Nothing more annoying

There's nothing more annoying than arrogance.  You speak too loud, you laugh too hard.  You think too little about what you project on your surroundings.  Quiet your voice, budget your laughter, and meditate on who it is you think I think you are.

Dug this one up from October 2006...

Nice little piece from an 18 year old me that still (mostly) applies.  Had to share...

Thoughts on God. (Inspired by the article "The New Naysayers" by Jerry Adler of Newsweek.)

Before I Begin:
I don't know how many times I've felt as if I was not being taken seriously during discussions over "heavy" topics (politics, religion, et cetera). I guess there is some legitimacy to this skepticism, but I am a firm believer that even the youngest of human beings can be full of worthwhile wisdom and knowledge. In other words, keep your mind open. I am not going to simply rant.

I am not what I would consider your "typical Athiest". I was not raised among non-believers or even skeptics. A vast majority (probably between 85 and 95%) of my immediate and extended family members are practicing Catholics and about a quarter or third of those are devout. In fact, my maternal grandfather is a Deacon (sort of like a Priest who's allowed to be married, but without the power to "bless" things) who sent all of his children to private Catholic grade schools.. As for myself, I was raised under the impression that the idea that God existed was not just an idea, but an indisputable fact and I bought that line, unquestioningly and silently until the age of 12.

I don't know why, but I've always been (and hopefully always will be) one to question and investigate with a depth which many people seem to see as a waste of time or "unprofitable", as the Capitalist might say. However, it is this intrinsic nature of mine which caused my faith to sputter as I entered my teens and slowly lead me from thoughts of Christianity, to Judaism, back to Christianity, to Agnosticism, and finally to Atheism over a period of 5 years. I've conversed with friends and family on many occasions for hours at a time. I've read countless pieces of literture on various religions and the raw concept of religion itself, yet I still, like everyone else, cannot prove either side of this argument.

My position on the concept of God, however, is perhaps somewhat more complex than other Athiests'. For one thing, as a former Christian, I feel my understanding of the Christian way of thinking is at least a little more full than a large portion of Athiests. I think that the main belief which sets me apart from other Athiests is my complete disregard for the popular argument that the suffrage of the living represents solid proof of the nonexistence of a God, or at least one charachterized as loving and just. In the Newsweek article, "The New Naysayers" by Jerry Adler, Atheist author Sam Harris is quoted as asking: "How can anyone believe in a benevolent and omnipotent God who permits a tsunami to swallow 180,000 innocent people in a few hours?". The way I see it, God is seen by religious people as the overseer of not just the world, but of the entire universe. With that in mind, I believe that a natural disaster can be looked at relative to a parent (or overseer of a household) spanking their child. Obviously, I realize that a tsunami and a spanking are not at all comparable, but I think my point here ought to be easily understood. On the other hand, it should also be understood that my thoughts on this matter do not in any way represent the slightest amount of faith in the concept of a God.

The bulk of my Atheist doctrine lines up fairly well with the ideas expressed by the scholars in the article. My belief in the concept of evolution includes all of the scientific evidence provided in the article. By this, I mean to say that I believe that all human behavior has a rational explaination which can often be explained through millenia of evolution of not only physical, but mental traits such as personality and emotion.

If I could share only one reason for my firm belief in the absence of God, it would be this: fear and its relationship to mankind's seemingly inherent need for a sense of purpose. I believe that at some point in the history of man, this need for a purpose became so strong that we had to essentially, conjure up a "point" to this life and the idea of a God was born. Finally, everything could make sense. How was the Earth formed? How did we get here? All of these puzzling questions were suddenly answered with the simple belief that God willed it so. Centuries passed and a more developed human mind decided to find a way to cash in on this idea of God. Here we find the birth of religion. Using a cleverly devised combination of a loving God who will take care of you and the wrath of the same loving God, should you betray it, religion took hold of the two strongest emotions of which humans are capable: love and fear. Now, centuries later, the majority of our species remains captivated by this genius combination, with no relief in sight. I cannot imagine how I could possibly forgive the creators of this idea, this giant hoax so many have been fooled into worshipping as a God. By this, I mean to call the creation of God a betrayal of mankind against itself and for me to believe that the elaborate lie of God would be to betray my own self. I refuse to betray my own self. Therefore, I will always remain an Atheist.

