when I was an early teenager I really hated money
I wrote some fancy A+ essay about it
quoting "head like a hole"
raging on into the night

I had been raised by good people who believed they came from poor, struggling families
that would have been happier if they'd had more money
I was expected to go to school
and from there into further schooling
and from there into some career track
all in order to make money
and make more money

I resented the whole proposition
because I had no interest in making money
and all of my interests withered in the fire of my anger
fed by the willful ignorance of the importance of action through interest; love
supplemented by the ultimate goal: to make money

it should have been a leg on the body
but it was the whole world

I understood it then
but had no perspective

in the discussions I've had over the last two weeks
with my priest friend
grinding me into frustration
to look at aspects of the world that irk me
and I avoid to keep myself from despising
I saw that pattern evident as the root of the problem

Why did our governments sell out to corporations and greedy confidence tricksters sacrificing any sustainable future for quick highs?
why do men destroys the present and future lives of the majority of our population in order to amass more theoretical-number-(not actual)-cash than they could ever possibly use? why have these "rich" people of "the 1%" chosen to abuse "us of the 99%"? And why do "we", especially those most oppressed by this system, believe siding with it will save us from it?

we have been trained to make money. increasingly so, that is all.
for months now I have been imagining a curriculum starting in the earliest of schoolings educating people in emotional literacy and articulation. developing their own "conscience", or individual moral compass. it only now occurs to me that nearly everything I was raised to do was organized not around wholistically experiencing my human life on this fascinating and beautiful planet, not even on other realms available to me from, through, and beyond Here; but primarily to Make Money. As I perceived it in my earlier youth, to transform my life into coin.
the notion is just as utterly offensive to me as a kid as it is to me as adult... but this way of being persists... and the myriad abuses against this wondrous life that I suspected in my ignorance seem only to have more evidence in my experience.
I know that paying attention to these things gives them more energy... but does my ignoring them help to defeat them? must I become monstrous with them in order to help in the battle against them?
is my naturist's jihad against the world of the businessman in error, like all wars are?
I should not even begin...

but seeing this american black man sitting next to me on the plane reading a book by donald trump about getting rich after listening to Leo winje on about how fucked up the world is for two weeks just infuriates me

I'm so grateful to be heading to spend two weeks now with the infant and the toddler
speeding head-long into life with complete openness and enthusiasm and raw sensitivity

please bless me with the presence to set a good example for them
and all I may...


(written on the plane from Oakland to Phoenix at 17:53 CA time, Thursday the 26, 2012)



.
:.:
|||

I wish I could share my love of the manzanita with someone
.
:.:

I don't like secrets
and I don't like lies

they wear me out

I feel they are both necessary in this world
it perpetuates it
but that's part of what we're doing here: keeping the wheel spinning
and we're all expected to play along

I once prided myself in keeping no secrets
now I feel it increasingly necessary to have them
and am often pressured and frustrated by the need
but because of that I have been writing every day on here this year as "private"
so only I can write it
so I don't have to write around any topics
and I don't have to change or avoid any names
and I don't need to be polite or nice

the writing has always been more important to do than to have it read
as far as I know

but I miss singing into the wind

I'm trying to figure out how to make more interesting creations to share

maybe I will someday

mmmmm
ebooks...

love ya
I'm going to sleep now

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

yes
I remember a bit of last night's dream now

re arranging the furniture in my apartment
away from my windows
to discover a corrugated metal awning outside the windows
looking out at the sea
I could climb out
over some industrial dock...

patch work paint jobs on the ceilings and walls

the many people over
I had so much more space than I had realized...

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

a month ago
Gene came to visit
I was surprised
two of the three nights I slept with him
undisturbed
held tight in his arms...

... how long had it been?

a few nights later
stoned high
I was with Ray
after playing
talking
a beautiful connection
nothing dramatic
...well, a little overwhelmed by good fortune
but not to the point of fantasy

he fell asleep
I lay next to him
wrapt in arms
loving it
feeling his body
his breathing
feeling, thinking through him
wow, how nice
but too exciting
for minutes or hours
I could not sleep
I had to move to the other bed...

then a few nights later
I slept with Koos
we had
many things
talked and dreamed
worked stuff out
entertained
simply happy and comfortable

when I was ready to sleep though
I rolled away from him onto my back

when I saw him at the work room later in the day
he told me he didn't sleep at all
that I had rolled back into him
and gripped him tight in my arms
squeezing him

he
...liked it
but dared not wake me
and could not sleep
lay the rest of the night holding still
appreciating his predicament
said he was surprised he was able to pry himself loose without waking me

I slept well...


but we didn't sleep well together again after than
nor have I again with any others...

we're those arms of sleeping comfort a gift from that mercury retrograde?

