you are still here with me. You have seen me at my worst, my most mediocre, my best, you have seen me fly really high and smash down to the ground, you have seen me want to completely destroy myself and then build myself back up and up and up and then you have seen me docile, meek and eager, searching for something, searching for nothing, not giving a fuck about anything, caring too much about everything, I have yelled and screamed at you, I have cried with you, I have laughed with you, I have done mischievous things with you, I have gotten drunk with you, I have gotten stoned out of my mind with you and talked endlessly about the span of time, about the life we live, about the death that is always around the corner, I, I, I, I, and I have even gone from I to we, we have had sex together for hours on end, for minutes of futile passions, we have fucked in all kinds of places, in bathrooms, in other people’s homes, in our apartment together, in your apartment alone, with other people laying next to us, we have kissed passionately to the point of complete ecstasy, we have gotten drunk off of love, so drunk that the world never existed anywhere else but in that moment, we have left our body, we have left our mind, we have left our own lives and acted out these other worldly roles that we could never live up to, we have made so many promises to each other, we have let things happen, we have forced things to happen, we have even told each other to fuck off and never seen each other ever again, we have done so many things that I could keep going on and on and on about it. We have made each other realize a lot, we have pissed each other off a lot, we have projected our hopes and dreams, we have projected our futures and our pasts and the he said, she said conversation topic that never goes anywhere, we have hurt, and we have healed. Now the page is turning and this all reminds me of what Rudyard Kipling wrote in his poem called "if" He said that after it is all, you will be a man my son. I can feel those last lines of the poem. For once I can even see it. So much selfishness and selfless acts that have happened between us, millions of us, so many of us together that I can’t even keep count anymore and there's not one time I regret. I know this is turning out to be some long regarded sentiment and I usually don’t like to write sappy little things but at this point I do not give a fuck about trying to write something that will appease to you. I am writing this because right now it is coming out, I don’t even know the next thought, I don’t even know the next comma or right use of punctuation, I don’t care anymore, it’s not my job to make sure that I copy someone else’s style so you can be familiar, it’s not my job to make sure I write non-run on sentences, if my thought comes out this way then fuck it, this is the moment, this is what we definitely have, I don’t want to impress you or lead on into thinking that I am some extraordinary person full of magical talents that are going to make you like me anymore or any less than you already do. I can keep writing this same sentence over and over and over again in three hundred and seventy five different ways. I realize I am not your savior, I am not even my own savior, there is nothing to save, we have everything we ever wanted, and it’s always been in front of us if we are willing to see it. It’s deep in the black void in the body, in the soul, in the cellular memory of the heart. We remember everything just not all at once. It is impossible to remember it all at once and even if we did we would go mad, we would go crazy and even when we do remember it, there’s the possibility that what we remember might not even be accurate, it might just be a figment of our imagination, we may stretch it all out to see what we want to see or we may be that little boy in the painting that Caravaggio did in the late 1600's, David and Goliath and the sword of truth severing the head of the arrogant warrior full of pride. Humiliation kills pride. Pride is a dead scene, it’s defeated itself, humiliation is nothing to, just another way to make one feel bad about themselves and what’s the point? There is no point. And you can argue endlessly about anything and everything that I say and I say that it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I am not responsible for your decisions in life, I am not responsible for your decisions and you can say even that this is a very unloving way of me and I can so oh really, is that true and you can look me in the eye and we can see who we really are. And you can start crying about it and I can start crying because you trigger something so deep in me, that beast of compassion that melts the ice berg around the heart in the middle of the winter. Then we can start again and we can move like a locomotive, I think I can, I think I can and we can move up that big hill in the pouring rain, all alone, alone with the alone, with everyone around us and no one. and I can keep using black and white terminology but then I will always realize that there is color and there is so much color that it blinds us, its puts us in a frenzy, it takes us away and some people will call us crazy, they will say we have gone mad and that we need therapy and maybe that is so, but then we can always say that maybe it’s not all meant to be taken too seriously, maybe god is a fucking comedian and he’s a fucking hilarious bastard son up on the pulpit letting us all know that the sermon is actually a big joke and we keep falling for it every time but we keep falling asleep in the pews and yawning through the whole experience looking for something more interesting, looking for someone to tell us something, anything, anything we haven’t heard before, something that will wake us up, something that will give us something we never felt before, something that I can’t even describe to you and even look at it, I started out telling you all about NYC and memories and how this happened and that happened and the next thing you know I have opened up this giant heart of mine and its pouring out and if you have read this far then you either think one thing or another about me or your reading along because you also feel this way and you read beyond the words and the typography and the design of the sentence which even isn’t real, and I can say things that don’t make any sense at all but you understand, you understand it all without even understanding it and I could keep writing this forever and forever and forever and you would keep on reading it, looking for something, anything. and you will say, just say something to me that I can hear or that I can feel or that and I will just let you know that now I am at a loss for words and I am even writing it down so you can know where I am coming from. I can tell you that I am still walking alone with the alone and I don’t know where I am going but I have a map and a compass that doesn’t say anything, it’s all blank now, the flashlight it dead I can see in the dark, I have whiskers like a cat, I have the intuition of a mother, the clairvoyance of a psychic, the ability to speak with the universe and see it is conscious of my existence and that I am conscious of its existence and if you took me out of this place there would be a small little spot that not one person could fill that is me but I am so ordinary, and then you could think that I am only writing about myself because you can’t see beyond yourself but this story is about you, and you, and you, and you, and me and me and me, and about no one at all. I will write to you more about my dreams, travels, experiences if you would please write to me and tell me that you are still here and remember what we have done together, alone, it doesn’t matter, lets write it all down for the world to read. See look at that, I started out with a fucking blizzard and ended up with the same thing in words worth.

{DREAM LAST NIGHT}

2008-12-25T21:23:00.000-08:00

So I was somewhere I had never been before in this physical life, it was some white house and there were people everywhere who I did not know. I was in the crowd with the rest of them. We were all wearing the same kind of clothing and it was kind of cold outside. There were many windows inside of the buildings all around us, they were house like. A gun man came to a window and I felt his presence looking for me. Once he saw me he started shooting everyone there to get to me. I kept running through the crowd, he could not shoot me. So he decided to shoot everyone. The more people he shot the more open space there was for me not to be able to hide behind. Then the man shot someone right in front of me and I grabbed onto the person as they fell into me and used them to dodge the bullets but one hit me in the head immediately as it shot through the body. I dropped the body and became very weak and wobbled into a door and went into a house and the people were like holy shit you have been shot but I could not respond, I knew this was it, it was my time to go and I laid down in a collapsing manner and went to the final sleep. My sould left the body very gracefully and then I woke up in my mother's living room and she was standing there and I told her all about it. It's funny they call it a living room but I always feel like I am dying in it.

{BLUE MOON}

2008-12-25T10:36:00.000-08:00

Blue moon diner with Ziggy talking about the time that has passed since we first met and all of the crazy things we have been through together in this city. All the failed attempts at love, music, celebration, creation all due to the fight between the split inside of us. It all seems like such a waste of time but at the same time it has brought us through this to show us something bigger than ourselves and to compare any time, any person and any one is a waste of time and is not fair to anything. Useless to regret the way everything happened when you werent sure what was going on and how you contributed to it all. Avoidance of the more negative qualities of life just perpetuated them even more. Now the shackles and the chains we have imposed on ourselves have fallen off and we grow wings to fly out of the inner depths of the hell that almost seemed real for a time. I get up to use the bathroom and as I walk back there I think about how lucky we really are to be alive still, to be here, to be in this moment sharing these thoughts. Yes, life has a moments of a certain sentimentality that not many people want to admit. I walk back to the bathroom and there is a man with a sullen look drinking a beer in a cup and he is staring down at the floor looking very sad and he tells me that the door is open so I walk past him to use it. I start pissing out all of the digested coffee and this thought comes to me that this man once I walk out of the bathroom is going to start a conversation with me, now I didnt know what he was going to say but I just knew this for some reason, there was a deep feeling that spoke to me. So I walk out and lo and behold he starts speaking to me. He tells me he is very lonely and how the night before he had gotten jumped by a thief, blacked out and woke up in Beth Israel Hospital and didnt remember how he got there, why, or anything. His life has been a constant struggle with no possibility for anything else other than that. I just listened to him speak because that is what he needed. To be heard. He said he was hungry so I reached into my wallet and gave him the last five dollars that I had on me and after I did this he started to cry uncontrollably and gave me the biggest hug ever. He told me he loved me and that no one has ever stopped and listened to what he wanted to say and that no one has ever let him hug them. He also said that he doesnt care about the money it was the point that I took the time out of my life to share the moment with him when he really needed it. I said it was no big deal to me, it all lined up on its own, we arent alone here. I also was thinking about the past six months and how I had gone into a very big depression and gone right to the very bottom of everything so I know what it is like. So many people have shown me so much support in all moments of this life and I wanted to share that same wisdom, compassion to anyonethat shows up. I am able to help so why not, what it is a moment of my time if it helps push someone in a direction or even opens up a small sliver of awareness. It warmed my heart that all this happened. Its like what I said to a man on the train once; We are humanity! We are all in this together wether we like it or not. While all of this was taking place my seat in the diner got filled by an old lady who was passing by Ziggy, she thought he was a famous movie star or a famous something or other. They spoke of art, theatre, and other such performances. The universe threw people at us this day, these people needed to speak, so we listened. These relics of NYC history and experience spoke to us and reciprocated the conversation of our lives. We love you all.

{ATOMIC SPACE}

2008-12-25T09:49:00.000-08:00

Ziggy and I are sitting on the N train downtown, southbound to Canal St from Union Square and we are talking about the pictures that we are planning on taking that afternoon with an octopus and a naked woman and there's this family across from us from puerto rico, that is atleast what appears to be true to me. There is a mother, a young daughter, a young son, a father and a daughter who is probably about seventeen years old. She keeps staring at me and smiling and for some reason its funny to me so I start to laugh. She continues to stare and smile and I continue to laugh. I see nothing wrong with it, this kind of thing happens on the train between young people, old people, middle aged people every day. She then makes a hand signal like she is very bored being on the train with her family, she makes a gun with her finger and her thumb and shoots herself in the head. This makes me laugh hysterically because of the irony of the bored faces sitting next to her on the train. I can understand how one would feel in this moment. Everything in life can be very funny given the right circumstances and moment. Its all all about the delivery of the joke but her father didn't see it this way. He interpeted it in a whole other way that was not meant to be interpreted it. I feel it was a big assumption on his part and you know what they say about assumptions, when you assume something you make an ass out of you and me. He started to yell at me about staring at his daughter and I told him I can stare wherever I want and I can laugh whereever I want. This pissed him off and he was about to stand up to fight me over this and I invited him but the mother also had a different understanding of the situation so she stood up and got between us. She told him to sit down and to cut it out. I let him know that there was no problem to begin with he was only creating a problem. There is a difference between something that is definitely happening in reality and the thought that something is happening, the difference is that one thing you can definitely see and the other is only a projection of what you are thinking of at the time. So seeing how he had some issue with me staring at her I started to stare at him instead to even things out and to let him know that what was going on was not what he insinuated. I smiled and remained ina good mood, I wasn't going to let anyone tell me who I am and what my intentions are unless there is a definitive thing that I am choosing to show and/or do. This continued awkwardly for the rest of the 5 minutes moving from 8th street to canal street. As I walked off of the train I told him to have a good day and he told me that he always has a good day. I said apparently. I also said that he shouldnt assume things of people that arent true that is where all problems occur. He said that he would assume whatever he wants so I said good then you atleast know when you are causing a problem that doesnt exist. The train doors closed and it closed the chapter of that moment between us forever.

*one thing I will mention about myself and this story is this, I am no worse or better than anyone else in this world. But if someone in this world is going to try and attempt to tell me who I am, what I am doing then I am going to let that person know just who I am and what I am doing. What you are thinking is happening in reality and what is true to happening in reality are two different things.

{OBVIOUSLY AN IDIOT}

2008-12-21T10:06:00.001-08:00

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Wait, scratch that, who hasn’t heard that one before. Too cliché, too obvious. What a waste of time starting a story out about the inevitable things. Everyone gooes through good times and bad times. Afterall this is the city of hope, broken dreams and repair shops. Plus we can’t just start out with some narration that gives the whole meaning of the story away, its too soon, its trivial. Too expected. We have to give them something more to work towards. Surprise them. Something less revealing. Something with a little more pizazz. I just used to word pizazz. That’s something someone would say selling real estate. Why should we give them anything at all? I sure as hell don’t want to listen to some guy talk in the first thirty seconds of the story about the fucking story. I want to read something else. This is garbage. I want to read anything at this point. Something with less words. Yeah, that’s it, less words. That would be perfect.

{DIALOGUE BETWEEN A DOCTOR AND A PATIENT}

2008-12-21T10:05:00.002-08:00

First off we see a clock on the wall. Its ticking. We see ten seconds go by. Then we see an office environment. A man waits in a chair. A secretary opens a window and starts to speak.

Ok Mr. Mr?

Magdalene.

Yes, Magdalene. The doctor will see you now.

Inside the Doctors Office we see a scale, another clock, jars of things, a desk, charts, books. We see outside a window where there is a windmill and a pond. On the wall is that same windmill and pond with a young man fishing.

So, I’m fine.

Fit as a fiddle.

So, I’m not going to die?

I cant predict that I am only a Doctor.

But, I’m healthy as a horse.

Yes.

No tumors?

No tumors.

Hearts good?

Hearts good.

Brains good?

Brains good.
The only thing I would say is that you should learn to relax.

How do I do that?

Find something that you enjoy.

Where do I start?

Try going for a walk.

Go for a walk?

Hey it’s a start, I can’t give you all the answers.

Doc c’mon I need something.

No you don’t. Your perfectly fine. Theres nothing wrong with you.

C’mon the anxiety has been getting to me.

Thatll do it everytime but all you have to do is breathe.