-Rob

Just some thoughts

These are some thoughts I jotted down last night on my way home.  The sun had just set and twilight was darkening into night.  I'm not sure if this is prose or a poem yet...

Crossing the street, I felt the warm caress of exhaust as a car passed behind me and I felt loved and at home.  Then I smelled the warmth - choking, cancerous.  I knew it was death, but I craved it.  I am at peace in the swirling heat that I know will kill me someday.  I can not stop it - and I find that helplessly erotic.  Mmmm... the hairs stand at attention along my spine.  My arms pump full of blood, no - of life - life that drips... drips... drips from my ears.  As I continue I pass trees with browning leaves.  All that I sense is death.  Dark and looming death that coos like a young mother to a colic-stricken child.  Ssshhhh... hush now... As the warm draft passes, the cold grips my arm and I freeze. 

-R.K.M.

Lots to think about.

Argh as usual.  I'm trying to work, but I have too much other crap going on.  I'm (still) looking into grad schools and (still) having trouble knowing what my decision criteria should be.  I know what it is I want to study, but some econ programs are really theory/mathematics heavy and that doesn't really excite me.  Maybe it would be good, though - I just can't decide what to think.  I'd hate to commit to a program that was theory/math heavy and end up having to backpedal out of there when it kicks my ass.  Hmm......

Besides... Laramie, Wyoming???  I dunno.

For now, it's on the short list, which, if you're interested, currently looks like this: Colorado State, U of Wyoming, and U of B.C. at Vancouver.

But, as I look into these options, I might add others and subtract some.  There's too many options, so I always feel like I could be missing out on the best opportunities.  Climate is a major limiting factor.  If a republican wins the presidency, UBC goes straight to the top of my list, but by then I'll have likely decided/committed.  Oh, life... be easy, baby.

-Rob

More discussion on 9.11

These are a few comments posted by me on facebook on another friend of mine's topic...

we're actually less free. the terrorists won a small battle and we continue to commemorate it each year. Patriot's Day, eh? ha.


 I get that, from an american's perspective, we are commemorating fallen citizens and surviving heroes. Seeing the issue from the perspective of those who would like to see more dead Americans, this holiday is a rememberance of their victory. Unity is a false outcome of 9.11.01 that has been touted by our leaders, but not evidenced by any actions on the ground (easy example = the current domestic political climate). So no, I don't think it's harsh. Not even a scosch.


To me, Patriot's Day marks the unified acceptance of a foreign and domestic policy paradigm shift that has resulted in less freedom for our people. The USA PATRIOT Act is a merely a symptom of the ultimately blinding disease of nationalism. It's all due to misguided American political policy that was born from the ashes of the destruction witnessed on 09.11.01. We have thus created a holiday which, in effect, commemorates the adoption of a foreign policy that has normalized an unapologetic, self-righteous neo-colonial war machine.


-RKM

Creativity Requires Exercise

I've had the urge to write several times recently, but never at the right times.  So now that I have time, I have no ideas.  I wish I could not sleep.  Then I'd have time for everything.  I'd take 40 years of continuous awesome - let's skip the third that I'll sleep through anyhow.  Work, school, family and I'm losing my ability to write candidly.  I feel like I get great one-sentence ideas, but can't complete a thought without losing track of what I sought to illuminate in the first place.  I ramble, but nothing really resonates.

Memories of burnt flesh. What's with this country?  Buncha crackers with lemon tea tearfully suggesting that some righteous struggle against evil began a decade ago.  It's the same low-brow bullshit we've been fighting for for 60 years - because world-wide democracy will pacify our perceived enemies, right?  No.  As long as there is a split between those who have and those who have not, there will be suspicion and the hatred that goes with it will have us fighting the same futile battles again and again. 

War is a purely hateful endeavor.  There is no just war.  There are no ends that justify war by any means.  War is the tool by which weak minded peoples control the masses.

