Gone to goin'

It feels here and fearless quarells bring clear expectations of the nature of death

come with it and fear less

sometime bliss never expected

ah soft summer kiss

ah moonlight

ah to the best of us and all the rest

of us without

it feel the beginin

its goin to be the end for me

Sometimes fires don't burn strong enough

warmth always fades

im sure of blues and whispers

not sure of all that i say

if you wait will i wait?

my thoughts rest on you and simple expectations.....

be there....

that is all....

i couldn't even do that.

If it makes you uncomfortable than I'm doing my job,
If you feel something than it is done right.


Can you join me in this last instant

followed by no other

from this world or its sister existance

spotted like a leopard in growing trees

life exists here more than anywhere else






If I fail....

I will fail trying.


When I die,

the feeling will live on.

If I die tonight

wait for me no more.

Tomorrow never came

without reason for waiting

i too serve the purpose of whatever it is that says I go....

which i will....

and i ain't never coming back

not in this body,

not in this soul

still at work,

searchin for home.

Its this last minute

this is the one that matters

none of the ones before do

and neither did i

before now

before then

before ever






A spanish women came to the bedside,

she made that mistake to say the words all right

it aint never gonna happen

at least not no more

for chances came

then the gone to goin

we fell instead of standin

and that felt guilt of regret

along with sister sympathy

They cure no beside time,

nor do them women give more.

it gonna happen sooner or later

she falls,

as do i

and she waited

longer than i could.






Time to light the lungs on fire in one last breath. inhale........

let it out but feel what it was like when exhaled

breathe


ah


too much wasn't ever enough

too little aint enough


done with the words and worry




When I go...

That woman gonna finally feel that happiness thing

when i go

gone already.

Gone to goin'

all the way till the goin's gone

Drink up. We're snowed in.

It is dark and the wind's howl is increasing. Waves sway over the shore and onto the snow covered streets. I walked through feeling the need to howl but I waited. Now the vocal chords are strained an speech is no longer possible. The bourban is the only thing to look forward to.

My god. Nothing can save us now.

It has all gone too far. We are too late. They're here. Run.

Every drunk drinks water before they sleep....

Well, the smart ones do and I am beyond that. The headache can often serve as a useful reminder. So what if the booze inhibits the words? It allows the breathe to be spoken in the tone of soft words to women who will listen regardless of the time of night.

"Im an idiot, Im a fool. I know." - Hunter S. Thompson


That is it and we shall let Bob Dyalan's Mr. Tambourine Man sing the blues in a way that no other melody could...


Yes I will die on my own accord but that is for me.

For you I will always leave these words.

(Just for perspective this must be known. These words are spoken through smiling eyes when life is at its best. If nothing else happened, I could still take my last breathe with happiness.)


This is romantic and strong. I am nothing compared to these words. Nothing could say it worse. I am beyond that and left right now in a moment where I am alive and waiting to speak.

I wont go until you let me. Don't let me go and I'll stay for the willing. Listen and i'll talk. If you don't I will still speak anyway. That is my duty and my responsability on this earth. What is yours? Will you find it?

Selina.....

You are watching. Don't mix the beer. I hung up because I had to. The end was near. Now I wait for your sympathy and wonder about the trees and which way they will sway during night winds that could blow my hat off and down the snow covered hill all the way to the ocean where it could, and would, travel to Canada if it happened. This is about you....

READ THIS NOW OR YOUR LIFE WILL CALL YOUR MOTHER A WHORE!

Even if I could choose a different life I would keep the one I have. I'll take it again and again. Now bring on the whiskey, the wine, and the women who will love without understanding. It is perfect unless it is thought about. Bliss lives eternally until we intervene..... then...... well...... we'll see..... after all..... it is up to you...... TO YOU..... and Me..... MAKE IT HAPPEN NO MATTER WHAT IT IS. I'll watch and smile the way your mother nver did.

A thought.......

I think I am writing my own autobiography while writing the stories that make it worth reading. Listen in and be the first..... This will soon become the stuff of legends. For good or ill, I will be the one who inspires. Or maybe I will be the one who dies. No matter what happens, we can no longer hide. It is here and there is no distance we can go running that can make it fade away. This is real and you may not b alive tomorrow. Live it now. If you don't than you are the one who suffers most. But don't forget the world. The world will miss out. You selfish bastard. Get to work. Its beyond you. Its beyond any of us. It is a matter of life and death.

