I feel once again like I just don’t know what happened. Howcome we always end up fighting these days? It doesn’t happen with anyone else in my life. I wish it didn’t happen, because it really sucks, all around. We both end up feeling hurt.

I’m 30+ now. It’s time that I claim some experience. And #1 is this:

People will either take things at face value or they won’t. If they do, great. Nothing special happens and the world continues on. If they don’t, shit breaks — and there’s nothing you can do.

Hard knocks, etc.

I know it won’t make you feel good to see this, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry. And I want you to know that I’m still your friend. But I’m also his friend, and have been since we were as tall as small forest mushrooms.

Life is hard and everyone can not be together. That is the nature of things. But he still cares about you. He cares about you like you would not believe and might not ever understand. So: I have been asked to post the follwing for you:

1) Please contact your boss and quit officially if you don’t mean to come back. Not for anyone else’s gain, just for your own good. Be professional. It’s a small thing and it will be done in five minutes and you’ll never have to think about it again… and it will help you.

2) (Sorry man, I forget this one, I’m a little drunk, so I’ll make one up based on my own advice to her.) Don’t discount the people that care about you. No matter how hard things get, the worst thing you can do is move yourself farther away from everyone who’s on your side, from big to small. There’s nothing worse than alone. You might think there is, but only until you’re alone.

Again, I hope you’ll take this in the spirit in which its intended: from someone who cares, and who is talking to you straight. I don’t make shit up or talk shit. I just tell it all, point blank. Realize and be. And peace and happiness to you. And I mean that.

Regards.

I feel

so . much . better

than I did a few hours ago.

Funny, that.

Okay, time to read.

It’s dismissals that bother me, and that turn annoyances into offenses. I hate it when people pooh-pooh what I feel or what I have to say. I hate ‘Oh, Pleases’ and ‘Give Me a Breaks’ and ‘God, Whatevers.’

I hate having my feelings being made the butt of exasperated jokes.

That’s all, I’ve just had it. HAD IT. @#($*&@#^$&@(#$*

I’m going to go and break stuff.
And then I’m going to go and break more stuff.

I have the patience of Job, but nobody has cut me any slack for a year.

And if any of the women I know say anything about men being violent in response to this, I am going to be even more violent just to prove her point for her because I care for womens’ abilities to make points and am that accomodating to the fairer sex. Yes, I am a man. HATE ME, YOU WOMEN, ’cause I ain’t changing, and half the world is US.

But for now, I have to go and break stuff.

Is it inspiration or something else that strikes when one suddenly gets the impression that one has to post now, before inspriation leaves? Certainly it’s not always clear just what one is to say.

—

Gone already. Well, that’s the way. That the way and I’m getting older.

rain

The level of the ground doesn’t change perceptably at all, moment to moment, but you look back and you see that you’ve actually managed to climb a very large mountain… or that you have managed to wander into a very deep ravine.

Blizzard conditions once again. They’re the one thing keeping me from feeling like I felt last August. It’s time to stop doing this.

I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles
And never frowns
Soon I will be president
Carter power will soon go away
I will be Fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Zen fascists will control you
100% natural
You will jog for the master race
And always wear the happy face
Close your eyes, can’t happen here
Big Bro’ on white horse is near
The hippies won’t come back you say
Mellow out or you will pay

—

Dazed out in a garden bed
With a broken neck lays my broken gift
Just like suicide
And my last ditch
Was my last brick
Lent to finish her
Finish her
Bit down on the bullet now
I had a taste so sour
I had to think of something sweet

It sometimes seems as though every time I sit down to post here, or every time I pick up the telphone to talk to someone far away, or every time I communicate in almost any way at all, I begin with the full intention of finally, after many long years of silence and inaction, making a manifesto — a maelstrom of language and fury full of declarations — of liberty, of indignation, of intent. These are forever on the tip of my tongue and I long to launch them, to shoot them, into others’ armor and pierce the plates that obscure hypocrisy.

Ultimately, however, it seems that one always lacks the courage to say or do such things. One never really means all that one feels, because to be so sincere as to have honest feelings is little removed from suicide, and that of course runs counter to all instinct. There are always, after all, concerns. Relationships, friendships, employability, finances, political criminality — a million little concerns that, in the long run, relentlessly supercede what one really and truly thinks or feels right now.

Is this the fundamental flavor of modernity? Life beneath a perpetual tyranny of cicrumstance and of the self, forever censored by our own interests, lost as person in order to be saved as breathing meat? Does the day ever come when we air our grievances, admit our opinions, let loose our preferences, stand tall in the face of all that will certainly destroy us in spite of ourselves?

Or is it our lot in the twenty-first century, interdependent and small as we are in the face of All of This, to go whimpering to our graves, the beneficiaries of elongated lives that weren’t worth living anyway, carrying out the unimportant 90 percent of every plan while the remaining 10 percent with actual meaning is put off until a tomorrow that never comes?

It’s never clear which one’s the better, and the ambiguity seems to add another layer to the travesty, preventing even a decisive selection between them and resulting in unsatisfactory lives coated in an intellectual and moral layer of hair grease and soap scum.

—

http://www.st911.org

—

Yes, Cheshire.

The world is blessed with two axes: along one lie all concerns, along others all discoveries.

income = concerns
politics = concerns
promotions, make-up, auto paint jobs = concerns
“doing the right thing” = concerns
graduate school = concerns

the mona lisa = discoveries
the human genome = discoveries
music = discoveries
a la recherche dutemps perdu = discoveries
wet trails on high mountains = discoveries

I am sorry all, but I no longer wish to make concerns, I wish to make discoveries. Those who concern themselves with concerns seem invariably to be small-minded, spiteful, unreflectively selfish, trite. I don’t want to be one of those.

only after you have been injured enough
can you truly be strong

It’s the day of a million starts and no finishes. It seems that I have a hundred windows open on my PC, each of them with a task half-done, and a hundred projects in midstream laying about the room and my life, in keeping with my day, feels just ever-so-nearly interrupted for a couple of years now.

The sun, however, is still real, and I have the fleeting sensation of awareness telling me that I ought to grab hold of something and ride it all the way to the horizon, laughing.

Just what that something is… remains to be seen.

—

Again I feel it. I need to pick up a camera and hit the road. That is me. That’s all there is to it.