-RKM

Folksy

I am still working on the grad school thing.  Also, still working on the quitting smoking thing.  I'm out of buds, but not working on that.  I scored some great stuff at the library today.  Listening to it currently and moping around thinking about whiskey.  Folk music will do that to a guy.

Life has a way... away.

Ethiopian proverb: "The one who recovers from illness forgets about God."

I had an illness once.  And other times, too.  And I guess I never thought about god except to curse him.  I never forget about him.  Not with the Michelle Bachmanns of the world using him as a political shoulder-to-lean-on.  I heard she used homosexual and satan in the same sentence the other day.  It leaves little hope.  People will vote for these fools.  The GOP loves to dig up the corpse of Jesus of Nazareth and drape it over their cause.  And they'll continue to do so.  And who cares if it ain't right... If these are those whom you call believers, then let me forget.  I'm not as sick as I once was.  And I don't need the support of a God that stands propped up as the bigots' scarecrow.

Had to squeeze one in

May ends soon and it's been since the 4th that I've written here.  School ended up going well.  All A's.  And I'm getting an A in the class I'm in now (Brief Calculus).  I'm enjoying my field work, but planning to move on in the fall.  I have had a few job offers and I'm not sure how to turn one down - I've never been "in demand" before.  I hate being disappointed and also hate to disappoint, so I feel bad about having to turn people down.  It's especially shitty because I actually regard all of my prospective employers with respect and am certainly interested in each of their research projects.  But I need to discover what's in my heart and choose.  And I think I've made the right decision.  My goal in life has been to contribute to society at some level and to leave the world a more just place when I am through.  I think the way I can best use my intelligence and interests to fit these goals is to work with natural resources in a way that relates their use and protection to the human experience.  So I'm going to shift gears - from hard science to a more socioeconomic approach to natural resource conservation and restoration.  I'm excited to see where this will take me - perhaps to  an idea for a grad project?

-RKM

quick notes

Standing under the magnolia on a windy mid-spring day and I realize with petals all around me that life is...

Laughter off toward the horizon

Annihilation

Must destroy tests.  Argh!

B's on these tests mean A's in these classes!

Earning my way.

Outlet

Just needed to write something to get me going.  I have so much to do - I've gone into shut-down mode.  Must continue...  Don't want to... argh!  I'm so ready to be done right now!  I think I'm giving up.  Aw hell... we'll see.

A letter

So, this is what I had said I would post earlier - it took me a bit to decide I wanted to share it.  I began writing this on the 17th and finished on the 18th.  Feel free to comment as you please.

