Monday, October 18, 2021

Starstruck Distracted


 Quiet night...
Sunday...
Only day off...
Nothing religious, 
Just circumstance...
Life is
Okay...
There are cool moments...
Business is being taken care of...
Sleep is irregular,
But adequate...
My wheels roll over the streets
Searching for memories
In an unfamiliar place...
Distant memories
Of when everything was new...
I look for the things that stand out...
The places that don't fit,
And yet still co-exist...
Things that feel somehow familiar due to the visual impact,
And the accompanying emotional response that they elicit...
Things that remind me of something else...
I do this alone...
Relationship entanglements 
Have proven to be Terrible distractions 
From me being able to live my life as an individual...
As if you should stop being yourself when you're with someone...
But I suppose we often do just that...
Lose ourselves...
Get thrown off track from trying to find ourselves
Because our heart or our flesh
Got starstruck distracted...

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Dream Transcribed (Recovered from November 19, 2017)

 Dream from 2004 Transcribed (Inner Space Cavern?)
[Written in Journal #66 entitled "Trans-Dimensional Shift" in Lubbock, TX, sometime around February of 2004.]


The house looks like it’s in the wilderness.
Weathered wood, outside; inside is fairly small.
My wife, at the time, and I live there.
There is a room in it that we rarely go in/
never go in.
I go in and find a fish tank
full of various frogs.
I ask to show her.
She seems very distracted.
*
I finally get her into the room.
There are more fish tanks, but the room hasn’t changed.
I remember something long forgotten.
As a child, I had put frog eggs (jelly soft masses)
from various ponds into the tanks
to see if they would hatch.
Lots and lots of frogs are everywhere.
Some connection to a college kid I lived with
who was literally trying to take over the world with
Artificial Intelligence that was supposed to 
learn how the human brain works
and then enlighten everyone in the world, physically,
via hacked nanotechnology.
The filters in the tanks were clogged with algae
and dead frogs…
I feel like I can unclog them…
There are live frogs of all kinds and colors in tanks
and all over the room, loose.
I climb up into the rafters to turn on more lights
and find more and more frogs…
Tanks contain turtles and crayfish that
I had collected and forgotten…
They, the ones in tanks, even though the filters
were clogged, have somehow formed perfect balance
(like mini biospheres) and have survived untended for years
(one acts like actual tide pools with active tides)...
I think they need more water and tending
even though they likely do not…
*
Next time I go into the room alone,
and there are other animals there
in different tanks and cages…
There is more light in the room…
Guinea pig-like rodents. Three bear cubs…
I touch one’s nose carefully (big teeth)...
Saltwater fish opposite frog tanks…
 All these fish have ich all over their heads,
no eyes or mouths…
I remember fish like these used to be in nightmares,
but now I see they are just sick, quarantined fish…
There is an orangutan in the room…
Also, a man, can’t remember what he says,
but he offers to show me some more things…
There is a younger man in the room who says nothing
(he is one of the “things” I am shown)...
*
I go to my [now ex-]wife.
Still acting somewhat indifferent
and bring her into the room…
The room is now a corridor. No animals.
[Later turns out to be underground passage that leads
beneath and away from the small wooden shack]...
Looks like a gift shop with a band/instrument motif…
Man leads us through…
Begins to look like Christmas shop…
Crosses and Christian decorations, 
what look like Christmas ornaments…
There are small people dressed like dwarves and elves…
The man says something about the quiet young man…
Says he made him (cloned him?) and taught him
everything that he knows through genetic engineering 
and guided L.S.D. experimentation…
We are led to a counter…
There are police at the counter…
[I feel like a recent marijuana possession arrest at the time 
of this dream was a past event at this point]...
A policeman asks me questions…
Says because I am 18, I got off much easier…
Asks if I’m really 18,
I look at the [now ex-]wife and her eyes somehow tell me
to be quiet, not let on that I am much older than 18…
Before I can answer, more people come in
[like a rush at the gift shop I now work at],
A little confusion ensues…
The cop offers me a blunt…
Says it’s herbal…
For clearing up congestion…
Implies that it is not marijuana (wink, wink)...
Mentions something about three people
who make higher judgments about my case
(a friend of the [now ex-]wife is one of those people)...
Before they let us go on
I am given a set of dominoes with runes carved into one side
[like a set that I had made], boxed set…
All that same Christmas/Christian motif and smells in this scene…
*
Just before I am given the runes/dominoes, 
I notice everyone in the cop/counter area is very tall,
over ten feet tall…
When we leave, we pass people who are
dressed like elves and dwarves again…
I joke and say, “Finally! People who are more my size…”
(I am only a few inches taller than most of these people)...
*
Outside of this house(?) (ours?), but it is in a public area
[like a parking lot]…
Bigger than the wooden shack, much nicer…
Still seems like Christmas there, but summer-like outside…
(Very mild winter?)
Three blond girls are in the [now ex-]wife’s car…
One in the driver’s seat is trying to steal the car…
She can’t figure out how to start it…
They don’t see me…
I walk up and put my hand on the back of her neck,
gently, and say,
“You need to find a car with the keys in it.
People forget their keys in their car all the time.
It’s much easier to get away with.”
I walk in front of the car and
lean on the hood with my elbows
and repeat what I first said…
And then I calmly say,
“Now get out. Come on.”
Then the [now ex-]wife gets in the driver’s seat.
A young girl is in the passenger seat,
and the [now ex-]wife drives off with her…
The girl with her is not blond like the original three…
*
I go back into the larger house,
grab my modified Spanish sword,
and feel like I have to make sure that no one is in the house…
Still Christmas/Christian icon motif…
There is a line of various glass cases leading up
to the front door (glass door{s})...
The first glass case has an 8 or 9 year old African American boy in it…
The rest of the glass cases are empty…
Looks like he is trying to hide, but the case is glass…
I ask him to get out of the case…
I have the sword, and he is scared…
But I’m not trying to hurt him…
Sword is in my right hand;
I wave him on with my left hand…
Cops are at the front door, now…
They are telling me to put down the weapon…
I ignore them, at first, and, smiling,
I keep waving the child on…
Cops have their guns drawn…
I finally throw down the sword and raise my arms…
Cops come in and ask what I’m doing in this house…
I say something about a secret passage 
from my wooden house in the woods
to this one (from the Frog Room)...
The cops who were initially angry and confrontational
now seem very confused and genuinely concerned
once I mention the passageway...
x
x
x

Elegant and Ugly (Recovered from December 31, 2017)


Winter solstice…
Not my favorite time of year…
I’d rather hibernate
like a bear
than slog through
the holidays…
A yearly reminder
that I’m too broke
to do much of anything
for anybody…
Somewhat colder weather
no matter what the North American latitude…
I would rather sweat a little
than freeze a little…
Even though
I was born and raised 
in New England
through many a hard winter,
I’d still rather not
do cold…
I enjoy less clothing
rather than multiple layers
building
like a snake with multiple
old unshed skins…
Christmas and New Year’s,
Hanukkah and Kwanzaa…
Yep,
I could sleep through all of that…
Wake me when it’s over…
Last time I went to the VA
my heart rate was 64 beats a minute…
Usually it’s in the high nineties,
often over 100 bpm…
Little bit of white coat syndrome, maybe…
But the heart rate is slowing down…
Hibernation will do that…
Heartbeat so slow
you might end up
mistaken for dead…
Relax…
Regroup…
Try to shed any clinging negativity…
I won’t be making any New Year’s resolutions…
Just going to keep on doing…
Focusing forward…
One step at a time…
One day at a time…
(Try to keep your mind
off of any thirteen-step program
slogans or references…)
There is simply work to be done…
A lot of it, actually...
Instinctual nesting behavior…
Swimming upstream for miles
to spawn…
Piling rocks in the sand
in pleasing patterns
and Fibonacci sequences…
Shiny stones
and fragments of metal and mirrors
held together 
with mud and saliva…
Larvae in their cells
growing through the winter
pale and half-formed…
Conscious or unconscious?
Asleep and/or dreaming?
Awake and aware
of every single change
on the journey
from grub
to wasp?
Is a paralyzed tarantula
aware of each small bite
that the larva are taking
out of its internal organs
expertly leaving only the systems
that keep their food
alive?
Elegant and ugly 
all at the same time…
And nature often is
just that…
Life can be cruel
one moment,
and very kind the next…
It can lead you to believe
there is a pattern…
Kharma and such…
Even the ugly things,
over time,
have informed who you
decide to be…
Everything creates more opportunities
for even more choices…
The “Holidays”
always left me a little flat
with their shorter days
and long cold nights…
Like sleeping in a root cellar…
Icy tendrils
creeping under door sills…
Icy fingers spreading 
on the windows,
starburst on glass…
 
x
x

Fantasy/Sci-Fi Romance (Recovered from November 20, 2017)


