i was sitting inside

at work, at the restaurant, in the back booth. the rain was spitting everywhere and i was eating a pizza and drinking pomegranate juice. my dad was sitting with me talking but he got up and left. i was in the big booth solo.
i looked out the window at the rain rolling down and moving down the posts and leaves and trunks and glass and people. my mind went off into some state where the chains are removed. then i started thinking about how i want to be indoors, relaxing and just watching the rain and thinking and dreaming. how nice that would be.

then i realized: i am indoors, relaxing, just watching the rain and dreaming. and i realized how nice it was.


desire is a strange devil which teases you as it teases you as it satisfies you. sometimes you get tricked and think you don't have what you want or you aren't where you should be or you aren't what you should be...maybe sometimes it isn't a trick.
...it's getting hard to be someone
but i think it all works out but i think it still matters to me,
kind of.

random from a while ago

"Some mon just deal wit information. An some mon, him deal wit the concept of truth. An den some mon deal wit magic. Information flow around ya, an truth flow right at ya. But magic, it flow t'rough ya" - bob marley


There is a space to be safe
a space to be vulnerable
and a space to cause pain
there are many other spaces
but there is also one space where you can enter all the other spaces

There are lyrics to be written,
stories to be written,
and there are your words and your actions
scratches on your skin and wax in your ear

many things exist to watch out for
a full moment - one of complete focus or one of complete surrender
a seeker - when stopping and resting is always temporary

some friends ask, some tell, some laugh, some listen, some look, some flirt, some want, some wonder, some yell, some whine, some push, some pull...some won't, some will

i admire bold people
-------------------
and now it's two months later, i've just read this over, i have nothing to add because it will take away from whatever it was. i can't access it. is what it is.
now i go have my morning tea

something about a swirling moment

There's a bastard in my whatever and a human in my skull. Sometimes i'm poisoning a mixed drink and sometimes i'm gulping water. In various minutes luck twists the knot and i wiggle into a when who wants a why. luck is like a dice tango with whispers and big drums.
can't stand on the hill when the hill is your nose
however rough we may be i see humans with pillows on their palms, boxing their brothers and sisters,
laughing wildly in windy cul-de-sacs and trying to hang on the moon.

in my childhood, once, i felt a sadness with existence and it became a seasonal allergy.
i try to sniff daffodils and get tripped up on daisy chains
keeping kleenex in my pockets
till one day i find a happiness that makes the sadness good
then i'm
(again) a moon, biting into my curiosity with cheshire cat razors
chewing up the tick of a clock
drooling into morning

seriously corny like popcorn and butter.

Leaves and stems and roots and the dirt.

You begin to peer at life through a different scope when you pay heed to roots and dirt. When fall comes and leaves scatter from trees and crunch on sidewalks; i start to think of memories and the strenuous briefness which spins my life prismatic. I get nostalgia like a cat purrs and i always know the taste of existence was on my tongue before birth and before i ate an artichoke. My soul carries a past like a dream when the words don't come. This is a piece of my love.

More love.

For the things and people around me.

The movements in love: akin to a symphony, which carries you through tears into laughter, from a tear into a fullness, from a wash of wonder to a furious, tempest-like stillness, into a thrashing, a drowning and a gasp of breath at the top with the whole world to look at.
Love - the Yes. over and over.

Wickedness and trickery have shot at me and found my flesh. I've taken wounds to be signs of glory and sought greater things in pain than in love. I ran for pain before love, i ran for pain without love.
I attack myself out of fear. I doubt myself out of fear. I throw stones at others and give myself good reasons. I feed myself with all sorts of smoke and crap and i forget about fathomless love.

Unbounded.

I go on about politics and power. But enough. Now I turn an ear and perk up like a jackrabbit, making myself vulnerable and wearing an armor of confidence and humility. I listen now. No games of petty deceit, no time to try on new masks, no time to practice. The territory must be traversed in naked love. I want to go help people. I have love to give, ferociously dwelling in my guts.

It isn't only the celestial explosion and the bursting sunshine; it's also the cryptic caverns and the ink filled abyss. It's everything and everywhere, spreading in all directions, spilling over the edges and soaking up anything. It swallows power, it makes it stronger. Love is like water. Give water to the people. Drink water. Bath in it. Don't waste it. Take it with you everywhere.