    Today is of those we aptly call "difficult".  It's a fair catch-all term to jump to.  I'm not sure just what to call today.  To find a word - the right word - to call today is to render unto paper what for now cruises about the air that surrounds me.  And the white of this sheet is too harsh for me.  I don't think I want to find the right word.  To find that word would be as it would to outwardly acknowledge the squirming, hideous difference between what I believed yesterday and what I know to be true today.
    I miss you, dad.  And I love you.  I still hold dear the memories we made together, with family, and among friends.  I am sorry that I have to do this.
    With platitudes familiar to all of us in tact - there's a time in a boy's life when he must become a man.  For me, that time was 6 years ago.  It was too soon for me.  I wasn't ready, I didn't know what it meant to be a man.  I was lost and afraid.  I was still just a damn boy, after all.  Gawd, if I could have been, I would have been.  With hindsight as my witness, I just didn't know who I was supposed to be.  The fact begs a question - who's fault is that?
    It's your fault, dad.  I'm really sorry, but it's your fault.  You didn't teach me how to be a man.  You just showed me and acted like being like you were was so easy that I should be able to just do it too.  But god be damned if I could.  It was like trying to be God.  I hated it.  I hated myself for failing at it.  And that was the worst pain I can ever remember feeling.  A chronic, shredding vulgarity at the cellular level.  Like my own skin was at war with itself.  And I forgive you for that.  You gave what you had time to give.  And I can't hold a grudge against a dead man with tripping over my own foot with my hands tied behind my back.
    Until recently, I dared not speak a word - even think a thought - that might stain my airbrushed image of who you were, what we had, and what that means to me.  But here it is on the table.  I'm blaming you because the only other conceivable conspirator is me and I can't be blamed for not becoming what I haven't been equipped to become.  Again, I say to you, I am sorry.  But sorry can't mend this seam without forgiveness.  What I need from you is forgiveness.  But you are not here to give it.
    So today is the day I forgive myself for being deceived.  I spent the last six years searching for tablets of stone that you never wrote.  I kept following a map for which I hadn't a key.  Chasing the dying sunset only to spit on my own boots in the darkness that I found.  Over and over again.  IMAGINE a loneliness and a puzzlement so loaded and dripping with desire to be rid of it.  To feel with all of your being that it's only you to blame.  And that if you can not fix it, that it is you alone who has failed and everyone was watching.
    In this moment of reflection, I get a rather Christ-like feeling for finding enough warmth to forgive such treason.  But it's not as chesty as it sounds.  I tire of tarnishing your gilded portrait.  It's okay now that you can't forgive me because I've become a man of my own vision with a spirit singed and still smoking but yet in tact and for that great accomplishment, I can be proud of myself.  I am ready to grant myself permission to be forgiven by the only one of us left standing - myself.
    For six years, I traveled the states seeking wisdom.  I thought I'd found it at many stops along the way. At the bottoms of bottles, the ends of plastic tubes, the butts of cigarettes, I found what I then deemed an acceptable substitute for manhood.  And also I found an enduring mechanism for avoidance that was working for me, I thought.  Of all these mistakes I have formed a messy pile marked for the funeral pyre.  Though I am quite sure that mistakes will continue to be made, I will not make the same mistakes again. I am ready for the challenges that peer at me from down the road.  And I am ready to do the right thing when I come upon them.  And that's how I know I've become a man.  I am no longer a boy.  No longer your boy.  I am a man now, dad.  And I don't need your approval anymore because I have my own.  I have created for myself a short lifetime of varied experiences from which I draw the wisdom that guides my actions and I have found success!  Oh, what a feeling!  To know that I have built myself, from spare parts picked off the floors, into a real hard-working, driven, loving, and gentle man!  I can now walk comfortably, glancing down and shaking my head with a smile when I recognize the dried saliva on my steel toes.  I'm not going to wipe it off. I want to remember what it took for me to become who I am.  Because unlike you dad, I'm going to give that experience to my son.  And I thank you for helping me to see the importance of that.  Your dad died when you were young - you were never taught to be a man, either.  But now, I'm going to break the cycle.  There will not be another broken man in the chain.  Because you gave me a reason to find the truth and I'm going to keep passing it along.
    So rest easy, dad.  Know that all the good you did is recognized and that all the wrongs are forgiven.

    Be proud, dad - your boy's become a man.

-R.K.M.

Notes on the eulogy

It gives context to something else I've just prepared and will be posted later today.

The eulogy from my dad's funeral. (by me)