Sometimes it feels like
I never woke up from that coma…
It has been a journey of awakening,
most certainly…
A necessary experience…
But the present,
three years later,
seems like a dream…
A lucid dream…
I am fully conscious,
aware of myself,
and aware of my surroundings…
I feel more focused than I ever have…
And I don’t want to wake up
from this dream,
if a dream it is…
Or the time line split
as one version of me died
in the ICU…
Bloated blue gray green…
While another became
the time line I am currently aware of....
Here, now,
and more content than
I could have ever imagined…
Almost too good to be true…
Like at the end of Repo Men,
where the anti-hero
is hooked up to life support
with a programmed virtual reality
playing into his mind
the most beautiful ending
to his story…
A place where everything comes together…
Every little thing seems to fit…
The stars all align…
But it’s just virtual reality…
I don’t want to wake up 
if this is a dream…
I feel awake enough
to question all of my long standing beliefs
about who I am, and who I was,
and why I think that I am here…
The stars all align…
Every other moment is something
dripping with meaning…
Synchronicities
piling up
faster than we can
sweep them up…
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind…
Memories implanted…
Memories erased…
I don’t want to forget anything…
Not the good or the bad 
about the last three years…
About the last 15 years...
About the last 48 years…
I wish I could remember 
all of the joy
and all of the pain…
Every experience
that has taught me
or shaped me
or scarred me
or healed me…
That is knowledge
that can inform potential wisdom…
It is what finally got me
to this particular moment in time
where certain moments
are sweet like ambrosia… 
Just like the Nectar of the Gods…
Connections that feel like
they go far deeper and far higher
than the mere physical
or the psychological…
Something like a science fiction love story…
Currently existing science
can not yet measure
the kind of energy
that is in the air
right at this very moment…
Science cannot yet explain
the present moment
sending a noticeable pulse
backwards into the time line…
Communicating with a past self…
Guiding them to this particular moment…
Time line paradox?
Guiding the repeated branching of time lines
like a botanist or a landscaper…
The binding of a Bonsai tree…
The pruning of a Crepe Myrtle...
Putting tar over the broken branches
to keep the sap, 
the lifeblood,
from running out…
Planning where each new branch will grow…
And where they will eventually grow to…
Are there echoes?
I can hear them...
And I can feel them…
But I still sometimes feel 
like I have to look at my hands
like you should do
if you find yourself in a lucid dream…
Be awake and aware within the dream…
But also like suspecting 
that you are just on the holodeck
on a starship…
Is this truly real?
When so many things seem to be so perfect…
Like the seams between the stone blocks
of the Great Pyramids…
I had driven right over the now
way back in 2003
after spending a few hours
in St. David’s hospital
with an ever so slightly fractured nose
when I was in a car
pretty much T-boned by a drunk driver
who had jumped a median…
I remember every moment of the crash,
the impact, the warm blood down my chest,
but I didn’t remember the name of that hospital
until I woke up from that coma
and was told that I had been there before…
Did it spark a future memory?
Which came first?
Is it always there
just waiting to unfold?
The story has always existed, in full,
even though it has not yet all been told?
Every fairytale has a challenge…
Even a long series of obstacles
to navigate
before the happily ever after…
But the protagonists can feel it…
They feel the shared purpose and passion
that makes it possible
to complete the journey…
Despite any obstacles…
Even if the story never ends...

x
x

Samurai Ginger Cat (Recovered from November 15, 2017)


The best thing to come out
of the past 15 years
is my cat, Leo...
A lanky, fat ginger cat
who sounds like a baby crying
when he yowls for food,
which is all the time...
Very vocal...
And the best thing to happen in my life
is the woman I am now with...
But I wouldn't have been here,
in this place where we met,
if it were not for the past 15 years...
If I had not suffered through
the pain and the co-dependency,
the drama and the isolation,
I would not have learned 
how to be a better man,
the man that she wants,
the man that she needs,
the way I want and need her...
Steel blades are fairly soft metal
until they are heated to red hot
in the forge
and quenched in oil
repeatedly...
It changes the structure of the crystalline nature
hidden beneath the surface...
It aligns what was once soft,
unable to keep an edge,
into something that can be honed
to razor sharpness...
The blade will no longer fold
in on itself...
And as with any katana,
the edge of the blade is tempered in this way,
but the back is allowed to be
a softer metal
so that the blade will not shatter...
The back of the curved sword
is the blade breaker,
shattering the blade of the adversary...
The edge is for cutting softer things
like bone and flesh...
And I have been tempered by the fire...
I have become better...
But a blade is just a blade,
able to be wielded by the good and the bad, alike...
But my soul has been tempered also
so that it knows the good from the bad...
And a samurai is useless
without a reason to be,
without someone to protect and serve...
I have found an honorable and humble master...
Someone I can protect
while they also protect me...
And I have my teacher by my side,
Leo, more than just a ginger cat,
he is a Buddha
and he is a warrior
ready to defend those he cares about...
It may sound silly,
but I have seen him roar in like a tiger
when anyone yelps in pain
ready to take on adversaries ten times his size
even though, at any other time,
he just wants belly rubs and snacks
like Hotei, Old Sack, the fat, laughing buddha...
The philosophy of this deity is contentment
and the knowledge that we are all one...
One love... 
One goal...
He "comes in billions of incarnations...
Often he is shown to people at the time;
other times they do not recognize him."
He teaches me to see the God in everyone
and everything,
Every person, every animal, birds, bees, and bugs...
And just like in the folklore,
rubbing his belly brings contentment...
Wealth, good luck, and prosperity...
With him I learn to protect and serve my charge...
And all of the people that I love,
here now and to come...
x

Situational Insomnia (Recovered from November 8, 2017)


Walking out to the mailbox around midnight
to send 15 years of memories
and thousands of pictures of cats
on a zip drive to a former life...
Full bright moon glaring down
on a somewhat warm evening...
Just around the corner,
not five hundred feet away,
from the sound of it,
a pack of coyotes
begin barking, yipping, and howling...
I remember that sound from nights in the country
back home in Connecticut...
Fresh kill, or mating season, 
some kind of celebration of their wildness
in the darkness
and it always sounded like somewhat frightful cacophony...
Like a pack of werewolves
howling at the moon
and bearing down
on fresh meat, warm flesh...
Bones cracking between their teeth...
Devouring their prey before it's even finished dying...
Back then,
I always heard them from behind a roaring fire,
or through the window,
walls safely insulating me
from the mob...
This night, 
I hear them
with no protection before or around me...
They are just out of my line of sight,
but I know they are
close enough to smell my scent...
Spices and pheromones...
Musk and fenugreek...
And my response,
now,
in this moment,
is a smile...
I just listen to their song
and place the envelope in the slot...
I slowly walk back to the house...
I feel no imminent danger...
I almost feel like one of them...
I am exposed...
Pajama bottom shorts and an open vest...
Sandals on my feet...
Unarmed and vulnerable...
Unafraid in the moonlit darkness...
They are so close,
but still hidden by the shadows of the trees...
Any closer
and I would be able to smell their scent...
They are celebrating their freedom...
I close my eyes and I listen...
Soon, I will be able to celebrate my own...
Soon, I will be able to sing with them...
Run with them, if only metaphorically...
A wild animal held in a steel kennel for years,
but not broken by the experience...
I can be free...
I can choose my destiny openly,
instead of skulking in the shadows 
waiting...
I can openly follow her scent...
My true mate,
not the human who tried to tame me,
domesticate me...
But a wild thing like myself...
She's been waiting for ages
for me to arrive
even though she didn't yet know my name...
But I could smell her scent in the wind
drawing me to this place...
I know now that it was her...
And I respond to her call...
My emotions in a frenzy for her
like the coyotes' song
not 500 feet away...
400 feet...
300 feet...
When my foot touched the first step of the porch,
silence...
I perched on the railing 
looking over the moonlit yard
and had a cigarette...
Still silence...
Nothing moving under the shadows...
They can move like ghosts when so inclined...
But I could still feel them in the darkness of the tree line...










