Paypal Test

Well here's a nice little link you can click if you want to pay me $20.00 to chant your name for 5 minutes, or whatever, it's just a test, but hey if you want to send me money, I'm not going to object.

Missing Butterrum

So, looks like my cat decided to run off last night, I was doing laundry and visiting with a neighbor, left the door open as I often do, she's quite good about knowing her boundries, but guess you can't rely on that. It just seems so strange, her to be gone, and I don't know if she's come back, but she's certianly not equipped to be an outdoor cat, being that the tendons on her front claws where sliced surgically, so that she would not be able to claw at much of anything. I have to say I can only imagine the verbal lashing I would receive from T found out. Obviously this represents a lack of responsiblity on my part, and yes I can understand that point of view. How am I going to take time to debate my perception of someone else's judgements, which could only really be my own, perceive, at this point. Appearently so, well I have to admit, I have been less attentive of the kitty, pushing her away, she's very demanding of attention at times. I just tend to take the, it's for the best, but then again there are raccoons out there, and if my poor kitty has been mauled to death, well it will be my fault. But I don't really think there is much I can do at this point. The irony is that the landlord had just posted a sign stating pets are allowed with a $100 deposit. After the just sorta blah Christmas, having my cat run, well was just as off as the rest of it. I spent time with my Mom, she was glad for the company, but I had to hear a lot of the same old from her, she's not happy where she's at, and any suggestion I offer seems to be not helpful. Saw Michael for a bit over at my mom's, as usual at Amanda's conveniece. I did get to speak with my sister Sarah, and here fragments of gossip about the others from my mom, I'm hardly quite sure what she's talking about anymore, It would be great if Sarah could move up here and look after her a bit. So my cat is missing, either she'll come back or she won't. Not really getting my hopes up at this point, I'll ask the neighbors what they saw when I get home, and see where it goes from there.

last night's dream

I was standing on the bridge over the river that run along Alton Baker park. The bridge was busy with foot traffic, and there she was, my summer girl, I was looking out over the river when she came up to me, I asked her how she had been, it has been a while, and she told me things where well, she informed be that her doctors had refered her to doctors in Mexico, that she and her boyfriend had to go down there for some tests. I held her hand briefly and she walked away, and I went back to staring out at the river.

Time again for the golden sunset

Well, running on sleep deprivation, caffination, agitation. Winter grumbles... I want to get out and see something other then the clutter of my apartment, and work...this freezing fog has exaggerated the perception of having two worlds, day time work day world, and the go home and distract myself from my woes world. Some day I really enjoy it, other are blatantly self destructive, staying up late, drinking in excess, not eating enough, or the right things. Things have been good though. Michelle is here, and it's great to see her, nice to have someone around that I know what to expect from, who is stable in her instability, I am sure that living with her in close quarters that we will irritate each other a bit, but we have this way just picking on each other a bit and then forgetting our irritations, I've lived with her before and that's why it worked, and the fact that she spends a number of nights a week out at her boyfriends house helps, a good understanding that I need my space, and so does she, now if she gets a job soon we can look at getting into a house. This past year has been unlike any other, it was rough, but not as rough as the year before. Ever since my grandparents past away, and I ended my relationship with T, I have been in a state of reevaluation, life, love, death, sex, family, self...and at time realizing a little to caught up in the self. Been working on my understanding of concepts of how people relate to each other in the community. I'm met many new people this past year and even the year before. My friend Amy, the hostess with the mostest, a lovely young lady who knows she and how to sparkle and tease, and maintain a levelheaded approach to life. We have had many sit down conversations, mostly she's been a real assest for a girls opinion. Also met some great people where I live my friend Alex, a composer/producer of experimental beats a musical genius, and a beautiful person, who I've seen struggle through some personal issues, and I have hopes that this coming year be better for him and his family. There has also been my troubled friendship with Dom, someone who has been there for me, to put me in my place, but a lot of our friendship has been a battle and as much as I love and respect as an artist and friend, we've struggled to show each other the respect that both of us deserve. One of the most wonderful things of things of this past year has been this girl who's name I will not mention, who company has brought me such peace and ease of mind, who's love was felt in every moment I was near here, who has also brought me heartache. We where involved for months before she revealed that she still loved another and was still involved with this other person, and finally I had to let go of something that felt so right but was not. I still miss her terribly and will think fondly of this last summer and the time we had, sometime you can help who you love, and it means more then just what comes easily. I also met my NinKas, Shanna, with whom I experience the meaning of reciprical, an intellectual beauty and natural sweetness of soul, my rodeo girl from up north, woo hoo. This year T, the ex finally proved that she's the biggest bitch that I ever hope to meet, what what I thinking, there's more to life then good sex, and it's certianly not worth having to bend over backwards for a control freak, that's for sure. Fuck compromising for anyone elses psychosis, mine will do fine thanks and move along. The good thing that came out of that relationship was making friends with some friends of hers who have greatly influenced me and show me love, and who's suggestion, reading material, and exposure to music has been overwhelming wonderful. This certianly has been the most social year of my life, I've met too many people to name, so of this good some of it trying, I've seen people get arrested outside my doorway, I've seen bands, played pool, taken photos, drawn, written, spent not nearly enough time with my son, too much time drinking, had some great converstation, and well lived. This last week it's been a lot of going out with Michelle, and getting a new experience of this town which is really starting to be my home. Freya introduced me to Dan who introduced me to TransMet, which I am really enjoying soaking up the bastard cynicism of Spider Jerusalem, a great anti-hero, in his search for the truth. Also my ex wife has decided to remarry, had the chance to give her my honest, yet respectful, opinion of her fiance, who is a nice guy, and my only concern was as hard as he trys he's a bit slow, then again that works for her. I thought about it today, and I know a lot of my friend question why I married Amanda, and I've given a few reasons, some less sincere then others, but she really has some qualities that I certianly respect, she fights hard for something when she thinks it's possible, and she can be very understanding and compassionate. She's tough, and so is my son, fortunately he's got his father's charm, and his mother's stubburnness, and he's a Leo. Well I guess this whole post ended up being a recap, where I'm at, end of the year stuff, there's more there always is, but it will be, and maybe I'll write about some of it....I've for quite some time, the end of the year in the term of the death of the old sun, and the new year bringing a new sun, with new opprotunities, I can only guess what they will be, I would like see some reintegration, projects and people coming together, some of my old friend meeting some of the newer ones, and a moving forward from some of the self imposed chains....all in good time.

more tales of the winter city

This town has been cover in a fog for weeks now, sun blocked from sight, and thin sheets of ice in patchs on the street. Meetings took place late in the evening in the bars and pool halls all over town. Bar stools and beer, pool shots pass, handshakes and smoke breaks, and it's all known, that the world is crumbling around us, and I can't say I'm the only one who say it coming. So I'm writing in my journal, and not even sure if I where to show anyone the word if they would be the same as the ones I wrote. My life has become grammaticly incorrect, I mutter to myself, as I take a healthy chug of cheap beer before walking over to the pool table to take my shot. I'm playing agaist a young jedi I recently met who's skill and knowledge of the table are quite impressive. We've taken the conversation of lucid dreaming and experiencing the silet sound that sings to us all. Freezing fog, and I'm calling for rain, tonight will be dedicated to rain songs, hopefully coming in with a warm from. There is recongnition is the faces of many that met on the streets of this fogged over city. And all the word I can concieve of to describe a monad of this experience of the winter city don't come close to the truth of it. But those faces know, they've seen, just as I have that as the days get shorter one day they will again get longer. They remember the summit over looking the valley below, the winding river that runs through this town, and how the speckles of light are reflected off the water on a glorious evening in June.

The work day

Another work day, here I am an hour into it, I've managed to spill half a cup of hot chia tea, hitting my elblow pretty hard in the process. 'Hello this is Zach, can I get your name, please?' Well, she had five accounts, I put a payment promise on three, and explain that an extension granted for may and june payments did not include a late charge amount. Well I've taken seven calls at an average of 4 minutes and 32 seconds a piece. That's calc (32 * 7 / 60) + (4 * 7) well a little over 30 minutes of the hour and 9 I've been here. Head it not quite clear, awake yet, I'll try some deep breathes and caffine. 'Hello this is Zach, can I get your name, please?' gv cs extn inf....shoot me my head hurts, more caffine. Ah, yeah that's right

>drink skin
You drink from a buffalo water skin.
You are not thirsty.
>eat pie
You are full.
'Hello this is Zach can I get your name please?' .....The amount that you would be responsible for is you return the vehicle is the total of your remaining payments, minus some unearned charges, rent charges, or administration fees' 'The amount what we would sell you the vehicle for is not the same at what the dealership would purchase the vehicle for which is based on an estimated auction value, whereas the amount you would pay to purchase the vehicle at this time is based on a residual value that was established on the contract plus the total of your remaining payments minus those unearned charges, now if you return the vehcile you will be responsible for any excess wear and mileage, and any open recalls would need to be completed before we can process the sale of the vehicle'
......more calls, dealers want qoutes...it's ot busy, but not slow enough perhaps to get my level on Castle Arcanum and write this at the same time, I'll hop over there and kill the drow master again, maybe get another 67 exp. Guess not. A thirty-one day extension instead. Then break. Alright I can't write any more, think I'll try to read for a bit.

As I was the wind and rains blows over me....

