Wisdom From The Past

Wednesday, November 1st, 2006
Ah, yes, up for coffee, or maybe not. I just had a couple of shots of some wildly inaccurate truth serum, and lately, it occurs to me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Truth that is. It’s supposed to set you free. Knowing is part of the game I guess, if there need be a game and all (there’s a debate raging there), but I don’t know that it is freeing more than complexifying. It’s making things more complex. Truth’s a let down. It’s a relative term, etc. The sudden realization that, sex is more better, in your head. That’s a truth, and is probably only where it lies…ha! That that, is where is the actual act is (going on), when things external are happening. My, how complex all this is. See what I mean? It’s not elucidating or satisfying at all. It’s conundumbrating. Confounding. Confusing…a muddling to say the least. Oh well, hang the sense of it. Fuck off already, eh? Fuck off. Another month. Another calendar page. Another journal entry, tra-lah-lah-lah.

Shen-sha, Truth, The Thing Is...

We were told, after 9/11, that, the First Casualty of War is the TRUTH. For my money, we’ve been at war for longer than, (and well BEFORE), September 11th, 2001, at least as far as mine eyes have seen the glory. There is a mind-set, “hive” mind, “borg” placement in “cosmic-consciousness”, that says, the mylar balloon that landed or was found in your pool this morning at 5 A.M. is “BLUE” in color. There has to be for that, right? But there DOES NOT have to be a mind-set to believe what is told us when the TV news constantly, persistently “indicates” that there’s to be a MOSQUE at ground zero. No, because that is simply NOT TRUE!!! A community center, yes. Because according to my sources, there are other buildings, in fact mosques, nearer the site of the world trade center in New York City, than this proposed community center. And, ground zero, is in Kansas. The first time I heard that phrase, it was in conjunction with “the end of the world”, and someone figured the low ground point, where all the bombs would rain down and life as we know it would end, was in Kansas, the state, of the United States, of America. And my friend, who was principally a camera operator of video equipment for local San Francisco Bay Area television stations at the time, had told me he intended to be there at ground zero for the shooting of the event. Bay Area. I’m from the Bay Area. Which one? Tampa? Chesapeake? Hudson? When on the West Coast of the United States of America, you say or hear someone say; ‘I’m from the Bay Area’, you “naturally” assume, (Just like the balloon is blue.), San Francisco Bay Area. I don’t, not anymore, because I meet people from all kinds and sorts of Bay Areas. Ground Zero? There are many ground zeros. There’s a coffee shop on Haight Street in San Francisco, near where I used to live in the “lower height” or Western Addition. Several people died in three (3) separate plane-crash locations, on that “fateful” day. There was Shanksville, Pa., and, the “urban village” or “unincorporated” area of Arlington, Va., where the Pentagon is. And, of course, the place in New York City, where once stood two very seriously tall buildings, which were actually about three each tall buildings atop one another. So, there were or are several ground zero’s. Not one. And, for that matter, the world trade center? There’s one in Long Beach, California. There might be more, right here in these ‘United’ States of ‘America’. Point is, it all depends on your mind-set, reference point, hive mind, locus. Just what, your ‘point-of-view’ is. Sure, we all need it, in order to agree that, for all intents and purposes, that that balloon I found in my pool this morning is/was “blue”, but we don’t need it for not getting the facts right about where a mosque is or what a mosque is or whether or not a beautiful community center is going to be built. It IS, thank, goodness. It is, and jews and muslims and christians and atheists and anarchists all are welcome I’m sure. And all will be able to become members and enjoy the fruits of the labor of many people who put it up and maintain it. And none of this should have any bearing on all those people who died on that or any other tragic day in their lifetime. Life should go on. People should get over or through terrible tragedy catastrophe devastation. Blimps Blowing up, bridges falling down, Ships sinking, and, The Unsinkable Molly Brown. All of it. Life. And it should go on.

Great Jumping George

It's one a.m. almost and I'm tired finally. I stayed up watching all my recorded TV shows. NCIS Los Angeles (2) and the Original, and Hawaii 5-0, and the CSI Vegas premiere, with Florence Henderson hair kid. Warehouse 13 finale...no more MYKA? Nnnoooo!!! Was that it? Seems like there was more. Took forever to do just that. From sun down to...1 a.m.!! Great Jumpin' George!

Mamma Told Me Not To...

SAT. 24 JULY, 2010
IN BED usually before sun goes down. UP and in the water for a swim when it's dark still. Hittin' coffee shop before clouds clear, here w/ a few of the workin' girls smokin' cigarettes outside or in the lobby, waitin' for a 'ride'.
THEN it's off to the Mart w/ K, banks and coffee and picture show, if we can manage it.
Yes, K-Mart. For Lunch Pails and Pens. Then to S&L and regular fundage house to put filthy lucre there from Savings, to take care of service work on car. And other various sundry as is told. Another stop, coffee shop. This one for coffee, iced, no room, no sweetner. This for the cup for the week, basically. For I brew my own at home & use their cup for work. Then oh when maybe I can get out of all this and join you at the picture show. Somehow it occurs to me I didn't get much sleep, and I'm doomed.
{From The Handheld}

A Load of Dark Things

Just did get up and cleared out Pool filters (From the two Leaf Traps: One on the Hose line. One right part of the Pump.), put coffee into a cup (Mexican brand Cafe GARAT), Arabica blend, of course, and Finally sat down to World Cup. See what I can do? Aren't you proud of me?
{From The Handheld}

I CAN JUST SEE SOMETHING NOW

AH, and I do so love the ease of use on this here thing now, but can certainly do without all this tiny text. Oh well. The madness continues. At least there's that. Enjoy!

Because This IS the moment...

Because this is the moment I'd rather I found out why or what I was told and did not understand than get upset about it and decimate another person's character.
I did not understand what she said. I did not understand what you said. I went back to her to ask.
No rice with this dish in the Entree's section that said rice and soup served with the dishes listed.
Use their box, and it doesn't matter how much it weighs, it'll be the same for postage on the same box of theirs regardless the weight, and will be more, if you use or reuse your own.
I'll reuse the same box that I've say sent you or that you have sent me or whatever.
That may sound like you're NOT going to use the Post Office box. That in fact, you're going to be using a box from the garage, possibly an old brown cardboard one you may have sent us, etc.
It is a pity a person gets upset when a person just simply explains this.
Yes, people don't understand all the time. Yes, just drop it. Who cares? So what? It doesn't matter. So too isn't it wonderful to see to hear to know to learn to understand? To challenge the difficult in life and have tools then when you learn, to better deal with what in life you encounter?
It is obvious at this juncture, I seem to revel in it. Sorry to try to lord it over onto you. I apologize. I am sorry. I don't care any more. I'm tired. I hate you. Oh well, too bad, get over it, whatever.
It is often unknown what motivates another to say/do what they say/do. Folks are irrational. They do whatever for whatever reason or circumstance. It either means a great deal or nothing at all. OR, it is a little of both. Who knows?
All we have is this moment, this here and now, and it is over by the time one cogitates that it is so.
------
I think the main issue, which is a thought you brought up in conversation some time before, which I thought of later last night:
(It is Thursday morning now and you are getting ready to leave.)
Is that of Dad's Anger, to which I think: OUR anger. Mom's, Yours, Mine.
It is too bad we don't have a handle on when it's coming, and a way of channeling or stopping it.
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/rats-with-wings/5108239?productTrackingContext=center_search_results

Phoenix

Sky Harbor was a blur. One piss, three shots of Crown Royal, and we're off. Too bad we won't be with the two Gals from Aspen. Oh well. At least I'm a bit more relaxed, and the 'aspect' of 'every thing' isn't so ... 'daunting'. Too bad too I can't slip off and see my Father & Step-Mother too.
http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/rats-with-wings/5108239?productTrackingContext=center_search_results

Okay But Really, Why?!

Ice in urinals at all these Lenny's type grease-pit 'restaurants'. What's the point? What's the deal?
Why, if they ask, you say, that's a good question? (Stall stall stall, the politician thinks up something to say.) Why don't people say: That's a stupid question(?). Instead, they just insult you. Doubly so.
{From The Handheld}

WORD

Today's Reading comes to us from King James Douglas Morrison: "I'm sick of these stinky boots. I'll never wake up in a good mood again". Which we interpret: I'm sick of these stinking moods. When will I wake up in a good mood?
{From The Handheld}

Cold Still

My brown and black, mesh and suede nylon Vasque trainers on my feet, well worn good foot support out. Loose top white crew socks, mysteriously still clinging to my rough, raw, cold, chapped shins. Loose fitting Levis 505's, 33/30 in pre-wash-fadedness, hanging annoyingly off my hips, but not off or below my 'negative-butt' arse, as the style of the day is. Medium fitting, Large size, Fruit-Of-The-Loom brand, Black pocket T, with a Medium, long-sleeved, fine-ribbed, black, polo shirt, over that, by Land's End. A cotton on the inner body, and fleece at the neck, insulated, dark-charcoal, zipper front, woolen sweater, by Carraigdonn, in Ireland, a brown wool ski-cap by Patagonia, from Italy or France. I'm cold this tail-end of Spring.
Delivered Via Aether Space

Insurance Girl As A Naked Baby In My Dream

And so I get my gig, my first Hollow-Wood situation, in decades, and am to appear at an undisclosed location somewhere in the bowels of Hollywood proper. It was one of those nondescript places nestled off a busy street, right next to some houses, that'd been there for years, probably longer than these "studios".
Parking right out front for me, a Producer? Well, I dunno. A simple green car with 4 doors, but without it, my nuts were gone, and I need those. Just, you know, in case.
I get on set, every thing's a mess. People clothes cables lights grip stuff every where. Folks on tour. I'm telling them it's closed. There's a fire I have to call in. I'm trying to turn on the work lights three times and a fire breaks out around a flat wall, out of my view but I can hear it and see the orange light, see some smoke. It's like I'm the stage manager, not even a producer at all, and no one cares about me or the fill in job I have to do thank-less-ly. But of course when every one walks by when it comes time to leave, they're all bragging about how they're having to have their Rolex's serviced and are going to TimeShare's in Acapulco in three weeks. Who cares?
I have ... Oh, no worries. Flash on the old days when I had to bum a ride home or something, but no. I have my car. I can drive my self ho...walking out to the curb. There's nothing there! What?! What? Where's my car? It's not there. And I go into panic mode and find the office and ask all around and am viewing shocked faces. I'm all, over-reacting for them. I get a line on the tow service. I'm yelling and screaming my story to each and every face in the bureau-crazy. Not open today at this time. Will have to call tomorrow. Such-n-such time, etc. Damn. Walking along the crowded cubicles a dog or two come out to greet me, calm me down, etc. I get with a friendly face or three, and finally it's the insurance broker lady on TV. She's naked or partially clothed. She has really odd pale skin. Hairy like I'd never noticed it before.
And she's cuddling with me and I like it. People in the office are making noises about us, as they pass by, but she doesn't care. I smile, and wake up, ready to get into my wacky-weird day. Not all populated with rude, coupon people.
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Rats With Wings

