Tuesday, November 10, 2009


If this were a movie, like a real live movie I would position the camera somewhere in the sky for the first shot. There would be lots of light and colors. Psychedelic styled colors. The kind you see when you are on mushrooms or other such hallucinogens. You would see very small specks of things happening like the way you do when you fly across the united states or anywhere else for that matter except you would slowly fall from the sky and go right towards whatever it is you wanted to focus on. In this case, it would be a car traveling roughly 65-70 mph down the New Jersey Turnpike.

The car would be the color of gold. There would also be other cars driving around it too but those cars wouldn't matter as much. There would be two guys in the car and they would be having a conversation about whatever is on the radio. Maybe they would be talking about politics or the economy. Something rightfully boring as hell. There would be a message in all of this conversation. If you wanted to hear it. There is a message in all forms of conversation. The first guy would ask the second guy about political division and how it affects the individual but the other guy would say that it doesn't have as much to do with the individual as it does with the whole collective. The other guy would say that if there is no individual then there can be no collective because each individual makes up the collective. He would slowly convince the other to see his point of view. He would also talk about how the media uses illustrative stories, metaphors, symbolism, emotion and thought control to get people to believe in a life that is actually not really their life to believe in.

It is a made up life that has no point and purpose for any of the people choosing to believe it. He would also say that people do not even realize they are choosing to live in this way because they have been convinced that it was their idea in the first place. The other man would hear him about but here would be many questions that would need answering but even if he answered those questions it would not bring them any closer to understanding what it is they are talking about. Then a man on the radio would say that one million trillion billion gazillion dollars have been spoon fed to a black hole and no one knows where it disappeared to. The other man would ask how the hell could that much money simply disappear without a trace. The other man would say that it is very easy to lose a very large sum of money if you have connection and control to the printing presses and if you lose all documentation/contracts to the printing of the money. Just like the way you can print any document into the world from your own printer at home. The other man would wonder then if money is real. If it really has any effect on anyone's life or if it is just some agreement that our forefather's and their forefather's and their forefather's agreed to. The other man would ask if maybe it is time to stop following our forefather's because this country was founded on freedom. The other man would ask what is freedom. The man would say that freedom is the ability to live free to one's choices in their life at all costs. The other man would concur but he would also ask how many choices do we really have. The other man would say how many thoughts can you think?

This would baffle the man for a moment because he then realizes at that moment that he has only been thinking very selective thoughts and has not even realized that there were other thoughts to think about other than the other sayings/ramblings/slogans of corporations. This would make a small tear fall from the man's eye. This would also help the man to realize that he has never cried a day in his life since he was a little kid. So he would have to pull over to the side of the road and let it all out for a moment. The other man would not know what to say or do so he would let the man let it all out. He would say something like, I'm sorry to overwhelm you with my thinking but these are just some of the thoughts I have been having lately. Then the man's cellular phone would ring. It would be both of the men's boss asking where the hell are they because they have a meeting in the next half an hour. Then the man would say they are on the side of the New Jersey Turnpike with a flat tired and that he is really sorry but they will be late and that this is what happens when you drive in the back of a construction truck. The boss on the phone would say please get here as fast as you can and would hang up without saying goodbye or see you soon. The two men would look at each other ironically as if there is some irony to this situation but both would realize it's nothing but an odd thought for the moment.

There would be a bunch of housing developments next to them on the side of the road. A sign would read "If you lived here, You would be home by now." This would actually be the title for the movie. A commercial on the radio would start talking about these developments and how they will be available in the coming month. This would really cause some irony at the moment because here are both of these men. Late to a financial meeting for the debt collection company, they work for. Conversations about financial ideas. Both of them barely making it by with enough money to just scrape by the skin of their teeth which is actually slowly wearing off. They would consider this to be a sign that maybe it is time for a change in both of their lives. They would get into the car and continue driving to work.

This would all happen early in the morning. Right as the sun is coming up. The first light of the day. There would be steam rising off the ponds and rivers that they drove by. They would turn the radio off and ride in silence the rest of the way into the city. They would go through the Holland Tunnel and end up on Canal Street. There would be a policeman directing traffic. A vendor selling hot coffee and donuts. A long line of fat people would be impatiently waiting for their turn. They would all look at their watches very obsessively. Chinese people would be almost knocking each other over with buckets of plants, vegetables, handbags and other such items that we will never know about. Other Chinese people would be saying DVD, DVD for sale. African American men would be carrying around very large trash bags full of handbags and would be quickly opening and closing them before the police show up. Crackheads would be screaming about motherfucking pidgeon toes took my doppelganger to outer space as diamond mines, shut up, fuck, fuck, go fuck yourself, you self, you don't know what you are talking about, I told you that's not what I was here for to me. You would not know what the point of what they are saying is and if it actually makes sense to them. Maybe it is the most simplified language they understand. Less is more right. The street would rumble from the R train below. It would smell like a dirty river just like the way it used to be a very long time ago before there was a street here. Everyone would be in a rush in their own way. Some people would be running scared, others would be nervously looking left and right and up and down, looking for someone, anyone who might be looking for them. Others would be walking very slowly but still in a rush with their canes scratching across the sidewalk.

The two men would continue driving. They would start asking each other what are they going to do when they get there. What are they going to say? What are they going to do? One of the men says why don't we let it happen. The other man will say because I want to have the same story as you so we can make sure everything is in its place. The other man would say that they should not plan it out too much because that is how mistakes happen when there are too much planning and ideas put into it. Naturally let it happen he would say. They would both disagree with how things should be accomplished. One would want to know every single last little detail. The other would just want to keep it all open just in case anything changes when they get there. The other man says fine. No story. We will just walk in as if nothing has happened. Like we aren't late. The other man would say ok, perfect. We aren't late. We are right on time.

The man would not believe him because he well knows what time it is now and what time they were supposed to be there. They would get up to the parking garage. Push the button for the ticket and the ticket would not come out. The man would push the button again and nothing. Again and nothing. Finally, the man would get very pissed off at the machine that it would pop out a ticket at the last minute. They would finally find a parking space. 

They would walk into the building. 

They would be greeted by two cups of coffee and a smile from the secretary.

Monday, November 9, 2009


About a year ago I was looking for the keys to my 1956 Mercedes 300SL Gullwing but they were nowhere to be found. So I made a cup of tea. Took a shower. Read the last two pages of a book called: how to find your car keys in as little as ten steps for $24.99 plus shipping and handling. I couldn't believe I got suckered again into buying some book that at the end of it asked you for money if you ever wanted to find your keys again. Blasphemy I say. So I swept and mopped the floor. Walked in circles around my apartment. Cleaned the windows. Folded some blankets. Cooked some scrambled eggs. Made some coffee. Drank some water. Still I could not find my car keys.

So then I went for a walk across Brooklyn. Bought an apple from a fruit vendor. Took a quick piss inside a pizza shop. Tied my shoe. Continued walking. I walked to Williamsburgh from Bushwick. The scenery changes immensely from these locations. You go from lots of trash blowing in the street to lot's of trash walking down it. The trash is more real in Bushwick though. It's a bit more authentic. Not to be judgemental or anything. I would never generalize a whole population of people; ever. Anyways, I still couldn't find my keys. It was really starting to get on my nerves. Where did I leave them? I walked into Beekmans Closet. Found a bitchin pair of pants for under twenty bucks and a sweet lumberjack looking flannel shirt that makes me look like a cowboy. I walk down to McCarren Park and sit on a bench. I watch everyone walk by. A lady walks by with a pig. A couple walks by talking about how AC/DC and Kiss were the best things ever to happen to rock and roll. A guy headbangs to Metallica Ride The Lightning on his walkman that is made for cassette tapes. People are drinking frozen margaritas. Other people are walking their dogs. Fixed gear bike gangs ride by. Skateboarders ride by doing various tricks that sound very loud.