I was out for a walk, it was raining heavy and the wind was blustering. I was crossing an intersection just a few blocks from my house. I saw you coming towards me on the crosswalk and I let you pass. I had reached the other side of the street when I looked back and saw you looking back at me, I can't explain the rush of feeling I gave every effort to ignore. You gave me a look and made it clear that you wanted to talk. I walk back the way I had came to meet on the other side of the crosswalk, from there we walked over to a parking lot that was accross the street, you tried to make small talk, 'so how you been doing?' and my responses where brief, my feelings where push down deep. We stoped and you looked at me and told me 'you can't hold back how you feel, it will only hurt you' and as we hugged it all came out in my tears. Thank you for visiting my dreams.

restless dreaming....

After several month of not being able to recall much of my dreams. I think to some degree I've been avoiding dreaming, these last couple nights I've had some intense roaming dream images...Partially I believe they may have been induced by a decent amount of toxins flowing through my blood stream, the shot of Scotch, and what you could easily say is an excessive amount of PBR, the king of cheap beers. As I fell asleep I was first aware of being in my bed laying down with a beautiful face looking back at me, an angelic beauty who smiled at me softly, and I was washed over with a feeling that all was well in the world, and as if that was a waking moment I fell again into sleep inside this dream. The dreaming that followed consisted of Images of faces, people, places, much of it covered in snow, and much of the time I was wandering from place to place in at attempt to keep appointments, or catch up with people, partially there was a feeling that I had been left behind and was trying to catch up. The tone of the dream was the blue of the winter city at night. I remember meeting many different people in the dream. There was a point where I stopped in to listen to a concert of sorta funk/raegee/choir band, they had a maybe 20 people on stage, a lot of them just singing, there was a dj, and I don't remember was instrument, but they varied quite a bit. I remember having to leave because the music affected me, and I became uncomfortable and so I headed out bank into the cold, later I was trying to get back home and ran into a girl who was climbing some large stone steps that where as I was climbing down them, I failed to see her at first because I was very fascinated by the architecture of the building that was at the bottom of the steps. Any attempt to describe it would likely be misleading, describing architecture is something I really lack the linguistics for, but I can say it was not overly spectacular, not perhaps moreso the our local library, which is a very nice building. Well when I did notice the girl she turned to speak to me and we started talking. She was very elated that she was an actress, and she had just spent the last 3 nights performing in her first play. I asked her a bit about how that made her feel, and she continued to talk about it for a while. She also had 2 silver bottles that where rounded larger at the bottom and narrowing out at the top. She gave me one and we drank as she talked. After a time I told her I had to go and continued on my way. As some point I ended up with my ex girlfriend, who was on top of my and trying to coerce me into sex, on top of my grinding against me, I knew that she was trying to drain me and I could not allow this, she was a predator, fortunately I was able to flee when she was distracted by a knock at the door, and jump into a moment where the house was filled with visiting 'family', I has met these people earlier in dreaming in a brief daytime moment of passing they visiting from out of town. Well within moments they where pulling out all of the dishes and breaking them and screaming, so I was able to slip out, thankful for the distraction. There was more and I can't say I'm sure of the order of any of theses events mostly memory of dreaming comes in fragments. Well perhaps in nights to come I will continue to wander the twilight city.

Quizilla test results:

quizilla results moved to myspace, better forum for that type of thing

Aeon Flux

12/12/05
Yes, I know many of you have been waiting, engaging in the debate, who can play one of our favorite scantily clad assassins, Aeon Flux....we we all know there where only 2 option, Angelina Jolie, or Charlize Theron. Looks like it's going to be the latter. I haven't seen the trailer yet, but looking forward to this one. I remember staying up late and watching Aeon Flux, The Maxx, and Liquid Television, MTV's mixbag of late night animation. Never was quite sure what was going on with Aeon, here she was sneaking around, wearing next to nothing, in leather, and ever now and then getting into some twisted tounge action with Trevor, who she was also trying to kill. At first there was a disease of some sort, that I think the government was unleashing on the population, and then some wierd extra dimensional baby thing....hmm...the library needs to have this series to I can watch more. So who's going, Michelle should be here by then, lets get a group and go see it!!!!

$0(\)7-BiteMeG's Rootkit: Malware for the Masses

Part of my effort to stay up to date on issues that both interest and concern me I regularly at least scan EFFector email newsletter from EFF good for staying up to date on who is suing who over issues of Information Rights...Personally my view lean towards the side of as much of an open flow of information that is not controlled solely for profit or greed...But certainly in this day and age of the newly emerging info economy, with the pop culture engine of N0fotainment, 7eroValueData, fighting for the rights of the individual do things like blog freely, and enjoy content with value which falls between the pillar of individual subjectivity, good art, and accurate logical information uncoloured by any motivated bias....And our rights be a part of as much spectrum of the data exchange are defended legal watchdog like these guys. Well the article that caught my attention was from the 11-11-05 newsletter issue:

Are You Infected with Sony-BMG's Rootkit?

EFF Confirms Secret Software on 19 CDs

San Francisco - News that some Sony-BMG music CDs install
secret rootkit software on their owners' computers has
shocked and angered thousands of music fans in recent days.
Among the cause for concern is Sony's refusal to publicly
list which CDs contain the infectious software and to
provide a way for music fans to remove it. Now, the
Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) has confirmed that the
stealth program is deployed on at least 19 CDs in a variety
of genres.

The software, created by First 4 Internet and known as
XCP2, ostensibly "protects" the music from illegal copying.
But in fact, it blocks a number of legal uses--like
listening to songs on your iPod. The software also
reportedly slows down your computer and makes it more
susceptible to crashes and third-party attacks. And since
the program is designed to hide itself, users may have
trouble diagnosing the problem.

"Entertainment companies often complain that fans refuse to
respect their intellectual property rights. Yet tools like
this refuse to respect our own personal property rights,"
said EFF staff attorney Jason Schultz. "Sony's tactics here
are hypocritical, in addition to being a security threat."

If you listened to a CD with the XCP software on your
Windows PC, your computer is likely already infected. An
EFF investigation confirmed XCP software on 19 titles, but
it's far from a complete list. Sony-BMG continues to refuse
to make such a list available to consumers.

Consumers can spot CDs with XCP by inspecting a CD closely,
checking the left transparent spine on the front of the
case for a label that says "CONTENT PROTECTED." The back of
these CDs also mention XCP in fine print. You can find
pictures of these and other telltale labeling at
http://www.eff.org/IP/DRM/Sony-BMG/ .

"Music fans should protect themselves from this stealth
attack on their computer system," said EFF Senior Staff
Attorney Fred von Lohmann.

For EFF's list of CDs with XCP:
http://www.eff.org/deeplinks/archives/004144.php

The "legalese rootkit" - Sony-BMG's EULA:
http://www.eff.org/deeplinks/archives/004145.php
For this release:
http://www.eff.org/news/archives/2005_11.php#004146

So here I am thinking who would be interesting in this information and well the next day I get an email from someone I'm positive would want to know, and well, it was already too late:


Z,
Made a really BAD decision yesterday.. I picked up Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's "Howl" and My Morning Jackets "Z".
Now, mind you, I quite enjoyed BRMC musically [MMJ was a bit of a disappointment] but I have since discovered that
A) both of these [Sony/BMG] CDs install a rootkit program onto your computer when you click "I Accept" below their statement that you won't be able to even access the CD with your computer unless you click "I Accept",
B) all the tracks turn out to be copy-protected WMA files so iTunes won't recognise the disc and I can't get 'em onto the old iPod ANYWAY,
C) the software, which goes unmentioned anywhere on the product itself, is intended to monitor your use of the CD and report back to big brother via your Internet connection,
D) it's devilishly hard to remove, you have to jump through bureaucratic hoops to get Sony to send you a custom uninstaller file, which won't arrive for about 3 days now,
E) it creates a hole in your firewall big enough to drive a Trojan through, and
F) that in fact one has ALREADY turned up roaming the www looking for vulnerable suckers like me.

More here as well (if you're interested);
SysInternals
The Big Picture
SlashDot

There are also pissed off forums on both bands web sites...

Anyway, I'm going to sell both of these discs to a local used CD store tomorrow, and begin a boycott of both bands, Sony, and anybody else I can think of that might deserve my scorn and contempt.
Damn, cranky just isn't a strong enough word is it?
Now I just want to know how we keep from getting this kind of crap via Amazon and the like?
-IN



Other links:
Sony anti-spyware investigated by (Italian) police from GameShout 11-8-05

Boycott Sony from Wired 11-14-05

Sony recalls copy-protected music CDs from MNS 11-16-05







...Many voices in hushed tones speaking to one another, passing note, and laughing at fools, the exchange rate will fluctuate into a consistant flow, who can hold an idea, in a market of ideas imagination is the key that will free the world....

Chess

Heya, if anyone out there wants to hit me up for a game of chess. I frequently play on www.gameknot.com username: 7ach4riah. Trying to get some practice up my chess skills. I learned chess from my father when we lived in Nebraska, I remember playing games with him in his study/computer room. Later I went on to play in the chess clubs in junior high and high school. In the 6th and the 7th grade, one year I got 2nd place in Chess and 7th place in mental math, and another year I got 2nd and 7th again but not in the same event. Chess is certainly one of those games where if you don't practice you get rusty. So i'm making a habit of playing on a regular basis. Not to the point where I am calculating several moves again, but getting better and observing the board and seeing the potential moves of my opponent. Just got skooled on my last game, really enjoyed the game, could tell it was going to be a challenge after a few moves. You can learn a lot for loosing a few games, so....Anyone who want to play, please do...win or lose, enjoy the game.