An impression.......

Are these words written by the sixth glass of whiskey? No. They are left by me and this willful moment that I have taken for my own because none of the twisted pricks ready for it have claimed it. I am left without a taste for right and you are alone. Let's buy the false believers a few shots. Don't forget that I'll take a few for myself. Follow that with a few more and the beginning will begin. I'll need a good buzz in order to be sober in a way that I can handle it. Shit, it's free and I don't complain about that. I am but one. I am a man. The only man. A quote that I will take because it is too short for any man to own. Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe the freaks just lost their power without realizing that it was real all along.

We yell when it is necessary. We would yell for help if someone needed it. Well, the people do, so start yelling at the top of your fucking lungs. We wont live forever but neither will they. If we fall, than we have an opportunity to stand. Take the opportunity. There is no time for guilting one's self for falling. If you read this than respond in a way you see fitting. After all, you are the future and I......


well, I am just a pawn here to ignite the flames. Let it burn. Burn mother fucker. Burn. I'll watch but I will never put the fire out. Orange is the color that will be the last that you see. If I am sick than you are too.


Existing is a bore unless you swim in the Atlantic in December. Christmas in ice covered waters is nothing to mess around with. My feet are so numb that the snow couldn't do a thing ven though it is still the fluffy frozen reincarnation of water. You too will be reborn. Just listen and you will here the verb you have been waiting for....

If I leave the country, then what?

What if I go and don't come back? No one will come and find me. That is what dates our country more than any other personality characteristic. We are too good to care. If we were there in 67, the summer of love, the San Fransisco pinnacle, than perhaps we would all want to stay. Don't worry though. I will. I always have. I'm here for you and nothing more.

Sure. They will find me. And let them try to collect the payment of their bills which show true debt that I have incurred. They will try and I might pay a little but nothing more. Still, I am beyond monetary value, just like all of you. If no one paid their bills than we could all win. I'll start the trend and you have the choice to follow. Don't let the mothers and fathers allow you to feel the fear that ruled their lives. If you choose to hide, make that choice your own. Don't do it until the moment is right. Even then question your motives. Do you believe you have the strength? I know you do. The question is one of belief. If you have that than you have everything. Take it. Take the world. It is there waiting for you.

I am Edward's Master....

If you listen than the wind will carry you through this pitiful moment with my lungs that can barely breath in a place where I wont stay for long therefore I will not find the company of beautiful women. Those like the waitress in her sullen pink shirt and the pants that accentuated her simple rear end in a stunning way. She looked as though she understood but the pants were probably worn too often. To find a pair of pants is one thing. To find a pair that makes an ass look like the face of God is another. If we take this initiative and smoke some of the freshly grown green from the Vermont mountains, places where the choppers don't see, than we will feel that enlightened sense of what could be, although this reality will most likely come with fleeting possibilities of perception. If you have a goal make it a good one. Simplicity has been done before and to no avail. Let it happen and feel it. I'll write it down.


Ignor this terrible drug....pretend it's nothing.... - Hunter S. Thompson

Something is happening here but you don't know what it is.......Do you Mr. Jones? - Bob Dylan

Is it possible? If I called you to action would you step out of the shadows and join me? If it were possible would you stand up? If I could sing would you join me regardless of the fact that you can not?

What if I could and what if I will?

Are you ready to feel the truth? If you are not you better find a hill with a jagged peak to hide behind and pray for your dear lord. Perhaps she will save you. My words will not.

Its fun....

With all of the medical problems that have come about I have stopped my filthy habbits....

Have you ever lied?

I have.

I just did.

Now in Maine. Then made it possible...

Rapid updates from this outpost on a snowy night covered in last evening's white dressing which provided great fun to us bourbon drinking drivers out for a spin. Tomorrow promises another blanket that will attempt to shut down roads and bring the traffic of north eastern life to a halt. It is spectacular with the reality that nothing can be planned we are left in the reality that our creature comforts of power and water may disappear for the night and perhaps the following days.

Maybe it is the bourbon that speaks instead of me but instead of whining about it I will let the words be written no matter whose at fault. Is it fault or just another melody whose off pitch tune sings a song no one wants to hear. Bourban will do that and leave you in the dust to think about your mistakes. The car is stolen and your wallet is empty. What next? Just wait and see.....