Kids run far away from their mothers and fathers as their mothers and fathers try and catch up to them. I walk to Manhattan Ave in Greenpoint and get a cup of coffee and go to an art gallery. I see beautiful paintings. Everyone is posh. They use big words to describe the paintings and they talk about modern art versus decorative art versus the renaissance. Everyone drinks wine. Red wine. White wine. They all whine. Jeff broke up with me for some model that models for Ford. That's ok though his photography sucks anyways. Sarah left me for some douche who plays in a band and will be touring around the world for the rest of his life. Marc Jacobs new line looks like the last line and the line before that and you even have to wait in line now to get any of the new pieces of his new line. I get so caught up in everything else that has been happening since I left my apartment that I forgot I was looking for my keys to my car.

I forgot that I was going to go for a nice drive in the upstate and watch the leaves fall and see the beautiful colors that fall has to offer. This happens to me often in NYC. I set out to do one thing and then split off into a million directions and then forget what I originally set out to do in the first place. My brain has nothing good to say about anything around me. It's like a badly composed typewriter that just wants to listen to how everything sucks and how everything is this way and how everything is that way and the other way and I forget that I set out with one specific idea in mind. This disappoints the hell out of me for about two seconds. So I remember. I tell myself, ok so you forgot what you were doing? Big deal. That's pretty normal when you have a computer for a brain. I walk back out the door. Down Manhattan Avenue to Bedford. I run into Andrew riding his bike. I run into Alex, we argue for fun for a few minutes. I run in Hannah, we talk about how each other is doing. I run into Josh, he plays a prank on me. I run into Andre riding his bike, he gives me a big hug and a kiss. I run into Ame behind him, she does the same exact thing. I run into the guy who dresses like a clown who taught me how to dance in the street to the Beatles, we dance for a few minutes. I run into the lady who sells me socks for five bucks sometimes.

I run into this guy I forget his name but he always remembers mine. I walk into Oslo and get a coffee. Their coffee is the best, it's so rich and dark. Alex gives the best hugs from there, she has like the biggest heart in Oslo, Brooklyn. I run into Dana and give her a big hug and Yana is right behind her, I give her the biggest hug too. I walk down Broadway. The train makes loud noises. The sirens of the cop cars flying by taking over. I remember now that through all this damn thinking of everything, of looking for everything. NYC really loves me.

I end up back at home. The keys were on the table the whole time.

Monday, October 26, 2009


Russia, some undisclosed year. We are at war around a giant lake. Bullets are flying past us. This is insane once again. Like always. People are dying on both sides of the enemy lines. It appears no one is winning and giant explosions just keep getting bigger and bigger. There's no winners in this war or any war that I have witnessed for that matter. I decide to drop my gun and walk away from the whole thing. Why do I want to kill? Why do I want to fight? I don;t even know why anyone is fighting in the first place. I take my bags and seek refuge in an old bunker and wait for the right moment to leave this place. When things calm down.

I am walking down the road no one is driving down. I walk to the nearest town. Buses and cars start passing by me as I get closer to a population. It is raining ever so slightly. I end up in front of an old house. I ring the doorbell a few times. Then I am let in. A little girl helps me with my belongings and speaks to me in the little bit of English that she knows how. I sit down and relax for a little slice of time. The mother returns home and sees that I am in her home. She becomes very angry. She takes my bags and belongings and starts throwing it all around. The contents start flying everywhere. This pisses me off to no end. 

I gather everything up off of the floor and repack it into the bag. I pull out an international cell phone and make a very important phone call. Pam Sullivan answers. I tell her what is going on and she agrees to buy me a ticket out of here. I walk out of the house looking for a ride to the nearest airport. Trouble is I don't know where I am. How long I have been here? What year is it? I feel I am in a completely different period of time that is ancient. I am from the future I realize. This is way back in the past before this bodies time. 

A man in a van pulls up but doesn't speak a word of English and looks at me very skeptically. He takes off very fast. I continue walking down the road.

Monday, June 22, 2009


Dream: Tops of buildings. People screaming. The city is a big scream. It is nothing else.

I wake up from the dream.

there is a 3 year old on the floor in the living room, another ghost. she looks and me and speaks.

she says, scary huh? I say yeah, a little unexpected. she says, you don't have to be scared and changes from a ghost form to a physical form and hugs me. tears well up inside of my eyes and I can't believe this is really happening.

I wake up again in the living room and usually to turn on the light I have to squeeze the button down really hard and turn and it doesn't always turn on easily, I barely even touch it and the light turns on all by itself.



I am at a farm in the middle of Texas and it is night, the moon guides our way. I am driving in a car and there are dead living people all eating each other. I just keep driving and they just keep chasing me. They can't catch me.


I am in NYC inside a posh downtown apartment. Really nice furniture. Beautiful gadgets and gobbledygook things everywhere. Outside you can hear the screams of people being eaten by other people who are the living dead. They start to get each other, the dead fight the living and the living fight the dead and everyone is dying in the streets. I hear them coming up the stairs. I sit on top of the refrigerator and can hear screaming children being eaten alive. I wait, I know they are coming for me next.

then, I wake up from the dream on the couch in the woodlands texas.

I see a ghost in the living room, it's a baby screaming and running across the floor. it scares the fucking shit out of me.

Sunday, April 19, 2009


when it is sunny
you would say it is not raining
but when it rains sometimes it is sunny
but when it is not sunny at all and it is raining
it is raining and not sunny

Monday, April 6, 2009


You wouldn't believe a thing I said unless you actually had something similar happen to you and even then none of our experiences can ever be completely compared because of the interpretation of what we thought we experienced. 

It's so much like language, the tower of babel collapsing through the only real communication that happens with no sounds. The awaken has awakened in the dream. The dream has become the reality but you can't even take my word for it. This is my experience and it doesn't really even matter whether you read this and agree or don't agree or you think I am crazy or you think I am sane or you think you know any of these things. 

This is mine and it can never be stolen. It's the gem inside that no one can see. It shines like the crazy diamond that Pink Floyd talked about. I have seen it in the eyes of the seers. It happens in the state of non-doing. I don't have any more explanations for you. The philosopher has died. The linguistic tongue twister of parody and melody and romance has died. I can't even see my own reflection anymore. The mirror broke. The wave crashed on the banks of the shore. I have died to a new day and night. 

The merge as the sun and the moon dance around each other in a cosmic swirl of lights and silences. I can keep entertaining you with these notions but advise you to go out there and see what it's saying to you. Abyss deep. 

The height and expansion of the sky. The unlimited boundlessness.

Saturday, April 4, 2009


The hermit was sitting in his chair sipping on a nice hot cup of tea that he had made for himself and was lost in his dreams of these days that have gone by and passed on like those beautiful sunsets that we have experienced and continue to long for, long after they are gone. He dreamed a beautiful dream of the middle of the woods. A walking stick. A candle lit inside of lantern. Nothing but darkness all around, nothing to see. Only noises all around of nature singing its glorious song. One foot in front of the other. He couldn't even see the ground he was walking on. This is the faith that he had with the path. Who knows if he would make it to any destination but that wasn't the point of any of this. This is where it all started on that day when he erupted from the womb. Nine months inside of the mother with the umbilical cord keeping him alive. There was no guarantee that he was going to come out of the womb developed exactly the way that he needed to be. To this day, we still have no knowledge of how this all came about.