I thought about it then
and now
and again
as I used to often


appreciate
you who can sleep in cuddling

I remember
in my youth
the few I could sleep with...
wrapt in arms
carrying me with them into the blackest ocean....

... but all I want now
i want from me

did any of you
(from my generation)
listen to Nine Inch Nails as a child
(early teenage years)
and take it all too seriously?
agreeing with every word?
every discordant burst of distortion?

I was reading my journals (from 2006)
to a friend last night
and there was an exchange in there (copied from Skype) with a boy I used to really love
-- we connected via lots of things
music a main one
NIN an important aspect:
he told me later that I believed the music more than he did

-- I remember
when I hit puberty
sitting in church
I had an awful realization:
that all of the congregation
(and society, as I took it)
Believed in all this shit
I had just thought it was some sort of entertainment
theater...

well,
my friend
he seemed to believe all of this pop music was Theater
= I had taken it all as Gospel


So last night
I showed my (new) friend
the videos for Closer and Wish
he was impressed that this shit was happening in the early '90s
and I elaborated all of the themes in NIN's music from that time:
self hatred.
betrayal by the loved one and God
hatred of the loved one and God
pretty much hopelessness and suffering
feeling imprisoned
mwa mwa mwa

Yeah!
I said
Good Times!
he said
No: not good times

so
of course
I have Wish stuck in my head today
so many brilliant lines!
fucking monster song...

I remember willfully separating myself from listening to NIN
I took it all too seriously
like Trent was my mouth piece
I did the same with Radiohead and Tori and PJ and Bjork and Morrissey

fortunately I was able to make my way back to some of them as friends
we had grown together
instead of just apart
as I had from some of them

I've never really listened much to anything after Halo 10

but enjoyed the soundtrack to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
and am glad he's still making music
and is free from having to write lyrics so much


have any of you
around my age
who married Trent
when we were young
stay married to him all these years?

I think he's divorced himself over the years...

I wonder if his beauty is as magnetic as it once was...

.
:.:

.
:.:

very vivid night of dreaming

even awake
I closed my eyes
thought of something
like
a man I could feel an amazing connection with
and there
immediately
coming out of the crowd
a large dark bearded
broad chested
well dressed...


in one dream
I was staying with my brother in his apartment
the parents were visiting
his wife had left
she was Rachel Berry
or something
the colors were Piscean
all blues and purples

the parents were visiting
in the city square outside the building
there was a fair going on

the gate keeper was a handsome late 30 something Beary guy
the owner, similar but much older
every night we were out
we would go through the fair
fun house
lounge
dancers
rides
the gate keeper or owner would always have a package for me
there was always some sort of flirting with them
but I was always with my parents

after the parents left
(was I also my brother? he wasn't louis, though I think my parents were my parents... my brother was more City
tall, business, dapper...)

the partner was large
all painted in blues and purples
I remember telling him I think she did a good job
she selected the colors

outside the window of the room I was sleeping in was a field
then more houses stretching off into the hills
one morning I woke to see steeples and other roof tops spiraling up through the soil
until the field was filled with buildings just like everything else

his wife came over
or her brother?
or was this my sister's husband?
no, it was ...
a man
odd
I thought of him as straight
but as we lay around talking on my bed he kept trying to have sex with me

he convinced me to come with him to a hidden place
we were running down long interior corridors
all green with industrial feel
all metal and big bolts on everything
everything opaque
we kept running
when we'd stop and look in each others eyes
someone would come through the myriad doors

I wasn't sure if I should be doing this
but he was do insistent and ...


in the dream before
when I woke at dawn
there was a van
camping?
with friends
broken down?
sleeping in different places...
what was the tension and drive?
similar walking through houses
and confused relationships
mystical objects
now sunk back into my viscera...




.
:.:

so!
squander the beauty then!

is it limitless?
but we make it!
all endless things...
but why side with ignorance?

free yourself of those desires!
(or all is wasted...)