___________


Like a freak power ticket, a moment in waiting comes to life at the disgust of the public. Maybe the american dream is gone but even if this is so I will pretend to live it regardless of the consequences. Let them lock up the believers and shrink the dicks of the young men with just enough potential. I will struggle through and you should join. The benefits for a moment like this are not worth struggles beyond ones grasp but if we think about it for a moment, the struggle we believe to be unbeatable is nothing but a simple bump in the road.



If we cry than no fault can be given. Tears solve old wounds and their salt makes them sing just before closing and becoming new skin.


________________



Take it and feel it because we are not beyond it. You can laugh. I will too. They will still wait in hidden kitchen coves or breakfast nooks to hear of the news from our latest travels. They will wait and we will sing for them. Fuck it if we live without rhythm. We are just mimicking the story of a forgotten life like all of the rest. Me and the rest of the wanderers who frequent back ally bars waiting for whatever happens to happen.

Infinity is what i am here for. Join me. Wont you?



I'll be in Maine preparing for a swim in waters with broken ice. Call the phone and I might answer your noise.

Bum bum bum bum....

And a violin is strummed in accompaniment. I wonder why the temperature on this wintry Vermont day is so warm. The ice can barely keep its composure. In fact, much of it has let go and gone sliding down the low end of streets into gutters and, from there, down the long path returning to the ocean, or a river at least.

The moments of wonder that accompany a typical morning are slightly restricted with the weight of academic responsibilities and the dawning of final exams. Even with a funneled thought process and recent memories of a weekend that has ended in a different world than it began, I am still free and creating with each breath. Time is passing and it is felt through a chilly breeze. I guess the cold is never really gone in the mountain valleys of New England in December.

So what to the madness of whatever the hell has happened until now. The book has begun and my desire is now equaled by my ambition. Perhaps if some of my creativity can slip in between I'll write the novel of a lifetime. If not, I'll change the world another way.

I know what I don't know, at least most of it, and that gives me the freedom to stop trying to figure it out and just live. Take my advice and dance because you want to, past the point of feeling strange vibrations, and all the way to a constant smile and the freedom of tapping feet. I believe that I am starting to notice the same writing about the same themes and my examples are not changing. I have told you to dance before. So strange. Is dancing really the key to it all? I don't dance as often as I speak of it. I just want everyone to bask in this heightened freedom that is given the company of infinite possibility.

My god I need some breakfast before these strange metaphorical rantings take control. Waffles could ground me but I am out of eggs.

Ha! So what to the critics and cynics. This is the world of kings who gain power from seeing and realizing. Why am I wasting my time telling you what you already know. Just live it and believe it. The world is yours, or mine if you don't act quick enough. Intense. Good thing there is enough for us all as long as we play nice.

Reincarnation of the genius

Is it true? Is the genius now a breed banned by extinction? They ask it, or tell it, but I don't listen when things are told so I consider telling things questions so I can contemplate what they mean. Einstein is the last great genius. Little do they know that there are many men and women of epic mental potential waiting in the winds to walk out and revolutionize our concepts of anything and everything.

I understand that Einstein's radical concepts and ideas have revised the meaning of life in the book of the individual, as well as in the movie of society, but I can not be coaxed into the belief that he was the last. The last of anything is a scary thought but fear doesn't give birth to an alternate reality. It is something more. If he was the last and the problems of now are worse, than what can we say of hope? Must hope be called a quitter?

Perhaps the next great genius will not revolutionize the science of the mind or develop laws in physics that simple people don't understand but instead just accept. The next great genius will do more than provide an answer and a description for the intellectual asking minds. What happens in the future will be redefinition and the repercussions from such a vast revolution are incomprehensible. But if we believe in good, than perhaps the ripple of reinvention will produce betterment. Good in the sense of positive, not in the categorical sense where good faces evil, but instead in the opposing breathe of negative, as in an electric charge or a moment in time and space. The antithesis of negative. This is it and then comes whatever the next genius will create.