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/rats-with-wings/5108239

BUY IT NOW!
{From The Handheld}

TWO DREAMS

MON. MAR. 29th, 2010
DREAM: Emma Watson and I were dancing in a roundish room of doors, after we had been tasting a bunch of whisky. Highland Park was the last glass. It was the lightest and sweetest best taste. Our mouths were burnt and burning from others, the HP was like fresh water. Earlier I had been hiking the hills to the rocky high promontory coast. There had been some land cleared out and soil added around a few trees. One tree was on a high top area in the middle of this high end housing tract, and with my bare hands, I was patting it. I'd followed Emma on horseback, her back to camera, we as ghost flying behind, admiring the beautiful female body shape form. And I was on that hilltop, saying something, and then we were walking the hills together for a bit and then were in a room. A bar. A tasting place at a long table, trying out the whisky. Laughing. Having a grand time of it. After the last sample, really good and buzzed, we left. We were in that room. Pushed a button for the Lift apparently, and then she grabbed me and we began to dance. I followed quite easily, until I thought about it and then didn't step too well, then she stopped. THE END.
---
SOME other dream after, along the coast, car parking under water. Florida I think it was. I wanted to read this magazine article. I was having to check out its length and put a book mark in it, but the words kept going on. There were the photos and they were those moving images ones where the rain drops falling slowly on a sunny day illuminated clearly the overly sunny bright Florida coast, as the raindrops very slowly dropped, making big ripples here and there. How did those people get into and out of their cars without them flooding, much less, start them up?

{From The Handheld}

I Say, Good Bye, True Love.

Giving up writing as a career choice now certainly has freed up in me a lot of pressure from the standpoint of all the heady emotions I used to have. I'll bet now my health will improve as well, no more barrage of oddity squeaks and squirms, the hurts and fears here there that I used to endure. I'll be pain free until death do I part. Well, yeah, sure, why not?
----
People ask me about something and I plainly tell them. I don't wear much of a face on, but what ever I may have in the moment, I ride on the outside, and if I'm bored or tired or any thing, it's broadcast loud and clear, I guess. Or when I tell people something, my family way of speaking like a major authority, comes across as bossy or arrogant or I'm having to stop my day to tell you?
I guess that's what, from time to time people ask something, I tell them, then they tell me: "Okay, I didn't know. I was just asking. I've never been here before."
And I then really chafe. I say: And you asked me and it is my job to tell you and so I'm telling you.
Which isn't best under current circumstance, to be uttering. Just don't say any thing, or smile, mean it, and say; Have a nice day. Or I'm sorry. I'm really at a loss here for what I've done to hurt you. I didn't mean to. I was asked a question and I did my best to be as thorough as possible and answer your question and then some.
That, 'and then some', may not be necessary from time to time. They may only need a 'turn left at the crossroads', and nothing about the weather, or conditions of the sign; the minute descriptions of the myriad confounding little sidetracks, all along the way. They don't all need that, but pity me who's taught to be the best and is trying hard and ends up allowing them the opportunity to say something that you decide hurts you, and since you don't have anything of the sort in re - a poker face, your anger frustration screams out at the world through your visage, sorry!
One day some guy asked What are we shooting at today? You reply Same thing every day, the targets! They say the killer line "Never been here before".
Great, pissed us both off once again. I'm tired of this. I think, why are other people so emotionally super sensitive? Truth is, YOU are!
{From The Handheld}

RELAX PARTNER!

Had wanted to sit and think and write a spell. Got on this thing after yet another pee and spate of reading Lehane's Shutter Island, which I was inspired to read after seeing the film. I usually do it the other way around, esp sic after I know the film based on the book is coming out. And after a dump of some stomach wasting toxicity, and reading again. I got back here instead and began to read yet another one of these huge It's A Conspiracy of some sort emails my sister sends of someone on a typo/poor argument bound thing about Vaccinations, and how folks are getting sick from them actually. Had to stop. It was all over the place. Gave me a headache. Well, I read some more of the book after the pee as I said and after the Lehane book reading, which I at first at one point wasn't interested in picking up again, I got on email and then got back to the book, again, after peeing, long after the shit...and boy oh boy is this confusing or what? And who wants to read this any how? I can't even clearly write it, the order of events, kept straight, I think, in my head! Dammit, man. Shit!
It's 7:05, I start at 8:15, and I usually go in from the parking lot a half hour or so beforehand to make sure I'm on time. And there's plenty of time and re-reading this, it isn't so bad, but in a better frame of mind I'll be better able to sort it out. What to do?
Well, I can cull some pens, just a few, simple dealios and have that be my bag for Mexico. Not like the crazy stuffed bolsas of past visitations. I just must maintain a semblance of peace before ... before work today, and the trip then which I hope I can do without the dizzying low blood pressure relaxers for plane flight, but still be calm for the journey. Fuckers moved the cones next to me and though there are plenty of other places closer to the shuttle stop this short fat chick w/radio blaring door open blocking my exit too, just taking her time setting herself and her car up for the long park exposed to the elements of the day. What with clouds, I don't think much sun, but she's putting up her sunshades. Radio still on ... yet another apron put on. And now a sweater or two. Shit! I have a window open here on the other side of my car, but I'm so frazzled, irritated, and choking, I need to get air on her side (I'm in the front passenger seat.) so I open the window there, and still nothing of radio silencing or turning down. It's not that loud, but fuck! Close your damn door! She gets now into her car and still, ready for work she sits a spell. Putting on make up? I don't care. Just, you know, I got here because I figures no one'll park next to me. Already a car on my left. Cones and spaces for the shuttle-buses next to me on the other side. No one'll park there. Can't move those cones. Well the shuttle guy's moved bus after bus and then moved the cones!! I just can't handle people and radios and car alarms when I'm trying myself with a full bladder to sit and read and relax, to sit and read and relax!!!
{{From Unit # 9630}}

Wig City

Dig you freak out when Dylan went electric? Have a conniption with that "wild" guitar solo in the Carpenters Good-Bye To Love? Are you prone to massive seemingly erratic emotional out bursts? It's only human, you're supposed to make mistakes. Thanks Billy Joel, feel much better.
{From The Handheld}

Yeah And Aint It Surprising?

Yeah, and aint it surprising? The good news is very good and sad. I mean, here I am feeling so good at work this week and things have been good and bad and for some reason I'm not terrorizing the hell out of my self that I'm thinking when is it going to break? But isn't something terrible going to happen? Of course, and it does. Both local and afar. With people I know in hospitable and then strangers, even more just flipping out, going off, and it's very very sad. I'm older than every one else. I should be gone, but I'm not. I haven't a thing to do or say and all around are all these cool people and they're doing things in a publically acknowleged way, and are making money from it, something I desperately want, but have no inkling for and means to, and though I don't want their lives as such, I don't want to be like them do like them, I do want that acclaim or notice for what I do and say. I want it to have meaning, resonance, be of higher accord, and, to have to be able to do that alone, and NOT HAVE to do what I do now. Yeah, and aint it surprising, they make sure these people aren't listed as terrorists. They shoot their co-workers and they destroty company enemy workers and property with their airborne vehicles, and their end result is terror, yet, aint it surprising? Yeah.

Winternationals

Used to go when Ontario had a motor speedway. Riverside as well, met Dan Gurney way back when. It was all so cool. Then all the key men folk figure heroes in my life began dropping like flies, literally, right before my eyes, and I never quite recovered. And yeah I know, boo-hoo! Get over it, but didn't realize such the impact until 40 years later. Who am I? What should I be? What care to sort anything out about any of it any way? Nothing. NOTHING!
{{From Unit # 9630}}

ON THE LIST OF THINGS TO DO

Read Warren Hinckle's WHO KILLED HUNTER S. THOMPSON, if it will ever be released. It's told to this author by ed and proprietor of Last Gasp Press of SF that spring this spring will see it. Was in final 2 weeks of final editing...and that was it seems about a week or three ago now. Been pining for some HST screed, but MUTINEER, the final book of letters, is now due 2011 or so, FEBRUARY, of that year, oh well.
{{From Unit # 9630}}

The New Month

MON. FEB. 1st, 2010
Don't know precise methodology for speaking here, right now. For what should be written, who knows? Can't say as I'm of any help.
There's too much. Much too much to say, that needs relating, etc.
Life is god masturbating. Just, living life, being, experiencing, in all its myriad, seemingly sourceless permutations: animal, vegetable, mineral. In the vast array of creatures' thought, emotion, etc. That is its "essence."
Is it more important for me to control my temper, my thoughts, et cetera, than it ever will be for me to write stories and sell them? Is it more important to learn what happiness is than to get a job/career that "means" something?
Will curing me of my infantilism cure me of my creativity? Will discipline to sit and read and write without missing a day of it, make me a better person or will the reverse do a better job? How will I know either way?
A person knows only what they know. They go for that. Their instincts those voices all that chatter, from within from without, they take all that into account, and act, for good or ill, to for of by themself/others, and that is life. And if in any retrospective view is measured, some things worked some did not and there are other deals wanting. And that's just about it.
I was not in the mood to read or write or stay here this morning of a later start day, but here I am writing, and soon I'll be reading, and maybe just maybe we'll get every thing covered.
{From The Handheld}

SAGE ADVICE TO CREATIVE TYPES

Do not depend on the hope of results. When you are doing the sort of work you have taken on, essentially an apostolic work, you may have to face the fact that your work will be apparently worthless and even achieve no result at all, if not perhaps results opposite to what you expect. As you get used to this idea, you start more and more to concentrate not on the results but on the value, the rightness, the truth of the work itself. . . .
 –Thomas Merton, in a letter to Jim Forest dated February 21, 1966, reproduced in The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters by Thomas Merton (W. Shannon ed. 1993).
{From The Handheld}

Stuff

Got stuff on my synapses here that shouldn't be. 1) Care over what people around me are doing. It comes to mind that the less I care about what I think normally people should or should not be doing around me, the better I feel. Having said that, it suddenly occurs that, therein may be a key to happiness. I just don't care. That perennial apathy. Key on a chain around my neck. One or more of them. Plugs, dragging the ear lobes of some jolly passing travelers, so what? And if you can translate that or carry it onward to the other drivers on the road or co-workers and their mess, etc. Shoot! Success City Arizona!! Sociopathy here I come, eh? Just where is that substance (some kind of neuro-nutralizer) that supposedly these suicide bombers take, the don't care don't feel pain stuff (But why then would they even care to complete their missions? How does that work??), that magic "happy pill", to take me to that faery land, a rabbit hole, across the river with Lenny in Of Mice and Men, all soft and cuddily, ahhh, yeeeesss!
{{From Unit # 9630}}

There Has Got To Be...

