november October mEp
October 27 1997
chilly morning, in more ways than one.
a phone call from a brother leaving me
i'm just going to pense, then.
October 26 1997
"this peaceful, sunny sunday morning is
as good a time as any to continue my screed.
With the morning jet fuel smell mostly
subsided, and most of the neighbors
still in bed, I can steal a few quiet
moments in the sunshine to pen a few more
i then go on to mention some of the kind
and humble individuals who have been such
great sources of inspiration to me-and they
are many. what a beauftiful gift they have
been to me, and as much a gift, my ability to
recognize and thank them. i feel so happy to
be able to cite such qualities as theirs,
as motivational to me. yes, i get pleasure
out of my own love for others.
"love isn't something you find,
it's something that you do"
October 24 1997
it chronicles daily ups and downs.
it's not a great literary work;
nor any profound insight into my inner psyche;
often, more often than not, related to sleep
deprivation, some days are groggier than others.
then there's the todays.
the confidence days. the awake days.
the buzzing around before 8 am looking
for something needed in the drugstore.
the walking down the sidewalk singing days.
the i'm here! take me or leave me! days
because i know who i am, and i like who i am.
these are the best days.
home or not, the world inside my mind
where christopher robin lives is still
far, far, away.
you want to know what that means?
it means the past is still the past...
and it only gets further.
i miss the further away the most.
"and it goes on and on,
watching the river run;
further and further from things that we've done
leaving them one by one.
and we have just begun;
watching the river run
listening and learning and yearning
run river run."
-ken loggins 1972,74,etc.
october tuesday 21
there are certain things that you never forget.
those actions, primal and primative, which evoke
such basic or instinctive reactions in us.
let's group them.
or, allow me to.
when i see veins, i am piercing them with a needle.
some are 18 gaugers, some 23, but they all must be
pierced, that red gold must flow. sounds twisted,
but i used to take blood. don't laugh, it paid very
well. of course that's not why i did it, i wouldn't
have known good pay from kraft dinner.
but each one had a different flow rate;
each skin it's own resistance;
each point where the beveled edge sat, precise.
i will never forget this,
and somewhere deep inside of me,
i wish i could do it again.
october monday 20
infusing, now i sit in the dark.
the lamp, not plugged in, has made it.
trapsing around this place;
we visited a dried lake, a damn,
saw horses, and i'm still not awake.
i'm sitting here waiting to wake up.
we drove the tangled freeways,
and eventually made our way home.
sunday was the cleaning day,
the hanging stuff day,
the cooking day.
(shh) i get the sneaking feeling
that people steal your ideas here.
i get the feeling that i am who i am,
i know what i know, and i live how i live.
you still gotta eat. you still gotta clean.
you most certainly still gotta work.
really, not too much changes 3,000 miles from home.
but what's all this about sundries?
october sunday 19
yeah, we like each other. what a feeling.
hangin'g out, cutting carrots.
i'm wrapping myself in it now,
the organization, the orderliness,
the focus that brings me peace.
the men talk; my nails are growing,
and he's got a really good sense of humor.
there ain't many times when i feel that i know the love
in the love songs better than they do;
but now's one of them.
fuck, it's peaceful here.
October 17, 1997
an actual bird chirps outside, i think i smell the salt.
working work accomplishing stuff not sure what yet;
will hopefully find out soon. driving down the freeway at night
it could be anywheres, America - payless and food4less;
who has created this mega-life? who would want such an
exageration of themselves? are they so comfortable with BIG?
we conclude that yes, it's different here.
there's always stuff to look at; new stuff; mountains, even
now that the winds have blown the smog away. the sky is
blue and the water too, and the speckled clouds of the setting
sky lit up by the big light bulb far away, so beautiful, so beautiful,
i must admit.
but it's HOT.
and it's freeday!
October 16, 1997
He's the type said she;
peaceful dreams awake me smiling;
a source of stress i attempt to shoe like a fly;
it's even less important.
These are the types of stresses i must learn to disregard.
is it possible to have such power over oneself?
It must be.
Emotion against Ego;
it is comfortable here;
my hair is too long,
we are a bit disorganized for this life.
the coffee not too hot, and me running late.
it's a new day today, remember those words.
the only day you can tend. today, poots.
it's blank, today-no matter what you've already
filled it with. it hasn't happened yet.
photos, maybe soon.
October 15, 1997
Greetings. Fully caffeinated now what is on my mind?
Learning and only growing he and I watch he and I.
Watching and waiting, and dreaming, and goaling.
