A BRIEF DEFINING MOMENT IN THE TIME OF FATHER's DAY

I was listening to the live version of a song, In Your Eyes.

It opens this way:
"Accepting all I've done and said
I want to stand and stare again
'Til there's nothing left out,
It remains there in your eyes
Whatever comes and goes
I will hear your silent call
I will touch this tender wall
'Til I know I'm home again"
I take the idea “until there is nothing left unsaid”.
This has such significant meaning to me. To let it all go to put it out there. I don’t think I am alone in this thought; that we, for whatever reason, fear or something else, leave so much to our minds across the silent distance of our two bodies, assumptions, uncomfortable misunderstandings, confusion between us left unsaid.

Us, people; family, friends, lovers and the unrequited.
The words of Kate Bush run through my mind.
“Of all the things we should've said,
That we never said.
All the things we should've done,
Though we never did.
All the things that you needed from me.
All the things that you wanted for me.
All the things that I should've given,
But I didn't.”
Of the people I have lost, I am left holding so much unsaid.
I don’t want that anymore. I let it go, my reserve, my hesitation, my denial.
There is a children’s book of which I cannot recall the title, about a mouse named Pierre. Pierre was a fisherman who was in love with a dancer. She lived on a cliff high above Pierre and his boat on the sea. Everyday he floated by her home longing for her. Yet, afraid to say he loved her for in his mind she would not love a fisherman. She was an elegant beautiful creature.

One day Pierre could not contain his feelings. He was miserable, longing in his pain of the unsaid. He goes to the dancer and professes his undying love and before she could reply he ran away too afraid to be rejected. He goes home to be alone with his thoughts, his pain. And as he sits there he realizes he feels so much better. It wasn’t not being loved in return that hurt so badly, it was holding in his feelings, his thought, his need to express, to say out loud until nothing is left unsaid.
Maybe it is selfish of me, but I don’t want to bare the burden of not saying to you or anyone anymore what I didn’t say to others and cannot say to them now.
There is no word or phrase to express what significance you bring to me; and what meaning I hold for you in my heart.

In the silent space between our thoughts, the time that has passed, our perspective recollections, compassion and forgiveness exist in-between father and son. Whatever now holds between us, across that distance, in the space of misunderstandings, of lost time and opportunities, and the unspoken word, I want not to leave it unsaid that you have brought such meaning to my life and I am ever so grateful and humbled to have known you, to know you, to call you my father.

Nashville, The New Carpet Baggers

The history of your town of your life will pass you by.
Please try to understand. Don't get me wrong. I am from Nashville. 1962. I've lived here through our ridicule. I grew up in an appreciation of truly talented musicians. Now as I stand in an anomaly in a crowd at the War Memorial, I am not pleased as I would be at the Ryman. The band is quality, the crowd not so much. This crowd of Vanderbilt, Belmont privileged,  I resent the corporate attack on my birthright. I grew up in ridicule of Hee Haw only to see the explosive welcome and disregard of my southern heritage, of a small town gobbled up by condos by the influx of hipsters. So, as they move in I am moving out.

When you are on the last bit of your down slide, if you don't pour everything into it, you'll never feel the ecstasy of the crash. We all  need something to look back on as our lives flash before us. And I don't need this when there is the Cumberland Plateau, Ridge and Valley, Smokey Mountains/Appalachian Trail.

Lord of the decadent.
I'd rather take the unknown and make something happen amongst instilled fear and risk all that exists rather feel secure in the anchor of suffocation, waiting for the moment to arrive.

Free to the Associations

I was concerned you would miss me so I decided I wouldn't let you.
I know you are thinking,  'How can I miss you when you won't go away?" I can't advise as I am only the stalker. It takes two to tango. I won't call the police unless I have to tell them someone is holding a gun on me in their house.

I think on paper you look better than I do but in a Turkish prison I would rise above.
Well we all have our loses and misses in dementia.
That's me though.
I let my mind go where it wants without restriction. Some people are afraid to break through that barrier and let go, but they might like to be free to wanderthink
I'm always going to let my mind go there.
Open up the door to a large ballroom of free thought and dance the night away!

Happy New Year!

 Is the text.
I respond in 257 days. Slow down there soothsayer. I think, Why Happy New Year?  Each day, each minute, each second is a happy new year.

