Anywhere, Kid (Diaries from OLY/SB/and other places)
Jan. 5 2001
And I have to sit here and wonder, I really do, where the last 6 or 7 months of my life have taken me. It is an odd and fast-paced ride that I call life and chaos theory is so prevalent; the what-if's? Just wonder where I'd be now had I not left NY or Corpus or WDC or CHICAGO?!? It is probably unhealthy to engage in these thoughts, but I do—and I'm healthy! I guess I am just sad because Steve left this morning. It was a classic in and out. He came He left. In between he experienced and now he continues to live. And I have so much of his stuff to get rid of. Ughh. I will do it though, for Karma. Tiff failed to send my things out and look where she is now. I don't want to be there…
--
Sometimes,
I'll walk by her window
Then turn around
Walk by again
I feel the rain
Pouring—but I ignore it
I ignore it
I ignore it like I ignore the pain
I feel as I walk by her window
--
So, I was walking home from the coffee shop, and when I got to the expressway I stopped and thought of leaping into the afterlife, but I didn't because I saw myself grabbing for help that wasn't there and dying without wanting too. It didn't appeal to me. And, I was thinking about how my sleeping habits have been lately and I was told that sleeping 12 hrs a night is a sign of depression (as is giving away all of your belongings). I don't feel "depressed", I am sad, but that fades quickly. And, I really am happy, some people just don't have a proper grip on life to judge my ever-changing habits.
--
I guess, in reality, all I ever wanted was to be profound and renowned and so forth. And, I am learning that wanting that is the antecedent to attaining that. People have even said that I am overly profound, I am trying too hard. I think that my best path as of now is that of truth. Just be as honest as I possibly can with everyone I associate with in an attempt to enjoy the fruits of all my endeavors. Now I can just feel, not even worry about feeling the right thing, just feel the thing as it is. That is my new goal. And there are no limits, nothing, just desire—and my desire is to be real. To be as honest and true to life, to really live. I used to think that I was truthful (as of late), but I truly see now that I was lying and now I can try to be honest. I think that this pending trip will really do wonders for my honesty, will boost my truth to levels unknown.
--
Leaving, again, but I guess it always feel s that way. I bought a bike yesterday—for $275. Now, I am in Sacramento…Nick and Mike and Ritchie and I drove all night to be here, now. It is unbelievably beautiful, this city. I bought a sticker from a hemp store in "Old Sacramento" it says "SIMPLIFY". It is honest, it is going on my bucket. Nick isn't too keen to experience, he didn't want to leave the expressway at all. But I got him to drive up Freeport Ave and I saw "Mums" a veggie dive recommended in the book. Steve and I will have to check it out when we are both up here. I say, the sun is shinin' down on me hard, but I still cant wait for warmer weather, for San Francisco, for Berkeley, for Michael Parenti and Jesse Michaels, for 924 Gilman and the Modern Times Bookstore. I came so close last year. This time I am fifty miles away and I cannot wait.
--
And the joy is overwhelming. After riding last night for hours in the not-so-warm temperature and the oh-so-high hills, I found a hostel with vacancies. The San Francisco Travelers Inn at 374 5th St. Nick dropped me off at 20th St. I had little direction and hope. I went to two hostels before this one. I dropped $120 for the week and I get kicked out on the 1st, I am pretty sure. By then, I should have this city on the back of my hand (hah!). I did a lot already today, I went to the top of Telegraph Hill, to the Marina, to Haight-Ashbury (and I saw a neat anarchist bookstore). I have been to two natural foods stores—the Rainbow something on 13th and Folsom and some other one on Haight St.. I have eaten twice and feel I am spending too much money. But, this big city living never really attracted me, I feel I may be bored before Parenti. I may go back up to Sacramento. But, Steve! Where is he? Who knows, and he knows not where I am. I really want to be somewhere like Tempe, where it is warm and it doesn't rain and we can camp out and no worries. I am just spending way too much money. But, other than that, things are great! I wonder what'll happen next.
--
So, the guy sleeping on top of me is an Aussie named Dechlan. He is a neat fella. I have no idea what I am doing here. I walk and bike around this town and I just don't know why. I was looking into jobs yesterday, and I am going for an interview on Wednesday. I have no doubt that I will get the job, so what am I doing? Am I already settling on San Fran? I hope not. But, I uses it could be wonderful. Steve should, said he would wind up here tomorrow and we were supposed to correlate a place to meet, but we didn't. Now, chances are, we wont even meet up until Parenti. I am sick, I have a cold. It is horrible. I am going to take Francisco's words to heart and make eating my least priority, and I don't think I can make food in the hostel kitchen anymore, as that is probably why I am sick. I am at the SF City College waiting for the library to open, because I am completely lost in technical life and I really want to check my email. Hah!
--
I like to think of myself as a relatively normal person in a sea of abnormality. From the street people to the suits I am a happy medium. Lost in the day-to-day movement of this and that, tit for tat, and wondering. Looking out a glass window watching all the beautiful people scoff at all the ugly people and wonder if I am one of them.
--
I walked forever around SF today, from 374 5th to GG Park and back—and then some in between walking. I put in two applications for employment and thought how fun living in the city could be. If I did live here, I would volunteer at Bound Together and work at a leisurely pace that allowed me to pay for four walls, and eat and enjoy myself. But, Steve will be here soon and I will probably be whisked away to something bigger and better. What or where? I don't know.
--
Being Everywhere
It is possible and I am
A being, going
everywhere
--
Oh my God, how I love CA, it is so warm today, at least 70 degrees and oh-so sunny. All I have to do is meet like four people and think how awesome life would be!
--
Guess what I found today! The Pacific Ocean!! I guess I have been here before, but right now I could touch it. It isn't very writer friendly here so I'll finish when another time occurs…
Yeah, so, what I wanted to say back at the beach was: I HAVE FINALLY BEEN ON AN OCEANS SHORE!!! Gulf of Mexico, Lake Michigan, Long Island Sound, done 'em all. Now, all I have left is the Atlantic Ocean…I have even done the English Channel! Alright, whatever. I was sitting on the beach, dreaming, I really wanted Steve to pull up and say: "Try acid, Brian, its guaranteed". Then I could've sang Bob Dylan and things would be wonderful. But then I was also thinking about actually doing something with my life, like going to college and putting my thoughts to good use. Right? I guess it is like I was telling Rachel, I am still uneasy in the college situation, in being surrounded and judged and expected and rated by a panel of my peers on just how "cool" I really am. People just searching for a breaking point and not stopping until they find it, until they know that their net worth is greater than mine. And when I finished over-analyzing the situation, I watched the most beautiful Pacific Sunset, I could see the suns violent eruptions as it slowly gave way to the hungry ocean. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, and I didn't take a picture. Whomever sees my pictures will hear the sunset story, and they will hear the reason I didn't take a picture: they can go experience it themselves! Not long after the setting, I left. I was very cold by the ocean and contrary to popular belief, my fat doesn't keep me warm. So, I was going very fast, cruising up Oak Hill, and what happens at the crest? I get a flat tire. It was horrible and on the way home I let it get to me, I frowned. But, as soon as I realized I was frowning, I scoffed at myself and started smiling. I really want to start working or continue moving, because doing nothing all day, all by myself, is boring. I really need to talk to Steve. Hopefully, I will see him tomorrow…
--
Slightly Appalled
I am appalled with myself for catching up with mainstream, for getting it on with the Superbowl and the lies of television culture. But happiness prevails with FNB. Always! They can alleviate my pain or pressure, they are so "right on" in nearly everything they do, everywhere they are. It is a subculture of love that really needs to be embraced. Everything here, right now seems so well; and I know this has been popping up rather frequently, but I only wish Steve were here to experience this with me.