I forgot about love. A human is powerful enough to stop love from growing, transforming, from being and becoming. A plant can wither and die. Worms can chew it up. Death waits at my fingertips and this isn't the never-ending story.

Right now it is early morning, 3am and i will sleep soon.
But i'm swimming in this pool of love and i know something.
About this world and the demons and savages, the mountain springs and fresh winds, the systems and the No's, the corporations and greed, the gluttons, the truths that can be spoken, have been spoken, will be spoken, the people that can be forgiven, the wonder that can be coveted, that quickness that can build a fortress, the slowness that can fill an emptiness, and the silences that have something to say...

I AM FREE

the only freedom is in struggle.
i think.
but i don't know.
...something like, if nothing exists, then everything is possible?
but i think education is good. if you educate yourself too.
and grapefruits are among my favorite fruits. i eat them with a knife.
my greatest weaknesses involve over-analyzing things, getting caught up in spirals of doubt and... being impatient.
but i am also strong. this i know.

"what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire."

they're everywhere.

don't forget the names of colors.
words are important.
must do more here.

'each to his own tastes, said the maid as she kissed the cow'

sometimes people have to adapt to you.
sometimes your brain isn't the van gogh someone's looking for.

a few things i've forgotten about:
-to think big. certain events bring me down and i act like i'm sprawled out on the floor. get up you piece of shit.
-sacrifice. you're not gonna get anywhere without shedding skin and getting cut up. (and this is where i get frustrated being stagnant. and what causes me stress and paranoia. because now i'm not moving...because i haven't been in such positions of sacrifice. not enough. and i don't know what it means to really put myself out so my aorta's in danger of being severed. and yea, this is a lot of talk...just words...)


and that brings me to my current conception of time. until now my understanding of time has been largely constructed by the education system. now that i am free of it (despite my desire to return (perhaps out of some reaching out for comfort)) and now that i've stretched beyond the time where i would be back in school i feel restless and strange.. I keep thinking that there's something i should be doing, somewhere i should be. Or for the future - somewhere i will be. But the slate is clean. things are clay. i'm a sculptor. but i haven't started my work.
so i sit here at home on the couch after being served dinner. and i think about tomorrow and the day after...and the next 5 months. and the next year. and it's all nothing. but i need to take the advice of the warning sign generator.

...start my sculpting career.

privileged child

The president of Uganda in the 1970s was Idi Amin. ruthless he was. a dictatorial regime he ran.

Like a child he played games and laughed when things were good. when victory was in the air he felt strong and confident. His behavior infected everyone. even a corpse of a human could get sucked up in his jovial demeanor. And then things would get bad and he would turn into a storm, destroying things around him without deliberation. he couldn't trust anyone and so he'd lie or kill or grab at reserves of power which he didn't really have, but used as defenses anyways.
See he could get into your soul because he made you like him, because he made you like yourself. But this was only temporary. For some anyways. Soon you realize that this demon is sucking you dry because he's a child in a world of rules and he doesn't have a parent. a parent like Love or whatever it might be. this is his power and his freedom. it is also his downfall. the courage to have convictions and more importantly, the courage to attack one's convictions. the strength to hesitate, the strength to jump. the strength for discipline and control. of oneself.

Amin was overthrown in 1979 and people paraded the streets in joy. he died in Saudi Arabia fairly recently. He killed about 300,000 Ugandans while in power. he didn't want to be a puppet of the British. He became a puppet of his own impulses.


I'm currently sitting at my home in westlake with mono. i don't know how long i've actually had it, but i have a great deal of time on my hands. luckily i do not have a job. absolutely no obligations. it's strange. the privileged child lying in bed while his mommy brings him hot soup and vitamins. With all this time i'd love to be doing interesting things, reading many books, writing a lot. instead i have only small bursts of energy which i use up quickly either to walk up the stairs after getting a cup of tea or to satisfy my animal side. i don't know how long i will be like this. and i have a great deal of time to analyze boring things like my future. where i will go after san diego, what brazil is saying to me, what notes are playing, who will be around.

i will attempt to write things down. i have many thoughts. getting them out is a problem. perhaps i will start talking more although my tonsils are like two golf balls. something will have to happen. i don't know how long this lasts.