TUE. JAN. 19th, 2010
DEATH be not proud. Please, do not let me go messy. Don't make me stupid, lame, and dumb. Let me not be forgotten, as we all are and all will be. Much like death, denied or life, lived in oblivion of. Think of me once in awhile dear world, yes, self-same I cursed and yelled to take me out occasionally. A flair for the dramatics, which truly wasn't or isn't necessary; I am not a writer or actor of any repute. I am nothing of course. Don't exist any more, so why should I care? Once said this morning on a whim, when I'm dead, an angel, of evil or good intent, I'm sure somehow (I don't know how I'll know.), I'll miss this, being alive. Now, ultimately, nothing matters. That's what lesson is available from thinking and growing rich. The book. Pretty bleak. If you ask me. Stupid too. Lame. Dumb. "There has got to be a better way". Thanks to screenwriter of Bill Mckay (The Candidate), Waldo Salt? ((JEREMY LARNER actually. He also wrote: "Drive, He Said."))

{From The Handheld}

What I Really Want

SUN. JAN. 17th, 2010
Don't know how or why it was to me my way of thinking a bad idea to take a shower this morning. Feel so good. Cue Chuck
Mangione muzak. Maybe we should just pee now and meditate. Ah yes. But really, trouble is, don't want to do any thing, not even drive away from here. Certainly don't want work at same place where we've been all this time. Don't know what I want. Don't know as I could have slept in much longer than I had. Don't know that I was or am any more glad happy satisfied for any thing that I have. I am so grateful thankful indebted etc esp sic my mother for protecting taking care of me. My sister my dad as well. I'm overwhelmed by grief and hope and worthlessness. Don't know exactly what to say or do. Maybe I can write about it, put it into a story that appears out of me soon, much like the shopping mall story where the man's head went down with a ker-klunk, the screenplay and short work of prose out of it that is Rats With Wings.
What's on my list? Gaa, I dunno. I've done it, but haven't made a full time career of writing, the arts, the movies. I've been in and have worked on many. Yeah. I have. And so...but nothing long term and or making profit creating nest egg, etc.
----
What I want to do where I want to go involves flushing toilets cleaned by me on a regular basis but not under duress. Pockets full of nice shiney clean expertly working new then because they're taken care of, old things, but are still rich cool expensive good but never boastful or bragging about. Clean well lighted places, yes, Hem. For books or living. And I want to be in and feel to be a part of.
Would love to learn how to survive in the wild, but wouldn't want to have to now or forever have to be roughing it in a real way, forever. Sorry Sam (uel Langhorne Clemons).
Don't...I don't want to say I do not any more. I want to be able to say, I have an ISBN or 8, and glow in the dark legible watches. Eyes that don't bother me. A girl that doesn't either, but HELPS, in a good way. (WAYS) I want things I have to do, doing done. No grief angst misery protracted nonsense from elements of society weather universe. Or the cast iron stainless poly-carbonate diamond whatever constitution to endure, the faith of a Brazil Nut in sitting meditating with my vision to get it done, forever.
{{From Unit # 9630}}

I STILL DON'T GET IT

All my life I've searched for something I cannot name. I really don't know what it is. I really mean that, if you know, you know something when and where you find it, you know what it is, then, before that, it's just something you can't name and you spend all your life searching, searching, searching for it...
Now, all along the way, by and by it comes to being that you find it...all these little things that amongst the big or bigger photographic still-frame in your mind, you find, and you go: A-HA! It's a satori, a pop blast between the eyebrows (iffen you don't have a mono-brow) and it's IN to your third eye itself.
Here and there you have your little get its.
But over all, to keep you going, you don't get what you want, get it? You don't because that's what keeps you going, all along the way, and you say to yourself, all along the way or all my life I've been searching for something I cannot or my heart cannot name...and, yeah that quote is attributed to Francois Villon or some one some times, and is paraphrased here, from the book by Hunter S. Thompson, Hell's Angels, that is really, I feel, something he wrote himself.

THINK! Or, Consider Yourself One With The Furniture

****************************
MON. JAN. 11th, 2010
USED to be a time way back when, we sat in a car that was paid for with one hefty check to a friend, and write. Would get out a small or large notebook, writing paper, goldenrod lined college rule, plain some times and laterally, grid, small, but not so small, at least not so much and not so very often that, usually just average sized grid. Long gone are those days? Wrote some letters then, some of these writings'd be. Now? A few snippet wings on the fly, the idealized long ago postings of a madman, which every one is doing now in so too many venues and media, who wants to pay for that? How can one make/earn a living there? That part of the dream has remained ever elusive. Always the aspect of a regular job. Some have been more fun, most short lived, like my stays in places with others. What to do? What to do?
It's a privilege, life is. A privilege, much like a job or driver's license. You have no right for being here or having the support "system" to sustain you. It's all just a privilege.
The only way not to be a burden is not being here. But what good is that? No one knows or doesn't know. (No one can tell us, or so we consider.) There's no telling, no, not really. It's frustrating. Best ignore and get on with daily grind. Breathe, move on, and not consider so much.
So far as we know, we are the only ones who do consider, who know or think we do. It's important, we notify ourselves and others, to think, consider, and to be aware of these things, that we do.

{From The Handheld}

If A Lover Meets A Lover, When Coming Through The Rye...

Well, IF a lot of crackn' damn things, you know? That just doesn't happen in real actuality. Not in your or my every day life. NO. That NEVER happens. Why? Because it's a wish a dream of a possibility that, maybe perhaps could occur, but WON'T really. NO. It only really ONLY happens in SONGS, POEMS, BOOKS, and Motion Pictures. I mean, we still don't have our Belt Jets yet, do we? There's these films we watch and they're always unsatisfying. You want to be famous or have to give up your day job because you have to do your actual work of writing novels creating screenplays poetry authoring, etc. But, NO. That NEVER happens. This is real life, and that's where normal every day crap over and over occurs, and you're rotten and miserable inside and happy other moments and it is all, more or less, completely OUT OF YOUR CONTROL. Enjoy! Be happy with that, eh?

Power's Elusive Contact

Started out writing something else and remembered another thing began my thoughts with earlier. But what good would it do me now but to stay on target? But, what's that? Isn't over-all to record the moment as it happens?
I trade in/to ... And the thought was Tend to? No, Trade to, because it's more interesting to say. It feels better/different, and it catches the reader in the rye.
But, it; all these things that came up just now, is & was, all I had back then, when I came to this email to write on it for a blog on this here blogger website. I came to this post, to write something else completely. As the title suggests, about power.
Just read how in the comic: Dominion, by Shirow Masamune, that "Power is just power, you only need it when you need it," or something like that. Never mind the context of the book, it's not important for the illumination of my point. The point is that I just posted a tweet which read something like, if power is power etc when, etc, then why is it so elusive? Why does it slip my grasp? I need to fix and sort stuff NOW! Can't wait. Pool. Job. Finances. Writing. Sex/Love-Life. Every thing. All of it. NOW. Can't get into all the details now, no time. Have to head into work. And the phone rings here, asking me in to it earlier! Thought this was the earliest shift for today. Can't make the 45 min earlier start request, but can do a 15 min earlier start, which gives me more time to get in, get ready, and, do it, right, more comfortably and more power--control--contact, with every thing.
{{From Unit # 9630}}

Bosons Muons

Ah yes, Bosons, Muons, and why I will never be a Theoretical Physicist: I'd want to be a "real" one.
{{From unit # 9630}}

I'd Like To...

Like to take a moment here and thank all my readers over the years. All of their cards and letters have been such an inspiration. Here this early morning, it is dark and cool. It should have rained yesterday but might today instead. Or, it rained somewhere else yesterday and we won't have to worry about any thing like that today or at any other time soon. Just like to say thanks and looking forward to the new year. Hope to have some days with y'all to share what's going on with you then. Be good. Be safe. Keep in tune.
{From the Handheld}

PROUD

I'm proud of what I do. I'm grateful to work where I work.
{{From unit # 9630}}

THURSDAY

Thursday, I can't say I don't care about you but I really am tired and though you are my Friday, my week's end, and even I can't seem to sustain the illusion I am certainly more than the sum of my parts, which are just a guy who works the rides, I must say, I'm never going to give it up. You'll have to jerk me out, kicking and screaming. You'll have to over-power/force me out. I hope I'll never go willingly. I want forever to be known as the best writer of my kind, though I may never be able to have, in my lifetime, that moniker as my actual title thing, only source of income, never be able to have that as my only job, have it plentiful in payoff, and satisfy my soul. (I'll have of course the travel to Asia and promote Whisky, Clothing, Paper and Writing instruments on the side to supplement my income of course. That goes without saying, and is beyond reproach, what I, as a man, must do.) Yes, Thursday, you, like any one, thing, place, all are fodder, grist, muse for my mill! I love you, by and large. Thank You.
{From the Handheld}

Spicy Chocolate Coffee

Take a large piece of your favorite chocolate to fit and slip into a large mug of Pike Place coffee, but before pouring, get a generous heap of some powdered Pico de Gallo, or some like "spice," and cover the chocolate piece at the bottom of the mug, then pour it on, your pipin' hot coffee o' the day, and stir till the chocolate has disappeared. Sit back with friends or in solidad, and enjoy this gift from the Mayans.
{From the Handheld}

I Am In Pain

Both mental and physical I am in pain. Not like a lot of people, mine is simple and mundane. Most people to hear it would shrug, toss it off and say if any thing at all, what's the big deal? Join the club. My point is I don't want to. This is not for me. Not that it can't happen or denial: this is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening (As tempting as this is, I've tried it!).
It hurts! I am in pain and there's nothing to do but ride it out. I could spend money on doctors, face horror of horrors in embarrassing situations, but I'd rather not. I'd rather not. So publicly I share it. Spock (TV character on Star Trek, TOS) once told actress Jill Ireland (I forget her name in this episode with "The Spores".) "We all live in our own self-made hell's. Mine can be no worse than any other." I'd like to think it was a line written my that master of the tale then: D.C. Fontana, she was a genius!
{From the Handheld}

This Boy's Spanish is Pretty Good

Well now I would not say that, but certainly I'd like to give it a go. Learn some rules, languages, jump in and swim.
We're here amongst agave and other sundry huddled against Mexico's mountain range known as the Sierra Madre. Northwest of Mexico City. And just a 3 hour drive to Puerto Vallarta, about 5 thousand, 2 hundred feet above sea level.
Been here 5 days already. Today is the first day I've worn shorts. It's been too cool for me and we've been under the weather since before coming. I'm okay though. Getting by, getting by.
Not doing much. Don't want to. Can't afford it any way. No Spanish (Castilian or other) fluency, and tons of general fear of being incapable of negotiating buses; routes, maps, timetables; my own sense or body needs...ah who knows, you know? Best deal here now and all is to sit read write and chillax, right? Right.
I'm writing on this thing and am doing so like a duck takes to water. What could be mas bueno?
Ya tu sabe. Salud Amigos.
from the handheld

If I Can Just...