    There has been a lot to think about these past few days. A lot of things have been said. Plenty of tears have hung from heavy eyes. Today, however, we are not here to answer the whys, hows, and what fors. This gathering is a celebration of life. The life of one of the finest men this world has ever produced: a man of true honor. Let us not allow the memory of Thomas Joseph Manatt, our beloved husband, father, brother, and friend to slip between the spaces of our finger’s grasp, but let us hold him in our palms and in our hearts so that he might live on in spirit.
    My dad was not just one of the biggest men I have known, but the greatest. His reputation as an honest and hardworking businessman is known second only to his reputation as a cherished relative and friend. He had an amazing heart, the heart of a giant, and everyone gathered here today has a space reserved inside his heart. When there was hatred, his voice soothed the anger. When others despaired, he gave them hope. When everything seemed dark, he was a shining light in our lives. When we were sad, he brought joy and laughter into our homes.
    He loved the fall when he could be out on weekends hunting pheasant, ducks, geese, deer, and anything for which he could get a license. Dad loved being outdoors in general, even if it was just to be out in the fresh air. He loved football.    He loved the smell of it, the sounds of the pads crashing together and the roar of the crowd as the Cyclones ran into the Jake, victorious again. Dad also loved his wife, and Mom was endlessly devoted to him. They stuck it out in an era where divorces are all too common. They kept each others’ spirits high, even when times got bad, and the encouragement was never one-sided, but always mutual between them. When things got rough for Dad at work, Mom was always there to cheer him up and when Mom’s spirits were down, Dad always knew the best way to lift them.
    Dad stayed true to his blue-collar roots right to the end. Recently, he told me that he would, “rather go back to digging ditches than have to wear a suit and tie to work everyday.” He loved his job and the people with whom he worked. He put a lot of extra time and effort in to turning out a quality product in honor of the family name.
    There is a lot to reminisce about when we think of any loved one lost, but when I think of my dad, it will always come back to his love for children. He was a lot like his own father in that respect. Something about the way he played with the neighbor kids never ceased to make me smile. He loved to joke and play and to teach them all the things he knew about the great big world in front of them. He knew that in those bright, sparkly eyes laid an innocent happiness that was not to be spoiled, and he loved them for it. In children he saw himself, still a young adventurer, out with his brothers and friends, scheming and stirring up trouble.
I know that I would have taken my dad’s place a million times. I think anyone would, but the truth is that he always put others before himself and he would never have had it any other way. Everyone here today will have their own way to remember my father, but I will always be reminded of him by the sounds of all things wild, from the bugle of a great elk to the sweet song of cardinals in my back yard. Although we come together during a time where it seems like there is no rhyme or reason to this tragedy and we might even be angry at the sun for shining, we must not forget that, “to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens.”(Ecclesiastes 3:1)

The new short list.

The currently pseudo-official list of universities I'd like to attend for my M.S. and professors of interest...

Purdue - Paula M. Pijut, Keith Woeste
Wisconsin - Raymond P. Guries
Michigan Tech - Oliver Gailing
Oregon State - Tom Adams, Steven H. Strauss
Berkeley - Richard S. Dodd
Tennessee - Scott Schlarbaum
British Columbia - Sally N. Aitken

Now... to narrow the field by reading some research papers...

More soon!

Get real

Change the arrangements on your face.

SO school was trying to drag me down, but I fought back.  I got organizized (Taxi Driver, anyone?).  So, of 2 projects and 2 papers due this week, I've completed 1 and 1/4 papers and 1 and 1/2 projects.  Lookin good!  And to think - just a few weeks left before the arduous field season begins - but at least I only have one summer class.

Keep crushin'

Even the president of the united states sometimes must have to stand naked.

...and it's all right, ma.

Thank you, Bob Dylan.

Today is my birthday!  Too bad I have crap to do all friggin day.  Work 9-11, Class 11-2:30, Work 2:30-5. Then the good part - meet Ma at the bike shop to (hopefully) get the bike I've been wanting for a long time now!  Then back to crap - meetings at 6:30 and 8pm.  Get home around 9 and do cash flow analyses until my eyeballs fall on the floor.  Then bed time.

What a lame birthday!

Positive vibrations.  Positive!

-Rob

Exam hell.

Sure wish I could fast-forward to thursday.  I'm not interested in finding out what this one's gonna be like.

Simple Joys Today

Turning a shovel in rich Iowa topsoil.  Reading a great poem.  Hearing a great poem read well.  Walking among trees.  Watching urban animals live out their relatively inconsequential lives.  Chasing my boy around the house.  Enjoying a cup of coffee and a long thought.

Life is good enough today to make today worth living every day.

Breathe!

I 've got myself all fucked up over this exam tomorrow - I'm going to do fine!  I always do this!  I always freak out, even though I've probably already studied more than almost anyone in the class, and then I do fine.  I wish the exam was right at 8am, so I wouldn't have to wake up at 6 and have 5 hours to pace around cursing about how fucked I am before the exam is handed out at 11.  I just need to forget it!  This would have to be the hardest test I've ever taken for me to get a low enough score for my grade to drop below an A, anyways! Crag crag crag... Sleep, I think will serve me better than continuing studying at this point... I"m going to bed.  After I look over my study sheets one more time... maybe.

