Anger 3 years ago... still feel the same...

Why is that? That i hate people. Nine times out of five. I can't tell what you are gonna do. Not because I'm psychic, I have amazing powers of observation.

So there are these people I know. A friend and I sat and talked about these people. We surmised as to what these people would be doing in the next few days. Low and fucking behold there they were not a half hour later.

Now I'm really pissed. Why am I pissed same reason Jesi and Sarah pissed me off they did just as I knew they would. No suprizes, It's as if I script what they are doing. Fuck I can tell you what you are doing while you are doing it!!! How is this. I'm guessing it's because I deal with enough shitty people often enough to call you out... Shit you don't like getting called out.

Just fucking once I would like some one to fucking prove me Goddamn wrong... fucking way wrong. About what they are going to do or why they did what they did. Is it confusion on their part or is it I that is the shit that lies so nicely placed on the floor.

Am i the lonely one built there by my own device? Or is it that you are a piece of fucking shit.... Only because I know what you will be doing before you do it? IS IT YOU COULD BE THAT FUCKING STUPID? What is it? Who is it? Is this the same road that I have been walking down again and again. Nothing changing... I need out of this place... You fucking shit heads fucking christ no better than the dirt that I walk on!!!!

At the same time you are better than me. You know God, You have money, You have an education, and I might add that that education you have has done you no more than the toilet paper that I wipe my ass with you cunt.

Of course you probably can't figure out why I'm mad at you... And that would because well you are stupid. And so is your boy friend. Not smart, not smart at all. I want to say it appears I have something you haven't got. Why else would you cling like a terrible sticky shit. Fifty seven wipes and you are still there waiting... waiting for me to give in and let you stick around, and chafe my ass.

I haven't got what you need. I can't share it. I wont share it. It is something you learn and if you haven't found it by 20 you wont find it till you are too old to do a damn thing about it. Sorry, fucktard.

I'm a pretentious asshole and so be it as I see it. I'm not better than you different than you. And that is okay I stand here on my grass which is green, and you're somewhat greener grass and crowded masses can have you yard. I'll keep my free open range. Because you will never be free of your box. Nor will I ever free my self from your boxes shadow.... Forever, will I be locked into a tug of war with the masses with the predictable... the unimaginative...

It's okay buy a fucking jeep.... you'll instantly be the outdoors type. Buy a fucking beetle... Be a fucking hippie... what years is that car... bet they don't even know... but hey I'm a hippie, I have the dress the tie die shirt to go with it... I am punk I have the ramones on my t-shirt... Fuck you do you even know you? Could you pick your self out of the line up? Why... Why... Why ...



Fuck off........

Randomness

I can't spell. So, that means the really big words I know how to sling; remain holstered.

The real trick is to find yourself seeing patterns. Then stop from seeing those patterns, because in all reality there are no patterns but the patterns themselves. Thus creating patterns that are only patterns reflecting the very patterns that make up themselves. Senseless and pointless, yet everything that is.


Since you are a pattern you to are part of this and can make anything a pattern you want. So by stop seeing the patterns you actually start making new ones. The best part of this being you haven't seen anything like it before.


Happiness is what you were created for. Set down the longing. set down the heart ache, grab your happiness satchel, putt out your thumb, and hitch hike the rest of your existence with your happiness only.

Even if god isn't real.... people who believe make it very real.

Every moment is eternity.... (thank you Marry Beth) the only reason you have another is that eternity is forever. There for you must experience another moment of eternity. This is one of those patterns I spoke of.


You are alone, yet totally encompassed by all. For there is no separation of one thing to another. we are all just vibrations. Just think in the sixties they thought the gurus were crazy..... turns out they've been right for oh... about 4,000 years that we know of.


Just in the sake of argument. If the religion that you practice... if you think that it hasn't gotten better in the hate department in over 2000 years. maybe you should research one that didn't start on some tangent of adultery. Look for the one with some guy under a tree thinking.... not some dude screwing two different chicks in the desert, huh?


In turn they both a bare a child... these children give birth to children that still claim they are "gods" children. What they can't see is that they both are.....


Is Nothing scary? Do you think the atoms in your car think that you own them, or are they vibrating as if you do not exist?


Here is one... does your dog think you own it, Or does it think it owns you?


So, really, what do you own?

Even your body... not yours... a vessel maybe, but it will disintegrate. Formed billions of years ago from a super nova. Do you think the calcium in your bones says i belong to Jason Lepp, or does it just say hey I act like calcium?


Oh your mind own that do you? watch a thought. I need to pee. who thought that if you were watching? were did that come from? can you observe the observer?

my points are scattered... thus they be that.... when shall I feel what i feel?