Maintain, maintain, maintain! Take an energy pill, eh? What in the hell tore up your tummy besides Salsa, Corn chips, and Beer of unknown Vintage and brew properties, that was your snack and bebidas on the plane from LAX to GDL this morning/last night. Well, next Friday's Eight A.M. Departure will be ... What? Besides only a skosh of nervousness/fear did it for us back then aboard the all gray leather seats throughout Smilin' Eskimo's fuselage...it was an easy trip down here. Flew on by. I was just surmising (if that's correct) I should have more stamina now...and I do, but golly, FEAR too, STILL! And gosh darn it all, now the fuzzy feeling of falling every now and again. Guess it's from lack of sleep. Hope I can really sleep-in, tomorrow. Willing ready and able to give it a try. Last I was here I had a Carbuncle the size of a golfball on my neck. Travelled here in May in all times past. Every thing's brown then. Verdant now. Odd. Bellissima now too and unknown to me. But I like it. P.S. Surprise I saved for myself is was waiting till on the plane for headset work. Poo! Didn't work. Oh well. There's Wal+Mart in town. Must have workin' earpieces there if not at some other local place.
from the handheld

Left Ear Clicks As Does Right

My right ear has been clicking clear of late. Ringing is most always around. Tonight my left ear is plugged; not very fun. At least we've no dizzyness.
Called Dad. Bad connection. Horrible buzz. Barely heard Dad. But Dad heard me. Told him I'd get on the computer and use Skype. After one two three tries, it worked. Found out it's hot there and cool at night. Green and rainy season is over. Oh well. Maybe it'll stay green for my stay. Wish me luck.
I've bought a bunch of crap but useful stuff, from Walgreen's tonight, after getting that Instant Coffee they have for sample free this weekend from Starbucks. November Vanity Fair and lighter fluid, cotton balls, sun-block, toothpaste, hand-cleaner, cool new gloves for pool pole work and ah, the junk in the pool this afternoon as a direct result of the wind. So much to do with the house...and what the crap all else here. Got cotton balls from the grocery store before where I got bananas and meat from the Deli counter. Not Walgreen's like I said. The meat (Turkey-Jenny-O.) A buck less from the usual per lb I get and have gotten for years, but so big the slices...will just have to use only a couple of pieces and flop them over on the bread. Time for bed. Enough for now. Wish me luck. Late start tomorrow and then early start the day after, FUN!
from the handheld

Where We Weren't Yesterday

We're here in Little Tokyo getting massages just down the street from where Venkman's used to be. That place of ol' Los Angeles where only Piute Indians dined. No, that's not so. It was near the Coca-Cola bottling plant, that looked like some ginormous Deco steamship.
From unit # 9630

Motivation

Motivation, and how to get it. How to utilize this handy tool (instead of handling your own all the time till you've got scabs or at least until you need glasses), to get even more.
This will be the subject of our discussion over the next several seconds; minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years, to come.
Remind me about it from time to time. I'll get back to you. I have to step out just now. There's an urgent matter elsewhere, which I have to attend to right away...
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

Farcical Aquatic Twit

How about this then: The true story, autobiographical telling of the ultimate loser. A loner who has no purpose or function in life. But get this, it has a happy ending and it's not done in suicide.
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

Dizzynesses

Have half a mind to go hiking in the woods right now, but of course as I write this (if one can call this hunt and peck w/thumbs writing) one needs to sit on a rock outcropping and log. Perhaps one day will come when I can do just that, maybe that will cure it.
Snot flows down back of throat, ears clear, and ringing isn't so bad, but when I walk today, the disequalibrium is pronounced to feel like the water level in the glass going back and forth, just so. Precisely. Like a film show. Back and forth.
It's a combination of many things perhaps. Stiff neck due to sleep/snoring. Sinuses...problems there. Snoring. Stiff neck muscles/blood flow or lack thereof. Allergies. And they all revert one to the other.
6 of 750 mg NAC (n- acetyl cysteine) in the morning and once again at night. Supposed to help clear out sinuses. I am my own doctor in/on this. Practising on me, on my own.
There was time yesterday that I was out of the woods, into the light. Over it. But every time I noticed it wasn't, it was once again, just a little bit, ever so slightly. What is up with this malady?
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

Strange Weekend

Over now, my MOST expensive one in quite a while. Don't know HOW I'm going to pay for it all. Don't know quite how all these women I visited reconcile their "day's" without some odd/bizarre ablutions. Just don't see it.
How it is I so wish I could write to you openly and honestly and not bore you to tears.
I want to tell you how poor and stupid I am and how out of control as well. And how simple it'd be if I could just get my self going where it needs, where it really SHOULD be going, it'd be so much easier, no?
I just want to be able to get going with some money and creativity and get done, some of the basics of love, and sex, and work/job/whatever, to be able to afford it all.
How difficult does it have to be? Life can't be all LAME, can it?
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

READING

Been bitchy about bitching about not reading so much of late. And finally I am capable of professing here loud and clear that I have in fact plowed or systematically been through some books.
Enjoyed What If Our World Was Their Heaven, Interviews with Philip Kindred Dick. Countless Manga and Manwha titles. Finally completed St. Leon, by William Godwin, the book that launched others. Notably, Frankenstein, by Godwin's daughter, Mary Shelly. And I'm about to finish Ancient Gonzo Wisdom, Interviews with Hunter S. Thompson. His last "book" Mutineer, will be out in late October, but if we're lucky, it will be early, and I'll be able to carry it with me to Mexico for my trip. But I'd really rather have finished The Plumed Serpent, by D.H.Lawrence. Bought and started that one prior to several trips to Mexico, several years ago it seems to me. There are plenty more where that came from and not, which I'm determined to finish before I die a horrible death of natural causes. I HAVE to finish!
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

Fw: A Few Quick Notes: From This Week

Subject: A Few Quick Notes: From This Week





AUG. 23:

Are you still around? Ever thinking of California? It's "different" out here now. Folks are dead, grown up, or married w/children.

----------

Mom's gone now. Probably well into sleep in her stateroom by now. Hope so. Met her this morning at 2.30, and I had been in bed for a few hours. She had not.

---------

AUG. 27, THUR.

My Friday



It was a great week for us by and by. We'll see if I can handle a bit of "self imposed" style dehydration, as opposed to the just being at work and what's wrong with me re: "dizzyness".

I think it's the weather change/allergy bit what really does this "dis-equalibrium" thing inside, and I believe water exercise and LOTS of NAC will do the trick to rid my body of this irritating nonsense.

Delivered via 9630 Niagra

Transformer...in 2016? I MUST GO TO JAPAN!!

What Do I Want To Do Now?

WHAT DO I WANT TO WRITE NOW?
That I am insane and I owe my mother much more than my life right now and that I should either be locked up or tortured or killed quietly on the side, very quickly and painlessly right now for being such a pain in the ass dickhead of a son all these 17 plus years? Yes, but so what? I'm here and it really should stand for something that here we are and there HAS to be SOMETHING for me to do besides blow up in anger every whatever it is, have painful, crippling sciatica every whenever, and labyrinthitis or whatever this nauseating dizzyspell-nesses every whenever as well. Happy Ramadan every one!
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

What Is & What Should Be

Okay, so we know that they'll soon be selling us these mp3 micro data cards w/music loaded soon, but what's next? We've got to get in on that in order to make any real "dent" in life.
Delivered via 9630 Niagra

THE REASON WE'RE HERE

Contrary to what Kurt & Chrissie have told you, the real reason we're here, is to sit, read, and meditate...and write occasionally, but not necessarily to publish, and for sure NEVER play music while you read. That's for public transportation over your ear buds.

That There Will Be A New Post

Come the New Sun, there will be a new post, preferably on the morrow, with the mobile unit. The "fact" remains to be seen. As always. As it always will. Buena Suerte.
--William.