--
I just don't know anymore, about my life, about life. What is right, what is wrong, what the hell is relative? So, if Einstein's theory of relativity (stating that everything is relative) is correct, that means that everything is right and wrong; and in that, success comes from doing anything. And even success and failure is relative because they are simply lessons learned—simply blocks that form the pyramid of "who one is". It is very pyramidical, I think, because, the base is all lessons learned leading to the earthly pinnacle which is physical death—and I think the sharpest point is dying with a smile. But, at one time, I also thought that I knew things. HAH! How great these lessons really are that show me joy and pain, stupidity and humility, happiness and sadness, that show me life. I guess I am still really naive, because after admitting I know nothing I tell myself that I know relativity. Hopefully one day I'll realize the process of holding and gaining knowledge without knowing anything, and right now it occurs to me that that is wisdom—and I am far from wise. Hell, what is wise? IT IS RELATIVE!!
--
I don't know why I feel it is important to scribe my demise and my shortcomings. In attempting to establish myself as "me", with no introduction, I am sort of compromising those "labels". Tonight, I ate a donut. I would've eaten pancakes if IHOP weren't closed. I guess I am re-evaluating my priorities; and while I know that animal welfare is a top priority, I don't know where the summit is. And I ended up at Denny's—where I am now—listening to two girls talk about guys and relationships, and I love it, I wish I could do that sometimes. But, it is just so superficial and that is only entertaining in small doses. And, in all actuality, I am very happy I am not like those people, very happy.
--
Soul searching this morning
$240 isn't enough to end military spending
so, we're just gonna havta think harder
stiletto heels
and baby shoes
trees sky rocket
and the bay is calm
maybe life isn't about getting things done
or going to school
we can learn everything, watching life, here
--
And it isn't about staying in the lines or conformity at all, it is mostly just ABOUT!
--
Supposedly Steve got into town today, Dechlan told me. So I went looking for him. I was looking at the addresses in the handbook attempting to decipher which location made the most sense, and I figured it out! There is no "sense", and nothing makes it. That is fucking life—no sense, no additives, nothing is is is is—Franko "the is of the is is what is" BUT IT MAKES NO SENSE!! Nothing makes sense anymore! Yes, that is awesome, no sense made by nothing, becoming nothing, being nothing. No sense, so lets just stop…
--
I really wish Pedro would stop snoring.
--
Yeah, Steve came by this morning, woke me up. I guess it will eventually show in my writing, but when Steve and I are together, I don't much feel like writing. Why? Because I have someone to remember it with. I guess I really just no longer feel the need; why remember through my writing, when, through Steve and I's direct memory, we can remember?
--
Alright, new hostel, more vibrant and international, more cute girls. Pedro wished me well this morning and for the most, I am well. Steve and I are 99% broke and breaking more every minute! It kind of sucks, but, oh well; we will pull through! I always think my brother fits the role of traveler better than I, because he is 100% better with people than I am. I am just another one of the lost waiting while people like him and Steve are more positively magnetic. But, he couldn't hack this kind of travel life, wait, yes he could. Why doesn't he? Hopefully that will be answered. Steve is on the phone again, working his magic and I am hiding in my room. See the difference? I am going to do something.
--
Yeah, I even sleep better here. And, I actually have to wait for use of the shower which means people are actually clean. But, I kind of don't like waiting. Steve is leaving for Sacramento today. He may have already left, but our bikes are locked together. I really liked that black pen, it was good to me. Oh, well.
--
Maybe it is just a longing for love, life. Because I am happy now. To have a companion, a lover; that loved me and twisted my hair would be beyond sensory. I don't think I can find that here in California, I cant find much of anything anymore. But, whatever. I think pretty soon I am going to have to find or start looking harder for that girl. I think sometimes that Steve is the person, but it just doesn't seem right for him to stroke my hair and be passionate with me, it is definitely a girl that I don't think I have found yet, but I never know.
They serve coffee in pint glasses, just like Guinness at a pub and that is what it feels like. I am at a coffee shop—Muddy's—in the Mission, on Valencia.
--
Elvis doesn't pay his debts
I do
So I stopped
On the day he died (or the day I was born)
Now the IRS is out for blood
Cloaked in an alley
I'll survive
Leave our debt to someone else
--
I really think I need to get out of this city, I don't know what it is doing to me and I either don't like it, or I like it too much—I cant decide. See, in adversity I get happy, in goodness I get happy, so most of my life is spent in happiness. Must be a horrible life, always smiling—doesn't your face hurt? Yeah, sometimes, but not as much as my legs! I think that a major decision is going to take place soon, like I will go to school in obscurity and not speak to ANYONE I know currently (besides Steve) and simply be lost for awhile in a life I don't really understand yet. So, maybe at the finish of this trip all that will go down, don't know yet. See, I like the west, but it seems so progressive that I don't know where to jump in, so building myself in the less progressive midwest may just be key to establishing a solid base for myself. That, I think, is key. This traveling base touts my experience, not my stance. And I am already rich with worldly experience lets focus now on an all encompassing stance, a religion of knowledge and truth, a pillar in the swamp of America, something to climb up and on so others can experience the experience. And, all of a sudden I don't know anything, struck dumb for no apparent reason. Today has been wasted away (as will most of the next seven days). So, yeah, what will happen is this: I will ride out this trip with Steve as previously pseudo-planned then go back to NW IN, get a job, go to school and institute public transit in the region. Or, try to anyway. It should be a fun project, and it will teach me a ton. And, I will attempt to set up a cool little coffee shop out there—24 hours, and I will play U-Roy and Fifteen and Michael Parenti and it will be awesome. Yeah. I am playing it all out in my head right now, and it is awesome! So, that will be my next task and hopefully it will all succeed without negation? Lets just hope it will all go smoothly.
--
I was going to call someone tonight, but then I realized that I don't have anyone to call. Sad life, eh? I think that if I don't dwell on it then it really is okay, everything will work itself out, I need not meddle. But, I really don't know. So I guess I'll call someone tomorrow. Probably my Dad, because I don't see anyone else accepting the charges! Hah! I took a personality test this morning on the internet, and it said I was a solid business man. So, if I can fly this coffee shop we'll prove computers right—it said I was most at home on Wall St. That is hilarious. In the shower I thought of running for president, and various other offices leading up to it, I planned my life under the nozzle set to massage so my thoughts would be beautiful, I took a shower for the better part of an hour and I am thinking of taking another—they are so ultimately relaxing, it is unbelievable. And, the heavy drug use in hostels shy me away from the common room, it entices me to join and Steve and I talked about this the other day: He said that I am easily the life of the party when I am induced, at all other times I am sub-dued and shy—I think shy is better for me. I do the part better!
--
Another wasted day, so far. Just been at the hostel and to the library all I am going to do otherwise is hit up U.N. Plaza tonight for FNB and eat, since I am not really eating otherwise, from now till Tuesday I only will eat this peanut butter I have and FNB since they demonstrate Fri Sun and Mon. I will only have to go Saturday without eating and that shouldn't be much of a problem. I don't really need food anyway.
--
So, FNB was successful, and I am full. I ate so much, there was apples and cinnamon, soup, bread, cookies, bananas, and it was oh-so-good. I met a gutter punk from Humboldt, there was almost a fight between two homeless, but it dispersed. The punks name was Kenyan (?), he was cool. I also found a stretcher tool (for canvas) and I gave it to an FNB server that had paint on his pants. I think he was happy; but, as always, I don't even know. But, also, I heard that they serve everyday besides Sat and Tue. So, that is awesome.
--
Lately, I have been having grand visions, late at night and all the time. Visions of my own apartment in NW IN with a computer and a playstation and a TV, a good job that prompted me to shower everyday, parties with beer attracting old friends and new, family too, visions of higher education all throughout this mess; visions of Brian with fake friends, and paved lives, untruth shrouded, and passed as truth, visions of neglect and loss, visions of being just like everyone else, or the popular majority at least. Will these visions form a reality—a check of conviction (and it has been lacking) will soon form an answer. Demise at hand, or greatness soon to come?
--
Sometimes, I'll sit and wonder if I really do have a "why" to life and a subsequent "how"; but, sometimes I also wonder if I know what the hell I am talking about.
