Tuesday, February 08, 2005

in a book in a box high upon a shelf....

Ahh, the joys of sound knowledge and confirmation. What's the difference really? I mean asking certain people questions based on dualism really teaches us nothing, and I am starting to pick up on some of those strange vibes on this situation. There is merit to coming in second place here, the first being that it frees me from the worry. The most confusing statement was something about Valentine's Day, which I have a sound psychological understanding as a reversed inwardly directed statement. It's cool, everybody does it, just listen closely to the phrasing and the context of a statement. Half of them are simply outward projections of inward thoughts. Shit, and we wonder why communication is so difficult.

I hope this whole situation fades a little bit here, as there is a lot more going on right now, and second, regardless of the depth of how I felt, I feel very strongly that honesty should be honored, and so I will. Soon, I'll know what's what for next year anyway, and that is the worry du jour until something else comes a long. Someday, this all better be the prequel to something....I need to move to Florida and finish this book and get going all ready. I can't believe the amount of raw time this English degree is taking up, and the sad fact is I'm not learning ANYTHING that is making me a better writer at the moment. As Jimmy Buffett says, "These are surely times that try our souls." Shit. I don't even believe in souls. I really like the metaphor though. Ain’t that always the way? (I’m smiling, and I hope you are too….)

So, until the next update from the ground, and the next exposition, I've got good music and a few good friends, a lot to do on the road that never ends...


ps - oh yeah. more lyrics in the works, in case you're still reading this L, so feel free, put them to tunes if you can, though if anything comes of it we will surely be talking contract...hahahaha, that'll be the day....

"I met Wanda when she was employed
behind the counter of the route 60 bob's big boy,
Fried chicken on the front seat, she's sitting in my lap
wiping our fingers on a texaco road map
i remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill
with those big brown eyes that make your heart stand still..."

("open all night" by bruce springsteen)

till later comes my friends and neighbors, and until the sun sets,


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