Pregnant in the womb with the mother carrying the weight. That's the best thing about all mother's that is the least appreciated in the world today. We have also heard much about the orgasm and the pain that a woman experiences in childbirth. The orgasm is so intense from what we hear that it seems like she is in excruciating pain and it's this mix of pleasure and pain that brings the birth. From what we hear the woman will never experience anything close to this, even with the most amazing Don Juan of the world. That's what we have witnessed about birth and we are starting to feel that death is pretty much the same even though we don't really know the final death of the Hermit and what will happen to him. But we do know that he has been here for some time. 

He has been very irrational and rational, logistical and linguistical. He has been entertained with the notion of silence. The candle said to him, be a light unto your own. This light started from the moment the hermit saw the light of the day. Continued through the course into the night. Passed through the night with all of its uncertainty with only a small candle to guide the way and the intuition that he was going to make it. Then came the sunrise again. Things started taking shape all around. He saw the path again, he could see the ground. He was in the middle of the woods. The birds flew from the trees. The deer drank the water. The leaves crunched underneath the feet. This is the hermit that exists in all of us.

Thursday, March 19, 2009


I exist in infinite universe's plus one. You cannot even fathom the number infinite plus one because it keeps on going forever and forever and ever, plus one every single time. I exist as every single person I have ever known in every single one and now I know this. I know that we are all one in each and every single one of these infinite universe's and now I have a choice of which one I would like to reside in and now I have a choice of which one I want to bring into reality and now I have a choice of which one I want to bring into my life and now I have a...


Junkyard days from the past. I grew up near a dump, it smelled horrible. They filled it in a few years later but I remember driving on the way home all the time with mom and dad and the smell was hideous as we would pass it. All that junk and they just filled it over with some dirt. Nothing has changed when it comes to that, we just keep piling on the dirt over the junk that keeps accumulating. I used to go to the dump and smash stuff because man, I have been a fucking angry person for some time now. My buddy Corey and I would find bicycles, air conditioners, propane tanks, televisions, anything that was breakable. It was very refreshing to take other people's junk and take out the frustrations of growing up out on objects.


Then I am at another junkyard, I have a fixed gear bike made from parts and all I need now is a rear wheel with the fixed gear and I am looking through a pile of ten-speed parts and can;t seem to find one. The smell is horrible everywhere, it's a burning smell inside of your nostrils. It's like in Brooklyn in the industrial section.


I am in a building and no one is there and there are all of these hallways, empty. There are flashing lights and apparitions running around from the past but I am in the feeling that I know that none of this really exists, I think end up on top of the building, I jump off and fly away.


I am with a friend who I know pretty well but will keep nameless, we were never that close but in this dream we are very close and I am hugging her and all of a sudden we go into each other and merge and meld into one. Our eyes are shut and we are like the yin and the yang together. She smiles so much when we merge. The songs inside of her soul play so beautifully.


I then am in a past relationship that is based on sex and I am very disinterested in physical relationships now and I realize that this is just a projection of the past trying to pull me back, I start to fall for it again but then catch myself and completely walk away from it.


Monday, March 16, 2009


A tenuous light entered from the corridor and I knew I had seen it before because it was the kind of light that glows with an iridescence that no other light can seem to glow with. I had been basked in its beauty before when I was little and I remember it well or, at least, I have been tricked into remembering it well. I remember walking through the world with my mother. She is in another state and I am feeling alone with the alone in this big city of millions of people.

I still walk on with that light inside of me but with no direction to put it into. I am not sure what this light is all about intellectually. I know that somewhere in here it melds copper into gold but because I have not witnessed it myself a part of me still believes certainly that it is impossible to make this corridor light up and sparkle. I know that somewhere in here there are shiny diamonds and trinkets everywhere but all I seem to keep imagining are empty cobweb filled hallways with a door at the end. There are other empty rooms in the empty hallways. Those empty rooms also have other empty rooms and they are all hollowed out. You can hear echoes when you scream and even when you whisper the tiniest of whisper's.

I am that hollowed out empty vessel walking, searching through the empty rooms looking for signs of life, signs of anything to appease this loneliness of being alone with the alone. Wasting time with the time wasters. Wasting dreams with the dream chasers. It has all been fruitless. I have seen all of this before. I have seen this since 42 billion years ago and still have not gotten it right. The same empty rooms, the same empty corridors, the same empty cobwebs.

42 billions years of the same de-evolution but thinking of some upward progress. Thinking of a climb up a mountain while sitting in a chair. I am ready to walk out of that door. I am making a new one in the wall. Once through I am never coming back. I am walking into a room full of gold, trinkets of every kind that I can share with everyone who enters my house. The feeling I feel of jumping through this portal is a bit of apprehensiveness and a bit of fear but I have sailed the seven seas and there is nothing in this world that will ever be able to harm me. There is nothing in this world that will ever be able to take away what is really mine because that which is not yours will always be leaving and that which is yours is here to stay. The love that resides in this place is bigger than the sun, bigger than the moon and as small and unseen as the tiniest strand of DNA that resides in us all.

Monday, February 2, 2009


and then I was walking down the street in a lucid stupor, everything was beautiful like the way a daydream is. The air was perfect, it blew right through the lungs inside my body. My heart beat with the whole beat of the whole city. The legs walked in the same timing. It was like music. The soundtrack that no one hears. I come across a big trunk in the middle of the city and its buried in the ground a little, half exposed so I shovel the rest of the remaining parts of the under exposed trunk, there's no lock on it so I open it and inside is 1,136,000 dollars all freshly and neatly packed like someone had left it there for someone to find.

Saturday, January 31, 2009


Another dream in an old hospital in the fifties. Everything has a blue tint to it and all of the people that I can see running the place are very zombie-like. They don't see me at all even as I walk right by. They are somewhere else when I look at them. I go to a room where an old friend of mine, Megan is sitting on a table waiting for a Dr. to come and take a look at her. Her hair is all messy and all over the place. She says that she has some sort of disease and she's waiting to be cured but I tell her she already is, the disease is all in her head and she lights up instantly. 

We start to walk out of the hospital and there is a feeling that comes in the gut that the Dr. knows that we have left. People start to run out of the hospital after us, they start to chase us telling us we are going the wrong way. I know that this is not true because the next thought that comes to mind is: when is the last time I ever knew a Dr. to have any interested in my good health? 

The Dr. is really good at telling me everything that is wrong with me but will he ever tell me anything that is right? So we run. We end up in a very large pyramid structure and we go deep into the belly of it, into the center of it. 

Up top is an opening and I realize at the top is a clock tower of some sort and the clock has stopped. Time has ceased to exist at this point. 

We climb up ladders and stairs and end up in the eye of heaven.


We are in the house and I only know it because I am looking out of two windows. It's 4:42 am and this is really happening. This is really happening somewhere else inside this house that I am looking out of. We are having a conversation only I don't know what it is about. Then there it is in the sky. An airplane. It is falling, falling, then it crashes right into the hill. Right into the tops of the trees and its raining and there's electrical towers all around that have fallen. 

The wires are jumping all over the place and people are screaming and I am running out of the house across the street and into the woods to help. I am running down the hill. There's people running up and I tell them to go into the house and she will help you. She will be able to clean you up, stitch you up. I understand how this feels. It's a thunder and lightning storm at the same time and I am rounding up people sending them up the hill. The airplane is on fire and people are still jumping out of it onto the hill and running up the hill. 

The lightning wants to hit me but I see it, I am very aware of its presence as if it is alive. I work around the lightning, I work around the electrical wires. There is a dog. It's scared. It's going out of control, running this way and that, attempting to bite people but I grab it by its collar and settle it down. Everyone is yelling for me to climb the hill, everyone is out and safe, the airplane is going to explode, the electrical wires are going to fry and the storm is going to keep going. 

I run up the hill, into the house and everyone is safe.