The Mood Is Right

I can write here while micturating. Ol' "Ernst" would be proud. One hand thumb typing while standing...one true sentence back there, a bit slow, but accurate as hell w/out too many tries. I say as I screw up some again. Tired but not enough to get off this thing.
The deal is to write or to read with this thing and so far it's just been Facebook commentaries, a few text messages, and some emails. I mean I've put on some voice notes and some text, and have taken some cool photos, but haven't gotten writing software going.
Sent my short and quickly expiring July Journal here, and it exists in an email to Nick, but I cannot as of yet get my nut around this Niagra machina to cough up some writing fun! Slightly numbing. I just attempted a "media" load on/through my PC via this here "mobile", but nothing doing!!!!!!
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Monday Monday

I can't say as how much I appreciate what and how much I have. I may be the most lucky person in the world.
I can swim alone in the morning while it's dark, without having to wait. I can then shave right after without waiting.
Then I go to work in my own car I am paying for myself.
In a word, it's perfect. I feel real spoiled. What am I doing or have I done to deserve such a wonderful life?
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Journal Entry For The Day...Thus Far

SATURDAY, JULY 18th, 2009
FROM GARETH POWELL, SCI-FI AUTHOR, WHOM I FOUND THROUGH WARREN ELLIS:
1. You must write.
2. You must finish what you write.
3. You must refrain from rewriting, except to editorial order.
4. You must put the work on the market.
5. You must keep the work on the market until it is sold.
These are from Robert A. Heinlein, his “rules for writing speculative fiction,”
written in 1947. Still hold true for today I think. Powell agrees with all of them except for #3. But, I just don’t think he read it properly…but he (Powell) said on his blog that his earlier drafts are a bit rough, and need some re-writes. Every one’s does…and I think what Heinlein meant was that, it’s too easily ruined, every piece of writing if the writer has a critical eye of any kind, to destroy a work through too much go through.
----------------------------------------------
I have my smart phone now. It was a harrowing day getting it. We’re going to go to maybe one or three stores and just went to one and just getting the bit down to go to a place to eat first was a pain in the arse. Then, in the store, I’m asked a question by my mother and she doesn’t like or doesn’t get my answer and then makes this: “That’s what I wanted to know,” comment when finally I spoke the words and way she needed to hear what she was asking, and I just went off. Cussing and criticizing how arrogant she comes across as, and how I do too…that I hate her doing it and I hate me doing it…and she was trying to get me to calm down and I just sat down and cooled off. Didn’t do any breathing exercises or any thing…just, I cooled off. Glad. Grateful.
The day was fine, I’d decided to get my self a phone. I heard her talk and was told that we’d try to get a two for one…and later I told her that, I’d do it, I thought, but only if she would NOT ask me to help her with her phone, because I would have to go through the shit and I’m NOT going to do that; getting mad at her, her not listening to me, etc. For get it.
Yoga, I was late for because the deal came about that the pass was for 7 days, not 7 sessions, like I’d planned, or thought…and they let me go but I was late, and for the second time in a row and it derailed me. I hated it. I couldn’t concentrate…people kept coming into the class late and it was an annoying thing. I can’t. I can’t. I kept saying about all these simple poses…and just…I had to get up and leave and it was awful.
On the way home I saw a cat that had had it’s right rear paw or leg freshly fucked up, in traffic, and facing east and crying like mad. Fuck this shit! I almost drove to a massage place but figured I need my money, I might just plop down cash for this thing…the “rebate” is a mail in. Fuckers! There was 2 amounts of $50.00 off of the purchase, and it came in at (Because they charged tax on the full phone price: the fuckers!) $219.99, and there will be a $70.00 "very-zone-e" Debit Card, with that amount on it coming from, who knows where. The rebate had me mail two items with specificity to an errant P.O. Box in El Paso, TX. But I bet I get the card/rebate, from New York or Florida or Maine for some dumb-arse reason.
YES, I mailed the original receipt plus the cut off cardboard serial number etc card on the side of my box, destroying the fucker for good (in order to return the thing, 30 days, whatever, you have to have the original packaging, etc.), so, it’s my phone for sure now, eh? Like it or don’t!
But, I do. I think there’s a duplicate with the email. As far as, I get my mail already on it, and can get and did load hotmail.com but well, what do I need the thing twice for? I’ll check on it. I have my gmail account, which I never use and my excite account, I’ve not had success loading. I loaded up Opera Mini…but it won’t allow me to type a lower case letter for the first letter of the email/password entry to get into Facebook! How lame is that? Because, my email and password are NOT capitalized on the first word, or any, and so that sucks. But, whatever. I’ve set my alarm. I’ve got a couple of photos taken.
I can’t send mms. Which is a photo with the text message over the phone, but can go through the motions as if I could, which means I can take a photo and get a photo and track ball through the menu to send it, but, maybe it’s just that the recipient (my sister) doesn’t have that capability. I’ll try it with Bim Budless. He has the storm, and it might at least work that way.

IF TRUE...

If true, the legend, that, oh, back in 74' the last it was that there was a game 7 in the Stanley Cup Playoff...and, I think: 71 that, the Visitors "WON", well, I hope that, in this year, on this day, it can happen. It would make me and a lot of other Hockey Fans HAPPY!!!

OKAY, PENGUINS WON GAME 4

So what? I love the Penguins, you know? But so what? If they don't WIN game 5 on Saturday, they are DOOOOOOOOOOMED!!!

RATS WITH WINGS

Is supposedly available via:

http://www.lulu.com/author/wizard/index.php

And I guess you'll have to select and copy and paste that in your browser, because it's not friendly here. Sorry about that chief. Oh well. Please buy my book. I have had a major connipition getting the damn thing together. It wouldn't put on my photo and it just selected it and sat there and then my damn computer would not shut down the windows or close programs fast enough for me....I blew the fuck up. Real pissed. I'm head-achy. 9.56 P.M. Pacific, and I'm still hot in the head. The SOJU didn't help. I was getting all head-achy just putting the file in order...real pain in the ass. Gat-dammit! My head is yelling at me. I hurt like a man in terminal cancer stages or some thing...I need some rice milk and magnesium and slumber. OUCH. Gat-dammit!!! FUCK! BUY MY BOOK NOW BEFORE I'M DEAD!!





http://www.lulu.com/browse/search.php?search_forum=-1&search_cat=2&show_results=topics&return_chars=200&search_keywords=&keys=&header_search=true&sitesearch=lulu.com&q=&fSearch=Rats+With+WIngs&fSearchFamily=0



This is the link. I apologize if you have to copy cut and paste, but, it IS worth it. Do it now. Order. I have.

Thanks. Lots of love, William McKenzie Neal.


---William.

SOON

Soon you'll have to go to LULU.COM and buy my book. It's a novella called RATS WITH WINGS. Hope is all the ugly stuff will be sorted out right quick, just as fast as I can get all the text arranged like I prefer...once loaded, who knows? I've never done this before, but I do want my work out there and certainly no one I know is going to do it for me, so, you know, I have to do every thing all by my self. KINDLE here I come. Watch out. Find out. Look for me. BUY ME BUY ME BUY ME BUY ME!!!!!!!!!!

Add Photo. Test See. Where's That Writerly Photo?

OKAY, here's this, a photo, right? From Acapulco, MX., this past October...at week's end, I'll have to put in vacation time for the next holiday. Was going to go for 2 weeks in October, but really, I prefer one then and another in January, and this is the time to do it. I would like to take a solo (rail travel) trip for Vegas, (The Nevada one, not New Mexico, not that there's any thing wrong with it.), just in order that I may hang out for a while, get my bearings...might work, could bring others, doubt it'll happen, (the others bit), but you never know!

MY FIRST FULL OFFICIAL DAY

Have had SO much food and liquid today. I feel bloated, full, and yet, somewhat empty. Simply put, it's a knowledge here that all this is just temporary and it will be replaced with the stagnant sameness that was once before...after of course what could be terrible or just all right or okay on the way back, a couple of aeroplane trips. One from PIT to IAH and one from IAH to SNA.
Went onto the Strip today, had a pastry that had spinach and goat cheese but before that it was a cheese omelette, potatoes and rye toast and coffee over ice. I also had a pastry with cinnamon/powdered sugar, and some kind of cream inside it. Started the day off with one glass of water, 2 glasses of grapefruit juice (Florida's Natural Ruby Red Grapefruit Juice of course.), a Gala apple and a banana.
Then we took off to Mt. Lebanon (LEB-en-nen), for a bit of some ATM action for one member in our group, and some health food store shopping as well. Picked up Vitamin E (dry e, with lecithin and selenium) and some NAC. I'd run out at home...and so, there we go. But, going to the strip, it was incredible. I could have walked away with 2 shirts. A distressed silkscreen iron on a black shirt to express my support for the PENS (Pittsburgh Penguins Hockey Team), and or a RED POLO shirt, in English with POLISH: Polska, and the country's flag/bird icon thing on it. I didn't. Don't know exactly why and really, it doesn't matter, but somehow it seems we cannot some how rid it from the synapse. Perhaps tomorrow when we visit (for the second time) PNC park, to watch the Pirates play, I'll be able to find a vendor on the street selling some less than 20.00 t-shirt with Penguins on it...hope is with the proper coloring. I saw another one, a gray one but it didn't come in my size. Oh well.
There was a great steak burger or something I don't know later on, after going to a place in the Strip area that served Red Seal Ale and a Rye Pale Ale I really enjoyed...also tried Anderson Valley's Summer Solstice or something like that as well. Very good. The burger and that simply sinful cinnamon pastry thing I went for later...we put in 5 dollars on the Preakness and I lost four. Won only a dollar. My horse came in third. Not bad. Just a simple bet/pool/thing here at home, South Hills area of Western Pennsylvania.
AH--To tomorrow...I guess.

The Time It Requires

"By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll be rising..." --Jimmy Webb
It occurred to me the other day when I was in Mexico City, MX., at the "International Airport", that we have here a great opportunity to relax and count one's blessings.
I mean, because not only are we not "sick", but we've just come off a 2 week "sickness", and we didn't know exactly "what" in the world it was. I mean I found it odd personally that someone died right next to the President of the United States when he visited a archeological "dig" in Mexico City and then all of a sudden all hell broke loose with this "pig" virus. People were "sick" all over the place prior to that and it was just "uncanny". Leave alone pot smokers with their "paranoia" or speed takers with "theirs", you know? Just, you know, strange, to say the least. Any way, we'll be on the road soon and hope is we'll be able to test drive this Eee PC 1000 HEB "notebook" I'll call it, on the road...get on line, post blogs, twitter, email, etc. Who knows, it might even catch my home world rss feeds. We'll see. That's all for now.

What To Do. Technology STILL screwing YOU!?

This is really frustrating...I clicked on and saved or copied a link or page or image and when I came to this page, it didn't PASTE, because it wasn't THERE!!!


snks_skyscraper.jpg 120×600)


It won't work, perhaps it'll work.

TIME FOR A NEW POST

And it would appear that we are here and that there is a film screening next THURSDAY, THE 19th of March at the Westside Pavilion at 7.5 (P.M.) of the film entitled: ADVENTURELAND, which is custom assembled for people who work THEME parks. It stars: (Intentionally Left Blank) and (Intentionally Left Blank) and (Intentionally Left Blank) . So, you shouldn't miss it! But seriously folks, what limited release or whatever could this independent feature secure? Who's going to watch it but the 12 or 20 thousand 14 year olds who love cotton candy and churros? We'll see. We'll have to see. I hope it works out. Wonder who wrote it and if they in fact actually ever worked an amusement park...