.
:.:

will be done

a pair of trousers
hems cut on a diagonal
inside or outside?
lace billowing down
inside or outside?

writing two hours a day

shaving once a week

writing two hours
twice a day

doing the work

exuberantly telling the story
suffering through it
year after year
day after day
the story you want to be told

seeing the wise
those who act
their satisfaction and excitement

in prayers of gratitude
"I am This"

.
:.:

for the last week and a half I hated my hair and couldn't bear to look at it...
but smearing all sorts of stuff in it for a week and only washing it with water has finally made me enjoy the look of it again

when I was younger I always wanted to look like Egon Scheile
taut, angular, waifish, viscious, lined and full of contrast
oh, but he died of the flu when the weight of Saturn tested him
I've been trying to take on more weight...
but I'm still quite thin (though heavier than I've ever been)
and I can't help but enjoy this manic hair...

.
:.:

why shouldn't I kiss him?
his wrinkly face...
I love him
he's part of me
made the way for me
greater than I
in experience and size
the weight of the world
gathered around his heavy thighs

but when he smiles
he's known far more sorrows and joys
that laugh is resigned
but also deeper than any boy's

he sees in me
so many of the dreams of his youth
what he coulda been
and the flickering of his imagining
the lives of so many others he's loved
dreamed of
the beauties on the street
in pages
in classes and jobs
the friends he's fallen in love with
carried off into fantasies
maybe
maybe with me...

love and imagination
hope and expectation

to see me be something great before his eyes finally close
and all that I might do
long after those

what is it I do for him?
give him inspiration to keep up the work
in the obviously setting sun?
help him lay down his tools and come to rest?
someone to inspire him to top his best?
to make one more great success for a new one who could appreciate it differently than the rest?

it goes far beyond the physical
but why wouldn't I kiss him?
lay naked in bed with him and hold him?
remind him
it's not beauty he's lost
just youth
my eyes not tricked by that
my heart still enflamed

many mistake worth
with prettiness
many mistake beauty
for youth
but would you want to taste an apple before it's ripened?

I prefer maduros
sweet and plump
yes
my love isn't all about devouring
but embodying his whole life
as much as I can fit into
not just getting caught in his crotch
but feeling his full heart
his heavy shoulders
his broad chest
and weary legs
wiggling into his fingers and toes
dropping down
into his balls
but not living
in just any one part

can we every fully embody another?
can there be a perfect fit?
should we wait for that?

what's more important in a partner?
one I want to look at all the time?
one I can have constant conversation?
(with comfortable knowing silence)
one I can always feel desire for/with?

the hot hot sex?
the making love?
the magical rituals of being
union
exploration
re-creation

what?
must they be separate?

why not?

I have lovers everywhere
I love him to look at
them
I love him to lay with
hear stories of living
him to be excited about music
and the architecture of the universe
yes, music of the spheres
him to share the drama with
the art of story telling
the others telling
him to listen to my stories
him to eat food with
to be someone to cook for
someone to make clothes for
someone to get dressed for

why just one?

rest in peace
knowing I'm loved by all of them
family

Sons
Brothers
Fathers
Grand Fathers
and The Great

a world of men learning to be in love with each other
hold eachother's hands crossing the street
shoulders in toil
testicals in desire
- to give... recieve... validate... dominate...
learn to respect and reflect each other
resonate in sympathy
nourish eachother to divinity
support eachother into deepest rest
share in the widest joy
and the most arduous suffering


these dreams of mine are so simple and clear
now
if only they could be so clear
always
when I'm waking...


.
:.:

ok, then
so
we're married now

.
:.:

when I woke this morning and what's the other bad went to lay down and have a strange half dream state bracket feel how relaxed my job was to my job was hanging get my lips were still together I ohms spending minutes many many many minutes on each owe you M letting it flow through my body feeling the space relaxing my face relaxing my whole body falling down into my legs love creation Homous and I Philson

.
:.:

whatever naturally IS
isn't good enough
You should change it
that will be better.
.
:.:

through the ceiling
I can hear a man snoring
a steady intermittent
rumbling

like a child
I could always hear my father
down the hall

is it strange?
I find it vaguely comforting


.
:.:

I put my music on shuffle today
I had a lot of things to do
with direction
I staggered around my apartment
going back to sleep
unaware to find goat's milk outside
I struggled with folding laundry
impossibly washing my hands again
rolling out truffles
washing the dishes
washing my hands
using needles, cable, tin foil

the music played
"random"
but with some guidance
known to gods of algorithms
or desperate hearts
some order
things I could believe in
laugh at
move about

when finally leaving
song 43 came on
"in the back seat"
off Funeral
by Arcade Fire

I remembered moments I listened to this song
moments I laughed at it
moments I cried with it
wondering now
exactly what it is about...

walking down that long 1 Tunnel
the climax of the song blaring away
I thought of Polyphonic Spree
how I could never get into them
Every Song was an Anthem
or some penultimate celebration
but I never believed any of it
it all sounded like they were making something Like that
but it wasn't it...
like any Cold Play song,
but obviously less deftly

