Is That A Sock In My Pants?

quite clearly, i have to clean my room. i think if there's anything that will make me lose my sane it's cleaning my room all the time, just to mess it up and have to clean it up again. in so little time, too. i could keep my cool if i could break.

par for the course, in the course of life.

i will golf some day.

if i have some time to vest.

if i wasn't always cleaning my room. . . you know what i need? some droo-ors. or a biggul closet.

if i had some space to waste.

oh yeah. did i tell you that soon my monitor will spit up my desk it so rudely ate, and i'll have a keen flat screen hand-me-down-down? but anyway, that's the way i like to get all my things. everything's bettul a little worn. a little worn in.

what this means is, i might have some space to waste. there's got to be a better way. a more efficient way.

. . even if i have to set up a string and pulley system.

Communion With You

you guys don't get half of what i got. no one does. i can't even talk that fast, let alone type.

you have to listen and read between the lines, as well. don't ever forget about that part.

you know, i'm told there are people who don't have much to say. i've told people about such a type. but i can't believe that. of course, i'll never know what's in another's mind, and quite obviously it's very different from mine. but i really can't believe that there are people who don't have much to say. more accurately, all we really know is that they don't say much. but they must have something to say. right? how could it just be empty.

but then again, i'm told to empty my mind. to blank slate.

i find it difficult to ascertain the common ground. the compromise. the balance. i wonder, could it be? is there none? that maybe my greatest joy is a step in the wrong direction... of course, it would be like that wouldn't it? life is the best irony of all.

i love talking to people. though mostly i do all of the talking.

i have a lot to say.

luckily for me, my job involves mainly talking to people. it's my primary task. you learn a lot about a lot of people. maybe it's maladaptive to take in so much information about so many people who are in and out of your life so briefly. and, well. it's at least unneccessary for survival. so why bother paying attention to it all?

the answer my friend is for the greater good. one more thing you know, one more part of life you have communed with is another part of the truth. it's all a part. so you've got to get to know everything and everyone and geez, that's a ginormous task. and i probably won't finish it, but damnit, at least i'll try.

the whole time battling my self, myself.

life is the best irony of all.

Learning To Fly

i've many times witnessed the phenomenon of laughter overcome a vessel of musical creativity. i had thought that i had experienced it in the past, thinking it an awkward reaction to barely audible slights of hand, due embarassment when playing in group. but this type of laughter is borne of in-the-moment-musical-creativity, not acute awareness of one's failures.

i do not get so much occasion to play with people in the past. to bounce off each other. to let the instruments speak to each other. and when i do, it is like a baby chick climbing out of its shell, and we fumble and we grasp, and we make progress. but we don't fly. but we're getting closer to the edge. tonight we jumped off the edge. and i giggled spontaneously. i was overcome with laughter. it was joyous. the adrenaline was pumping.

there isn't a moment like it. there are moments that come close. but there isn't a moment like that.

and i should jump off the edge more often.

Traveling the World

i went to india today. and venezuela. and germany. and the philippines. well, i stopped by many more countries than this, but i didn't try the food. i was out of sample tickets. my mom bought them for me.

and i tasted egypt on friday.

mmmmmmm egyyyyyypt.

i have no complaints.

if you can't get out of the country, then i suggest you at least fake it.

but i'll let you in on a little secret about the nonlocal mind: you, my dear loves, can go anywhere you want, anytime you want. and you don't have to pack or even bring along your body. it's perception of the extra sensory type.

and don't be jealous, cause i'm so not there yet. not even close. just thinking about it. just rabble rousing. just setting my headlights.

peace, dear loves.