Isn't that it? Can't we call genius creativity? Creativity may mean artistic which may also give thoughts of new age artists who place entire bulls with large metal golden rings over their heads into massive glass tanks of formaldehyde. This, although possibly perceived as genius by some, will not be received as a genius for the masses. Nor is this work done for their practical benefit. For those of you who do not understand the reference of golden rings, bulls, and formaldehyde I must tell you that this is considered art of a genius. Although real, it is of little importance. This serves as an example. As do I and all of you. We are examples, with designated numbers that describe nothing, and if we choose we can step outside of this and become more, or less depending on your desire for change. A genius can take either path, but surely many more geniuses will come. Surely giving up is just a plot to draw them out. If we call to the sky and say, "I don't believe you will ever rain again," we will surely be wet fools during the next thunderstorm.

So where are you? What are you doing at this moment? Geniuses of the future, great thinkers of now, put down the remote, pick up the book, sing the song of possibility and get to work. I may do what I say at times but more often than not I simply desire to be the catalyst. So let's begin and see what happens. We are each human beings filled with genius potential. Anything can happen with the path of life and the cultivation of the human mind. This is beauty and potential wrapped together. Put them in the oven at three hundred and fifty degrees for twenty minutes and out pops a genius. If that doesn't work, than I will wait for the world to bring them into the light for me, for us, for the progress of humanity. Let's make the call and see who answers. I'll be sitting in the mountain valley for now waiting with a smile for whatever happens next but knowing that never giving up is the only option.

God, Pants, and Weather

Okay God...... Here we go!

So you want it to be sunny? I have work to do and I was focused on the rain. This is the last time I will stand idly by and allow you to pick the weather for my weekends. In the future there will be repercussions for such actions. That is they key! What happens if this happens? Well God, maybe you know exactly what happens, but I might just be crazy enough to pull a trick on you. Put your fighting pants on and step into the ring. Its go time.

That felt like a waterfall of milk flowing through my ears and down to my ever evolving navel. Even when there is nothing to say words will still come out.

There will be more to come.....

Always more to come......