So those who think a happy new year is only on December the 31st at 12:59:50, you can take that indoctrination and that corporate hallmark  marketing mentality and chew, grind and genuflect it until the fat cow sings moo mother fucker moove over let retrospect come over. There are 365 days in most years. I don't like to make quick judgement. By hell or high water. By the blue bayou I I live and die day by day one thing, one minute at a time, inching away the the minutia of time that ekes out of the seams and pours from the breaks.
Ok. So now. This minute. I'm off into a new same world. I preferred the one with you. But that's not gonna happen or is it? Time is irrelevant.  So my choice if you asked, I'm in the now. If you need an immediate response I can only reply to happy right now! It's a choice.

A lesson learned from severe desire and methodology. And foundational people in my life. Guides.

And what better mark can a person leave on the earth than that to inspire others to love and be loved to be kind and caring and honest.

THE CARNAGE TRAIL

You. I like that you were the only person to tame me. Of course you released me back into the wild. I quickly  went feral.

That's a gift I believe. The ability to ease from one life to another.

Flexibility can sustain idealism.

On the other side idealism  can't foster in the mainstream lifers. That's the way it is with lofty social goals. Think of those select few who sees society as a whole and misses the microcosm thinking that we will all eventually come to one world philosophy of peace, love and tenderness.

It's OK to have those lofty goals, to aim for the sky. However,  I think we might  remember that we were not born with wings, that planes crash and we have been to the moon twice and there was nothing there.

So while we're spending our time spinning our wheels, the select few continue to attempt to drive humanity forward. The masses will build it and yet anchor it down. They destroy the intellectual spiritual direction through born atrocities and meager existence. But it's through limited cognitive ability, fear and starvation that the pyramids still stand.

Some like living in the fantasy of one day. We deny the practicality of reality. Honesty comes with a price in a world that prefers a lie I suppose.

Like man's greatest achievement, we go in circles.

So judge me for being a negative nay sayer. It's just an opinion. An observation.

Maybe there were slaves saying, "Can you get me on at the pyrimads. My girlfriend says goat tending is for losers."
Maybe it was like getting on with a automotive manufacturer in the 60's right out of high school. Of course we know how that is now.

Really, my hunch is that the masses through process is burdened down with the day to day struggle of surviving that they don't have the luxury to dream of utopia. or they are fed up with indoctrination, "Maybe I don't wanna get with it, your utopian bullshit. Get without it... get what I want, get what I need, yeah that's what I want."

So one dreams it for exstatentialism, the other builds it for food, clothing and shelter.

My concept, perversely it is the technology of instant communication, our greatest achievement to date that will date us.

Leave us scattered in the wake of this class separation, this chasm of thought we move forward and backward. One direction growing more massive than the other all the while tied together like the Earth and moon, never the twain shall meet or survive without the other, but eventually will go together back to the cosmos where it all began.

Only You Know or You Don't Know

The difference between comedy and tragedy is the timing. Sometimes horrific is funny and joyful is sad. It's the 90° angle that you witness when you were expecting something else.

Expectations get us every time.

It's really the individuals  perspective that we each define ourselves. A crafted reality. Perspective is the stuff that dreams or nightmares are made. It's whatever floats our boat or burdens our way.

It doesn't matter if you were born in a high rise in Manhattan  or in some slum by a crack whore that dumped you to the social service system, or whether mommy and daddy loved you or neglected you or daddy or mommy loved you way too much, you're not going to escape life without resentments .

And resentments are the foundation, the building blocks of our perspective.

And from our perspectives, come our choices.

Mostly these are unaware choices we make as we sit, walk or run to the finished line.

Our pleasure or acceptance of a circumstance details the outcome. Conscious choice rarely intervenes.

One man's decisions  is another man's guess in the dark.

It's all relative.

Whether you are eating Westminster saltines which are the best you have ever tasted or
eating processed saltines you made from the crumbles and remains at the bottom of the sleeve and those that fell from the sides of your mouth, it is arrogance or humility that defines the delicacy.

Let or don't let all those naysayers tell you that processed doesn't make you happy.
That's their trip. You can climb aboard or swim to shore.

Processed tastes as good as is the perspective of the palette.

I wanted to say, processed tastes as humble is the palette.

But that's my thing. Humility and gratefulness.

Me? I have an unfair advantage. I looked into the abyss and it lurched up. I'm still escaping.


So, who am I  to say what we eat is who we are? Or, what we do is who we are.

In my escape, I brought a view that makes me wonder about people who spend their life in excess pursuing money power and fame to accentuate their tastes, when others believe you don't even own your very soul. And there are those who don't even bother with anything other than what is given, stolen or grifted.