Years of Armadillo Roadkill (Recovered from January 28, 2018)


Thirty-some years ago
when I was about 16
I spent a summer in Florida
working at my brothers moving company…
Driving down the highway
I recall seeing dozens,
if not hundreds,
of armadillos digging in the dirt
and grass
on the sides of the road…
Never had time to stop…
So, even then,
I never saw one up close...
But I was always fascinated
by the primitive look
of these creatures…
Always wanted to observe one up close…
See how the plates fit together…
Watch how the joints and seams
worked together…
How they moved...
***
Years later
I found myself in Texas…
Long-term living there…
Kinda sorta chasing tail…
Not that I’m a big Woody Allen fan,
or anything,
but he was kinda sorta right
about the three certainties of life:
death, sex, and taxes…
Not necessarily in that order
and often involving only
somewhat related topics
compared to the original 
subjects of the premise…
And,
since I got to this place,
before I digress any further
from my originally intended topic,
I’ve only seen dead armadillos…
Hadn’t seen a live one
since I moved to the state
nearly 17 years ago…
Just the random cracked shell
on a bloated dead body
that had been run over…
Often nearly unrecognizable
at first glance
as anything remotely
armadillo…
Their armor does not protect them
from creatures like us…
And we can kill without even a single thought…
***
Very recently, I saw my first live armadillo up close…
Very alive…
And somewhat to very preoccupied with the business at hand
that it was tending to…
At first the sound seemed to be coming from the trees…
Loud rustlings of branches
like heavy taloned feet
were moving from branch to branch
urgently, almost frantically,
but still heavy…
It was evening and very dark
so I got a flashlight 
to see what was making all of this noise…
I expected the noise to stop as I got closer to the trees,
but it did not pause for even a moment…
That’s when I realized 
the sound was coming from ground level…
Just about ten feet ahead of me
in the sticks and leaf litter 
between the cedars…
A full grown armadillo
busily rustling through
the sticks and the leaves
looking for food…
Didn’t even pause for a second 
when in my flashlight beam…
No deer in headlights response at all…
I walked right up to it
and squatted down near it
to get a closer look…
It seemed completely oblivious
to my presence…
Just kept noisily rooting around 
in the sticks and leaves…
I reached out to tap its shell
with my index finger…
About two inches up the backplate
from the base of the tail…
Tap, tap, tap…
Finger nail to armor…
It paused what it was doing for a moment and
turned its head to look at me
as if to silently ask, “Ummm…  What...”
The kind of “what” that doesn’t necessarily ask a question…
Doesn’t always need the actual question mark...
Kinda metaphorical or rhetorical…
A smidgeon curt…
More than a fleeting hint of impatience…
Maybe somewhat of a 
“Oh, what the fuck do you want?”
feel to the expression…
Somewhat slightly amused by the inconvenience,
the poetic injustice,
of the moment...
But otherwise distracted and relatively emotionless
(too focused on its own problems laying beneath the leaves,
where its mind is, and its attention)...
And then it went right back to 
rooting around in the sticks and leaves…
This time with a slow meander away from me
as it snuffled through…
No big rush to “escape”
as it, apparently, didn’t feel at all
in danger…
Maybe it felt a tad inconvenienced,
but it definitely was not 
fearing for its life…
Focused or distracted…
Sometime it’s hard to tell the difference…
The observable behaviors are often the same...
***
I saw that look on my ex-wife’s face…
I was at a Walgreens getting lemonade
(great for dissolving kidney stones, BTW)...
The person in front of me in line
is having trouble understanding
how the credit card reader works…
It. is. taking. forever…
So I glance across the aisle at some “specials”,
then pivot back to my place in line
to see her in line
two places behind me…
Split second eye contact
as I spin back to facing the cashier
and, I’ll be damned,
she had the same expression on her face
as that armadillo…
Focused or distracted…
Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference…
The observable behaviors are often the same…
Of course,
the customer in front of me
cancelled her own transaction
multiples of times
at this point 
(which had slowed even more to a crawl
due to the heat on the back of my head
from an imagined glare…)
Finally,
after what seemed a near eternity,
the person in front of me actually
successfully navigates
the card reader…
Cashier asks me, 
“How’s your day going?”
x
x

Stranded (Recovered from June 29, 2018)


Stranded…
Near to frustration tears…
Side of the road…
110 degree heat index…
Just got out of the shop…
Allegedly fixed…
Tension building…
Being on the verge of a 
New life
Makes things like this,
Little setbacks,
All the more needling…
Poignant…
Acute…
Exhausting…
After the fact,
There is limbo…
Vague burdensome feeling
Like I don’t want to lean too much
On the kindness of others…
That can cause fatigue…
So there is now time to think…
Resisting the urge to brood…
Hope is on the horizon…
That’s also the title of an album
I once remastered
For a friend of mine…
Years pass quickly
In between times…
Life can make you lose touch…
The nuts and bolts of it…
What you have to do
Versus 
What you want to do…
And what does thinking do?
Well,
Just now,
Right this very instant,
I remembered that this night
One year ago
I was in a motel
Paid for by two friends
After having spent the night
Sleeping in the woods…
Pigs and zebras and deer
And a cow I helped nurse,
My bunk mates…
Got myself kicked out of Hell
Because I unfortunately
Assume that people generally
Say what they mean
And
Mean what they say…
Intellectually, I know better,
But,
As logical and rational
As I try to be,
My decisions are usually based
In emotion…
Gut feelings…
Reflexes and instincts…
Basic animal needs…
I’m a fairly intelligent caveman,
But I still sometimes respond
To modern stressors
The way a neanderthal might…
Some moments
Things seem nearly overwhelmingly
Complex…
Other times
I know the end of the movie
As the opening credits begin...
There are few things that surprise me anymore,
Outside of this one thing
That keeps me afloat…
I met her in a cave…
Literally…
But every other crazy thing that happens
Around me and out in the world,
The world of people and society,
None of that 
Really surprises me...
You don’t have to be Jesus
Or psychic
To see into people’s souls…
A basic understanding 
Of psychology and anthropology
Is all you need 
To decipher the code…
Our motivations are always
Fairly primitive
Beneath all the tradition and technology…
It’s easy when you’re watching from the outside…
Not quite so easy to see, however,
When you are in the thick
Of the experience…
Crawling out of the tar pit
A year ago
Puts the now in perspective…
I am in a much more comfortable place…
I have love and support…
I have someone to protect…
Regained much of what I had lost…
What was taken from me
Both materially and spiritually…
So this past week
Is just a minor setback…
I have been through much, much worse...
x

Delicate and Combustible (Recovered from August 6, 2018)