But I am so scared of tomorrow and the day after that and the…

That’s pretty normal.

C’mon just something for the pain, something to make it all go away?

I just want to know.
I want to know so bad.

Whats there to know?

How will I die?

How will you live? Try that one first.

But I want to know now.

How do you know whats going to happen before it has happened? No one knows this. As people we spend so much time logistically planning out our lives. Writing down on our calendars when this is going to happen and when that is going to happen. Then we wonder why we find so much disappointment when nothing goes according to plan. Stop me if you have heard this all before already.

I don’t even know what to say to that.

Theres nothing to really say. Life happens while you plan it. Its always been this way. Itll always be this way.

I don’t know if I am far ahead with that type of thinking.

That’s the thing. There is nothinking involved, you let it happen. You participate in the happening. Heres a question: where are you headed after this?

Well I am going to stop at the store for a pack of smokes and then head home and think about all this stuff we just talked about.

So you are going home.

How are you getting there?

The car.

So you are driving there.

That’s what cars do these days right?

I didn’t know cars drove themselves.

I’m going to drive it.

Exactly.

Exactly?

It only makes sense, you are the driver at the wheel.
How do you know you are going to make it?

I am going to take the BQE to the Metropilitan exit.

No, I am saying how do you know your going to make it home?

I don’t really know. I guess we will see what happens, right?

Well all I know is all you have is the road in front of you, so if that’s true then all you have to do is drive. So, just drive, when you get home, give me a call.

{DIALOGUE WITH B WHILE WALKING DOWN 6TH AVE}

2008-12-21T10:05:00.001-08:00

Honey, you have to be courageous. To be fierce it takes balls. It takes and individual. It takes chalenging yourself. We are the individuals of this city. We make it all happen honey. We are the creators of this place. We are the dreamers of the dream.

I was thinking about this the other day. This is so funny that we bump into each other to have this conversation.

Honey your open to it. When you keep yourself open to it everything lines up and you meet the people you are meant to meet.

Simplicity is the new complexity isn’t it?

That’s for sure honey. Here’s a prime example. {points to a man in the window who is eating a very large steak and eggs dinner at midnight in a greasy diner.} That man over there will never know what it is like to be an individual. My guess would be that he does the same thing every single night. Eats and eats and eats. Reads that newspaper filled with the most useless stories of tragedy making his life all that more tragic. The same articles of how fat your getting, how bald your getting, how poor your getting. Yet, he’s still here every night doing the same thing.

And I notice this happening everywhere.

Most people don’t want to break out of the shell, its too scary. There is too much investment in routine.

Well look at what he is reading and what everyone else is reading. It’s a wonder why. How can we ever see anything change if we don’t do anything differently.

Honey, that’s what this life is all about. Asking how we can. How can we live the beautiful life? Ask yourself that.

How can we live the beautiful life?

{FLOATING AROUND}

2008-12-21T10:04:00.002-08:00

My mind has way too many ideas going back and fourth. Bouncing from one idea to the next to the next. Never being able to focus on just one thing at a time. That’s been my whole life. One thing, to the next to the next. Never being able to completely focus on just one thing at a time.

Or have you just led yourself to believe that?

{SOLVING PROBLEMS}

2008-12-21T10:04:00.001-08:00

Well how else do we figure it out?

We could let it come to us

I need to write it down and see it so I can re-read it and figure out what it means to me.

Hows that going for you?

Well I am still just as confused as I was when I started out.

Do you feel like you have made any progress at all?

Sure, now I can walk down the street without wondering if something horrible is going to happen around every corner.

So then what confuses you?

What confuses me is this: What are we doing here? I see a whole world filled with poor people, rich people, powerless people, powerful people, corrupt people, religious people, people who don’t believe in anything, big houses, small houses, no houses at all. I see people heavy as brick walls, people light as feathers, people in between these states, People on the outside looking in, people on the inside looking out. This all feels like a strange dream and I keep pinching myself to see if I am going to wake up. I want to get up and get out of this place. I do my best to make everyone feel welcome. I am open to everything that happens but I don’t want to be apart of most of the things that do happen. I don’t even know what you can do to help me anymore, I don’t even know what I can do to help myself anymore as well. I know if I ask you, you will just give me a textbook remedy but that is not going to help me. It makes me sick to hear all of this, to see myself speak this, to see myself write all these things down. To see all this come out of this head of mine, but at the same time I feel a big breakthrough coming on. I will keep writing and writing and writing and still I will feel like I havent come any closer to seeing anything.

{MOTHER AND SON CONV}

2008-12-21T10:03:00.001-08:00

Mom

Yes

Whats wrong with me?

What do you mean?

Whats wrong with me, that’s what I mean; that’s exactly what I mean.

Does there always have to be something wrong?

Look at the world around you?

What does the world around you have to do with you?

{MINDLESSLY DRIVING}

2008-11-14T09:18:00.000-08:00

where the fuck are we going, cried the driver to the passenger

I have no clue, you said you knew where we were going and you were so sure of it and all this other stuff.

yeah, but I relied on you cried the driver, your the one with the map, I have to pay attention to the road and make sure we get there safely.

that's why I assumed that you knew where you were going, you appeared to be in control. then you started driving really fast down the highway and I was like shit, he knows where he's going if he's going to be driving that fast

so you just assumed, why didn't you ask me while we were moving?

because you were so involved in your driving. I felt like you didn't even know I was here.

fuck, now we are stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no gas, no food, no clue where we are.

you know this really sucks, we could have told each other what was going on and avoided the whole thing

do you really believe that, it was fucking inevitable. you said, lets drive, lets keep going, lets never stop and now look at us, in the middle of fucking nowhere.

hey, why don't you keep reminding me, just in case I forget.

I will, you got us lost, idiot.

no, you fucked up by not telling me what was going on.

I can't read your fucking mind.

you have the attention span of a fucking stop light. you focus for a moment and then boom your off again, to who knows where.

well, look at you you are so quiet, you don't speak. you just sit there doing nothing, waiting for something to happen and then what do you know, nothing happens. thats a big surprise.

(another man in the back set wakes up.)

can't anyone get some fucking rest around here. why o you guys keep fighting over nothing.

you stay out of it

I can't believe you can just sleep through all of this.

there was nothing else to do, I was bored with the same scenery.

are you kidding, its gorgeous out here.

no its a wasteland, look at us now in the middle of it.

{DEAR YOU}

2008-11-13T09:33:00.000-08:00

Fist off we don't own anything on this earth or in this galaxy. We temporarily claim that everything is ours and that we have control over it all but none of this is true. We are born, we learn through life, through our experiences, through our pains, through our turmoils, through our happiness, through the realization that life is fucked up and beautiful at the same exact moment. So, don't be too sick of the antics, the tongue tied romantics, the clueless procrastinators, the two faced systematics. It takes all of these things for the process and the balance to see it all. Only if you have a true desire to want to. The universe and everything in it is everything that life is. It's every waking hour, every breath, every sunset spent alone, every sunrise spent with some stranger laying naked next to you. Our lives are but one pigment of the colors on the color wheel. Take one pigment out and you won't be able to make tertiary colors anymore. There will be no black and white. Everything will be a great big mess. But these are all the foots steps that took us here. You can see the bricks and the apartments and the places where we have all been.

Some questions you may want to ask yourself is who are you? what do you stand for? are you here just to fill a space, a time and a void? are you afraid to be alone?

In my experiences you can do what you want, can take advantage of every possibility and every opportunity that life has to offer. You got the road never traveled filled with weeds, rocks, overgrown with grass or you got the paved road with the guard rails. You can drive slowly on one or fast on the other. You either drive straight or straight through the guard rail hoping there's another road to connect to.

{A DOG NAMED GOD}

2008-11-11T09:32:00.000-08:00

Listen, first of all fuck you. Fuck you and all your elaborate buildings and patterns and plans, all your fucking books and movies and talk about all kinds of shit I haven't even said. Blasphemous as it may seem I don't care anymore. I've been following and listening to you for some time and now I am stuck in a big black fucking void and your supposed to be the all knowing, all power full, above and below being that all your stupid books talk about yet you show me nothing to dig myself out of this hole that I am stuck in. I have been loyal to you. I have done many great things in your name and still I can't feel anything but spite in this moment. I want to put you back on the cross and hammer those nine inch nails right back into your wrists but I know that I am just a coward, I know that much. I am sick of calling your name, I am sick of your tricks and your trades of sacrifice for a tiny piece of rice that disintegrates in my hand the moment that I touch it, and most of all I am so fucking sick of having to complain about how much your fucking pissing me off. I have been down so many of your tortured roads. I have left burned down roads from the flames of this fury inside of me. The fire still burns I can't seem to put it out and am ready to put myself out. I am ready to throw water on myself and dig a hole and bury myself right in it. I am sick of your fucking buildings, your money, your power and prestige, your proof, your science, your art, your philosophy. You made me in your image and I keep looking everywhere and yes I have found things. I have found what its like to love another and I have found what its like to feel so much love inside. I have seen what its like for the opposite of that. I have witnessed everything in your fucking books, that I know of so far. I don't know anymore about anything. I don't know what the point of all this is. I don't know why I am here. I don't know why I chose this hell. I don't know why I am bitter. I don't know why my humor has left me. If you are the great and powerful all seeing one then please put on your list that I am the next one to take out of here because I can't take this pain and suffering anymore. I have spent 6 months now, wallowing, trying to find the words to say to you. Nothing. I shut my eyes and see nothing. I feel nothing. I keep hitting your walls that you built around me. You humble me and humiliate me and my pride leaves then I have no confidence anymore in anything and I sit here waiting, waiting, waiting and then I tire of waiting so I try and do something and still nothing happens. I am not your dog, you are not my dog. I am not pavlov, so please stop showing me food and ringing that fucking bell so that I can sit in front and drool all over the place because I am ready to bite your fucking hand off. I am starving. I am poor. You have reduced me to nothing and you just sit there in your big fancy fucking chair with all the jewels on it and you want me to make you laugh but the fucked up thing is you already are, your laughing at how pathetic I am, at how fucking pathetic even this long winded paragraph is. You'll send people to read this long paragraph and they will say how fucked up I am or how I am lost or all these other things I need to do. Last time I checked though we are human beings, not human doings. Even this catharsis is killing me, I keep letting it out and out and it just keeps biting me in the ass. You keep telling me how beautiful the world is but your stupid little newspapers keep telling me of all these promises about how everything will change, how everything will pass, how this is going to happen and how that is going to happen and you know what we are still in the same fucking place we have always been. Your history is proof of that. I have read so much of your literature, your history, your holy wars, your sciences and have spent much time with many people in all areas of your field and all I can say is that I have seen much disappointment. I have failed. I am weaker than you. I keep showing you that and then I snap out of it and I find it again, I find that footing for a moment and it feels great and then you throw me down again to the ground and you punch and kick me while I am down and I cry and I scream because I can't take it anymore, then I am a victim, then I am a crook because I still work for you without pay, I still clean up all your messes. That is how much of a fucking fool I am, I never give up but this time I am. Fuck you god, you can have your fucking next back and all your eggs and everything and if you actually want to show your face this time and have a conversation with me that might amount to something then I welcome you with open arms and open ears. So if you want to stop fucking with me and actually show me what you are trying to show me then fine, otherwise this is it. I am done. Finished, but if this is all just the opposite of what I am feeling right now and saying then please prove to me I am wrong because I am done proving myself to you and taking the beating and backlash.

with love, jay

{THE COLUMBIAN AND WHITE DEVIL}

2008-11-06T10:48:00.000-08:00

Flying down the Garden State Turnpike doing roughly seventy miles per hour with no room to breathe. We were on a mission to eradicate all the bore-doms and tragedies of life. Every crazy bastard was behind the wheels of these thunderous machines while clouds rolled off the back windows and disappeared with every inch that we approached that island of lonely people. The one window that did go down well, it was down. The purr of this eight cylinder machine of hell was nothing of a straight shot at the president with a hunting rifle. Pure adrenaline at the helm. Swerving in and out of the mile-markers, the fast lanes with the slow people in them. It felt like there was an end to the world and we were trying to get as close to the edge of it as possible. Then danger ahead. Traffic jams. Gridlocked ironies. Car exhaustion. Makeshift transitions over to the edge of the road and straight on through to evening, hopefully. That's all we had, Hope. Until some bastard in this gas guzzling, american destroying suv felt the need to cut us off. To discontinue our run to the edges of freedom from the breakdown lane, but we only thought about this for a second and immediately took the situation into our own hands. We were driving a fucking ship. The titanic iceberg. This was the kind of car you didn't fuck with at the beginning or the end of each day. Alvaro Uribe Velez and Edgar Allen Poe in the grips of the ship. We went right around without a moments hesitation because we knew that if we didn't it could be years from now to regain this bizarre opportunity of dumb luck. We speeded past all these slow demons and right past a tractor trailor truck that had toppled over. There was blood all over the road and a sense that death was here. This wasn't just a coincidence that we were seeing the deathbed of someone we may never know. This was a true crime at hand and we all knew the fine police dept. would take care of everything. If that wasn't bad enough of a break, we pulled up to the tollbooth of the Lincoln Tunnel where for six dollars you can go under the fantastic river of the hudson and end up on the other side in the land of the vulterous. We entered the tollbooth with caution as the air hadn't really cleared yet and it was just another one of life's treats. This lady vulture creaked her salt wound neck over to collect our money but even after collecting it she was still not satisfied. I realized then and there that a columbian man and a caucasian man should never be traveling together in a giant ice berg floating to knock everything out of the way. She had this assumed look in her eyes like we had some ties in with drugs and sex crazed women, she looked at us like she thought we were people that can't travel anywhere and be trusted that they are going to follow all of the rules and make no mistakes along the way. She seemed to assume then that we were going to attack her, that was the exaggeration of the situation. I immediately felt a nausea and slumped into my seat but then immediately went right into it. I looked at the woman and told her exactly what was going on. I pointed my index finger of death at her and I said; there is no problem here, we are passing through and you are not going to get in our way. She let us pass through and I knew she had felt it. Deep in the womb. We flew as fast as possible under great depths of seas where pirates and sailors have given their lives for the development of thousands of high rises, so gods could sit in the sky and know they have it all. I still see nothing in this safe haven of land slanderers and the homeless makers of the forgotten way.