How to begin a Wednesday

This morning is like every other in the sense that I wake possessed by a sickly confident smile that reminds me that anything is possible. Fantastic! My house is a mess and I have no food but a good shower with music blasting acts as my breakfast. The tunes come from a radio that I haven’t yet named and my warm towel hangs over the heater waiting for me to take advantage of it. I sing with water on my face and smile. Mornings are the rebirth for another day of this twisted life. Today I will write the story of what happens tomorrow while living in the world I created yesterday.
I will begin my sentences with whatever word feels it is important enough to come first. Then I will follow the beginning of each sentence with its middle and an end. There will always be a place for me in between the words but no matter what I am writing this for someone to read. Are you someone? Well you'll have to figure that out for yourself. I can barely find a pair of matching socks so I may not be of much help on your journey. Ah! The Journey! Is that what this is all about?
I shower, I dry, I dress and cross the street. Then I stumble upon now and my coffee is getting cold. The café fills with souls wanting to find whatever there is to find in this day. I will sit back in the dusty corner listening to show tunes and waiting to see their smiles and the moments of accomplishment when experiences are shared giving life to the feeling of love. That's what is felt between you and I as you read this and I write it. This day, these words, this story of a moment that I have decided to write about is a conversation where I give and you receive while at the same time I am grateful for you receiving. Love is the glue. That may be all that is needed to put a positive spin on the next step of the journey that will take us all away if we just let go. If nothing else the previous sentences have joined us in a bond of not knowing what the hell is being talked about.
Then again, are we strong enough to truly let go? Perhaps as writer and reader we can engage each other in a way that distracts us from the fact that we are about to jump off a fifty foot cliff into the dark water of life. It’s kind of funny considering that each second we are leaping off another cliff without ever realizing that we only stop falling so that we can start again. Get used to it, I say to myself thinking about the beauty of a rainy day while looking at the shining sun through the window. I think I'm going to drive until I get a flat tire and see what happens next. Come with me. If the tire doesn’t go flat I know we’ll eventually run out of gas. Then the adventure begins.
Another cup of coffee sweetened with a fuck off to the dentist as I put three scoops of sugar in the mug. My teeth complain slightly but the smile I wear quiets them by providing purpose. All it takes is a walk over a span of ten feet to see all that one needs to see. A man with a hood over his head sips coffee reading an article about tourists going to space, a woman wearing a fluffy purple coat sits at the coffee bar laughing uncontrollably, and the room where I sit is slowly filling with other mad typists telling there own stories or commenting on mine as I comment on theirs. How strange would it be if the last part was true? All of us sitting here looking at bright white pixilated screens telling stories about what the other ones might be thinking. It is just a symphony of simple appreciation as we share this air with quiet contentment while never saying a word.
I’m reminded of a love that left my life with a flash after I decided that nothing was good enough. She had brown hair and we had a dog. I left every morning to go to school and she left to go to her job. I would smile and she would cry. This was our life and not a moment of it needed to be experienced alone. There was always the company of each other as the days and nights managed to pass leaving us with the fallacy that this was it. It wasn’t for me. At least that was the choice that I made as the summer began. There were tears and hope was disguised as fear for a while but I am in this café at this moment because of that decision to let go. Looking back is part of living now and writing tomorrow.
More strange thoughts erupt inside. There is nothing special about anything I do for the simple reason that anything I do can be done by anyone. The same is true for any of us and anything we do. Still, I can’t help but wonder if the hooded amateur space traveler would receive any significance right now if I didn’t decide to tell you his momentary story. In fact, I know I am giving this moment, with all of the people who surround me, eternal life. I wonder if they know that they are going down in history as I write. Then again who the fuck am I to think that I'm the only one giving this moment life. I may be one of many in some unseen chain of individuals who think they can play God with words. My smile grows as I laugh at the possibilities of life and the stories we could write about what might happen.
I am not God unless everyone is. Then again, I have loved another. I'm thankful of the feelings of loving one as honestly as I have. This gives me the strength to let go of what I can’t control. I let go of my thoughts on the brunette and, sadly, I let go of the dog. Now I am back to this experience that I have spent the past few pages touting as something worth reading, something worth living, something worth something. Don’t keep yourself from laughing if life gives you a chance to smile! Shit, have we lost the point?
Maybe we found it. So let's get back to it. The day began as days do, I drank sweet coffee, watched a man contemplate a trip to the moon, thought of love, imagined rain on a sunny day, and now I am asking you for the validation of whether or not this experience has any significance. Now I have answered my own question. The time has barely passed eight in the morning and this day has already taken me through many moments and the reminders of many more. If I wake each day with coffee and company, contemplations on love, hope, and fear while experiencing the moment than I have lived enough before nine in the morning to pass comfortably from this life. This brings the greatest smile to my face and it leaves the feeling of warmth that determination carries with it. Though I am confident that I could give the world an honest smile if I passed away this second, I have a feeling that I may have the joy of living through many more mornings before I go.
The streets are once again full of people doing people things. I wonder if they realize that this day holds infinite possibilities. I wonder if they smiled when they woke. Laughter echoes through the café reminding me that it may have been the smiles of strangers that made mine possible. Regardless of what has caused this experience of love I am proud to be a part of a world that gives us such amazing gifts. This is the reason we are alive. We’re here to exist, to feel, to love and accept whatever comes in between. Life has a beauty that can bring any man to tears at every moment. Life can also be defined by the madmen who stay awake to laugh at the moon or those who notice them. Life is whatever you want it to be. Laugh at yourself and smile for no reason. Write the story of tomorrow with the actions of today while always keeping in mind that tomorrow may never come. If you need to say something, than say it now.
As the day is still beginning I have trouble bringing the spouting of these words to an end. I think I’d like to ask for your help. The words will end but that means nothing if the feeling continues. If the joy of love really exists, and if just for a single second you can believe in this than we can all experience true bliss. If that is too poetic or it smells faintly of bullshit than bask in this expression of the philosophy I have been painting on this page: Fuck the pompous whore that is doubt, grab hope by the balls and ride it until you lose control!

There is no music accompanying this entry

Presently I am outside of Augusta, ME in a little house with rolling fields behind it. It is quiet here and the chill from outside finds a way to creep through the walls in certain spots. There may be some sort of bland existence present right now but I have no desire to be a part of it. This is simple and I don't really know how to say what I feel. There are emotions raging through me from past pain, recent loss, and this sense of loneliness that has come to fill the hollow space next to my heart. My good friend sent me a text message last night saying that he thinks I understand him and that he understands me. Well no shit brother. We are family and have been for years. There are friends and then there are brothers. There wasn't a day in our lives when this guy was just a friend. He has always been a brother. So why the doubt? Or the need to reassure me of this truth via text message? Have things gotten that bad in New Jersey? There is not always time for outside reassurance. I am in Maine. Therefore, I must rely on my mind and the golden fields stretching past the backyard. Well Ted, the feeling is mutual. We both are understanding of both being understanding of each other. Lets just simplify this. We are brothers.