Feel good Inc.

Dancing is an activity that I thoroughly enjoy, feel completely involved in. Often time the dancing that I do involves a certain amount of lubrication, consumption of alcoholic beverage, usually a few beers, and I'm up and ready to go, but since I've had reason to go to a few shows, seeing people I know play, and not a lot of on hand cash, I'm learning that even a glass of water can get me out on the floor is the music moves me. I've often thought if what I do with my feet as clumsy and unrefined, I let them fall as the will, and just happen to be able to roll, slide with wherever then land. Halloween night I was out with some guys that happen to hang around the apartment complex, one of them Marty, I've had some good conversation with, and he's talked about being a break dancer, but I had never seen it. Wow, what an art, seriously, this is cool shiot. Well, when we stopped at one of the bars downtown he had no problem getting on the floor and spinning on one hand, and other quite fantastic maneuvers. And in turn, I got up and did, as my pal Alex refers to it 'The Zach Shuffle', and it is something that is entirely mine. Well after I slid around the floor a bit, Marty told me 'Hey, man what your doing, that's not far off from being a break move, here let me show you'. So he proceeds instruct me on a move that involves alternating feet back and forth, what would start with to gain momentum in break dancing, I believe he referred to the move as an uprock. Well it didn't take much for me to pick up the moves. So hey, I learned some intro to break dancing....Maybe one of these days, I'm have moves. I danced a bit last night, and realized that I had a better idea of where my feet where going. Yeah it's fun to invoke a look of shock on the face of an unexpected bar patron when I walk up to the dance floor, and just start moving my feet.

War and Peace

let the anger be the force behind the bow string, but aim the bow

There seem to be two primary forces working inside of me, one that is seeking peace, and the other that is enraged with an endless anger. I sat one day and looks to my heart was shocked to realized that it was consumes with anger, like a flame that surrounded it. This anger at a world that was not as it should be that I had isolated myself from and shunned for it's ignorance, it's obsession with the trivial, it's lack of motivation or concern about the inequities that seem so clear, of the obviousness that there is a stream of useless memetic data that is being spoonfed to the masses. But my rage is my own, and how can I cry ignorance at the world, point fingers and pray for their slow demise, without looking inward to myself, and my own ignorances.

It was on a walk the other day, after a fight with someone whom I have admittadly wronged, and who has wronged me in kind. The realization was that I don't want to fight, well at least not that useless, over and over again, questioning things that can't be undone sorta fight. And the conclusion that I have came to many times with this friend is simply, do you want peace, or do you want conflict? What use is there in the conflict of what might have been?

On orgins, in a social context, what is the orgin of conflict, particulary in the context of conflicts of ideas....war no longer serves the purpose of ensuring one tribes traditional culture code, and wipe out an opposing culture code that would currupt one set of cultural programing. Why war?

Perhaps, on a personal level, it is a fixation on a set perception and an unwillingness to see beyond this perception that causes much of the inner struggle with the outer world. The root of anger being ignorance, or the inability to see things as they are, while insistant upon seeing things as they 'should be'. Now we all much live somewhere in the middle of how things should be and how things are. Life is beautifully ugly at times, and to strive for peace seems to be to struggle with that fact, and the acceptance that beyond the gross nature of this existance, there is something that resonates within us all and keeps this light show going.

What soul got to do with it?

So here is one of those philosophical questions, that has been ponder and will be ponder until there is noone left to ponder it, and since there are plenty of folks out there who really don't have time to waste on such pondering, it's up to daydreaming poets and philosophers to do so. Not that I'm the time of guy to sit around and fret about questions with no answer, or stress myself over forces of which I have no control, but I have giving the idea, the concept, of the 'soul' some ponderance. I remember back in high school, trading souls was all the rage, written pieced of paper stating I give up my soul in trade for a pencil, lunch money... whatever... What else is high school for. So one of the early questions for me was, do animals, plant have souls, well good question, lesser forms, lesser developed perhaps. Growing up raised in a christian church, I found that I was personally more interested in matters of a spiritual nature, and found myself quite frustrated by the answers I was given. I don't really remember much discussion regarding the human soul, more of the don't sin, or your going to hell...I do remember one preacher saying that he had never sinned, and that it was easy to live I life free of sin...Well my definition sin had changed since those days of my youth. A definition I recently came across that apparently goes back to a Greek word, is: to miss the mark. Which seems to make a lot more sense then whatever type of 'sin' they tried to teach us to avoid every Sunday. They probably were not referring to the Sumerian moon goddess, would be my guess.... Well back to the questions at hand...Soul, good god, hit me, what is soul, well James Brown that man's got soul, which gets to another idea or concept regarding soul, which is what moves the human soul is good music, music that cuts to the core of your being, music that moves you to dance...anyone who has seen me moved to dance might laugh, but I truly love it. So one of the theories regarding soul from my teenage days of wandering and manic poetry, was that of the allsoul, which is simply that, all is manifestation of the essence of original material which is the soul of the divine....Now found it quite interesting to learn later that this what basically what you will find in eastern philosophy...little did I know at the time. So what is soul, well that's a Stereo Mc's song, you know they sing, Connected, you've heard it, in all likelihood. I remember reading Ogre, Ogre by Piers Anthony, the story was about an Ogre who only had half a soul, who I guess what smart average over...It's been a while since I've read it, I was probably about 14 or so...and not really interested in Ogre girls, and likely he goes to see good magician Humphrey...if you've ever read any Xanth, most everyone goes to his castle for 3 trials, and then they get a question answered, which usually leads to being sent on a quest....Well If I remember right the Ogre is asking why he has half a soul, ends up meeting a nymph who has half a soul as well, the go into a gourd which leading the some sorta underworld, the place where those nightmares hangout when they are not delivering disturbing dreams....well long story short, do the math, ogre 1/2 soul + nymph 1/2 soul = one soul, all good there. That's a fairly classical interpretation as well, one soul became split in two, and is later unified. Ka, Ki, Me, oh my, what is my soul, would happen when I die? Silly questions. Well I have other theories, ideas, about what is up with this soul business, and reading what others have had to say about it can be interesting, but for now, time to get back to work.

ramblings

Alright, it's been a while since I've posted much of anything. Haven't really been keeping up with posting dreams, there seems to be little more then fragments. Some of them interesting, had one the other night where ButterRum, my cat, was out introducing me to people....and last night there where bits around moving my bookself, and letting someone borrow my copy of Tao of Pooh.....decided to reread the book, it's definately a favorite. Well, life has been life. Good company and conversation, financial struggles, good music, books to read, movies to see, the usual I guess, hard to just say 'the usual' because I'm not sure if any of this is or will be typical of my life. There are frustrations and joy, things forgotten and things remembered. Still find that one of the things I appreciate good company and good conversation...which can be found often when not expected. There is certianly a struggle to articulate some of the ideas that rattle in by brain, many of them revolving around themes that are personal, cultural, social, perhaps even spiritual. I appreciate when I have a conversation where someone changes my mind, when ideas that seemed so abstract but familiar are presented back to me. I also appreciate friends that will allow me to ramble about something I've been thinking about, often time the ideas aren't fully formed until I speak them. And perhaps I struggle with ideas and ideals that lack much practical value or application in every day life. Trying to stay the line of self involved, which I am, and self indulgent. And what of the future, I work, read, listen to music, interact and try to stay engaged in my own life, all in the hope that at some point it will click, I won't feel so much like it's a struggle, not that it won't be and there is certianly more to be done that will be work. So, recently I've been giving a few recommendations, suggestions, that I should make an attempt at theatre, audition for a play, that might be fun. I have a few goals for this fall and winter, basicly to get a budget, sell/get rid of excess stuff, get a few books finished, and take a class something physical would be good, perhaps a martial art.

a bit of dreaming....my arm was covered with scabby burn marks, which I went to peel away and pick at the scab, and I removed pieces of scab I found the flesh beneath was healed....

today I feel like I cried 1001 tears in my sleep, no longer certian if this is how I when I first woke up, but at some point I realize, certianly before now, that there is a deep sadness, drowned then washed back to shore, drowned then washed back to shore, time to leave this sandy place take a few grain for the glass, and move on, something is missing, feels like I've lost something, something that can never be regained...you get so close sometimes, so close, patience, that's what I've lost, wait for it, timing...

sand on a beach.... moments in times.... it's not over yet....



there is no greater illusion then fear,
no greater wrong then preparing to defend yourself,
no greater misfortunate then having an enemy' -tao de ching

nerdcore rulez.

I was coming home from work on the bus yesterday after work, and sitting in the back of the bus where a couple of kids talking, a guy and a girl, probably somewhere between 15-19 in age, well what interested me was when the kid started talking about time travel and designing house that was a maze, with time traps and floors that where side by side, a system of elevators that only when one way, and stairs that when another. Gamer geeks, gotta love it. He went on to explain to the girl about how more of his ingenious ideas. He when on and on about his house maze, and other other great maze in his game, and the maze guardians. One of which was a cube with each face being a portal, from which the cube could summon from each face a different beast, the cube also was immune to physical damage, or rather would store any damage and could in turn release this damage later on whomever was attacking it. The boy questioned her as to how such a thing might be defeated, asking if magic was required, after she gave up, he told that that the trick was to step through one of the portals and turn in off from the inside, where the control mechanism was. Just had to share case the whole conversation amused me, there where time I thought to interject, but probably best that I didn't, also remembering some of the gaming sessions I've been involved in, thinking why didn't we ever have more traps or riddles, mazes, in our games. But then again I remember the last time I played and there was a riddle trap, and everyone in the party almost drowned before we just decided to bash in the door.

another post to comment on

Well as I was falling asleep last night and falling into dream there was an image of an older man sitting on a rock, his skin was dark, and rugged, as was his face, which was smiling, it eyes where bright and intense, I stared into them and the closefaced smile, which when he opened him mouth to smile widely revealed a darkly stained broken teeth, and him countenance became frightening and I seem to be lockin into his gaze and moving towards him, he grined wider and laughed.

