I am living in purple but the color in my bedroom is deep red

Why? Cus that shit makes you weak.
Oh that? Yea, I used it for my regiment.
Yea, those were days I lived like a monk.
I forgot a lot of that.

There were many things, distractions of all sorts.
I deleted all the music off the computer. Not going to keep myself on this machine longer then I have to. It ain’t good. for me.

((When you give yourself the freedom of constraint an elastic control propels you forward.))

I now decide to live in the light of my bloodline. All who have allowed me to exist and walk amongst the remains of earth.
I do things my father would do. I write my notes on little pieces of paper I keep in my pockets cus whatever tasks I try to remind myself to do on the computer don’t work. My phone doesn’t work. The simple things work for me. And so I remind myself. I need to remember. That’s why you have folk songs and the blues, stories and whatever else. Everybody needs to remember. Whatever we forget we repeat eventually. And maybe sometimes that’s a good thing. But not for me anymore. One day I decided to quit smoking and I still remember why. Not a reason, but a feeling. I remember feelings better than reasons.

Now we have technological stresses and overwhelming power structures that squash our ability to think beyond limitations defined by those who reinforce said structures. Oh, I mean it can be done. I decide today to stop giving food to the things that I don't want to grow.

All creatures must eat.
Stop FEEDING the demons.


Today I kept myself locked away and I haven’t had a breath of fresh air. I went deep into crevices of my thoughts and found my shoulders curled forward like a vulture, inhaling as shallow as if I were to dip my feet in a trickle of water from the broken shower head in our bathroom. So I said HEY YOU SLOUCHER, PICK YOURSELF UP. You walk in the shadows of something far more vast then you know when you sip that drink. It is this joy and this humbleness in which I now kindly tip my hat towards the ocean's lips which part just down Kirkham through my window.

It has been this life so far – a stew of people, everyday more, on the busses or at work; the dead beat of a new day (if there is no rhythm you get tired quick, so get on your feet man!); this is the dawn, you are my sunrise, the smile inside can peel cobwebs if you just wet its lips; I’ve grown tired of so many weighty things so I begin to strip and find that there is all sorts of cleaning which must be done, hence Sunday as a day of rest, rebirth, preparation, thanks and a forward movement. He said "the world is love" and now I am beginning to see the depth that carries. it's really hard for me to take it easy sometimes.

I was raised to be compassionate and thoughtful, and my parents allowed me to play games in the backyard so I could feed all the inspirations that came my way and I remember so clearly and happily the feeling of running around outside and being called in for dinner but wanting to play and be outside as long as possible before the light went to sleep.
If you can capture that feeling, the feeling of “just five more minutes” then you can crystallize happiness. Because it’s never enough (when you’re a child), but when you get a little older, that feeling of never being enough is the axe that breaks open your window into new days.

That is part one and when I understand the rest I will continue to put it down. But perhaps not in this forum...


Eventually I'll be moving somewhere else.

lots of paint

completely overcome by actual moments. actual possibility.
the ability to perceive a moment. to experience it in a balloon, time being the air inside...
it pops. it goes and it's gone. and then your life consists of just trying to breathe that air. to taste those things again, to see that one, smell this..

a feeling of being stuck inside powers instead of standing above them, wielding them.
there are distractions everywhere. i can't see things in plans, in outlines. it's becoming more difficult to visualiZe.

but i can operate
inside constraints.
even better - one's i set for myself. that i create. that
i create. that

the reach of possibility is infinite. the only way you can operate within the infinite without being torn to pieces is by being.

This means to dance,sing, play. and when you play that means that you are setting up rules around you.

things are getting so blurry for me that i can't really understand what is and isn't "ok"... simple things are hard to grasp. too many choices, tabs open, places to go.

in the end all things die away and you really only loved the people around you.

don't hide the brush strokes, you're painting a masterpiece

the next time

if you say Yes this time...

click

i like records because they force you to be more active with what you are doing.

to physically connect to things. That is where the internet sort of loses importance to me. The physical gets reduced to one finger clicking, your back curling like a vulture and your eyes darting back and forth in front of a dusty 14" screen where you can see your reflection.

i'm thinking some of us should be more active. more touch, more fingers.