Ash Tray

My ash tray is completely full. I've smoked all night. I feel guilt as I look at it. You know, it being the 21st century, I'm a fucking heathen! A blasphemer to the highest degree: no repose, for, the ash tray is full.
Although, I must say that I feel as if I have done something; If not only to fail.
fail at love.
fail at hope.
to fail, or to fill. To fill the ash try with burning embers?
You decide. I have no choice to you, I am a heathen.
Yet, I am happy. To have failed.
There is no greater place to be here... drunken as it may be.
Drunken: Heathen.
As qualified by whom?
To what assessment?
To conclusion.
And from what, book do you choose to make this judgment?
Who's eyes do you use to see? thy own?
Or mine.
Nay!
It tis thy ego!
Coxed by mother slashed by father.
A meandering painting. Colored by those who tell you to be how you are.
You are who, who you are.
Lost?
Find thy self, and may all those who have ears hear.
Break the mold; of that which you know not.
for yet, ye know not yourself.
And still the ash tray is full of spent embers. Dead to me as all of the world I can see, and understand. For , it has been built upon guilt, and the wall stand strong. The guilt was planted deep in JESUS name "AMEN."
Once a babe, a clean slate we were. Before the the brush stroke fell on a white canvas. The Canvas was you. The stroke? Our world.
We are tainted by the thoughts of those before us. Never given the chance to blow what we inherit. I am the meek and the king a like... Born of a womb.

Where did they all go?

As I sit pondering nothing, but the pondering of nothing, I see that must people don't need to leave the house to discover what others are doing, and I find myself looking over the party invitations over any of the social sites, and thinking to myself that I don't need to go to "Be There" I can just peruse the party pictures afterward, get drunk at home keep my cleanliness, and keep my licenses. I guess in some aspects I don't to go out much anymore. I'm finding it a colossal waste of time. There is no conversation you are going to find yourself in, because the only time people gather these days is to forget there names, and these people aren't interested in a Islamic eschatology. However, I'm not meeting anyone new! See the conundrum one finds themselves in? I think I'm getting old, but I have more in common with those whom are my younger 10 plus years. I have this Peter Pan thing going on. However, the best part is I still have options, and these options are even better than the ones I had ten years ago! It just keeps getting better. One must question is it commitment that scares me. I will admit that it may play a small part in it, however, I'm aware of the fact I enjoy moving about quite regularly, and that I'm probably not going to stop anytime soon. It's just me, man, I love to move about. Consequently living my life in this fashion I have found happiness, and I'll be damned if it isn't what I've been looking for all this time. It might sound cliche' but I must also say it isn't something that is outside of you! This doesn't mean I'm going to quit looking, or trying, it just means that with the times I have to adjust what I'm doing, and or how I'm performing the rituals of the times. This means polluting the internet with my messes and ideas... spreading my ideas!

Absolute truth....

Is there Objective Truth, or is it rather a collection of agreed upon “truths” that a group of people assume to be objective? This question can be answered many ways, and insomuch as there are thinkers that have thoughts on this idea, there are nearly as many different answers.  The question that has yet to be answered in class is, is there actual outside Objective Truth to be found? If one looks at the history of western science, one will find that within the origins there was an idea that science was attempting to answer or understand God; within that concept there is an idea that there is a truth outside of the human domain. This is where the philosophers are finding the initial problem, however, while finding the faults in the system have yet to provide answers to fix this problem. The issue is not with the system itself, but how we are posing the questions, and what questions we are asking. The idea that there is an objective truth that one can obtain, maintain, and then demonstrate without having to comply to the confines of a previously set up paradigms is not possible. The issue has become that the paradigms are set up in such away as to presume that there is an objective truth that can explain everything. Nothing can be explained without acknowledging that all concepts come from within ourselves, and that we can only build from the concepts that humans have constructed, or tear the constructions down. The issue is not using inductive reasoning, but using inductive reasoning to arrive at an objective deductive conclusion without the acknowledgment of self-reference. This makes any truth subjective to the paradigms one is taught, one’s religious affiliation, one’s idea of truth, and how one presumes that we collectively as humans can arrive at this truth. Truth is subjective, but through collective observations, however, humans can arrive at a subjectively human truth that is only good for that particular paradigm, for that particular set of humans, and what they can agree upon.