--
The parade is today
And for an instant
We forget
Racial boundaries
Country lines
Who we were taught to be
And enjoy
The parade
OH! The parade is about to begin
And for an hour
We can forget
Global warming
National debt
And what we were taught to do
And enjoy
The parade
Wait. The parade stopped at 3rd St.
And for a minute
We can blame
Racial boundaries
National debt
And who everyone else is
And mourn
The parade
Alas, they'll push forward
W/out the gas
W/out the money
W/out the hate
And we can relish
The parade
And the union it attempts to bring
--
I have slowly been noticing that categorizing people is not only easy, but the categories are getting more defined:
1. Those that are
--being those that accept who they are and roll with it
2. Those that are not
--being all those that acknowledge who they are and strive to be that without accomplishing
3. Those that want to be
--the largest category of all those searching for who they are by adopting others in hope that they can find themselves.
I place myself in the second category. Humble, with room for improvement. Sadly, the third category is not only the largest, but growing. As the rich get richer, those that thought they knew who they were second guess that and dive into the lowest category. I think that those in the first category are also those living on the streets. Why? Because of acceptance. In society, they are considered outside of society and that is amazing, because society is the popular majority, the winners, the leaders, the GW's and not the Naders, got it? Society is hell-bent on destroying society or at least policing it enough to where we have a one-world government. And those outside of this society are those silenced first, with a variety of means. And I feel that slowly I am gravitating to that arena. Obviously, I hold outer-society standards now and I am surviving.
--
I don't know how I ended up here, now. Well, I walked from the hostel, DUH! That isn't what I mean. Currently, the largest Chinese NY's event outside of China is going on right in front of me. Happy Lunar New Year!
--
It is really odd how so many people can be so devoid of life. Right now, I simply want to cross the street. No end in sight, however. There was this girl that walked by me and smiled, and I smiled back. Then she walked by again and I was engulfed in my writing. Now, I am kind of hoping that again she'll pass and maybe this time I will do something about it. Maybe.
--
Finally, I got to cross the St. Made me think about the chicken; but, it wasn't "why", it was "how". I used the BART underpass. Yep, a no-brainer. I don't know why I entertain the majority of my thoughts. It does one zero good to follow through negative (relative to one) thoughts.
--
So, sometime today I found $6 on the ground. That brought my total funds up to $8. Now I have less that $2. What does this mean? I am spending more money than I have again—this needs to stop.
--
Violent pull
South-north
Once and no.
Direction and going.
Terrible debate
Mind-game, head-show.
Where next, Columbus.
Crass-dance, be-bop.
Really, this is enough
Ten bucks can be everything
To a foreigner
American culture (on the skids)
Thank the high one
For bringing us all down
What a headshow
What a mindgame
--
Last nights FNB was amazing. I met Matt, a Canadian riding freight trains around North America. He alerted me to A16 (I think?), a huge protest in Quebec city—supposedly to put Seattle to shame. We will see. I haven't yet been to a major protest and I wouldn't mind going to Canada. But, hey, lets end wishful thinking. The last three days have been dreadfully similar: get up, eat, go to library, do some extracurricular activity, FNB, sleep. I will tell you, I am very caught up with the national media on a variety of fronts—from "Atomic Scientist Bulletin" to "Chess Life", and all the political magazines in between. I am a force to reckon with. And, to totally contradict myself, on the way home (?HAH?) from the library today, I was professing to myself: "I mean nothing and I am no-one and anyone that thinks their shit smells better than mine is probably right." It brought a smile to my face. And smiles aren't bad. I may go spend money right now—on bread, at Rainbow, that I could get for free tonight.
--
Oh my goodness, my hands are so numb I can barely write.
--
Okay, I am a lot better now, but writing still hurts a bit, by that I am forcing my hand to move and it doesn't like that. Perhaps I should just wait till morning to write.
--
Yeah, and it all makes sense now. It was so cold last night, I was completely numb—and it was uncomfortable. I spent at least three hours with FNB and I concluded (something that I have concluded before) that people are really the same wherever you go/are. Turns out some of the SFFNB are just like the Manhattan FNB. Just kids, of course, upper-middle class kids that are attempting to revolt by bringing to light things that their childhood didn't i.e. poverty. Now, this is basically still an assumption, I just looked out the window, HAH. I knew it was going to happen. The rear-wheel of my bicycle has been stolen. Now, I am not really angry, but a bit perturbed (?). This bike trip really hasn't even started yet and already my bike is out of working order. Ah, the joy. Steve is supposedly coming back to town today. I am supposed to meet him at Rainbow—3-5 p.m.—I am going to walk obviously. I am honestly thinking of scraping this whole trip and going back to Chicago. Just one problem right now: I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY LEFT TO GET TO CHICAGO. This new tire is going to be expensive, I'll need a rim, a tube, a tire, the gear sprocket. I almost don't even want to think about it. It could be upwards around sixty dollars. Far more than I have to spend. I am slowly working myself up to being angry and that is not what I want. I can just go up to U.N. Square and buy it back for cheaper. At least I think I can…
--
Yeah, so we left SF last night and rode BART to Colma, biked from there to San Carlos. Went in Safeway, slept outside of Safeway only to be awoken at 2:a.m. by a security guard. We went across the street to Albertson's and slept by the dumpster. I learned that it is really hard to sleep outside in the cold and I really got a strong feeling about homelessness and the way the homed look upon it. I concluded that I don't want to end up on the street. I don't think I slept too much over the course of the night, and that will make riding a lot today all the harder, we may go all the way to Santa Cruz today, depends on if we can make it there by 4 pm for FNB.
--
We didn't make it to FNB the next day, we made it to Boulder Creek (and we had to ascend and descend a huge hill to get there). There was a Natural Foods Store there, and friendly workers—especially Katie. She gave us some discounts and invited us to her apartment for dinner. Oh, how sweet it was. We had some toasted bread, amazing salad, and Quinot (?) with squash and pecans under maple syrup. It was very good. She let us set up camp in her backyard, which doubled as a Redwood Forest, it was magic(ally cold). Ah, yes, the weather. It got cold that night, not as bad as the night before, though. When we left the next morning we went to her work to say goodbye and thank-you. She gave us more bread and her phone number. Nice people are awesome. So we rode away, to Santa Cruz. When we got there we simply relaxed on the Boardwalk for a long time. Then we decided to go set up camp. About four miles out of Santa Cruz is New Brighton St. Beach. We set up camp, then headed back to town for FNB. On the corner of Water and Pacific, at the Town Clock, they were supposed to serve. Come 5:15, they hadn't and we had to leave to ensure getting to the tent before nightfall. And we did, with about half hour to spare. It was warmer than the night before, I fell asleep to the rhythm of the Rolling Ocean a quarter mile away. It was like a lullaby. Even with all of the discomfort, I slept decent. Until the rain. Recounting time is impossible. Even the date can be hard, but early early morning fierce wind and rain pounded our little tent. It is barely waterproof, and at 6.5' x 4' x 3' it is barely big enough for the both of us. If we touched the sides, water would seep in; I stayed dry, but Steve got a bit wet. That didn't dissipate for most of the day, and for most of the day we just sat in the tent. By the time we pack up tomorrow, we will have chalked up a good 36 hours in here. I have been out for barely a half-hour. The rain stopped recently, and the sun is fighting through the clouds, tonight could still be rough though. It could drive someone mad to be this enclosed for such a long time and little end in sight, but we did well. I honestly think we can handle most things very well. We mapped most of the trip, taking so many things into consideration, found towns with co-ops and the like that could serve as our base for the two-month leisure. We got things done and rode it out. I am going outside now, the sun has won. But, the rain will fight again.
--
So, this storm we are in is supposedly the worst of the season and isn't supposed to let up for at least three more days. That sucks. Camping in this rain and wind sucks. Last time some wild creature rummaged the dry bag and ate some of our filberts. That sucked. But, last night, we also ate at a beautiful natural foods restaurant in Capitola—Dharma's. We had vegan shakes and it was expensive, but that is okay. When you are down and out you don't have a budget. That is good, because we wouldn't keep to it if we had one. So, it is still raining today and we are just going to the next campsite. Good thing there are many campsites out here.