Friday, January 30, 2009


It was a snowy morning and I was grounding up the coffee beans for the french press and almost could taste the flavor through the aroma of the oils coming off of the beans as the crushed each other into oblivion. I remember this morning like no other morning I had ever experienced. I was so fucking tired of being broke all the time and constantly thinking about money, everything money, this money, that money. I was thinking so much about money that I thought it had something to do with my happiness. It was very pathetic. 

Little did I know that this morning would show me something about this realization that would blow my mind right out of my fucking head. I was very worried about not being able to pay the rent because two weeks previous I had been working at a bar in Boston and the bar got shut down because our manager got caught embezzling ten or fifteen thousand dollars to support his crystal meth habit and its funny how all of this worked itself out too because the night before this had happened he went berserk on me for no reason at all. I knew he was acting very strange from his behavior, he was like a hurricane running through the place yelling and screaming at people for no reason at all. On the binge, on the edge of the addiction. I burst into tears this night and fell into pieces because it reminded me so much of where I had been in my life in the past with being yelled and screamed at all the time for no reason. After this happened Tina brought me out to this bar and we had a drink with a few people from the bar and I was so pissed off. I had a glass of wine and cooled down then I walked home. 

Along the way, I had all of these thoughts of smashing this guys face in with a baseball bat or breaking his legs and watching him try to walk. During this point in my life, I wanted nothing more than to torture, maim or even kill every person in the world who inflicted any kind of pain on me. It was the past creeping up in my body and mind. Those old ghosts reminding me of where I had been. So enough of that kind of intensity because everything worked itself out the next day. The owner of the bar showed up and he was this big wig mafioso guy from south-Boston. He started taking shit over again. The manager who stole the money had fled and was nowhere to be found. I don't even know what happened since these days. So back to my morning coffee. I added the hot water to my ground up beans and it started steaming everywhere filling up the apartment I lived at on royal street in lower Allston. 

I decided I was going to let go of all ideas of money and just say fuck it, what does it matter if I think about how much money I don't have or how much money that I do have. It's useless and hasn't gotten me anywhere in the twenty-three years I had been on the earth at that time. So I finished my coffee and put my jacket on and such and walked out the door to go to the bar to paint it. Since Jack had gotten back he decided he was going to turn the place into an upscale bar, a place for wise guys to go to and drink their hard liquor and bang their broads and live that whole life you see in the movies about the old Italian mobster guys. It's funny too that this was what was going on because the place actually had been that kind of place way back in the fifties and some of the older crowd who came in for drinks would tell me stories all about it. It was a private gentlemen's club where five guys ran it and only let it other wise guys from the neighborhood. So I am walking out the door and it's snowing a little bit and the streets are a ghost town, its cold outside and a little tiny wind is blowing. 

I get to the end of Royal Street and just like in a dream there are twenty dollar bills blowing everywhere in the wind. Spiraling like a tornado and I am like holy shit is this a dream. I pinch myself to see and the pinch hurts so I know this is real. I run and start grabbing the money blowing in the wind. It's amazing. When I make a movie this is going to definitely be a scene. I run to the train with a big wad of cash in hand and count it on the way and realize that it is five hundred dollars. five hundred dollars blowing in the wind and my rent is five hundred and I had nothing to put towards it that day until this happened. 

Every time I recollect this story, I find money.

Thursday, January 29, 2009


And so I am walking down the street no longer thinking about the night or where it should go or where it is going to go or anything really and I am laughing fucking hysterically for no reason at all. Not just laughing like ha, that’s kind of funny but fucking laughing my face right off. My face melts into a million pieces and its like wax dripping on the skin. It melts right on the floor and no I am not on any drugs at all. I don’t do things like that anymore. I’d say if anything I am in a permanent state of psychedelic-ness. The whole world shimmers and shines all around me and birds and bats fly all around like I am in the epicenter of heaven and the hell is all around me, outside of my perimeter at this point. 

So anyways before I dress up this huge story about how all this stuff is happening around me I will just give it to you softly. I just ramble, I decided that is how I am going to write from now, a big huge fucking ramble and there will be some stuff in here you will like and laugh about or cry about or whatever you think it is, I don’t care, I write this to amuse myself and if you're amused then great, that’s great. So I walk down under the ground and swipe the weekly metro card I usually buy every week. Wow, what a surprise. A weekly metro card that I buy weekly. I am so smart when I write stories. So I walk and I go over to look at the map to see what’s new on it and there’s nothing and they're people playing music and some guy dressed up like Michael Jackson dancing all this and that; doing the whole thriller thing all over again. It’s the same shit we have seen a million times. It's funny. It's cute. He’s on his toes, he’s the man with the glasses and everything. 

Then I see Steph sitting on the bench. I haven’t seen her in like years or something I don’t remember the last time I ran into her. She’s all dressed up for war but says she came out of yoga and she’s got a little sweat on her brow. It’s funny how this always happens. You walk down the street, things happen. You see people you haven’t seen in awhile. People see you. They are so happy. We ride the train and talk about the changes that have happened in our lives and how much we have grown from little sprouts to blooming flowers or something. It's fun. We laugh, we cry, we eat popcorn like in the movies on the train. No, wait I added that we really didn’t eat popcorn but it sounds good. It would be very cool if we ate popcorn and we had our own seats and we watched the movie that takes place on the L train every day. It’s a fucking hilarious movie. 

It's like the time I saw last week when these people were on acid or something and they were laughing their heads off and screaming and they had no clue what was going on and then this guy started fucking with them while they were tripping because he knew what was going on. He knew it all. They flipped the fuck out and started trying to steal people’s shoes and all that jazz. So we kept going. 

We got off at Graham and walked for like a second and parted and then I saw a psychic place and I just walked by and thought nothing of it but then something said to go in, see what’s up. I wanted to ask her a question about crystals. I am interested in crystals. She didn’t want to answer my question without doing some form of business. She started telling me I am doubting things and that I can’t make decisions in my life and all this rubbish. I said lady listen I also have the same gift you do too. You don’t need to try and sell me my consciousness. I already have it and what you tell me right now is only going to be a projection and then I will take it into my consciousness and then it will come true and be real. It's no secret to me. 

She rolled her eyes and got annoyed with me which definitely led me, even more, to realize that she knew that I knew, she opened the door for me and said ok honey, you can go and I said aww thank you. You're letting me go, have a nice night. 

And that’s how it went. I laughed and then called Alex to tell her all about it. I said I would write this. Then I did.

Monday, January 26, 2009


And then Nasa said that they found the dark side to the sun. They never had seen this side of it before, they were always only looking on the bright side and I can say the same for myself. This was one of the biggest discoveries ever known to man inside of himself and outside in the far reaches of that infinite space that they always talk about. Everything in every reach of the outer and inner potential has a light and a dark side and it surprises me that they are just starting to realize this now but the most important part is that there is no way to separate them and make them into fragments or find the differences between any of it because if you try and do this then you negate the whole picture, the whole form, the whole existence of it and that is something I now realize through my own space exploration. 

I have been to the far reaches up to this point of my own discovery and am ready to move on from it and go even further, to places that no one has been to yet and I am going to take it all with me. I am going to be having a marriage for the positive and the negative they love each other so much now that both of them become one and you cannot even tell the difference any more of what you may think they are. They only appear to be one way to you because you still use your intellect to place them into places that they don't even belong to be placed into. They are breaking out of the box. They are moving into the groove. They are getting in the zone. You won't be able to stop them even if you try to because there is no stopping something that has to force and velocity of the whole of existence. To try and stop the whole of existence is to cancel yourself out too because without you, with me and without everyone we know all around us there is just this space, this place with no one to give it a name or to give it a meaning or to see it with their own eyes or to breathe it with their own breath or to write it in their own words, in their own tongues. 