I believed The Arcade Fire on those two albums...
they were a bit absurd and a tad annoying
but they were desperate and serious
they were here with us
and begging us to come along
and showing us the way

I remember
after getting into that record
hearing all the hype
Bowie touting them
selling out arenas
Really?

and Yeah
I haven't believed them since
and even hearing this song now
her hopelessly exasperated "my whole life" hasn't as much impact because she sounds like she's 18 and she probably needs many more years of learning to drive
or is it:
who I am now
thinks we all should be
learning to drive
our whole lives

yes
it's hard
but off to work we go...

Song 22 was "Pow Pow" by LCD Spundsystem
and it made me think of time
"coz honestly, how much time do you waste? How much time do you blow every day?"
thinking, again
of Debtor's Jail
and my Artist Friend
who was in Debtor's Anonymous
the troubles we might have wasting money
the troubles we have wasting time...

( song 23 was "on the wire" by PJ Harvey, in case you were curious )

I'd been listening to Audio Books for months and all this pop music is a different sort of storytelling...

I heard "Telephone" by GaGa on Glee and it got stuck in my head like a glitch virus for days
horrible
every time I checked in
my mind was repeating little chunks of the song
in horror
I had to download it
in horror, today, I erased her off my phone
every song of hers I heard I wanted to skip

but I loved the glitch-skipping in the song, in her voice

it reminded me of the Ting Tings "Great DJ"
the E-E-E and the
part

also
CSS "Believe Achieve" from their Donkey album
which I started this shuffle with
"I was to take your eyes
use then as a seed
grow a big tree
on my balcony
e-e-e-e-e-e"

this writing ends during song 46
"Kissing Things"
by The 6ths
(which followed "Like Spinning Plates" by Radiohead, the live I Might Be Wrong version)

.
:.:

I had this friend
I made some understandings about him
they related to this and that
and I knew him like someone else
and I knew him for time
so I knew him from experiences
so I knew him some ways
and some of those ways he didn't agree with
certainly didn't want to agree with
and told me so
told me "those beliefs you hold about me: they aren't helping me"
and I knew that
but it's where my faith lay

we were friends
and there was turbulence
and we were shaking
and on he went
I was elsewheres

I asked him what he wanted
what he said he knew he wanted

and he was absent
he was elsewheres

and I thought of him
as he'd want to be known
as I'd like to know him
but obviously don't

in my mind
in my solitude
thinking of him
I told him

You will have to Teach me how you want to be Known
and as I get it wrong
continually get it wrong
you will have to teach me
better teach me
be better teacher
between idea and fact
between thought and act
set a better example of what you want to be
so I might know you as you are
as you really are
as you've made yourself to be
in front of me

teach me how to know you
as you want to be
be as you are
when you are what you want to be

what do you want?
what do you want to be?

.
:.:

made by Young Jee
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NYy5TIcZrA

i was sleeping next to koos 
and larry started screaming down the hall

was it 4am?
i was laying on my side out in the front room 
curled up next to the plants

could it have been from sleeping so close to the Salvia?
or Koos?

i woke out of the dream
but only slightly
and thus
was given some lucidity
which allows me to remember it
but also be shocked by it:

it was a continuation of 
other dreams
or other realities...

i was going off to school
Magic school

not at all like Hogwarts, though i have just put myself through the Harry Potter books
i don't know if it was inspired by that
i had the feeling that it was last year
or years before 
that i had been there before
or had other dreams

i remember looking at myself in the mirror once
my eyes were bright green
my face was entirely different, actually
a bit more celtic/mongolian

but here i was
back at magic school
with all the same strange intricacies
the room that we used to enter between this world and that (the school, was of course, in some sort of parallel dimension where it couldn't be tampered with by people who wouldn't understand it... or seek to control it) was like a public showers...
yeah, we used a special nozzle and the water that came out would pass us between this and that

i was back at school
setting up my room again in the dorm
it was all kinda boring white drywall 
very "heartwood" (i haven't dreamt of that place in a long while)
in fact, i think i had my white Ford EXP there to drive around in
yes, waking with some feeling that that car was special to me 
some how intrinsic with my personality
strength, or freedom... or some ego food ideal

but the interesting thing in the dream was i knew it was my third year of school
and i had specific memories about the struggles i'd had in the years previous:
wresting concentration
something relating to trees
being still and centered
unable to manifest . . .