--
Life is rough. Last night raccoons tore through the dry bag and got everything wet. Sad. So we ride into Big Sur to do laundry. No l-mat. So we are now at Limekiln State Park. Yeah, we did 40 miles today over the rough terrain. Hopefully we'll hit San Simeon tomorrow to do laundry—we should, I foresee no problems. SO many times a day I feel like diving over the hill and rolling to my death in the ocean, but I always keep on going. I really don't know why. It could be some secret urge to win life, or maybe I just want to see my family again. At night, I get so cold, it is funny how CA is going through an energy crisis right now, because for the past 8 days I have not used power. I have, however, been subjected to power use. That is okay. I am living rustically, and I hate it. I guess it isn't really hate, but it really is rough. I was not ready for this at all. I never thought this was my fate. This is all brand new and beautiful and I love that, the nights suck though. I just wish I was at home (whatever that means) eating well, sleeping warm, doing good, and all that kind of stuff. I think in the past 10 days I have eaten one (1) hot meal, the rest has been cold granola, filberts and almonds. That is reality right now, that sucks. I could sit here and want want want, but I am not going to—everything will be better in Santa Barbara.
--
So we got to San Simeon today, they told us to go to Cambria. Morale, money, food, low. I really have no idea why I am out here. It is so cold, I feel like I am dead, that is the worst and all I can do is keep moving my feet; stopping only makes me colder. We figured out today that in the past 11 days, we have spent less than three hours indoors. Most of that was in Capitola—at Dharma's. That isn't good. I guess the best part is that, by the looks of the terrain, the big hills are over for awhile. That will make riding at least faster. We should be in Santa Barbara by the end of the week. That is positive. Right now, I am pretty sure it is the 13th of February, and riding a bike in February just isn't smart. IT MAKES NO SENSE. But, life is the same. Blah.
--
Everything, I think, works in stages. Stage 1 is the idea.
THE IDEA (stage 1)
To be self sufficient
Solar powered motor him with outlets and all that jazz
The speculation is easy, an old van shell could serve as the casing, chassis shocks and tire/underbody stuff all conforming to the make/model van casing. No problem. The top would be all solar panels. That isn't hard to create there, just a few books and some cash. What boggles me 100% right now is how to wire, or convert sun power into car power. That is more in depth, I will have to build an entire engine flowing from the scope of the sun. The only thing I would consider adding is a water for a cooler/radiator. I am going to have to learn all about engines and solar panels and cars. It is gonna be awesome.
--
Pier walking
Peripheral vision
Sea shit shore
Sandy beach bird
Gull go glide
Ahead : oil rig (x3)
Pacific Ocean
Pacific Oil
Looking sideways
--
Tip-toe
Topple down
In this place
There is no ground
--
glorious tar babies form
ocean shore grandiose
kelp tide seaweed
rocks washed away
cloud block sun
dreary day
glorious tar babies form
birds run away
wave pushing tide
feet pulling life
tar baby birds
never thank the sun
--
Amway, racetrack
Life moves fast-back
Time tells, stories mold
Hidden life crack
--
Rock-Bottom. It has been hit. We are at El Capitan for the second day . We had all of our hopes on tomorrow bailing us out. But that all faded, tomorrow is a holiday. So we dug through the Boy Scouts' trash and found a plethora of food. We found bread and salad and carrots and trail-mix-snacks and we found meat. We didn't eat the meat, we do have limits. Being vegan and believing vegan comes with all sorts of baggage. I am very proud to be vegan, but I may take a step down in the near future to lacto-vegetarian. That means I could eat eggs and milk and dairy (cheese). I wont eat egg straight up, soy milk is better than cow milk, and well cheese is a factor. I will probably still be mostly vegan, but every now and again I will eat a cheese pizza or a buttermilk biscuit or something. When your entire day is focused on nothing but thinking and eating, a lot of thought goes into food. I don't even feel bad about it, I feel good. This would be a conscious decision on my part and we don't even know what is happening. Anyway, Santa Barbara is thirty miles away and we will either go in there tomorrow or Tuesday, get money then eat a real meal then buy khaki pants then get jobs. That is how our next few days are looking. It isn't that bad, actually good—except how sore my body is. We have been camping for 12 nights straight, tonight is thirteen. We have had much bad luck, but goodness is on the horizon. I also have a few simple desires, that may or may not play out. I want to sleep on a bed sometime, I want to sit down and play Final Fantasy VIII on a playstation sometime, and SimCity, simple things that are usually taken for granted. I used to live really easy, and although people live much harder than I am now, I am living hard now and it sucks. I hate it. Just to get back to an Olympia or NY situation would be ideal. I will explore moving to Olympia or thereabouts with Tiffany whenever she is better. Living with her is easy and that is good. Next time I am settled somewhere (Santa Barbara or Chicago-land) I will get back in touch with her and explore some options.
--
Trickling water fountain
Days end
Nights begin
--
Rock cloud formation
Not moving down
Stagnant still horizon
Squall!
And rain from rock
Cloud formation
--
In just a few hours we will have $ and we will eat—for the first time in a few days. That is not very literal, because we have eaten something everyday, but this will be an exquisite feast of good vegan fare. And I cant wait.
--
Oh what a joyous day! After being up all night at a coffee shop Steve disappears for two hours to get his $150 from his Mom. We rejoice. It is barely 10 a.m. We hadn't slept, so we go to the library to check our e-mail for the first time in awhile. Nothing exciting—but next is lunch, at Sojourners. A friendly wait staff and magnificent vegan food (topped by vegan shakes) drove us to complete ecstasy. After the meal we sat lethargically in the booth deeply discussing soular awareness amongst all beings, the equality (relativity) of the universe, realism vs. idealism, and much good thought on top. Then we leave, and the universe still runs by chaos clocks. A true revelation. The eating doesn't end, as we slowly bike our way across town to Lazy Acres and their bakery. He got two chocolate chip cookies, I got four bran muffins, we both mildly eclipsed heartburn. Then I called my Dad. It was a great conversation and we have %515 arriving in a few days time. I said it would all get better once we got to Santa Barbara, and after one rough night the sun is shining and short sleeves are too much. And two kids that were eating out of dumpsters a few days previous had $600 and a whole world of life ahead of them.
--
The Art of Living
And, it really is an art. So, I got the job today and that should extend Santa Barbarian life for quite awhile. For the most part, this life could continue until I end it; that is a wonderful conclusion. Steve, however, did not get a job. That is sad. His morale is low. I only foresee (ah, change that) I principally foresee Steve on a bus in two weeks back to Chicago. I like the kid, we have some of the best conversations. Today, we got to iterating just how important money is—in my life and in his. In his, it is more of a factor. That, too, is sad. But, alas, we broke down life in the next few days; life hinges on his ability to find work. Before we got here, I predicted to him that I could be employed in three days, it took two. A positive attitude goes a long way. Things are gong to be fine any and all ways for the both of us, forever.
--
Things keep looking up, especially after a nod. We found a nice little corner in a park—and it is real dark. We drop our sleeping bags and fall asleep beneath the stars. Only roused by sun and rain, hope the latter comes not again. Apartment or space, looking for a little (no waste). Budget is tight, but jobs equal might. Situation is shit, from an outsiders end of it, but we're pushing on, our convictions strong.
--
I didn't mean for that to happen until towards the end. I am writing more poetically; pro-se-active—if you will. Whatever, it works for me.
--
It is raining again this morning. It is no fun to wake up between a tree and a fence next to the ocean during a rain storm—however light it may be. And now my sleeping bag is all wet and tonight will be miserable, but hey, I get to be at work all day. Hah. Christine said she'd like to publish my e-mails, hooray for her and a victory won. Chicago is still in my blood and may be soon connected with my words. I have a positive mental outlook; and I think that may just be why I am not affected by the negative in this situation, rather I am gearing Steve up to par with my positivity. Lots of averages, a pseudo-mathematician—that means: when Steve and I talk he likes to break everything down and take in some numbers, so the easiest way for me to get through to him is to get to his level and use numbers in my explanations. I think it works. He usually concedes with a heart "I understand", whether or not he implements and acts upon is to be seen. Judgment soon.