What is a tomato?  Assuming that everyone knows what a tomato is, this is at first a simple question that can seemingly answered with certainty. However, in this country many people consider it to be a vegetable, while by definition it is a fruit, for it is not a seed or root, but it is a swollen ovary of a plant that contains seeds.  What is the truth of a tomato? Is it a fruit or a vegetable? In order for us to look closely at the task at hand we must ask what is the essence of a tomato, or what is tomatoness. In search for tomatoness one might first cut a tomato in half. In cutting in half was the tomato destroyed, or did it become two tomatoes? As stated prior we are looking for tomatoness, and with further investigation it appears that both halves exhibit what could be described as tomatoness.  Assuming that everyone knows what a tomato is, it can be agreed that cutting it in half, or any number of reasonable times, the tomatoness will not go away, nor, will anyone be able to find tomatoness by cutting it into pieces, thus, not isolating the tomatoness. The tomatoness must lie in the descriptive properties of the tomato, such as: sometimes red, sometimes squishy, sometimes green, it’s always acidic, and it has seeds. However, many other things in the world share these very qualities, yet, none of them in totality express tomatoness. What I’m trying to express is the fact that one cannot take apart the whole to explain the whole objectively. While at the grocery store produce section one can plainly see that while sharing qualities of a tomato, nothing but a tomato is a tomato. This means that only tomatoes contain tomatoness, and further more, one cannot extract tomatoness from the tomato, essentially the tomato in confined by the concept of what a tomato is. So incidentally is truth.

            Before it is demonstrate why truth cannot be founded in pieces, the idea that pieces put together do lead to an essence of things needs to be addressed.  It can be easily seen that each piece of any one whole does help to construct a concept about an object or concept, but the argument is that within those pieces, the essence of any one thing cannot be found in it’s own pieces. Just like the tomato the skin doesn’t make it a tomato, only by combining each part does anything become what it is, and there is no extraction of the essence of anyone thing. Yes, the combination of pieces does equal the whole and then gives rise to an essence, but there is not one piece that is the essence of the whole. Let’s say for instance that someone is attempting to put a tomato together, doesn’t know about tomatoes, but has all the parts of a tomato but the seeds. With great care one could construct a fairly accurate tomato, however, it wouldn’t be a true tomato, for, it lacks the seeds. 

            Science is attempting to explain the whole in pieces without knowing all the pieces, albeit that physics is attempting to find the equation to everything; this does not take into account the human condition, or the fact that we are using the human condition to come to conclusions about the universe, but before we examine the closed condition in which we must find truth, the current approach to finding truth itself needs to be looked at. As eluded to before science is breaking everything into pieces, and as in the tomato even though you are discovering what something is made of, it doesn’t mean you are coming any closer to finding the essence of things, or the truth about it. Let’s use paleontology as an example. A skull is found that appears to be in the lines of humans. The paleontologist must rest on the shoulders of a scientist whose job it is to carbon, or potassium-argon date the find. Furthermore, he may rely on genetics to illuminate the origins of the skull.  Each person is bringing their piece of the puzzle to the table to elaborate from whom this skull came from. This is an example of pulling pieces together to somehow get to the truth, but the total of the whole may never be found. Furthermore if at any time the geneticist or the person who dates the skull discovers that within their field that there is a change amongst the way they compile data, the paleontologist must in turn change his ideas of the skull. This is the Fault line in the inductive to deductive, and why the deductive part of a claim changes. It can also be stated that the observations weren’t wrong for the paradigm that the scientists were in at the time. Even though the planets are in an elliptical orbit, the explanations to why have changed over the years. This does not mean that the planets are no longer in an elliptical orbit, and because the dating or genetic work doesn’t suggest it is an ancestor, doesn’t mean the skull has no story or significance, and because the truth changes about an observation, does not make the observations any less true. It’s the paradigms that are constructed around the scientific inquiries that either makes an observation true or false. This then lends to the acknowledgement that paradigms lean on one another to compile the whole truth, but that doesn’t make it the whole truth. One can arrive at a fairly close objective assumption about any particular situation. It is finding new pieces to the situation that change it. Henceforth, when one builds a paradigm without knowing all the pieces it is impossible to arrive at what one would consider objective truth.