{BACKWARDS 11-12-05}

2008-11-06T10:34:00.000-08:00

The grip has got a hold of me again and its the battle versus the elements of the past, the present and the future all rolled up into one theme. In these crazy and fast times I can't even tell who's at the wheel of this speeding machine, with an engine fueled by the fires of hell and the fuel sponsored by the devil himself. In times like these there is no room for needing more space and all that hopping around that seems so fictitious that it can't keep me in the loop as to what it is that is going on. I only hope that this isn't the last resting place for yours truly. I am hoping that there are horizons ahead of us that we will have to walk to and I am thinking hopefully by the grace of that unknown god. We have finally reached a point where I am not sure of anything anymore It's gotten to that point where the fucking cars are speeding down the roads like leppers running away from each other with open arms. With their eyes closed. To make it completely legit. We would put coins over their eyes and call it a night. That kind of goodnight that says nothing more than the people around us still speak of. Like its all about to end and it never does. Drunken hybrid whales fall silently down the sidewalks. Pummeling straight down the stairs. No return flight pattern. Trying to get ahold of my footing. Trying to let myself know that everything is going to be alright. The idle time that our idle hands keep watching slowly tick away. I forgot where I left my fucking watch. The bridges are collapsing on false ironies and I am drunk as all hell. One road has ended and somewhere down there on those points of perception is a new beginning and a new place. History written by animals and re-interpreted by the insane beast like mammals flapping like fish out of the water. Can't breathe. Every exhale is one less inhale and there's no way to catch up.

{MISSING 11-13-05}

2008-11-06T10:32:00.000-08:00

Why do we keep missing each other? I see you walking away every moment and I don't know if it was you or if it was me that tore this all apart, but baby things got out of hand on the grandest of scales and I don't know which way to go, I just don't know.

{THE HANDBOOK OF STRUGGLING BUT SURVIVING}

2008-11-06T08:10:00.000-08:00

The cold finally swept up it's wings and took over these spaces that I didn't know it would and at a rate alarming that thunderstorms filled the sky on a morning where everything was once familar. The queen settled into the hive as yours truly slept into three or four hours that I could. The deprivation is catching up so much to the point that even if I slept the next life away it still wouldn't be enough. The hive was the quietest it had been for some time now due to me being the worker bee who has put much effort into everything and ended up with a small gap between so many lines and borders. Kings and Queens no more in this hive. This is the freelancers union now with no benefits but a sense of satisfaction that everything that has happened up to this point was the demons dancing and partying for the end of a new beginning. I haven't seen any of the other workers for some time but the Queen had her last ride with me and it seemed for the purposes of moving on but I am still unsure because she seems to be the one who brings order to all the disorder. The centrifuge of my life in these fast times of the exceedingly deranged lunatics.

{11-12-05}

2008-11-06T07:55:00.000-08:00

It's a cruel world, that it is especially when you see an elderly woman crying in the street screaming, "help me". I didn't know what to do at the time, what could I do, I had nothing to offer. I am having a hard enough time trying to keep it all together and I am sure of it one day she will pull herself out or she will die cold hearted in the streets. Or else maybe that is a prediction of where I am headed. Well luckily the weather has been an odd seventy two degrees in November which is usually the opposite, it should be cold. There was Clint, Dennis and I can't remember his name but he's a good guy I know that much. They were all down on Ludlow Street the time I was going for a walk to settle the disappointments and the last class of actions that had been going on in the past 2 years. The winter's here have been very cold and grey but nothing comparable to the cold winter's of Boston walking in the windy ice rain blowing off my face. Sanding my skin down to a smooth feel. The abrasiveness has shown me so many truths and I feel I am well versed in these thoughts and phrases but never can seem to write about anything except for the life that I see out there through the looking glass and at every street corner and subway stop seems to be new days and new adjustments.

{11-11-05}

2008-11-06T07:36:00.003-08:00

Well, just another fuck-horse of a night. I think its about that time where my cerebellum splits off from the rest of my head and does it's own thing. I got the F train blues down here on 42nd street and there's not much hope for some of these eyes around me right now. Another funny thing I just noticed was the crusted dried semen stuck to my pen. There's quite a possibility my pen was in the wrong place at the wrong time while I was doing that deed that we do to keep us wanting to fuck everything we see. At this point there is nothing I can really do about it due to my absence of emotion and those feelings of attachment to anything other than the environment that is all around me. It just goes without saying that we must ride these waves out and see where they take us, where we end up in the middle of the ocean. Then everything is a new perspective, there's new light in the tunnels I have been traveling in and it's nice to know that no matter what happens I am going to be alright and this is me saying this high as a kite, alcohol pumping through my veins, so it's gotta be somewhat true. It comes from the depths.

{11-10-05}

2008-11-06T07:29:00.000-08:00

I think that maybe I have changed my mind on this NYC place. This place is fucking disgusting. There's trash everywhere at every corner. Everyone that moves here can't seem to handle it due to it being such an insane place to be. With all its insane people and every last one is crazy even me. I feel the fear and the frenzy every few weeks with a little break in the middle just so I don't go completely over the edge but I come really close walking on razor wire. I just saw some sparks fly from underneath. I am on the train while I write this. I don't even know who any of these fucking people are staring at me from the opposing side of the subway platform. I have no clue but they look at me at times like we had been here before. That this had already been done a long time ago and some of us are remembering and taking notes and making sure we are reminding other people that these things are real.

{11-09-05}

2008-11-06T06:51:00.000-08:00

The bicycle riders out here are a bit more crazy than the ones in Manhattan. When you least expect it one flies out of the shadows with a butcher knife and chases you down the street like a chicken getting ready to get its head cut off. Not more than two seconds later there's a lady and a man battling at it in the streets like a wild rhinoceros and a giraffe with a shorter neck than most. Just witnessing these events on the mass grand scale is enough to drive one to the nuthouse. Every second seems like a movie moment on a mass scale grandeur. Tender broiled thighs walk down the street and I just don't understand what people see in fat people and I mean no harm in saying this because I do know a few fat bastards out there in the world who have the biggest hearts that any man or woman would want. That kind of heart that melts brain receptors and drives you into a mad frenzy so that when finally all things go wrong and not one moment that has passed by has gone good. You know you just got yourself into some real deep trauma from all past experiences. Its just a really bad movie played over and over again. Each time its set up with a new set of circumstances and new character developments that you never would have expected. That is why I am faced with the decision to leave all these yellow cabs and red street lights and seek refuge in a new place and time where new experiences will let me know if this is just another place to stay or another place to leave.

I take a look down Flushing Ave. and the horizon down there in the southern most part of Brooklyn. I see nothing more. Time is just one of those things you can't cash in on no matter what you have done to span those stretches apart or close together. I am not even sure at points if the things I wrote down are really worth anything to anyone anyways. Why would anyone want to read about things that they have nothing to do with or authors they will never know or anyone else but themselves for all that matters. When I finally cash in all my winnings from whatever happens from the big gambles that are about to take place I will only hope that some sort of difference was made. That there was some impact in someone's life so that they could feel the happiness on an authentic level. So they could look out windows and not be scared of the outside world or the people in this place because some of these people are pretty wretched but some are truly free.

{THE LAST WORDS}

2008-11-05T18:38:00.000-08:00

were the most important ones I had ever witnessed in myself writing to her and to think that I never knew how they would go or if I would ever find them; but I wore them proudly like a scar and let them all shine bright, though something still felt missing. I reached and reached and grabbed onto them tightly and they said this to my self: This year has been very magical. The universe spoke to me almost every single day in almost every way but I feel that here my time is done. I set out to learn as much as I could about my self and I feel that has happened. It brought me deeply into a place I had never been before. I may have been there when I was a little boy. If we would call it anything we would call it the remembering. Thank you very much for all your kind words, they mean the world to me. I hope you know that and all of the experiences we have shared now hold a deeper meaning to me that was not at that time understood. So in any moments of your quiet desperation that you may experience someday in this life or any other life. As we know it all seems to come like a sickness. Just know that somewhere out there you are still with me. All of those words we built together have grow into the soil and have rooted into the big tree that I am. You are truly blessed. Enjoy this life to the fullest. Live each day like it was your last day here. This is all I have to say now. Remember to take a few moments every now and again to thank yourself, you went through hell so you could find your heaven.

{TODAY IS YESTERDAYS TOMORROW}

2008-11-05T17:43:00.000-08:00

and tomorrow is yesterdays today. So what would three days from now be? These are the kind of things you think about when you have nothing much to do. You can be sitting anywhere USA and these little anecdotes pop into your head. It's 12 o'clock somewhere in the world but where? You can think about a million things at once. There are too many options and they overwhelm you. If you built a time machine and wanted to go to specific coordinates in time you'd still be missing out on the present but then you could travel to the present after it has already went by. After you traveled to the past and the future and saw your fate. You could just go back to the present. You could just live in the present for the rest of your life and it would change your future. All of the predictions you saw of the future would stay somewhere locked in space and time. They wouldn't exist. It would be like a house abandoned in the middle of the world. The house of one thousand windows and no door. No way to get in and no way to get out.

{04-12-04}

2008-11-05T11:55:00.000-08:00

Everyone needs a fucking savior. They need some iron clad figure standing before them to clean up the murder scene of life. It's not just any savior though, our savior needs to be marketable. Our savior needs to be mysterious, almost to the ways of a ghost. Our savior needs a history, a book complete with sequels that coincide with each other that are hypocritical. We can't just market our hero without a little drama, without a little garbage on the side. Who wants to pay homage to a saint? Our savior needs to be beautiful. No rough , unshaven need apply. Perfect cheekbones, blue eyes and a widened smile is what we need.

{THE AUDITIONER}

2008-11-05T11:27:00.000-08:00

It wasn't that hard to get that young fox to blow me off for the part. I'm sorry I am just a lonely casting director. These broads come in here all the time with the slinkiest dresses and the highest heels. It's a wonder any of these broads are really actresses. The really should be in the porno industry where they could be getting paid for that kind of thing, but hey I'm not complaining. I love the perks of this job.

{THE CLERK}

2008-11-05T09:35:00.000-08:00

The clerk in the waiting room now looked at me with disgust and handed the letter back to me. I already had my number in hand and I was tired of waiting. It had already been an hour since number twelve had gone in to do her audition and it made me wonder just what the hell was going on in there. I just wanted to get my chance to shine and not only prove to them I am worth something but to prove it to myself too.

I couldn't help but look at the clock on the wall and watch its tiny arms slowly advance another minute and then another. I could hear the second hands tick so loudly that it gave me a headache and it didn't help that the lady at the desk was staring me down but what was I supposed to do? Did she not know that this was the rehearsal for the big scene in the movie called: the secretary at the meat market. I let her read my monologue so that I could see if something was missing. I wanted to do my best. I wanted to be as authentic as possible but I couldn't help but feel as if she thought I was mocking her. Really I was just trying to understand her.

The door was opening to the audition room. Why the hell did it sound like it was locked? It took a few more extra seconds for the door to open and when it did I caught a glimpse of that young woman fixing her dress and the auditioning man playing with his belt. The temperature in the room dropped and the blood rushed to my head. What kind of audition was this? The young woman strutted her stuff and gave me the kind of glare that said to me: your not getting the part. I gave back a stare that said: at least I don't have to suck people's dicks to be in a movie, I have something called talent. The secretary then said, good luck, you will need it.

{SOME WHERE II}

2008-11-05T09:25:00.000-08:00

Even when you were on top of the world, the view didn't do much justice because you were so isolated from the smallest details you could barely even see them. You were just an actor, just another face in the crowd playing your part and trying to outdo the rest with your phony tears and phony faces of the always victims put in their place. How fair it wasn't to the countless others and you yourself now knew. You didn't get the part. Your not the right one. Your not very convincing of the real thing. Little did you know that the real thing exists out there, somewhere living the part that you play. Oh what a hell it is to be trapped here with you making a mockery of those who truly exist amongst the delusional and fearful ones. I call them my brother, sisters, sons, daughters, fathers, mothers.

So instead we are building an army and its not just one sided. There's no baffoon committee sitting at a tall desk with a gavel and hairpiece. Shouting obscenities and declarations that he's seen it all and we should be very afraid. We should be so afraid that we must pay our taxes on time or else, and start families as a new kind of commerce. The business of the flesh parade. Organic blood for nothing at no cost to you. No one is real, don't worry, no one will hurt you. This is all just a fun game that everyone plays. There's no one behind that curtain, that really is the great and powerful Oz. He's your friend. That meat hammer is just a prop. It keeps the bad man away. Just stand over there, take a number and have a seat. Someone will be with you in a moment.

{SOME WHERE}

2008-11-04T17:09:00.000-08:00

We were somewhere above the clouds and down below it looked like it was raining. We jumped off the edge of the world and gravitated towards the heavens . You couldn't see it all from the view way down there on the ground, and between the pollution and the hazy weather it was impossible to even get a grip of what it was all really about. Even the oceans ripple below us was pushing at some slow pace just trying to get on top of it, even to see it for one second. The problem though was the noise and the pollution. The other was the population that was out of control. Idiot savages giving birth to more idiot savages. A whole tribe of pig fuckers and selfish pseudo-livers. The kind of wildabeasts that just sit there in the clouds and wait to never see that true ray of golden sunshine.

{GOODBYE}

2008-11-04T17:08:00.001-08:00

good bye to the:

- the complainer
- the critic
- the judge
- the defendant
- the plaintiff
- the jury
- the sadist
- the masochist

{CURIOSITY}

2008-11-04T17:06:00.001-08:00

Curiosity never killed the cat, it was the idea that the cat died from curiosity that killed it.