Both of us teaching now, is it because we are patient?
math and software.
math and software.
that makes me smile.
7:45 now I really must run,
but good morning to the world
and good morning to the sun.
the bent become straight and the lines
a vision of tomorrow, though today is still new
while searching for answers we sway and we stick
we leave angles bended, our hearts growing think
we lose sight of goals
we drown in our own minds;
we forget what we're grabbing for
and we think in a straight line.
the day that started out sickly
is coming to an end.
less sickly now, i'm collecting
what's left of my thoughts...
remnants of what is there
pieces of what is here;
conversations wrapped in love;
the telephone calls are cheaper now; we talk.
the food's not that bad, and it really is hot outside.
if you don't think about it, we're just here.
if you think about it, we're not there.
but certain things begin to mean more;
was the point of the excercise.
certain things mean nothing,
that's what you learn.
what you leave are the certain things.
OCTOBER 13 1997
groggy morning now.
some kind of virus has entered me
and i must fight to keep it under control.
even though i slept the required number of hours
my eyes close easily, my arms ache.
i won't let it.
and a long long walk last eve;
the setting sun to our right
and on the way back,
the crashing waves in the dark.
the people talking talking as they passed us,
the football games and the dinners.
and dreams, dreaming.
stress, still, my shoulders arched.
giving me something else to think about
than what the morning dopamine insists on.
staring blankly at one spot in front of me.
my hair, once a source of comfort,
now stressful to me and getting in my way.
my energy, once focused is now dispersed.
trying to focus on one thing for long is not possible.
this is why i dispise being sick, why i avoid all situations
which might bring me here. the late nights, the stress,
the cold drafts and the crowded places. ok se then
what brings me here? oh yes, saturday night being
a hero. i am the one who knows what my body can
and will put up with. i do know better.
"love isn't something you find,
it's something that you do"
OCTOBER 12 1997
i like to sit here.
sometimes, i have a hard time
deciding what to write.
but i enjoy sitting here,
in the relative darkness,
staring my thoughts in the face.
my thoughts ramble, they dart.
one moment peaceful;
the next fearful.
they always return to places
i recognize...and maybe that is
why i like it here.
not always, but we are able to.
and we walked into the grocery
store and there they were.
a high five and some discussion
about sleeping in. a woman was
watching, how was she to know?
yet still, there is more than
meets the eye.
people will tell you things that
they themselves wish they knew.
they'll tell you who they wish
they were, what they wish they
see. well i wish i could change
that but instead, i'll just stick
to seeing it for them.
OCTOBER 11 1997
OCTOBER 10 1997
squeezing my hands between my knees
they are not cold but i am shuddering.
i am tired but i do not yawn. my eyes
sting somewhat as i sit and begin to
wake. the jet engines in the distance
tell of comings and goings, like the
bees which come in and out of the hive.
when the sound gets very distant, a
mild longing in my inner, to reach and
bring back the comfort, what is going
far away. this concept has struck a
chord now in my heart and i can feel
a saddness. i reflect on it, and i stop.
but now comes another bee home.
rubbing my eyes the new sights
sounds run through my mind.
for now they are only that, new.
neither ugly nor beautiful-they
just are. but the tastes are new too
and they are the third dimension of
this universe. the z axis, the plane
that creates the puzzle, not completes it.
OCTOBER 9 1997
the little ball starts to roll.
the first two days were limited;
i was cocooned and i can't say
whether PMS or new surroundings
did it. let's decide on a bit of
both. yesterday opened up and
started to chat. this led places.
bulding, rolling, growing.
l e t 's h a v e f u n.
what else can i say, the environment
is becoming more homey, the way things
work, less strange. more stuff goes on
here. good stuff, bad stuff - it's not
a judgement call, just a fact. oldest
cliche in the book rings true, people
are in fact people. i still haven't
met any really bad ones. or not that
i would notice.
r e m e m b e r, p e r s p e c t i v e.
"when the sun came up this morning,
i took the time to watch it rise
and as it's beauty struck the darkness
from the skies, i thought; how small
and unimportant, all my troubles seem
to be, and how lucky another day
belongs to me.
And as the sleepy world around me
woke up to greet the day,
all it's silent beauty seemed to say;
so what, my friend, if all little dreams
you haven't realized...just look around you
you've got a whole new day to try.
Today is Mine
Today is Mine
To do with what I will.
Today is Mine - My own special cup to fill.
To die, a little,
that i might learn to live
to take from life,
that i might learn to give
Today is Mine.