            It could be argued that gathering pieces does lead to the whole story, or the proverbial tomato mentioned above. The seedless tomato above could be used as a perfectly good example of tomato, and could even be used as an example of tomatoness. I would like to call this the tomato paradigm, (remember in this paradigm the tomato does not contain seeds) or T.P. for short. In a summation, paradigms are a group of ideas that build one’s worldview. There are two ways in which to approach the ideas that build up the paradigms. The first way is to box the paradigms so that they are distinct in their respects of each other. As an example the Newtonian physics paradigm is a much different paradigm from that of Einsteinian physics. It must be noted that each paradigm lends concepts to other paradigms. If a paradigm is dismantled, it doesn’t mean that the whole of the paradigm is thrown out. Newtonian physics is still used and very applicable to our everyday lives, but doesn’t give the whole picture of the world. It is much like the T.P. and can be used as a functional representation of the mechanical world. Not only that, but it can also lead to further discoveries.  One can imagine that Einstein wouldn’t have been able to arrive at his conclusions without Newton. As mentioned before paradigms lend to other paradigms. As in the paleontologist example he has to lean on other constructs to build his own worldview. What is happening currently in science is there is a division in the search for truth. Each discipline is narrowing itself, and creating smaller and smaller paradigms in order to find the truth. However, this narrowing causes the disciplines to lean on each other, and build their worldviews from additional sources. Again we find scientists building truth from abstract pieces. Again the issue is not with the pieces in and of themselves, but that the whole of the puzzle is not complete, and there is no way of knowing that there is a hole in the picture until someone sees it. Since a new piece can shift an entire paradigm, no matter how small, with all the paradigms leaning on each other this can shift everyone’s paradigm.  At this point it is easy to see the scientific worldviews as a collection of growing systems that build and grow with respect to each other. It is nice, however, to gaze at them as separate boxes, but isn’t practical do to the fact that they lend so much information outside of their own boxes, and like wise borrow from other’s boxes.

            One could say that this collection of outside sources would lead one to a position that would be closer to an objective or absolute truth. If, that is, all the information that is building a paradigm is objectively obtained. However, if the information is not complete the bias filling the holes still influences the inquiring parties.  Thus, tainting the entire collection of paradigms. In terms of searching for an absolute truth, this cannot lead to and absolute truth. It can, however, lead to workable truths that do function in broadening what one perceives as the truth, but nonetheless is not absolute truth. While the building of paradigms is not absolute truth, it is arguable that it could lead to absolute truth, but this leads to the question: what is this absolute truth?

            The concept of this absolute truth is in philosophical terms needs to be examined. Is absolute truth necessary? This question is introduced in order to put forth the idea that there is no absolute to be discovered or proven. Thus far the questions of this paper have been can we reach absolute truth through the current structures we have, and it seems very unlikely that one can ever reach an absolute truth through piecing together data. This isn’t suggesting that the piecing together of data is not useful, or unprogressive. However, the question of the necessity of absolute truth must be posed. It appears as if science does view the world as if there is some absolute truth, or even that discoveries are leading to a paradigm that will deliver the human race very close to the absolute truth. This is provided that there is an absolute truth separate from one’s subjective understanding of absolute truth. Moreover, can humans even arrive at an absolute truth with out it becoming subjective? If the objective truth is arrived at objectively would that make the objective truth pervasive in all aspects of the human condition. One could conclude that indeed it would.  That whatever absolute truth was finally arrived at would be absolutely objective. However, this is still a lens that is being looked through. Any time one uses a paradigm to view the world they are subjectively using the lens that they are holding to inform themselves at what they are looking at. I.E. it can be inferred that even if the lens they are using is absolute truth it may not be the whole truth, or one can imagine that there is still something missing. Using the T.P. example it is an absolute truth that the constructed tomato does contain tomatoness, but it is not a true tomato. We are coming very close to an absolute tomato, but our incomplete knowledge of our constructed tomato is something that will never be discovered. Our tomato is not an absolute, and furthermore if the absolute tomato is not known it cannot be considered an absolute, because it is unknown, and cannot be known within the system. Then it could be said there is no absolute truth. However, saying that there is no absolute truth does lend to a philosophical quandary. If one states there is no absolute truth, the statement becomes self referential, and creates an absolute truth. This is why one can get close to absolute truth, or gather enough information in a way that can be agreed upon to become useful, but never reach absolute truth. In order to fix the statement that there is no absolute truth, and the statement to remain true, one would have to go outside of the system. This is done in math with irrational numbers. Like wise to fully understand any system or paradigm one would have to remove themselves from it to look at it objectively, this cannot be done, thus making everything subjective.

            The omission of the fact that there is an absolute tomato was done on purpose to illustrate that one, even if they had absolute truth, wouldn’t know they had it. Moreover, the omission was used to demonstrate that there is a flaw in the overall system, for one cannot remove themselves from the system. This doesn’t mean that one cannot obtain truthiness, for the lack of a better term. In fact truthiness would be better stated as useful. Regardless if science is still finding information with subjectivity, it still lends itself useful. It cannot be denied that That Newtonian physics got us to the moon successfully. It is pointless to argue how much truth science holds, but one must recognize that science is useful, and the paradigms are useful for the time and place they are engaged in use.

            While piecing together through paradigms, or individual data, while useful, isn’t a way to obtain absolute truth. In fact it seems doubtful that absolute truth is even necessary in the philosophical sense. By employing the tomato analogy it seems as if absolute truth is unobtainable. Once again this doesn’t mean science whether obtained subjectively or objectively is not a useful product of the human endeavor.