{MAUGRE}

2008-11-04T17:05:00.001-08:00

It always seems like yesterday when these things arise. One minute you are on top of the world. You feel as if nothing can stop you. As the world turns, your heart burns for a better tomorrow day, not too far away. You can see these days all around you like they are crowding, but the only day you know is the day known as today. If today was a day you could turn it all around what would you do? what would you say? would it even matter?

{THE HOUSE IS NOT A HOME}

2008-11-01T16:38:00.000-07:00

I wake up in a house that is not mine, I remember. The house feels borrowed. It feels like a place that I have never been to before. I wake up in a place that looks like the den. There's all these wooden things on the wall. Wooden furniture, televisions, even the clock is made of wood. I get up off of the couch and walk towards another room that I am not familiar with . Its the kitchen, with all its elaborate paisley looking things. Doilies, hand towels and cute little salt and pepper shakers. It's a woman's kitchen, you can tell by the colors. I'm not sure if much cooking takes place in this kitchen because it is immaculate. Every possible place that there would be dirt and grime is spotless. Not one crumb from the toaster oven. Not a splash of eggs on the stove or milk spots on the counter from a careless poured bowl of cereal. I walk into the next room and its a very nice garage with an old car in it. A refrigerator with beer inside is stacked to the brim. There is a pool table with balls looking like they were in mid game.

{SAN FRANCISCO}

2008-11-01T13:26:00.000-07:00

I'm walking across the Golden Gate Bridge and there is three layers of traffic rushing back and fourth. It is very windy from where I am as far as the vantage point is concerned. Even the cables of the bridge are moving slowly back and fourth as if the bridge is alive. As I walk the feeling that something is wrong takes ahold and then after that moment it starts to collapse in three sections. I try and run across it but am in the middle of it. Cars start to fall with the cement. The river is flowing rapidly. Then the piece I am walking on falls too. I fall sideways into the river with a velocity so fast and hard. We smash right into it. I start to swim while everything starts to sink. Under the water I could see everything sinking to the bottom. Pieces of steel, cars with lights on even people all moved closer and closer to the bottom while the rivers current took me away. The next moment after that I am somewhere else; in the middle of the rainforest. I remember something attached to my leg. So I felt it and it felt like a rope. I looked at the shore and saw a man trying to pull me in if i let him. I knew if he did pull me in I would be stuck on some island farm toiling day in and day out for nothing that would ever interest me. So I untied the rope and watched him pull it in. The moment the end of it got to him he saw nothing was on it, a very big anger took over him. So he opened a gate in the river and let out tons of giant snakes. They all came straight for me. Once they caught up to me they proceeded to bite me in the pubic bone area. They sinked their very large teeth into me. It hurt very much so. I was able to pull them all off in an instance. They couldn't do anything to me I realized, they just swallowed their own tails. I got out of the water and checked the wounds. There were many deep teeth marks. I asked the man if any of the snakes were poisonous. This hit me so hard because this was exactly the symbolism I needed to know in this moment. Then the man and I became good friends. He wanted to show me many things he said. So I jumped into a boat he happened to be in. He showed me his great land. There were all these wild animals everywhere. There were lions, tigers, bears, lemurs, sloths, and other combinations of animals made into animals. We drive down the river waving to all these exotic animals. The sun is slowly making its last appearance on the horizon, so I know that its time to be heading home; wherever that is. A baby lion runs toward me and jumps from the island and into the boat. I think for one moment that it is going to hurt me then realize that it is there to be playful with me. The moment I figure that out it jumps onto me. I teach it tricks and it listens and speaks to me. We continue off into the sunset...

{GUESSWORK}

2008-11-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

And there we were sitting in it. Like some great lethargic kick in the face and time stood still and as tall as any giant would if he had a quarter to give to the guy on the street corner begging for change. The horizon expanding like the polar caps melting and wax candles dripping as sweat. The atmosphere's decent to the sun's rising again. The pheonix in flames out of the ashes. This is just the start of this great journey but for now stares will just look. Then the first word will be spoken that I have written deep inside this catacomb.

{FALCONRY}

2008-11-01T10:21:00.000-07:00

There are things in the sky that I can see. They are the smallest details. Like the smell of your neck while we are in the middle of making love. Like the wind blows the leaves off of the trees. Like the hue inside the color of the pigment. Like the mess we make. Like the mechanism that makes it all fall apart. Why is this the time that I am most in love with you?

{EPILOGUE RANDOM OCCURANCE}

2008-11-01T06:41:00.000-07:00

Any statements that express or involve discussions with respect to predictions, goals, expectations, beliefs, plans, projections, objectives, assumptions or future events or performance are not statements of historical fact and may be "forward looking statements". Forward looking statements are based upon expectations, estimates and projections, at the time the statements are made that involve a number of risks and uncertainties which could cause actual results or events to differ materially from those presently anticipated. Forward looking statements in this action may be identified through the use of words such as: "projects", "foresee", "expects", "estimates", "believes", "understands", "will", "anticipates", or that by statements indicating certain actions "may", "could", or "might" occur.

Awake. The hum of the engines on flight 603 startle you just enough to come to. The crackling of your eyelids as you open them feel like you could have been sleeping for days, or years even. Everyone in the cabin is asleep. Outside the window of your window seat is complete blackness. If there were a light on below you, you would be able to see it. The only light on tonight is the moon. Its half quarter phase reminds you of the winking of an eye. Only an eye sees everything and is able to register these transactions into the mind where all the senses push and pull together. Close your eyes. Try and relax so that you may fall asleep. So that maybe you will remember why you got on the plane in the first place. You remember that it was important that you got on this particular flight, but for what? They call this short term memory loss.

Awake. This time there is no hum. There is rushing water on all sides. Those people in the cabin that were sleeping are all awake now and they are screaming. Fully functional people all trying to live. Just one more day more. Everyone hates when they are not in control of their own lives. In a perfect world none of this would have happened. I just look out my window at the rising tide and the deep dark ocean coming in. Coming to be. I realize I am not in control of my life. I am not god. I am not the all powerful being that is in charge of the card catalog of life. The only thing to really do now is to put my head in between my legs and let it all happen.

When you descend into the ocean at 450 miles per hour. 60 ft. per second. You don't have time to be a hero. You don't have time to really accept your life is over. To know you can never go back and fix all the mistakes. Patch together all the things you wished you had done. The shouldv'e, couldv'e, wouldve's. This is the time and it is now. There is no future. There is no past. There is just the present at the moment. All the screaming, the stewardesses, the rushing water up to our necks. The descending plane. It all exists for now. The ocean floor. The unknown. We all die alone. No one dies for us. Debt remains debt. Photographs, photographs. Songs, songs. Books, books, and so on and so fourth. To sleep.

We have now descended to our unoriginal location of arrival. Our skeleton crew just sits latched into their seats. Frozen in space. Frozen in time. The expressions on their faces are just the same as we approached the force of impact. Everyone is still screaming, only there are no sounds coming out. Everyone is still scared, only noone moves a muscle. Everyone is still embraced with eachother because they need something to hold onto. Something to secure them, that this is not the end. This is just pretend. This is not the way the story goes. This is just a temporary thing. The skeleton crew is still preparing for the disaster and will be as far as forever's time will go. When you are 23 mile below the ocean and in the middle of nowhere who is going to come rescue you? As far as I am concerned my life ended when I was born. I awoke the second I died. The ocen floor goes on forever. Whether you look right, left, up, down, forward, backwards. I look out the window and it is still pitch black. I dont even see the moons reflection. Just nothingness. I am not alone.

{I NEVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LIKE THIS}

2008-11-01T06:14:00.000-07:00

I thought we were all going to be that momentum, that locomotive you see on the news that got out of control and toppled over into a million different directions, but no one got hurt. I thought that we were a group of young kids all putting an individual voice in. I thought that it would completely disrupt the space and time continuum. I thought it would dismantle the engine of destruction and we would live guilt free and free of making mistakes along the way. I thought we would all be saviors saving ourselves. I thought we would not follow the patterns of our pre-packaged lives. I thought we would build our own accessories, our own adapter kits and they would be used universally instead of having to fish around for used parts and cheap labor. There would be no more junk cars in the middle of nowhere. No more empty houses with broken windows and every single time someone would smile our backs wouldn't shatter into a tiny million pieces from the cringe of knowing that not all of this is our fault. Fractures would heal just as fast as a chameleon would change from green to brown.

Now I drive down some long road with no turns and its pouring out. Its humid and the air conditioner button is stuck but will not go on. The windows keep fogging up and every time I open them the rain rushes in like some underwater orchestra playing the last song of the night, stubbing out the last cigarette we will smoke. I would like to think that my life is like a really expensive wine getting better with age and the taste smoothing out as the hours of our death slowly creep in. Instead I am surrounded by used car salesmen with imitation suits and ties based off of other imitation suits and ties. It reminds me that even lily pads on the pond are just expressive ways to make it seem like frogs really jump from them. Loudspeakers get loud and crackle. Alligator shoe salesmen's ankles fall apart. Messengers paint secrets of the world where not many people will be able to read them. Saying goodnight to a loved one becomes a thing of the past. This all comes to me while looking up in the sky at the sun. This all comes to me while I decode the gestures they are trying to tell us about.

{IRONING THE ORE}

2008-10-31T15:02:00.000-07:00

It entered inside my body at once and I was able to see it because at the moment of its entrance I stood in front of a mirror. It wasn't the me I thought I was to be. It clawed at my insides and stammered my thoughts. Twisted and distorted my sight. Showed me the void. The Dark magic. Came out of the flames of hellfire. Surrounded by an infinite force. Was I mocking it or was it mocking me? I studied its movement. I watched it walk. With every step I stepped with it. Every time I stopped it died just a little more. Immersed in secret silence I knew that it couldn't breathe in isolation.

{SWORD OF FIRE and THE CROSSED WIRES}

2008-10-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

The sword sliced through the crossed wires and cut them all. At that very moment the switchboard operator called and said what do we do now? The telephones are all down and I have no one to talk to anymore. So I said, Don't worry about it, take a vacation, see the world, visit old friends, get in touch with the parts of yourself that have been long gone for some time now. She said that she couldn't afford it though, she hadn't saved up enough money to do anything besides patch in chords over and over again and I said well then maybe its time you tried something new that didn't involve wires, chords, patches. Maybe its time to se something you have never seen before. You know how it all works. Your the best patch bay manager I know. Every time a call has gone through, you have always let me know and if there were any wires broken; you have always been able to re-patch them through to even the most important calls that were necessary for me to hear. That's what I am useful for she says and I can't leave you, there's so much work to be done, so much fixing to do. I say that I am all done with it and there's a reason why it's all been falling apart, there's a reason why this can;t be fixed and I advise you to leave at once before the cleaning crew gets there to remove a;; the broken equipment. It's all being replaced with a new technology. A technology that far surpasses the old machines, only this one is living. This one has the ability to feel and to think at the same time which is much more efficient that all those old wires. Well what about me she says, and I say exactly. She says, exactly what are you saying and I say that there's things bigger than all of us approaching. What does that mean. I say this time I am not exactly sure but tell the cleaning crew to make it look very nice and that the keys are under the mat by the door.

{BROKEN HOUSE PLANS}

2008-10-30T09:14:00.000-07:00

While walking down the street we made our beautiful plans. We promised that at this location, at this time that we would be there and there wouldn't be a problem in the world anymore. Well guess what. We were wrong. We were so wrong. We dressed everything up in bright elaborate colors and put light bulbs in each letter so that everyone could see it. So that everyone could see they were capable of it too. One thing I never considered: that along the way at one point or another the letters would break, they would fall off of the hinges that they were screwed onto. The lights would flicker and pop and anyone standing around looking at it would say: what the fuck was that about! The electricity would explode. Conduits fizzling and popping and then there'd be nothing left and we would look at all those beautiful and elaborate plans that sounded so good then realize that it was all the worlds wind blowing out of our mouths. The winds would cross the circumference of the world and still no one would know anything.

{ACCURATE OBSERVATIONS VS THE CYNICS}

2008-09-30T07:40:00.000-07:00

The next stop is 14th street Union Square; stand clear of the closing doors.

At that very instance a man started running through the turnstile and onto the train. He jumped right through the doors at the last second and barely made it through, but he did and that was all you really needed. Just that split second of luck, you took the chance and either you got through or you didn’t.

That was always a point I was trying to make when I wrote all this down, except not many seemed to understand the play on words and symbols that gave it all away. It became more of a mystery or a fable instead, to most. Everyone had something to say, too. They would say things about how it has to be done this way or that way. Completely missing the point of doing it in the first place instead of actually trying and failing and trying again.

They became the most dangerous weapon known to man; The high powered critic. Analytical savages with nothing good to say to anyone about anything, anymore. They became so hopeless and miserable with themselves that they had nothing to project. Always looking for the stroke of the ego or the pat on the head from someone they thought was sub-par to them.

One thing they forgot to think about though was that when they placed themselves on the top of the world on their own self sustaining pedestal, they only saw things from the surface. So, the people that they viewed sub-par to them were actually the ones with a deeper view and sure it was dark and depressing down there below the bids eye view, but there was progress happening. Only no one talked much about it. The change was taking place while people in the sky slept.

While people of the birds eye had their mediocre life and displayed it for everyone to know.

It is against the law to ride the train from the outside, please stand inside the train and do not walk between cars, thank you for riding with the MTA and have a pleasant day.

These people needed to hear these rules because they all followed each other around. They all learned from books and scriptures. If one person went against the grain then that would upset the balances and a whole domino effect would take its place of one person asking questions to another. Then a whole hoard of people would gather in the center of town with torches and they’d want their freedom. They’d want it now and it was hard to back out now, after all you have learned. This was the way things have become and were to be.

