just another day in paradise

It was August and the one thing that truely got to me was the winds,
the warm winds of July had turned to the cool winds of August. Which seemed somehow to be pushing against me no matter which direction I rode, always it was against the wind, which seemed to weight me down, like....well you know that feeling when your in a pool or stream and trying to run in the water, that sensation of added resistance, except with the wind the resistance is not fluid, but rather abbrasive....

I'm putting together a castle, a jigsaw puzzle of a castle, I've put together over half a dozen jigsaw puzzles at work...this is the first one in quite a few months, maybe this time all the pieces will be here...

I don't sleep much...when I do I dream...last night in my dream I was carrying around on my back a pack, then held...I believe it was possibly paint, of dream, and therefor having other qualities as well, it was in a pack that has a hose that led to a hand held nozzle-gun that I carried, some people in the dream where put off by my paint gun, and I did cover some people in colour....

so chapter one again, I've read chapter one, the thinker thinks and the prover proves....how do you change thoughts your own or others....affections, to be affected, I clutches at ideas, ego.....

SAPER AUDE....


"Lord -- what was it the barbarian said, as the riders vanished?"
Omnia mutantur, nihil interit...

It's only just a little bit, these things that remind me of earlier times, superficial, because the love the feeling the joy has nowhere to have gone, is nowever inside of me....

ideas to not come to conclusion in and of themselves...people come to conclusions base on how they choose to relate to the ideas, clutching at ideas......change is the only constant....fear is the little death...statis is entropy....evolution, metamorphisis, mutation is life...no thought of my own can tame....delight...and delerium....split sister of dream....not according to the book, or the hand, is the word the essense of man, but the essense of word, is dance my friends, or rather dance is a primative manifestation of ressonance, which from void and since void has always been...

you are heard, every breath every sound, breath in, breath out, and you have been changed, mutated, deviated, the directions is your choice, you are strong and beautiful, your noise is your own, protest loudly, dance, laugh at yourself or someone else will do it for you....

PSA: We're all going to die.....we're all going to DIE! I'm pissed, that's not fair, I don't want to die!

the worst of me is disaffection, passionless and appathetic....the best of me wants you to know the best of you, because I am affected, troubled, stirred up, turned on. That may seem crude if taken in a purely sexual context, but I want to be turned on....that was one of those front porch drinking conversation realizations that I kept to myself at the time, but it's the truth of the matter, if this is it, and yet is has to be other then this, then let this, as it is, be stimulating, let them shake rattle and role, vibration, potential energy, aggitate, catalyst.....

do you know what makes popcorn pop, yes, there is air in the kernel, but it's the moisture inside the kernel that expands with heated...

Should I hold on to my memories, should I hang on to every tear, should I pretend not to know you, pretend I'm not here, there something right here.....I ride to center and am split from there, torn, to render, legal tender, sew and mend your flesh, your friends, dear, hear, and even if it's only just one tear, even if there is no one near, there's a voice whisering in your ear...there is love all around you and you are loved.

If the glass is full
drink up, drink up
this may be the last time I see this cup.
If God wanted us sober
he'd knock the glass over
so while its full
we drink up.
-Jason Webley, "The Drinking Song"
I personally attribute this quote to my dear friend, and fellow piscean, the Reverand Dan, the man, Manzano.