Sometimes You Simply Need To See Word After Word Go By


It isn’t always about telling a story or making sure that you get your point across to a specific audience. It isn’t perpetually about making you sure you anticipate critique and use it to block the negative carefully. It isn’t even always about letting people read the words that you are writing.

Sometimes you need to write down words as they come into your head with absolutely no destination point in mind, no end to get to, and no saga to continue.

In the summer, blue skies always remind me of laying on my back in the scraggly grass that we had in Lancaster. It wasn’t quite nuked to death by the sun or dehydrated from the sun. It was so comfortable under the fruitless mulberry we had in the front yard. I would look up, and I would see this perfect azure blue to the sky. It wasn’t graduated, it wasn’t layered, it was a solid sheet of the color blue like you were looking at a color swatch in a paint book. When the clouds would come across like little pieces of popcorn, they would always be moving so fast because of the higher elevation that we were in in the desert. They would be there in the shapes that you would turn them into, and before long, they would be speeding away towards the valley to get turned into the movie stars shade and the beach bums weather reports.

The clouds coming over the mountains, coming in from the west, always looked like a giant foam from a wave that would take everything. All that you needed was to wait for just a second. Then there would be a thunderous cataclysm, and the valley would be washed clean of the gang-violence and the broken promises of employers who didn’t need to know your language to offer you a job no one would take for that kind of money. It would erase the pain from the broken families and the terror of the Nightstalker. Even if it had made it down to Millwood Ave, they would have found a way to make the wave wash the truth away and let them hang so desperately onto the alcoholism and deceit that kept the happiest family in the barrio together.

Water is the happiness I have trouble putting into context for someone who has never wanted to disappear in the Pacific and be found like a message in a bottle, thousands of miles away. We would go down to Malibu or Zuma, and they would wait with tapping feet as we tried so hard to get clean in the ocean in the Magellan called the Peaceful Sea. We would dance in the seaweed and the shells and try to keep our eyes open the entire time. We wanted a recording of the moments we got there, of the times when we were truly free. Sooner, always sooner, we would be back in the car driving up the PCH and back to the air that was so dirty you needed to breathe slower on the cloudy days if you would fall over and cough up blood.

We left the ocean, where there is no memory of ill or fault and only raw power and beauty. I fell in love with here, I honestly did. I have sat by the lake with a fifth of Whiskey and a folded over notebook trying to be Dylan Thomas with a heroin problem, or later on, maybe I was Coleridge without the heroin problem. I would write my nonsense prose, my rhyming couplets, my sing-song story poems, and at the end of the day I would walk back down 19 to the shit hole on the corner of 18 and climb into bed and listen to the same five songs I still welcome into my soul every day.

As things must go, days and weeks faded into months and years: death and love, more the latter than the former. I am blessed with beauty in my life that I do not deserve. I look into the eyes of three of the most beautiful creations in existence, and it stops my breath to know I had anything to do with how they have become the wonders they have become.

Sitting here, I never realized how much time had passed, passed with nothing to show for its passage, but scars I cannot heal from and trinkets I would gladly return.

Elemental In Complex Lunacy


First We Talk About My Love Of The Sea…

There are days where you want the world to stop and allow you to take a single, deep, refreshing breath, but all it does is swamp you with wave after wave. You know you are going to be okay regardless of the amount of water that hits you, you still fear that fear of drowning regardless. The panic of the water filling you slowly takes over your rational mind until it is all you can do to think the most primitive thoughts and try as hard as you can to stay just above the surface of the rising tide.

Today it is not the water that is rising, simply a desire to get the fuck out of the water completely. However, fear is defined as the imminence of danger and as far as I know, there is no danger. There are heartbreak and tragedy, worthlessness, and fire, but my Goddess there is no fear involved in this at all and I will be damned if I am driven from the element of my soul by the very thought of an emotion that is not present. I will swim in the water, I will submerge my mind and heart in it and silence the voices of doubt, derision, and disaster and when I bring my head back out of the water I will take that breath that stings so very good and move the fuck one to the ones after that, as everyone and anyone do.

So We Stay On Land A Moment…

Do you feel the firmament of it? The solidity of it? That is the absoluteness of the convictions you need to maintain through the struggles that are coming. The water may be a harsh mistress that takes everything from you in an errant moment of your lack on concentration, but the land is the taskmaster that holds you to your purpose, that grinds you to the wheel you choose and makes you feel, even when you beg it to not be so cruel to you. The land is that which is not the fantasy you want to lose yourself in. The land is the real, the hurt, land hosts…well, we will get to Her in a moment.

The rock and the dirt, the dust that clogs your nose and ground that callouses your feet beings you back to where you need to be, where you should be. It does not care for you, it does not love you, it simply is there and you are forced to acknowledge it, or ignore it at your absolute greatest peril. As the weight of it crushes you it will not even look at you as you are destroyed, it will simply grind on because that is the very nature of what it is to be the land, the earth, that which is solid.

Then We Warm Ourselves With Fire…Briefly

The magma is where my mind is the most uncomfortable. I can accept the fire of creation, the heat of passion, the sweeping firestorms of wrath, but the magma, the fire that sits forever and slowly takes away as it adds infinitesimally slower. The anticipation of the disastrous that cannot be avoided. It alone can destroy all the others. Boiling the water, liquefying the land, poisoning the sky. It is ever-present in its absolute destruction and I shy away from it because to embrace it, to embrace the chaotic change it embodies, is to deny myself at the very core of who I am.

We Ignore The Sky Today, It’s Message Is Not For Us, Instead, We Turn To The Secretive One…

The Darkness is that place where the manifestations of the deepest Id are made flesh. It is where the bravest walk unafraid and the weak tremble before the Void of it all. It is a place we all have, we all go to, we all dread in our ways. We try and run to the Light of Reason and logic but time and time again the malingering Fears of the Unknown, the Memories of Pain, the Dread of the Pasts we have been through.

Now We Summarize, Minify, Logic Proof, and Custom Cut…

I think that there is time enough for us to flit and fly through the Fantasy of air another time I can promise it. Today I stop. Not pause but stop. I stop and think of what Was, what Is, Would Will Be, and more importantly, What Can Never Be Again. I have seen the Alpha, now it is time for the Omega.

BOOM! Goes the Water Heater


Well Shit. You know those things that happen and you have no control over them at all? That is what my water heater dying this morning was an example of. Nothing like having the Elder Duck come downstairs and say there is no hot water, but, like all things, a solution was found and, as we speak, is being put into action and should be taken care of in the next few hours or so. I don’t know, plumbing is so far away from something I know about that it might as well be Ancient Greek, which I actually do have some knowledge about.

This little fuck cluster cost me the gym today, but I suppose it is for the best that it happened in a way and at a time where I can actually take care of it the same day as opposed to having to wait a whole other day with no water to bathe or wash dishes in. There are infinite days to go and do gym things, not so many where I can fix the problem in the exact way it needs to be fixed.

I have a story about The Marquis coming up later today that I will get to zone into and write, and then I am going to try to have as quiet an evening as is possible before trying to get some much-needed sleep this evening so I can wake up and start this whole little circus I have going here all over again.

Oh yeah, the Podcast thing.

So, come the first of the month or so Ia m going to be able to get the stuff I need to bring my overly boisterous voice into your ear places. I am not going to decide how often to do it or any of that nonsense until I actually have people listening to it at least once and telling me if it is utter horse shit or not. If it is, and Ia m okay with being told that it is, I will simply not do it and have a shiny new microphone for my problems.