You then would get the feeling that you had been cheated out of something, but you weren’t entirely sure what. That’s when the questions would kick in. Just what the hell was freedom, if some man or woman sat there in front of you waving it in your face like a carrot to a rabbit. Just what the hell did any of this mean anymore when the rules finally became obsolete?

These people of high places driving their fancy cars and living in their lap of luxury started a new way of life that was merely just a game. Something to pass the time. Complete with its play by play dramas and triumphs. You didn’t realize it though, when you were apart of it, because you were too blind to see it and you would make sure that you were only surrounded by what was familiar that way nothing could taint the vision of your new holocaust. The one that everyone keeps on saying is going to happen one day. Only it is happening now as we speak.

I'm tired, I'm hungry. I have no place to live. I need some help. Anything you can do to help would really help me. I need a dollar, a quarter, a nickel, a penny. Anything. Ma'm, can you help? Sir, can you help? Ma'm, can you help?

Fine, fuck you. Fuck You. FUCK YOU. I don't need your fucking help. I don't need anything. Someone will help me from the next car. fucking assholes. (Slam, the door slams.)

Four people are in a living room and they are watching television. One of them has a remote in hand and is going through the channels. They stop with the news:

I am Amy Smith and I am here at what is known to be the worst car accidents in human history.

If you look over there on the horizon you can see the metal damage and as well as the fires of destruction that the mayhem has caused. Late breaking details tell us that it was caused by a series of failed electrical conductors that seemed to have blown up making all of the lights of the city go out. If you know what it is like to have no street lights working then you already know what its like and how gruesome it can be. On the scene of another section of the accident we have Kent Wreckman who will share with us another point of view of the carnal wreckage.

Kent, can you tell us more about what is going on where you are, at this very moment.

Well Amy, I am here in the middle of all the chaos and as you can see behind me there are a few cars piled up and dead bodies at the wheels of these machines. If you look over there you can really see where the cars just started pouring in and no one knew what to do, but by the time they did. It was too late. I was able to find a few people still alive, who came out of their cars wondering what had happened. All out of it and trying to regain a sense of reality.

Here with me is John Thompson, local volunteer firefighter and local resident of this neighborhood. John, could you tell us exactly what happened at the moment that it happened, on this gruesome day.

Well, you see I was minding my own business, like I always do everyday. I was walking down the street and all of a sudden like the change in the weather, everything went haywire. The lights went off and the cars just started crashing into each other and it was so surreal. Words can’t even explain the monstrosities that I witnessed in those very moments, it was like a giant cloud just took over and before you knew it, it was over and people were screaming. The whole bit. People just died behind the wheels of these massive machines. It was all twisted metal and glass. I couldn’t believe my eyes, one minute you think you are going for a walk and the next the whole world is in chaos and disorder.

You heard it first people; Chaos and Disorder ruling this mile radius of the city. (Channel Changes, click.)

(There is a critic on the television completely ripping apart the new Jack Johnson memoirs.)

The kids never going to make it anywhere, he's an artistic mess. He starts shit and never knows how to finish anything. I read the last stuff he wrote and it was just an orchestra of nothing. Crazy events always changing with different characters and faces with separate personalities. You just felt like you were being put on a rollercoaster and then he had the guts to throw in some life long lesson, like that was going to tie the whole story together. Like, life lessons really teach us anything in the first place. That’s all the cynics do is observe and completely destroy the actual events that happen. Distorting the possibilities of our reality. Ill never understand why he wastes so much time doing a million and one things. (click)

We are live on the scene with Kent Wreckman in the terrible accident that caused the nation so much personal tragedy and heartache today. Kent can you tell us what its like down there now? Has any of the smoke or debris been cleaned up or cleared out? We are also told that almost everyone involved has either died or been seriously injured and emergency services are so backed up that even people that have a chance of survival will die too, from the lack of medical assistance.

That’s right Amy, its ugly down here and it’s even beginning to be investigated because of possible ideas that this wasn’t just some random event; this might be the work of pure evil. Evil so evil that when using the word it cancels out itself. That’s how elusive of a terror we are dealing with here. When the lights all went out no one knew when to go because they are so used to having the green light go off telling them it is their turn to go. So everyone all went at once, thinking it was their turn to go and what you see here is a big mess. Sources say that if the lights had in fact been working that none of this would have ever happened and if none of this had ever happened then the world would be a much better place and people would live happily ever after.

(Meanwhile another survivor climbs out of a car that is on top of another car, he is then hit lightly by a car driving by the scene. He gets up quickly and begins to walk with a slight limp. The driver of the vehicle takes off. The man yells saying he got his license plate number. The camera pans to the action.)

Sir, Sir. Are you alright? We just saw what happened? What are you going to do now? What was it like out there, being trapped in the middle of it all? What is your view on this catastrophe sir?

What the fuck does it look like, I just got hit by one of them fucking cars and you want to ask me how I feel, what do you think it feels like when you get hit by a car? You think it feels good? My view on this catastrophe is that you should get that fucking camera out of my face and go out there and help some of these people.

(The man gets a bit violent and rips the camera out of the camera mans hands and begins to tell his own news story.)

My view is that everyone watching this fucking television crap should get off their fat fucking asses and do something! All of you, your all fat fucking lazy Americans. Sitting at home, watching the worlds events like its a fucking soap opera. Like it isn't fucking real. Wake up. The soap operas over people. This is real. Be very afraid.

Sir! You cannot speak like that on live television. We are live right now! Is that how you want to be remembered? I hope you know sir, you cannot take any of those words back, and we can’t go back and edit any of that.

Yeah well, here’s live life. You want live? Here it is.

(The man punches the news anchor in the face, and throws the camera onto the ground smashing it into a million pieces. The television fades to black. The man continues walking. The cameraman helps the news anchor with his wounds.)

The four people around the television get pissed and move up from their seats.

What the fuck was that all about, that was just getting really good?

Why they got to fuck up the whole show, what’s going to happen next?

{5 ANTE MERIDIEM}

2008-09-30T07:37:00.000-07:00

Its 5am or maybe something that resembles the time. Where did it go? Where did all the people of our lives go? It’s almost as if they all disappeared completely and I am left here standing lost in my own self involved world and I see my own Alice through the looking glass reflection on the other side, curiously staring back. What’s in a reflection besides the staring of the same sets of eyes and the same crooked smile? I guess it’s really nothing but someone just staring back at you while you stare back. It’s a big contest where both of the competitors are you. So who wins? Who’s the one that looks away and breaks the contact? It’s a case of what nourishes me, also destroys me…

This was me trying to write it all down. With as much loathing and curiosity to power a huge fucking rocket ship that could take the rest of us away from this god awful place. That place didn’t exist, though. That place was the gates of hell made to look like the huge castle in the sky and the unicorns jumping over the rainbow. The type of shit you see in movies and you see it morph once they get past the pleasantries. The gate bars melt at high burning degrees and the flames just engulphs everything around you. The unicorns turn into some weird looking goblins that are in no mood to chase you through the maze of your life. They want to taste and drain you of the very thing everyone was always after. Your soul. They would do anything in their power to take it from you. Hell even when you were alive, it was quite the kicking and screaming match just to walk down the street and not have some asshole try and tell you your worth.

What is love and what is life? Is it the constant question with the constant answer? The stinging of the wounds after you fall off your bicycle and scrape your knee on the ground. Is it our friends who help us up and our beloved mothers who bandage up the wound and tell us to never give up just because we fell once. Is it the sharing of the moons full capacity or an endless conversation that could span on for lifetimes and even after we die, someone else would take our place because of the cancers of inspiration and motivation. I think maybe that’s just what some of it is. In its most vulnerable and simplistic forms.

This is my homage of friendship. A few words shared for the ones of the road on the adventure of one lifetime. A lifetime that should not be taken for granted. A lifetime that you and I share. Remember also, that same moon we all look at, those same stars and buildings. Other people see them too, others write about them. That’s the only way I was ever able to find these words, because whether I knew it or not. It was implanted in me by old souls and new.

{ALL SENSES ARE MASTERPIECES WONDERFULLY WRITTEN}

2008-09-30T07:36:00.001-07:00

Oh Canada, I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know if I should start telling you how weird you are or if you are the nicest person I have ever met in the entire world. I am unsure even when I walk through your streets. I look at your people. I drink your coffee. I watch kids play hockey at one o’clock in the morning and they get along. They even have fun. That’s the kind of thing that America has a very hard time with I have noticed as of late. The final frontier where everyone says you will retire and finally say that you made it and it is the resting grounds of everything you ever wanted out of life but could never find until now but I am not sure I really believe in all this shit. I was thinking about all this as I was almost anally raped and finger fucked by the lovely border patrol while just crossing the border. It didn’t appear to be anything out of the ordinary for them. Just a friendly hello, from the cold lined roads of a new land and an old one right behind us, but that is also a whole other story between myself and I. We finally made it across and it was high time that we finally did something. These are our lives and even though it is completely frozen over like hell there was still some warmth to the place. It wasn’t exactly hell though, it might have been somewhat related, like hells cousin or something of the sort, but those are just some of the details that I have to give you for you to understand just exactly where we were coming from and just what we were doing in the frozen tundra land.

I walk down your streets and I see so much beauty and decay. It leaves you wondering is this just another place I could be. I look out the window of the top of the northern world and I see a place I could live. I see an opportunity to seize the day but the question is; had it been there the whole time already? You look out the window and you see little French cafes, little pubs and people walking hand in hand who are in the most love you can see it in their hearts as they walk by and the way that they stare at you and let you know you could be apart of it all too, you just have to be open and ready for it. The shimmer and the glimmer is almost unbearable because over where I am from even the most beloved have their hands on kryptonite everyday and how they handle it is beyond me. Its not anyone’s fault to come from the land of the decrepit but if you ever get a chance to see what’s beyond the trash heaps and the marketing junkies you may see what truly lies within the hearts of other people of the land. That’s why I am writing this letter to you oh Canada because I am unsure of what we have had and what we may be. Is this meant to be? Is this what we were supposed to be doing? I don’t really know, do you? I don’t know at all, but you know what that’s one thing I do know…

I know it took me a little while to gather my thoughts and figure out just what I really want to say to you while it is all fresh and in my head. Maybe I could just pause right here at this very moment and take some time to recollect. Maybe ascertain the meanings of these words and find the meaning in them. Always trying to find the meaning. Always coming up with answers but finding many, too many god damned options that I don’t even know which one to go with. That’s a good problem in life to have maybe the ability to be unsure of anything you whole entire life but to get a lot of stuff done. Still I don’t know the answer. Do you? Are they all the answers? You could combine all of them and still have not one fucking clue. We will know all the answers but sorry we will be dead. That’s the whole affliction between life and death. Seems like we will know everything right when we close the curtains and there will be nothing more to look at. I can’t supply you with all the answers of the world but I do know that I love you in so weird way and everything that happened meant something. Now I know I have said a lot and I hope you have been paying attention to the words because next week we will have a huge test on all of these subjects and I will be thoroughly disappointed if you do not pass. I hope you can handle it because I know that it’s a bit of a ballsy thing to do but this is very important to me that I know just where everything is. After that we will move on from this then move onto the next step in life and that’s doing something. Even though we are doing something everyday. We don’t have to rush the process of creativity because slow and steady can win the race. Look at the tortous and the hare for instance. Dogs are Shepard’s too. It’s the kind of thing that is like a wine it gets better with age. I look at the people out the window and I see lights on and big yellow wallpaper. I don’t care for yellow that much but that’s because I don’t think that yellow will really care much about me. Enough with all this jargon and nonsense. You probably don’t understand anyways, or maybe you do. We should sit down and talk about this sometime soon and decide what we will do. Should I go or should I stay. If I stay I am sure we can work things out. If I go and never come back, I don’t know. I think I might actually miss you, a lot. I don’t know if that’s some sort of unhealthy attachment or if this is real.

Dear America, I know your sad and kind of down in the dumps. Things are going to get better though. Its only a matter of time, you just have to give it a chance. If only you’d stop shitting where you are eating all the time and dumping all the worlds problems on yourself. It’s never a good idea to do anything of the sort. You have to eat off the same plate and that’s pretty disgusting. I don’t know what we are going to do with you. You don’t really seem to know what you are doing. The people who are apart of your part of the four corners of the world just continue to trudge on without even looking up from the ground. I also though that maybe you might have had a little self control but it never seemed to really work out that way. It all was because you just fucked around too much. You fucked around with China, Russia, and Germany and then you went onto the French but they weren’t having any part of this orgy manifestation. This bizarre love triangle is a lot like that game twister where the people would get wrapped up in each other. That’s the kind of shit you should try and steer clear of. I am sure you know what I am talking about. I thought maybe you’d have a little more self-control. It only seemed logical, it was plain obvious because the answer was already right in front of your face. It was as plain as day and you didn’t even fucking see it. I guess no ones perfect you never really know and everything that has happened is also subject to personal interpretation. But, anyways I am getting a little off course to my original intentions. You just need a new leader maybe to influence you to do the right things but that leader is inside you. Then one day you will see the headlines of god on the front page and sad, sad people that cant even fit into their own suits anymore. In closing I guess basically what I am trying to say is goodbye and good luck.
.gnirebmemer

There were bright lights and lizard like people with red faces and broken soles on their shoes. There were twisted cannons and distorted faces in the mirrors. Giant people with legs like oak trees and people so small that even I felt like a giant amongst them.
This was the kind of place where people looked like they were having a good time but always a sense of some kind of undercurrent that once this was over you would be pulled out to the sea. If sharks didn’t get you then there was always the atrophy of muscles and a realization that giving up was not an option but drowning was inevitable. There are still some human beings out there in the world who haven’t lost touch with everything just yet. I know this because I saw a young man pick up a very small sparrow looking bird and placed it in a tree away from al the lead feet trampling the sidewalks. These people who put divots in cement have certainly lost their way. The compasses are flying in circles and hindsight is only as good as a blind man in a shooting contest with no thumbs. Similar to bicycle races that go absolutely nowhere, except in circles.