TEST TEST TEST

So, you go to technorati, you want it being the ping place for when you update this blog...and, is it? Well, is it? You have no idea...the instructions are fully there. I don't know if I've done this correctly. I want to ping the multiverse whenever I've added to any one of my 3 blogs. Who wouldn't, you know? And TWITTER too...since friends absolutely do NOT want my adding them to my Twitter. They don't want to know all there is to know about me and I don't want to keep tabs on them either I don't expect. But, you never know, it could be useful some times. I just want one of those smart phones with everything and be happy with it...being in that able to afford it, etc. Just like most it seems every one around me, all along the way.

"I've had twree dallahs, I've had twree million dallahs, day-er boff duh same."

And so now there's this: We just sit and wait and watch things happen, right? What the heck? I have to do something...I'm ever so tired of that...really. I'm sick and tired of that...and not doing the simple daily life attributes...but I am doing that...I'm getting stuff done...but like I want? Not always but not always flaking either...and so what? What schedule program whatever is there and do we have to do things by any way? Isn't that stuff over rated any way? I certainly think so. Just as full of it as any thing else. The stuff of accumulate. Work hard. Get do family ugh ugh is just as full of it and stupid as not doing any thing. They're both the same. I think Donald DeSimone was correct: "Life Aint Nothin' But A Wastepaper Basket."

play music to get you through the night

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14th, 2009
FOR THE BENEFIT of Mr. Kite and every one else out in the land of no lovers and absolutely no sex unless it’s done on your own, I have this message: Fuck You Hallmark! That and Mother’s day in May and Lucky Charms day next month and Snakes on a Planet not our own day next year, all of it. Fuck You.
Do your laundry. Get on line and search repository things because no one will be on line and bandwidth will be easily spread. There will be simple down load ease, because who could be on line? Every one will be texting, that’s done on the phone, right? Simple email to loved ones…ah, fuck, hang the sense of it, but don’t hang yourself in your own closet in Claremont, California. Where the hell was your wife all this time Foster? Dammit! What the hell? Tristan, fuck your parents for calling you that! Egolf…what did you find there in Oxford, Mississippi that didn’t save you? The fact your girlfriend was the reason you hooked up for a literary life? And Thompson, your gal pal was leaving? You old man you, how long had you been around? 67 years! That’s a long time. You had to have figured something out without love, eh? No one can make it, eh? No one? Damn, that sucks. That really sucks.
Yeah, it’s winter and it bites, even here in happy-go-lucky Shell City, California, where I live. It’s COLD. 40 degrees. Must feed the cat. Must get out and get it done. Must get moving and have at it with my laundry and like that. Damn, what nuisance. What’s going to shave me? (A play on that, Midnight Oil song: Who’s Going To Save Me(?) or whatever song title Blue Skies, it may be. Too many songs with that title. I think of the blues tune. Blue Skies, smiling at me.) Peter Garrett, you giant, bald-headed, freak! Not enough going to save your homeland…it burned. And what’s with the planes of late? All fall down. Ashes To Ashes, All Fall Down.
Picture this Deadheads: Ashes To Ashes: All Fall Down, and the TWO towers fall. No love there. What a long strange trip it’s been. But, at least I’m enjoying the ride(?) We will survive, we will get by. Keep Going! Keep Going!!!

STUPID MISCREANTS

You stuuuuuuupid miscreants! Selling my likeness on to TMZ (Behavior Police 2009 or The One and Only Way To Get Back at all the Uppity Celebrities channel), without my consent, and they of course get it sold to Today shows and the original seller thinks he/she's going to get a mint, but doesn't...not only do they get hosed that way, they lose their Movie Set Sound Recorder gigs because they did a boo-boo themselves: cut their own throat via trying to show up some leading film figure type...HA-HA! You violate your gig's "trust" by spilling industry secrets. Now you'll be blacklisted out of jobs. Oh well. Too bad. You too were better off by just getting gigs where and when you could and shutting your stupid fricken mouth...and possibly erasing the daily grind at day's end.
And you must know, you've gone one toke over the line, sweet hey-zeus!! The money lost from the deals of films and endorsements which would have been taxed? Which we could have used to help build the economy? Well, that's no longer here now, is it? NO! IDIOTS!! Now you'll waste/spend more tax money on crap like investigating bong hits. Brilliant. You stupid miscreants.
Where and when did "What happened?" replace: "What's Going On?" I want to know! Where and When did TMZ get the "prestigious" role of behavior police? It's unconscionable how the sold SND footage was laughed at...the "behavior" of the man in the rant, at the purely idiotic Director Of Photography (Who though we know in big shoots doesn't much look through the camera her/himself when the shoot is "rolling"...has to know NOT to go in front of said camera then, I mean, COME ON!!! What a NIMROD!!!) is in dire need of help...it doesn't aid anyone, one iota laughing at a Stutterer When She Stutters By pulling her top off or panties down then laughing at her when she flubs up her lines. No. Stop it already. Who put you people in charge of all this? What gives you all the right to steal someone's likeness when having a harmless little smoke or venting of some righteous volcanic fury when absolutely no one should suffer fools? WHO? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?
I mean when I was a kid, they used to play that Who song as well as others, on the radio, unedited...but then TIPPER WHORE (I mean GORE) came along with her PMRG thing and got labels of you're too stupid to be able to think for yourself on things. The songs forever artistically ruined by edits. And all this crap had to be defended by Frank Zappa of all people, king of the juvenile lyric...he had to waste his time against these "dumb-o-crats" acting like some hard-core "re-pugnicans". Remember all that? Way back when? That wasn't all that long ago...big bill and his cigar is just a cigar...Dammit. Stuuuupid Miscreants!!!

Frustrated Minions

To The Frustrated Minions Of Millions: We are all consumers of some sort of another. Energy, Art, Commerce...and there is our detritus, our trail come behind after we've left our "experience". We are in this closed, locked, "system", and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. Most of us will chew and chew and chew. Some will say, to hell with it, and escape. Some will. Some will literally leave, at the expense of...?...and "go" by their own hand(s). Others just plod on mercilessly, hitting heads against the impermeable, inpenetratable solid substance of life. And then with luck the pain is gone because we die. At least we think over here, in this "place" that, all pain or whatnot as we have "here", is gone...we don't know, and we won't until we too make that "journey", travel, along that "path"; passing on as it were. No one knows for sure what's what, and never let any one tell you different. As far as it goes now, nothing and no one can know for sure: 1. What's what. 2. What's "next".

The Story So Far

So, we love AMANDA PALMER. We're delirously happy for HUSSEIN OBAMA. We're struck by how awesome the Samsung OMNIA works/looks\and seems. We say "appears" because we know there are other attributes and even "down sides" to this latest clever communication/personal organization device, that haven't been brought to the fore by the independent reviewers and even the Samsung/Verizon advertising, promoting-PUSHING-interactive sites.(And you think they would let us know all they can. They have a device. It's clam dever. They want to make money. Why do they hold back?)
THERE ARE BOOKS to be had...and February seems to be the month...it holds terror and pleasure. Sadness in that it is the month which hides deep the sorrow and pain of those who have passed on and reminds us virulently that winter is biting down hard and is a bit reluctant for spring to take over. Book releases. International Pen Show in Los Angeles (actually in Manhattan Beach). Books on Hunter Thompson and by others will arrive. Hold on to your book store gift cards. Don't cash them in just yet. Pen show at a bad time once again. We've no money and one must arrive there with CASH to get purchases of really cool things. But bills are due and can you log in today and still get the day off and will you be able to use Sick Pay to fill the hours for that one day off of your week? Can you still get paid? Wouldn't that be NICE! But, February, viewed from here, though only a few days away, seems like an eternety off of the map of following time we have to pass to get to.
Bills are due. Bills are due. We sing their sad refrain. We have, ah-yes, the taxes due as well. Another bill. But what we have to pay will play well if we don't have money in the account when the accounting is made. How to deal. How to figure. We can't. We have to have the flux capacitor full to run forwards and backwards in time, and it will only be at the stroke of the right moment, wherein we'll be able to hook up with the line that allows us to pay off what we have to pay off, and sail on from there to freedom of other things.
We're struck by the allure of shirts, watches, shoes. Where does all this crap come from? We have stuff galore. We have no room for it. Why must we be victim to its thrall? Why can't we get rid of it? Why can't we, sit in our chairs and read the damn books and magazines we have stacked up everywhere, and why can't we be satisfied with the time pieces and fully ridiculously stacked piles of clothing and footware we have teetering/tottering all around us, in this, their ever-accumulating dust-ridden space here in Shell City?
Our throat is limned with scum and we scrum like werewolves trying to clear it, making it sore. It is in pain in the morning and again at night. Why? Snoring? Sleep Apnea? Found a dentist yesterday on line nearby who treats (Non-surgical methods!) just this type of thing...was looking for a TM center. Many eons ago there weren't any in the O.C., now there's one, just down the road as it were. About time! We need to learn to chill. Get the right mixture of herbalistics and action of inaction of meditation; tai chi chuan, and yoga. That and all the while, all along the way, writing...oh, goodness, please: WRITING. Writing stories. Publishing them, and being happy...oh yes, and getting a new job this year in addition to writing, right? And NOT having something untoward happen that derails and in general does not allow us to move on like we should. Into the happiness center we so richly deserve. We're sick and tired of vomit central. Enough already. Time, more than high time, to move the corpus on.