.....I was sitting in a chair in a room that was the office of my councilor, this was my first theraphy session. The woman who was my councilor was standing up putting away books, in a bookcase along the wall, there was a second book shelf on the wall to the right of the chair I was sitting in. We discussed book and she was searching through her the bookshelf, her demeanour was very warm and healing, what you would expect from someone in that profession, we discussed some of the book I noticed on the shelf, some that I myself had on my shelf at home. Finally she told me she wanted me to take home 2 books, that where sitting on the shelf to my right, side by side, the one on the left had on its spine, 3 letter, which this is where I question my recollection, where possibly HEW, the book on the right, was labeled FAUST.

dream of the golden book

Okay here is a dream that I had a little over a week ago, that I've been meaning to get posted, still have some back posts to finish up. Well this dream starts of with me knocking on the door of an apartment where I am visiting a friend, I am there to talk with her, was standing just inside the doorway and I was telling about the current events of my life, and complaining a bit about how I wanted a more fulfilling job, to be doing something meaningful, and just giving up my woes, and complaining about the this and that of life, which familar to the dream. As time when of the room gained more depth, and I noticed a child playing in the living room, and then beyond the living room there was a kitchen, with a table and a chair. Sitting at the chair was a man, I didn't notice the man until the woman I was speaking to told me that I should meet her husband, that he had a very unique job that occupied him night and day. As look towards the man at the table what I noticed was the book which was unlike any other I had ever seen, it's surface was not flat, but rather rough and uneaven, the book was quite larger then any average book but not in thickness, but length and width. The book appeared to be golden, but the colour itself fluctuated between glowing to dull in places, and I moved closer I was that the pages of the book where vibrant with colour, that swirled, no one page was alike, and many of then where a mix of this vibrant colour, and also appeared as ancient stone tablets covered in cuniform and runic scripts. Wife explain that her husband was an artist, and this was his art, his task, to translate from the book. Well he look up and paused for an introduction, after which his wife explained my dilemma, my general dissatisfation with my vocation, my position in life. Next I remember we where sitting at the table and he had a set of what looked like watercolours out and told me that was he was about to do would help, he started by taking purple and marking paint on forhead, the location of the anja chakra, the third eye, and then he went for another colour and gave a confused look, like he forgot what came next, and I occured to me that next he should mark the throat, but before I could speak the dream ended.

Timeline of self

Okay I would like to ask the assistance of everyone on an upcoming project, many of you may have heard me use the term 'retrodentification' or understand that I sometime struggle with laspes of memory regarding details of personal history, now I do think that we are all connected to something beyond, personal or even cultural history, and there are threads of interlation that can be followed back to earlier points of origin. So what I would like to do is develop a timeline, find a place where my personal history and the one observed by others meets up. It appears at times that when I examine my concept of self, it seems that there are to many angles for an individual to observe, for the longest time I belived I knew what I was not, and a seething resentment of all of these things was sufficient, I knew what I was not, I was not one of them.

Well I've found there to be a certian falacy in that thought, that was a projection of my own ignorances and fears, I've lived so long with my headphones on, shutting out the outside world, conversation, not wanting to make a mistake or not be taken seriously. I've been caught with the feeling of being trapped inbetween two worlds, one uniquely my own which is to me even at times both fantastic and terrifying, and then the one that is shared, and now I find that I do have to walk between the two, that one does affect the other, and there is something to be learned. The twin fold ego trap of fear and desire, beyond which there is something that is not seperate, the truth, that what I think, or what I think I know, but just to experience life and not exclude myself from that. And my concept of self is such that it is beyond just my own perception, there is something of me that me will never see, and has to be experience in that outer world the one I share with others and throught shared experience.

So the persuit is knowledge of ones self, both within the realm of a personal perception, and from the one of outside, shared experiences, and maybe just being able to better transition between the two, to avoid projecting my ideals on the outerworld, and to be able to share more of my inner world, so I just keep digging, peeling away at the layers, and this is something that althought the brunt of the work is done alone, I am constantly finding aide, and the more I open my ears and eyes to the world, the more I realized that in the words of the mantra Doma shared with me 'there is love all around' , that kinda beautiful-ugly sorta thing, and that to really life there are times that you just have to let go of anything you could think or begin to know of life and walk outside of your own definitions of what is real...

now back to the 'purpose' of this post, which is simply I would like to fill in some of those gaps of my personal history, at least just for the purpose of dissolving their hold on my idea of self, but also perhaps gain an awareness of self on a cyclic nature, personal cycles......so if there is anyone out there who can help me with putting some of these memories that I've been exploring in order, perhaps dates would help, so for all those I've lived with, and have been a part of my life and can give me some objective data, help me answer questions like, what summer was it that I lived with Michelle, or when was it that I went to live in Myrtle Creek, please email me at dimensionsofperception@hotmail.com. TY

Repetition is a form of change

the arm reaching for the my grave to pull me in is my own
a mountian of memories the foundation for a castle of dreams

transparent spider web

The spider sits on a translucient web,
the threads that support him,
instictive in design...okay so I started this post with an attempt to draw out some metaphor about a spider on it's web, or at least the web, and something about interconnected nature of blah blah, I started this post yesterday, and when I thought about it today what I really wanted to post about was my friends, if anyone is out there reading this on a even someone consistant basis, you will notice additional links added on the left, that will connect you to other blogs, part of my expanded network of really fascinating people, there is FireAngel, who's company I miss quite a bit, even the occasional disagreements and her hogging my PS2, but these things are pretty typical when you live with someone, and I really have to thank her for offering me a place to stay when I really needed one, which allowed me to recover my year spent in hell, or well one of the most boring backwater nowhere white trash towns in Oregon, and also I have to thank her for putting up company I was keeping at that time. Then Doma, the prismatic puddle, in my lifetime I could not offer up enough apologies for all the horrible things I have said, you been my best friend, and given me the chance to learn to be a better friend in return, and your mantra,you are loved and there is love all around you, which has helped, and for the curse, which well, hey maybe I deserved it, and thanks for laughing at me when I have been ridicolous and not taking me to as seriously as I've sometimes been known to take myself, now get outside and go for a walk or something, read a book. Also, Shar, one of the most hospitable people I know, I her to thank not only for a place to stay, but also for many hours of conversation on topics from the mundane to the esoteric, and for much good council. She to like many of the individuals that have woven themselves into the thread of my life, particularly those of us that are in our mid to late 20s, is also on this path of change, with the end of a relationship, and a new life ahead. Demongund, hasn't been blogging longer then I have I believe, and I've had a link up to his site for quite some time. My friendship with John has been one of mutual respect, and mutual interest, we both where DMs, storytellers for our groups of roleplayers, so much has changes since those days of sitting around rolling dice and describing monsters and god, demons, and arguing over the rules of the game, yeah there what more then a bit of that. John my respect for John goes beyond his ability to lead players through a tale, many of which he conjured up from the depth of his dreams and nightmares, which has always impressed me, but also because he really is a fair and decent guy, who despite his demeanor of utilitarian self interest, really does care about deeply for the people in his life. So that's a bit about some of those people on the threads of this web, to which I have links on this page. There are so many other lifes that have intersected with mine, friends, coworkers, relatives, and so many have added in so many ways to my life, either by just tollerating me, I look back and realized that I was pretty self absorbed at times in my life, so to those in that web, where part of the inner circle or outer ring, thank you.

everybody gets it, in the end...

today I woke up with little doubt in the possibility of a multipliticy of hells,
most of them not so unfamiliar, there you are sitting and your desk, staring at the computer screen, and thinking to yourself, what did I do to deserve this hell,
well, may of us are just lost, few of us are aware that this is a choice, not one made for us, but one reinforced by the individual, the choice, trap of our own choosing, not to say that it is not possible that there is such trap, such spendid hell that would be worth an eternity of torment, the romances suggest as much, so many choices, so many path, but they all lead back to the same point, and the circiut continues, If you could span the gap of the infinite realities, and find the you that exists in the highest state of bliss, he would still be entrapped in one of these hells. Sarte says hell is other people, I belive it has more to do with the process of differentiation, or the inescapable feeling of seperation, which is only at rare moment overcome in this life, love is an active persuit of shedding the ignorance of this differention, seeking those experiences. I know I have tried to express this before but I think one of the most beatiful loving expression of life is the smiling face of an elder who's has eyes with the depth of many tears, something I associate with The Blues, and great blues performers....I have to say it took me a while to get the blues, when I did it's just sorta hit me, like oh, something very different from an intellectual experience, that touches the depths of the human soul, and again shed the illusion of seperation that traps us in this field of time and space.