Sobriety

I've been thinking a lot about the possibility of sobriety.  I'm not even sure that it's necessary, but it's more legal than what I've been doing.  Drugs and alcohol are not currently ruining my life.  They have nearly destroyed it in the past, though.  And those troubles with hard drugs have left a legacy that manifests itself in a weirdness that's different from the weirdness I've always felt is an inherent part of me.  I'm increasingly awkward and suppressed.  No, I don't like it.  I don't like it one bit, but I can't change it.  That irrevocable change in my capability for social interaction will serve as a haunting reminder of what a fool I can be for the rest of my life.  It's not easy to say this because no one likes to feel regret (most people deny it), but I do feel regret.  I regret that entire experience.  I wish I could take July 2006 through December of that terrible year and toss it away forever.  Not just the memory of it, but the entire reality of it.  What an idiot I was.  Chasing some unfeelable feeling that I don't get to ever have and maybe never had.  An illusion of what life should be or was.  I've lost the ability to recall just what it felt like to never have been an addict.  But deep within me I know it was better then.

So, why am I still getting high and drinking?  Am I still chasing that dream of what should be?  Really, the answer to the question of why isn't even that important.  The point is that feelings associated with intoxication are artificial - and what I'm concerned with these days is getting real.  Drugs and alcohol are not helping me to get real.  At that - what HAVE they done for me lately?

Well, I've always felt that there's something about smoking marijuana that enhances the human experience of the spiritual realm.  And I still believe that's true on some level, although I question the validity of my own belief.  Beer?  Well, that's just what we drink ("we" being my family, my friends).  It's part of my culture.  But there's nothing that it's really doing for me.  It doesn't seem to be working against me, though. And there's my dilemma.

What's the point of getting sober if drugs and alcohol aren't causing me any problems directly?  A pre-emptive strike on my use to eliminate unforeseen future consequences of my use seems silly.  I'm doing fine.  I'm just not entirely sure that drugs and drinking need to be a part of my life.  I don't see how they are making a direct, positive contribution to my life that can't be adequately substituted.

So I feel a spiritual connection to marijuana - what am I a fucking witch doctor?  I could probably get closer to my chi with yoga, veggies, and deep breathing techniques.  But I'm extremely apprehensive to make such a switch.  I've been using marijuana to get in, get away, go deeper, and mellow out for years now.

I am afraid of what it means to be sober.

What if I change?  What if I find out I'm an asshole when I'm sober - or worse, what if it makes me better?  I'm not too keen on forgiveness and I'd be pretty upset to find out I'd been allowing myself to lie to myself for seven dreadful, chain dragging years.

It's time for me to move on and be who I want to be.  I'm pretty sure that intoxication is holding me back from being whole.  I don't want to walk through life dragging pieces of myself behind me anymore.  I want to feel complete.  I want to be happy - to experience happiness in the raw.  I wonder if sobriety would help me get there.

Preservation

I've plenty to speak up about.  But I am plagued by some queer form of mental laryngitis.  It's an easy excuse.

Flowers for you

The sun is shining and the animals are springing into action.  The birds chirp, caw, and honk their way across the skies.  They pass from limb to limb, shrub to tree, stream to pond.  And the people - they emerge like baby tortoises skittering from the nest for the freedom of open ocean.  Ahh....  Stretch, yawn, smile.  It is a wonderful time to be an Iowan.

Pain for pleasure

Some say without pain
we couldn't  measure pleasure.
I'm not so sure.
What about fingerpainting
and fingerbanging with the
freshman girl who's name
doesn't matter anymore?
I felt pretty good about that
and pain was far away.
If it weren't for pain,
I wouldn't need these stones
in my gut that keep
the food down when I realize
that pleasure is temporary
and pain is on it's way.
I'm not so sure,
but it's nice to think about.

-RKM

Fact

I love ice cream.  and candy and family and jazz and being right and nature and sometimes civilization and

I hate pain.  and the opposite of everything I love.

(Exponential?) Intensity.

I put two spaces after my periods.  I always have.

My head hurts and I'm avoiding sleep and I don't know why - because I tell myself lies.  And I'm not sure what to listen to.  Or who what is or when mySELF is who it is.  And who that is?

Things unraveled on me.

Wish me luck

I went to see my counselor on wednesday.  Calculated insights.  I never leave unimpressed.  I'm already starting to feel like I'm turning the corner.