In Hospital

it's something like doing yoga and/or meditating while washing the dishes, isn't it? while doing everything even. something like listening to the inner god always, and following the subtle clues always in our path.

it's basically the same thing since they're basically the same thing.

there is no distinction between the in ward, and the out ward. and we're all patients. and we're all doctors. but mostly it's the company of the nurses keeping us alive anyway. at least for most of us. most of us are too busy to be patients to remember we're doctors. and some of us even are too busy being doctors to remember we're patients. and sometimes the doctors are rude to the nurses. and some patients don't want to be healed. and other patients are miracles. and some doctors don't want to heal. and others work miracles.

and sometimes the doctors have so much to learn from the patient.

and then there's the mental patients who sometimes don't even know they're in hospital.

but everyone has so much potential. and everyone has a reason.

no rules.
no limits.
no expectations.

a personal healing.
a personal evolution.

and it spreads like disease.

Out of my Mind

i've a thing with my mind.
i 'm a thing in my mind.
don't know how to live when i'm out of my mind.

i'm stuck in my mind.
i'm fucked up in my mind.
can't for a moment step out of my mind.

and we all know that when we're inside all the time
we miss all that what's been going on all this time

and i can't be two places once presently
so i'd rather be now than in inside of me.

and it's easy and i know i'm just lazy.
and sometimes on top i'm just hazy.

T9 What Exactly?

am i hungry? or do i feel like i'm gonna be sick? i can't be sure.

and why is it that the pizza tastes like... well, i can't quite put my finger on it. . ?

and with all the uncertainty, why then do i feel compelled towards the already abandoned pizza, having collected an hour's worth of cold. well. it seems to have done something to control the confused stomach. i am not sure what's going on now, but i am sure i don't mind.

and what is that taste?

so i've got to admit something to you. something i'm not proud of, but am usually not sure i am doing until after. it has taught me of resolving my cognitive dissonace.

seriously. what is that taste?

the trouble with me is. and the trouble with many. is that i judge before i understand. and most times i actively try not to understand. and still i judge.

it started out with a peach.

i don't like peaches.
have you ever tried peaches?

i'm still resolving the dissonance on that one though.

i don't like mushrooms.
have you ever tried mushrooms?

and so on.

but let us get to the point. the point being that i was trying to tell you of a more recent and specific instance of my ignorance:

i hate t9 word. it has been the bane of my existance. you know cause it's set as the default when text messaging, which is already kind of a pain cause you gotta hit those damn buttons so many times and don't even get me started on missing your stop of the letter-go-round and have to go through all the letters again plus the number. i'm not sure if my sentence ended, but i felt i had to just stop it and take a fresh start. my friend has the kind of cell phone with the separate letter keys. he says that he would never text if he had a keypad like me and i tell him that i agree and i don't understand why people text and i just do it sometimes at a-freaking-ten-cents per message either. and then i complain about t9 word and how it makes my life worse, cause i've typed only two letters but there are like four on the screen cause i was looking at the keypad while i was typing and i forgot to change the option to Abc style writing - what a freaking pain to have to do every time - and that's more backspacing than you should have to do for only having typed two letters. see? bane of my existance.

what a joke. i see it now.

so today, something dawns on me and i think, well if t9 word worked this way, and i can imagine they can do something like that with programs these days, then that might actually work but it might take some getting used to but yeah, that could work and i'm gonna get my phone and give it a try.

well folks. t9 word does work. and it works like a charm. and not even close to the way that i had suspected either. it's so much easier. it's basically the easiest concept ever and why didn't i think of that? i feel so dumb, cause it's so obvious and the freaking thing is so smart and i am like pitiful stupid next to it and it's just a typing option on a phone that makes me so pathetic. also, i feel like a chump: a, because it's so easy and fast so i have been wasting my time; b, i have been so agressive in my anti-t9 stance and now i have to go back on that and you would call me a chump if i had told you as much as i told other persons how much i hate t9 and now i have to profess my love for it, you know i'm a chump, it's practically the definition, and; c, i totally didn't even give it a chance and didn't even try to understand, not like i didn't think i'd be able to figure it out or maybe that's why but i felt seriously like i was better than the program. when i am not. i am not better than the program. the way i look at it: it is smarter than me. it is faster than me. it is. it is easier than me. and it does not judge. and i am a chump and i'm pretty sure it is not. it's pretty obvious, i know.

bested by a typing option. this is truly humbling.