Frustration With The Post

See, I think I know why the people who make websites don't make it so that their search engines actually find what's on their sites. It's quite simple. If you could find it right away...Say, I don't know; Type in the data and it loads right away? Voop! You'd be out and on to email or whatever it is you'd rather be doing besides cursing the writers of the blog, the administrators, etc. Yes...'that would make sense', we say at work. So, it's not done. Great.
See, it's to THEIR advantage to get you to stay. So, it doesn't pay for them to make their site work right. Get it? Make it a little retarded. Don't allow the search engine to cough up the correct spelling listing that, if only after hours of searching\spending time on their site, it brings it up. DAMMIT! You frackin' bastards! What is wrong with you? Are you members of the American Medical Association? Do you get a kickback with every conniption/stroke/heart attack victim you get from when we can't find the simplest things? Dammit! The world is lame. Really fricken lame.
Palm has a new machine. Only available at Sprint. Sweet. Guess who has a better deal through Verizon? Yes, that's right. Yours truly. The Frustrated Blogger. Not frustrated because his blog is lame and no one visits and add comments like the really clever: OH I concur, or, I know how you feel sport, have a beer or three, it's not that big of a deal. (YES IT IS!) Things are stupid and should be improved.
See, we live in a world where Celery takes more energy to consume than you can ever get any thing out of it, by eating it. How lame is that? VERY STUPID INDEED!!!
You can cure your skin condition only if you get more sun exposure...only trouble is, the more you expose yourself to the sun, the more you expose yourself to more skin problems...no more rashes that itch, blisters that are embarrassing to look at, no! Bio Oil indeed!! No, then you'd have Cancer, and REALLY have a skin problem to deal with. How smart is that? Not at all. It's dumb, stupid, lame. And this is the world we live in and have to deal with. Oh well.
I was trying to search on CBS.COM for my mother's appearance and the story regarding her trying to get people to make gray haired wigs for Cancer victims. Go ahead. Try to find that. It was on TV today, several times here in Southern California. On KCAL 9 news. The local L.A. station. (KCAL 9, the station owned by CBS, as well as CBS itself ran the segment. There were several appearances. 2:50 on KCAL 9 and 5:50 on CBS.) I dare you to try to find it with their search engine and then give me the url hyperlink, when you find it. Let me know how long it took you to get it. You won't find it with a regular search. Hence I prove my arguement with flying colors for how/why the world is lame.
Say for example there's a particular pen you like. A color or pen refill. You can't contact the company direct and get it. Sure, they could just walk over to production line and give you one. Put it in a box, even charge you for it, because you asked. But, no. There's some kind of idiotic Business Law, that doesn't allow it. And this just gets my panties in a knot...so, I guess the moral of this blog is: Stop Wearing Panties.

The World's Mess and It's Not In Your Kiss

There is a song, a number by the quintessential L.A. band of the A.D. period (After The Doors, and ironically early albums were produced by Ray Manzarek.), called: X and it's rocking hard stuff mostly...a few rockabilly influences, but mostly strained singing and raw sound, that's good. Rock. Yeah! I won't even mention the fact that they got mixed up in some kind of "movement" way back then in the early 80's when folks thought of hair bands and such. Which may have "besmirched" their passing through to other things which would have happened, dammit, if not for being corralled with "that" munk mess. And that "music" was much different. The thing I refer to here is a line from one of their tunes: The World's A Mess, It's In Your Kiss.
For me, the world is a mess and probably always was and will be, but especially now, the events near/far/wide...and in my home here in Shell City. Flooring done. Wiring. Plumbing. MESS! The stuff of the house in these areas is all over the place. It smells of concrete sealer (Which requires 3 days of don't walk there!!!) then the cork, then the dark red (beyond burgundy) coloring wood pieces...it's going to make it loud in here, damnit! And it also smells of chuffed up dry wall. It's dusty with that fine white powder, oh well. (Paste now in your teeth. YES.)
There is no kiss. My storage place is closed and I'm slightly amiss. There's no place for the clothing I pulled out and then last night washed...days...days...they go by and thank goodness I got it all sorted out. Cleared out. NAMI MUN book signing appearance:
http://milesfromnowherethenovel.wordpress.com/
PLEASE BUY HER BOOK!
My goodness, why do I have any thing? I'm bereft of logic, thought, sense and it's amazing I still go forth. But press on I do.
The world's a mess and nothing is in your kiss. I'm amazed. I think I thought and I come and I go. Where am I now? So demonstrably enabled to...sit and cogitate but am unable it appears to make a dent in this place called: LIFE/THE WORLD, with any thing I do but get in trouble and on occasion make people laugh...and I do include my self in that equasion. I do laugh quite heartily from moment to moment in my daily routine...along with the cursings of things...talking out loud to pieces of soap, boxes I'm holding up to get put into the attic I don't know where...leaves that fall out of the net as I bend and stoop to gather up more into the holy bag attached to a pole, which is stuffed into the swimming pool again and again to clean. (Moon's Full. Air Is Dry and Blowing stuff every where.) It's life as I know it. The world's a mess and it's not in your kiss.

More Content

It would seem to me that some where some how there is a reading public for every one going...just like there is a person with whom one can share certain "intimacies" in life, for every one...but whether or not any one meets up with that certain someone, is, any one's guess...just as whether or not a painter sells a painting, or even wants to...a photographer has a show some place or another, a horse rider gets to ride and perform before others their host of tricks learned together with their "mount"...it's any one's guess whether or not any one can "make it".
Looking for something else in the bookshop tonight I found a book written by a woman a friend of mine knew fairly well...this only person in the world from life long long dissipated surfaced tonight in the form of an author...a book, on the shelf, and I duly purchased her "first" novel. I'm excited to read it. I hope she does well. If I find her giving a reading some where in town, I will make DAMN sure to be there. Something told me: It's going to happen. It's going to happen...meaning It will happen for me too...if only certain things take place...one, I write some things and two I get some publishing going.
The idea now is to copyright and or otherwise protect what I have in addition to getting or going for an agent with it...getting it listed hooked up with some of the more popular electronic publishing venues...the book place on line and the portable text reader thing as well...yes, it's going to cost me some money, about 2 hundred bucks or so all told...but it is worth it I feel. Takes money to make it...can't just make money in real estate over night without any money to first buy some...then, you have to sell it, don't you? Yes, of course you do...and good luck to you...it's a buyer's market right now, not a sellers. Buena Suerte Suckers!!!

Then You Suddenly Manage...

It occurs to me that some day soon it happens that one day very often it comes to pass that...you can't remember a damn thing and every one else remembers every thing else differently.

There Is No Title

Time and time again I have told you and you are not listening. Why are you completely ignoring what I have to say? WHY? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You must be the most stupid individual in the whole world. Must be. I mean, why can't you listen, do as I say, learn? What does it require? WHAT?
Must you fail forever? Must you never get any where? Where do you want to go what do you celebrate or what would you if you could? What could you change what would you change and would it all amount to a bunch of money? You'd only have a bunch of other problems and you know it.
Living life, it's change in relativity. Things change but they do not. Life itself is not fair. It sucks. But so too it is bliss ridden and you live life and move along and yet not so very far either. It happens. Things come and go. You're pissed out of the blue and happy there too. So, what do you make of that? It doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, does it? So why would you waste your time trying to change it make it better or being depressed/suicidal about it either? It's a waste. It seems every thing is...it really does. Truly it must be that the most important thing to note that ultimately nothing matters...that that statement is perhaps the most apt and true of any...EVER!

AND DON'T BELIEVE EVERY THING YOU THINK

AND DON'T BELIEVE every thing you think either. Yes, that occurred to me the other day when I thought up this rather profound way of describing things...actually, it didn't. What actually occurred was this: I read that statement the other day and it didn't make me disbelieve what I thought up the day prior to that. In fact, it cemented it into my consciousness, no, it didn't do that either. What it did do was make me think and allow me to breathe and relax and lately I haven't and lately I have but recently I've not been able to feel real good. I've had a spate of really feeling like shit and worrying like crazy about my mouth and the fact of my dental history being a depressing subject: More and More expense and the general DECAY of things...very depressing...
The thoughts of describing life are as follows:
Milly or Mike. Shiboo and Nothing like that, are or were or is the creator or creation of life. There's PISH and it's every thing. All things and nothing as well. NEVER MIND how it got here or how it decided to create things: life the universe and every thing. It doesn't matter, as you'll find out, nothing does. More on that later or now: Don't Worry. It's nothing to worry about because you cannot do any thing about it any way. It's a given.
PISH is every particle under the sun and is the sun and all aspects of all things. Say it's a consciousness as well. So too, there's YOU for example. YOU, yes, YOU READING THIS RIGHT NOW. Have you been here before? Will you "BE" again? Well, here now is a thing for the description of reincarnation. I don't believe in it or care but here we go.
YOU as a property or particle, a consciousness as it were are here now and have been many people and things and will be forever...so what? Who cares? You learn things? Come back again and again to discover what life/living is and all? YOU are also the PISH thing too...so, put that in your pipe and smoke it...or don't, because all of you have been doing this for millennia, and it's not helped or solved a thing at all. There is war/fighting/suffering and indignity, etc...and it's not necessary but some how it is because it's here and it is.
Like a rain drop. A single and individual thing...from a lake or pond or whatever it was before to the rain drop/rain and then puddle, pond or whatever all over again...or snow...and it melts and again...back to the whatever. This is this. This is all of us, all of the properties and all.
And all our thoughts feelings, etc. they're just what are as a result of all the right elements combinging to do this...and then, when the combination is over, we will be. All our thoughts will be too. All of our emotion, thinking, consciousness, etc. it will all be absorbed back into the cosmos as it were. Back to PISH or whatever what have you.
What is, is; people coming and going and thinking and feeling and though we call these things what is and what isn't and all, it's perhaps and probably the same phenomena, explained in our language and receptors of reality as we see, but will probably be the same thing over and over and over again...with no real change or "IMPROVEMENT" or what as that...and it's not important. It doesn't really matter. So in the end or whatever, you and I don't really have to be so any thing. We don't have to be so pro or against any one or thing...that we see hear feel. We don't have to be really. We are, but so what?
This could be depressing if one thought of it so, but it doesn't have to be. It can just be accepted.
It came up to me this afternoon. I had thought of how to express all of this. It came out differently than I had intended and that's okay because the basic gist of what I was thinking the other morning as I woke up and began to describe life reality, is here.
It came to me again the statement in the William Faulkner novel and I think I'm getting it right: "If I could choose grief over nothing, I would". I think it's from WILD PALMS, and is quoted in a Jean Luc Godard film, A Band Apart Or Breathless, I'm not sure. For me. I think I would prefer NOTHING. I don't mind feeling blank every now and again. It's comforting in a way...can save me a lot of trouble, pain, grief...

DON'T BELIEVE EVERY THING YOU HEAR...OR READ...