Chester was his name and he smelled like the pit of hell if it has opened up and showed us everything that it really was rather than watered down confusions with people used as the subjects to reinterpret the confusion and make it even more confusing than it was to begin with. My grandfather was there amongst the dirty pigeons and legions of blinds leading the blinds to certain doom. My mother was caught in the middle of all this feticide adultery. The fucking Ferris wheel would not just go fast enough around. The man at the wheel thought it would be funny not only to torture me with this weird man I would come to never know again but the fucking stench was the worst. Tarps filled with aborted livers and colostomy bags with a splash of vodka sauce and some ginger root. That was the only depiction I could give this foulness. Chester the child molester only this young boy would tear his eyes out had he even thought to touch my knee and then he did. Paralyzed by all the weirdoes my family had brought around from years ago. I let that one go. I let him have his free parking token but then next one would cost him his sight. I could only envision mountain lions attacking him and ripping both his legs from his torso or maybe even the bolts from the carriage of the Ferris wheel giving way and all the bright colors fading to a bright white.

My grandfather was like a wild boar that wore nothing but fake alligator shoes and a bathrobe or at least some outfit that wasn’t far from the mark. There were roughly thirty clocks on the wall ranging from cuckoo clocks, Lionel train clocks and other assorted gadgets that would ring, scream and chime. I have always thought that the birds wanted to jump off the diving board at twelve pm everyday but that was just my imagination because every time they had the chance to do it they just stood frozen. Embarrassment? Cold feet? We will never know.

The inventor of more problems; if I had to coin a term of what to describe him as it would be just that. The things that made me think of this besides the endless porn collection and the mothball filled closets would be the collection of used furniture that would be collected off the sidewalks in the neighborhood. We would visit him and he would insist on selling us a broken rocking chair for eighty dollars because it had so much value that ended up being some non-descript nonsense. He was convinced that junk would sell for more than the things of the same fashion that were brand new. The character was more of the selling point than the condition.
Retelling this story straight from the witness inside my head brings me back to some places I have actually yet travel since the days that these events happened. Have I created all these things to happen when god and I broke the contract? Was the fine print really too fine to read or was some used car salesman the one to blame for my lien owed to this life?

I walk across these fields of desperation with the coldest of cold January’s thrown on my back. The route I am taking leads to better ways of life. Ways that make knowledge and time well worth spent. It’s that kind of trade off where you lose big first and win in the end. You appreciate it because after the failure comes that final success. There’s the road behind me. A car travels towards us at outrageous speeds and I cannot tell if it is going down the road or up it. Inching its way to the future and possible final destination. That place where dreams are dreams within dreams and we control every movement. Its in the bedroom where she is undressing. I know the situation all too well that I second think about what I am really doing. I second think my second thought and just take over the situation to get it over with. Should as be as fearful of this lady passing me by with cold stone eyes and familiar glance of some diluted version of sheer terror. This is my last thought as I drift off into a land of never using the word never. I awaken to a familiar room that is not mine and still some lady sleeps rests without a sound. I feel like a paper mache` figure being thrown into the river. I turn on my light and I am alone. It’s all just shadows on the wall. Oak branches outside my window and faint light from the moon. The sound of a mouse disrupts my thoughts. There may even be two of these fuckers running around and I can never find that little hole in the wall that they always hide away in, the one that leads to the other side of a fictional hell. I am going to eradicate all those little fuckers.

Polyphonic sounds of phones ringing from the bed table. Her majesty my mother is going deaf but could talk to you forever and anything past that. She is slowly losing to the grips of sharp nails and saliva running down cheeks. The fridge is filled with many serve yourself meals. No more maids. No more high-class slavery. These are the kind of surplus left overs from when the Nazi’s abandoned their sacred Reich. They taste like wet cardboard left in an oily New York City puddle. The ships are in the harbor and the frost sticks to my lips like metal-to-metal scraping. The job hunt continues on and on. Bicycle wheels and lost and found stares. These people take such a disinterested interest in my work but waste sixty minutes of my life. Flying at bricks walls as crash test dummies without vehicles. I feel like I am dying everywhere that is so familiar. That place where air circulates in sewer grates and everything is lost in a gray haze. Messages from god fly from the sky giving us lists of things to buy.

{SEEING THE SCENE}

2008-09-30T07:32:00.000-07:00

Sunny Memorial Day morning, kids waving flags, families walking to the parade, you careening down Elm Street in your sunglasses and straw hat in your navy blue mom-mobile. It's Memorial Day, it's hot. I'd donned the requisite shorts and sandals and was schlepping across the street to buy my train ticket for Monday. Mind you it's hot and swampy and I hadn't had any coffee.

I'm crossing the street and unknown to me I must have delayed you in your pursuit to get Junior dropped off because you edged next to me and when I looked to see if you were going to graze me with your mirror you shouted "YOU DON'T LOOK THAT GOOD." WTF?! Are you kidding me? I'm sorry, was it my strutting across the street in my feather boa and over-sized sunglasses that set you off - oh wait, that's right - I wasn't wearing one, or strutting, or doing anything that remotely deserved your wrath and snarky comment. You Stepford freaks put on pearls and St. Johns to drop your tots at preschool. You're in 3" heels to do your grocery shopping. Don't act like I was some sort of pri-madonna using the zebra crossing as my own personal catwalk to impede your transit. Admit it, your daily routine probably consists of little more than being in a hurry to go nowhere.

I missed a connection with a couple things that day - the time to tell you that while I may not look that good I certainly look better than you, you menopausal Botox-laced breeder and/or (because either would have worked for me) a hot cup of joe in my hand that I could have hurled through your open window and sloshed all over your mommy & me Lilly dress and newly lasered face.

Listen, I’m sorry if your husband kicks back three cocktails on the metro north bar car just so he can put up with you and your ME-ME-ME kids. I’m sorry that little Sally is chubby and will never be as popular you’d like and that Jimmy has acne and throws like a girl. Get over it, get your own life and stop taking out your misery on pedestrians.

{LUDLOW CAB RIDE}

2008-09-21T18:06:00.000-07:00

I just feel like everything is a fucking lie.
---
I know, like we've been cheated, the big jokes on us.
---
(a cab slowly drives by, we see a very beautiful woman pawing at the window like a cat. The woman seductively waves at one of our characters and our character waves back. The cab stops and the door opens.)

-the woman speaks first
---
get in.
---
what about my friend?
---
he will call you back, it's just for a little while.
---
I guess this is the path then, the road split in the middle, I will be back buddy.
---
what the fuck!
---

what was the first thing you thought when you saw me?
---
hmm, your eyes and probably the pawing at the window.
---
yes of course it was my eyes, it was my hair too. mmm.
---
yeah, your hairs pretty neat.
---
I know I am hot, you don't have to tell me.
---
(inside head: ok?)
---
what do you do for a living?
---
I do a few different things.
---
oh, so you dabble here and there and everywhere.
---
yeah, pretty much.
---
that's hot, I just totally got done watching the virgin suicides and I totally want to change my name to LUX.
---
Lux is a neat name.
---
I can totally make any guy want me, see how I got you to get into the cab.
---
it's mind over matter really. I made the choice to get in.
---
Is it? You don't think my seductive quality had anything to do with it? They didn't take you over and persuade you to get into the cab with me?
---
well, it certainly helped a little.
---
So, my parents totally work for the Government and they won't talk about it with me. It's all top secret and stuff but they are totally supportive.
---
thats great, its great to have support.
---
totally.
---
I pretty much work for everything I have and am trying to focus on what I need to do so I work enough to support myself and spend the rest of the time working on projects.
---
oh, so your like one of those lazy artists.
---
naw, I'm not lazy, just like variety in life.
---
(cab driver says: ok sixteen dollars)
---
do you want to pay for the cab?
---
naw, you invited me in, I am the guest of the moment.
---
oh, will you buy me a drink at least?
---
sure, a drink, no problem.
---
(they get out of cab and head to a club: at door)
---
I am bringing him in ok?
---
yeah, fine. make sure he takes care of you, you hear me buddy, she's a wild one.
---
sure.
---
enjoy the evening kids.
---
So, I pretty much know everyone who runs this place, and pretty much everyone in here.
---
neat.
---
yeah, it's all about who you know.
---
you don't think it has anything to do with what you know?
---
no, because what you know doesn't get you through the front door of this place.
---
buy me that drink right there, now.
---
what do you want, that drink doesn't look like anything I know of.
---
Kama-kazi on the Rocks.
---
(how ironic)
---
(they sip their drinks, casually talk about nothing and in the middle she walks away. our chracter is left at the bar by himself, he drinks alone. Another woman begins to speak to him.)
---
are you here alone?
well, right now yes, but not in general.
---
oh. did you come with some girl?
---
that's quite a story in itself. this girl was passing by in a cab and stopped and I got in and ended up here.
---
haha, are you serious?
---
yes, for sure, kinda crazy huh?
---
yes, but funny and cute too at the same time.
---
(a great conversation happens between them for about 30 minutes, they get closer to each other and really start to open up, then the other woman from across the bar sees what is happening and comes over immediately: she starts yelling at the guy)
---
who's this slut you are talking to?
---
slut, what do you mean slut? she's actually a pretty nice girl.
---
you see this guy here(to woman)don't talk to him, he's mine.
---
oh you own him? that's too bad because he seems like a pretty nice guy and you seem like a total bitch.
---
look who's talking slut!
---
ladies, cut the shit, c'mon.
---
oh my god, do you really want to talk to this slut?
---
yeah, I do actually, maybe if you hadn't taken off for 30 minutes I wouldn't have met such a cool woman.
---
fuck you then, fuck you!
you know what?
---
what?
---
your a fucking asshole.
---
am I?
---
yeah, I got you into VIP and your totally acting like an asshole.
---
really, is that the truth?
---
no what else?
---
what?
---
I have the power to get you kicked out of here.
---
you know what, I will save you all the time and energy, I am going to leave,(sorry baby it was great to meet you)
---
fine then, leave. wait...
---
see ya, nice to meet you.
---
wait wait...you forgot something.
---
oh, did i? what was that?
---
this(she kisses very hard, forcefully)
---
here, take my number, call me tomorrow
---
don't bother, I can already tell how we would get along.
---
fine then fuck you.
---
best of luck in everything.
---

that was fucking ridiculous, what the fuck is wrong with the people in this city?

---

(telephone rings)
hey, yeah sorry about that, well, I didn't know that it was going to happen like that.
yeah..totally. your right everything is a lie, a fantasy.

{GUYFRIEND to GUYFRIEND}

2008-09-21T17:53:00.000-07:00

it's so weird, I go to get on the train and there she is.
---
well have you tried standing on a different part of the platform?
---
no, I haven't tried that yet, but that's a good idea. I am intrigued though at the same time.
---
go for it then, intrigued or not. you see her everyday, maybe that means something?
---
sure it sounds good, but you know how women are. It's all fun and games and then they rip your heart out or you rip theirs out.
---
there's no peace without war.
---
you really believe that?
---
well, when's the last time you ever got along with someone you never had a fight with?
---
I suppose you are right but women are crazy, they want everything once they know that they have your full attention.
---
I don't know if they want everything.
---
yeah, they want you, the whole thing. the body, the mind, the thoughts, the house, the kids, your money, everything.

{GIRLFRIEND TO GIRLFRIEND}

2008-09-21T17:40:00.000-07:00

yeah...and I see him like everyday, at the same time, the same stop and it's like he doesn't even see me.
---
what do you expect from someone you don't even know?
---
maybe a smile or something. Is that too much to ask?
---
what's the point though?
---
It'll make me realize he sees me, then I can go up to him and talk to him.
---
what if he never smiles?
are you going to wait around that long for a smile?
---
well, I do see him everyday.
---
so?
---
what if this is the guy that I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with?
---
some guy you see on the train?
---
why not? crazier things have happened.
---
I see this homeless guy everyday and he smiles at me with the teeth that are left, does that mean he's my soulmate?
---
he's a homeless man though, uncomparable. what kind of future could you have with him? he has no home.
plus, this guy has the most amazing blue eyes ever, we would make the best babies ever.
---

{DESCENDING ASCENDER/UNAPOLOGETIC}

2008-09-21T16:48:00.000-07:00

I was standing on the edge of a decision. A decision that needed my immediate attention. Teeter-tottering if you will. I was trying to find out one good reason why I shouldn't just end it all. Right here. Right now. Then my fucking brain, the cerebral guider kicked in, as it always does. The choice it had was to terminate. To cease and desist all forward moments and memories. Of course he took it a little personally. Started saying things back like; you mean to tell me that this is it. This is what you lived your whole life for up to now. This pathetic little insignificant moment. For this moment of your own selfish, self glory. This is how you want people to remember you? Some sad young fool who didn't even finish his life properly or give himself a chance to see the difficulties through.

Now at this moment it was hard to not really hear what he was saying. There was no point in reasoning with him. But part of me inside my body kept saying, your ready, do it. You don't think about it too much. You just go for it. You also hope that when you hit the water that everything turns black and you don't remember a thing. All 28 years of it and beyond. But you know that someone will mention your name occasionally and how what a shame it was you did this to yourself. That if you could have thought of the consequences, you wouldn't have done it. But life has a funny way of waking you up even when you think you are wide awake for it all. It's true what is said about how when you are high up above it and the whole city is watching, when the open sky and light beckon you there is a moment of hesitation. There is a moment of doubt.

What is life worth anyways? Is it worth your watch? All the money in your bank account? Your car? Your friends? It's a series of twists and turns. Characters change. Introductions turn into familiarities. Sometimes even monotonous routines. People still die and people still live when your gone. The world never forgets because you are apart of it but you remain some part of vacant history. Some fleeting glimpse of a hole with nothing in it.