Thoughts leading to answer that is no answer

It seems useless to assume that I will ever come to an answer of how did I come to this point. I know how I got here, I know why I thought what I did, but how in the hell did any of that happen, moreover, did I have a choice in any of it? The question has been raised theologically, and answered by philosophy, and yet the thoughts continue to arise out of nowhere. It's the causes and conditions that solidify us more each day. I beg you to question how did you arise out of these things we associate with feelings. You assume yourself to be something, and that something can only be described as a collection of thoughts and feelings, but where do these thoughts and feelings come from? If one takes the time to quiet their mind they might find it surprising that their thoughts seem to come from nothing. Your brain is nothing but an electrical black board. That of which nothingness writes upon. You watch as a feeling arises you grab on to this feeling and run. Where and how fast you run with it is up to you, but you must realize that you are not the one creating the choice. It is at this point that faith must be concluded, and that all things arise out of the need to see the self again, and yet, we only look at what arises out of nothing.

Pizza Hut

 “You didn’t call them back”? I asked.

“No, why would I have?” She retorted.

“Because of all the bogus pizza calls, this would be one. Now that it is made; I’ll run it over there, but if nobody has the money to pay for it. You are gonna owe me. Maybe I’ll make you mop the floor tonight.”

The Pizza Hut managers weren’t very smart. I shouldn’t say that. Not because they weren’t dumb, but because what does that really say about me? I didn’t mind driving the pizzas around. I loved it. If it didn’t ruin a car; I’d still be doing it. I’d listen to music and take my time. Oh, they did time us, and when it was appropriate they would give us the “You are taking too much time” speech that in all reality took up too much of our time to hear “the speech”. I would always find time to go to the liquor store before it closed and that never prompted ”the speech”. It was always around closing time that we would get “the speech”. None of us wanted to run that last pizza. Because, it was always the same house, and they never tipped. So, we would stretch out those last runs. In hopes that we would stick the other guy with the pizza to run to those non-tipping crunks. And thus we would inspire “the speech.”

So, I get in the car with the questionable pizza run. Turn on the tunes, light up a smoke, and think about going up there. I can remember what was in high rotation in my cd player at the time. The Strokes' Room on Fire had just come out, and I had just discovered Ben Folds. The album that takes me to those late night car rides and snow-ridden roads is Travis’ 12 Memories. It’s such a dark album, and those where such dark times. That was one of the perks of this job. Smokes and music when and how I chose.

I was drinking heavy back then. I wouldn’t drink on the job; I just drank around the job. I can remember countless times I had a hang over, and was still drunk, and at work. Those bastards would just tell me to get into my car, and deliver the pizzas. I want to reiterate I never drank on the job. However, I was drunk and at the job.

So, after my cigarette was half done, and a good driving tune began to play, I headed off to the current destination. It was close, but this would still be a pain in the ass.

I arrived, parked, and headed to the front door. Walked through the lobby and went to the elevator. I hit the 3 button, and awaited my ascent. The doors opened and I went to the nurses’ station. I was praying it was them that had ordered. It would make this delivery so much easier.

“Did you guys order a pizza?” I crossed my fingers.

“ I didn’t,” She turned asked the others. Every goddamned one of them shook their head no.

Fuck, I said to myself.

“I’ll open the door for you.”

I heard the buzz, and I walked through the door. Here it is.  I now stood in the third floor at our hospital, all its glory. This is where they take you if you go off the loose end, or if you just have to many loose ends. In fact my friends and I just refer to going crazy as heading to the third floor. I’ve been threatened with it many times. The third floor. Standing in this room it gave me a visual I never wanted. I had a picture to go with all the horror stories. This fifty by twenty five room held a lot of my friends. Hey, I take the friends I can get what can a man say?

I scanned the room; all I saw were gowned people. I had to think of Dennis in a gown and a cigarette. You couldn’t smoke here now, but twenty years ago…