The universe started with silence and nothing around and then it was conscious of itself and then it spoke, it spoke in a language that was much different from the language we speak now. It was a much simpler language not all garbled up with fancy words or colorful language to hide the real truth of what was behind the words. There was no man behind the curtain. There was no hero, there was no villain. No one was trying to steal anything or save anything. The world became the world. The sun became the sun. The planets all danced around in great joy and ecstasy for the celebration that everything was new and innocent and fresh. This was the beginning. It all started with silence and nothingness. It never started with a bang. That bang was when everything went wrong. That bang was the whole reason for the discontinuity of the whole of everything, of the possibility for everything. 

Once that bang happened, everyone got scared. Everyone was afraid of loud noises and then they made very large signs that said soft noises good, loud noises bad. Then the loud noise people went their way and the soft noise people went theirs and there was a huge protest and people killed the loud people softly and the other people killed the soft people loudly. Everything became a giant mess. People started to clean up the mess. Then people protested on the killing of both people, some protested on the cleaning up of the mess, some protested on leaving the mess as it is to show that messes are no good, so they killed more and more and more and then people killed because they said that killing is wrong so we should make an example of these heathens who kill, so we got together and we killed the killers to show that killing is wrong and this made the people who watched into their own type of killer, the enraged people who watched killing of killing people and then the earth stood still. Time stood still. It got that bad that time had to stand still. It got sick of watching on a watch. Watching all this craziness happen. It stood still. 

Everything they once had was taken away. Once it was taken away, they started to realize what they had and once they started to realize what they had they wanted it back but it was gone. It was long gone because time had said in silence that it was time to move into a new time and let go of the old time. The old time had passed away and before it passed away it gave birth to a new time. It celebrated. It had awakened into this new time and the time is now. The new time started telling everyone glorious things. It started to show itself everywhere even if it didn't want to be seen. 

It started to speak through this new consciousness but it had been there all along. It had been there all along only no one realized it but once they started to realize it the new time finally let them know that actually a new time had not even been born it was the same time that had already existed the whole time since the beginning only it was recognized as new time because people hadn't been looking at it with the same eyes anymore. 

These new eyes were the same eyes that had been here all along. These new eyes said remember who you have always been, what you have always wanted and follow the sun and follow the moon in its every which way, in its night and its day and never stop until you know the whole and that is just what it is doing and not doing at the same exact moment.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


Just woke up from a dream just now about a small town, a small world, a small frame of mind still clutching and grasping and holding onto the past and in this dream I played a character who destroyed everything in his path. Everyone wanted to stop me, they kept saying don't do this you will die, don't do that you will get hurt, don't do this something will happen, don't do that you are going against everything. I realized one thing as I was on this rampage. I realized that these are all just ideas in our heads and we want to impose them on other people based on fear. 

No one in the dream could prove what they were saying, they were all saying speculative things about something that had nothing to do with me. Along the whole way, it was fear speaking. Fear telling me to hold onto things that can either die now or we will hold onto for dear life our whole lives and die with. There is no certain path for life. There is no pattern to follow. There is no one person in this world to follow. There is the world, there is you, there is a feeling inside of you and you know it's there because either you will be talking against that feeling inside of you or you will be thinking against that thought inside of you or you will be doing an action that goes against that thought or you will be destroying your body against that thing that exists in you or you will go for it and you will let no one, nothing stop you. 

You are the very thing you have always wanted to come home to, every day, every moment. My next part of the dream was the church trying to capture me and make me a reverend, they wanted me to talk about god but only the way that they wanted to display it, a tired old story that needs to be buried. The novel called the bible was very well written and I am sure it probably helps a lot of people cope and understand with things that happen in life but it hasn't hugged a person when they have needed a hug in a restaurant, it hasn't had a conversation with someone who really just wanted to talk to someone that day, it hasn't given it's last money away when someone was starving and you just ate, it hasn't done anything to help humanity but confuse humanity as to the biggest, amazing potential that the human being is capable of. 

When the church finally caught up with me I had smashed one of their cars for chasing me and the reverend of the church came up to me with so much anger and hostility in his eyes and I said to him is it not you before me with anger in his eyes who talks about loving one another, about all these words of god that now are burning away from you. Is it not you who talks more about talking and less walk of the walking. This was a very symbolic moment in the story that really speaks to me, it is about facing your own mirror and setting yourself free and that reverend in the dream was me. 

He started crying and said that I was right, he has not known what love is and at that moment, he started crying he was free. Organized religion was destroyed and everyone came running out of the church throwing their clothes off and showing their true humanity. We are the creators, we create our own lives, we create every situation by calling it, by saying what it is, by feeling it, by seeing it, by experiencing it and it enters into our consciousness and physically turns into an experience. 

This can happen in an instance. The idea of god is dead. The potential of god exists here now inside of you, but you don;t have to take my word for it.

Andrew W. Mathis - "It is bad luck to be superstitious."


I have found that if you wait for someone else to do something for you or you wait for someone else to give you something you already possess then life is very difficult and nothing happens that you will take responsibility for. You are responsible for your own choices and decisions. Freedom is your own choice and no one else's, Love is your own choice and no one else's. 

The same people who say that they will give you something will disappoint you one day because there is a possibility that what is given to you from someone can be taken away and that which you do not own cannot be taken away. I wish Obama the best and everyone else in this world but the whole world is in the condition that it is in because people have not taken the time to realize their own potential, they have not taken the time to cultivate what is inside. 

These are not things that anyone else has the ability to give you, the will and the desire of who you are and what you want is the only way. Then it is possible that things will start to happen on its own accord. I cannot change anything that happens outside of me because it was never mine to begin with or change. If people want to kill people they will kill people, if people want to steal things they will steal things, if they want to lie, they will lie, they will do whatever it is that they want and we can continue to fight with them and try to tell them what they should do and be right on the opposite side of the very thing that is causing so much disharmony. 

If we want to see anything change in this world we need to become less identified with objects, paperwork, computer programs, stock markets, credit cards etc and more concerned with the way of humanity, with the love that is deep in our hearts and it is here now, are you? If you are here now then where else can you be? Can you not think about other things? Do you trust who you are? Do you trust what you say? Do you trust what you do? Can you move outside of the game?

"Change your thoughts and you change your world. This is what Norman Vincent Peale said and I agree somewhat with what he is saying, I would like to propose a new idea for this and would like to see the idea become more than an idea: Stop your thinking, see what you thought, realize it all as the experience, as the watcher, and as the doer, see where that get's you.


I tried to write about this experience in a way to suck you in and give you all the details of how I felt about it and how the air was and what happened but I got tired of trying to dress up everything with a bunch of words and aesthetic tones. So instead, I am just going to tell you the list of events that I remember. Ready, ok. We got up at 5 a.m. It was fucking cold. The wind blew like crazy. 

We walked for an hour and got down to the front lawn of the white house. I had no gloves on so my hands almost fell off. I was very tired and moody. That's a surprise. The wind continued to blow like crazy. I continued to get cold, so cold that I could feel the skeleton inside of my body and I could feel the whole insides of my brain. I wanted so badly to have a pair of gloves and as we walked my wish came true. 

We found mismatched ones here and there and everywhere. Then a really nice man gave me a heat pack to put inside my pocket to warm up my hand. This helped a lot. Then we found a great spot real up close to the white house. There were way too many people. My toes started to feel like they were going to freeze off so I decided to leave and walk back. I started walking back and people were running forward, some people even asked me why I was going the other way and I said I was done following the crowd.

One guy laughed hard when I said this, I didn't think it was that funny but he seemed to. Checkpoint after checkpoint I had to empty my pockets and let them use the metal detector on me. I didn't know the way back to the apartment but let my inner compass guide me and I walked all the way there in the right direction the whole time without asking anyone for directions which amazed me seeing how I had no clue as to how Washington DC was set up. I went back to sleep after I unthawed for an hour and slept the whole rest of the day away while the inauguration took place. 