There is a pretty heavy cynical tone I am feeling through these words. I'm not happy to see this feeling present. Then again, this is the chain reaction of emotion in action. Not being happy about this makes it worse, or perhaps it gives me the ability to look down at my clicking fingers and wonder what I could possibly not like about this. This act is not lacking pleasure, but the motivations behind it are not pure. There are other things to do before I can continue on about the travels through Maine and the journey home tonight. If I don't take care of those little tasks I may not have the opportunity to connect with myself and transcribe this moment.

Just give me some time. Give yourself some time. Lets reconnect in a few when the sun has risen beyond the hills and ignited all that is beautiful in the world. Until then....

Bad descisions can have good outcomes

Twelve hours of the bustling city followed by a crowded train ride home where the conductor apologizes for the over packed cars and refers to this as 'meet your neighbor night' on the Bergen County Main Line. I fall asleep and drop my ticket on the floor only to wake at my stop unaware of whether or not a conductor had even checked to see the pass. What a good night to be a stowaway on the commuter line. The exhaustion in my eyes was not accepted by my mind. Although it was late and I was tired, I was determined to head back to Vermont the moment I got back to my car.

I stopped by to say goodbye to some of my friends at The Office, refusing to park and go in because of the strange moments where everyone pretends they care what everyone else has been up to. Then I hit the road with a consistent speed after stopping to get gas and a bottle of wine. The liqueur stores would be closed when I arrived home and wine might be needed to calm my mind after a long day. Then I made the decision to take some caffeine pills that I bought at the liqueur store. This was the beginning of a wonderful experience where I learned the value of checking the labels on medication. An hour into the trip I was on a high produced by the effects of caffeine that equaled eight cups of coffee. There was nothing to do but turn up the music and continue driving.

There are very few ways to speed up a trip like this. First, you can drive at reckless high speeds and hope that you don't get snared by the radar gun of a state trooper. Second, you can control your liquid intake and avoid momentary stops at all costs. I decided to do both. A consistent speed of seventy five miles an hour, not reckless but just fast enough to pick up a few minutes each hour, and a dry mouth where my caffeine stimulated jaw clacked the whole way. This was working out well and left me with a projected travel time of just under six hours. Then, I realized that taking a bunch of caffeine pills was not the only bad decision I had made.

The rain came down quickly and within minutes I began to notice the white build ups on the side of the road. Maybe it was the caffeine, or perhaps it was the effect of an exhausted mind, but I believed for a minute that what I was looking at was salt that had been spread out in a pre-emptive show of force against the coming snow. Then I began to consider that snow didn't often form three inch high piles on the edges of the lanes. I slowed down and hit a moment on the road where the temperature changed from almost cold enough to just cold enough. The snow was spread over the road and above a fine layer of black ice. My consistent speed and lack of liquids could do nothing to help me now. I puttered along at thirty miles an hour hoping that my snow tires would hold the road and keep me safe.

The snow continued and blizzard conditions arrived. Ah, the Adirondacks at midnight with a white out accompanied by winds that threatened to push my car into the crowded ditch. Every few moments I saw another disabled vehicle, stopped and offered help, then pulled away to find the next. On a gentle upward slope three tractor trailers were jack knifed and stuck in the middle of the two lane highway. Police were stopped near by and their blue lights reflected off of the snow in silence. I reached a point where I was unsure whether or not the road was closed so I rolled down the window and waited for the trooper to roll down his. He motioned with his finger to go around and I drive through the non-plowed shoulder around the staggered cargo vehicles before making into a clearing. There was no one else on the road and I realized that I wouldn't be in a good spot if I was to lose control. The possibility of death became a reality and I welcomed the challenge.

This sort of mentality comes to me in the winter when I snow shoe. Snow shoeing, as we can all tell, is not really an extreme sport by itself. So with the hopes of finding one of the many adventures that await us in every moment I often will jump off of small cliffs, take different paths, and walk over frozen rivers to get the adrenaline shooting through my heart. Then I transform a pleasant walk in a winter wonderland into my very own K2 experience that may cause me to loose a limb from frostbite. Intense. I love it.