Dennis: I was working in a semi repair shop. We had one of those old pop vending Machines. You know the kind, it held bottles. You putt he money in and opened up a glass door, and you could grab a bottle out. I’m not truly sure what he meant by that. However, I was getting the idea. There were a few of us listening to this story. Dennis always did tell the best stories. Well, we had one of those filled with miller High life. The best part was that you didn’t have to put money it. That was how we did it. We worked on the big rigs, and drank. First thing in the morning at 9 until 5 or so. Then after that we’d go to the bar till it closed and finish the night. That is just what we did. After about a year of that I got sick one day. So, I called off. About half way through that day I just kept getting worse and I started getting the shakes. So I high tailed down to the hospital. I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong. I just felt like dog shit. When I got to the er the nurse started asking me questions. When I got to the part of much I was drinking her eyes got fucking huge and she ran off to get the doctor. He immediately handed me some pills and put me on the third floor. It was the same thing for three days. I’d wake up they would hand me a handful of pills. I’m not shitting you it was a fucking handful. I’d go about my day as best as any one can on the third floor. Then right before bed they hand me another handful. On the fourth day I woke up, and the nurse didn’t give me any pills. I said where’s my pills. That bitch smiles real big and with sass in her voice said the doctor said that you don’t get any pills to day. I told her I needed my fucking pills. And she just said nope.  Then about two o’clock that day I went out to the common room to have a smoke. All I remember is lighting it up and feeling like total dogshit. The next thing I know is that I wake up strapped to a bed with a nurse sitting in the room. I looked at her she said holy shit and left the room. The doctor came in a couple minuets after she left and said son. We didn’t think you were gonna make it. You must have nine lives. If that is the case I guess I’m down to two guys.

That was the story. So standing on the third floor my mind raced back to Dennis. Trying to imagine him lighting a smoke and passing out. My mind then floated to the task at hand. The pizza.

There were about six people sitting in the common room.

“Anybody order a pizza?” Fucking-A. Sure as shit they all raised their hand high in the air. “Bet you all did. Does anybody have any money to pay for it?” Low and behold, not a single hand was raised. Alas! I would not be mopping the floor tonight!

Just as I was to turn back and tell the nurses to let me back out of the magnetically sealed door, a man came out of a room. “That’s mine.” He handed me a twenty, “just keep it.” At least he tipped.

I would like to tell you that seeing the room that Dennis passed out in helped stop me from drinking. It didn’t. See, it wasn’t only Dennis I saw there shaking and then passing out. I saw myself there. Stuck in the loony bin because I couldn’t stop drinking. I hate to say this: Drinking got me through all those dark times when I mopped floors. I’m most sure this is how I ended that night: Thinking about the hospital tipping the bottle to my mouth, thinking about how I was reduced to mopping floors, and easing the pain of a bleak future to come. Tomorrow, I’d tell myself, tomorrow I’ll quit… tomorrow…      

 I parked the car along the road. The covered bridge was close but not too close. I honestly parked the car closer than I wanted to. I was fighting the urge to walk. It wasn't super cold, but it was just starting. Had it been spring and not fall I would have been wearing shorts. It's funny how you get used to the cold. Well, I don't really get used to the cold. Only because it just keeps getting colder. I just notice that 40 degrees spring is warm enough to wear shorts. 40 degrees fall is ball-freezing weather.
    I started my walk along the white line. I checked my balance. One foot in front of the other, and I was dead sober. For a split second I let my mind wander. I allowed the black damp pavement to become a bottomless pit, and I was Evel Knievel! Not even this light brisk breeze could knock me off the tight rope.
    The moon caught in a puddle, it drug me away from circus act of the mind, and here above the two solid yellow lines; hung the moon. Even a shallow puddle of piss could shine back the beauty of the moon. I mused at this thought. I was most sure this puddle in particular wasn't piss, and I assure you that it was just rain. It had stormed the night prior, and today the fat fall clouds had misted the entirety of the suns appearance. As I approached the pool of water, caught by a poor asphalt job, I marveled at the nondiscriminatory way that the trapped water reflected the moon, and in turn the moon shone on everything around. I guess in my own way pulled out the thought that neither had anything to really do with the other. Yet, they took the time to complement each other. The moon shed light for all to see, and the water reflected back in a way I couldn't. I don't think shouting at the moon would do much good, but a sparkle of small light... It just might make it back, and make the moon that much brighter.
    When I finally reached the pool of discarded could thoughts, I tapped it with my shoe. The water moved, and the moon moved. They were in a collective dance. One so beautiful I can't describe. Beneath the moon's captivating reflection I noticed leaves. These were the weak leaves. Fall was not yet full blown. Some leaves had turned, but most had yet to. Life in a wooded area was just a few days from becoming out right gorgeous. These leaves at the bottom of this pool had taken the inevitable plunge early. Why shouldn't they? I think I might do the same myself.
    This is where I found the majority of my happiness: between the lines. Yellow on my left, and White on my right: Home. The road was lined with trees. For amusement I tried to make out exactly which one was which. From the puddle I surmised that there where birches, beach, oak, and maple there. The trees became a collective unit. The strong leaves held out the light. Deciphering the bark of each was next to impossible. This gave my mind leeway to contemplate that those strong leaves could be there for some time. Some leaves even way past winter and into spring. Holding on until spring. These strong leaves wouldn't let go until the new leaves pushed them off. I'm not one of them. I belong in the puddle.
    I walked to the bridge with a quiet mind, after that. Silence. I welcomed it. The realized it wasn't quiet after all if I was welcoming it. I lived that dual life long enough. Should I or shouldn't? There would be no more questioning. The bridge had two lanes. It was a tight two-lane bridge, but two lanes more or less. There was a walkway on each side. I choose to stay home. In between the lines. There were four "windows" I chose the third one. I hopped the rail that separated the walkers from the drivers, and sat on the ledge. I looked down and pondered my trajectory. I couldn't just push out. The bridge wasn't high enough, nor was the water deep enough. The only way to do this right would be to stand up, jump and hope I could get into the dive position before I hit the water. The only way to be sure this worked, was to make sure my neck hit in just the right place and broke. I wasn't one hundred percent sure the water was cold enough to catch hypothermia. I lit a smoke. My last one from my last pack.