Everything is so
Fucking delicate…
Everything in life
Just hangs on by a thread…
Spiderweb gossamer…
It may be stronger than steel
In tensile strength,
But there’s really
Not much to it…
The skin of our teeth…
When my mind goes to 
Darker places,
Sometimes
The only way to control it
Is to force myself
To think in Clichés…
The best laid plans of mice and men…
For example…
Memories from college literature classes,
“The center can not hold,
Things fall apart…”
Entropy…
Whiskey or rum
Used to help me loosen up
To write down
A few pearls
When i was in college…
Jim Beam, and marijuana, and L.S.D.
Wrote a whole novel 
In about two weeks
Back in college…
Internal emotional turmoil
Easily wrote the rest…
Today,
It’s just a 4-Loko…
Premium Malt Beverage…
Who knows what that will do…
Most of the great writers
Were wasted most of the time…
A good portion 
Were outright addicts…
When you see too much
Every time you look out at the world,
You sometimes need
To self-medicate…
Life is fragile
And it is painful…
Delicate
And combustible…
Sometimes explosive…
My curse
Is that I tend to have a slow,
Quiet burn…
I can hold grudges
For lifetimes…
I’m vengeful,
When I’m not mindful…
And I’m not always mindful…
Every now and then
Mr. Spock
Falls prey
To his human emotions…
Irrational thoughts…
I strive to be logical and rational,
But my emotions
Are a force of nature
That I must
Constantly subdue…
I strive to be rational,
But who I really am,
At the very center,
Is not rational…
It is a small lemur-like primate
Driven by emotional responses
To the random cruelty
Of daily living…
There is no loving God
Watching over your every move…
Protecting you…
I’ll allow myself to believe in
The power of human intention,
And the protection of ancestors
Whose spirit energy
Never dies…
But God?
There is no God.
The Universe,
Through quantum physics-type theory,
I can entertain the the thought
That it has an awareness of itself…
That we are all
Just tiny parts of one gigantic mind…
My emotions run hot like the Yahweh
In the Old Testament...
As above, so below…
But I don’t think this “thing”
Is any more aware
Of it’s inner workings
Than we are
Conscious
Of our own inner workings…
I can entertain the thought
Of destiny, karma, an afterlife,
Even some grand design,
Without having to accept
The idea of some “loving God”
Who reigns down floods and hellfire
On his children…
Who kills innocents by the millions…
And tortures his creation since,
As The Book of Job will inform you,
God, the omnipotent and omniscient,
Knower and Creator of all things,
Causes all of the good
And all of the evil…
It’s all a part of the divine plan…
And you’re supposed to accept it…
No matter how often he fucks with you…
Taking your health…
Killing your children…
Pressing you down and down
And down and down…
And just like in Army Basic Training,
You’re supposed to say,
“Please, Sir. May I have some more.”
Fuck that.
To quote Conan, the Barbarian:
“Crom, I have never prayed to you before. I have no tongue for it. No one, not even you, will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought, or why we died. All that matters is that two stood against many. That's what's important! Valor pleases you, Crom... so grant me one request. Grant me revenge! And if you do not listen, then to HELL with you!”
That’s pretty much my relationship with God,
At this point.
I believe in the power of human intention.
Especially multiple minds focusing on one outcome…
I believe that can change the physical world
Through non-physical means…
And I delve deep into superficial philosophy,
When I’m trying to avoid thinking
About what is really on my mind…
Distractions…
Pocket-Sand…
Every single moment of my life
Is made of playing cards and matchsticks…
Here comes some repetition of form…
Delicate and combustible…
Just the smallest whisper of a breeze
And the seams can un-seam…
One spark
Can make things explode…
Just one tiny moment
Where things don’t feel just right
Can try to un-make
A lifetime of progress…
{progress?}
I don’t want to question everything,
There are some things I want to
Confidently and comfortably accept,
But at this point in my life
I know
That nothing is guaranteed…
More clichés,
There is light at the center of everything dark,
And there is something dark
At the center of everything light…
Nothing in this life is pure…
Shadows always creep into every scenario…
It offers perspective…
Like the fact that
Right now
I realize I would probably need
Two 4-Lokos
To become completely honest…
Thank God, I only bought one…
(And you already know how I feel about God…)
I can go more humorous,
Or I could get darker…
I know how dark my thoughts can get…
I can’t afford to let them go there…
Darth Vader is a cute analogue
To how my mind can twist…
Fortunately for others,
I stuff the emotions down so deep
That I wind up in an ICU
In a medically induced coma…
Good Times!!!
Probably the most interesting month of my life,
Thus far…
So…
Not a total loss…
Physical and emotional turmoil
Builds character,
Right?
I’ve got all the character I need…
Please, stop…
Nothing is guaranteed,
Nothing really has any roots,
Even mountains can crumble to a plain
In the space of a day…
So why hope for more?
What’s the actual point?
The more you learn, the harder it gets…
Just like a video game…
But this one never seems to let you win
In the end…
Heartbreak after heartbreak…
Setback after setback…
Constant reinforcement
That you were not meant to win…
So fuck that mindset…
I can make my own destiny…
Fuck all your Gods…
God is just like all of us,
Confused and angry,
And praying to some imaginary deity
For salvation…
“As above, so below…”
So, cosmic bullshit
Goes top to bottom
And bottom to top…
And I often try to make the pain
Become universally applicable
When I am attempting to
Make my life
Seem “normal”...
Just the way the cookie crumbles…
Still not drunk enough to say what’s on my mind though, right?
So many useless secrets…
Loose lips sink ships…
I can only pantomime my frustration…
Charades…
Pictionary...
And, bad pun, Trivial Pursuit…
If it’s meant to be, it’ll be…
Baby, just let it be…
But that’s not necessarily my style…
I push the river all the time…
Occasionally, I have altered the course
Of the river…
Enough times
To make me over-confident
That I can change the course again…
I’m not that strong…
I am very delicate…
And sometimes combustible…
Built on playing cards
And matchsticks…
Held together with loctite
And duct tape…
Brittle and flammable...But, God Damn,
I’m good at avoiding what I really want to say...
x

Going To Have To (Recovered from February 17, 2018)


Going to have to
start carrying a small note pad
and pen with me…
Some decent ideas
float through the mind
on any given day…
Going through the meditation
that is
the day to day
everyday…
It clears the mind
and allows you to wander
even as you perform your duties
and pay your bills…
Most of our perception of the world is
imagination, visualization, and expectation…
We see what we want to see…
We see what we make in our own image…
But, 
anyways,
a lot of good ideas
get lost in the mist…
A lot of potentially usable words
get disposed of like paper towels
day after day…
I know you can’t save them all,
and, 
sometimes,
they don’t have to be recorded,...
Don’t have to be uploaded to the cloud…
Don’t have to be posted to the blog…
Don’t even have to be private messaged to my love…
Some words
are just part of the meditation
and the mantra…
Most of them come back around…
Every idea has a fairly recurring theme…
Stray thoughts and musings…
What Connecticut Yankee college boy 
wouldn’t want to be the next Mark Twain?
We’re already all the next buddha…
Every single one of us…
Every single living thing…
Just another word in the mantra, repeating…
Just another case of history, repeating…
Another form of meditation…
The Universe in contemplation…
Considering itself…
Observing itself in a tiny mirror…
In a multitude
of tiny mirrored slivers…
A shattered self once unified,
but now
splintered into
all that we see
and
all that we will ever be...
x
x

Grinding (Recovered from April 17, 2018)