--
I remember times I rejoiced for spring. But, out here, I hate it. It is still raining, has been for days. And although we have a makeshift roof, there are no walls and we still get wet. This morning, my entire right side was (and still is) soaked. My left side, dry as the desert. So something is working. I just cant figure out what. I smell horrible, like "someone who sleeps outside and doesn't shower or change his clothes—and is wet." I smell like a wet dog, I wont be able to hide it much longer, my co-workers are gonna get suspicious. I think tomorrow I will get a night at the hostel and shower and stuff, but today I am going to check my email and go to work later. I think, that I am doing well in this life, and I can only do better.
--
Particularities. Reviewing and researching life—living, leads to certain particularities that one picks up on and fuses into ones own life as truth. This is closely associated with believing without experimentation. The common solution to this plight is travel. Travel brings about many diverse situations and personalities and allows one to judge with a pool of experience. Basically, the objective of life is broadening ones outlook. Some would counter with the value of perfection. The main argument being that perfecting a particular allows one higher social status amongst those engrossed in the particular, who themselves may merely be broadly attempting knowledge of that particular. Outcome being that in order to focus your entire being on a particular you should first explore the wide range of particulars to determine which situation would be most lucrative to your being.
--
I really like to think I am a jazz man at heart, but I don't really know yet; and, I don't want to overemphasize any aspect of being more than another before I understand the wide range and scope of life.
--
Regards to Music. Musical inotations create a life all of their own, and putting on those headphones allow me to mentally bask in that world while, visually and physically, I am affixed to the "real" world surrounding me. Mind being more powerful than body, I feebly attempt to make the visual world correlate with the musical world. Adapting conversations into music-based fodder and imagination goes out of control, aided merely by some hard-to-understand words and musical brilliance. Great ideas come to life in this new surreal world slapped atop the old dying world, and hopefully when the headphones are removed we can retain a bit of that "fake" world and bring it to life, and be happy. That is the meaning of music.
--
Sometimes Life Just Turns On You (and this is one of those times)
For 2-PAC
Sometimes life just turns
Before the river flows
And the mountain never knows the disparity
Of its needs
Sometimes life just turns
Before the sun can rise
And flowers that were growing
Face a quick demise
Sometimes life just turns
Before the words come out
And books that are printed
Feel economic clout
Sometimes life just turns
Before we say the words
And everyone who cares will
Wonder what they live for
Sometimes life just turns
Before we live our dreams
And the life that follows
Is always less than "what it seems"
And sometimes life just turns
After we are buried
Then we sit and ponder
The lessons that were learned
--
Making Future Plans. Something I dread, always have. But, for right now, lets look ahead! I want to go to College, major in political science and minor in philosophy. It seems so clear to me now that I wonder why it has taken so long to grasp it. Regardless of the correlation to the past, Indiana University seems promising. They offer decent political science and philosophy classes, and it would be cheaper than attempting to land something out of state. And, college just seems so right for me; I have these grand thoughts (ideas, images), but I lack focus. A way to understand how prevalent and imaginable these thoughts are, and to find out what the next step is, learn focus. Also, I believe that a college like atmosphere (surrounded by peers) would be the best "next step", because that is when I feel most uncomfortable. As I look further into this way of life, I am sure the answers (truth) will be fluid. I can also learn how to focus my writing, basically I can learn how to focus life and that is what I need, that is what I will learn—the details will be forthcoming.
--
Revelry : 54.33
And John saideth to Luke
"My brother, you are free"
And Luke respondeth
"I know not what you mean"
For Luke was so duped by culture
That Luke knew not the extent of his chains
Nor did he want too
In freedom, Luke was lost,
Being commanded his entire life previous
Luke wiltered away
Until he begged John to again control him
And from this the people learned
And form this the people remain
Now is the time to break the chains
That bindeth humanity to control
We must welcome corrosion of that link
And know freedom
And be free
--
I don't even think that I know why I am writing this. That wasn't what I intended to write, I thwarted the original idea halfway through and that seemed appropriate. Especially because it is the truth. Yadda Dadda.
--
Earthquake in Seattle/Olympia yesterday. Everyone is okay, still weird though.
--
Shot Yourself life was grand, wasn't it?
(for no good reason, for Kurt Cobain)
play Nintendo
go to school
and
shoot your teacher in the face
what’s the world coming too?
The human race?
At home, TV hour
Stay up all night
Take no shower
Go to school
People will laugh at you
And
Shoot your teacher in the face
What’s this world coming too?
This human race?
Uh oh
Legs on fire
Cannot get no higher
Pot now crack pipe
College student
Gripe gripe gripe
Then just
Shoot your professor in the face
What’s the world coming too?
The human race?
Hard now
Future thoughts
For what just have you fought
What are you gonna do
People still laugh at you
You can
Shoot your professor in the face
What’s this world coming too?
This human race?
Got a job
Got a life
But you still cant find a mate
Well just
Shoot your boss in the face
What’s the world coming too?
The human race?
Then you realize
Life is a circle
All by yourself
Watch TV
Then you break down
And you cry
You just want to die
So just
Shoot yourself in the face
Save the world right now
And the human race
--
What happens when you know everyone is watching you—and for all the wrong reasons, do you sweat? Does your heart beat faster? Do you run? What? Everything happens, and everything is done. It is simply how one recognizes it, how one looks under the pressure, how one behaves. If you can pull off complete calm on the outside while the inside is writhing and bordering disaster. Because your entire body is trembling with fear, and if someone came up form behind, you would fall apart. But, if the reasons are wrong, then why doe sit permeate your being (get under your skin)? Because "they" have all the capabilities to make their reasons right. Here, it is you against the world—when usually it is "I against I." Here, they hold all of the power and you are the gross minority and their will is your reality and you can either get the fuck out of there and lose a little face (admit to erroneous charges using actions, not words) or stand your ground and attempt to prove them wrong. I have chosen the latter time and time again, and have not yet recorded a loss. So, we will see what happens.
--
I am like Rimbaud here, spending my season in hell. Homeless, moneyless, do not enjoy my job, on the verge of being "whacko". What doe sit all add up too? Shite. A horrible existence that I neither feel the need to continue nor pursue. What the hell am I still doing here, and what am I trying to prove? That I can make it on my own in adverse conditions? Proven. That I never give up and always win the fight? Unprovable. I lose often and give up twice as much, it is the nature of learning, the essence of being, the thing that Rimbaud learned. I see it from here and know it is coming, so why am I still fighting the fight? I think I'll just quit my job and go away. Get a bus to Tucson—just how the plan was in December. Then I will be there. I can obviously get by without a place to stay and stuff, so that isn't even an issue. The issue lies in leaving Steve. I can do it on my own, I actually rather it that way; it is about Steve, he can do it on his own, but I don't think he will. I see him throwing in the towel and getting the fuck outta here, back to Indiana, home.
--
Love. Many times I find myself recounting telling glimpses and unplayed desires. Late at night, when I am alone I sadly recall missed moments and think to myself the greatness that could've—even should've prevailed had I lived more in the moment and made myself more vulnerable sometimes. If one were to dig into my true mind, they would see that I find myself to be very smart and that to myself (at least), I always have an answer. Except in the cases of attraction, desire, love. For I am lost in the awe of these feelings, and find it rather difficult to confront and unleash them. In those matters I have always relied on subtlety, but in most other matters directness is my saviour. It is definitely a profound weakness on my side in the cases of love, because I am unsure of my capability. And I am unsure because I have never had the opportunity to watch love and learn from it, all that I have seen is fakeness; and I would rather be wrong than fake. So, it seems my only salvation is sacrifice. I have come to this conclusion before, but I have obviously never followed through—the reason being fear. Once I sacrifice my being, I have nothing left, I am totally vulnerable and that scares me. What failure can one have without pride, and the quickest way to end pride is to allow vulnerability. I see that the successful in the stratosphere of love are also those that can fake, because through faking you are not becoming vulnerable, just going through the motions; and that fake vulnerability does not discount pride, because the faker paid no penance to truth. Which is where my being lies, and the direct reason that love (true emotion) is hard for me to emulate. Love is a gamble and losing is ending pride; faking is cheating; and winning, well winning is rewarded to those that can risk their entire self on a game of chance.