I sat there smoking. Thinking of nothing. When the cigarette was to the filter, I flicked it. I flicked it as far and as hard as I could. I watched it hit the river, and the cherry died. I followed the cigarett's remains as it returned to me. That is the way the world works. An action. Then the return of that action coming towards the actor. Amazing.
    I stood up. Ready for the plunge. Thinking only of sweet relief as I did. For whatever reason I grabbed my necklace. I ran my fingers over the embossed figure of Saint Jude. The Saint of lost causes. Right there it hit me. For the longest time I thought I was a lost cause. No purpose, and no hope. Every night before bed I would play and think of Saint Jude. I would hope every night, that some how he would manifest and show me a brighter future, but alas he never did. After some time I began to believe this false assumption. This thought that I was such a piece of shit not even he cared. This is were that got me thinking like that. Standing here on a ledge. Hoping for a clean break. A clean break is exactly what I was going to get.
    So I jumped off the ledge. Not into the water, but onto the path. I jumped the rail, and got into my respective lane. This time my mind was silent. That, or I can't remember what I was thinking. Maybe for the first time in five years my head was clear. I felt calm. No, I was calm. With a smile I returned to the puddle. The puddle I felt that I belonged on the bottom of. The moon or earth had moved. I would say that both celestial bodies had. For, the moon was now cut by shadows of the strong leaves. I bent down and touch the poll this time. Cool to the touch, I set it to a dance. I watch until it once again became calm. I placed my necklace into it. The water nearly didn't cover it. The wind, as with approval, picked up a notch. As with any strong leaf would do they all danced and sang. I too will go as the wind says. As the tree leaves rustled I left my inhibitions in the puddle. Saint Jude can keep them. Below the water and the moon. As I unlocked my car... must have known all along I had plans of returning if it was locked... I thought to my self, " I will be the water. Reflecting all that is shown me. Reflecting with out discrimination. I will be like the moon. Shinning on all with out holding any light for my self. I will be like the strong leaf. I will weather this terrible winter I find myself in. I am not a lost cause. Lost causes are for the bottoms of piss puddles... and poorly constructed roads." 

Love as a refuge

I thought for a long time love was a refuge that was out side of me. Something tangible some beautiful girl could give me. Really that is all I have ever really yearned for. After all doesn't everyone want to be loved and accepted?

