Friday, October 29, 2004
past tense...
It was a slow night, and after spending a good amount of hours tryng to decide if I was being anti-social or just a lazy prick, I got a bit sidetracked thinking about how I would want to be remembered after I die. At first, I was at a total loss. Then, I got to thinking. Now, follow me here, because the crux of this plan is to obtain some sort of minor litereary fame a la Kenneth Patchen (romanticized in the Buffett song "Death of an Unpopular Poet".) After this, I will compile a sizeable estate. Nothing Gatesian, but certainly big enough for my survivors to go to court over.
Hence my plan. Remembrance through litigation. Of course, from this will springboard the occasional brief entry on some stupid "Where Are They Now" type of show, with the added bonus that I'll always be in the same place, with my ashes floating happily in the Caribbean Sea. Of course, if Jesus returns from his vacation, I could end up screwed without a body to return in, but something tells me I don't have to worry about Judgement Day for any number of reasons...hahahaha
What else? Did you ever have a conversation with someone you haven't spoken to in a long time and then realize how little has changed? Unbefrigginglievable! I can only assume she's not thinking the same thing I am, but that may not be a big problem. If everyone thought like I did, there would be more clowns and strangely costumed entertainers simply standing around and wondering what comes next. Make what you will of the allusion there, just don't spend too much time reading between the lines.
Times are certainly strange, and my best guess as to why is that there is just no other way for things to be. In a long discussion that doesn't merit typed notes, I got to thinking about life and straightening out the mistakes we all make. But beyond that, just getting beyond the day to day bullshit to try and improve the psychic quality of life, perhaps the context and intrinsic problems we each deal with in our own way. There are so many ways to try and change life, to mold it into something you can recognize as vaguely happy and contented, even if the contement is short lived. Religion, friendship, spirituality, psychology, mood stabalizers, there is a million ways to reconfigure life, but they all boil down to the choice to abandon whatever we feel is the root cause of the problem in the vain hope that removing the cause will inevitably lead to the cure. I am not so sure this is the case. Certainly, these changes need to be self-motivated, and the commitment to make the changes permanent (or as permanent as humans get!) needs to be fully accepted before progress can be made, but what of the environment, or the co-factors of the problem?
I've been on both sides. I have lived in a lot of places, and known a lot of people. But for the most part, life seems a series of phases, and the poeple in one place do not always remain the integral part of life they once were. It is cyclical, and I do not mean to say that I enjoy or attempt to disconnect friends from my life. It just seems to happen that way
Maybe the question I have been asking myself is really philosophical in nature and omnipresent in reality. Where do you draw the line when it comes to the past? Is it better to strike out alone in search of some mystical happiness or to find a friend, hunker down and build a place from which to tell the world to fuck off, as it were? Of course, being this dualistic is silly, there are infinite choices and infinite possibilities, and the girl I love she got long wavy hair....
Not much else to say tonight. Lots to think about, and sudden realization is a filthy game, filled with deception and glee. That first caress feels so good, but the real game is trying to get back there, to that first fall, that first sweet kiss in delicious anticipation. At times, the fall is so great that it hurts, and leaves you wounded, searching for whatever it was that got you here to begin with. But even then, it is just more motivation to chase harder and faster next time, to grasp that little slice of reality or whatever and hold on. When you get to that point, the next move is not yours to make. Just wait, drink in the pleasure of the slowly moving clock and the warmth that is the best symbol we really have.
Tonight, I wish I could sit on top of a mountain that overlooks my life, and laugh and sing and dance until there is nothing left to laugh at. I want to crawl into a warm sleeping bag with a bag of memories and a campfire burning. I want to run across the water, and feel the wetness. I want the ascension of a hand, an arm, the body, the mind, the heart, the soul and the touch. I want to call it mine, and laugh in the eyes of a lover.