oh and i must also tell you that even when i thought it was the best, it got better with a cherry-on-top feature. here's the downside. my dad pays for my cell phone (insert snickers) and he is getting free texting this month cause it's some offer, and he told me not to get used to it and now i am basically in love with texting cause it's the easiest thing in life. seriously. i am in love.

and love is all you need.

and you know what? i hardly had any cognitive dissonance this time. i just accepted that i am an ignorant asshole and truly felt humbled by the new knowledge.

you know that i still can't really feel comfortable eating peaches, and it turns out i actually truly enjoy the taste? ridiculous i rrational.

i guess i had a wonderful day. seeing as though i can't complain about any part of it. and i didn't even tell you about breakfast. mmmm and sour cream dip. i won't go into detail. i've already said too much.

ps. if you don't already know t9, but i'm pretty sure the whole world is onto it already while i still move cars with my feet. then know it. t9 rules.

and question for the audience: does anyone know what t9 is actually in reference to?

Refreshing

i didn't know. it was so easy as clicking a button. refresh.

green arrows imagine an everflowing, evergoing cycle. it is so. refresh.

with every page is a lesson. with every voyeur session you learn a little something new about the mind of another. another little something of the whole. this is for the greater good. refresh.

i will change my name. or get a tattoo. or rearrange my furniture. or paint the walls. or buy a skateboard. or write a song. it is not external. just a reflection there by. only something i can do when there has been an inward transformation. a symbol. a prize. a consequence of action. a beginning. refresh.

the internet talks to me, too.

i'm all show me, show me, show me *patheti-whine* He's all showing you all the time.

i just forget some time.

if you want to be empirical about it, start recording some data. you've always known that you're on to something.

i just forget some time.

Controlling For Variables

i wonder what it's like. and if i'll ever get there. and if it's really neccessary to go all the way or if a little while down the path every once in a while is enough. or if one day, i'll not have to turn around anymore. and if that's the goal. and if so, is it just that easy? just don't turn around.

why are you always worried about what's behind you anyway? and why you gotta turn around all the time? with that look on your face? and you know how dangerous it is because you lose your balance when you do that? and what if there's a biker coming on one side and a body of water on the other? what then?

i've been in that position before, and it's not pretty.

besides, you get there faster when you just look at the destination.

i'm tired of this open concept. i'm tired of putting out everything for show. i'm tired of analyzing every little detail. i'm tired of the clutter. i'm tired of letting the wrong ones in charge.

how about a little order? how about a little direction?

a little less life so. a little more love.

but if i lived in the jungle all the time, would i notice it then? or would i have to come into this world every so often to notice the sparkle? i haven't been to the jungle in so long.

but then again, it has always been too empirical of me.

What's Wrong? What's Right?

geez. where did everyone go? it's like i'm the only one here.

i am. the only one here.

i'm not sure how people live like this. i'm not sure how we're meant to live. it's very confusing. like, who's to say what's better? like, who's to say who's right? like, what's to say that there is such thing as better? like, what's to say that only one is right?

unfortunately, everybody's got to be all well, i'm right. as if being right somehow implies that everything else is wrong..

that is right.
that is wrong.

that is not right.

that is right.
that is right.
that is right.

that is right.

the radio spoke to me today.
it spoke to me of my own narrowmindedness.
it spoke to me of my own potential to overcome weakness.
it spoke to me of misunderstandings.
it spoke to me of trusting my own instincts about people.
it spoke to me of not expecting the worst.
it spoke to me of my quickness to dismiss.
it spoke to me of hope. for myself and for others.
it spoke to me. like straight up. couldn't have been any clearer if it'd used my name. though then again it practically did.

your request could not be processed. please try again.

bored fuck fuck fuck
fuck bored bored

i am not me. this is obvious.

whoever the hell this is is an asshole. a stupid asshole. a stupid asshole with a shitty life who bitches and moans about how shitty life is while making great money with great benefits working with decent people while people die and suffer war.

i'm a stupid asshole. shake me till i break. destroy me so i can find new life.

rock bottom is still so far away. this is taking forever.