In the past there have been times when my outside world crashed, Financially, spiritually, and mentally. The first symptom of this is self-loathing. If the above situations start to falter the blame I create goes inward. I mean whose fault could it be other than mine? When I like some cute lovely smart girl and she doesn't like me back is it her fault? I have always blamed my self. That is why I have always loved music. It never lets me down. Pearl Jam and The Beatles are only a play button away. Just press it and away you go. Sometimes you turn to music that reflects how you feel, or something to lift you up into a better state of mind. However, music only goes so far. That refuge only lasts as long as the album does. There is always the replay option, but with anything, even Pearl Jam gets old.
There is another option. I have found one particular movie to always up lift me. This film would be The Shawshank Redemption. It sounds strange, but it is a movie based on hope. I see the town it was filmed in and my home as a place, dark and drab, but the movie as a sign that even in the shittiest times and places friends are made. Love can be found in the darkest dungeon. I'd like to argue that Shawshank is a love story. The best kind of love story there could be. It's plutonic love. However, in the end love is love. All you need is someone there to hold your hand. So, when times get rough and ugly I just pop this one in. I can't tell you how many times I've seen the whole thing, or how many times I've fallen asleep to it. It's some how a comfort to fall asleep to hope and love.
When things get really ugly it is inevitable that I'll run into some girl that just bedazzles me. I'll be stricken with some sort of need to be with her. I'm most sure that this is because I've seen enough movies to know that is how you fix shit: fall in love. It'll work out in the end. I have distaste for movies that end great. I'll have to mention the Garden State as being one of those. Things just don't happen that way. Things end, and they tend end badly. Okay, so I'll remove my self here from the current narrative. They end badly because one person leaves another. One way or another the relationship will end. In death or other wise it'll be over just give it time. I know this, give it time and it will end.
So, when I really liked this one girl, okay, it was two different ones, but both time the same exact situation occurred. So we will stick with one just to keep things a little sane. I do sit back and wonder how the hell I conjured up two different people thousands of miles apart that acted and responded the same to the situation. Maybe it was because they were catholic… Fuck that I wont blame the pope, but I will mention him.
Anyhow in retrospect all I wanted was to fall asleep to hope. I latched on to this girl. The worst part (and not because I'm assuming) because I know it to be true; she let me attach my self to her. She let me do it! Still to this day I can't see why any one would allow some one to latch one to them with no intention of latching on to the other themselves. All I wanted was to have some one to hold and tell me (even though I knew my self) everything is going to be okay. I wanted to hear it from an outside source whom meant it. I was looking for a strong bond with a female, not to save me, but to hold me. I want to reiterate that A) I couldn't tell myself I loved me. B) I truly felt that I had nothing to look forward to. So I just wanted some one else to say I love you and some one who wanted to see me. I wanted a mutual synergy. I didn't care if they lasted. I just wanted a buoy, one to hold my head above the water. Instead I found anchors that only sank me faster.
I've since learned to swim. Being here in this moment has been one of those teachers. Escape only comes from within. I try now to hug myself daily, or maybe give myself a wink. At any rate nothing lasts. I just wanted an hour with her. I'm now thankful that I only got the minute.

Taking a break

I'm telling you writing about Islam is boring today. I have had to pull out my ol' friend Stella to help me out. It's an old trick I learned at Naropa.... if you can't write, drink... you'll write. The sad part about that is that I don't get any worse of a grade. You'd think the grades would tank. BUT NO! They stayed the same hahahaha. Any way looking over some of my old poems I'm not so sure I'll be posting most of them. A lot of them written from 98 to 2000 are nasty dark shadows of was to come to be. It's interesting to know I felt that way years ago and still feel like it. In some ways I don't think I have changed much, I have experienced a great deal, but change? I think I'm just darker, colder, and down right hateful....

Circa 98 Two Inks

Imagine this piece of paper that you are now holding is the world!
Each sentence is written in alternating colors.
This is to symbolizes that even though they are two separate colors they can be used to make one statement.
 They appear to be at piece and unity in making this statement.
But the blue ink wasn't used first and this upsets it, and now it doesn't want to work any more.
The blank it thinks that the blue ink is letting it do all the work, and it thinks it doesn't want to work any more.
And so they both stopped, nothing got done, and the message was lost. If only they had stopped thinking of the "me" maybe their message could have gotten through. 
 

Poem 1998

Let me wallow in my hate and despair of you?
Why should I care you never gave me your shirt to wear.

My plain arrived yesterday I was too late.
It left with out me it couldn't wait.
Even then I wont have a date.

Some day I will leave this state.
 No matter where I go I'm always here.
Sometimes I spread good chear.
While inside I'm shedding tears.
No wonder I'm filled with fear.

Why must we depend on fate.
Used as worthless bait.
At a rate at which homeless eat of the plate.

When people come to hear.
Not one of us is near.
Making every clear thought in you head all but disappear.

ink pen 1997

We are all ink pens, nothing we can do can be erased. We just have to go on, and we cant dwell on the past, but by looking back we can learn. If we start to go too fast we might stumble and fall, we just have to get backup and go again. Life isn't a research paper, it's a rough draft, sadly this rough draft can't be changed, but for the next paragraph can be almost perfect. Most of the time we make the same mistake more than once before we learn how not to make our mistakes. Sometimes we never get the chance and the ink just runs out. 

Hello

I have had this intent for ages. I'm now taking the time to do it. Although it may be detrimental to my scholastic achievement, I'm not in the mood to do school work at the moment. A lot goes through my mind on a daily basis. And this is the place that I'm going to start shitting some of that out. I'm not going to hold back, well maybe names, but I will make up names for em'. My intent is to take everything I have on Myspace, and then I can delete the fucker. As there is a great deal of stuff there. If I'm going to be honest I might as well go back to the past and search all of that stuff out as well, and if I'm not mistaken there are some unfinished stories there, and discarded poems. I think it will be great to brings some of that back and finish it. My new goal is going to post once a week. That will be the start, whether it be a story, a poem what have you, I will dispence here I can reach the world from my chair and that is what i shall do!