Some nights the tension is enough, and every ripple is counterbalanced...
cf
ps - ellen cherry charles, we hardly knew ye...but joe henry loves you madly....goodnight baby
cf
"I can quit this any time, it's just to help me sleep
Stops the tiny voices, and strange hours that they keep
Who wants to hear them questioning and have to answer too,
Better to be be dumb when I am falling for you"
(Words & Music by JH)
Hence my plan. Remembrance through litigation. Of course, from this will springboard the occasional brief entry on some stupid "Where Are They Now" type of show, with the added bonus that I'll always be in the same place, with my ashes floating happily in the Caribbean Sea. Of course, if Jesus returns from his vacation, I could end up screwed without a body to return in, but something tells me I don't have to worry about Judgement Day for any number of reasons...hahahaha
What else? Did you ever have a conversation with someone you haven't spoken to in a long time and then realize how little has changed? Unbefrigginglievable! I can only assume she's not thinking the same thing I am, but that may not be a big problem. If everyone thought like I did, there would be more clowns and strangely costumed entertainers simply standing around and wondering what comes next. Make what you will of the allusion there, just don't spend too much time reading between the lines.
Times are certainly strange, and my best guess as to why is that there is just no other way for things to be. In a long discussion that doesn't merit typed notes, I got to thinking about life and straightening out the mistakes we all make. But beyond that, just getting beyond the day to day bullshit to try and improve the psychic quality of life, perhaps the context and intrinsic problems we each deal with in our own way. There are so many ways to try and change life, to mold it into something you can recognize as vaguely happy and contented, even if the contement is short lived. Religion, friendship, spirituality, psychology, mood stabalizers, there is a million ways to reconfigure life, but they all boil down to the choice to abandon whatever we feel is the root cause of the problem in the vain hope that removing the cause will inevitably lead to the cure. I am not so sure this is the case. Certainly, these changes need to be self-motivated, and the commitment to make the changes permanent (or as permanent as humans get!) needs to be fully accepted before progress can be made, but what of the environment, or the co-factors of the problem?
I've been on both sides. I have lived in a lot of places, and known a lot of people. But for the most part, life seems a series of phases, and the poeple in one place do not always remain the integral part of life they once were. It is cyclical, and I do not mean to say that I enjoy or attempt to disconnect friends from my life. It just seems to happen that way
Maybe the question I have been asking myself is really philosophical in nature and omnipresent in reality. Where do you draw the line when it comes to the past? Is it better to strike out alone in search of some mystical happiness or to find a friend, hunker down and build a place from which to tell the world to fuck off, as it were? Of course, being this dualistic is silly, there are infinite choices and infinite possibilities, and the girl I love she got long wavy hair....
Not much else to say tonight. Lots to think about, and sudden realization is a filthy game, filled with deception and glee. That first caress feels so good, but the real game is trying to get back there, to that first fall, that first sweet kiss in delicious anticipation. At times, the fall is so great that it hurts, and leaves you wounded, searching for whatever it was that got you here to begin with. But even then, it is just more motivation to chase harder and faster next time, to grasp that little slice of reality or whatever and hold on. When you get to that point, the next move is not yours to make. Just wait, drink in the pleasure of the slowly moving clock and the warmth that is the best symbol we really have.
Tonight, I wish I could sit on top of a mountain that overlooks my life, and laugh and sing and dance until there is nothing left to laugh at. I want to crawl into a warm sleeping bag with a bag of memories and a campfire burning. I want to run across the water, and feel the wetness. I want the ascension of a hand, an arm, the body, the mind, the heart, the soul and the touch. I want to call it mine, and laugh in the eyes of a lover.
Some nights the tension is enough, and every ripple is counterbalanced...
cf
ps - ellen cherry charles, we hardly knew ye...but joe henry loves you madly....goodnight baby
cf
"I can quit this any time, it's just to help me sleep
Stops the tiny voices, and strange hours that they keep
Who wants to hear them questioning and have to answer too,
Better to be be dumb when I am falling for you"
(Words & Music by JH)
