I just want to get out of here.

Delusion.

Out of the depths
they cry
one million tired souls
hungry hearts
aching minds.
Crawling up the underground
conjointly lingering over hopeless thoughts.
I am.
agony....broken words or questions
old woman scrambling over the pieces
to find a small chain of gold
or the lonely piece of diamond.
Time. Never time.
Shake. Wasted time.
Quiver to the thought
the song, resounding emptiness
resounding depths of quietness
there was left.
We ate the end of time.
We ache the end of time.
It is nothing.
Never what you see
what I didn't know
illusions.
We were illusions
fading in the dirt
rotting away
dispatched carbon
disposable memories
the whole time.
Now silence to indifference.
strangers, we mean nothing.
Old woman alone still scrambling in small hours.

“For indeed, a man who aspires to rise above the mediocre, to be something more than ordinary, surely deserves admiration, even if in the end he fails and loses a fortune on account of his ambitions. It is my belief, furthermore, that Sugimura did not die an unhappy man. For his failure was quite unlike the undignified failures of most ordinary lives, and a man like Sugimura would have known this. If one has failed only where others have not had the courage or will to try, there is a consolation—indeed, a deep satisfaction—to be gained from this observation when looking back over one’s life.”

Kazuo Ishiguro, An Artist of the Floating World

October Reverie.

You know what's there
waiting on ahead of you
you've seen the whole world
and some nights you crave to be
in the spaces between
all the beautiful days
yes, the beautiful days
of the October breeze
and fast settling humidity
Riding inside you
flying on beside you
days too short
and some confused and long
but a drawn out whisper
from years ago
carries me on
carries me on.

Water.

For No One,
This is the beginning and the end all at once. I've been crawling out of the darkness taking the smells of the soils and injecting them into the marrow of my bones. I'm going on an adventure, beyond physical, more sensual, euphoric relief away from everything that's polluted me. Because I'm tired of waiting for someone to dream the way I dream, waiting for permission to really feel things in a much deeper way than just skimming the surface of what could be oceans. Because I'm fed up, enraged, impatient, passionate, affectionate, idealistic, and as mad as hell. Because I've been tied to Sisyphus' rock. Because I've been rotting, because I've become the worst part of me. I want to feel things passionately, I've wanted it so long. I want to have sex on beaches and on mountains. I want to feel cold, naked and at the same time full of life in dew grass, I want to look at the stars and remember how young we are and imagine seeing the whole world.

I want to make love that really means something, not have it taken for granted, not have it taken away but rather evenly spread out. I don't want the city, I want the trees and the hills, and sunrises, and laughter that echoes through canyons deep. I want to sleep at the base of mountain lakes in Idaho. I want to hear old people tell stories and write them down. I want to travel and not settle. I want so much more than to just move away, I want to be a nomad, the way I always dreamed I would. Why? Why does everyone settle to dream pragmatically when there's so many incredible, beautiful things that call out for something different, something much more than just a room to sleep in? You can see it in the infinite roots of Argentine banyan trees, I can feel it in the moment we were both really alive and acted like animals, because we are animals and we should follow feeling, not logic, we should risk everything on a long shot and not be ashamed of holding that hope in our hearts. Because I truly, madly believe in the love between beings, real love, that goes against the current, that doesn't settle, but burrows deeper, deeper than the idea you think can work. There's so much more than that if you're willing to take it, if you're willing to steal the universe's chaos and live inside of it. Because it's more than a normal life, because it's better, because it can dig deep inside and infect you with only good. But you can't miss the launch, you can't miss that one moment in time that can change everything before it splits and becomes disappointing and leaves everything to denial. You are a tight-rope walker, but only on the rope.

That was love on the beaches and the small, cold shack and the glorious bedrooms. That was love; unabashed, unquestioned, unjustified, confusing, exciting, and risky. And I want that, to rub the back of a sleeping human and have no doubt that it will wake and turn and want to feel in that second the way I do, want me, want to live deliberately, unafraid, naked in a pool of sharks, the ocean in the middle of a new moon night. To take a real risk and fall (without stopping) off of that passion cliff and hope you won't hit any rocks at the bottom. That's what I want, what I've wanted, what I've waited for and I don't care now that I waited in vain for an unshared dream, I'm going to find it, I'm going to take it all the way to Portland and see the west, hop trains and buses from there to California, Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Montana. Ride horses barefoot through vast open spaces. I will shed no more tears and be alive, really alive again because I've waited too long and any more time and I'll whither and the most precious part of my being, my alien soul that cries out for the love of humanity and can do no more but to hope for it and hope that they one day realize will die without ever having the chance to know those sparkling stars in the sky.