So I hesitated, so what? You would have done the same thing if you ever brought yourself to this. It was a better idea then all the other ideas I had that involved jumping in front of buses, trains while mothers and daughters waited to get on. Who wants to see that. Up here its just the sea, the nothingness and me. So I am weak because I second guessed but would have been weaker had I pulled through with all my might. I know I wouldn't have wanted anyone to come to my funeral and see me all bloated and disfigured. Then fell alienated because all that would be left of me is a shell. This vehicle that drives us all home. I'll just blame it on my insanity or the full moon or my parents. It'll be easier to divide up all the pain into tiny little fragments and hand them out to millions of different people. I could even make a pie chart in my will so I can give little slices to everyone.

I guess one things for sure. It wasn't time yet. This just all started. This whole process. I could fill you in on the who did what, the when and the how it all happened but then I would have to write a book the size of the bible and I am sure that my perceptions of skewed, distorted, misconstrued. I could write all about it but it would all just amount to a fucking accident and even then everyone who sees it, has their own idea of how it all went down. Even just narrowing it down to ten people still fucks up the whole thing. One man would say that there was a car involved, another woman would say that the pedestrian caused it but running right into the road throwing rocks at the drivers. Someone else would claim terrorism was the cause, then to counter balance that the terrorist would actually be a government official. Ideas are dangerous, but accidents will always happen.

---

I forgot what it sounded like when the wind blew through trees and birds swooped and soared in Indian Summer Skies. Quite triumphant sounds even when you have your ear to the ground listening to the echoes speak.

{A YOUNG MAN DRIVES}

2008-09-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

a car south down Broadway. He listens to the radio. The radio is playing some sounds from the early sixties. Maybe its the beatles. We cannot tell because its not loud enough for us to hear. Rain hits the window which then gets hit off by the wiper blade which then falls down onto the ground and forms into small little pools of water.

Another car passes by the car of the young man. This car is going much faster. Inside is an old man smoking a corn cob pipe with a very foul smelling tobacco. The windows are a bit fogged up from the combination of smoke and the exhaling. The old man flips the switch for the heat and it immediately clears the smoke and the fog from the windows. A signal turns red ahead of us and both cars come to a halt next to each other. The man turns on his radio and an am talk radio station comes on. The man on the station talks about the possibility of peace treaty talks in the middle east. The man lights a match, continues smoking and turns off the radio in the middle of the discussion. The light turns green and the man hits the gas, the car moves. Both cars travel alongside of each other. The rain continues to get stronger. It begins to get a little darker. We see people walking down the street with umbrellas. The people walk in a zig zag kind of way, almost bumping into each other. The wind blows harder and some umbrellas buckle, then fly away out of the hands of people who thought that had a firm grip.

The young man makes a left hand turn onto Bond Street and continues on. The old man makes a right hand turn and continues down Bond street and straight onto Bowery to the nearest gas station. The young man and the old man may never see each other again.

The old man pulls into a gas station on Houston and Lafayette. He breaks for a pedestrian who walks right out into front of him at the last moment. He puts the radio back on and it is still talking about peace treaty talks. He turns the keys off the moment he pulls in. He walks to the gas station and goes in. Pays for his gas and walks off into the night leaving his car behind as well as everything in it.

{ONE TIME I HAD THIS DREAM}

2008-09-19T17:47:00.000-07:00

A long time ago and it involved some monkeys in Africa. A whole bunch of them. Like 100 of them. They weren't just the usual sit in a tree, eat bananas and make lots of noise monkeys. These monkeys were just a little bit different. Mainly the way they acted. Aside from that they were all sitting in chairs at tables with big pads of paper strewn across. They looked like they were trying to decipher some sort of code. All wrapped up in trigonometry problems. Problem after problem never seeming to get anywhere. I remember walking up to one and he started to speak with me in a very intellectual way. He also handed me a map and said that I was to go on an adventure across africa that would lead me to the solution of all the problems ever.

So I walked and I walked and walked. I came to a giant field filled with metal machines everywhere. Huge dinosaur bones fell from the sky and landed into the tops of these machines. They would be ground up into tiny bits and spewed into another field on fire. The fires got bigger and bigger as the bits flew out. Manned at each of these machines was a dead, tattered asian person who was completely naked but still turning the wheels to keep the machines going. The people screamed in horror collectively as they did it all, and they never stopped.

{TOKYO 2010: PRECOGNITIVE}

2008-09-19T02:12:00.000-07:00

Oddly shaped buildings that resemble scenes out of the Jetsons and Fibonacci numbers put together are the scene I come to. Very white skies, not blue, not gray. We arrive to my building that I live in, its a new building that has just been built for people like me who are very wealthy. I am even greeted by ten different people along the way like I am someone important but I don't feel like anyone. Just some guy, with some key card to one of the worlds fanciest worlds where everything is exactly the same. Same smiles. Same daydreams. Same service.

We arrive to the elevator and its not just some elevator and my mother is there with me. She looks very happy to be here with me. The elevator is not just some elevator, it reminds me of the bank drops that they have at the drive thru windows that suck this plastic container to the teller on the other side of the windows. You put the deposit in and shoop, it gets thrown to the other side. Only this one has no particular track that it follows, its completely open to go wherever it wants to. It goes all ways. We get in, I slide my key card and we are off in all kinds of directions. It is so intense it makes me sick. It travels so fast you don't get a moment to really take anything in around you, then boom you are home. The door opens and you walk into your palace in the sky. Its all glass, you see all the other buildings all around you and its a conglomerate of buildings. No one knows anyone anymore. It feels like a sad lonely existence around millions of people.

Then from out of nowhere, turmoil breaks out, war cries, things start exploding and your thinking to yourself how about 15 minutes ago you were just on the ground. You sit there and watch things happen in the streets that makes no logical sense to you. Fire breaks out. people are running scared, frantic, running for their lives. Airplanes are flying in bombing and you realize you are in the sky, in a giant glass ship. Then your hit. The hit takes place right below you and the glass ship starts sinking forward slowly falling and you see the effects that gravity shows you.

We are stuck on the glass and falling very slowly, still attached to the nexus but scared as shit. We hit another building and get stuck there. The glass starts shattering in pieces as debris is falling from other buildings above us. This is all very unexpected. The building next to us takes a hit and we are off again falling. Falling to the depths of the ground. Luckily we get caught again just in the right time before we would smash to the ground and be crushed to tiny pulps. We get out and run. Chaos everywhere in the streets. Torn banners and flags and ribbons. People screaming. I notice from all sides of different streets army officers are killing everyone with sprays from uzis and machine guns. Some people escape. We run as fast as we can past these men shooting and somehow are able to escape. Its a labyrinth maze of so much weird architecture and I realize this is my mind. This is the dream of my mind slowly killing itself.

{MENACING NAMES OF PEOPLE LONG GONE}

2008-09-18T18:20:00.000-07:00

Start at the surface right where water breaks and ripples. the water moves with itself. it moves upwards, backwards, sideways, left ways and right ways. along with all kinds of other ways both linear and non-linear. it ebbs and tides and it waves goodbye. they say you only have to piss in the ocean to see it rise and I have seen it rise. oh, I have seen it rise. I have seen sea levels so low old skeletons of ships dried right out only to be covered back up by the menacing weight. I've seen the bottom underneath it all in dreams with washed up towns, washed up fleets. I've seen airplane crashes while watching myself die in the windows reflection. Seeing the faces all around me trapped in time. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Unable to control the destiny. One thing I never saw was this...

Fran brings me a coffee. It's the third one I have had and I'm a bit jittery. A bit on the neurotic side but still keeping the wit and humor coming. we are sitting with friends. not the kind of friends that last forever, more of the kind that you see sometimes. the ones that are nice to you to your face but then you accidentally walk in on conversations about you just at the right time and you say something oh please continue, I am intrigued, then dead silence. well I guess it was the wrong time for you.

They call it a bottomless cup of coffee because they keep filling it up. topping it off so to speak. they just keep it coming until you stop drinking it and let it get cold and you see that nice layer of ice like cream sitting at the top. once this has happened they figure it out. the grade c, made in some chemical factory by people who don't know the first thing about coffee has finally done its trick.

There's nothing to talk about. nothing. my silence fills the air. I know what's going on all around me. I can tell you all about the chitter chatter of who just got fired at work, so and so's new baby that has made so and so's sister jealous because she recently had to have her tubes tied. I can hear the cocaine being sniffed in the bathroom by the dishwasher who is so sick of this dead end job/life. I can hear the arm of a grappling machine that grabs stuffed animals for twenty five cents if you are lucky enough to figure out how it works. It's got a trick, just like everything else that has to do with machines. I can hear so much going on all around me that I have completely tuned out the conversation that I am supposed to be apart of.

Amos. Amos! she says. Are you even listening? Are you even paying attention to me? I give the usual nod and wave like I always do to at least show that I am somewhat present in the conversation but do I actually care is a whole other subject. So, what do you think? she says. what do I think? and this part kills me. I don't even know anymore, my mind says. I don't even know what I am doing here. who are these people? do they really even give a shit about what they are talking about or is it just filler for a nice night that could be spent in quiet contemplation. So, what do I think? What do I think about what?

You mean the whole time you haven't even been paying attention? thats her follow up. I was paying attention, I guess I got lost in thought. They finally hand me a clue. Do you think Bush is going to win or is it going to be Kerry? they all say it at once, ike my opinion is going to change everything. like they had been planning this for centuries.

It doesn't really matter to me, I respond. It's all the same shit. One guy gets into office, plays king of the universes until it gets so bad that we want a new guy to replace him. This has been the problem since day one. I also remark with a nice slogan, my own slogan just to touch things up a bit, give them something familiar. "you need two wings to fly otherwise you are going to fly in circles." they just don;t get it though. they tell me either you are on one side or on the other, you can;t be bi-partisan. you have to choose and whoever you oppose, well its death to them. My mind starts interpreting; raise their taxes! kill their grandparents in the retirement homes! we don;t have room in this world for people who aren't moving or making a name for themselves. After all is said and done, all is said and done and I sit there with my usual relaxed complexion that hides and endless arsenal of everything.

Noone believes that words could come out of such a monotone voice. I can tell what they are thinking, he doesn't feel anything. He doesn't care. If he felt anything he would choose sides. If he cared he would fight for a cause. but they don't seem to see the bigger picture. I am powerless in a world of thieves. Money is valueless. It's just the same for the morals and ethics that have bee carved in stone for centuries. They've always been good with words. Enough paper tablets to fill monestaries, but who could worship words like these? There's nothing to hold onto in words. In observations found from sitting back and taking it all in, even. There's something that happens in profound moments of stillness. Everything refreshes. Everything becomes one. You can't even decipher the difference between anything anymore. What good has it done anyways? A wise man once said to me that after the game of chess is over it doesn't matter who has won or who has lost, the pieces go back into the same box.

{THE DEATH OF A DEATH SALESMAN}

2008-09-18T15:04:00.000-07:00

At the corner of desolation and despair is a man sitting down on the down-trodden sidewalk. The dust of snow blows off the tops of our skeleton city. Eastern Standard Time encompassing walking briefcases, manifold mandibles collapsing on each other with a cigarette burning in between. Thoughts swimming though membraned channels. Cancerous carcinogens exhaled. Nicotine stained esophagus. Crushed like elevators falling from the top floor to musky basement deathbeds. The sun is recycling itself. Inside these eyes are perceptions. The world and events unfold all around me. The colors contrast and there is surreal light.

Meanwhile...

Two lovers embrace as if it is the last time. Bodies entwined. Fingers running through hair like bodies in wax museums. Chemicals rush like mercury in thermometers. The wind blows and a leaf of the fall still holds on for dear life. It is as if this has happened over and over and over again.

Meanwhile in another place...

Hand and hand the social lepers march to and fro on this lonely isle. Their hands resemble chains. Their fashions are chastity belts. To be apart of the group is the disease, although the disease is the key. Fire escapes on the sides of buildings exist in case someone needs to escape. Fires will burn bright and start everything a new. A rose sits in a vase, so slender and beautiful. Yet abrasive and sharp. They don't last so long these days. They are easy to replace with a new one. Like torrid love affairs that burn bright and fade out so quickly with nothing but soft char. There is history amongst us everywhere. Each moment there is life as well as death. You can feel this all around you. So many lives have been lived in so many ways. With the same social order of the species. The kings still try and live on top of the world but only with a birds eye view of these lives. To be the fire of life is to immerse yourself in the gasoline and light the match.

{WHAT"S GOTTEN INTO YOU TONIGHT?}

2008-09-04T19:38:00.000-07:00

It starts off something like a dream. A sunrise. The lights reflection off of the glass in the windows. The cracks in the pavement moving in miniscule dimensions. The city sleeps but it is always moving. Whether it's the cars, trains, buses, airplanes or people. Everything is in it's grasp. For some that is the greatest despair. For other's they just simply hold on waiting for the right moment to let go and return back to a place once called home.

They say home is where the heart is. So wherever you go is home. Until they send you a bill. A tax for the treason. The treasurer's debt keeps piling high and our starving eye's just can't seem to get enough. I need a lookout tower so I can see above the pile, but our necks are too short and our sticks keeps poking our eyes out. Then it all settles in; doubt. The very destroyer of the dream within reality. The whole reason why I can never get past 5 pages of this shit. Why is it all I see behind these blue eyes of mine is broken faces, tragic places? The past keeps talking to me. I am listening but its response is so deeply hurting. Its very subtle. Only the naked eye and the open heart can see it.