--
Sometimes, life will creep up on you and you wont even know that you previously contained that life capacity, that vigor, that stamina, that haste, or that desire. But, then again; sometimes, you will fall flat on your face and get the fuck out of there, post haste.
--
Toilet Stall
Off white wall, right
Metal
Roll Holder
White
Toilet paper
Slab
To cover graffiti
Left
Bare
And ahead
SUCK SQUAT WHERE
--
An Indent to Name
Just words, afolly
Jumble together, words
And commas, periods, dashes, colons
E.E.,;:--Cummings…--;,,;--
And it doesn't mean anything
Just an indent to name
--
Being surrounded so long by library shelves I silently remember that song—"it must be hard to be a cashier in a bookstore, had to be surrounded by a history of your true loves" that song is by Jim Carroll.
--
Misconceptions are great, because you are overwhelmed when wrong. Last night, we lost our special spot between the tree and the fence. Roused by police. But, nice police—and that is the misconception. And pointed in the direction of the Douglass Preserve (or Wilcox Property), we may have found permanent shelter. Hopefully.
--
Life takes a turn. Realizing truth is wonderful. I quit my job. Right now I am ecstatic. And, it is cold outside. Bah. Who cares. I got five bucks and a little hope. Ha-Ha! I should probably be looking for another job, but what of it? Most likely not for me. Paradise. Ha!
--
Life delivers itself to those that deserve. And what are the criteria, who holds that great knowledge of need? Doing my best, I can only say "Look to the sky". If you are motivated by the clouds and the sun and the moon and all that is distant; if you yearn to create through some medium that which is so far away, then you are deserving. And, so forth, you should find life.
--
A star was born in my eyes last night. The Aris Hedon Story. Coming soon. I figure it to come in steps, and be somewhat mirrored to my own life. Well, a quick breakdown for right now: 1. "Evolutionary Autonomy"; by Aris Hedon—a non-fiction book by a fictional character (released on PAAEP Press) 2. "The Aris Hedon Story"; (generic title), by Brian Bailitz. For all practical reasons, I will be doing all of the writing, for both parties. But, I plan it to be deep philosophical journey into the mind of humanity, into the mind of Aris Hedon, into me. And, Aris Hedon will continue to publish philosophy and poetry books on PAAEP, while I will be belting out his life story, why he feels that way. So, I am going to be leaving S.B. soon, so I can accomplish this. Oh, and as Steve mentioned, it will really knock 'em dead when Jigme Gamin writes a book (and Canyon Toomb has an art show). Well, that is the plan, and hopefully I'll stick to it.
--
Oh, what a time to be alive. It is 70 degrees and March 13.
--
I very clearly remember those days when I used to "possess" things. Material wealth, the American dream. Once, I embodies that. No joke. Wouldn't guess it now? I went to see a movie today. Being inside, in the dark, scared me. I don't know why. When I switched my lifestyle from being inside to being outside, I felt better. At first. Then it was too much too soon. But, being inside today just felt wrong. Even though it was a good movie, it felt bad. So, I feel better being outside, being wild, being stupid. It feels more "right". And, we all want to be right, don't lie. Now, I feel apart from society, I have always felt that, vaguely; but, now I feel like an ape in the lot of man. I am destined to be scientific research, and, soon, extinction. Yes, they are running me from resting spots as if I were an American Indian. Or, a Jew in Germany. And, as the Indians show, running is valiant; but using them against them is brilliance. Where is there Indian land without a smoke shop or a Casino? The white man is easily duped and addicted. But, so are the Indians and everyone else. So, fuck it, right? No, lets die fighting. TuPac: "I hope I die for a principle, something I lived for". That, THAT, is the embodiment, the truth, of life. No matter who you are—die for what you live. So, my big plan, my fight, is to go "home" (whatever that means) to write a book. I haven't been there for about a year, what has changed? Hopefully, everything.
--
Shadow, Mirror
See everything in fall
Take it with
Plates, plastic cups, pillow cases
Shadow, mirror, take it
Because I cherish nothing
But you should be happy
Shadow Mirror
--
Today is the day. I get to cash in my tickets. All for a ticket, dog.
--
It is growing harder to concentrate lately. SO many things are culminating in a life that is already so mixed up that a confusion badge is warranted. I am not sure of any decision I make, and, overwhelmingly, I feel remorse for what I choose now—a sort of pre-regret. Setting in, to stay. My mind is deteriorating at a rate that I barely understand what I am doing. Motor functions are usually 100%, but my mind is losing ground. My life is losing ground, and I can merely take it. It is the supreme separation of mind, body, and soul: my mind is separated so that it doesn't even affect my body anymore. But, my body is controlled by my mind so that it carries out its wishes. This will ultimately lead to revolt. Craziness, clinically. Rarely, I suppose, a person feels themselves losing their mind. It sucks. And in this triangle, my soul is the ultimate loser, because it has failed to condition the mind in a way that would lead the body to supremity. But, hey, I am still alive.
--
I am serious. This is a silent cry for help—but I am the only being that can help me. Last night I thought of just walking off the cliff and ending it. I wrote a list of goals yesterday—they are in my wallet. The first was to save myself. The last was to save the world. How that could've accomplished those goals is precise, and everything in between would be null and void. I will clear this right now: I do not have a death wish, I only wish that life was beautiful. Sometimes, my thoughts are so ugly I feel I don't belong; other times they are so beautiful I feel I can save the world. Where is the happy medium, the blind complacency of average life?
--
Sunglass Eyes
Dark shade
Mirror
A telling glance (of me to me)
Looking through lens
Seeing more lens
Simple sunglass eyes
No telling
If they are for me
--
Striking the Heart
Deadening calm
(of trip-hop dance and midnight musketeers jeering along in silent rhythm)
Encompassing pain
(the entire body movement, hurt—because yesterday was too much fun)
dead-pan stare
(at the urban weed, the plug, a dogs dream, fire-hydrant)
and then I just try to tell myself that is the sun, the unending waves of heat I feel
then I remember that the sun hasn't been out for hours and it is actually quite cool
tinny laughter
(turning my eyes from the plug to that old psychedelic dance that went underground when Jerry Garcia died neither Phil Lesh nor Phish could revive it—a sort of "dance of death")
scraping ground
(wincing my painful neck further, just to see that old stubborn door and reflect: how many times had that girl shut that door only for it to be left open again?)
bad coffee
(a dollar fifty cant buy the world, not even a good cup of joe; Einstein, where now, do we go?)
and an incessant sip ensues as the taste grows more better and eventually adds to my greater pain—like drinking Jack to warm up
then it starts to get more chilly, it is useless to combat because my back is on fire, a magma resting place while the rest of my body is in Antarctica
Conclusion
(because "the end" seems so impersonal and I haven't ended, because there is no resolution I am still at odds and instead of throwing this at the speakers so that damn trip-hop that is toxicating me will stop, I will simply conclude and pack up)
--
Beer Stall Beau
Fuck you, go home
Get away from me.
--
Delirium steps in, as I step away. I can tear your heart out and not look twice at your warm esophagus dangling in my hand. I can kick you in the face and take your wallet and purchase cigars just to blow the smoke up your ass. Homophobe. I can hurt you in more ways than one because I don't care about you, because I barely care about me. I can make pain smell funny by pissing in your face to wake you up, I can. But I just don't care enough too. I don't see enough "end" in pain, just bad beginnings.