I have an important meeting today.  I'm meeting with the head of the Biorenewable Technology department at Iowa State - Dr. Raj Raman.  I'm hoping to come away with a pretty good idea of whether or not ISU is the place to go for my master's degree.  Exciting!

Thrashers need love too.

Avoidance

I am currently avoiding what I should be doing.  What is my issue with doing what I must?  I have completely fallen off my game.  It's time to hike up my skirt, grab my balls, and get back in the groove.  No more waiting and off putting.  DO DO DO DO DO!!!!!

The current list of schools on my radar...

Univ. of Montana, Univ. of Wisc @ Madison, UC Berkeley, Iowa State Univ, Humboldt State Univ, Colorado State Univ, Purdue Univ, Michigan Tech U, Univ of Idaho, Univ. of Notre Dame

It's non-fiction, so it's not funny.

Thank you for showing us what we could not have seen with normal eyes.  They must have put something in the whiskey.  History repeats itself and the resonance of your words will outlast the violence of your exit.

Buy the ticket, take the ride.

HST (1937-2005)

It will rip you apart.

Don't worry.  It won't last.  But I don't have to tell you that.  It's been clear from the beginning you only did it to squirt lime in eyes and piss on it because it doesn't matter anyhow.  Slaves will rip holes in your clothes.  Then who'll know what's what?  And wher've you been that you think you've got the right to hold your hand out like that - palm down, so the earth can kiss your wrist while you trapse through the racks.  It's only money.  And you'll see.

It's all in your head.

The power lies within and the resistance sleeps with it.  Like that girlfriend of your friend who thinks she lives at his crib.  She slinks around like a harsh vibe waiting to catch someone say something adverse.  POUNCE!  Party's over, bitch.

CRreaaaashun

Free free free free free free free free free free.

Lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost lost.

Done.

Argh.  My neck is killin me.  I need to rectify this situation.

Hells bells.  I got a swingin grade on my test today.  Felt like a million bucks.

So I was a walkin' down the street the other day - jist walkin' and not mindin' nothin' goin' on 'round me.  When I felt somethin wet hit my eyebrow.  I touched my brow with my fingertips and wiped it with the back of my hand.  I still don't know what the hell it was.  Weird how stuff like that just happens and I'll never know what the hell was goin on.

Morning Music

There's nothing like a side of empowered reggae with the morning coffee.  A little Bob and some Burning Spear to make you rise up out of your slippers and sing!  Praise life.  We keep moving with our spirits suspended on notes aimed for unknown heavens beyond.  The sun is the great engine that sustains us and brightens the path.  We simulate it's power with fires that burn bright and cast shadows of the rumba in the heart of the darkness that we no longer fear.  Reject fear and embrace life!!

Pay the man.

Put your time in today?  I'll put it in tomorrow.  I'm tired today.  I need to eat first.  Coffeeeeeeeee.  Mmmhmmmm.  If I just keep my fingers moving maybe eventually things will start coming to me that are worth writing and I won't feel like a failure.  I wont feel like I had a gift that I've wasted - cast into the gutter drowning somewhere between a thin layer of oil and the running snowmelt.  Pouring down a storm drain and washing into the river where the fermenting dreams of yesterday poison the invertebrates that poison the fish that poison the people who shit and puke that rotten fucked up forgotten nothing back into the toilet and flush it away to a plant that bleaches it clean and drinks it claiming it tastes just fine.  Maybe if I just avoid  periods - I could be the next Dalton Trumbo!  I can just write and write and write and theres no need for any punctuation because its all just distracting us from the content anyways right I mean what matters is the words the words the words and how you put them together

See here how everything leads up to this day

I have very little to say.  Not sure why I'm doing this again.  Writing is life for some and merely death for many.  When I sit to write I feel somehow concussed.  Like I've beaten and shaken all of the written words from my head.  Skill has left me.  Syllables flash across my mind's eye.  I smash them together and come across as inhuman - blator incogrant fartomic slaynick - like a portrait puzzle pieced together without a thought to take time and make sense.  Coo me to sleep.  I need sleep.  I got a warm heart and cold cold fingers.  Blow me away.