So the road stayed bad and even got worse when I reached the point where the plow trucks called it quits. I took the exit and began my twenty mile an hour journey over the last edge of the Adirondacks towards Vermont. My only fear at this point was that the bridge would be closed. It wasn't and after I entered Vermont I began to scream wildly with the windows open in celebration. The car slid to the right a little sending the back end into a friendly flutter before I gained control once again. I cursed myself for almost losing it after going so far without an incident. The commentary of a long solo drive is quite interesting and allows one true insight into the parts of the personality that we hide. I was quite vulgar in my expression of malice towards myself for losing focus for that split second.

Of course the roads clear for the last hour of the journey. There would be no fun in a snowy drive down the roads that I know well. No. It would be much more fun to get that winter blast when heading through curvy mountain passes with potholes that could easily swallow one of my tires whole. So it was four am when I pulled into my town which was amidst a planned black out for some construction purpose. I notice the completely black structures as I slow down and turn my headlights off. There was enough light from the stars and moon beyond the clouds to light my path through main street in Johnson. It is always when I am about to pull into my driveway that I realize how I have developed a sick desire to keep going in the hopes of finding another story, another moment where my life is at stake, another time when I can bask in the glory of a bad decision. Then I realize that there is always tomorrow.

Then tomorrow turned to today and I have once again made a beautiful mistake. This was supposed to be homework time. I did a little writing for one of my stories scheduled to be in next weeks paper before putting on the tunes and telling you this story. Don't go driving through mountain blizzards or putting off homework to create unless you are prepared to enjoy making the wrong choice. Developing this skill has left me with the exciting knowledge that even the mistakes we make in life are as full of intention as the conscious decisions. Close your eyes and lean back. You never know what could happen.

Thoughts of Christmas in a lasting Yoga bliss...

Maybe it's too early to think of Christmas day but there is never enough time between the end of the fall and that fantastic morning where nothing feels better than the warmth of a fire and the company of loved ones. I am the type who begins to play carols after Thanksgiving and I make sure to keep them on repeat straight through Christmas until New Years day when I grudgingly retire the Cd's until the next year. Presently, I am blessed to be typing these words with an evening view of the skyline from the corner of 23rd and Eighth. My father plays the piano. Rudolph plays with his added flair. I can feel the drama in every note his hands play. He is like me in that sense. Even the simplest moments and melodies can be jazzed up with a Raeburn flair.

I am brought back to the past with these melodies and thoughts of celebrating music at all times of the year. Often we would get together, family and friends, to stand behind my father playing the piano singing show tunes and whatever else could be rocked by our off pitch chorus. Bliss in imperfection. We all sucked but it felt fantastic during those brief moments when we actually harmonized. All we needed was one note sang beautifully by all at once before we could delve back into an off beat ear plugging kind of melody that dog's wouldn't even bother howling to.

Yoga this afternoon, followed by sushi at a restaurant frequented by Ethan Hawk. He often sits alone, with a hooded sweatshirt, and apparently he spends much of his time while dining texting. I wonder if he got the shrimp avocado role like me? Well, he would have when he saw me eating it. I can see it now. "Well look at that. I didn't know Alex Raeburn eats here." Of course I believe that he might be just as thrilled to meet me as I would be to meet him. Then again, he wouldn't know me yet, but I could simply introduce myself as someone he will know soon and offer to share a bottle of sake with him. It would be a mutual privilege, the way every human interaction is. Two masters of art. One already famous, the other ready to shoot out from behind the curtains with a mad dash towards the world of recognition. It may be a bit arrogant but without a touch of that spice the biggest dreams will always remain out of reach. So Ethan, I look forward to the bottle of Sake and the conversation that will follow.

Now we are brought down to a much more calm level with a melody that is haunting and simple. Oh Tannenbaum plays loudly until he stops playing and hums the rest, eager to move onto the next piece. I can hear the pages turning and the excitement building as he chooses what will come next. Is this chop sticks? Well even if isn't I will imagine it is. Play it again and we'll see what else this song can be.....