There are periods of accelerated growth…
And there are periods of dormancy…
The illusion of death
or the illusion of life…
The mill stone keeps turning…
Grinding…
Piece by piece
and bit by bit
the familiar changes…
Stone becomes dust…
Grain becomes dust…
In the end,
after everything settles,
ashes…
Nourishment…
Fertilizer…
Rain falls
with a gasp…
And a sigh…
And a smile…
Then petrichor…
Life in the soil
waking up
after soaking up
the moisture…
Rich dark tones…
Warmth and coolness
marbled together…
Memories tied to every
olfactory trigger…
Dozens of them
spanning a lifetime…
Still only just waking up
from a long sleep…
Still only just beginning
to scale the mountain…
There are many different kinds
of waking up…
Quite a lot of levels
to navigate through…
Miles, still, to travel…
Be thankful for your
relative health…
Don’t take it for granted…
It’s a tool in your tool box…
A protein in your DNA strands…
Just a little
snippet of code
is all it takes
for a virus
to take hold…
Just the tiniest taste
is enough
to change your world…
Your perceptions of the world…
Your expectations…
Your paradigm…
The lies we trowel over
our underlying realities…
The expectations we have
of ourselves
that we constantly disappoint…
Just one touch,
and everything can change…
Just one small breeze
changes the tone…
Alters the mood…
Confesses the sins…
Washes the feet…
Every little detail
is an essential part
of the daily meditation…
Every success and every failure…
All of it is ink to paper…
Paragraphs in the book…
News to be reported on…
Debriefings…
Redactions…
Enhancements
and illumination…
Stained glass casting altered sunlight
into empty pews…
There is always
emptiness
at the center
of most things…
It is movement
through space and time
that gives us life…
Substance…
Mass and energy…
The faster we travel
the heavier we become…
So take your time…
Study the path…
And take educated steps...
x

A Little Bit Twisted (Recovered from January 9, 2018)


I get a sick little
twisted sense
of self-satisfaction
when someone can’t even 
look me in the eye…
Wandering out and about
looking for the free want ads,
job finders,
and apartment guides,
I periodically see this guy
that I used to work with
a couple years ago
who used to know my ex-wife
even more years ago than that
back in her hometown…
His double life is
landscaper by day, fondling old ladies at the retirement community, and
convenience store clerk by night…
Before the divorce
he could look me in the eye…
Actually asked, “What’s up?” occasionally...
After?
Not so much…
This last time 
he was so pointedly “not looking” at me
that it was hard not to laugh as he fumbled for my change…
Guilty conscience?
Hell,
the old broad probably needed a little ego boost…
A little light on cash…
A little light on weed…
A little light on
self-esteem…
Why else could my mere gaze
be so powerful
as to shrink away
like I was a blinding sun
scorching the desert?
I see the comedy in the situation…
I swear, I’m not dwelling on anything…
Not biting down on any old memories
or any old feelings,
just terribly entertained
by certain reactions
that some people have
to my presence…
And I’ve always had a particularly curious nature…
Inquiring minds want to know…
I’m not exactly a mind reader,
but I can sometimes get pretty close
with deductive reasoning and logic…
Human behavior is neither
elegant nor graceful…
Surprising nor original…
But even the most beautiful
of things
that humans can do
has been done 
untold numbers of times…
None of us are necessarily special…
None of us are really
all that unique…
Think about that dramatic device
in movies
where the camera zooms
right up to the adversary's temple
to show one drop of sweat…
Just about to slide down their 
cheek…
A gunslinger with an eye-twitch
as a tell…
People are both predictable and strange…
Even when you know how the story ends,
it can still be entertaining
to watch the film…
Review lessons learned…
Don’t repeat old mistakes…
Carry on…
Allow yourself
to be entertained
by any random drama
rather than to internalize it
or to become it…
And life will never disappoint
when it comes to 
random entertainment…
There is always something
to raise an eyebrow at...
x
x

Doing the Work, Pt.1 (Recovered from April 17, 2018)


Haven't had time to write much lately…
Wrapped up in the grind of life…
Working two jobs for the first time in my life…
Was never healthy enough to manage that
For most of my adult life…
Now I am gladly going headlong into it…
There is a purpose…
There is a goal…
I have a reason to put in the effort…
She is my reason…
She fished me out of the water 
At a time when I was drifting
At the mercy of the tides…
Reminded me that I was alive…
Awakened me with a kiss…
Now I work to eventually provide us a home…
I want her with me…
Every night…
Not just sometimes…
All the time…
Work mode, however, is different than
Creative mode…
There are still a thousand thoughts 
Swirling around my head
At any given moment
And it is easy for me
To distract myself
With them…
Or run right off the tracks…
Focus isn't always easy…
Writing can order the thoughts,
But it takes real time…
And time, for us humans, is not infinite…
Eat, sleep, work…
There is more to it than that,
But sometimes more of this
And less of that
Is the temporary sacrifice
That has to be made…
Sleep has become somewhat of a luxury…
I ration it out 
The best I can…
Opportunities will arise
In time…
Creative phases are a sine wave…
They move like biorhythms…
Like seasons changing…
Accelerating and decelerating
As they orbit
Responding to gravitational forces
And pressed upon
By the solar wind…
Falling through space…
Life can feel that way sometimes…
You can let it push you,
Or you can push back…
At just the right angle,
With just the right amount of force…
Like martial arts,
Be like water…
Many irons are in the fire 
At the moment…
The creative mind is stretched
Like a spider's web…
Rooted onto multiple 
Points of interest…
Trying to catch any new ideas…
Any creative innovations…
Vibrations in the web
Create anticipation…
And the entire web is vibrating…
What to eat first?
What new project needs to be
Consumed and digested?
Planning…
The web is the map…
It may look chaotic and unplanned
At first glance…
But the actual calculations
Have been precise…
Every thread
Deliberately placed…
Taking into account
Natural chaos
And the turning of Fortune's wheel…
Every detail has meaning…
Some things are meant to be…
Written in the tea leaves
Or a scattering of feathers and  bones…
These things need the most work…
These things need the most attention…
These things are meant to be…
x

Focused Intent (Recovered from March 15, 2018)


Struggling with a weak signal...
The Wi-Fi here
is sluggish and frustrating...
So few things travel at the speed of thought...
At the speed of want...
What we desire to have happen
rarely happens
when we want it to happen...
It can happen in a flash
when you're not wanting it
so feverishly,
but perspective is different
when your eyes are closed...
An instant
could be something
that had decades of backstory
and preparation
to become,
so long as we are
unaware...
Traveling with open eyes and set expectations
takes energy...
Slows momentum...
A watched pot boils
several nanoseconds slower
than an untended one...
Conscious attention increases the mass
of any given situation
thus requiring ever more energy
to push that idea
to its birth...
We rarely simply
let the current carry us...
We rarely do anything
without protestation or resistance...
We sometimes see obstacles where there are none...
We see openings
that turn out to be illusion...
Brick walls
that we could climb
had we seen them
instead of careening headlong
into them...
Patience is a virtue, I've heard said,
but virtue is a subjective construct, 
and patience is simply
learning to settle for less
than you deserve...
Limitation is an illusion
that millions of smaller minds
force upon the potentially great...
The idea of limitation
keeps the masses under control...
The lie of limitation
kills the best of us,
and often elevates
the worst of us
to the top...
Tradition and mythology
like a lead weight
capping a well...
Concrete and rebar
making up our tomb...
Digging through is not impossible,
but it is slow going...
And you need tools...
Very specific, hardened steel tools...
And all along
the clock is ticking...
We are only given so much time
to complete the journey...
Only so much time to
figure out the puzzle...
Not everybody does...
But everybody eventually dies...
I guess that's our motivation...
Beat the clock
while wading through molasses...
Swimming across rivers of thick honey,
we often don't taste the sweetness of it
through the struggle
to not drown in it...
Limbs grow tired...
What could simply sustain,
can also suffocate...
We have no real choice
but to keep struggling...
Warriors in constant training...
Focused intent...
Rising above the time it takes
to lose awareness of time...

Friday, October 8, 2021

Two Steps Forward (Recovered from January 17, 2018)


Two steps forward…
One step back…
Three steps forward…
Two steps back…
There is a tendency towards
the good
lately,
but…
setbacks within,
built in to the script,
make it a drunken
dance towards
a goal…
eventually…
You’re generally
not allowed to be too
anything
for too long…
Feeling too good?
Gut check…
Feeling too bad?
Windfall…
Feeling too secure?
Minor disaster…
Sometimes when falling
there are safety nets…
And sometimes there are
no nets at all…
Nothing but bone jarring concrete
to wake you up…
Or to put you to sleep…
We’re supposed to be 
that boxer
who keeps getting up
no matter how badly he gets beaten…
But it gets dizzying
spiraling in circles…
Tracking on a sine wave…
Regular and repeating…
For the most part…
From the dark to the light
to the gray
and then back again
in random order…
Red light…
Yellow light…
Green light…
“You can’t always get what you want,”
says The Stones.
“But if you try, sometimes,
you get what you need.”
Often exactly when you need it…
Conspicuously synchronistic…
Suspiciously serendipitous…
Just as often,
however,
there is the exact opposite…
Sometimes you just get screwed…
No rhyme or reason…
Sometimes you’re the lizard…
Sometimes you’re the stick…
But it’s still just
lizard-on-a-stick…
Life on the verge
of major positive change…
But always with 
some lesson 
in the cultivation of patience…
I want it all
and I want it now,
but life steps in 
and has other plans…
That’s the way it goes…
Try to roll with it…
Keep your head…
Land on your feet…
And any other collection of 
inspirational literary cliches…
Hope is like a buoy
rising and falling with the tide and the waves…
Sometimes correcting
as the stock market often does…
Can’t be too happy…
Not for too long…
That’s not often allowed
free of some kind
of complication…
There’s inevitably
a fly in the ointment…
It is sticky stuff,
after all,
creating this reality
from raw chaos…
Choosing to be a part of this place,
if we have a choice,
sometimes seems like madness....
Crawling to this place
from the cool comfort
of chaos...
  
x
x

Well Worn and Threadbare (Recovered from March 5, 2019)


This feeling,
Bittersweet,
Realizing that all
Of those love songs
Over the years
Weren’t being felt
For the right reasons…
For the right person…
Just practicing the emotions
For the eventual one
As it turns out…
Was it wasted time?
I suppose not…
Life experience to help me grow
Into the man she needed me to be…
Needs…
I’m still growing, learning,
Becoming more aware…
Change is fairly constant…
All those heartfelt love poems
Written over the years
To people I no longer know…
They weren’t even written
About who those people really were…
They were written about what my heart wanted…
And I desperately tried to fit them in
to that love story playing out
In my head…
I should have major trust issues,
And I actually do,
But…
No matter how many times
They turned out not to be
“The One”,
that hasn’t killed my ability
To love again…
Oxytocin is an addiction, after all…
All those words…
All those old emotions…
Remembering them
Like old songs
That used to have relevance…
I’ve written about this before,
But with different context…
Music roots my emotions
When I can’t get a handle on them
Myself…
It is the root of my ability to remember
Chronological time…
There’s some emotional fatigue
From everything I’ve put myself through
Over the years…
I feel more real though…
Velveteen rabbit imagery is also a common
Device I run to 
When writing about emotions…
And when we are finally real…
When someone finally, really loves us…
And we feel the same way in return...
We are well-worn and threadbare…
There are scars…
A map of our life written in our flesh 
And burned into our synapses…
Our pain allows us to understand each other…
It is our many teachers…
Still learning, 
Still growing,
I think we are designed to work better
In pairs,
Doesn’t matter the gender…
I would like to grow with her…
All of those words from the past
Could be about her…
Could have been about her…
But our relationship
Has been more complex
And textured
Than any of my others…
Time was taken…
Years of getting to know each other
As friends,
First…
I would like to be able to say
“With no ulterior motives”...
But
There are so many times I’ve wanted this,
Exactly this,
Over the past 7 years…
Whenever my life began to fall apart,
She was the person
Who was there
To let me shed tears
In her presence…
Without telling me to calm down…
Without judgement...
To let me know
Everything was going to be alright…
That means more than everything…
All of those love poems,
Thirty three years of them,
Scribbled into dozens of journals,
Were all 
About the wrong women...

I Am Iron Man (Recovered from December 12, 2018)


Photo flash,
Snap shot,
Jump cut,
Sketchy  edges...
Where to go from here…
Claws catch and teeth bite,
Not a Jabberwock in sight…
Who’s to say
What’s wrong or right…
Chains are broken…
The balloon rises
With a whoosh of the gas jet
Heating the contents…
Lighter than air…
The unbearable lightness of being…
A distant memory…
A whisper on the wind…
Constant distractions…
Constant interference…
Snowy television static...
Crackling...
Electric...
White noise nothingness…
Little blue pills
Used to do the job
Until the doc stopped prescribing them…
It’s all in my head,
I suppose…
Daddy’s little helpers…
Unnecessary ego boosters…
Introverted Intuitive Thinking Judging…
Basket after basket dipping into the well
And pulling up sludge
From the depths…
This is supposed to be
The elixir of life…
There is darkness in it…
And there is light…
Good and evil
Are fairly arbitrary
Human inventions…
Back slash,
Hack back,
A witch back in college
Predicted a heart attack…
We make our own destiny…
Nothing is predetermined…
Nothing was meant to be
Any more than 
What is…
It is what it is…
There really is no mystery to it…
It is mathematics…
It is arithmetic…
Logistics and planning…
Do not make a move
Without a plan of attack…
Every interaction can be extrapolated
To a fairly predictable conclusion
Given logic and analysis…
Dreamers are self-deceivers…
Pheromones and hormones…
Every crease in the lips,
Or the corners of smiling eyes,
Tells volumes…
Is it for entertainment purposes?
Some bearded man in the sky?
Greek Gods?
Playing us on a chess board…
Nothing we do is of our own choice,
Is it?
Illusion and delusion…
Weakness trying to look strong
While we pick ourselves apart 
In the darkness…
Cannibalizing our bodies
And our souls…
Are we good enough?
We all ask this question…
We all have many
Dark nights of the soul…
We beg for pity
While being repulsed by pity…
Not everything has meaning…
Not every coincidence
Is anything more
Than coincidence…
Heavy boots of lead...
x
x

This Versus That (Recovered from November 7, 2017)


Ten thousand things to think about...
A million things to worry about...
The end of something,
and the beginning of something else...
I guess that's how life goes, regardless...
There's a dove-tail of one era 
transitioning into another...
Like jumping passing trains
going in opposite directions...
The last one was going backwards,
now this one is going forwards...
The beginnings of the ending world
were questionable,
somewhat uncomfortably taboo,
and, I'm pretty sure,
an abomination before God
in some religious mythologies...
A typical Jerry Springer episode
versus Masterpiece Theater...
I got a lot of mud on my boots
metaphorically speaking...
In the new world,
the boots are clean and new,
even if literally covered in cave mud...
The first one started
above ground,
but carried a massive amount of baggage
that cast long shadows
over the duration of it...
The darkness in it
made it hard to see,
hard to focus...
This new one
started in a cavern,
the womb of the Earth,
but feels incredibly light...
Blindingly bright,...
I can see it so clearly...
I can stare right into it without pain...
It is like a sun at the center of the Earth...
The last was like giving up or running away...
Uneasy resignation to my perceived limitations...
The next is like acceptance of my potential...
The difference is 
sleight of hand
versus
actual magic...
Fakirs versus shaman...
Stockholm Syndrome or Florence Nightingale Syndrome
versus true love...
Slow death versus a bolt of lightning
bringing the dead back to life...
Genetic engineering versus Mendelian genetics...
Tomatoes with Arctic fish genes spliced into them
versus tender pea pods just following natural selection...
Life always finds a way...
Sterile versus fertile...
Barren desert versus lush rain forest...
Forced versus flowing...
Swimming through a river of cold swords
versus
laying on a lush, green hillside
warmed by the sun...
Pain versus pleasure...
Pushing away versus holding close...

x
x

Cooked Flesh (Recovered from December 2, 2017)