there is nothing left to do, just hold your breathe and hope it's true that we'll arise

seem to have misplace the box to the game of everything in it's place

I was once on a midnight walk with Ben, in Cottage Grove. Ben was an very interesting character, a cynic among cynics, who considered most formal curtosies with contempt, his manner would was considered quite rude by most, he was prone to a number of compulsions, one of which was to curl up strips of paper. Well, I the instance I was getting to was most likely like any number of nights where we where debating some issue relating in general to the world is really f-d up, social inequity, or some fictional history related to any number of roleplaying games, or character concepts, well this night our conversation was interupted by an old man on the street, we had not heard him approach, I belive he spoke to us for sometime, but the words that I remember are this 'growth comes in spurts, and this is evident in the rings of a tree' , from which you can see the amount of growth with each passing year.

a prayer of the finite

I don't know if I can do this, been positive of my uncertianty for so long, from chaos I was born, and nursed on a flame that flickers around my heart, what beast guards my soul,
I feel there should be some purpose, something more then longing, something more then clever self deciet, how can I trust this, I have woken perfectly content in my dreaming to long, chased by memories of a wretched beast, and everyone smiled and carried on like there was nothing wrong, and now, there seems to be something more, that the questions that have lingered, and if there is some understanding to be reached, for all the lies that they preach, something of a purpose must exist, some goal more then the one that will be discarded for the next, some hand that hold mine tightly as I breath my last breath...

don't let that stop you

well its been a few days since I have posted anything, feel like I've been avoid it, I do have at least one dream I would like to explore, which to me vividly illustrated a personal insecurity, one that I can't claim to having been consciously aware of. But that is the nature of dreams of a gateway to the unconscious. Honestly I know I'm not saying any that hasn't been said before, some of the thoughts that I find so profound at times do seem a little cliche, like yeah but everyone knows that, but for the is just that I get it, or it click in a way that seems more real, more applicable to everyday life, or I feel that tingle that runs throught me when something just hits and everything is good, there is a clear path, all the doors stand open. Now there are just as many if not more moments of uncertianty, like am I supposed to feel this way, like the world is senseless and no matter what you believe it is just a trick of the senses...I know that there is no peace found just by letting the gears turn, but that doesn't mean they won't turn...the more I study the more I find I am embracing a philosophy that has always been my own....

Part of personal journey has been to confront the me of a decade ago, or at least that became part of, along with ideas of family and home, and that his taken me back nearly a full decade to the point where I confront the me of that time, which I try so hard to love, someone I have wanted to destroy, been ashamed of, and now that I have pictures recenty aquired from my mother......I have struggled with memories of my past, feeling like there are too many gaps, my brain learns to quickly to wipe, block off, repress, and start fresh, many cycles of rebirth, transplants, see Metamophosis.... I can find parallels which the person I was, the manic poet, who was grasping at some explaination for a life that seemed to be so wretchedly cruel, filled with people where so easily deluded by obvious lies, I was filled with a rage I had learned from my father, a man who to me seemed to be so frustrated with his inability to live the idealized life that he imagined for himself and his family, I thought I knew something then, I think this is typical of being a teenager, knowing something they don't, and I did, or so I thought, but also I struggled with that anger, found ways to channel it, prominently was writing and music and romantic obsessions....I remember days when I would walk and words would just come to me one after the other so quickly that I didn't have chance to remember and write then, and when I did stop to write they seems to flow faster then I could have spoken. I spent at least a year writing like this if not more, spend much of my class time writing instead of doing any actual class work.

Well here I am, looking backward and forward, trying to confront my fears from both ends, knowing my ignorance, is my responsibility and blaming others for theirs is just falsely justifying my own.

a dream

I was in the desert with an old man, and we where climbing a mountian of sand. It is possible that there was another with us I get the impression there may have been, if so it was a young lady. There where obvious foot and hand holds that stuck out, curved ridges that could be easily grasped. As I climbed I started to climb faster, but it seemed as if no end was in sight, and the climb was almost straight up. Stopping for a minute I realized it would be a long way down, then I realized that I had no time to stop because the sand would not hold if I stood still, and I would fall.

this one tear will follow another

it's not the road ahead,
or the shadow of trail that has lead us to this moment,
nothing learned, nothing known,
all blind of virtue, shouded in false belief,
should we live for a dream, or dream for a life,
will any words speaken in any tounge grant passage ,
move slowly, caution, study and observe,
re-read the virtue of not knowing who you are,
remember the two lines that intersect,
all roads lead to one ends,
many paths, many branches, many lifetimes,
have these questions been asked,
why now struggle,
the body remembers what I have forgotten
no need for hesitence, let is pass
question each step, take each step,
let the tears wash away,
I will feel my pain.

I call for rememberances,
give me passage through the storm
let me not lean to heavy
those that offer their strength
take time to reflect upon those eyes
that sees thought the torrent

I call for dreams,
herald me to sights unseen,
deeper threads of the mystery
pieces that where damaged, restored
a wall comes down, a false god dies

I call for apologies,
to those that deserve them,
old wounds buried deep in history
some scars fade with time
tears cleanse hearts mend

I call for redemption

funeral dream

I had this dream a few days back, or nights rather, the details I remembered on waking are vague so all I can offer is a rough sketch of what I dreamed...even the order of events I am uncertian, but it's a dream so it all could have happened at once, or really time is not realevant. at one point I was waiting outside a towering building, what looked like it could have been one of those building that firefighter's use to practice putting out fires, only much taller, the proportions of the building seen to alter at different points in the dream, I was waiting for old friends, I remember that Jonas and Jessie did show up, but there where other's that didn't Brian and Josh, this makes sense since they are in the Navy, and I have not seen the in several years, I think others showed up as well. At another point I was running up a stairwell that seem to go on for quite some time until it opened up into a room with a large window, outside the window was a woman in dark robes floating in the air, her face was one that I have become very familiar with, a form of angelic beauty. I believe this figure was trying to tell me something, but I don't know what it was. Later I was walking around to the other side of this building to where I was supposed to assist with burying my grandfather, but when I got there it was too late, he was already in the ground. So I sat next to my father while others spoke. My father was poking me in the stomach, with long finger nails, not intentionally cruely, something he thought was amusing but I did not, I was as a young boy, and I in turn took his fingers and popped the joints. The response to this was affection, and I was pleased, althought I meant to act in retaliation.

chess lessons 00001

As soon as you get in a position where are convinced you are either winning or losing, this is when you will make a mistake, you have lost your focus, so play the game keeping in mind the potential of each move, avoid the mentality of win or loss.

we live and breathe the soundtrack to our life

change of local circa 95ish

what brought be here, you may ask. And by here I don't just mean this moment in time, this point in my life, althought I have been considering that a lot lately, it's possible a clue to that mystery will be presented here, but what I am refering to is this place, Oregon, about a decade ago. It seems like ages, and starting how different and yet the same I am, everything is. The simple answer is a 3 days on a greyhound bus, 2 packs of cigarette, a couple of carry on bags, I believe 3 other bags of luggage traveled with me on this trip. It seems that my father chose the worst time to send me away. It was the week of the high school prom, and althought I had already dropped out of school, I was planning on going with Dirni, my girlfriend at the time, and a group of our friends. There was also a KMFDM show the following weekend that I was hoping to go see, but he had bought the ticket and I had no choice that I could see at the time. I had a good group of friends, many of them where involved in the writing guild and enviromental clubs I was in while attending school, most all of them when by handles, codenames, there was Autumn Silver, Silence, the twins (thing 1 and thing 2 as they where commonly refered, Steven and Karen, Dirni of course. Most of us where writers, poets, readers of Anne Rice, scifi and fantasy. I was refered to by a number of handles myself Bloodlust, Tizoc, Stylor, I would have to say this is before the days of Chaosguarian. Many where used on dialup BBS's that we used to communicate and play games, I was a forum op on one, called Centrifugal Meltdown, if I remember correctly. I was also associating with other dropouts, musicians, and well that not relevent to the story at had but lets just say my future here could led down a path I would not like to contempate. I think my father came to the final decision for sending me when me away after learning that I supported my mother leaving him when she did. Having been witness to the beatings she took and been a brunt of my father's violence for a number of years, of course I supported her. I can't say I was doing much to further my life at the time, I wasn't working I was mostly sneaking out and going to parties and spending time with my friends. My mother had been kicked out of the church, which I had stopped going to myself, another reason my father didn't want me around. His hiporcisy, thier hiporcisy only furthered my contempt. Somehow it was her fault, she was an adulteress, despite the fact that she did not start seeing anyone until after she left my father, because they where still married. At this time I had began to study Tarot and Astrology, and had read up a bit about the Wiccan, and other pagan religions, as an alternative, and also started reading existensial philosophy, such as Sarte. I remember there are things I had to leave behind, I did not take my copy of the complete hitchhikers guide, or a Doctor Who graphic novel. There was a few other miscellanous artifacts I remember leaving, such as my breifcase that was spraypainted in tiedie. I remember trying to spend as much of those last days, after I found out I was leaving with Dirgni, she was a very sweet girl, an amazing artist with a soft voice and soft demeanor. To take with me she made me a couple tapes, One with a copy of The Lemonheads, Come on feel, and Mazzy Star, don't remember the name but it's the album with 5 string seranade, and a mix tape with some Simon and Garfunkel, and Don Mclean, more then likely I still have both of these tapes. Dirgni would and I would spend hours on the phone and I remember that on a number of occassions she would read me Grim's fairy tales until I fell asleep. I often spent hours talking on the phone, from which I was perpetually grounded, it was a way to stay in contact since it seem nearly impossible to get out of the house, until I learned how to sneak out of the second story bathroom window.