im starting to

understand myself in relation to my family, different ways...from brasil a lot, from being at home - the anger turned towards them, misdirected blame, but coming home tonight and talking with my sister briefly, after walking a quiet path to the house sneaking little glimpses at the sky, thinking about missing love, love and then a Full feeling of all things happening at once...
things occurring, people sleeping, kissing their kittens, drooling on their pillows, new fresh love and wild desires or candlelight writing with wet hair and dark music on headphones, crisp nights and clouds make the memory sharper (we learned that?!) and then the day of fast ideas and dogs running free in the mountains, no leash is the name of the game, and sounds taking their places and deep deep love for everyone. today it clawed a place deeper and my oh my, when the anger and hate stop for a moment it becomes quite calm and simple and the shoulders curl back a bit and exhale and things seem in their places (and you realize it's always been so)...

the time isn't the issue. it IS happening.
do not think it isn't.
places we are going, sounds off
from a distance. this is where
travel runs
a circle
completes itself
by spinning
(something you don't see), (you spin too)
dradles come with chocolate.
i'll see ya in the morning over coffee,
i always do.

new juice

Here: rediscovering what it means to be hungry for life.
the people reliably give you the wrong directions, santiago, but they are straightforward people for the most part and i like them. the city is nice. lots of plants, parks where they need to be, a large castle/hill in the middle of the city with a lovely view. there are cool neighboorhoods with madly different vibes. last night - a really shady area with a jazz club called Thelonius. everytime i hear jazz here i go insane, it has such a power and fits the mood of life here strangely but very well. last night the rhythm guitarist with all the chord changes, speaking to me in little poetic jabs.
curiosity is creeping its head back up but it keeps hitting fatigue which i have to beat down with a stick because it aint real and i aint tired and when you're hungry you dont sleep instead, unless you go so long without food that you get pains and then your stomach shrinks and you just feel like shit. i also gotta remember to be patient. there are snakes in the jungle that go so long without eating that when they finally get their prey they suffocate when eating - they are too hungry and excited. i don't wanna wake up from this mind death and then choke, but i also will be pushing the limits and digging..
good to have no phone. good to hear music on the streets, organic and i remember how music has a special way of fitting into places. puzzle pieces.
staying active...
conversation - asking questions, getting things going.
scat is something to look out for in music.
definitely going to music school.
this space from california is very good to get perspective on the things i want and don't want. perpsective on songs and habits and whatever else. but definitely not going back home, not getting into that same shit routine from the past month or more.
san francisco.
mirror television.
art everywhere.
light fixtures make the room
the solo beer under the maple trees on the red couch in the back of the patio looking at the people and taking some nice deep breaths and getting into that good place. also being pushed by lover over 2nd Heini and made uncomfortable, which is numero uno when traveling, the good kind which stretches you out a bit and gets you ready for some serious shit. will return to this blog soon with much more. juices gotta get squeezed sometimes. oh yea, fresh squeezed juices here - fresh fruit, eating well, health, peruvian beanie that i love.

whoalotsofshit

the words, when spoken, kick rocks from your shoulders and let your spine roll back like water. and the Once Familiar crawls back into the tips of your forehead. i felt it tickle and i laughed and laughed while good beats were pounding and i thought of strange ancient music i'd heard recently with nice space that made me think of being high up in the mountains with pure, crisp air.

thoughts have been stabbing into my chest all day and i've reached a nice feeling, strangely, and mike's words about rooftops in san diego with screams of love within prisms of sound. the attainment of happiness. love. the feeling of energy within a crowd all dancing to the same beat, like icicles burning through people's souls and cleansing your body while your mind gets wrapped around your heart beat but you forget where you are.

the power in decision. what you are.
a choice
ripples.

becoming.

work, reflecting back on this period will be creepy. the familiar becomes so eerie when it begins to cover itself in memory. you can dance in chains but sometimes i dance and forget i'm in chains. and sometimes i think about how i'm in chains. but i forget to dance.

this trip will be good. distance from this place will help me figure out what the hell has been happening. i'm caught in so many webs of thoughts that i can't get a grasp on what is going on. i'm very confused.
i know what is good and important though. so concentrating on that is a dandy way to go.
fuckin hell. what have i NOT been doing? what are the things i need to accomplish....
thinking about recording music almost a year ago and what has happened since then....
got a lot of work to do.

mushroom bubble bots eclipsing the sun
aeroplane whiskers tying up light bulbs
wiggle room for a squid a hundred feet long smashing a boat like a splinter
openwaternoescape
thought of imprisonment - the confines of a cell, the mental effect. space and thought, thought within space.
spaceyouearthanimalcombat,whoalotsofshit