It’s been a few days since I
tickled the keyboard
to push out a few thoughts…
There are
things on my mind
to express,
but there are things on my mind…
Thoughts can either focus or distract…
*
Of course,
taking a bite of molten pizza
so hot that 
cooked flesh peels off
the roof of your mouth
just minutes later…
That blister immediately bursting
and grey/translucent skin
hanging down…
That can be a distraction…
But there are worse things…
*
I think I just had a fairly interesting dream…
Lately, I don’t usually remember
if I still have them…
But I know that I do…
The only detail was driving on a flat tire…
And then losing the car…
Forgetting where it was parked…
There were many odd and interesting details,
but on waking,
as often happens,
that world and all of its details
quickly fades…
But it’s when I remember all of the details
that there is cause for concern…
There are worse things…
*
So I’m writing
to make sure I keep writing…
Admittedly, a little distracted…
Lost something recently that,
well,
every time I find it,
it seems to immediately go away…
Over time…
Throughout my life…
Always eluding my grasp
like philosophy…
Always bittersweet in affect…

The same song playing over and over
in the next room
over deep snoring…
Can’t identify the song over the sawing,
but it seems to have been playing for hours
on a loop…
Slept through it,
but it may have worked its way into the dream…
There are worse things…
You can get used to anything
with proper conditioning…
Comfort and discomfort are subjective…
*
I’ve got lots of things to be happy about,
but I can still allow a little bit of a slump
in my shine…
It’s not permanent…
But it is a real emotion…
It was a real thing…
There was a vague feeling of helplessness
in that dream I can’t quite remember…
So it was just the kind
that processed current and personal events…
Sometimes life has to let you know
it is real…
Very real…
Tread lightly…
And take care
in every little thing that you do…
*
I can hear the zombie dog
stumbling by the baby gate
that guards my door…
He’s beginning to lose conscious control
of his limbs,
his bladder,
likely his vital organs…
Darkness fading in around the edges…
Visibly so…
I try to help him up and down the back stairs,
but the help he actually needs
is someone compassionate enough
to end his life…
And that person isn’t me…
*
That person isn’t me, right now…
x
x

Sisyphean (Recovered from November 28, 2017)


Still a bit of an edge in the air…
I am more happy than
I have felt in years…
But a little darkness
always has to creep in…
The wheel in the sky keeps on turning…
Sometimes
it rolls right over us…
For good or for bad
we get repeatedly crushed
into the dirt…
But keep getting back up…
I will continue
to keep getting back up…
Fall after fall…
Experience gained…
Knowledge acquired…
Wisdom earned…
Everything
must be assimilated and integrated…
Resistance is futile…
Growth will continue…
Approaching the event horizon…
Time slowing
the closer we get…
Time stretching…
Attenuating…
Crackling energy
like Tesla coil lightning
arcing…
Flashes in the darkness…
A crackling blue white light…
Sometimes an empty room
save for the observer…
Observing…
Sometimes a shared space
with participation and social interactions…
Sometimes the wheel
is bittersweet in its affect…
As if it knows your greatest weaknesses,
makes it personal,
rather than being totally blind chance…
What are the odds?
What are the probability permutation calculations?
Does every little thing have to have meaning?
I believe that it does, 
but
some things do appear to be senseless…
Even if there is a pattern,
however,
correlation doesn’t always imply causation…
Allegedly, blind chance is a thing…
Yet another probability within the realm of possibility…
But it does exist in a matrix of very interconnected
ideas, events, consciousness, chaos, and laws…
Allegedly, entropy is a thing…
Everything tends towards disorder naturally…
Unless there is conscious will exerted…
Consciousness holds together perceived reality…
It’s the glue that holds it all together…
The unified field could be one giant mind…
Some field of energy encompassing everything
that is aware on some level
of itself…
Feeling, thinking, emoting,
exerting its will, on occasion…
Creating and destroying…
Existing…
Even wondering why it indeed does exist,
if it really exists at all…
Is it a projection of something else?
The illusion of something in bloom
that actually folds into itself
tighter and tighter,
smaller and smaller,
while what we see
appears to be constantly expanding
and accelerating…
Philosophy gets my mind off of cold, hard
real life problems…
Like dealing with emotions regarding loss…
Telling myself there is no use,
sometimes,
in asking why…
Just keep moving…
Keep on keepin’ on…
Keep pushing that boulder up that hill…
It’s great exercise…
No matter how many times
it rolls back down the hill…
Great for the arms, legs, back…
Unimaginable strength to be gained…
Nothing is really pointless
if you ascribe some meaning to it…
Imagination being subjective,
who’s to say
your ascription is incorrect?
Keep rolling that boulder
like some oversized dung beetle
doing its thing…
If you can’t find meaning,
you can create it…
There is always a way…
There is always a path...
And although that path may have a thousand branches
it will always lead you
home…
x
x

Lifted (Recovered from October 30, 2017)


Well,
the starter is likely gone
on the new car...
Dead in the parking lot
of a Circle K
in Georgetown, TX...
Got a tow from some friends and
I'll be broke just a little longer
than I had planned...
But I'm still 
Happy...
There's some feelings going on
that are keeping me positive...
So this is one of those
Hakuna Matata moments...
No worries...
I am happily prepared to shake up my world
in ways that some might call foolish...
Anxiously awaiting whether the crowd in the colosseum
gives a thumbs up or a thumbs down...
Are you not entertained?
We wander around on the surface of the planet
doing what we do...
Experiencing...
Travelling through time...
"This too shall pass" - keepin' it real...
But some things can last a lifetime...
I used to believe that...
I still think it's possible...
Communication is necessary...
Open lines, full transparency, all that stuff...
A busted starter can't stop me...
I have clear focus of intent
and I can dance over the backs of turtles
and alligators
to cross the river...
And the sun is still shining...
I'm still basking in its warmth...
I feel my transplanted roots
beginning to establish themselves...
Bright yellow oak pollen
all around like springtime
is how my thoughts are carried,
gently swirling dust devils
making my intentions transparent
to more perceptive individuals...
This new thing...
These totally new yet distantly familiar feelings
keep me lifted...
They hold me aloft...
They make me feel stronger...
Like I could face any obstacle and be the victor...
So, yeah, the starter...
Hakuna Matata...
I've got the world in my hands
and I'm ready to crack open the pinata...
Soon...
Steady as she goes...
Mixing pragmatism with heart and gut
like fingerpaint...
I run my hands over every surface...
Every curve of her flesh...
So sweet...
I can't be sad or upset
in the presence of this...
The way this makes me feel...
How right everything seems to feel...
Like Superman basking in our yellow sun...
Jettisoned from a dying world
to this place...
This comfortable blue and green ball...
And that star blazing...
Energizing...
Energized...
Everything is going to be alright...
Every little thing...
No worries...

x
x

Thirteen Pages (Recovered from November 25, 2017)


Thirteen pages left in journal #67…
I guess it wasn’t always an unlucky number,
but it turns out
it’s an unlucky number…
Things happen…
Life can be sometimes cruel, 
Place a chill in your heart,
But
Don’t give up…
Never let go
of the hope that you have…
Keep your love alive
if you have love in you to give…
Only burn bridges if you have to,
for your sanity, for your health…
Keep your friends close to your heart
even if you never really talk
and there are thousands of miles
and years between you…
Connections made
go far beyond physical proximity…
Never be ashamed of who you are,
or who you were,
or who you are becoming…
I went through years of letting my soul die…
Sliding lower and lower beneath the waves…
I let who I am get a little lost along the way…
That kid who wrote love poems like they were the air he breathed…
The young man who couldn’t get enough
knowledge, art, love and sex, music and inspiration…
The man who could see that everything is connected
and the scientific is the mystical
when it comes down to it…
I almost let all of that fade away…
Slow death without the actual physical death…
Not that I didn’t come close to that…
But life can wake you up,
even with a little death…
Being an essential part of being alive,
death, when it is physical,
is only a reminder
that the soul you have in you,
the love you can contain,
is so much more important than the corporeal body…
Don’t give up…
Keep searching…
Keep tending that garden soul…
The rich earth beneath it…
The sky above it whether sun or clouds or stars or storms
sending down rain…
Keep meaning in your existence…
Know that every little scrap
is trying to teach you how to live and love…
Even if you believe that we are
Just meat
When we die,
You can feel that spark…
You are a part of the mystery…
As long as you live,
Don’t let that spark die…
Don’t let anyone
Smother your flame…
Keep hope alive…
Keep burning until your last breath…
Even when you are feeding the hungry grass and wildflowers,
You have a purpose…
Your energy lives on…
Your memory inspires
Those who loved you…
One butterfly wing pushing that delicate body upwards
Changes every other detail
In the universe…
Be the change you want to see
In this place…
Don’t give up…
Don’t give up on those you love…
Inspire them with your love…
Be as weird as you like…
As free as you can stand…
Face the fire like Vulcan…
Be the tempered steel blade
That is stronger
From the flame and frost…
Live now…
Look to the future with hope…
Sometimes it is all we have…
Do not give up...