Like most men, I curse the person
void of peace of mind.
I race my thoughts beyond tomorrow
and vision there a sweeter time,
but as i view this day around me
i can see the fool i've been
for today's the only GARDEN we can tend..."
october 7 ...1997
|dreaming again||now of dancing strange dancing with
people watching us
and of bizarre shower stalls owned by large women...
and some time passed and some relief was had. nervous now over, i await
the effects of the infusion. waking too early, but to watch the sun come up
in a span of two minutes is interesting. the woman spoke, despite her pre-
occupied thoughts of something she did not reveal. she was kind, she was
human. the binders in front of us reminded me strongly of college days, but
the tone of her voice never so. systems put in place to protect become abused
and then obligatory. do they still protect? methinks they do. i am glad to hear
that the radiation never gets out. wouldn't you be. remember to bring cds but
you don't have speakers...or yes, you do, actually.
|dreams||dreams are what you need before reality hits.
dreams are like small puffs of images, secret shows for you alone...
the only true privacy
a quiet day overall but informative. rushing at midday to open a bank
and spending the afternoon mostly quiet, reading, writing, thinking. the
independance is somewhat surprising though very familiar. comforting too.
badged, numbered, and PC-ed, i'm all set as they say here. the differences
are really becoming more transparent as i poot along. sure, the cereal's a bit
sweeter, the beer waterier, and the bills greener...but in summation i see more
of the sum. of things. the connectivity and the similarities. no not because of
some kind of protective mechanism, but just because. we are all human, afterall.
october 6 1997
remnants of greek festivals
and nervously i await the java.
6:35 the sun still sleeps and
6:42 it's awake again. my week
of repose ended, and B's words
ring through my mind. words that
tell the truth; but i am bigger
than words, than images we conjure.
the unknown doesn't have to be so
scary, who says.
i left the comfy place.
for what? only time will tell.
and in-between, suppers of spaghetti,
sometimes. perhaps, on the barbaque;
lamb. merlot from ralphs, round the
clock. a new brita filter at food4less,
and sarks to infuse me. a balcony mop,
and one of those brushes with the long
yellow handle and white bristles.
we'll just poot along and see
happens, you and me. ok?
october 5 1997
more packing dreams.
how does it know that
the packing is over?
the saying goodbye,
the leftover tupperware,
the office mugs, the piles
of clothing. tights, socks,
t-shirts, more tights.
not running through
hallways looking for that
classroom - not running
after a missed bus.
packing, stuffing, packing.
and a short excursion took place.
still eating dinner outside in shorts.
lovely things to behold. lovely smells
to inhale. creatures to watch.
(photo links soon)
...we're still connected to that city.
nothing will change that.
that is a comforting thought.
we can be both.
nuf for sunday.
october 3rd 1997.
october second still...
so while eyes read
i'll type away. the
chidrens' sleep the
dogs at play. an
an evenin's peace
he plans the math
i lays my wreath.
a lives a change
a new abode
a settled for a spell
them planes they putt
and move along- to where
the schedule says they're gone
october 2nd 1997.
now with a valid audience,
i aspire to capture more.
more plastic, more sunny days,
more real life. watch me try.
this room is the messiest.
but with a great view of
the front door, who could
complain? being the spare
room, the garage, the TV room,
the ironing room, the computer
room and the extra box room,
it's got it's work cut out for it.
last nite some hanging took place
mapping out the walls and crannies
it's quite amazing what hanging things
will do. must be rooted in civility,
the concept of pictures on walls making
a place homier. bizarre, methinks.
making my way through a major java buzz,
i try to fix my thoughts on something.
not managing to sit on a particular style
just now, a bunch of stuff has happened
since i arrived at this place. how did i
arrive at this place. why. it feels right
though. it really does and that is a pleasant
surprise to me. contemplating a short trip
over the upcoming weekend.
gosh to put all the thoughts of all the things
and all the people who might read this is very
difficult and not even the point. but that is
how it feels. that summer, now over, those
friends-excuse me for the temporary coldness.
perhaps this font another example of it.
geesh. there's more. somehow it's thursday
already. the laundry is done, shoeracks
bought, and yummy meals cooked. the freeways
are fast, the public friendly, and sales
sales. the air is warm and often smelly.
there's an up and there's a down. it's life.
and life's alive. welcome to it.
october 1 1997.
this is october. what
colors does it bring?
like snow it falls in
wintertime and flowers
bloom in spring.
this is october. but
none outside my door;
the lillies bloom
the warm wind blows
and biting cold no more.