I still don't even know what was talked about or what happened that day and I don't really care.

Monday, January 19, 2009


It was snowing today and it made everything all around the city really gray and tired looking or maybe that is just how I felt inside. We were on our way to the Chinatown bus without any kind of plan as to when we were going to go, how much it was going to cost or anything but we knew this is was we were going to do. It was a great opportunity to take pictures crystal said. I said hell yes, I want to get a shot of Obama, that'd be sweet. 

So we walked through all the snow, all the traffic, the Chinese people talking like daggers through the ice. We arrived at the bus and immediately police officers pulled right in front of the bus and we both looked at each other like holy hell what the fuck is going on? The cops got out and started giving the bus driver a hard time for not having a license plate on the front of the bus and instead having a temporary one on the side. This guy was a pro, he knew how the drill went so he let it all unfold and take its place, meanwhile, a lady in a wheelchair was screaming this that and the other thing about how people who don't have license plates on the front of the buses should never drive because you might get into an accident and who knows what is going to happen if you get into an accident and to hear this lady say this over and over again was really fucking annoying. 

The police were doing their thing, the driver was waiting knowing that they were just doing their job and then this lady in a wheelchair with nothing better to do sticks her nose in the business and starts wheeling around like she knows what the fuck is going on and I have nothing against anyone who has any condition of their life, I am a very compassionate person but I could just tell that this lady had nothing better to do and enjoyed this sort of thing, complaining. Then once she started complaining another lady almost got hit by a small Chinese woman dragging her cart of groceries then she started complaining about how the lady wasn't watching where she was going yet the lady was blocking the whole sidewalk not allowing traffic to move through it. It's always someone else's fault in this world. If you can't see how you have anything to do with it then blame it on someone else. So much easier. 

We entered the bus with a holy hell what is going to happen next kind of feeling. It smelled like shit. Smelled so much like shit I wanted to throw up. We sat and waited and waited and waited, then these people got on the bus, then more people got on the bus and it was almost full. Then these kids got on and started yelling at each other and one of them seemed really drunk and carrying a water bottle full of orange juice and he was pissed that the other kid in the back didn't save everyone a seat like it was his job that he was supposed to make sure that he who was not prepared to be there should get a seat before anyone else. So the king of fuck mountain started punching the other kid because the other kid said yo, son it ain't my fault and he said yo don't call me son, I ain't your son and then they fight. They fight, they fight and fight and everyone has Obama apparel on and is going to see the inauguration that takes place the next day and they are doing this shit. What the fuck is this shit, you are all going to see the big changes in the world that are happening and you want to be a part of it but you are doing the same shit that everyone has done to you, turning against your own brothers and sisters to fight for some shit that inevitably was your own fault. 

The class is in session, take note of things, be prepared and be ready, the test is always. So we get off the bus because there's blood flying, there's yelling and screaming, Martin Luther Kind himself would be saddened by this sort of behavior, it's everything he was talking about in those days and still nothing has changed. So we got off this bus and went to the bus in the back where we rode for 8 hours, the time it would take to go to Europe with the heat blasted on high and I sweat my ass right off. I actually don't have an ass I am sitting on right now as I write this. Congratulations you are an idiot. 

So that's it kids, welcome to this crazy world I am writing right now that I interpreted as what was going on. Please read this in a way that it can make you laugh and take no offense because life is funny and it is always happening. 

I am in DC now and am getting ready to go see what is going on. I bid you a good night.

Sunday, January 18, 2009


I can see it all now. I can see that I have passed through that midpoint again where everything was reversed like the tarot card meanings. I am starting to see the patterns in all of the cycles that life takes. I am the fool traveling through life walking to the cliffs edge, getting into as much trouble as possible, causing so much mischief and then inevitably having to laugh everything off after it all happens. 

Having to show people that things are fucking hilarious and not everything should be taken so seriously. Who should have the last laugh, you or death? I say fuck it, laugh death right in the face. God is a comedian and the universe likes a good laugh especially when it is at your own expense. It’s a hell of a view way up there on the edge of the cliff of the mountain you have just climbed and there’s a fucking dog following you everywhere. What goes up must come down, though, so if you climb way the hell up the mountain you have to eventually come back down into the valley again and find the next mountain to climb. 

I came down and ripped the experience into a million pieces with such a precise and extreme attention to detail that it ends up doing that same thing to you. It shows you everything and you laugh with it or it laughs at you. 

After the climb, you become the magician with the infinity symbol hanging above your head and you have the power to create something out of nothing but you have to meet this guy in the valley along the way that shows you the skill. He throws the serpent at you and it changes and turns into a cloth and that’s when you see if you are scared of the illusion or not. 

So that is it, that’s where I am at for today.


It saddens me to report that the change we could believe in has been replaced with our regularly scheduled program called sit around and wait for something to happen, anything. We were going to tell you to believe in something that might happen if you were willing to believe in what we tell you but instead we replaced it with your favorite show and while you are sitting there can you please pass the remote I might want to change the channel to watching the time pass one of my favorite past times or oh-oh-oh, look, history and its historical allegorical interpretations that have nothing to do with me yet I keep making it have something to do with me because I can look at my own sad history of nothing going on. 

Absurdly though people, when are we going to wake up to the fact that you can see throughout the two hundred some odd history that we have in this country that no politician will ever be able to give you anything that you don't already possess, when are we going to wake up and realize the same thing about the religious zealots, the right wing, the left wing, air force one, the plane that crashed into the Hudson river the other day while trying to plow through the natural migrative course that birds fly in and other such things. 

You can ask me if I have the answer and I will tell you I most certainly don't have the answer for you because you are you, I am me and we are we. This brings me back to a memory of when I used to shit in my diaper and my mom used to change it for me, I was so helpless and fragile like most babies but we are all grown up now kids, when are we going to stop shitting ourselves and waiting for someone else to change our pants for us?


Did you see that motherfucking shit! Mother-fucking pigeon came outta nowhere all flapping his wings and shit like he owns the ground or some shit and that motherfucker didn’t see the shit coming but the motherfucking car came outta the mother-fucking nowhere and hit that motherfucker into the next decade. That motherfucker ain't got no wings no more. I can't even believe that shit happened. You’d think that if you got wings you’d be flying way up in the mother-fuckin sky or some shit. Lemme ask you something, you got any money? Give me a dollar, that was a good story, right? I just told you one of the best motherfucking stories you going to hear all day. Gimme a dollar so I can get a coffee. You ain't ever heard shit as original as this shit.


Because the other night I went over there and decided that I was going to come clean, you know. I figured come clean because I’m tired. I’m tired of running game you know what I’m saying, because my game isn’t really that great and they all know I’m playing a game. So fuck it. So I told her about everything. I told her about how I’ve been seeing other girls and all that and she felt the appropriate emotion, which is what I would say is sorry. She felt sorry for me. 

We all love when people feel sorry for us, don’t we? Instead of getting mad at me and smacking me, which is what she could’ve, should’ve, maybe would’ve done had she been someone else. So I told her that I’ve been seeing these other girls and I see you sometimes and I don’t really know what all of the point of this is and I don’t know if it is going anywhere and then last night she started flipping out because, you know, she decided she liked me and that she wanted things to work out but I wasn’t really doing it because I never really do it but I said to her I’m not really doing it and I think that’s what got her really upset. 

Today I called her and all she did was talk and then I said; your not really listening, she never really listens. Then she started listening and told me that she stayed home from work and she asked me why did you come over that night and tell me all of those things? I said I think I had to for you to stay away and I think I need you to stay away because I can’t do it anymore and we can just take it like that.