This time, this life eventually goes on without you and whether the soul goes on with or without you to end or to renew, presently, whatever you have left behind or lies in your future, there is nothing in comparison to your now.

We all exist somewhere in our own time zones living our reality.

Who is to know that a reckless  short life is much better than a feared long life, or an opulent self serving life is better than a of humble life of service?

Best Laid Plans Are Improvised

Best Laid Plans Are Improvised

Wordsworth said "The world is too much with us". And somebody said "The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray".

Planning is our way of preparing for the time when are too old to be preparing. We want to be able to rest while death is rapidly approaching. It's the age old story of the ant and the grasshopper.
 "The way I see it is one man's squandering is another man's adventure.
There two groups in this the world, preoccupied with preparing or too preoccupied to prepare.

Either way, the world is too much with us only because our self awareness is being bombarded by society's concept and belief of how we should live, behave,  rather than listening to our own internal dialogue, our innate DNA  given self.

And the only reason we listen is because we are connected by the need to be connected. Some are very good at filtering and standing alone others gravitate to like individuals and segregate  together, finding reinforcement in solidarity of their solitude.
I call that inbreeding or mass mutual self gratifying masturbation.  You pick.
It's really all about the need for validation. Needing to be told you are important, that you matter rather than finding self actualization. Not that anyone has, but it's the journey not the destination. Yes? No? Oh who agrees with me? Anybody? So that's how it's going to be?

Oh, by the way it was Robert Burns.  I guess he was on the idea of no matter what life, small with no conscience to man with his libido, life is life. You're born then you die.
And in between it is a series of choices.

I think the biggest choice is to fear or not fear. I was speaking with a friend about fear and she said that fear is a good thing because it protects us from danger. I agree except that is for when we were toddlers. It is a primitive reflex so our ancestors would not be eaten by the sabertooth tiger but, eventually our intelligence and learning from situations should give us the common sense not to go out at night when there is a killer tiger lurking about.
So, plan as you might we all know what the famous bumper sticker states, "shit happens".

For me, my past is a whirlwind at my back.

Maybe there is a third group, those preoccupied with living with passion, art and expression. Hippies. But they eventually succumb. Dead Head driving a Cadillac? Ring a bell?

Now, as the rest of us less passionate, get closer and closer to that time when we are too old to prepare, some begin taking toll of their lives and the choices they have made and the choices they are going to make narrow  down between two things, is it a need or want? As a species we are driven by a connection to others. Now you can argue, go back-and-forth between sex and love Which is which and is it a want or need?

I often in retort to others like to refer to the to the quote by the blues Brothers, " Everybody needs some body".

This constant drives our every important decision.

We desire connection, physical, emotional, mental or intellectual. This is a staple in humanity, to love and be loved . It is our own form of intimacy. in which we individually design  and seek from others. No one else can tell us if it is real or not . Our environment and our organic structure is intertwined in synchronicity or conflict. Real is relative to the individual.  Wether it exist if only for a moment or for a lifetime. Reality is really a view from an ever changing perspective. The flexible bend, the brittle break.

So choice is ours.

Even choosy choosers sometimes take what they can get that is close to their need or want as it has been designed.

Indiscriminate choosers take what is next on fate's menu.

With desperation or adventure comes risk. Welcome to planet earth.

In most cases we must all compromise or perish into desperation. But acceptance can suffice in our plans gone astray.

I'll leave you with this last quote from a man's deathbed who fought and was wounded on the beach of Iwo Jima. Saw his friends heads blown off their bodies ripped apart. " You won't regret what you did in life, only what you didn't do"

I've walked to nowhere many times and have always walked back

.

It's a self loathing thing. A rage against life. A way to know I am alive. Some jump from planes, others climb mountains and so forth. I delve into the darkness of society to test boundaries, to face death before my time. 

I gain empowerment when I walk the no white man's streets. Argue the price, pull out a wad of cash daring then to take it from me. 

They no better than to fight a man with a death wish. Fearless is feared. 

Block after block a target. My invisibility my posture leads my path safely home.

I gain strength to walk in the valley of death and know that to fear evil is to fear me. It's like flying. It is weightlessness. Freeing. 

But it doesn't hold. Last. Secure. To be validated as alive requirement involves repetition of the immediate embrace of death.

Never a simpler affair

Family Reunions You go with high hopes and leave hungover and grateful for the distance when you are home.  Sanctuary 

Abby

My sweet Abby.