--
Despondency (or "growing old")
I can step outside of myself and look inside now, I can see where these thoughts and feelings come from. This is definitely something new that allows me to reflect like this, never b4 could I watch myself go from ecstatic (gonna change the world) to despondent (gonna kill myself). Not only is it scary, but it is hard. It is scary to step outside of yourself and watch feelings, intentions, and desires stream by in monosyllables; it is hard because all I can do is watch. Like an un-ending drama, you stay to the end or miss it. I decided awhile ago to ride out this storm and hopefully have some handle on cause and effect for next time. But, it is a blur. I see what I am doing, plainly, but cannot alter it. And that despondency—no, that knowledge, is leading to despondency; that despondency is leading to complacency. Now, here, is the ultimate question: to be complacent or dead? Harsh, but possibly truth. See, being young you pick how the story goes (of course, without knowing it); being old, you simply ride the lightning. This is where I am now, able to see how I am fucking up, but unable to change it. Maybe, hopefully, something will give. But, for now, I am despondent and weary of the future. How's that for truth?
--
Rewarding the Imp
In Narcotics anonymous
You are expected to relapse
What about life in general?
--
Living in a Plastic Bag
Life makes me
There is no vice-versa
Because plastic bags have a fail rating
--
I don't really "feel" life anymore, and that is the worst thing for someone like me. The despondency, the delirium, all true. Making me cold towards and tried about life. I just want to be gone, away from here. I don't feel here anymore. Not sure where I feel, but sure it isn't here. I want to be building my solar car and get busy saving the world. But, I want to start at the beginning. Heard once that if you cant do for yourself what you intend to do for the entire world, then maybe you cant even do it. So, I'll save myself 1st.
--
Regardless of good or bad, this is the day. Bye-Bye Santa Barbara, hello Greyhound.
--
Ne'er a Closing Moment (Santa Barbara)
Wind blow, never cease
Aboard a rusty metal (tin can)
Pedal east
Destiny
--
So, yeah, hello Greyhound. It is March 25th (?), nine o'clock a.m. (?), in two hours I will be on the way to L.A. Then on from there to Chicago. I have had optimisms (and pessimisms) for how things will unfold from there and I just hope everything is okay. It has been nearly a year (Olympia did well) and I am excited. I wont be there for two more days, but I feel good about the time between. Maybe I'll meet a girl, or something. Last time I took the Greyhound was Nov. '99 from NY to Chicago (and the trip back, but I call it from leaving) with the ever-popular Cleveland layover. This time we have LA Denver, and Omaha layovers. Yay for us! Maybe I'll buy a book…
--
Las Vegas Fuck. Look at me. Go play the slot game and miss the bus. What a fuckin' pity. I didn't even win any money. That's the way life is though. Now, I get three more hours here in good old Las Vegas. I can see, in this brief span, why gambling sucks. It is like watching TV with more incentive—but not much. This is a fake city, and it is a sad city. Many, too many, lost souls. It is likewise sad to know that my mother loves this city and I will most likely talk with her about it. Especially because something seems to now have happened. STRANDED. For two hours and forty five minutes longer. I would really like to get myself up outta this place…
--
Grand Junction, CO Finally. Somewhere away from rest stops and Las Vegas. COFFEE! At the Java House, it feels good, too. Colorado, seems nice enough.
--
Voluptuousness
Tear grazed eye
Hot bullet pain (of a sigh)
Volley up to the next
Voluptuousness
Rocky-Mountain West
--
Denver, CO Oh, what a world. Traveling by bus isn't all that great, it actually sucks. But, Denver, is great. They have a really neat TRAM line, like SF's BART only above ground. I haven't met "that girl" yet, but I did meet Chris. He is scary. Right now he is sitting across the terminal aisle from me. Smiling his eyes behind those tinted-blue shades. He gave me his # and said I should call him in a week and let him know how Chicago is. I am a bit leery…
--
Chicago, IL Oh my goodness, what a trip. After getting my buckets and putting my bike together, I rode around this big city looking for Clark St. I found it. By the time I made it to 3472 my hands were well frozen. It was zero degrees Celsius when I got here and it is dropping. So, frozen hands at the door and no on is home. Shit. It is cold, it was 70 degrees (f) when I left Santa Barbara. What a world. Waiting. Erin, lovely Erin arrives to rescue me! She is hot, and she just so happens to live with my bro. Woo-hoo. She got my message and let me in. Thank goodness! She is nice too! She pointed me towards Joe although we didn't find him. Then she pointed me towards veggie-aurants. But, I didn't find them. I am on Belmont, eating Indian buffet and reeling in the events. Things are good, things are great, things will get better.
--
What a day in Chicago. I don't have a clue what is going on. I drank a beer last night and met a few people. I have been totally thinking *OPPORTUNITY*, seeing with unglazed wyes and such. My brother is a great net-worker and artist and all around person. I like him—because he is my brother, and because he has potential. We can really do some stuff together, and pretty soon (in about a half-hour) we'll discuss the future. We'll get along.
--
Some time has passed and that's okay. Well, not that much time, regardless. And, I don't feel like writing, I just got the pen; it felt right.
--
Apr. 4 2001
So, last night I hung with Nick/Heidi and BeeJay/Manda at RTC. I am very excited about some things I have been thinking and acting upon. Nick has a benefit show this Sunday for the Haven House and I offered to cook good vegan soup. That is a go. Now I am looking into buying/renting a large warehouse to first play shows and evolve into a Voyeur-esque coffee shop and restaurant that also plays shows. I am hoping to get the aforementioned individuals to help out, back this up and get it off of the ground. I will run it by them soon. Enthusiasm really makes an improvement , so if we can get excited and rock this we can be the movement.
--
Outside of "Reality" I like Nick, he is an honest person, ambitious, and he cares. But, I was with them last night and they were talking about TV. About shows cancelled and nights they run and such. Anyway, Nick made the comment "that's one less hour I have to spend in front of the boob tube." Early that evening I was digging through TV's trying to find one that works so I could watch the premiere sitcom of "That's me Bush". A parody of the sitting president. Anyway, I struggled and didn't manage to see the half-hour show. That is how far gone I am comparatively—I fight losing battles to watch TV while others fight them to stop.
--
Breach of Happiness. Brooklyn. I can picture it so clearly. It is like yesterday in my mind, but forever ago in my reality sphere. This is not Brooklyn, I don't know what this place is, and would rather just leave it behind than incur further damage.
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Honestly, the quirks of life excite me in an unrest of epic proportions. I ran into Steve's ex- the other day. I sort of fell for her, sad? Quirky. Yay. It affords me the chance to see a different light and experience a new love. I'll stay away from it for now. I am unfocused. Sad.
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Life is this totally weird portrayal of actions. Without beginning or end, without judgment, betrayal or greed. Life is the scaletipper, the truth, the the. We are life. And, in this being, we obviously are……clouded. I am at least—worried, pained, shadowed away from well. Why? Outside I exude a sense of control like—perfection, a confidence that truly allows me to be me. To be well. So, why, on the inside, do I remove myself from the wellness and make it badness (that is a judgment, it is really just a not-so-fresh feeling). I have not idea one of relieving this state, this overall condition of lopsidedness. I am sure
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June 1 2001
I have been keeping an online journal at xanga.com for quite sometime. Because of that, I stopped "writing" (I was typing). But, now, I am in Chicago living with my brother and Jeb and there isn't a computer readily available.
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I always think that there is something greater than me, that I should fear something. I am slowly learning not too, because I am the all powerful all guiding force in my life.