Ok, back to yoga. What a beautiful experience with the support and love of strangers. It was on the third floor of a building sticking up below all the others located near Broadway. The walls were pink and purple and the woman played a harmonium. If you don't know what this is, just take my word for it when I say it's amazing. I will say no more than that about this fantastic instrument. Except this of course. Sell your TV and buy a harmonium. You will not regret it.

The class lifted my spirits and my mood, as well as my legs above my head in an awkward way that I thought might cause me to implode. But I didn't thankfully and if I had I would have missed the finally of Om being chanted and the harmonium blasting at equal volume. I think there must be a harmonium in heaven and there has to be yoga.

One more song. I asked and he obliges. So I guess now I have an opportunity to finish this and bring it about to a fascinating conclusion that will give you some of that insight I claim to be able to offer. Um, can I pass? I am not always ready to be in the spotlight, even if that spotlight is the final paragraph of a blog that nobody is going to read, but hey I'll give you something for coming this far. The melody changes and with a sped up tempo I am reminded that if I lean forward and look right I can see the empire state building. This means that an unreal height, which can be achieved by anyone who has twenty dollars, is available within walking distance. I won't go there but the awareness that it is available if I choose to take that walk is just as powerful.

Maybe Ethan Hawk is sitting up there right now in a hooded black sweatshirt, playing the harmonium, wondering where the next script will come from. Maybe he is looking for that new writer who has the guts to fail a thousand times and never stop. Maybe he is, or maybe he is just enjoying some take out sushi and the sound of the harmonium's melody floating through the New York skyline as the sun sets. Well Ethan, I have the sake waiting for you and bring the harmonium. We'll need it.

5:00am in Ridgewood, NJ

A cold apartment in downtown Ridgewood, NJ

Sometimes emotions get the best of us. Then we have these wonderful opportunities to indulge in the love of our true friends. We can scream, cry, yell, or just sit in silence with those who just get it, no matter what the circumstances. Many have disagreed but I remain with the belief that many times it is our closest friends, those we have known for many years, who know us better that ourselves. This beauty comes from that collaborate consciousness that is humanity. Without the others, no individual would exist. If it was just me, that there would be nothing but that, nothing but that fear of being alone for eternity. Now I have realized that it is those who are closest who can bring us the possibility of release from the trap of solitude. This is beauty incarnate. This is real love.

Then, when we realize the beauty that a friend can provide our cell phone dies and the friend in the bedroom goes to sleep. This is when the soul comes through to keep the desperate company.

Am I desperate? Well not at the moment. I have my words to keep my company. Still, all is fleeting and this moment will fade like the rest. As the great Jack K. says, "home I'll never be."

Never get too comfortable to any moment. I begin this at five in the morning taking a few breaths between each word. Now I am here and the difference alone is fantastic. Just a momentary transition but this, like every acknowledged changing moment, leave us infinite possibilities. The sun will soon rise and the surrounding world will start again. I can see it now through the window on my left. Although the sky is black, the sun is getting ready to rise, and it will. It always does. On a distant mountain named Cadillac in Maine, the sun has already risen. This mountain standing gently over the nearby Atlantic Ocean, sees the first sun rise in this country. I've been there. I've seen it rise. I have held the grace and welcomed this country into a new day. Someone right now, or perhaps an hour ago did the same for me. If this is read as it is written than no worry would need to persist in the mind of anyone past right now. The day is new and the world has spun completely around. This is the infinite possibility of each moment and I refuse to let it go. Please join me. Grasp what your soul says is right, even if the consequences are insecurity or the horrible reality of the unknown. This is a necessary step. Security is a facade no matter what we think. If we believe that life is exact and that moments eventually flow to a steady pace, we may be living in the least prepared way possible. Be ready to smile at any time and the world is yours.

The beginning of the end........

Dear Readers,

The old life is over and today begins the new one. I am Alexander Nicholas Raeburn, a student of the school of life. The lessons life has given me have brought strength and hilarity to the developing perceptions I now firmly believe will be of use to some of you, or at least provide you with some entertainment.

I aspire to live my life in the most honest way possible, and I will do my best to tell you what kind of moments this philosophy can create. I will not only use this forum as a dialogue that anyone can read and respond to, but also as a place to post some of my short stories, poetry, and everything else that comes out of this strange mind through these fast moving fingers. I hope that you all enjoy what I write. I will be posting some of my new material soon. Until then....

Sincerely,
Alex aka Fester aka The Wandering Monk