The trip itself was long, I remember not being able to sleep for the first day, leaving Texas. I remember the night sky in Arizona, one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Passing through Hollywood at 2am. The LA terminal, ugh. Many layovers, stops and McDonalds. A lot of listening to my headphones, some writing, playing cards. I believe at one point I did engage in conversation with a fellow traveler who was going to San Diego. I remember the transition of scenery from California to Oregon. And seeing all of those trees, the hills, the beauty of it. I arrived at my destination in Cottage Grove, Oregon, early in the morning if I remember correctly. My grandparents, mother's parents where waiting to pick me up. I was going to live of their farm, 40 acres out in Saginaw, on the top of a hill where they had lived most of their lives, I had lived there before as a child with my mother while my father was in Nebraska looking for work.

This would be the start of a whole new life, a long period of solitude, long walks in the woods, with Chelsea a half greyhound half lab mix as my only companion. I took to writing and reading through my roleplaying books, one of the hobbies to pass the time was making RIFTs characters, a very drawn out process would could take hours, since many of the skills gave attribute modifications. At first, for several months I recieved lengthy letters from Dirgni, she even sent some artwork, some I still have. I was to spend my day, woken up at 6am every morning assisting my grandfather with farm chores, a lot of this involved loading and unloading wood for the wood stove, and finding shorts in the electric fence, chasing down cows when the got loose, and helping with various tasks in the garden. Gardening was my grandfather's passion, and his garden was extensive. I spend a year only going to town once a week when they went in for groceries. I loved the oregon weather, I was fond of the rain, always had been, it seemed so cleansing. After a year I decided with the help of my Uncle John to enroll in high school, this was my chance to get out to meet people. My grandparents where also very conservative Christians, and it was not optional that I attend sunday services, I remember faking ill on a number of occassion to avoid being there, and when I was there if not napping I would engage myself in writing satire such as the 10 commandments of Kermit. When I was able to say home I would surf the sattelite tv and often settle on a Columbo movie, which I really enjoyed. I eventually did make friends with Josh, a younger kid who lived down the hill, we would wander the woods, I introduced him to Dnd and the Magic the card game, I clearly remember the time my grandparents found my cards and tried to burn them convinced of their satanic influence. I at one point tried jacking into their phone box and running 75 foot of phone cord to the computer I bought from John's dad so that I could attempt to dial onto a bbs. Can't help but miss the good old day of pre internet computing, with classic Door games such as TW2010.

Well there are many things I could say about the time I spent there, it some ways I find now that I miss the issolation of being surrounded by forest. I learned a lot while I was there, I learned a work ethic form my grandfather, who was always at a task, something to contrast my father who obviously hated his job, and well I can only imagine his life. I am glad that is where I ended up as difficult as it was, life I mentioned early I don't know where else I could have gone if I had stayed in Houston. And well the smell of cow is something you can get used to but they are truely one of the dumbest creatures I've ever seen. Since the passing of my grandparents this past year I have thought much about that place, and what it meant to me. I hope to revisit their property sometime in the near future and hope to have something more to say about it.

when walking up hill rocks roll down

Sometimes all it takes is effort, I almosts lost my job today, or at least my position on the team. The effort that I've been making the couple weeks saved me. It was noticed. Once you start making that effort again, start that uphill climb that's when all of those forgotten challenges those monters you've tried to hide from let you know that they are still there, still yours. I know it was my own decision to make this start again, to take those steps I have told myself to take, listen to the whispers of dreams, regain footing on that ledge. And today I find myself in tears broken down, dodging, and having to decide to pick up that heavy armor, carry the sword of self authorization, write these words, and remember all those words spoken and unspoken that where offered up with love, despite my fear. I may have lost more then I know this day, and I will except that, and continue. So many of the people close to me may never know thier place in my heart, I hope one day to be better at saying the right words. So for now. Thanks.

I should have hit.

Okay, here is a story many of you may have heard already, I will tell it as true as I can remember and try to throw in any details I can. I am tempted to rush through it and get it done. This is a story of defeat, fear, perhaps weakness, for which I find strength courage and some triumph in the telling. Perhaps I can throw in a ficticious ending to make it more exciting we will see. Many details I do not remember, the event took place in my latter days in the hell I refer to as Spring, TX. I can't say what time of year or what much else other then I remember I had just come home, and I came in throught the back door through the kitchen, and was heading towards the stairs to go to my room. I don't know what it was that my father said, or who else was in the house at the time, I only remember me and him, but now that I think about it I am sure others where there because, I had grabbed a piece of cherry pie to take with me to my room. Whatever it was that he said my response was 'asshole' , that was the word I spoke as I headed up the stairs toward my room. Next I remember he came up the stairs after me, he was angered by my show of disrespect, a disrespect that I had felt for some time, a contempt even for this man. I hated him. What I remember next is that I had enought time to place the cherry pie on a wooden desk chair, the old style school room desk chair combo, that sat next to the corner of my bed. When he made his way up the stair I was standing in my door way inside my room, him in the door way just outside my room. We stood face to face, I cannot say what words where spoken, but I remember that fists where raised. Eye to eye, each with a raise fist ready to strike, I remember the struggle that I felt, the interal questioning, can I hit this man, he's my father, that would he hit me. I could not, was it fear, was is some semblence of respect that I say I didn't have, a weakness, cowardice. It seems like we stood in this position for quite some time. And then it happened, he punched me, I was across the room and on that chair, covered in that pie. I could not believe it. To this day I my collar bone is still a bit out of place, from this incident, it must have hit the chair when I fell. This wound is a reminder, a scar that may carry with me for some time. I have thought much about how many times I backed down, avoided confrontations such as these. How much of my contetions towards this man sprung from wanting to defend myself, my mother, my siblings from the violence of this man. I have some understanding of what it take for someone to live like this with such self loathing, fear and insecurity that he must compensate with violence, and I do everything in my power not to be that man. So maybe the answer is not that I should have hit, maybe I was the stronger one for not doing so. Who can say.

six underground

Something simple I grasp for, never wanted more, never thought I should
can't take back, can't be undone, is it best to forget and just go on. Woke up angry and tired frightened and alone, all lies, and you can't cure me of any of them. Banging my head against a brick wall, It's so easy to just be so wrong. I can't do this to myself. Why won't everyone just go way. I don't need a fan club, an audience for my destruction. I dreams the night before last of a lover and friend, who while haunting my dreams has now words for me in daylight. In the dream she came to warn me of another of her of absense and void, loss....I think I know what she meant. I must choose a mistake, for myself, what will you choose? This is not my world, this is my life, and the choice to suffer for it is own. Back to that word, resolute, I guess it also means a willingness to stick by a decision, even knowing it might hurt. Forward is the only way from here, straight through to something different, this is not the time for statis, this is the time for growth, so where will we go from here...every day it feels like something left behind...but the road is long...I seem to keep coming back to this one simple thing, beyond all of the frustations of the day, like a grain of sand, or a tear welling up in the corner of my eye...something that is as vast and infinite as a single moment, and a slap in the face for trying to reach beyond that. I want to appologize but maybe that would serve no purpose, I want to undue the hurts and unravel the mechanism...all these words are just that...so I am fin.

....and resolute

so maybe this is one of those words that I could use some better understanding of, so I reach for a definition or three. Resolute: firm in purpose or belief, firm or determined; unwavering. So how to stand resolute, firm in purpose.

engaged and resolute

so these are my words of wisdom for the moment, sifted bits of inspired words that I have decided to fix in a given position so that I might come back to them and a later date and be reminded they where there. My life right now, well for quite some time as seems to be about a disillusionment of persective, a disintigration of what I thought I was, now I'm not so sure if it's about building up or tearing down anymore, but certianly it about being involved in the process, something my friends have heard me mention 'the dialog' which I see as an endless conversation, much like the axiomatic concept of 1>~<1 'the argument', there are some things that we may never agree on, if fact true agreement 1=1 nullifies the equation, A DJ friend from LCC was fond of the phrase 'I'm not like you', and you know what who is, who needs to be, the thread that ties up all together need not be so evident, and you could argue all day the differences and simularities, that's not the point. The point is that it is possible to touch the thread recognize our differences expand well beyond anything we might be able to ever know of another person. There are many people I have thought I've know well, only to find that I knew a preconception, an idea. Change is the only constant. Wow I think i'm off topic again, suprises there, but engaged nonetheless. One of my fascinations of late has been ideas of man machine identity nature culture society, of which I will write more. I'm still sorting, this reorganizing for me is also personal, it's reclaiming the parts of myself I've buried or ran from, it's about staying engaged, it a process of self discovery, and resolved to make something of it, what yet I'm not sure, and I can tell you the process itself at least is going from being something totally scatter to something that at least I can envision being a variety of interest, ideas, concepts, projects, that are a network of some sort, an extension of myself somehow. I have often been quite to excuse myself from the resposibility of this work, this art that is my life. And yes I guess I am an artist, I mean what other time of person would take recordings of the sounds of a soda can being crushed, or draw all those circles....and an artist I once met told me that the responsibility of an artist was to be a witness. To perhaps add illustration to the world, smash the mirror and glue the pieces back together. I promise I'll be getting to the interesting stuff soon, stories of personal fear and self loathing, of overcoming ridiculous misfortune, and more the likely a lot of fragmented abstractions, and try to avoid getting beyond my scope for the time being. Well to all I would like to say, take care.