{MEMORIES}

2008-09-03T17:46:00.000-07:00

A man walks down a very long hallway. There are many doors inside this hallway. We get the feeling that behind each door are small vignettes of a life that once existed. They are all playing themselves out, over and over again. The same exact way that they all happened. We know that there is nothing that we can do to change any of these moments behind each of these doors. We start to walk through each one to see exactly what is going on behind each door and we truly find out what its like to re-live it all over again. A thought comes to me about what it is like to push the re-wind button in this life. Even when I do this I get the feeling that there is no more of a point in doing this than anything else. My rational and logistical perspective also tells me that I am missing out on key component moments while searching in and through all of these rooms. We walk on through anyways because the next thought tells me that if it doesn't matter then it doesn't even matter that we walk through them all over again and experience them in their fullest glory. After all this walking and thinking we walk to the end of the hallways. There is a door no different from any of the other ones. It has no markings of a number or a label that would tell me anything of my exact location but we know we are here. We open the door and slowly walk in. Up against the wall is a bed with many large blankets that are fluffy. There are many pillows as well. There are two giant long windows up against each side of the room. They have long luminous curtains slowly breathing with the room. The move back and fourth in a swaying way. I suddenly get tired and I lay down and fall asleep in this giant bed. I start to dream. I have the same dream all over again. Everything is completely in its place as it was the last time we were here. We go into the same moment. We see the curtains and the room and the bed. We lay down and fall asleep. We start a new dream in the same room, only this time we are looking out. We look out to the end of the hallway. There is a black cat slowly walking down the hall toward us. It moved faster and fast. It jumps onto us in the bed. I wake from the dream in the same room. I look around and notice everything is in its place. Then I wake again from the dream. Same room. Same look around. Same everything. I finally wake from my own dream. In my own room and everything is not in its place. Everything is a giant mess and that's fine.

{RUNNING FROM ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AT ALL}

2007-11-27T08:12:00.000-08:00

We were running to the train as fast as possible. Crossing in front of traffic this way and that. Literally almost knocking people over on their asses, but we made it. Right through the doors at the last second. The train creaked, shook and then kept on moving. They stop for no man or woman it seems, on occasions. We sat down on the nice, warm, heated seats. Tore off our scarves and hats. To make matter worse the spliff we had smoked earlier had really done us in. Time. Slowed. Down. A l m o s t t o t h e p o i n t. Of. CONFUSION. Then it sped up fast again, so fast that all of the seconds that were slowed down turned into 2 seconds faster than the first and we found our self caught up again with time.

A Mexican guy started staring at me in the most peculiar way. It made me a bit self conscious so I stared back to fight off the urge to look away in defeat. He stared further into the depths of my eyes. So I reciprocated on the matter. He looked away right out the window, it was too much. It seemed to bother him more than it originally bothered me, but I figure hell, if your going to look someone in the eyes go as far and deep with it as you can. Smash the windows to the soul. Crash.

Moments later a lady slammed the rear door of the train and started screaming obscenities and following up with some sort of charity case. She got right into peoples faces. A little too close for comfort. Now I know everyone has to eat and everyone needs to live a good life but after you get done telling everyone where to fuck off and then you get right in their faces and scream for money and no one gives it to you the best thing to do might be to leave in peace but it all ends how it begins, so it goes. The moment on her way out, she turns round and says, "you can all fuck off for all I care, someone will help me in the next car you bunch of ungrateful fuckers." I couldn't tell you how many times I have seen this scene play over and over again, on the same train, with the same woman and the same reactions. You can still find her trudging through the JMZ screaming at herself.

Questions arose, Does anything really change? Is it the same story over and over again but with different characters? I am sometimes led to believe so. This life is somewhat of a purgatory at times. Is this the beginning and end of hell? We got off the train wondering just what all that was about. Its always full of some funny sort of absurdity in this big city town.

{INFINITE POSSIBILITIES WITH WORDS ATTACHED}

2007-11-27T08:04:00.000-08:00

I see myself walking down the street into infinite possibilities.
Theres dog shit on the sidewalk but i step right over it just in time to find someone trying to rob me with a fake gun, I shrug my shoulders and wonder what the hell that guy was trying to do.
I get on the train and take it to the 4th stop where there are people walking past me with eyes falling off their foreheads and broken legs taking over an old mans rickety step and swagger.
I seek nothing but the good and true hearted and maybe occasionally a good sandwich from the local deli guy. I also share a slice of humble pie with a good friend of mine.
I don't bother defeating the local swine in the hipster hell, I just walk on by like they don't notice me which is one of the best things ever because I don't have to dress my words up or make my phrases sound like a yodeler on the tops of the mountains because we are all the mountains and all the valleys and sometimes rocks just collide in landslides but they aren't victories that are fair. Most people live through other peoples eyes, not taking any chances, not trying to push things in a direction that is unnatural. It sucks when you see everything from everyone else's perspectives other than your own. If you are reading this and aren't doing anything interesting with your life, then maybe you should rethink and reconsider your purpose. Living through other peoples ideals, expectations and standards is a waste of the life you have. You have this one life and this one life only. Don't be afraid of your life. The big unknown.

{ENDLESSLY OBSERVANT}

2007-11-27T07:47:00.000-08:00

Mulberry Street. November 19th, 2006. A decent night it was aside from the fast life around me.
Everything was at half speed, half mast. The people were going so fast,
They walked right through me. Was my timing off?
Was I existing at the right speed? I dont know. The moon winced.
There were no secrets. The clouds moved on.
A man on the sidewalk constructed a sort of mat out of old cardboard boxes and began screaming at you when you walked by and if you got close enough. He would grab your legs and tear them off piece by piece but an eternity would pass before you even realized what was going on.

At another dimly lit corner the NYPD's messenger boys were walking through the streets racially profiling everyone and everything they could. One officer began yelling at an Asian man. The conversation was something like, Look at you, you fucking creep.
Go back to China or wherever the fuck you came from. The man said nothing back. He knew the next punch line but he knew enough not to say it because its all downhill from there when you are the one without the gun. He trudged on. Who was the one with the power? Some experts would agree the man who can make the most damage would be the man in control, but I would have to disagree.
The man who said nothing, he won. Victory was in search of destruction. I called for a cab and said, get me out of this place.

{HOME}

2007-11-27T07:24:00.000-08:00

Standing in the middle of the street and all is silent. Its 5am or maybe something that resembles the time. Where did it go? Where did all the people of our lives go? It's almost as if they all disappeared completely and I am left here standing lost in my own self involved world and I see my own Alice through the looking glass reflection on the other side, curiously staring back. What's in a reflection besides the staring of the same sets of eyes and the same crooked smile? I guess it's really nothing but someone just staring back at you while you stare back. It's a big contest where both of the competitors are you. So who wins? Who's the one that looks away and breaks the contact? It's a case of what nourishes me, also destroys me…

This was me trying to write it all down. With as much loathing and curiosity to power a huge fucking rocket ship that could take the rest of us away from this god awful place. That place didn't exist, though. That place was the gates of hell made to look like the huge castle in the sky and the unicorns jumping over the rainbow. The type of shit you see in movies and you see it morph once they get past the pleasantries. The gate bars melt at high burning degrees and the flames just engulfs everything around you. The unicorns turn into some weird looking goblins that are in no mood to chase you through the maze of your life. They want to taste and drain you of the very thing everyone was always after. Your soul. They would do anything in their power to take it from you. Hell even when you were alive, it was quite the kicking and screaming match just to walk down the street and not have some asshole try and tell you your worth.

What is love and what is life? Is it the constant question with the constant answer? The stinging of the wounds after you fall off your bicycle and scrape your knee on the ground. Is it our friends who help us up and our beloved mothers who bandage up the wound and tell us to never give up just because we fell once. Is it the sharing of the moons full capacity or an endless conversation that could span on for lifetimes and even after we die, someone else would take our place because of the cancers of inspiration and motivation. I think maybe that's just what some of it is. In its most vulnerable and simplistic forms.

This is my homage of friendship. A few words shared for the ones of the road on the adventure of one lifetime. A lifetime that should not be taken for granted. A lifetime that you and I share. Remember also, that same moon we all look at, those same stars and buildings. Other people see them too, others write about them. That's the only way I was ever able to find these words, because whether I knew it or not. It was implanted in me by old souls and new.

{IN CIRCLES, IN CIRCLES, IN CIRCLES}

2007-11-21T10:39:00.000-08:00

picture yourself
running around in circles.
picture the streets
filled with shit
everything is black and white.
all these people are having a great time.
while other people are trying to run around
and not get blasted by giant sprays from machine guns.
there's all these fortune tellers
and all these politicians.
little tiny shops and offices with hand guns.
you go through the door and you want to see what's going on.
there's all these different shops
because this used to be a place you could go and buy things.
go shopping for grocieries but instead you open the door
and some big fat politician with a cigar pulls out
a gun ready to blow your brains out.
you run down the street and there's all these floats
everywhere in the street.
celebrating that finally the world is over or something.
or some new race is taking over.
everyone on the float is dressed in drag.
everyone is yelling and screaming
and pulling people off of the floats who aren't supposed to be on them.
endless amounts of vodka and everyone is wasted.
they just keep feeding it to the people
and they just keep taking it down.
someone grabs someone else by their hair.
others point machine guns and blow their brains out
and throw them on the ground like its no big deal,
like its not real, like its not happening.
other people are laughing.
I am running in circles in this neighborhood
that seems to never end.
there's no outer boundaries and I am with someone else.
I don't know who it is, then they get killed
and I am running scared again.
this guy in the distance keeps looking at me, he's aiming for me.
and I am running but my feet don't feel like they are going anywhere.
all of a sudden I feel these things open up my head.
I fall down to the icy ground, then I know what its like to be dead.
I didn't enjoy a moment of it.
I thought too much about the pain.
Realized there was nothing more to gain.
Got trapped in a maze, couldn't get out.
Stopped thinking of a way out,
and it just opened.
looked back and realized it just showed me how
destructive human beings can be.
they have no idea of what its like to live.
they just know what its like to make people die.
then there was silence on the tape and that endless loop stopped.
we no longer thought about death, no longer thought about life.
no longer thought about anything anymore, it was all a thought of itself.
it was only a daydream. a dream that we wake up from.
a dream that I will never dream again.

{AND WE'LL BUILD}

2007-11-21T09:08:00.000-08:00

very large electrical towers that look like women
with their spring dresses on and we'll wire them together
and make sure they are all slaves together.
sex slaves to each other.
you can see the sexuality of high tension wires
and how they are all connected to each other,
spanning on for miles.
chained.
like they are never going to get away from each other
because they are stuck in the ground
and there's no hope for any other life then this.
they have it all re-wired in their brains,
somewhere in there.
and that's something that is important
that we need to remember.
all you have to do is cut the wires.
when the electricity stops,
everyone is fucked.
then you finally get a glimpse of what it's like to be yourself,
in a world that's telling you not to be yourself.
you should be someone else they say.
someone else who's not perfect, wait.
don't be anyone else but the perfect person who
is finally going to make it in this place
and that's the problem right there.
we keep pissing and shitting in our drinking water
and we pretend that its not really happening.
am i drinking this or is this pretend?
I am just waiting for all the dams to break
and the water rushes in.

then we'll build an army
pump oil from the ground.
build all these funny contraptions
completely mar the earth like full body tattoos.
and we'll build hot steamy things,
make shit look like it's blowing up.
make it feel like there is some sort of point to all this.

we'll build very large ovens
with very large flames coming out of them.
put people in there.
then blow up atom bombs on places we'll
never visit ever again anyways.
what does it matter?
it's not our radiation.
it's not our skin falling off.
it's someone else's and they don't really feel it.
they are just non-americans.
they are just people not affiliated with us.
we are the only people that exist in this country.
no one exists anywhere else.
now there's a fucked up thing to think about.
but the clouds keep on going.
keeps passing off, going everywhere
and it never ends.

in the future
you will see people sunbathing in radiation.
people driving with their doors wide open,
flying down the beach.
getting rays of radiation
and sun tanning at the same time.
people will sing about it in the background,
all right, everything is great!
here's life.

they'll take pictures.
wow, the new progression for humankind.
we finally made it.
we finally did something that was so important.
we'll look at buildings mirrors
and reflections and just see the same thing, just a mirror image.
but we'll pay more attention to the image
rather than the actuality looking at it,
because supposedly that's more interesting.
it's more interesting to capture things and not really be there.
its like an answering machine picking up every single time you are calling someone
and pretending you already had the conversation every single time.
"remember when we talked about that?"
oh, wait that was your answering machine.
oh yeah.
beep.

once you lose yourself, then who are you?
your somebody else.

{AAHHH, GET ME OFF OF THIS ROLLER-COASTER}

2007-11-21T09:02:00.000-08:00

Did you say that when you were little?

We're flying.
Wow, look, the ocean really does turn black.
That's what they say happens in the future, so they say.

and mountains reflect.

We're getting a glimpse of the future in this movie.

Is there someone standing on that cliff?

I don't now but this movie is pretty good.
I'd have to say it's very life like qualities get me to think about things
which is very important.
-----
and here you see, this is the destruction of mankind.
this is when everything changes.
this is when everything starts to get destroyed
and man moves in.

then the 6 train comes along.

yeah the old version, not the new one.
it comes flying in, you can tell by the theme music.
if you listen enough you can hear it.
then all of a sudden a swarm of killer bees
come flying around and cover the 6 train completely.
but they came from out of nowhere.
then the printing presses start to press the newspaper tomorrow,
for todays tragedy.
-----
the 6 train will now be re-directed
due to killer bees,
everyone off the train.

{AND THEN WE FOUND OURSELVES HIGH IN THE CLOUDS}

2007-11-21T08:56:00.000-08:00

High above everything. With the sun as our guide. We followed the wind. Everything turned black but it looked like the ocean. We were two miles up if you had to give it a description. Floating somewhere near the pacific. Right above it all. It was the high time of our lives. A pinnacle moment when we finally realized that we are alive. Then these assholes started playing trumpets. I don't know how the hell they got up here, but they just started doing it and it never went away. Then there was waterfalls. What do you think of waterfalls?

Three feet deep and green.
I would fall with them.

I wouldn't go chasing them though.

hehe.

I heard a song that said that once.
I bet they were trying to make a point, something important, you know?

If the sun can follow waterfalls than I can too.

I guess that's why I am the sun and you are the moon.

It's the other way around apollo.

oh, oops.
I don't want to chase them anyways.