That’s the story?

That’s not the whole story, that’s just the ending, that’s like the last part.

That’s for today?

Yeah, that’ll be like the last part of the whole part and you can record at the last part of the first part.

Ok, then next question.

How did you guys meet?

Ok, hold on a second. Let me get it together.


Ok, so B and I were out and I saw her from behind. I didn’t see her behind but I saw her from behind and she had on this striped shirt and I liked the shirt and I could just tell. I hadn’t even seen her face. I hadn’t even seen her ass. I could just tell. I’m going to get into this and see what happens. So I see her at the bar and I ask her some dumb question like do you know anything about the band playing tonight? She didn’t know anything about the band and we just kept talking. Then, you know. I got her number. I was pretty psyched that I got her number. I thought she was very attractive. 

So a couple of days later or the next day later or whatever, I don’t think I gave it a three-day rule or any of that bullshit, I called her up. She was down to hang out. So I told her I’d pick her up. Little did I know that she lived on 64th street in Manhattan, So, I was approaching Columbus Circle and she’s somewhere there and I’m driving in circles, metaphorically of course and literally, The, there she is. She gets into the car. She smells nice. She looks pretty but she’s sort of different looking too. So, we go to this bar Freddy’s. It’s in Park Slope. We end up in Park Slope somehow. 

What did we do? How did we end up there? Actually. Wait, I might have taken her to Grimaldi's. Kicking it romantic style under the Brooklyn Bridge. You know, cause I am a hopeless romantic. So right away I’m putting on the moves as like I’m going to marry this girl. We do it real romantic and I am scoring points that I didn’t even mean to be scoring but maybe I did because I love trouble and I seem to have found trouble. More than I would have ever known about in that point in time. So then we go to Freddy's. We get a couple of beers. It’s good. It’s just going well. She’s pretty crazy. She’s intense. I’m crazy. I’m pretty intense. So we decide to go to the movies. We stop and buy some alcohol before we get into the movies. We are drinking in the movie theater. We’re making out in the movie theater. We’re going crazy. It’s all going. We go back to my house. It keeps going. I never usually bust more than one nut. That’s just not what I do. I like to do it and you know go to sleep. I guess ideally, I like to do it and then you know leave because I am a dirty dog. Really. From a hopeless romantic to a dirty dog but no we go, again and again, then she sleeps over. Then she wakes up in my loft and they're kids living there cause I’m twenty-six and there’s a twenty-two-year-old. 

Remember too, she lives on 64th street. This is an uptown girl with an $1800 a month tiny apartment, making $70,000 a year. Which is a lot of money if you ask me. Now she’s at this crazy guys loft in Park Slope and she loves it. She’s slumming it. She thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. So we wake up. Probably did it again. I don’t even remember. We hang out. We go to lunch and before you know it, it turns into a twenty-four-hour date and you know; how do you feel after that? That’s not an everyday occurrence. Not in my life anyways do you find good people you have a good time with and just all that stuff. It’s just crazy. That’s just the beginning.


We flew down the old dirt road towards the prison camps at high velocities. Bill was driving in front in a small yellow Volvo and I was driving my mother’s gold Chrysler station wagon. It was dark out and we usually took this way as a shortcut for fun because you could drive through where part of the civil war had taken place many, many years ago. 

The woods had a very eerie feeling going through them at night because this was literally in the middle of nowhere with not one person in sight. If you broke down out here you were going to be spending a nice night alone. So it was us, the open road and nothing in sight because the road unfolded the more you drove on it, but we had done this so many times before that it was old hat to us. Sandy was riding in the car I was driving and if my memory serves me correct it was Terry with Bill in the other car. We were flying around one corner in the road and I didn’t realize it but the tires were really bald on the car I was driving, we went off of the road, hit a giant rock and flipped the car onto its roof, the radio blared really loudly, we hung from our seatbelts upside down and the only thing I was thinking about was Sandy and if she was ok. 

All of the change that had been on the floor was now on the ceiling. The little rocks, the papers, and road maps everything was upside down. The tires were still spinning above us, the windshield had collapsed inward and had come very close to crushing my skull in. We were lucky. We did something very crazy and lived to tell the tale. This near death experience would be one of the very first in my life where I didn’t care anymore what was going to happen next. Another thing that happened another time in the prison camps that is not related to this that I can tell you about is the time that Sandy and I went down into the ground where there were these long tunnels that went nowhere and one of them had this big incinerator at the end of it and it was very dark and reminded me of dreams that I used to have of the holocaust where I was a little boy.

Friday, January 16, 2009


This one time I was on the school bus going home with the kids and I was in this state of anger and frustration and one of my friends was sitting with me and he had a black magic marker so we decided to write on the seats. He wrote GNR which stood for guns and roses and I decided to take it all the way and write "fuck you" in very large letters, as big as I could get them I remember. 

This was my outlet, my way of dealing with all of the things that just didn't seem right around me. I wanted so badly just to really say it out loud to everyone but instead, the silence was killing me, so I did it silently to top it off. I feel this has been a lifelong theme. Silent destruction and being pissed off at the world and the way that it is but all I can really do now is sit back, eat some popcorn and let it perpetuate itself. I watch it collapse on its own foundation. I watch it like a movie and know that I can't do anything to change how other people view their lives and what they do with what they decided and what they chose for things that happen to them. It killed this part of me that needed to die. The projector is going. Everything that was buried from these times I have dug up and looked at and burned away for good. I have felt like I have been throwing the ashes into outer space where they will never be reached again. They fly through the nearest black hole. Get sucked up and disappear forever from this life.

So here we are now in NYC now reliving all these old scenes from inside my head of this one time that I had fucked everything up all in one moment only to make a huge wave that would end up knocking us down onto our asses. One year later. Seventeen years later, it never mattered about the time. It fell apart again. So surreal and so connected when it was on only to blow up right in our fucking faces. I know that there's something better out there now because it was never out there in the first place. The vacuum of space is taking it all away and although you can't erase the past, you can rewrite the present. 

It's all a done deal. It's already happened when you want it to. I now understand how hungry we are for happiness.


I remember she came over to the house one day and we all hung out. Mom made coffee for both of them and I played with some sort of matchbox car or something. I knew things were changing, I could feel it somehow. More and more every day. Then roughly a month later that's when the new man started arriving. Before this new man, there was another man before. He was the donor of my brother. I don't remember him too much at all. I only remember one night standing next to my brother's crib and watching him sleep. I don't really know why I did it but it was very interesting. I remember seeing big flashes of white light this one night while I stood over him. To this day, I will never really know what happened. So the next moment the new man is in mom's and he's appearing more and more frequently. This started to make me feel a little uneasy because before all this it had been just mom, brother, and I. I would have liked to write more about my brother but I have seemed to forget a lot of the different memories from these days.

So the next moment of change began. We moved to Ware, Massachusetts. Definitely a big change. This is when I started to become even more aware of the understanding of life up to that point. I understood that we were on, we were things that had some sort of idea that something was going on and we were apart of it. I remember the guy across the street raking leaves in front of his house. Fall and winter I remember the most of this place. I remember these seasons were the most when the man's behavior changed the most. There was this one night when I was sleeping on the top bunk of the bed and I was awakened by the man hitting me really hard in the face and hitting me in the stomach. Why he was doing this I am not sure of. I cried for most of the night through after this happened. I always wondered if my brother heard what happened that night because we never spoke about any of those things that happened in the middle of the night. 