lately I have been doing a lot of digging through the treasure chest of personal memories. Memory is something I struggle with, it seems that I have manage to learned to repress many of my memories of childhood, and since I have spent so much of my life trying to create that gap, to seperate myself from them, from my family. There are things that I do remember, and there are things that I really just wish I could forget. But one thing I have learned as I throw myself out into the community and start to try to relate to other human being is how many people's self identity is strongly grounded in how they relate to their families. And as I try to explore my own sense of identity, and I have to answer questions about my childhood things get fuzzy. I would like to think that somewhere I have pleasant childhood memories much like everyone else does, they are surely those little gems that are buried under the muck. I was more then content with that seperation for several years, I moved away from home when I was 18, to live with my maternal grandparents. It was the day after my 27th birthday, in February of 2004, that my grandmother passed away, the cancer had spread to fast despite the surgical attempt to remove it. My mother, and 2 of my sisters came to the funeral. This was in the wake of a relationship that was already in decay, me grasping at treads of understanding on many personal levels, and feeling like I was in a fog of confusion about much of it. So this experience of death, and loss happened on many levels, and memories of my childhood resurfaced to haunt me. So, as I take a intermission from dreaming, I will be posting of some of those memories, of family, of home, childhood, and perhaps even some more recent....with the hope of discovering something buried beneath the surface....

another day on this road I travel

There are some answers for which all the libraries in the world, all the words, compiled and cross referenced, will not reveal. Some places in time that some how seem clearer and more real. Of late, it seems that to climb is the only way to go, despite the almost inevitable chance that a decent will again follow. This also means confrontation, and an end to certian allowances, trades for convienience, because do demand more of myself means reclaiming something back from those that have been allowed to pick at the pieces of me for which I cared so little. Digging at the roots so as to replant where there is room for growth. The well is deep, and the waters that run are infinate as time itself. Who is there to blame? If I knew what I know now, I would never have been where I was, and then where would I be now, if not here? Beyond any single moment, a life composed of many, memories, sacrifices, mistakes, unspoken treasures. I remember the dead day, and the transition to grey, living in a space to small for me with no room to grow, but my home my shell is cracking, and the air is sweet. The trails that lead forward, lead to trial know and unknown. So what will me choose the secret or the mystery? It was over a year ago that I looking into my heart and saw the anger that still consumed me, that I allowed to seperate me from the outside. Since then I've tried to hard to kill it, knowing that it could only bring pain. Sought to heal myself to isolation, to lock myself away from any who would get close, but some healing cannot take place in isolation. Some anger is justified, and somethings are worth giving up life for. But also accepting death and living life is true courage, why be one of those that is just waiting to die. I can't make assumptions beyond my own capacity, but I can attain live within my own capactiy. Breathe.....perhaps I've said to much, perhaps not enought, but for now I shall remain silent, the play continues, some of us have made perdictions regarding the upcoming scenes, no matter what the outcome I'll be there....

intermission

popcorn, peanuts, a spectalular dissillusionment, a future found in my past, the machines ciruitry is gutted and rewired, a short nap, I was proven wrong, what a wonderful feeling, dancing in the eyes of worlds that await.....

If I saw me would I recognize me there...

John and Bill showed up friday night, the initial plan was to go to Tsumani's, a dance club, there failed to be any cohession there, and I was certian they charged a cover charge which I at least could not afford, so we got beers, and slowly the rest of the old gang showed up. Tom and Char, Adrian, Brian, and BJ. John was excited that he had finally read Dune, apparently from an early age him mother had said he should read it, then his sister, and then me on numerous occasions. So I was able to have the discussion of the meaning of Leto's golden path, the horizon beyond which the great sandworm could no longer predict the future for man, his role as a God became obselete, this to me is about free will in a way, and symbolic of living beyond a calculated destiny, over the horizon of forsight. We also discussed the question of what was the origin, and how did the Honored Martes evolves out of the scattering, which I believe that they where Bene Gesserit originally and when their supply of spice was diminish they had to find some alternative way produce the chemicals necessary to extend life and there abilities. They certianly differ from the bene gesserit by quite a bit, but still the aim is social control, Bene Gesserit's use religion, whereas the Martes have developed a system of domination through sex. The other big questions for me is Duncan Idaho, who is perpetually cloned throughout Leto IIs reign and beyond. Why Duncan, and I would say that he represent the characteristic that Leto has lost, humanity, particually the noble Atredies traits of loyalty and self sacrifice, what Leto was trying to save but could not be. Adrian explain a bit about dual core processors, which was also very fascinating and I was able to draw analogy to the binary nature of the human brain with a chip that had a dual cpu, each side specializing in different type of processing. I enjoyed spending time with some of the people I've known longer then anyone in this area, people all connected by having spend much of thier lives involved in roleplaying games, reading and video games.

Later that evening much of the group left, and BJ and Bill decided that we where going to go to Tsumani's a dance club. Bill bought me and AMF, a pretty burly mixed drink that was blue, and between sips I spent a good amount of time out on the dance floor, totally into the dance, something I thouroughly enjoy. We left around 2, and I got home and was online chatting for a while before I crashed, ended up an online conversation about geology, I ended up helping someone with my web researching and finding links about a fossil formation, don't remember what it was called anymore, but it was prevelant in Michigan, and I believe even the Michigan state rock.

Saturday I had to work, somehow I manage to do alright working on only 4 hours sleep, something I do perhaps a bit more often then I should. Saturdays aren't really that busy anyway, so I had a chance to read and setup site meter for this blog, think I got some posts in even.

Well Saturday evening, I got home from worth and there was a message from Bill saying he would pick me up between 7-8, we where going to a bbq party at Frank's, in Cottage Grove. This ended up being a really fun party, again John and all our friend, and Frank, and a bunch of his friend, so over half the people there I had never met before, there was a bonfire, and a really neat tent setup with sofas and a table.....(to be continued)

where am I now?

Well at this point I can say that I am uncertian how to approach life, perhaps I spend to much like trying to decided on a method or avoid one altogether. Moments of clarity led me to the realization that I think to much of the world in terms of the human race, or the human condition, and seeing it as somewhat disfunctional. This mode of thought separates from the realization of the natural world, in which humans are a part, but our play is nothing compared the the beauty of the stage upon which is it carried out, from the savage brutality of it to the simple beauty, flowers for example, and in contract, what is the human drama compared to the magnitude of this, and we as much a part of it. I feel myself tugged back and forth like a pendulum, from persuit, activity and avid attention to life back to moment of doubt and time passing without real recollection or even interest. One week filled with quite walks and thoughts of life and the future, potentiality, and the next with what has come before defeats and failures. The future is as unknown as the recollections of the past are inconsistent. This never turn out quite how you expect them to. But where do I go from where, what it is I want for myself, I pretend to want nothing, that my needs are simple, or that I am not worthy of much more then the little bit of space I have left, my quiet cave....have I always lived like this, no in many ways this is more real then any previous incarnation. Perhaps I try to hard to seperate myself from my youth, as I struggle to find some piece of it, of me that is consistant, that has not remade itself. I started out on a quest for origin, and I have made many guesses about my nature...about my 'self' in all is variable forms....angles which even i cannot see or begin to imagine, so why do I play at this, if I unravel all the layers what is left, to realize that it is all a construct, a clever fiction, then why not play it for what it is...well back to work, because there is work to be done

choclate cake and cellphones

Well had an interesting series of dreams last night, the first of which I can recalled had me in conversation with my ex-wife, in which she told me she was having another child, the whole thought of which is just not right, fortunately hours later I remembered that she is incapable of having any more children because she got surgery to take care of that. Well in the dream we where walking and having this conversation, well she left to go to church, and I continued to walk down the street, which was very reminiscent of the street that runs next to the old high school in Cottage Grove, interestingly enough this landscape appeared in another dream recently the one which this stormy town where I was investigating the murder of my brother. The road does down hill, and as I walked further along I ran across BJ and Brant. They where carrying furniture and they walked along, Brant had a dresser or filing cabinent that was black or blue, and BJ had a worn wooden table. I offered to assist BJ with the table, and Brant crossed the street going right, and we cut across a parking lot to the left. We came to a small, small meaning disportionately small, Mexican restaurant, and we left the table outside where it looked like it has been borrowed from...then we where in the restaurant, I was waiting while BJ was talking to someone, the impression was that he worked there, as we where on our way out, two older gentlemen where drinking an orange drink and talking, the one was getting up and offered his glass to BJ, who took a drink, as the second one got up he gave me his glass, the drink was quite like Tang. They left us their table where there was a chocolate coconut brownie cake, which we ate and drank the tang drink. Then I woke up.

The next I remember bits of was on the futuristic side, with kiosks where you could purchase through credit anything, I was with friend buy tickets to a movie, this future was a world where most of what was on television was a cross between bad cable news and SNL, politics being the joke of the day, and any politician who could be poked for reason was. The think I remember most vividly was a bit of technology that was a card that when with your cellphone, it was called a RELAX, and it would automatically mute cellphones while in movie theatres and would transcribe to text any messages that where left, I was examining one while in the theatre and am sure there where other option, just as full transcription of any conversation. The overall structure of this dream has faded I do remember there was some choice between 2 different movies both with popular actors, and again the subtext was that there where political elements as well, like and exaggeration of the already bipolar pop culture perception of politics that is evident today, in other words a world gone madder.