Shelter Island

i don't have it in me.

rather, i have it all in me. i just don't know how to get it out.

this is a plea. perfect time, place, person, moment type deal. you know who you are. you have the answers. you don't have to give me the answer. just a clue. just some guidance. just a sign post. possibly hidden by a little overgrown bush, just barely visible. . . but come on. something.

i feel calm. a calmness i wouldn't have expected from myself in the past. a calmness despite my situation. despite myself.

i took a plane. by myself. for the first time, yesterday. i felt calm. of course, there was the take-off. the take-off is my only problem. but that wasn't in my head. it was on the ground. in that i feel totally and utterly connected to the ground. i feel gravity. intensely. i don't think i can say that i feel anything so intensely as gravity. it's the same thing with edges. it's not in my head. it's on the ground.

i am so small. the earth is so big. and you might not notice it, but it's moving, man. it's effing moving. and that's a huge centripetal force. tell me you can't feel it. but i know you can't. i don't know many people that feel it in the same way. the slightest pressure change. the slightest change in speed. they tell me they love takeoff, it's the landing they can't stand. something about crashing and not trusting the pilot. something about fear of a little bumpiness. they think i'm crazy.can't you feel that, man? can't you feel it?!

and you're calling me crazy. pfft.

i heard a story of a boy who approached another boy on the beach: i like what you are reading. . tell me about it.

i heard a story of a boy who was in the line for the ferry and he wanted to dance. so he danced.

i've read about this boy. he reminded me so much of another boy i know. turns out the two met on a beach. the boy i know invited him home. and in true couch surfing fashion, the other accepted.i hear his father made the other boy sleep on the beach.

dude. some people just don't understand.

i learned these things on my last day in shelter island. it was too late. it's never too late.

http://www.slackerprophet.blogspot.com/

http://www.couchsurfing.com/

i'm not saying it's you. but you are a part of it. i've known that for a while.

i'm getting on with things. i'm just having a little trouble getting started.

oi vay.

the people i've been in the past week.
the places i've been.

there is too much for just now. it's all too much. and i will be home soon. wherever that is...

just wait until the shaking parts! i kid you not. you should be on drugs for this.

i don't know why that posted three times, but i will leave it for authenticity's sake. that and it makes me look way more excited than i really am. oh i mean, i am excited that's for sure. but not like a three year old. i'm excited but mature about it.

Check It

are you guys ever lucky today:

http://pleix.net/movies/Birds.mov

Check It

are you guys ever lucky today:

http://pleix.net/movies/Birds.mov

Check It

are you guys ever lucky today:

http://pleix.net/movies/Birds.mov

Bugs Bugs Bugs

it always seemed to me that come august, people did a lot of outdoor work. and more precisely, a lot of sawing with that big machine where the saw is part of the table and you push the wood through and it makes kind of a high pitched buzzy noise. i always thought that people were suddenly noticing that summer wasn't going to last forever and if they had to do outdoor work they should get on it now before they couldn't do it anymore.

that was until someone informed me that the high pitched buzzy noise is actually some sort of bizarro noise making insect that comes about in late summer. who knew?

well, clearly most people but me.

i find it strange, this insect cycle. how the mosquitos come and go in a predictable fashion. how the ladybugs come inside sometime in maybe september and crawl around the top of the wall and then die all over the house. how the june bugs find their way into my mailbox in june, and how one time i was at a car lot and it was right in the middle of a june bug infestation (ie. right in the middle of june) and apparently june bugs crave the sleazy car salesman vibe and the smell of new car because seriously, like grains of sand on a beach they were. and everywhere you stepped you had to step on them and it was all *crunch crunch crunch shudder shudder get me out of here* like the whooooole time. june bugs have always creeped me out since. well, they kind of creeped me out before.

i guess it's not so strange. we're on so many cycles. daily, monthly, seasonal... so many things pulling us in so many directions: the sun, the moon, the stars, and not to mention the artificial cycles. it's a wonder we don't find ourselves utterly mundane and predictable. but i guess chimps are too stupid to bore easily.