You don't know me anymore than I know you.

I was there. I was with you. Bugs, frogs Madagascar hissing roaches.

Who you are now, there is a part of me.

I will never forget you.

I am not what they say.

You, me all are subject to others. Memories are real and some are only relayed to us to sift through.

Reach out I will grab your hand.

Your life gave me life. 

I hold tight.

Follow the second star on the right, straight on til morning.

Uncle Cary

The grace of life

You do not always have to be strong but only  to feel and cry and time will come that you  will be okay

For this is life. People and things come and go and we are changed by the passings and grow strength through the experience of pain. 

Follow the blood trail

Trustworthy of a person is based on their nature foul mouthed or not.

This is supposed to be based on a study.the conclusion being that the more verbal vulgarities the more trustworthy the person.  Ever hung out at a lawyers bar?

I like the story of the frog and the scorpion the scorpion asks the frog to take him across the river and the frog says I can't because you will sting me and the scorpion says I won't sting you because we both will drown so the frog says OK but halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog and the frog says to the scorpion you stung me now we're going to both drown and the scorpion says nonchalantly it's in my nature.

You are too pretty to be thinking right now. So stop or keep it up.  I follow my nature. Beetle or human. We are organisms. Curse or gift of the evolved brain. I ignore society's manufactured consent. 

Approach first with kindness.

 After?

 Above ALL else. Be true to yourself. And swing away. 

They serve food and drinks

They serve frivolity. Friendship. Conversation. Togetherness And a bill.

I'm am biding my time

There are perfect moments
in life. When you are in a moment of bliss. Contentment and joy. Elated. Like a happy ending in a movie after the characters have struggled through hardship and dilemma. I always wonder as the credits role, "what now?"  Because you and I know that after the credits comes the fall. The roller coaster of living. Up and down. Thrills and spills. We are never finished. Not here nor after here. 

It's beautiful the dichotomy of our lives. The Yin and Yang. Just when we reach the pentacle we reset to start again. But I know and hope you know this is only a reality of this physical world. Life can be be an avoidance of accumulation, and instead a  practice of patience, love and focus. Fine tuning our belief that all there is to life here is to love and be loved. All else is our will fighting to stay against what is beyond.

What seems important here
Is only in our choice, fear fuels the fire.  Yet we do not have to submit.

Let go of the preconceived. Let go of the ought to, the you should, the how it is supposed to be.

All this goes on without you, all this is a dream, all this is a measure of what we can be beyond what what we know here.

I am perfection that is imperfect

In my marriage the issues were not between us they were within us from our own resentments our own baggage that we carried with us from birth to childhood into our adult lives.

I was a kind loving, compassionate person buried under pain, smothering in fear struggling to free himself.

And I would look outside of myself for rescue.

So many times I would silently, desperately plead.

I'm struggling here. Is someone going to help me or am I alone

I'm struggling here. Please someone be here for my fall

or will I fall alone?

I wanted to love, but I don't know how. Please don’t equate my attachment my need to love to some deep-rooted childhood experience that holds me fixated on some minuscule desolate remote fantasy.

I am talking about the basic human experience of love.

I knew that I did not know how to love. A love that is open and selfless. I was isolated from the human experience of love of family, friends, and people of my community and of one individual.

Like digging a hole in water, my will would struggle and fail. And I would think, “It's okay. I'll step back into the routine of the mundane, the day in day out of my non-existence.”

It wasn’t until I let go of my pride and spite that I was no longer alone. I found God. When I let God in, I let love in. Love, a radiant, fulfilling, empowering love.

As love filled me it pushed out the pain and fear that stifled  me, kept me from the human experience.

For me, my God is love. God filled my heart.

I spent my whole life not understanding, and now that I do, I am over whelmed.

I know we are all connected. And there is positive and negative. There is healthy and unhealthy. We are pulled and we gravitate. It is our free will that god gave us where we make our choice.

And life, love you can think about it all day. Discuss it, research and examine all possible outcomes. But, you will never know a thing until you do it.

I'm not for everybody but I am for somebody. And we will find each other.

I am imperfect struggling for perfection everyday.

My Trouble Through Summers

Hip pouches are not hip, but they are so practical. I live for the winter when the man's coat is his purse.

It's the same thing for me every year. It could be solved if I were metro sexual, Then I would carry a man "satchel".

But I'm not so I won't.

