Back In the Land of Serendip

The 15th of August: today is my Sarah's birthday, 28 to my 32 – she sleeps beside me, my head rests comfortably on my own pillow, Beats around my ears, I'm listening to Nickel Creek, a band I fell in love with at 15; suffice to say, it's a nice morning – not just for music and birthdays, but for the road.

The road is the one I've been on all these years. The road is where I am – up here, going on my second year in the mountains. The road is this blog going on its eighth year, and it's my instagram too. The road is the journey – the push and pull of this thing I call my 'sense of destiny'; for the road is no more than my story, who I am.

And the road is widening.

With Charlottesville and the goons running amok in this country, I'm called to start composing my thoughts on the wider world into essay – this excites me, the kid who graduated from The Defense Information School's 'Basic Public Affairs, Writer' course 14 years ago – yes, some dots take a bit of time to connect, but here I fucking am, living in the mountains, writing a novel – and now, essays for publication: life is getting exciting.

I've also a very exiting book / literature project I'm announcing soon, which, I should think, will be as important to my identity and burgeoning career as my essays.

In other news, I've reconnected with LeighAnn, a girl I dated for about a year when I lived in Milwaukee at 26. We were good to each other. It ended badly, but it went well. Can't believe that was just five years ago. Unreal to think what I would go through to get here. But here I am. Naked, high, happy – once again no longer creating zemblanity for myself.

In short, I'm safely back in the land of Serendip, where things make sense.

Advertisements

Timer

Timer,
Ticking, tock,
Brains and a cock
Fuck you thought?
I'm no moralist,
Not one for Jesus or Mohammed –
Fuck that noise – lies
Man is as he tries
We can all respect all without giving, Credence to lies –
Man is as he tries
We all die,
With or without these thighs –
No one's saving us
We are because
No divine mother,
No brother –
We are without each other
When beauty's become a lie,
We all try
Timer

A guap of bubble hash in this cone,
Hoping by the time this paper plane lands,
I’ll be back home,
We’ll see how the poem goes,
But I might just move in:
The ghost in the guest room –
Where I go get stoned,
And visit my demons –
S’wear I wrote a version of this three months ago,
When, in self-exile,
I wanted you to go,
And I sat and got sad,
Beneath the Van Gogh,
Where tonight, I look to it and know,
Vincent was as I, no doubt,
Stoned and alone
For only artists, those irrational and naive enough to believe in this stuff,
Really ever love –
But I came here to be happy,
So I am,
Because a room is just a room

Culture Snap 2K17

Realize the core fear in life is terror,
Know thyself and build security from there;
Some people catch vibes from the air
Fox News has my neighbors scared
They pray to Jesus to keep Jesus (hey-zus) outta here,
They don’t realize real-lies 
Call it “fake news” – it’s tele-vised (Orwell!)
That’s the pot calling the kettle;
That’s how people became chattel,
Fascist playbook 101
Control their values and you’ve won:
So insecure we voted a chump ,
Who hates Mexicans and women –
Telling-lies-to-your-vision (ON TV!)
How did they vote for this machine?
Half of em on SSDI 
Thinking the dems weren’t on their side,
Because we don’t see Muslims and hide;
This zeitgeist isn’t normal;
This work life it’ll own you –
This youth – they’ll control you
(instagram!)
Most people worship the ruling classes;
How do you be a person and like the masses?
All loving pics of the fattest asses 
Biased and blind to their own assets –
This shit is insane: it’s insecure
Judging ourselves in how others appear;
Forgetting we all once came here,
Hoping to find freedom from fear
And now we’re just like, let’s get a beer;
Come on bro, there’s no sluts here 
Using each other and loving things;
Most people are not very human beings, 
But I believe, there is a plan 
So I’ll be me be-cause I can 
I am not here to conform;
I don’t fuck with the norm –
I am here to do art;
Get high and pull it apart 
(Culture!)