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Oct. 2 2001
Lets just get a few things straight real quick:
My name is Brian Bailitz. I am twenty-one years old
I am currently living in Griffith IN, working for my Dad, Albert the Chimney Sweep (I am a certified sweep)
I believe in peace, not war; love, not hate; and I only have a *few* friends that agree with me
I only have a few friends
Steve Rousseau
Tiffany Knight
Diane Curtis
Matt York
friends are hard to come by and keep
I am lonely; I want a girlfriend that will be awesome
I have lived and been many places and still haven't found myself
So I guess because I don't have many friends and defiantly not a girlfriend I write to keep company, to feel alive…maybe even just to feel. I don't know what is wrong with me, I hold honestly highly and don't hold much back. I figured that if I were honest to me and those close to me life would be great. But, so many people wrap their lives in lies and mask truth for niceties I am finding that the same thing I thought would bring people closer is making them run. I feel that I am doing right, but doing so is making everyone say I am wrong and mass opinion makes singular truth hard to stick too—especially when they are in opposition. In the midst of all this uncertainty I remain happy. I am rarely not smiling, especially when in the company of others; because other people make me happy, they give me hope that I am not alone, and that there is a girl out there for me.
Oct. 7 2001
I didn't just read what I last wrote, but a lot of it has changed. I am sitting here listening to my bootleg practice version of "Let the Sun Shine Down" by Quarterturn. I am thinking of Abby!!! And, I have to write that I rally like this girl, I feel so much better knowing, just knowing, that there is a girl out there that just likes me for me. I am totally enamored around her. Sometimes I wish that no one else were ever around the two of us so I could just ask her the questions this song asks, so I could know her a whole lot better…and I am not talking sex, I am talking about really knowing her. Matt says that I should've learned about my forwardness with girls from Andrea, but I think that if I cant be myself from the start, then it is a lie. So I am going to call Steve tomorrow and have him put it all into perspective, then call Abby and tell her how I feel. Next time I write I will definitely explain what I know about Abby, and why I am so taken by her. Peace.Love.
Oct. 13 2001
I thought I felt like writing some commentary, but I don't.
Oct. 21 2001
Life is a fucking enigma and repression is a drug. It is the one thing that leads to hate and sadness…longing. Life. Love. Vision. But, we can just repress it all and lead life as planned, we can be machines. I haven't been myself lately, I have lied to myself saying that everyone understands who I am and why I am. No one does, I have realized. People paint this picture in their heads about a person and that is who they are. I have become a victim to labeling—I have a title and everything—it kills me, everyday, living a fucking lie. And for some reason tonight I felt this force to finally explain to someone. I still have it in me, and I miss that person. I miss people that know who I am and I don't need to explain. I gave up on life somewhere and it may be too far for me to get back on track. It is conscious too! I watched myself falling and hated it, and I didn't even attempt to climb back up—Alexandria would say the only way to go now is up, but my eyes are pointed downward and I think about how much I hate gravity. Grim reality is that I am longing for something that requires effort that I don't have to spend. It is like having five dollars and wanting two things, I cant spread to buy both because I don't have it so I have to choose. I think I chose wrong. It seems that I am wrong now and can only see right behind foreboding walls. I can keep going down hoping that once I reach the end purgatory is there, but that is an awful lot of hope and I'd much rather just stare at right in front of me that is totally in focus, just out of reach…
Oct. 22 2001
Last night was a bit dramatic, and I feel I am slowly finding my feet and path once more. A HUGE part of it is writing in these journals and getting this stuff in my head, out. Much of last night was pent up frustration I had with myself, because I suddenly realized or remembered why it was that I came back here…to write what was in my head. Because California filled me with so much I didn't have time to register it all. But I feel much better now, I feel totally alive inside while I let my outside deteriorate horribly. But I am working on myself in so many ways now. I thought today about, well, I guess advertising, the death of Aris Hedon in every paper in America. Basically letting everyone know that !I! have realized me and I am Brian, not Aris, and Brian can do it. In the obit it would say that Aris is survived by Brian Bailitz and PAAEP.ORG, but then something would actually have to be there. I bet if I did that Aris's poetry would sell hundreds of copies. HAH!!! Oh, it feels so good to get all of this off of myself and be myself, not my brother or my father, but the person they helped create and exploded one hundred times to be real. Joy.
Oct. 25 2001
Recorded a QT practice session last night. It got shut down early and most of the recording sucked, but I got a usable recording of "So Far Away" woo-hoo! Things with Abby are going better, I guess. We have sort of leveled off at the friend stage, but I still want more. I think she does too, but I don't know, so I will observe awhile longer and then pursue my goal of getting a girlfriend again. I guess that most of it is that I want that certain level of affection, I like holding hands and snuggling, and kissing girls and I really want to be in the situation that will create that as reality. She said to me the other day that I don't seem the type to just walk up to people and make friends, I said that I was and I don't think that is a lie; because, although I don't, I can. And in right situations, I will…I met her, didn't I? So I think I will sit on what’s happening now for about another week and then say "Hey, you know, I want more, and if you don't, then I will just continue…but I hope we can still be friends." HaHa. Pretty soon I think that, in my life, as a whole, some kind of great realization or understanding will come to be. And that will be great, because I have been waiting awhile for something like that, something mind bending showing me a new path, opening a new hope, renewing desire and all that jazz. Yeah. Yeah.
Oct. 28 2001
I entitled this part of the journal "Anywhere, Kid", but I think that was a passing thing; because I didn't go anywhere or do everything. Different things should change people and I haven't changed so, although I have gone places, I haven't been anywhere. Furthermore, I don't know where I am, nor where I am going.
Nov. 6 2001
I have had this weird obsession with records lately. Because of that, I have no money. I can see/feel a certain correlation with me and the times. I think it stated when I was sixteen and I started growing my hair long, it was my personal 1960's. It was all free, and there, drugs, travel, freedom. And I nursed that part of me until recently. I can see that decade so clearly in my personal timeline…and right now it is probably like 1972/73. I have realized that Jim is dead and that time I felt so free is truly fading. I am totally unsure of the future because I was totally blindsided by the end of that time and I want it back; but everyday it becomes harder and harder. Last night I thought about just moving to Bisbee and seeing what happens. I want to do that, but I have the chimney business and the band and blah blah blah. Maybe I'll go after I tour with the band, but maybe that'll be too late.
Nov. 10 2001
So often do I laugh at myself and think of the possibilities. I could die right now and still live more than a few people I know. And I laugh because I am not dying. Right now, nor anytime soon. That laugh symbolizes how easy life is for me…because I don't scoff those people that will live to be 110 but never live as much as I had at 21. I cry for these people, mentally. And I think of ways to make life better for them. But, in my way of being, the solutions I come up with usually do more mocking than helping, making people not enjoy my company and that doesn't really bother me, it just sucks that I can identify (lock and load) but don't care to change. Stubborn people like me. Oh, and I feel like a 16 year old girl in 1974 right now…whatever that means.
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Desire I can sit here and lean my head back, shake it so my long hair soothes my back; and in that moment my desire comes to life. It is not to be rich or famous or even recognized; rather, my desire is to live my life and make all things in and around arouse in me the same satisfaction as when I lean my head back. When I do that, I can see clearly, I can focus. My desire is to understand and focus my life so my eyes can see as clearly as my mind. My mind creates these thoughts of total beauty, more than thoughts, actual images. I see myself concentrating these thoughts and images, and developing them into reality. In doesn't even seem difficult; in my mind. I can see myself in a field of crops that feed my family and friends, I see all of us working together to harvest our crops—of food and ideas. It is a commune of shared land with beautiful people, loving themselves, each other, the world around us, and everything else. I see this not as a basis for immediate change, but a logical blueprint for the future, taken from the past. There is no hate, no envy, no greed, because everyone gets what they need. We all work together to attain a common goal. W gather our community and write the things we learn for future generations, so they have a legitimate guide based on people. It would be a way out for those who see the dangers of modern society and the negative effect it is having on the future. I desire peace and equality and autonomy for everyone, and in my mind I bestow the images I can so clearly see to everyone in the world. And my hope is that someday this desire will be fulfilled and this juggernaut of future peril can be halted and perhaps reversed, so that we can all live together as a peaceful community.
Feb. 6 2002
Reminiscing is bad for me. I feel like such an ass for mistakes made in the past and I wonder if it would be better to let everything rest or resurrect so I have the chance to forgive. I want to chance to forgive so badly but truly feel that forgetting would be best.