Maintenance

the door is ajar....ding....ding...the door is ajar....

that which we share is evident, that which separates us more difficult to define, discrimination, authority, who is the target audience, If I'm not speaking for myself then who do I speak for which is easier, which is cowardice, to profess my flaws or my strengths, in which do I have faith? What does the audience see, target or otherwise, not all struck, making an impression?? Sometime the truest individualization is the deviation from assumed deviation. What do they tell the fledgling actor, imagine the audience naked, hmm...maybe that's not always a helpful image, but the truth is naked, sometimes it sags a bit in places, and sometimes it's simply a choice....for the choice is always the same.....processed in binary....off or on, yes or no, every second....the how is an illusion I create every time I don't make that choice....and it is simple.... relationship...exchance....transmit....trasmit...trasmit....

words

after all the words are said, what can is there to say,
sit still and listen, we shall have no peace today,
no freedom from troubles no absence of strife or struggle,
get up go to work, get down feel the earth,
erode beneath are feet,
we breakdown as we breathe,
we breathe....

an idea, radius and reflection, counter intuitive, sometimes reactionry and unaware, strife and struggle, for an absense of strife and the struggling, grasping at what, for who holds tomorrow, pass the salt, pass the bottle, sit down and stay a while, tell me some sorrow I have not known, not just an imagines trespass or forshadowing of impending doom, there is alway impeding something breaking in the distance, getting closer, and then not at all what it ever, completely broken down, not what we were ever shall we be, but nothing other that, was we have always been, falling down, arising, unarriving.....where was I?

lost post volume one

I guess it would probably be a good idea to be aware of blogger downtimes....had a nice post written out a review of zardoz and about the frustrations of my weekend, well guess it's nothing worth holding onto. There's alway something else like....check out Doctor Paradox ....
http://creativecommons.org/weblog/entry/4161

'if illusion and reality are different....
they are also very much the same.
embrace everything,
condemn nothing.'

no title can i edit that later I wonder

I'm really to tired to have much to say, so I'm just gonna write and see what happens. I am trying to write here as much as possible, just for the practice of writing, and to open the gates and let out all those thought anxieties self critical thoughts and grand or not so grand relevations, because I might not be able to say it all but I can say something, I can pour words on the page, rearrange them a million ways. After years of being washed in the tide of poetic expression and attempts to grasp at the intangible, what is washed away and what is worn thin, time for something with a but more form. Let's attempt full sentances even. Friends have suggested I attempt a novella, or perhaps a short story, I think I'm working my way up to that. Certianly something more then fragmented words, scribbles on paper, squigley lines. There was a time when I doubted words, thought their true meanings where something beyond my grasp. So now I write, unfolding those crumpled up pieces of paper, picking up a pen, puting fingers to the keys and filling in blanks, and maybe not every word is exacting in detail, perhaps that is something that will come with time, or perhaps what is revealed is more then adequate, and the process certianly much more liberating then holding a pen and waiting for the perfect words.

drunk after a punk show

and still the best thing of my day is simple, a hug, drunken and enjoying the disfuction that is evident in the smell of adrenaline and sweet, punks reek of sweat, a girl was asking for a pipe so smoke some hash oil, there was an after party where was it 19th and adams or was it adler, who knows, I am drunk, and listening to a song entitled ghost-town of my brain....never much cared for punks I mean what's it all about being too drunk to fuck, wasted and nihilistic, now that's something to live for, I mean really, where's that going, guess for some of us that's where you have to be to realize there is somewhere else to go. Gotta admit the dance is the dance despite the occasional shove, cause what can you do but shove back, as expected. Had some pretty good beer, some Caldera Stout, and a Black Butte Porter, which is certianly a standard. Almost didn't go, distracted by conversation of nature, man, techn0logy, and how will the whole thing work out, and what it means to be a post modernist, to live with an idea of what is beyond the chaos reshaping every moment of our systematicly structured existance. Something the punk has no concept of.
To me punk is about the chaos without vision, without heart, but still its something real, there is a passion to it, something I can dance to, and when someone steps in my circle I shove back as expected, give back, is there love in that or what?

shatter the mirror....

i barely recognize this face, and it's so inconsistant, each time I see something different, a warrior, a poet, the smirk of a prankster, a vile thing, one who waits and listens, that lost look again. they are all and not the same as I. I dream for answers, and am given riddles. The most vivid was of me and the primative man stating at the base of a tree which was not a tree but was the whole of the human evolutionary process, the base of the tree was a cluster of transmigratory souls, bright light, and as you went up several plateus, I could see up to the highest plateu and there was a woman looking down and me, expectingly, waiting. All my life I have heard the words like 'achieveing your full potential'....do I have so much 'potential', perhaps to much that the thing about potential is something like waiting in line, but for what, what's at the end of that line, or the next, where does it go? Every choice, action, excludes another, 'there's no such thing as a right decision' , but what about a wrong one, experience would tell me there seem to be plenty of those, plenty of dead ends, brick walls, that have to be scale, or broken down, and here I am looking back at me, will I remember the one who wrote this.

There was a child who told me my name, he dream many days to come to this, this name, it was the one I had always know, but only when the child spoke the word did I know its meaning. It was no word every spoken in any languange previously know to man, for it had a shape, it spanned time, and was brilliant in colour. It also belonged to another one who would be me when I was no longer.

Take me to your garden of tears, and learn me to dream, forget my fears,
we tend the earth as we where born to be, watch the skys and speak of dreams,
we've killed our fathers, and made new songs from ancient hymns...

another dream I come to a small town where it is always raining, I am investigating the death of a family member, possibly a brother, everyone I meet is aware of why I am there and more then forthcoming, I play roleplaying games with people in a van, the eventually give me my next contact who lives by the high school, the person I mean knows me tell me and again is more then forthcoming with information both about myself and my reasons for being here, things about myself that I did not even know. This town is along the ocean and beyond the ocean lies the answer. Somehow the town is under the influence of the WOTC, and they are more then just the company that has renewed interest in roleplaying games, perhaps a secret order, and there I am investigating a murder in their territory, now a pawn in a story that is bigger then the any I have ever.....

around the block....a day, and a week, things previously unspoken

it's a short trip down to the park where I swing, why do I swing, it's a childish thing, and on the headphones burroughs speaks of western lands, the road is devious unperdictable, a dangerous road, I have failed every trial set before me, burnt so may bridges and made a toy of all that might be a tool, a fool, suffering for his own folly, and yet I must continue, next track, el hombre, the man, when does a chld become a man....I stand before you may I pass, may I pass, do I have to ask. And what of that girl, the one who will one day cry on my shoulder, do I ask her, do I tell her what I see, where I've been, of my folly and quests for redemption, that my heart is pounding, and it frightens me, of the daydreams. The sand stuck to my shoes makes the pavement uneven as I leave the playground, but by the time I round the corner it has been worn away. I think maybe I should see someone on the street and give them this disc, so they may hear what I have heard. Another corner, a shadow on the grounds startles me briefly, I walk further. My heart beats, my heart beats, has it ever been so apparent, so much joy and sorrow awaits up before we reach the shore, did I imagine what I saw that day, was it a glimpse of a heaven with all it joys and sorrows, or a clever illusion, a daydreamers picnic beside a field of tall grass with a girl will cry on my shoulder. I loose my footing pavement i step on is cracked and sloping at 2 different angles, I was distracted by a what looked like a road sign, to dark to make out, in lawn of a house as I pass. The day after a daydream a terror settles over, this is all illusion, distraction, my heart beats, but this time, panic, where is this, how can any of this be anything more then a fantasy that will leave me feeling defeated. Further down the block is a the sweet smelling flowers, honeysuckle, I pass once, and then when the fragrance hits me I back of and stop to smell again...is there a land beyond fear. The heart beats, the heart beats, it will have to be removed ripped out of my chest and planted firmly in the ground where it can grow on it's own, let it be the best of me, you can bury the rest of me. What is the one things on my mind: fear redemption fire eternity the clouds and your eyes reality destiny words quid est veritas sorrow tears laugher joy chance or fate pleasure pain nothingness and nowhen existance sex and death ".....a moment later..........and so at last I understood......go."

...til you wake up, dreams come undone...

A momentary affirmation, the shade walks takes slow steps and brief moments of full tangibility, before returning to her ellusive form. Now I am left with the memories of the voiceless whispers, calling out to me. For what, I ask, what sort of redemption does this spirit seek?

We woke up today making a game of throwing coins in the sand
they sand slowly and we walked away,
forgetting why we came to the desert
why we abandoned the labors of the previous years
that have given us such joy
provides solace through the tears

Have we come with gifts to this celebration?
My day holds memory of your lips, something yet unsaid, and silent greeting.
We walk through the path of one another and you speak to me of the things you fear, none of this do you say, nor do you need to. Will you sing new songs as I dedicate words in your honor, hold you as you cry, it won't be long and the play will be over. Prizes will be awarded, the ones you've always been waiting for. The highest plateu is your, you know. A dedication ceremony, and other rites of passage, trials and revelations, tears and annointed tongues, wine glasses and slow dances through fire. Earth is not so silent, as a great river washes away the skin, we are worn to nothing that can't be purified by flame. Accept the invitation, fire sand to glass, build a castle of this, through which light can pass.