We can call it an accessories pack, a utility belt, we can color them, make them out of hemp, bedazzle them, tell people it was a gift from the President of the United States, but it is what it is. It's not right. It's unnatural. I leave the pouch to the marsupials and of course Batman. 

So in the hot months of summer, my pockets are stuffed like a child from a 50's television show. Yo yo, string, jacks, a rock, a frog and some sandwich pieces.

It's such a shame to not just wear the damn thing. Let's face it, I'm a terrible dresser. What would it matter? How could a fanny pack, hip pouch do any more harm to my "look"? I have no fashion sense at all. Well  except for the terrible self conscientiousness I would feel wearing a fanny pack like some practical tourist from some practical town somewhere in some  practical pocket of the world.

I'm just not that practical. Maybe it is true. People really do suffer for fashion.

And for you, the brave ones, the practical ones, I admire your self actualization. Seriously, I want to be you. But, I can't. I just can't. I've tried. Once I got as far as my front door. But that's it. 

Well, truth be told. I carry a diabetic kit that is canvas. No belt attached. I refer to it as my "external pocket".

And push come to shove I tell people  I'm diabetic. Sometimes I volunteer it announcing it as I point to the bag. 

I wouldn't have to go through this if I had a girlfriend, wife or metro sexual friend, I could dump my stuff in their "satchel" purse slash overnight bag suitcase thing.

Talk about too much luggage to be hanging out with another human being just for the compartment convenience of their accessory just for my stuff. That's excess baggage.

Still, between my phone, phone paraphernalia  and E-cig and E-Cig paraphernalia, I need a fanny, hip wherever I wear it pouch.

What can say, I got stuff

In the end it comes down to choice as does everything. Are you in or are you out? I prefer to wait and let the wheel of fate decide. If I've learned anything, it is that history repeats itself.

If I live long enough , maybe, just maybe the hip pouch

will be hip again, if it ever was.

Nope. It won't happen. 

I am a very positive person who believes hope springs eternal, but I can't even fool myself on this one.

A Citizen Of The World

History repeats itself.
And that's all history teaches us

 i'm hung over at work and and if my memory is correct,  I'm going to throw up on people, again.

As a species we really could benefit from maximizing the repeating of positive endeavors and
reducing our repetitive blunders.

I know, as a an individual I'm  really not pulling my weight.  It's not like I don't make improvements, I just lack consistency.

I guess that's the thing. As a group we are out of sync. We are not all pulling at the same time in the same direction.

Maybe that's the balance of life. I can't imagine what the world would be like if we all at the same time were not trying.

Maybe if Earth had some basic rules to follow and enforce.

Wait. We already have that. But we don't do it consistently. Hmm?

It's good to know I'm not alone.

Love Has It's Evil Tendencies

I don't have the ability to bypass my
immediate desires for my
future.
Will I ever learn?
Never.
I don't want too.
I'd rather keep throwing myself
with all my heart.

Bullseye

I have always aimed low and walked away quickly unfulfilled.

Now I've decided  rather to stay out here orbiting along the perimeter of her life
than go back to a 1000 safe predictable outcomes.

The universe is chaos, and it is precision; which neither I control.
Now I choose the unpredictable and leave it to the quantum mechanics.

I'll  make my aim true, set a trajectory

regardless of what I ask myself.

"In that swirling cosmos nestled in the encompassing beauty of her cranial orb, is there a random synaptic firing of the idea that our two celestial bodies will meet in the same space at the same time within our eternity?"


Meanwhile,
I will fill my days
with purpose, food, water, clothing, shelter and the affection of friends and family.

Thriving with the basics to happy living.

Sometimes the truth sounds like a lie

Inversely a lie sounds like the truth.

It's difficult in a world of messages, sugar coated hidden agendas, fear focus factoids crafted to drive you running with your wallet out to buy buy so long and bye!

Every so often you will have a moment where you realize your life is perfect as is with nothing required but choice. In that moment of clarity you are filled with the idea that your life is always awesome even if you don't see it all the time. And that the worst day on Earth is better than to not have been part of this knowing.

Most days are spent moment to moment determining your level of happiness, sounding your now off the wall of your past and future. Analyzing the balance between what is true of your life and what is false. We escape through our days by judging, rating our degree of happiness. But that is judged from the misconceptions of  indoctrinations.

Constantly sifting out the thoughts to a clear focus of happiness.


Best to turn off the noise, listen to the message inside you. It is there, hidden in the clutter of media, religion, school, government, parents and all else of opinions and agendas.