The man started drinking more and more and started coming home later and later. I remember frequently waking up late at night with really bad growing pains in my legs. Everyone was wondering why I was up so late. It hurt so much to be able to sleep but at the same time I was so sleepy, like sleep walking. There was this other time I was walking around the streets by myself which is what I did most days that we didn't have to go to school. There wasn't much else to do in this shitty factor town loaded with drugs and misery. As I walked the streets I must have been about 10 years old or so. This one day I was walking I found a baby walking in the middle of the street in a diaper all by itself. I didn't know what to do for the baby but my intuition told me to put it in someone's yard where there was a gate that was open and a door also open to an apartment. There were people making a lot of loud noises. I always hoped that was the right decision in that time. I was too young to know what to do. I kept that memory to myself for so long and just remembered it now. 

Growing up in this small town showed me some of the darkest things that exist in people. I started to affect how I viewed people. How I viewed the kids at school, the kids on the street, the teachers, the bus drivers, the principals, the guy downstairs, mom, stepdad, brother, sister, and many other people I can barely remember. It built up so much inside of me that I started to withdraw even more than usual, I became more interested in what I could do alone. 

I started hanging out in the woods with the birds, watching the kids pass through and they would always ask me what I was doing out there hanging out all by myself. 

I wouldn't say much, I was just feel the wind, I would watch it flow over the ferns and watch the river flow over all of the junk that people threw in it.

Monday, January 12, 2009


What will happen when we have let go of the past and the future completely? Will we really live? These ideas really get me thinking about the structures of this systematic life that has been pushed on us since day one. You are born in a hospital and they take professionals to help bring you out of the womb and into the world. Then they send you a bill. Then they bring you home and put you into a crib and you sit motionless without anything to be able to say or do. You watch this piece of plastic spin in circles while mom and dad argue because it's been nine months since they last had sex. Dads feeling real sexed up but moms tired from all this childbirth business. Your too young to even fathom what any of this means but your ears are open enough to take it all in. Things like this happen over and over and over again. 

Dad says this, mom says that. They go at it for years. They teach you words that you go on repeating. You say moms name first because it's her that you spend most of your time with. This pisses dad off because now he's wondering if he's being neglected yet again. It goes from one thing to the next. Your a helpless little child and everyone is doing everything for you and all you have to do is cry and everyone comes to you. Then you laugh and everyone's laughing. Everyone's smiling. The game begins. I would call it the game of mimic. A mirror. Then you're old enough to go to school. They line you up outside of the school walls and all the mom's and dad's are there but they are leaving one by one. They are leaving you in the hands of these people, who while your parents are there are smiling and being polite. Some kids around you start crying because they aren't used to being separated from the parents and your just standing there confused. You see mom go. Where is she going? I guess it doesn't matter. You see this new lady in her place but something is off and somehow you know it has something to do with the same exact thing that you are going through now. You go into the classroom and they make you remember the alphabet like you forgot it. They teach you to share, they teach you to separate the differences between shapes and colors. They teach you the similarities. Then you start doing it to each other. You start seeing everything that is different from you. You start seeing the same. You start seeing girls as girls and boys as boys. 

You go outside to this thing called recess where you get to play for half an hour with the other kids but everyone is in groups, no one wants you to join one of them. They all tell you to get lost. You're not welcome in this one of that one. So you play alone. You start to lose interest in being social because you feel that no one wants to be social with you. You feel saddened inside. You want to share yourself with everyone, only no one wants you to. They see you as a threat for some reason and you are too young to understand why, or so they think this. You go back into the classroom and you sit in the chair and listen to all the things being said to you but you don't get what any of it means. You just sit and listen and they ask you questions but you don't know the answers they want you to know. So they all think that you are mildly retarded because you are quiet and because all you know how to do is take it all in. Then the bell rings and you walk to the bus. They form you into lines and you wait your turn. You wait and wait and wait. This girl keeps looking at you. You don't understand why. You wave to her and she turns red in the face. She blushes and seems like she doesn't want to talk to you so you become afraid and make every attempt to ignore all other girls from this day forward. Then you get on the bus and everyone moves to the outside of their seats so that you cannot sit with them. You find a seat for yourself and sit alone and you look out the window watching the scenery pass by as the driver stops at each stop and everyone gets off. 

You become more and more alienated from all of the people around you and feel that they want nothing to do with you at this point but you want nothing more than to connect, to feel alive with the people all around you but it all seems like a daydream. You get off of the bus and listen to it drive away and you walk to the front door and climb the stairs to the third floor of the apartment. Mom's cooking dinner. You play outside for the afternoon. Running around the yard. Watching ants follow each other into the hole they have made in the ground. Mom calls from the window and she says that dinner is ready. Come on up and eat. You say okay I will be up there in a minute. You walk up the stairs again and it always seems like forever getting to the top of them. You open the door with your tiny little hands and open the door and the smell of food wafts through the house. Your brother is there, your sister is there. This span of time has been stretched from the last portion that you can remember because in this time another man walks through the door and you know he's not your dad and it's not because he looks different but because of the way he looks at you. Then you flashback to a time you were sitting on the toilet taking a shit. Mom and dad were fighting. Dad opens the door and says he has to go. You don't really know why but you do know that you might not ever see him again. You come out of the bathroom and mom is crying at the table and she's wishing that things were different and that you have to go to work with her tomorrow. You say ok, fine that is not a problem. Whatever we need to do. 

You get in the car the next day and head off to some factory where you hang out and watch people put boxes together. You smell burning plastic. You see these chairs being put into the boxes. Mom works with these people that are so nice to you. You listen to them tease each other all day and eat turkey sandwiches. You watch them continue to put the chairs together then pack them into the stack of boxes that keeps on being piled higher and higher and higher. Then they are loaded onto a truck and after the truck is full they leave with them and take them off to some place to be sold, that's what one of the guys tells you. Then after work is over you get back into the car with mom and her friends and you peel off into the sunset. You listen to the rock music on the radio and watch everyone crack open a beer for the road home. They even give you sips of it which make you feel kind of funny but at the same time, everything is so hilarious, so hilarious and full of light. Then you remember a time when you are walking with mom on a very hot day and the street is being paved that day. The tar is so hot you can see the heat waves coming off of it. While walking from one sidewalk to the next her wooden clog gets stuck and you help her get out of it. She looks at you in a way that you haven't seen her look at you. She's so happy to have you she cries a little. 

You go to the grocery store with her to get food for dinner. You get a pack of Michael Jackson bubble gum. Then there's another time you are playing outside in the driveway on your nightrider big-wheel and some kids call you over underneath the porch and they say that they want to show you something. They get you underneath the porch and proceed to hold you down and one kid covers your mouth and another covers your nose so you can't breathe. You freak out and kick one of them in the shin. They let you go and you start crying because you don't understand what just happened but you know that you didn't like it. You run upstairs, mom asks you what's wrong? You tell her in the best way that you can. She calls the police and the officer shows up to file a report. You tell him everything that happened and you never see those kids again. Then there's another time that you are stuck in the house with some guy that you don't know and he's asleep on the couch. You are so bored sitting around the house doing nothing so you go outside and play in the driveway. You spend the whole day outside. He spends the whole day asleep. You don't notice each other at all. It's like nothing exists on this day. 

Later on, you walk back up three flights of stairs and you try to get back into the house but the screen door is locked. You start to cry and yell to be let in and that man answers the door naked, he smells bad and is very angry that you left the house. He rips you back into the house and hits you very hard, so hard you fall back on your ass very hard. This memory doesn't get relayed to anyone or anything for a very long time but it sticks with you. Then another day you remember walking so far all day to some house on the outskirts of the small city you grew up in. There is a van in the driveway. You go inside with mom and there is another guy that you don't know and they start to smoke in the house and it smells funny. 

After that happens, they get into an argument in front of you and it's real intense so mom grabs you and you storm out of the house together and walk back home. 

When you finally do arrive it is dark out and you are very tired so you go to sleep.