I'm ready. I'm ready to really live, above everyone else's life. Because I understand what's really exceptional, and because I'm in touch with everything that has feeling in this place that people seem to have abandoned for imitations of something. I'm not afraid of it, I've just waited, waited for so long to find nothing, nothing existed in it. I want to be free. I want to love deeply without consequence or constant pain. Those things have stifled me, made me dream pragmatically and I can't live that way. I won't settle. I will die on a coffee farm in South America, perhaps alone, perhaps with no one around, perhaps without ever having known the contents of this letter, but at the very least I searched for it, I didn't give up, I didn't settle for less. That's what I want, it's what I've wanted to share but now will do in a way that I never dreamed I would before.

Water has made a new path.

Ethereal, Pneumatic Reverie

Steaming through the constancy
titubation at rest
and gliding in humbly.
Gathering the tiny stones
walked over the jejune centuries
I made up, imagined,
but passionately.
And they were my dreams
Ethereal, pneumatic reveries
bequeathed to the truly venerated, hopeful world
that was different and higher than I could reach.
But it's coming to the close
of a drawn-out, naive day
and those that I dreamt quietly, ever so peacefully
slip away...
Still it infects me, draws blood away
that you won't be there
further up that road my someday.
But I pass quietly,
giving wide, sweet words
of what I wish away from me.
...and close my eyes
and pretend for a while
that the image inside
is giving back a whisper and a smile.
I'll pass silently,
the light, that lit a world for only me
and still dream.
oh yes, I'll still dream
for you and for me,
that in some way
the crooked world
may one day set our foreign hearts free.

"Give me hope/ Help me cope,/with this heavy load/ Trying to, touch and reach you with,/ Heart and soul"

George Harrison

Thoughts From the "Material World"

George Harrison is always my favorite out of the almost miracle band that was once The Beatles. Perhaps because I see things in a similar sensual manner and because in a way I desire that spirituality that others take their whole life journey in attempt to understand it (I’m speaking of Hinduism). He understood human beings and cared genuinely for them, as do I even when I pretend not to. See, that’s my personal flaw I think as well, that’s where George is different. He had that spiritual mantra thing happening for him, so when the time came to let go of something, his mind was forward. Of course, they say he truly missed The Beatles after a long time and ended up getting involved in various groups in film and with The Traveling Wilburys in order to enjoy himself and be a collaborator again. It’s what he loved. I’m not really sure how to explain it anyway else, I mean honestly John wrote more songs for The Beatles that transcended the few George got on the records but George always has a way of reaching me, I understand his being. Every time I feel out of place in this big world that fights back at me, I can listen to All Things Must Pass or any one of George’s songs and feel all that much more connected in the world. That’s what’s so beautiful about music really, it isn’t just entertainment, it’s something that is important in reaching you.


I wish that I could explain things, in terms of my love for certain things and have them be understood so clearly and fluently as a musician can. I try in my writing but it comes out more as pain, but pain leads to the reward of seeing how wonderful of a thing it is you see before you. My animals, my lovers, even my parents who reject every effort I make to try to please them. The Hindus believe that you can only truly love one person in your lifetime, and the idea is unconditional love and it reaches above and helps you understand the love of God. I’ve always thought that was such a beautiful thing. Not that I’m going to spend all of my money to go to India and become an “untouchable” on a spiritual path to save myself. But I’m not afraid to learn about peaceful things that help people. And I’m not afraid to love the people out of reach from me, although I may have my weak moments where I fall to my knees, become some pitiful creature, it doesn’t change the fact that my heart keeps beating for the same cause even if it means I have to change the path and the way I must oversee that love. My weaknesses I don’t think are ever truly weak but rather sadness built up for the failure of myself projected onto a distant thing. It is a pity, but it means something to me
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pq2drqGI8-0&feature=related

I'm awake, but not really alert. Anything could snatch me, the ruling or the folly. Uncontrollable drifting. And I'm painting, painting for Goya. Thinking of the dark trails winding off the Earth and twisting, bending swiftly into innumerable corners, drifting into a sleep of reason deeper than the surface, perfect in the benign indifference of the picture, straying from harsh human thought. I'm following, following a light trying to make out the depths in the shadows before me. Trying not to slip into them. Trying not to let them consume me, break my bones, cut my ankles, my shins, Achilles. I'm listening, listening carefully to my feet crunching under me, not knowing the surfaces they are touching but the fantastic mind produces the image based off sound bites over years of memory. Still, the unknown shadows jump out at me. Will I fall off the edge of the mighty force that shot itself from the crusts years before I dared stroke her spine. Is this the reference of the ageless time I let pass between me and the rest of the world. I can't breath, but I'll climb with rusty muscles to this rocky corridor and take in the impending light. Even then, I won't crumple. And still, scraping the edges of these great cliffs at the close, eyes glazed staring out the train's window, I can feel the home of this winter cold. I can feel the warmth in these impoverished homes. I can feel the rise and fall of the lungs of the animals in the pastures. I can feel the almost frozen soil in its gentle rolling nature over these mountains, giving these courageous people the food they have earned. And when I watch the sun fall over the valleys of this diverse and absolute place, turning to purples in the mountains and reds over the rolling crops, I feel this sense of calm rush over my eyes and in my heart, everything is functioning just fine.