x
x

Humanity (Recovered from December 14, 2017)


A darkness
sometimes settles over my brow
when I observe
the world around me…
A world of hypocrites
and manipulators…
People who are not being
their authentic selves
trying to portray a person
outwardly
that is in no way similar
to the heart of who
they really are…
Narcissists and the superficial…
I can feel the stares
and I meet their gaze
because I choose to be
exactly who it is that I am…
I can feel their judgement…
Sometimes I laugh inwardly
at their ignorance…
Sometimes I could burn the world
if I had that power…
There are some 
flecks of gold,
some shards of diamond,
in the throng,
but they are few and far between…
It would seem…
I’d like to try 
to give the benefit of the doubt
in my own judgement,
but I’ve been observing human behavior
for far too long
and I can see their motivations,
their greed and hubris…
The weakness and the ignorance…
I’ve trained myself
to look deeper than the surface…
So much deeper than the skin…
I’d be a Hell of a profiler,
because half of the time
I see the gears of the clock
grinding in someone else’s psyche,
every little broken tooth
desperately trying 
to interlock through the dust 
and the grease
and the grime…
Humans are dirty little creatures,
in general…
Often untrustworthy…
And you’d better watch your back,
because humans 
are a human’s worst enemy…
I have fought the urge to isolate
throughout my life
because I sometimes can’t help
but to analyze people
when I watch them…
When I’m around them,
watching them interact
with well worn shallowness and self-interest…
People-watching can be entertaining,
but somewhat depressing
once you begin to make 
certain connections…
Human behavior, while apparently unpredictable,
is actually extremely predictable...
Watching the news
and reading the news
is no different…
It’s as if the country’s id,
the darkness at the core
of that once shining beacon
of light,
has become the dominant force
for a time…
But… 
As above, so below…
It is just a reflection of who we are…
We definitely do not have to be this way…
Well,
maybe most of us have no choice…
We come together in times of crisis
and can work well enough
together
to get certain common goals accomplished,
occasionally,
but, while there is compassion out there
in hidden pockets
and surprising places,
I could stand to observe a lot more
compassion and introspection
in the people around me
when I venture out into the public…
I know that we are literally animals,
not the “Crown of Creation”,
not some favorite of any God or Gods,
just primates with technological experience…
Cavemen doing cavemen things…
Scratching in the dust of the earth 
for food and attention…
Wanting to be at the center of the Universe
while we are really
at its furthest edges,
likely, not even originally
from the area…
Speeding through space
and just got caught up 
in the gravity…
Snagged on the grinding gears…
x
x

Knowing Yourself (Recovered from December 3, 2017)


I’ve heard it said
that the person we were,
the person we are,
and the person we are becoming
are all different people…
I’ll have to disagree…
When I was a child,
I was bratty and loud,
and I had temper tantrums
if I didn’t get my way…
I’m still the same child,
I just learned that behavior like that
bore no fruit…
So I changed my behavior…
I gained knowledge,
but inside my head,
I still have little internal tantrums…
When I was a pre-teen,
I was quiet and shy,
a bit withdrawn…
I am still that pre-adolescent…
I just learned that behavior like that
bore no fruit…
I gained knowledge,
and changed my behavior…
Conditioned myself to be more social…
But inside, I am still that shy little kid…
In college, my twenties,
I was a ladies man…
Couldn’t get enough sex, drugs and Rock and roll…
Slept with dozens and dozens (and dozens)
of beautiful and articulate women…
Also learned that doing that
led to lots and lots of unnecessary drama…
So I gained knowledge,
and I changed my behavior…
I am still that over-sexed young man,
but I don’t have to externalize that fact…
I learned that one woman
can fulfill all of that need…
From my thirties to my forties
I gave my love to one woman
for about fifteen years…
I was a devoted and faithful husband
for about 15 years…
I learned that
being devoted and faithful
doesn’t necessarily
make the wife think that is true…
I learned that love has to be returned,
not just given…
I learned that a woman can stop loving you
because you are disabled…
I learned that even love itself
isn’t always the answer…
There has to be give and take…
I learned that some people 
can love their hate
more than they love you…
I’m the same man now
that I was for that nearly 15 years,
but I learned a whole lot of new information
and adjusted my behavior accordingly…
That same old me
practiced seeking happiness over physical things,
practicing gratitude for what I have,
rather than regret over what I do not…
This is the secret to real success…
And my life has changed radically throughout the years,...
My behavior has changed accordingly
when new information is introduced,
but I was always the same man, boy, child…
I was born being me…
I just didn’t know anything yet…
I needed to learn who “I” was…
And even though my behavior has changed,
my personality has been relatively the same,
just with minor to major external modifications
in response to the chaos
that the world can cast off…
I’m the same romantic teenager
who wrote love poetry
because love felt good
(even, sometimes, when it was not returned)
and writing about it
filled a specific need in me
to express that feeling…
That hasn’t changed…
I have learned that captivity
can suck that need to express
right out of me…
But even during my captivity,
I was still me…
That likely caused my captor
no end of consternation…
I was me,
and she couldn’t deconstruct me…
My behavior could be modified,
but I was still me…
I was still learning…
I’ve been an “observer” since I was an infant…
An armchair anthropologist
watching every detail of the things
going on around me…
How humans interact…
Why they do the things they do…
What are their external and internal motivations…
And I have been learning every step of the way…
Striving to be better…
Next time…
Some lessons take longer than others…
But in the end,
I am still here…
Unchanged except for my behavior…
I have much more wisdom than I used to have
when I was younger,
but I am still me…
Always be you…
Be yourself, always…
Know yourself enough
to know when to change your behavior
to suit your needs…
Know yourself enough to know
that happiness and gratitude
are all you need…
Once you accept this,
everything else
will begin to fall into place…
It may take actual work,
but you will learn what work is worth
and that it is worth your while
to work towards certain goals
in earnest…
There is no need to become some new person…
Some brand new thing…
Just change your behavior…
Seek true happiness
without using others as tools,
stepping stones to whatever you thought
was the “top”...
Allow yourself to learn, constantly…
Always be that teenager who writes poetry
whether it be to woo
or to glorify the love you feel…
Be your passion…
Like you always have…
Maybe you just didn’t know…
Gain knowledge,
and modify your behavior accordingly…
What you are “becoming” is you…
What you’ve always been…
It’s just been covered by a plaque of ignorance, at times…
A thin veneer of egotism, sometimes…
A grimy crust of self-consciousness, other times…
No matter what has been on the surface,
you have always been you…
You may not have known it,
but you were always there…
Maybe hiding…
Maybe even trying to be someone else…
But that is running from the true you…
Embrace yourself,
even if you think you’re evil
or ugly
or damaged
or crazy…
Be yourself…
Love yourself enough
to educate yourself about yourself…
You’re not turning into someone else,
you’re simply learning more and more
about who you are…
Unearthing more and more
of who you really are…
Which is who you have always been…
And who you always will be…
Observe whatever new events enter your life,
observe your reactions to them,
and modify your behavior accordingly…
Become yourself…
Become who you truly are…
You’ve actually been here forever 
just waiting to be unearthed…
And you’ve always been the same individual,
just reacting differently
to different stimuli
over time,
and learning…
Growing…
Knowing…
x
x

Colosseum

There's a school of thought Concerning our ultimate end Positing that we don't experience our own death... That there are branching ...