At the risk of cutting my own arguement, I must say: NO, GODDAMMIT! NO!!! If I were to make a video for You Tube right now, I'd cue the sound byte from the Tom Leykis program from radio to blurt: NO, GODDAMMIT, NO! And then I'd say, as my Introduction To Broadcasting teacher at Loyola Marymount said many eons ago: Don't Believe Everything You Hear...or see, or for that matter, read. He began the session with the serious description of a device called a Lumagraph...we duly made the diagram as he put it up on the chalk-board. Well, now, aint that special? WTF?!
Did you swallow hook line and sinker that crap BUSH spewed on TV last night? I refused to watch it. Why? Not because I had to get up at 3 A.M. and go swimming in my pool and make it to work on time at 6.30 A.M. Pacific...a few hours later, after the requisite reading and writing in my car, etc. No. But even though those are very nearly excellent reasons, I deemed his drivel beneath me. I have considered this buffoon or arrogant arse, beneath my reckoning. At least in the sense that every one knows this 700 ++++++++ bail out, is a pay back to his buddies, and nothing more. Every one with a scintilla of sense knows this. Ask John/Jane Q Public on the street, and they'll concur, but NO ONE and I mean NO ONE has the guts to do any thing about it. NO ONE WILL. We will allow this bull-f-sh-- to pass and suck it up, like sucking up the sawed-off, double barrel, over and under, 12 gauge shot-gun, with triple aught buck, and blowing our collective craniums off our brain-stem/torsos. Gladly, it would seem. Here, you doggone idjit-galoot. Eat these mudpies. Oh, yessssss. I luv-em, I luv-em. More Please.
I say NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO!!! Shove this Bush where the sun doesn't shine. Stop this idiotic moron from ruining our country more than he and his minions already have. STOP. STOP. STOP! NOW.

OKAY

Okay, so I've not written in here in a while. They tell me that doing this, it removes from the self the necessary energy needed to write...stories...that which we've not been composing of late...but have been living...there have been meet & greets and 10 year anniversaries at work and much much to much food and not nearly enough drink...but, hey, it's not all about not having sex, is it? Could be, could be, but one thing is for sure, too much of it is not enough...not enough of it is plenty, and some day some way, some where, some how, I'm going to figure it all out, or ... or not. But, either way, I'll write about it.

PORTRAYAL OF ODIOUS ACCOUNTS

Can't believe she just left me like that. High and well...vapid. You know, nothing. There is nothing. None of them respond. And when I do reach out, it's too late. Shit. Is this the best I can do? I don't completely like them...not like that. I mean, I don't want marriage or babies. Not those two monsters. NO WAY! But a serious committed relation-ship? Yeah, sure, I'd like that. It would be good to try on for size, because I aint making it here alone. Not like this in the big house of my spiritual birth. No. Sure, there have been writings from here and caused from here, but it's over, done, gone...we HAVE to make some thing out of all this and we're not and it's depressing. The women come and go like wraiths in a dimly lit bar in an unincorporated area of Orange County, California, where the various law enforcement agencies who can cover it, out number the reivers.
The clothes they stack up, just like the books and the dust and memories. Can't get enough of them that they don't choke my room like the ginormous amount of piled high shoes make me stumble and fall from time to time. I kind of like it like that I guess I'd say. Must, else wise, we'd change it, no? Right. Change. Change the Change that you're going to Change...Change...Change...Frack!
Dammit! I'm lost again. I am always always lost, and this proves it. There's no hope for me. No hope. I won't do any thing ever again.
NO MORE will I ever have a great meal at a run of the mill restaurant that features local beer and an open pit grill. Great food and atmosphere but way too high in the prices...no one to go there with...no one to run with any more...but when was there ever that? When? When did it all end? When?
I'm the ghost. I look at the old phone book and there's no one in there I have a current name (last name/married) address or phone number for. It's depressing. Bothers me. Who to relate to? Who to see? Who calls? Who cares? NO ONE. It doesn't matter. Oh well. So what. Whatever. Never mind...moving on...moving...even that's a farce. Moving. That won't cure or save or salvage any thing. Not one iota. Not a bit. Just do your thing and get on with it. Get out already I guess is the thing. Get out. Move. After you've done it, move. You're not needed/wanted/of "concern" and so should be removed, just like a wart, the carbuncle you had on your neck a few months ago...funny thing that...it dissolved, back into the skin. I'll never look at a pimple the same way, ever again...and just wish we could stop shoving metal objects in my ear to clear out ear wax. It hurts. I don't need to do that...need glasses and sex. Must move on with that...but not do any thing stupid to get it...nothing so desperate as that. Never. NEVER!! NEVER!!!!

WHAT I DON'T HAVE

WHAT I DON'T HAVE AND WHAT YOU DON'T HAVE is definitive assurance that the incoming president will abolish the "Patriot" act. And that is a shame. Still can your government detain and imprison any one for any reason the Executive Branch of the government deems "necessary" and not read them any "rights" or tell them why they're being incarcerated.
What you and I don't have are any guarantees that what we do today or tomorrow just won't land us in jail, for an unending term, for whatever reason, and we won't be told why and we won't have to be allowed representation if we cannot afford it and so what and too bad and tough sucker that's just the way it is. You don't like it, live some where else. Kill yourself, etc. Well, I say, F-that F!!
What I don't have right now is a beautiful Korean woman who loves me for who I am and a job that pays the mortgage or rent (if I'm a complete idiot), and in general, takes care of me or any "family" I think I might want to begin, if I'm so dispositioned. No, I don't have that. O miserable me, eh? Who cares?
In a world where Karl Rove is allowed to exist. Where he can crap on television and we're made to be aware of it, we suffer endlessly. We cannot function like decent human beings. We cannot post how stupid and contradictory the public speakers are...but only the Daily Show can on a comedic vein...well, that's just not right. I mean, sure, yeah, right. They get it, I guess that's cool. We're still getting free speech, I mean some one is...but hell, to see these trucks with the old' W in 04 stickers...oh scheiss!! What in the HELL? How can there be that many idiots in the world? They give them the ability to vote! IT'S CRAZY!!! I just hope that my recent change in political party for the Vote in NOVEMBER which I think is the most important vote in our life time, will come through. I some how think that it won't work. I somehow think that something will come along and totally screw it up. I don't know why, but I do. It hurts me to no end. I hope my absentee ballot arrives soon, some kind of confirmation from Neal at the Voting thing in Santa Ana, says, hey buddy, I got your paper work. Soon I'll send (My office workers will.) you your stuff for the new party affiliation you now have, and you'll be able to vote as you wish in November.
What I don't have but you probably do, is the knowledge and faith and confirmation that you can have your cake and eat it. I don't. Having a roof and clothes and work, I do have, but not any satisfaction that my work is of any use to humanity and it's nothing to do with giving back to the world that's allowed me to live in it so far. I guess I owe it something, but maybe I don't. Maybe we have it all wrong.
John and Robert and Malcolm and Martin gave their lives for this country. Jesus indicated that he gave his life for your soul. We're told to live like Jesus. What, are we to publically commit suicide? What the hell? I don't consider that's the right thing to do. I want a public life, sure, want to be popular enough to have companies in Japan want me to sell pens and shirts and pads of paper for them. DEFINITELY I do want that. Desperately I do need that, right now in fact. But, I have to be POPULAR first. I have to have some kind of gimmick or something, right? I have to create some kind of stink. But, if it involves influencing people to commit murder for me, a la Charlie Manson, forget about it, you know? I don't need that. I don't consider the Beatles that good, that they're telling me to start a race riot/war. I really want world peace and I really want jetpacks and understanding and for every one going to have precisely what they want, whenever they want, and for there to be no more suffering, no more. FOREVER. If I ruled the world, it would not be like it is now. I mean, if I could change things, people would be happy right fracking now, and there'd be no doubt that every thing would be okay.
BUT, we don't live in that world. We live in this fracked up one. And this one is supposedly by some people precisely made by GOD and it's done this way on purpose and it's perfect in and of itself so that we are missing something to get us to search and find god and genuflect and bow down and every thing like this, because we're not worthy, etc.
To want is to suffer. To not want, isn't. Okay. I don't want any thing. I feel fine don't I? I'm perfect now, aren't I? I don't need any thing. I don't have a care in the world and what I don't have doesn't matter one iota. Great. Perfect. Done. Can I just die now?

FORGET ABOUT ME

"Don't you, forget about me. Don't. Don't. Don't. Don't you, forget about me. As you walk on by..."
--Simple Minds, Don't You (Forget About Me)

Well, of course you will. You're 18, you're 25, and you are just entering adulthood, and like I was, I saw many things, drank, and would cruise around the life and not know much of any thing, but, who was that older guy who...hung around and...life passes on by and who cares? It's too difficult and painful to consider and it's all so depressing, so let's not let it cloud our minds or souls. That's negative. Please, let it go.
RIGHT, so, let it go, and fade away...let it go...I think of U2 right now. That line from that song because I was just researching Stranger, Stranger In A Strange Land, you looked at me like I was the one who should run. Which are to the best of my ability, lyrics of the U2 song. I was looking for the 1961 published book by Robert A. Heinlein. The year I was born.
I hang out with people who are decades younger than I. I am the same age as some of their parents. No wonder none of the girls will "get" with me. Still or living again at home and all, it's an embarrassment. Having no "game" or whatever the hell it is I need for sex, whether cold and impersonal or deep and meaningful, I go with out, as I assume does most of humanity, and whether it's good or not, I consider that, maybe if more of us got it, maybe we as a people, humanity in general, would be better off. Not for procreation sex, but "RECREATION", and "sanity". But, what the frack do I know? Most people who marry and this inevitably kills their sex life/drive, (Not all I assume, but, a lot.) don't bother with it as much. You got the security of the familiar. You can "more or less" get it whenever, it's not much of an issue, and no WAY do you discuss it much, whether with your peers or spouse. It's "done".
So, the point: I want now to get along with others more and have sex and have it not be such a fracking big deal. I don't want it mentioned here in blogs and all such as that. I don't need it. I would since I don't have any thing, to be able to move on as if I do. I mean, for what I wanted out of life and what I don't have, then, well, now, I want a track changed, and I demand of life, to be able to MOVE ON!!!

I GOT UP, WENT SWIMMING, AND ALL I GOT FOR MY TROUBLE...

AND ALL I GOT for my trouble was this quote:

Quote of Note
“It's the Olympics. If you can't get up to swim in the morning, don't go."

--Michael Phelps, Swimming

And so there you go. You can't watch it live. Maybe you can catch it on Telemundo at 9 A.M. PDT, and perhaps you can't. You have to work. I on the other hand got up at 2:45 A.M. and went swimming. I got up and got going. Had some water and juice and performed Tai Chi Chuan (Yang, Long Form.), and then went to the store to get a beer and crisps. I have a headache now I'm so pissed off because I haven't been able to see the Olympics LIVE and am thinking now: fuck it and fuck them. Fuck it all. Get to reading now and maybe taking off to the local restaurant for some eggs, bacon, toast, tea, and a host of other good things before storming off to see a movie I might like. Something to do with fruit and the speedy delivery thereof (Pineapple Express). Who knows.