i arrived and unpacked my things
couldn't find my wand
forgot, even, what it looked like
how to use it
surprised i was here
and where were my books?
i started rummaging through my things
and walking through the campus
looking for my friends (not really like heartwood, a little like that place i stayed in the desert once.. pretending to be alone. wide, flat open... but with many buildings instead of just one...)
i was surprised to see my car
and thought i might have lost it in there
or my car gave me special abilities..
i went back to the showers
and felt embarrassed
people were coming and going
i was cruising for a second
so distracted!
where is the nozzle?
i have to get back to find my stuff or i'll never make it through this year...
i've got to learn . . .

i was talking with Leo tonight about the film "Death in Venice"... he was commenting on the costumes being so authentic... some offhanded mention of how uncomfortable the upper classes were back then...
and i thought of the struggle of civilization
ah-hem: "Civilization". 
pulling ourselves up by our boot-straps...
what does it take?

it think of the finery
the ceremony
the tutelage
the binding
the corsets
the britches...

oh, inane suffering, it might be said
all those ruffs and endless dance lessons
coupled with piano lessons
and etiquette lessons

but how much more inane than lives filled with 
eating, fighting, fucking, dancing, drinking
as the 99% have always #occupied their times

civilization is silly
but what we take for granted now...
what we ache to unmake
was rent from the sloppy wild beast that is Man
by the horrible crucible of repression that is Culture

with that we get all of our clever gadgets
such wonderful magical toys of distraction
and magnified self importance (Hello!)
our credit cards ( who came up with that idea? and with what exploitive potentials? and with what advantages for the suckers who use them? legion! )

i don't know
they get all this Wealth
"we" want distribution of Wealth
but we always forget what price we all pay to keep this story going
what roles we agree to

the 99% is the medium of history
the great story of humanity is being told through them
all the passions, the graspings and aversions
the wars and terrors, plagues and epidemics
love stories and murders, addictions, victories

yes, yes, the 1% enjoys and suffers these just the same
but with terrible mirrors surrounding all of their actions
awful amplifications of their agency in the archetypes they represent
that are stereotyped out infinitely into the world
such immense responsibilities!
such weight...

like the chinese children who spend their entire lives
, whatever lives those may be, never seeing sun, playing free, losing limbs
and their parents killing themselves regularly
so we might buy $15 sweaters
and $10 white shoes
some nice $400 laptops we can throw away in a year
while we complain about our mounding debts...
... before we get washed away in the flood
and those horribly neurotic, repressed, idiotic geniuses are doomed to carry on this story
reduced to the refined aspects of human personalities
glimmers of poets in their beady little eyes
dreams of lovers in their atrophied hearts...
so when their lot returns to what we accept as "poverty"
(which may also be known as "natural living")
they can people again the planet with beings capable of such luxuries of self delusion
to care about brand new shoes and finding their true soul mate...

plight or duty
we all have our burden to bear


... i'm not so much about putting things in their place
as to looking properly to understand the places that all of the ten thousand things already #occupy

forgive me my moment of delusional arrogance! but isn't that just business? of course, the chorus is the most spectacular part of the show... anonymous as it may be, it jumps around more, falls down and rolls on the floor more, carries our star in the sky!
oh... it's about the company! (regaining my composure) my drive was to be part of a team! this show is such a slick machine! I was annoyed that the humor of the big boss was sissiness... but I guess it worked perfectly and I shouldn't take it personally. D.R. pulled off the whole show without a slip-up, but slid into his natural accent (if maybe a bit accentuated) to sell his blue bow-tie for broadway cares... opened at $50 and he split it, one from act one and that one from act two, ummmhmmm, at $1250 each! go back stage and have them signed.
but I wonder at my skill, talent, and connections... as I always have my doubts... hovering between fantasy and drive...
what if I took classes every day of the week! Tap Dancing! Piano! Smiling! Guitar!
Singing! Acrobatics! Languages! Fashion!
oh... to look sweet...
I'm sure I've ruined my potential of the public eye...
I mean, I've been too public my whole life: I cannot be a part of this machine
I mean
I've never been able to follow the cogs
even when I wanted to
what is the success of the odd?
the misshapen?

I'm no longer... 20? 10?
late late late!
"by the gates of old Poughkeepsie my love swam with me"
and crazy for love

but I don't even know what to say anymore
and am uncertain I can carry the message

again, I recounted my duties, my virtues
to see it, learn to feel it
understand it
and repeat it

in the process
the repetition
I may find a song worth singing
but till then
I'm just observing
sorting
and reporting





.
:.: