Trials and Updates Part Two: Portland
Cover of book has some writing on it that says things like: You'll never let me down, I'll know by the direction of the wind. When you come, we will win; The possibility of Forever is Now; Everything is positive, in a circle; Life is circular; There is nothing like now; Portland: Trials and Updates Part Two. And now we'll just jump right into it.
1/1413/03
What a sad, sad day. Today was, basically, my last day of work for the foreseeable future. I was hoping to be laid off, but there is no such luck. I had one job today and for the rest of this week and all of next week, there is no schedule. I am kind of looking...I need to look much harder than I am if I am expecting to find something. It is funny though, because I have no desire to look. I don’t have much desire right now. I finished reading "Conversations With Eternity" today, and I am debating picking up "Les Mis" right now. For the last five hours I have basically done nothing. Well, besides finishing the book. I have been debating whether or not I should invoke hypnosis to get me through this. By that, I mean I am considering watching TV or a movie. It probably wont go that far. I have put the clamp down on myself today, I am not, I am going to try try try not to spend any money before Friday. Today is Monday. Technically, it is only a little over a few days, but I am betting it will seem like forever. I have zero dollars on me and if I leave, I leave the checkbook at home. There is enough food in this house to feed all of us for a week, I just need to figure out new ways to manipulate these grains to my benefit. I don’t really want to go anywhere, outside of me (and inside, but I am winning that battle on most fronts) is a world of temptation, and that is why I shut myself away. Steve and Justin both ask me to do things, but my words fall the wrong way on their ears, they don’t (for some unknown reason) realize that I have absolutely nothing right now, and because of that I am going to just stay and think about it. See, that is the odd thing, because I could go to a bar with free pool or darts and do that, without drinking and socially interact. I think social interaction in the face of this kind of emptiness (desperation) isn’t very good for me...or maybe it is. If I look at it from the standpoint of having nothing also means having nothing to lose and everything to gain. Hmmm..., but whatever. Right now I feel that it would be more beneficial for myself to stay here and read until tomorrow when I should shake my ass out the door and find a part-time job. I have continued to read, well into the night, making it 100 pages into this 1500 page epic. I hope to make it that far in each of 15 days to be done with it. I had talked with Justin a bit too, when he came home. I was doing sit-ups when he arrived, and I hastily removed myself from the floor, looking back on it I don’t know why exactly. I am secretive with what I do and why I do it, it is mostly that if no-one knows, then no-one can support or denounce and all my splendour or folly could be mine to do with as I please. Anyway, I talked with him of how long he planned to stay in Portland, and more importantly, how long he expected to stay a part of this house. I divulged my aspirations. I also kind of made the point to fast for a few days, until Friday as a matter of fact. I have no real reason for this fast, but it would be an admirable show of will. So that is what I am going for. To spend the next few days as so: reading, fasting, and looking for work. What an amazing way to look at the week! Honestly, there is nothing taking away from me, and for that I am happy. While reading I really wanted to start a correspondence with Becky, not my sister, but my old lover. Lover is a word I've not used to describe her, but it does well. I don’t even know her last name, no address, no phone number. I was going to write a letter and send it in care of Matt York, who I am told sees a decent amount of her. I feel very positive with the steps my letters are taking with their recipients, I am looking forward to a letter from Mary in the very least. That is my immediate hope, that she respond, because I am quite interested...the thread I opened with her is pretty deep. Maybe tomorrow I will feel more inclined to put forth letter writing efforts. I have currently ten stamps left and I would feel better if I had none at the months end. I have been fondly remembering Santa Barbara as well, that was the last time I found myself basically out of work and relying on the daily comfort of the library, and the last time I read Les Mis, this will be my third reading. Life is such an unavoidable mess, especially when looked at in a personal manner. Like, my self-evaluation comes up totally neutral, I--the one that should have the most clarity on my future--haven't the slightest idea what I am doing. And I don’t think that this is phenomena, I think the mass repression of this weariness and uncertainty is the phenomena. No real change will come from masking reality and working through a veil. No, to honestly effect true lasting change a person must recognize life without masks, without drugs, stand alone and look at life and dictate something like this: I accept the uncertainty of life, I will no longer accept hiding from the truth, from this point forth I will take my life and use it to weaken the grips of the veil and take on life naked...at face-value. That isn’t exactly what should be said, I am just winging it, but something like that; something that identifies the weaknesses, pushes them aside and walks a path in the light of acceptance. Since I have just named this part of the journal, I hope something comes in the pages to follow.
1/1514/03
What an unexpected day. I woke up around 8:a.m. got on with my day, reading the newspaper. At 8:16 a.m. I got a call on my celly, turns out they scheduled quite a day for me. That was wonderful, with this day I think I'll put my funds to the top...meaning that I'll be able to cover all bills that I should owe for February. I didn’t get home until five p.m., wow. And, I started fasting last night, but today I figured out why. Lately I have been eating alot, to the point of excess and if I am going to attempt to regress, this is the best way. I would like to go until Friday as I had previously planned, right now I work a little every day, so I am not positive I'll make it, but I'll do my best. In the mail today I got a bank statement. It appears I deposited nearly $2200 in the month of December, and spent nearly $2400. That all includes the apartment stuff, so it isn’t entirely surprising, but it is amazing. Because I am fasting, I am in a deep sense of thought, that thought doesn’t transcend to paper well so I am not going to attempt it right now. Instead, I am going to get my fasting tea and read some of Les Mis...I have a hundred pages to read! Notice the changed dates. Amazing, I have been a day off for the last two days. It is amazing to me that I can just forget about that social programming of times and dates. I got a five dollar tip today, and I thought the guy had his wife write out the check because it said the 14th, it turns out I was the one off, and that is pretty cool.
1/15
I guess that all dreams are odd, and last night was a memorable one. It started, from my point of memory with Steve and I in a thrift store, we were in the Toy Department, looking at the G.I. Joe figures. There were two in particular, I had never heard of them. They were in plastic cases, in pristine condition, for $9 each. There was a note that said these two figures were very rare and worth $500 together. I didn’t have $18 on me to buy them, so I conferred with Steve, put them in my pocket, and walked out of the store. We got on our bikes and rode away. We were in the street riding when my front tire started to bulge and then popped. I am having these current troubles with my bike, in real-life. I don’t know where it went form there. I was very thirsty, I got up and had some water. I stayed true to my fast for better than 36 hours, as I had two pieces of toast this morning with a light hummus spread. I will continue, however, as if I were still in the midst of the fast. Pushing through the rest of today and tomorrow and be rewarded on Friday morning. How true all of this will turn out to be, I am unsure. I am going to say here that it is clear why I don’t readily entrust my thoughts to others. This morning, it was I that broke a fast, and it was I who wrote of continuing it, had I related that somewhere outside of my personal, I would be a liar. Yes, this after I again broke the fast...and I am not going to write that I still intend to go until Friday, as for some internal reasons (or maybe external, temptation) I cannot fast for long periods of time. The longest was what? fifty hours? Please. And this one, 36? C'mon. But, alas I know I am being hard on myself, the and I would be this hard on everyone if it didn’t piss so many people off. That is why I didn’t say to Steve this morning about the breaking or the mending, if he asks to-nite, he will hear of the breaking. So, to quote an old timer, there is "a method to my madness." And that that I just translated is a big thing to understand...and everything ties into the big picture of no regrets. I even went out to the bar with Justin to-nite. Amazing. There was girl there that was, well, to describe her as Justin did: "HOT", "FLAWLESS". This girl was about 5'5", thin, tan, with perky breasts, a thin shirt, no bra, tight pants, etc. She is what I would describe as a "hussy". She did look very good, but what is she covering up with her makeup? What is she directing attention away from wearing no bra and having "extremely bright headlights"? Those are the questions that come across me when I witness something like that. Oh, how great it is to be simple. It really is like paradise. So many people seem to think that paradise is something that you need money to find, you cannot buy paradise, something so perfect cannot be attained using something as imperfect as money. True, paradise is found easier when you have less. Because, the less you have, the less room you will take up in paradise...being that so many are trying to get in, less equals a much greater chance of acceptance. I firmly believe this. The argument could be brought about people with nothing that are withering in unhappiness, and this is true. Certain things are It also depends on frame of mind, I have very little, but I also have the world...thus I am in paradise. A homeless person has next to nothing and that is it, they (some of they, yes, the unhappy ones) don’t see the world as a giving force that gives itself to them to have, their thoughts are mired from the onslaught (by the media) of how life could be...even should be. I would say that they live in a false hope, employing longshots and delusions as a viable means to paradise; kind of like that girl at the bar. She who must hide her face with makeup, and direct attention to certain physical attributes, she is also living in this false hope. Have we not heard of the morning after? And if something should come along, accepting her for her fakeness, nothing would be better (alas worse!) than her showing her true self and being rejected. Start from the beginning (truth) and follow through accordingly.
1/16
I wonder what force it is that when a person desperate things look so much better. And this isn’t supposed to inter-relate with yesterday. I am talking about my job, in my desperation, I conceded to them...they have won and it seems okay right now, things actually look on the up and up. This is what I call "desperation force" and it would be simply defined: the breaking point, where desperation ideals give way to desperation (alternate: this is usually accompanied by relief and a state of euphoria.) towards I like making up word associations like that and defining them. I should do that more often...it would be like me creating my own world. Kind of like what Phaedrus was attempting for Lila, he wanted her to accept her insanity and live with it. Kind of like what I tried in NY with Tiffany so long ago...kind of like what I accomplished for myself moving to Indiana. Successfully live within society and within your insanity, continue to be who you are and give that to others in such a way as to not reveal (totally) your true nature. It seems kind of vindictive. But, in the long run, I think it is beneficial for everyone. I continue to be myself, and interact, yet within in a minute I can withdrawal from it (society) back into myself and not worry about it. This all needs much more thought, but it is a workable rough outline for growth within insanity of self and sanity of society. What was that I was saying? Nevermind, anyway. It is an odd occurrence, that I notice of myself often, that of talking to myself. I see that many of my questions are answered when I ask myself in a mirror, my doubts are alleviated, my self takes care of itself. I like to wonder, and know, how this translates into the rest of society, like talking to oneself isn’t odd, I think most people engage in it; however, I cannot imagine how many of those people take it to the extent of self-reliance. I rely on myself, these journals are alleyways into my psyche documenting and diagnosing my doubts, my feeble and strong moments, I write of becoming a whole person when the reality of the situation is that I am already whole, and have been for sometime probably. It is the world that is missing a few nuts and bolts, a few necessary parts to become whole...my so-called faults are really just how much better my self-dealings are compared to society. Take a school within the public school system that is doing very well, 96% of the students passing. If you compare that against the average of 74% you see the difference...but taken as "public schools have a passing percentage of 74", that says the whole system is at flaw. When, in reality, some factions of that system, taken independently, are excelling. That is how I see myself in relation to society, and that analogy has real-time relevance because the Portland Public School System is somewhat in jeopardy right now. As is the whole of society where I see myself as a beacon of hope...but, this all rails with that personal insanity thing I was thinking of earlier. I did something that I had been wanting to do for quite sometime. I wrote the letter to Rob. It is a description of Portland (obviously), with the feeble hope of some action from him, some drawing or painting of PDX from my description. I have spent my first frivolous dollar this week (well, not really as I had the beer last night) on a cup of coffee at Stumptown that produces good writing, but unconducive to reading...which is what I would like to engage in right now, so I will take my leave. As I do sometimes, I am looking back in time. I am reading words from Nov. 17th 2002. The words: "I don’t always, sometimes not ever I don’t ever, understand what others do in relation to me." That line, I want to digest it, tear it down and extrapolate. To me it is understandable, I am saying: the way I conduct myself is most usually contradictory to mass society (like what I was talking about earlier) and I can only imagine how an outsider would look at me. I feel most comfortable when I am alone, but I can not only survive in society, but if I choose, I can be an upright citizen. I have the power of choice, like everyone, but I recognize and utilize. I am not talking choice like Gore or Bush, BK or McD; I am talking choice like my life or the life someone else (anyone that would attempt to steer you) attempts to put on me. I say "NO". I say it loudly, my life is mine and everything I do I will account for...I can survive completely alone, sometimes I think I'd be better off that way. So, sometimes when I am immersed in society, when I have every opportunity to expand my borders, I recoil. Instead of dealing with inter-nation relations, I am taking care of domestic problems. That is noble. So many people (in a figurative and literal sense) are attempting to cultivate the moon before they've finished themselves. They'll lose. Or at least not do well. I know how I am conducting myself...I am doing it for a reason. Once I am done, and focusing on it now gives me hope that I'll be done at a point in time where I can do more than just write a book, my person will be a force to reckon with. My completeness attempting the moon against half a person doing the same. These analogies are weak, I know. I hear from people how they've never met anyone like me, and that is fuel, because in my dynacism I am still changing. I am very round right now, in terms of experience, and my ball is further being filled. Another weak analogy. I kinda would like to see people I know take a survey of people that know me in relation to how I affected them and then, in turn, I'd like to see the results. Especially if they were true, and I think they'd be. Maybe I'll do that, make a generic test for a number of people that know me and weigh the results. This pomposity! Amazing. So, Justin came home and we had some discussion about, well, national and Portland issues. (The war, the protest of the war this weekend, affirmative action, Portland Public Schools, etc.) He is sooo moderate, such a fence rester, it is hard to talk to him. Like, he doesn’t really have a strong opinion, for or against, anything outside of marijuana legalization...which is something we agree on for different reasons. Anyway. After I noticed that I was talking to quicksand, I stepped off, went back to reading. Read fifty pages (while listening to the same song over and over again) and then stopped. My sparse room was a mess...so, I re-arranged. That is something I love to do, rearrange things. It is much better now, the window ledge was piling over with stuff that could be just hidden away, and the closet was totally awry. Here is what it appears as:
open space...and I'll most likely leave it open, but I wouldn’t mind to have a nice reading chair. This would look like a study with the bed closed, and that is kind of what I shoot for, the multi-purpose room. And, that is what I succeed in.
1/17
What a wonderful morning. It is a bit chilly, sunny and amazing. I don’t have to work today until 2:3p and that is kind of good, I get to take advantage of the day, somewhat, but I cannot fall deeply into anything lest I be roused at 1:p to go check out that beast of work. I woke up at 7:3a and listened to KBOO until 9:a. I like KBOO, they were talking of this weekends demonstration, the line was busy, but I wanted to call to say this piece: News! There is a special assembly of Critical Mass, meeting at 11:3a on Sat. Jan. 18th at NW Park and Couch. There is no better way to show your vote against this imperialistic war for oil than to subvert the oil machine altogether and ride a bicycle, especially to the protest and as often as possible. It would go something like that. And after that I came here, to the Paradox for the first, maybe second time since Diane left. I know this is only like the third or fourth time this year...which is a vast improvement. Anyway, so the Doors, the musical group (minus Jim Morrison, plus some new singer whose name escapes me and that annoys me) were on TV last night, a regular and one of the waitressi were talking about it and I boldly interjected and was accepted into the conversation. What a stunning move! It wasn’t anything I'd expected myself to do...but it worked out well. And, I think that because of it I was rewarded with a free serving of real maple syrup to go with my pancakes. I feel very positive about this development, but I am still very poor in my "passing conversation" skills. I want to have something a little bit more solid, if I am interested in a person or what a person is saying, I devote something like full attention. That is the way I do it, I'd also like to be confronted with a situation where a person devotes time to what I say. True, I do not say much and I think that when I do it is all that much more meaningful or whatever. Justin rambles, I interject, slowly and evenly, precise comments to knock him off his fence...but, he just talks right through those interjections, unphased by my words he continues his PROGRAM. And that is what it is, media is a program that is designed to sit on a fence (to gar gain mass appeal for being "diverse") and at crunch time they will sway in the "right" direction, that being the direction of the media conglomerate. And anyone within the machine, if they should give off any inkling of support either way, they are released. In the business of feeding people what to think and believe, kickers must be saved until the end. The rate "news" is fed is like a movie and we must all wait for the climax to jump to either side of the fence. Still, I am not properly using these analogies, but that is not a big deal. Today was the first time Steve and I bumped into each other at work. On the West Slope for all that! But that’s not really important. I ran into him at the Beaverton New Seasons, he was lunching and I was diagnosing an upset stomach with black licorice. And I want to delve into the dichotomy of knowledge, there are really two types: "spitting knowledge", and "useful knowledge". An example of spitting knowledge is this, "You can walk a cow upstairs but not down." That is an interesting fact, and a question I ask people when (in the form of: Do you know why they kill cows upstairs?) when I am in some kind of animal rights debate or whatever, it isn’t any kind of knowledge that is useful for you mind body or soul, only phalanges of these. Useful knowledge is that licorice settle an upset stomach, I was in pain from what my stomach was doing to me and I knew New Seasons had bulk licorice so I stopped, saw Steve and fixed my ailment. That’s that. On my way home I stopped at Peoples and bought a few things, but not what I wanted. When I got home I showered and went to the Daily Grind, for bread tofu and tofu scrambler. While there, I ran into someone I met a long time ago at the Red and Black and saw a week or so ago at the library and just tonight we both having been there we got into another conversation on different subjects, other people joined in, it was nice. This was in the middle of my shopping, after the other person was done, we all went back to shopping. She said "I see you around, we'll talk more, I’d like that." Then, we were all at checkout together, she and I talked more about tomorrow and the cashier got in on it, and while the cashier and I were conversing, she took the time to do this:
(scrap of paper with her phone number)
she handed it to me and said we should talk more, to give her a call at least for this months Critical Mass, but she also insisted that we'd probably bump into each other tomorrow. This is the first number of a Portland I have acquired. I was radiant, we can be good friends, she is really nice. And I will probably call her for Januarys Critical Mass, which is only in two weeks, and I can foresee that if I call her she will ask that we go somewhere out, together...to talk. That would be 100% weird, amazing, new! We have lots of things to talk about, so that is good, and she seems the type of person that I would like to talk too. We'll see...wont we?
1/18
Well, it was a day, a good day. I got up at 7:3a and read the paper and part (50 pgs) of Les Mis. At nine I got Steve up and we made breakfast. Biscuits, miso/mushroom gravy, tofu scramble, curry potatoes and tempeh, and toast. It was quite a noble breakfast. At the finish I did all the dishes, we mounted our metal steeds and headed west. Around 11:15a we got to NW Park and Couch, that was where the feeder (radical) march and Critical Mass were meeting. We were two of the first five people there. We talked to quite a few people that had gathered there, it was a good time. The feeder march pushed off with all the bikes, for awhile I thought there wasn’t going to be a Critical Mass, but halfway through the march we were confronted with all the bikers that were filtering out of the march to start CM. We started with about 15-20 bikes, at the peak (we rode for a good two hours, I think) there were maybe sixty bikes. But, that didn’t last very long, most of the time we were around twenty. Steve and I were quite vocal, corking most of the streets. There was no police action against CM, that was nice. When the mass dwindled to about eight, we broke off and joined the march, and that was all good. We tried to get in around the "No War Drum Corps" and we did an alright job. When they stopped, I stopped and listened, as they are amazing. One of the drummer girls had eyes with me and this was a recurring thing for the rest of the march...and I am really, really an idiot. She smiled, I smiled, I looked, she looked, she is part of the Nowardrumcorps! Anyway, more on that later. Then we started marching again. Initial reports say 15,000 people were there, the first wave of the main march made it back to the rallying point before the last wave started marching. When we got back to the rallying point we just sat there for awhile, just across from the Drum Corps, and when they took a break the girl looked at me, mouthed "hi", and I said "hi" back...from fifteen feet away. Sadly, my impotence got me no closer. Steve and I were engaged in conversation with some people we see around when they left (they being the Drum Corps) and that was the last time I saw her. After awhile I found the Drum Corps, but she was no longer with them, I've slapped myself quite a bit since then, and will probably continue for a little while until something comes of it. I can see my fear, this impotence, but I don’t understand it. I probably will have to get over it before I understand it. Which means that before understanding comes action? That is a deep line to divulge and dissect right now...and it is late. So, after my squander, we started to leave, I did one last lap around the park blocks, looking for her, Steve was talking to some friends form Santa Barbara, then Steve and I left...we went East! He went to the Haven, I came home. It was around 4:p for sake of timeline. Justin was here, I ate, he watched TV. When news of the march came on he called me into the living room (I has holed up in my room contemplating a "chance meeting" for the WW, or an "I Saw U" for the Mercury, and all for the little drummer girl) I saw the 45 second news coverage. Justin said "I'm gonna go next time", and I didn’t get into it about maybe there isn’t a next time, whatever. When I see that lack of desire, next time, next time, it kind of disgusts me, even as I am a part of it in my loss of action, I am disgusted with myself, but I don’t say next time, I say: What the fuck kept me from this time? Fix that and I wont have to say next time, it will be automatically everytime once I figure out what is holding me back. And that can be the same for everyone, learn, and then have no regrets. Well, then Steve got back, I went to read and I was falling asleep by 7:p. So, I succumbed to slumber. Steve woke me up to see if I wanted to go to the show at the Blackbird. That was a no. I could see myself being tired and leaving by the second band and therefore decided against going and spending $8 for that. Steve came back and said that I missed out...I wanted to relate that I never miss out, I do my best to get the most out of everything I engage in. I do not look at it as I missed out, because every moment of life I would be "missing out" then, and that, I don’t think, is a very productive outlook on life. And, as for now, I am going to retire.
1/19
Hilarious. Seriously. I posted a story at Portland.Indymedia.org today. It was a heartfelt account of a boy seeing a girl in a crowd, yet being unable to speak, his only recourse was that of which we have already translated. That done, I also made some film into actual pictures. The following page will be an actual account of how I appeared this very morning. I had Steve take this photo, it doesn’t do my hair justice, as the principle reason I was having it taken was my hair at the time. But, yeah, here I am. There isn’t much more to me, I am small and happy, and at the same time, all black. It will also be noted that I am standing in the corner where all my belongings are. If you check back to the diagram, things will be
better understood. Steve made breakfast this morning, pancakes. They were good...even if I didn’t eat them until noon. I was awake and doing things at 7:3a. I had a very long dream last night that woke me up at least once and I fell back asleep, I likewise fell back into the dream. It was centered around my teeth. In the beginning, one of my molars fell out and not knowing what it was I dissolved it in my mouth and basically ate it. By the time I figured out it was a tooth of mine, the rest were able to be moved with my tongue. I didn’t like it. I wasn’t in pain though, the biggest thing was my front bottom tooth was now a little brown point and I was totally disgusted by it. In my waking moments my head was filled with my shortcomings of yesterday. Deeply I thought about how I would contact her (indymedia), then what I would say (I posted it on Xanga), and the rest of the thoughts were reactions...hypothetical, of course. I am very enraptured with girls right now, it could be an early spring, a hangover from the past fall even, I don’t know...I do know that I am spending way too much thought on it, something like that should be natural, but I am all fumbles, so we'll see. So far, there have been two comments on my post...neither of which have been the girl. Steve moved into my room tonight. We have been talking, but now I am going to bed while he stays up. We'll see what becomes of our living together again. The room is much tighter with his stuff in here, but in all its tightness there is still plenty of room for other things. It should work out well, and with this we'll be able to bring in a fourth hopefully before the end of the month. That would be amazing. So, anyway, the evening started with Steve and I reading journal passages to each other and the escalation has already been noted. He read alot on the previous journal which is still quite fresh, I felt the need (for awhile) to stand over him and near while he was reading, but I got over it. Fuck it. (Indymedia post taped in here reads: this is like the "chance meeting" from the mercury...it may not be the best forum, but I hope it works. January 18th, 2003. It is reported that 15000+ demonstrated against the upcoming war in Iraq. Included in the demonstration was a Critical Mass ride, a feeder (radical) march, and to the delight of many the "No War Drum Corps". I had the delight of watching them when we stopped during the march at an intersection that I can no longer recall. I stood behind the actual march and watched the drummers, one in particular was the drummer girl with the beanie cap and a little tuft of blue hair sticking out. We had eyes. I didn’t capitalize on my chance to talk to her. This is my recourse. Anyway, to soothe anyone that reads this, I followed until the march ended and upon kicking myself repeatedly I went to where they were drumming (and this was even after we mouthed "hi" to each other from a distance" have words instead of just eyes. I was dismayed to find her not there. I waited and circle don my bicycle and eventually I left. I wasn’t happy with myself. I deemed to go home and submit something with the Mercury for the chance meetings...that can take up to three weeks. So, I decided that this would be a fine alternative. I have laid myself out here in the hope that it will reach her and maybe she will email me and we will talk and see where things go from there. In any event, I feel better that I am doing this, following up on this missed chances, and if nothing comes of it it will be because I hesitated when I should’ve acted. This is something I am working on. Okay, this is a little bit deep for public forum, I hope everyone is touched by this, or at least amused and will take some course of action with the chances that they missed. Yeah. Peace.Love.)
1/20
What an exciting morning! There is still no reply from girl on Indymedia...but, I have things to do n Thursday! So, as custom, I was listening to KBOO this morning, and every morning is folk music. They have been giving away tickets for a concert that I've really wanted to see, and this morning I won a pair. The concert is Arlo Guthrie, the question I had to answer was who wrote the song he was singing. The song was "I A'int Marching Anymore" the lyricist was none other than Phil Ochs and I now have two guest spots for Thursday at the Roseland Theatre! I am quite excited about it, and hopefully there is a person I can go with. Steve and Justin will both be working, and I know no other people. So, if drummer girl contacts me that will be my plan, to take her to the show. If not, I will see what happens in the next few days...but will most likely go it alone. Alas, it is Arlo Guthrie. Maybe I'll meet a nice grandmother or something. Hah. I was continuing to read Les Mis today around page 584 Hugo goes into the differences of the cloister and the galley, by way of reverie through Jean ValJean. It set me on the course of thinking between the things I have done past and how that all culminates to now. I was actually standing in the mirror, looking at my beard, my hair, the changes. I am balding. I have facial hair, I can no longer be a child. Justin asked me a few days ago what I would do if I ran into myself as a child...I told him that I wouldn’t recognize that child, and therefore nothing out of the ordinary would be done. I thought about my father looking in the mirror, wondering how life is there...trying to understand what life without me is like. I am his child, he was emotional toward my leaving, does it affect him daily? It affects me randomly, but not very often...every three months or so. Today, I was affected, I think some of it has to do with the Tiffany letter, and some conversation Steve and I engaged in. I can no longer recoil to childish things, I feel as if I am at a turning point, no turning back. I've before granted myself a reprieve from progress, I can no longer afford that if it truly is my intention to move forward. Maybe I'll only ever "push the envelope", never go all the way, or whatever. I am taking into account my life, looking at it in a light that shines brighter on the things I should keep...dimmer and dimmer on that which I should drop. I think I would do well to forget about everything that came in my life before New York. And by forget I don’t just mean not think about that life, but I mean strike it away, new batter. This would include people like Kelly, and Melissa (whom, honestly, I've really not thought about for awhile); things like high school and drugs. I don’t really have a great list, I'm not making sense. Sometimes these thoughts of the past enliven my thoughts about the future...and that is like me lying to myself. I don’t really want to do that, honestly. Basically I want to remember NY, I started writing, painting, being myself, creating, living without possession, largely without car, I made my second life-long friend in Tiffany, I learned so much about life, myself, and my relationship to life...I almost forgot Rob, him too, he is another person who is a great influence and if I am in need of inspiration, he can help. Then, at the re-emerge Steve to enliven (for real) anti-oppression in veganism and action, he turned into that being for me. If I needed an activist kick in the ass, Steve’s foot lent itself. Then, Olympia. Imagine all of these things being given a person and then developed in isolation. That was solidification. Tiffany and Steve came to me, I went to Rob. All of the pillars are represented in Oly, as well as in NY. It is development, and I took it all in. I continued to develop creations and ideas, further them, drop them, live like life was solely mine, amazing. And, thinking I'd had it all in order, I played my cards, I thought I had life conquered and bared all. Obviously, I didn’t win. I think that had I won, I'd be dead. After that culmination, if life was truly bested by yours truly then this account wouldn’t exist. I can write how I've lost, but not how I'll win, that is dynamic, cannot be predicted or calculated. My loss was a new beginning, it was humiliating, and I lost most of the ground that I had gained (I still catch flak from a few certain individuals). Had I not the few inspirations I had, happiness would have been squeezed from that stone of loss, a consolation prize would be awarded and in a feigned state of happiness my days could be completed. Hell does exist on Earth. But, after an intense nod I was picked back up, and at just the right time too, for I was being drawn into a situation that was similar to the reasons leading up to my initial withdrawal (NY). That being said, I took myself aside, had a conference and deemed myself ready to try again. What better place to start than the place I took from in with the thought of victory (Olympia). Although I am not literally in that place, Portland is quite a similar scenario. I am here, regaining strength and conviction and when I leave here I shall be much better prepared for the honesty of life I will be diving into. Preparation is first on my mind, as my intention is not to resurface for some time. I think the last time I had talked to my mother I told her I'd not be coming back there until I was 26. Whatever may happen my plan is to go from here to somewhere else and not really make it too public. Right now, no one I know has my phone number, my email address changes enough to elude anyone, and only a handful of people know my new address and that only from the letters (besides my father). I am setting myself up well to drop out. I can forget, and perhaps I'll actually be able too. Well, that is what was on my mind in the mirror today. I also picked up "On Love" again...in light of my current position I thought it might be the right thing. I am lagging a bit in the reading 100 pages daily from Les Mis, but that’s okay...it is going faster now that we enter into the Marius section of the novel. Taking the task of both of these demanding books will probably further isolate me from Justin, but as Steve now lives again in my room, there shouldn’t be a noticeable rift. Perhaps in the next couple days I'll submit to an updated drawing (if it could be called that, how about: visual description) of the room.
1/21
What a morning, check your inbox, you’ve got mail...its from a little drummer girl named Haley. I'll print her email and my response and put it here. I liked her email, it said she likes my beard, that’s cool. I invited her to the Arlo Guthrie show, gave her my phone number and she should call me. That would be great. I am a little nervous, but that is quite okay, over it I will get. Imagine the amount of thinking I did in the few hours between this morning and this after. Amazing amounts. I likened my relationship history with a manual transmission vehicle. The hardest part is from neutral to first, the start, the set-up, etc. As with my relationships, getting it going is the hardest part, and after advancement into second and third, things become fluid and easy. It is from stop to go, not go to faster, where the problem lies. I am in full stop, even on a hill going the wrong side of the hill. I have to release the brake, apply the gas and ease the throttle all at the same time...it isn’t easy...but it gets easier as time progresses. The "get-to-know-you" is the rough stuff, imagine the walls that could be hit! But, for the most part, I am making way too much out of it right now, after the weekend I'll have a much better grasp of where the world stands. Life. Yeah. I've been just sitting here, in reverie. Reverie on the past present and future. Steve was going through some pictures today to send out to various girls. He asked if I wanted to look at some and I said something like "I don’t need to look into the past, it offers nothing". In here, I will extrapolate. The past, that beast which was is a great aide. Well, to look upon in times of comparison, reverie, unprecedance; not well in times of longing, insecurity, uneasiness, etc. Basically, the past should be a tool used only when necessary, a block to build upon. Too easily are minds sucked into what was, as they then try to emulate the past, or worse, look for it now. I am guilty of looking with longing, and everything, I have...but that is the past. I am attempting to align my present with the future, I will compare and contrast, but I do well to keep it to myself. My attempt is to not bring anyone down with me, once it was said that misery loves company and that may be so, but if I am going to be miserable, that is for me and none other. I'd be well to keep it so. So, if my time of weakness, or hope I don’t attempt to attract others. That was my problem, Steve asked me to join him in his memory and I said no. I'd not ask him to join me in my memory. That other thing that someone said so long ago: "Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you," I believe in and follow that. To the point that I wish people would treat me how I treat them. So, I am justified in what I said to him to an extent. The past should not be forgotten...but also it should be kept at a safe distance so as not to be confused with the present...or worse, the future. I will say that the past does offer something, the biggest is the comparison...which, be it remembered, is my main reason for these pages of writing. These are my tools for memory, and this pen and paper only remember what I want in the way that I want to remember it. This document is factual to me, just a well thought out story to anyone else, and that is as it should be. When Steve, the only other person to devote any time to reading these, reads, even if he is was there his memory will betray mine. Because events are fi at first filtered through the "eye of the beholder", they are dismissed as necessary, some remembered, some writ, and in writing they go through another filter, that of the hand. At least two filters, that are unique to the person, for any event. Words are even more filtered, what with personal understanding and definitions, that is: 1. the ear 2. the mind 3. the hand. For words there exists at least three filters. Exact replicas of a conversation or an event are only in existence when a neutral party takes shorthand, or machines are included to record. What I am driving toward is imperfection. Right! Imperfection is a staple of mankind. My participation in "mankind" is an admittance (conscious or un-) to imperfection. I am only better than another to the extent that they believe it. That was quite a rant earlier. True. It is nearing 9:3p and I've yet to have a further response. My hope is that she leaves a message. I can then call her, have a prior knowledge of her voice. Still, I am devoting too much of my time to this situation. What comes will, and that will be right. Already, I've been granted a second chance so now it is only mine to fuck up...again. That’ll be the direction I shy from. I want to do a quick update. That time when I said (or wrote) I'd wanted to create something out of jute or hemp everyday, well I haven’t touched that stuff with an inclination to create since that day. Those two poems I was to write and recite at open mic, well I wrote at least two poems, but I've not been to open mic since then. It seems to be a pattern that setting forth to endevour subtracts from effort. Like writing every day my consumption. Hah! That lasted only two or three days (if that). I guess my point is that general non-acknowledgement may be a better course of action for me...as compared to traditional goal-setting. That is just something to note...and for from here on out will not be acknowledged. Jog on back to Dec. 10th and 11th 2002. I saw some bands, talked about my hair, and a bass player. That bass player is also this girl that I talked to for an hour on the phone, Haley. Here is quick re-cap: she turns 23 tomorrow, she is from Conn., she lives on the N. side by the Broadway bridge, she is really into music, housemate are Jose, Dexter, someone else, two cats, one dog, she works two jobs, one as a nanny, one as a peer-to-peer counselor at Grant H.S., she is really into music, she has lived in Portland for nearly two years, she goes to school at PSU, she likes videogames at the Avalon, Jose is a vegan chef, she rides her bike to school, I feel positive about my future including her...but this is only after one hour, and a few chance meetings. Hah. Ah, seriously. I am quite giddy right now and before we talked, I was thinking about conversation in general...specifically about my past (recurring thought of the day) and how I relate it. When Jean ValJean went to the Bishop, the Bishop did not reveal he was a Bishop, just a kind person. That says: it doesn’t matter how you got to where you are, or what you are, if you are good life will it will be understood. I take it in and look at myself. I don’t need to jump to tell everything about myself to pump myself up. My actions speak for me, as the words I choose. It will come out where I have been, how I have become, suffice to say (and know) as long as I am I, then I'll be fine. And, I think our conversation went well...we'll talk again tomorrow, and a show on Wednesday Thursday. Life is good.
1/22
I didn’t work today, but I did acquire a shovel and a rake for to make the back yard. Today Justin bought a mini-entertainment center for the living room and an x-box nintendo system. That further drives my will to be elsewhere. It isn’t that I dislike Justin, not at all, but the means he makes himself happy interfere with the means I make myself happy. I'd rather live without a television or a computer, any type of nintendo system. Even in one room, and that aspect include all aspects of living. Or, something that would be acceptable is the first apartment I had in Chicago. While it did have the TV and VCR and the like, it was basically just one room. The bathroom was at the end of the hall, shared by everyone on the floor. That was a great place. For awhile now I'd been content, but right now it is all coming back, my desire to not be where I am. It is odd that it should come back today; no, rethink that, it isn’t odd. It is coming back on account of meeting new people. The "date" tomorrow is like a stone tied to my ankle...if all goes well, I'll have one root in the ground. But, is that really well? I don’t want to use Haley as a catalyst of my feelings, but the truth is that I'd mostly forgotten about roots until this happened. I was only half-joking when I said last night to Steve that maybe I shouldn’t call her back...that maybe things should not be drawn out. The thing is the future. Natural cellular movement is forward progress; my cells, by will of my mind, are taking me on the path of progress. Progress is meeting a girl, dating her, moving in together, happily ever after. It is NOT moving to a place that I could live outside to live outside, by myself. Any sane person knows these things. Sanity is overrated and false, moreover, I don’t prescribe it. Sanity is a veil pulled over society, it insists on clones and boring; in sanity, everything can be rationalized...it is only sane to commit the poor black man to prison on drug charges, and that same sanity allows G.W. to rape and pillage the third world, with and annual salary of 400000$. That is sanity, that is the RIGHT. Insanity, the wrong, would let that poor black man go and sentence Dubya to shackles. I don’t know, from where I stand that which is dubbed insane just seems a little more thought out and as an overall plan it'd be better. 'Cept it a'int planned Ma. I guess is the largest hang up that masses have, the "zero-plan". It is widely know of, government corruption, scandals, but it is ACCEPTED because although it isn’t the best, at least it has some sort of structure. Everyone doing as they please "why, by golly Jim, that is anarchy. and that just isn’t good for business." I talked to Haley on the phone. I am a horrible phone personality. Maybe I'll just start writing soliloquies for my phone conversations, read them and hang up. That'll happen, yeah. Hopefully I can turn tomorrow night into something special. Because sometimes myself is comparable to my phone-self...that extra hope is to turn everything to good. We are meeting up at the Roseland between 7:3p and 8:p. The show is at eight...I should be there around seven. I don’t know, and because of that lack of knowledge, I'll just forget about it until tomorrow. Stricken. I spend alot of time thinking, imagine. I really wanted to write a letter to Houck, but it would be a letter saying look and understand what others see in you, your potential and do something, please. It would definitely say please. He has much more than I do, but wields less than half as much. That is why I say please, please do not squander. I was thinking about how badly I would like to type up the last book of journal and do something with it. After reading through some of it, I see how amazing it is. There is so much truth in those two months. I counted at about fifty extra pages of material. That comes in the form of letter (to and from) a few receipts, pictures and drawing.
1/23
Preparation. That is the theme of the day. I bought a casserole pan last night, and subsequently, made a casserole. I really enjoyed it. Justin played a few hours of nintendo, and then spent time on the computer. I holed myself up in my room. Not like doing anything either. I listened to music, looked at myself in the mirror, thought, I might have read, but I am unsure. Eventually I unfurled my bed and succumbed to slumber. Today, again, I am not working. That doesn’t concern me as much as it should a sane person. Kyle should be moving in before the months end, thus making this rent upcoming less than previously assumed. That’s good. He is staying the night tonight...he'll meet Justin for the first time...perhaps we'll all meet Haley tonight, I know I will. Portland must be amazing for summer. Today is sun-shiny, and warm. There are many people out in the street, I feel like I used to at Benny's Burritos in NY, except that was once a week at most...this could be everyday. Could, meaning: if I let it. So many emotion, currents run through my mind and body, nothing seems thought out, everything seems spontaneous. That isn’t good or bad. In Actuality, things are probably thought out too much (like, everything is forgotten, or maybe remembered too well to require memories.) That is even something that was written in NY. This, is actually much better than NY ever could have been (what a bold presumption). I can say that because 4 months into that situation I didn’t feel like anything near as well as I do 4 months into this situation. I'd probably be a good stalker. So, while at the library, follow-up research was done. Yesterday, on the phone, Haley mentioned her "computer science' class. Already knowing of her band, I set some search engines to work. Pom Pom ?, Pom Pom Meltdown. The website had a bio, some info, a review from the Mercury. I took most of it in, giving me an unfair advantage. I am overly anticipatory in relation to this event, and it will be a spectacle. My God. Imagine, not only me, but with a girl. Hah! I guess, looking to the past, it isn’t that hard to imagine. But, in Olympia, I had one (1) date and her name escapes me. I remember she has a twin sister that lives in Kelso, WA...which is relatively near. And in NY, only one date, with Julia...and that (she) was very cool. All of my exploits have come from Indiana, except Carfin, but that was an IN offshoot. This could be my one date in Portland. hah, I'd better quit riding the sidelines and make the most of it. I cant get enough of this thread, the thread being my writing on Life. A few inspired journal entries, and two letters to Mary. Looking at it, taking it all in, we are culminating to a driving force. As if I don’t have enough fake conversations with people, I have a detailed fake one with myself, that is a good conversation. It turns me away from having actual true-to-life conversations with PEOPLE. I like to be around them though, I smile and laugh alot at other people, talking to other people. I am shutting myself in and turning myself off. That probably isn’t very beneficial to my goal of sociability, but hey. I really don’t even know what I am writing about right now, because of that I feel I should stop...but first, my point: nonsense. I left the house around one pm with the intention of not returning until after Arlo Guthrie, it is quarter to five now, and soon I will ride 'slowly and evenly" on my way home.
1/24
What a tester, completely amazing. So, as I had writ that I'd ride home soon, that wasn’t so. It was more than an hour before I got home (6:19p). What happened? Social interaction, shit yeah. So, there is a really cute girl than works at Stumptown, she wears all black, has glasses, rides a bike, she is very. She (her name is Sarah) had a chess game going near me and I was just staring, following the game and all...after awhile I kicked myself, got up, and sat at their table to watch. And we talked. She was playing chess with a guy named Alex (formerly of Olympia), he lost and somehow I played him. During that game we all got to talking, she is from Cottage Grove, OR, she is 25. Also, as if to pile so many good things, she has an amazing sense of humour, we all clicked rather well. After the game (I won), she and Alex were off to the Paradox, I went to the bathroom. When I was done, they were outside waiting for me, and she asked if I'd join them and of course I wouldn’t, I had Arlo Guthrie and Haley to attend. So, I went home, tended some business, checked my phone. It was 6:19p when I got in, I had one phone call (cellular) it was from Bill Lee at 5:58p. I didn’t call him back. Around 6:3p I got the go and left. The show didn’t start until 8p and it doesn’t take more than 15 minutes to make it downtown. So, I was there and I sat...and thought...for the better part of an hour. It was fine, a nice evening many peoples milling about. I was in a state of full enjoyment, running through my head how to address Haley upon her arrival. I decided that hugging would be the best thing. Like Napoleon at Waterloo, I neglected to completely understand where she was coming from so that when she did arrive my body and her body were separated by her bike (analogy tie in: the sunken road of Ohain). All my thought went to the wayside, a moment of disillusionment and she offered her hand. I took it, shook it, and then the evening commenced. We went inside, and we talked, it was nice, I was at ease. Obviously, the situation was way too built up in my head, but she is Jewish and seems quite proud of it. I say that because she didn’t ask what nationality (?) I was, she straight up asked if I was Jewish. I am not. Then, after we got the tickets and got through all of the hullaballoo, towards the seats, we had a pretty good thing going. Imagine, it only took through the door and up the stairs. So, we were looking for our seats, and we didn’t do a great job...we couldn’t find them, so we just took some. There were good people around us, we talked, she went to the bathroom and asked if I wanted a beer. Sure, shit. She even bought it. She got back, and we chatted, Sarah Lee Guthrie played a few songs, then the usher came to us to take away our seats and put us where we belong. They put us in an empty row, we had more room to move and chat. It was taken advantage of. The people in front of and behind us glared, I cant say that really affected our demeanor. Then Arlo came on and there was an intermission after a few songs, the last of which was "Coming Into Los Angeles". I bought us each another beer. We had time to really talk to each other, and I liked it. As I don’t remember much of what was actually said, I'ma move onto the end of the show. (Wait, quick as I remember one snippet:
Me: This intermission makes me feel like I should do something, have a cigarette or something.
Her: Do you have one?
Me: No, I don’t smoke, do you?
Her: Sometimes.
Then we talked al little more about smoking history.) Towards the end of the show thoughts of "what-the-fuck-now" ran through my head. I didn’t know what I was going to do, totally at a loss. Then the show ended and we filed outside. The doors we went out of led directly to her bike, she asked if I wanted to go to coffee at Roxy's. "Yes." So we walked up the street to be by Powell’s books, and consequently, the sculpture. I had never been tall enough, nor had she, but I was equipped with the bucket. Oh, take it. We took advantage of that, during the show there was alot of contact, of arms and legs, it could just have been innocent? She was on the bucket, pushing, and she started to tip back. I was there to hold her at the waist, it was suggestive...positively. It may not have been purposeful, but I made sure she was going to be okay by holding her there longer than necessary. Not only was it acceptable, but she turned toward me, that would have been a good initiation point. But, it wasn’t, it was merely the study guide, the answer to my question, and it was "yes". Eventually we made it to where we were going and that after effect was the "meat", the filling, it put everything into perspective. We would get along, even though she uses sugar and cream in her drinking a pot of de-caf coffee. Eventually, too, we left there to go to our bikes. It was a light rain, it was nice. She walked to my bike, some nervous talk (she wanted me to kiss her, blew it off with), some more nervous talk, then I just kissed her. I said, "fuck it", and we kissed. It was nice, we are going to see each other tonight at another show, Mirah and the Haggard. She is at school right now, and I want to call and leave her a message that is uplifting, and will play on jokes made last night...I'll. (Taped to this entry is the ticket stub for Arlo Guthrie.)
1/25
I went to a show last night. Yeah, my line of sight shows a flier for it and I might as well get it and post it in here...okay. So, after I called her and left an assuming message, I felt like things were done. Not
reason being the ease of just forgetting compared to the emotional effort of doing something. And, it was a rather creative something if you ask me.
3. It is almost impossible for my response, my reaction to her decision to re-acknowledge what could have very easily just been passing glances, to be surpass my original plan, my first action. So But, I did well in not reveling on the computer but for initiation, had I not immediately suggested a different medium, all would have been lost; because we are both real people with complete knowledge that the other exists, it'd be silly to not try to further true interaction.
4. The first phone conversation was much more real than a computer, but still synonymous, I think that being outside of physical interaction is kind of like nothing. There is no way (that I know) to properly understand a person over the phone, so it was kept very light, get to know you, natural, no losing points, but only a little bit better than doing nothing.
5. The first consensual contact, things were confirmed, we were (phew...) the people we thought each other were. Points for that. And now, at least in my equation, things could be reduced. In some sort of mathematical conversion I would take her actions, words, mannerisms, nuances, and everything into account and form my personal knowledge (or opinion) of attraction. Between first meeting and first parting I had come to a personal conclusion of attraction which leads to the first test.
6. I knew rather quickly that I would feel fine if the night at least culminated to a kiss. I enjoyed being around her, and to show my appreciation of her spending her good-time on me, I felt obliged. It sounds so sterile the way I write it, I guess I'll never be a romance novelist. Honestly, I know how I felt, and it was good, I told her as much by kissing, the romantic language. And she concurred with me on the conclusion by, not only, not pulling away, but pursuing that language I just touched on. Things were good, very positive and I would say (two days into it) that is a common feeling. This language we were speaking is (or was) also the tide that takes us past the initial point, it is where things become actual.
7. Of course, reality had to be tested. You cannot come to a conclusion without testing the boundaries. I had concluded that she and I had a pretty good connection, on different levels and there was also alot of room to grow. So, my test, I sent the message that said "Damn girl, you so fine." But, it was pronounced more like "Deamn grrrl, you so feine." I don’t know, I cant really write the accent that was employed. Now, I was playing on a thread from the previous evening. Being a play it could’ve still been taken literally. Not that I don’t think she is fine, but well if what I am attempting to transcend isn’t hitting the mark, so be it, I understand the risk involved. From that, I put everything on the line, meaning that I'll not sift through for too long, if I think (here comes another bad analogy) that there is gold there, I am going to declare that at first sign. That was my reasoning. I saw something shining and it I thought enough of it to say "Gold"...the backdraw was that I'd not really thought about it, it could of been fools gold (I cannot believe that this analogy is being allowed to draw out) and that night, her reaction would be the jeweler telling me whether or not I was an idiot. And, I as this graph description is coming to an end and I've not laid out the ground work for the rest of the evening, I'll do that; and in due time the jewelers verdict will be revealed (ooh.)
A. A is the prospective heights that could be attained if item seven passed.
B. B is represents the substantial lows that could result if item seven were rejected as "sexist asshole."
So, I left Stumptown around 4:p yesterday, went home to eat, yada-dada. I figured that since the show was early I'd probably not have another chance to eat until late, so I ate and Steve came home, in my absence a girl had come to him and given him her number on a box of Valentines Sweethearts candies. He was excited about that. Around 10 after 6 we left for Nicole’s...we didn’t really know what we were getting into Around 6:3p we arrived, at a house. Just a house on the NE side, a band van was outside moving equipment in. We were early, so we locked our bikes and walked to a park (Irving) that we rode by. There were quite a few people under a pavilion playing basketball. We thought that our eyes would grace some exciting street-ball...didn’t happen. They were none very good, we stood and watched. Eventually a player came up to us and asked me what I believed in. I didn’t quite understand and made that obvious...he re-phrased "Why are you both dressed in black?" Ahhh. And we then learned he was from East Africa and help similar political beliefs as us. We talked for about ten minutes about the state of the world and politics, his opinion: "the media, man; its the media." He had to go back in, and we'd better check out this house show anyway. There were quite a few people there this time, I gave $10 for the both of us. And then we were in Nicole’s living room, we stood at the back, being outsiders and all. We ended up acquiring the best seats in the house. It was all flat so those in back are usually fucked, but we were able to stand on the furniture and window sills giving a birds eye view of the entire room. The first band was "Squirrel Meat", art-punk, and I really like it. Then it proceeded as per flyer . After the first band, Haley showed up. Yep. I gave her a hug and then we split ways. She is a dancer, I am a window sitter. In between sets she found us and we talked. I liked the Haggard alot more this time, for various reasons. Mirah was amazing, my goodness. A particular highlight was, well, this is just a house with a bunch of people and we could see everyone, one of those people was Carrie Brownstein from Sleater-Kinney, it is just really cool that she was at a house show. After the show Steve and I sat there un through everyone being kicked out and then Haley came in to find me and I gave her my cell number. She was going to eat while Steve and I were going to a party at his friend Maya's apartment. I gave her my number for her to call if she wanted to meet up after she'd eaten. On our way we stopped and I bought a six-pack of Rolling Rock for consumption cold. When we arrived it was very chill, with only abou like seven people. I sat there for a half-hour, not doing or saying anything...I thought it was funny and fitting. Because:
1. It was all Steve’s work buddies, they know me from a button that Steve wears of me. From this button and the stories he relates these people already kind of have a knowledge and probably an opinion of me. I give them nothing.
2. I was thinking.
Eventually someone engaged me in conversation and I talked. During this talking, I got a phone call...not heard. Then another, heard. I answered and, who it be? Haley. I told her where it was and a little while later she showed up. There were a few more people at that time too. I like that she wears all black, Steve and I were sitting on the couch when she appeared, and she sat between us. How formidable, a couch of black. It was commented on. And we talked, we had some drinks I asked her if she got the message (what buildup, huh, this has been a long time coming, the culmination of the graph!) she did get it. She played it for her roommate and all is well. She liked it, I can only imagine girl talk, so I wont defile myself with speculation. The point is that the graph will continue toward point "A". She wanted to use the bathroom and I showed her where it was...that lead to making out in the bathroom. I asked her if she wanted to come home with me. She didn’t answer, so I said it was okay to say "no". She did, but she seemed happy at my proposal. Around 34:a I walked her out to her bike, we made out a little bit again and now she is in Eugene to play a benefit show. Amazing. We'll see if she calls me on Sunday. Around 4:a Steve and I left. Crazy. It was longest I’d been somewhere in awhile. I got to be probably around 5:a. what a day. Today, I didn’t get up until noon. My goodness. And today, I've done very little, aside from writing of course. I am probably 300 pages behind my projection of Les Mis. I should read faster. Tomorrow I'll probably go buy tickets for Sleater-Kinney on the 1st and also, Sage Francis is playing in February so there is some things to do. As if. The amount of action out here is through the roof, I write poorly about it, it is almost silly how much there is to engage in and any inaction is probably just a refusal to decide on what I should do. (Taped to this entry is a flier for Mirah, the Haggard, and Holly is my Hobby at Nicole’s.)
1/26
So clean, silly clean. Those words arise from doing laundry and taking a shower in the same day. I am going to take steps for dreadlocks for my hair, as I not only enjoy the appearance, I think that in some way they'll be hygienically beneficial. And, oh, art. I'll feel better about life when I participate in more visual artistic expression. I guess today becomes a day of want. Perhaps a list of things I would like to endevour would be a good task to mark the day:
--participate in more artistic expression, legal and otherwise. In the form of stencil tagging, canvas and other controlled surface painting
--transcribe my writings to a computer disk and send away the actual diaries
--(in conjunction) reduce my possessions, although I don’t have much, neither do I necessitate all I keep
--get a new bike that better reflects my intentions and also will satisfy any impending journeys
--further than graffiti, be more politically active, in demonstrations, personal and overall education, do more volunteering (at KBOO, Peoples, wherever I feel no compromise)
--learn more vegan recipes that can be made purely out of bulk foods, and still be amazing, and cheap
--likewise, spend less money frivolously, eat out less, drink less (coffee and alcohol)
--write more, not only in this, but in all manners of notebooks that have been started
--connect with more people on a personal and political level
--work less for "the man" and more for me; get a different job that doesn’t work against the things I otherwise work for
--wear more black, and rationalize it as saying I am in mourning for political prisoners on death row, any prisoners on death row, Iraqi and Afghan people murdered by the American oppressor, and other things that come across me
--be less aggressive with my words, especially toward Steve, because he takes more shit from me than anyone else
--be more honest and straightforward, less shy and timid, compromise as little as possible and try not to second guess as much
--be less fearful and take more chances
--watch less TV
That is a good amount of things to attempt, even though many of them are things that border on stupid (because of the current prevalence), but they are actually important strides. Rob came and sat with me. He isn’t anyone that has any prior representation in this book (and probably no further) but we talked. He saw my "Attack IRAQ, NO!" sticker on the bucket and wanted to know my feelings. I detailed my thoughts and he concurred, it was a good discussion that was unexpected yet highly welcomed. Notice the posting, that is an article I published at portland.indymedia.org, also, it furthers some things that I had written earlier as goals or aspirations, or whatever they are. (Posting reads: Everyday, I wear all black. Not too many people have asked why and I never really thought about having any real reasons. The other day, somebody asked and I stammered out some reasons, of course they weren’t very well thought out and I knew I had to figure out why I do the things I do, at least for justification...and because it could become a regular question. After thinking about it for awhile, I have come up with a list of personal reasons for wearing black everyday and I hope that these reasons help to persuade others to start wearing black regularly as well.
1. I am in mourning. Mourning for the hundreds of thousands of Iraqi children that have basically been murdered through US and UN sanctions. Mourning for Afghan people that was decimated by the Bush regime. Mourning for...(anything that excites you to action.)
2. For political prisoners and all prisoners that are wrongly accused and jailed.
3. For solidarity in the Peace movement, as it is easy to recognize others that are sympathetic to our cause if we wear an abundance of black. (This is actually the reason that stumbled from my lips when I was trying to explain to an East African.)
4. In remembrance and defiance of oppression of any sort, especially animal oppression. (Of course, animal includes humans.) As a way to denounce factory farming and environmental devastation from cattle farming and otherwise.
5. (This is kind of a joke,) It is downright fashionable, all the hipsters are doing it.
Okay, there aren’t many reasons that I could think of personally, but wearing black on a regular basis and especially to political demonstrations is a positive way to make a statement and people will be more willing to ask you of your purpose, thus affording you the chance to talk ideas and impress good things on people. So next time you are looking for something to wear remember that black is the way to go. Peace.Love.)
Also, I made natures burgers for dinner, and of course it was bought in bulk. I talked to Steve and told him of the list, and a few items I could recall from it. That goes in line with being nicer to Steve. If only initial reaction could be reflect into long term. That means saying something and then doing it is relatively easy, but continuing that isn’t as simple. The last thing is funny, because I really only watch TV in passing at home or at the bar. Since I am turning away from drinking at the bar and as a whole that just means I need to stop walking by Justin while he's watching TV. From the library, the other day, I rented Kurt Cobains "Journals", and they are horrible. Horrible in the way it was laid out and the content that was chosen. It seemed more like people milking his estate rather than an attempt to personify his artistic vision and overall creativity. Personally, I think mine are much better than his, the best par t was seeing that we like alot of the same music and are (or were) influenced by some of the same bands. Last night, in bed, Steve and I had some pretty intense pillow talk. About things we'd like to do, and our mutual misunderstanding of peoples perceptions of us. Like, why are people drawn to us? We threw out some of those thoughts and tried to understand...and did a good job. I remember this day last year, and this isn’t to betray anyone that was with me last year, but I am having a much better time in 2003. Maybe that'll be figured out, maybe not. Another thing that I want to touch on is that Haley is in a 1-year, the year of new beginnings and I am in a two-year, the year of relationships. So, maybe that is some sort of forging that’s meant to be...maybe not.
1/27
There are serious things that can be turned around in the funniest way. Steve and I had, again, some night conversation. This was mostly centered on sex...probably because he had talked to Veronica, she being the person that Steve thinks is most in love with him. And he invited her to come live with us. Whatever, we continued to talk about me. Haley, if she calls me, will probably eventually want to have sex with me. What is happening now, is that I am unsure of where I need to be or what is going on with me. What I just wrote is that I probably fucked myself in more ways than one with the drunkard of last year. I have had my share of weird, well things that I don’t understand going on beneath the waistline. So, he suggested and today I followed through with finding out about the big so-so. On Feb. 10th, after court, I'll be heading toward Planned Parenthood to have some tests taken. And where does all this come to be funny? That no strides can be taken toward a sexual relationship involving my penis until at least Feb. 20th. And because of my history and stuff I can see things moving faster than that so I have been having head/bed-talk involving Haley and accounting for the aforementioned. That is where it becomes funny. Justin asked me if I was nervous, I am not. My foolishness is the culprit if anything should go the wayside and I am continuing to read into the Haley situation too much. She was getting back from Eugene yesterday and the plan was for her to call me, that didn’t happen and if it continues to be the case (her unwillingness to call) I'll probably call her, but she'll definitely lose points...as if I keep a point system. The thing, taken as a graph, is that her not calling would incite a rather large dip. Still, I feel good about the strides I've taken and really there isn’t too much I could think of currently that'd work to knock me from this high horse. Regardless of all this nonsense I am currently blathering, I'd really like for her to call me and perhaps, play out one of those conversations I have in my head. I should open a vegan pastry/coffee shop where I can make the pastries and use organic Stumptown coffee, and maybe even sell the pastries to other coffee shops like Stumptown and the Haven. That is unchecked ambition that needs to be checked, because I cannot simultaneously plan for that and to move away in a couple of months. Because, last night, I also expressed that I could be leaving in six months and that'd be another point of discussion to have with Haley. By the end of June. I should have some kind of cash stockpile with which I could buy that new bike and fund a slow trip south to Bisbee. I need to get my head on straight and figure some bigger things out, stop piddle-dicking around in this life, get-the-go, or fuck-off. Jesus, why do I torment myself with such thoughts? Honestly, because she still hasn’t called me. It is a quarter past 7:p right now and I've not called her either. I probably wont tonight either. It is really all fucked up and I don’t think I'll worry about it directly any longer this evening. I don’t think there was enough foresight in my tattoo's. Imagine, huh? I'd like to print pictures of them and put 'em in here, simply because my lack of planning will show through. The left arm is really good, its the damn right arm, blasphemous free tattoo's and I plan to write Cousin Lisa this evening. OF COURSE, not to say how I feel this tattoo she has given me wasn’t quite the direction I had wanted to take that arm. Whatever, I was spacing out there. Well, I'll not need to write about what I want to write her about, as my insane saving spree of written word should well document the thoughts I'd like to transcend. I remember when the word "gimp" was a pretty bad cut-down, regardless of its history I would say that I am a gimp or that my feeling resembles what my mind perceives as "gimpish". This is funny, but true. I would think that a gimp would be a misunderstood leprechaun or something, like they are midgets and they encourage people to think of them as "spaced-out"...so, when I say I feel gimpish, I really just feel spaced-out. And it is funny when I am like this, to me at least, it is probably scary to everyone else. Enough with this silly talk, seriously. My Dad sent me some mail today, urging me to file for taxes and enclosing my W-2's (whatever that means) of course, I am not filing. In the year of, well I guess it was 2002, I made $2000 with him...or so the books say. Mwah-ha-ha. And, I am sure I didn’t make more than $5000 at this other place I work now. So that amounts to me not even being required to file and the same for at least the two years prior, so I am totally in the clear on this, fuck filing, it is simply a way for them to attempt to steal more of my money. I recommend they be satisfied with what they get.
1/28
Last night was utterly hilarious! It all started with sentimental Justin. Aww. He had been saving years of greeting cards that he had received...they went back at least to "Sweet 16", imagine. He was just going to recycle them all until I interjected and asked for them, they were still really good, and I could re-send them. So, we went through them together...I also (this was even before all that) played some very mean guitar in the garage, one day I could be a superstar. Hah. So, these cards, Justin's liberation of material reflected my liberation that I wrote about. I put together five packages full of shit. It is reminiscent of the Olympia send-off but none of this stuff was original copies, well a bit of it was, but not much. Anyway, I had these all prepared with stuff I was keeping for a reason, reasons are like rust, over time they'll destroy themselves. However, I still had no desire to send this stuff off to people I know, so I got a bit creative. I pasted fronts of greeting cards to the fronts of the packages to make it totally funny. I sent one to a kid I met at chimney school and one to Jon Woodward in Maine, and one each to my old addresses in NY and in Olympia. The fifth has yet to locate a recipient. I want it to be a girl, yet I have no addresses of girls I don’t really know. So, we'll see what becomes of all of that. Also, as posting will--hour break to be discussed later--show, I also decorated a card with a picture and a lot of words, most with meaning...however hard it is to find. And that was sent to my old address in Indiana. Another less suggestive one was sent to Rachel in Puyallup. Continuing with the things I did last night, I called Haley. So funny, I labored the cell phone to action, hunkered in my closet and talked for thirteen minutes. And right now I am at PSU, that hour long break was time spent with her. I don’t know what’s going on, she is a busy girl...many projects to think about and I am probably not toward the top. She is all about queer issues and the like, how does a hetero-sexual relationship match up? It really doesn’t. And because of that I really shouldn’t push prod or worry too much. Honestly. I'ma go into depth about things later, my ass is currently cold from sitting on stone...and writing. Maybe I'll not go into any kind of depth, maybe there is too much depth. Today, when I awoke, Steve was not home... (I'll just let that linger). I made vegan french toast for breakfast, compiled all of my mailables and went off to the Post Office, this was a quarter after 11:a when I left. I had to stop at a printer beforehand and there I incurred a 60 cent debt. All I had on me was a $10 bill which was too much for her to break, I told her I'd be back after the Post Office, as change might then be had. The P.O. was an experience. I couldn’t find the ZIP code for Tyngsboro Maine, so I sent it without...that one may be coming back. I sent out the four packages, the two greeting cards, and the letter to Cousin Lisa. I paid with a check and got zero change back. The thought crossed my mind about not paying her, about just forgetting about it, it was 60 cents. But then I thought about karma, I went to the bank and got $10 in a $5 bill and five $1 bills. Then I went back and paid her. She was surprised I had come back, please, of course I would. I then proceeded down Sandy Blvd., heading downtown. I made a stupid at the intersection of Sandy and Burnside, as I ran a red light just as traffic was pushing off and I darted in front of two cars. Idiot. The intended destination was the Crystal Ballroom, my intention was to buy three tickets for Sleater-Kinney on Saturday night at ten bucks each. One for me, one for Steve and one for...Haley. Then I went over to PSU to wait and write around 1:15p I called Haley. Alerted her to my position and continued with what I was doing. After very little time she appeared and we talked, then we went to a cafe "Food for Thought" and her friend Candace showed up and we all sat and talked. It wasn’t anything too special, I may have persuaded them both to go to Critical Mass on Friday...if I also call Sandy, that'll be three girls that I contribute to the mass. hah. It was a rather sterile conversation, Candace was the highlight, at its end, we left, she to class me to bike. Before we parted, however, I kissed her and she hugged me. Then we parted. That was it. And as for now I don’t know what I am going to do, maybe I'll go play guitar some more: actually, that is something I should delve into. It is amazing. I moved the amp and all three guitars into the garage turned on and at quarter capacity things were rocking. And I even had some vocals. I was doing some intense screaming and flailing quite madly. It was quite a spectacle and I thoroughly enjoyed what I put myself through and if we get another amp to where Steve and I can play simultaneously that could be a band. I think that right now would be the best time for me to remember some of the music and movies and musicians and authors that have helped me to be me:
Music
1. The Doors. Reading...wait, listening to their music led me to reading about their beliefs, most notable Jim Morrison. He was a poet, anti-establishment, not about to sell-out and always a little unsure if he was doing the right thing, and it totally opened my eyes that there could be a me and I could be that.
2. The Velvet Underground. A direct spawn from the Doors, these guys open the door to experimentation, they lead me to believe that who I am may not be a reflection of anything that was taught to me or that I know, so be open to everything for a little while.
3. Half Japanese. If only everyone could be exposed to this the way I was. The epitome of experimentation and "fuck-the-way-its-done", because this is how they do it and it would impress any 14 yr old in some way, a 14 yr old like me, well look at it now.
4. Operation Ivy. I was part of a personal summer of love when this likened to me. Like glue and hogs (whatever...) and it reflected a whole new approach, the spin on what I was into (Woodstock music), brought up to date (sort of).
5. Crass. The political fire thrust directly up my ass. What a good place for it. This is the culmination. These five bands are the sperm of what I've become. A peace-loving-eclectic-experimental-political-dark-uprising-autonomist that has deep roots...or something like that.
That'll be a fun game. It is even tough for me to place some, especially the hip-hop stuff. Whatever. So now:
Movies
1. The Basketball Diaries. Wow, imagine what a diary and some poetry...and a little bit of rock'n'roll will do for a boy. (Oh, and the drugs.)
2. Trainspotting. This was quite a bonding point for Steve and I and it really opened my eyes to some things that I might not have previously thought out. (Oh, and the drugs.)
3. Woodstock. 3 days man.
4. NBK. Amazing, this is my all-time favorite movie, it really shows some things that need to be personified.
There really aren’t many movies that come to mind, TBD is what spawned all of this, as I watched it tonight. It was the first movie that I put on and sat down to watch since moving into this new apartment (don’t hold me to this, but no other comes to mind.) That musicians thing is basically the lead singers of those bands, so they'll just get quick mention: Jim Morrison, Lou Reed, Jad Fair, Tim Armstrong, Jeff Ott (Fifteen), Kathleen Hanna (Bikini Kill), and John Darnielle (TMG).
Authors (or books)
1. Les Misreables. My overall favorite book, it touches on so much...and it is rather long. (Victor Hugo)
2. Zen and the Art of M.M.. This book redefined alot of things I had thought or wanted to think. (Robert Pirsig)
3. Prozac Nation. Wow. I was so depressed reading this, but it is great.
4. Reveries of a Solitary Walker. I had given this book to Steve to read on his bike trip. Recently, I've been flipping through it and reading the notes I made and the things I underlined...I think this book is the best reflection of my beliefs and feelings. Since it was written well before me, this might be the most influential book on my overall personality. (Jean-Jacques Rousseau)
5. Siddhartha. What amazing literature, I will read it whenever I need some uplifting, some inspiration and, like the river, it has no beginning or end, it is forever. (Herman Heese)
6. Aleister Crowley. These books (all thrown away when I left NY by someone...) are what kept me sane when I was younger (by sane I mean they were my salvation from what Steve and I defined sane as in Oly).
I can think of alot more, and we'll give Stephen King honourable mention (the reason I liked reading and the author I've read the most of), but it is better to keep it simple right now. As if any of this type of stuff is simple, what a brain racker. But, it is defiantly Music and Books over movies and music only slightly over books because of accessibility. I am very happy right now. (pasted in here is a receipt from the Post Office for $22.80)
1/29
I continued to not work today, woke up late, did nothing, felt like shit because of it. Fuck it. Last night I recorded my guitar playing skills onto a mini-recorder, the same one I had in Olympia, and I really enjoyed that...amazement. Loud and not very good to many people outside of me. I got thirty minutes of recorded material, halfway through (probably not that literal) I got my poetry book and started singing, or at least screaming words to correspond with the music. It is funny. And I got to record over me making an ass of myself. Yay. Steve got home and I played him the tape...he might have liked it, I don’t entirely know. He wasn’t feeling great about his work life and other things were (probably still are) weighing on him. So, I made him some french toast, we laid down and started to talk about the things that are currently making impacts in our lives. As are most of our interactions, it was beneficial and I definitely felt good about it. Not ice how for three lines I used the entire sheet. I have (or tha or thought that I had) no real reasons not to occupy the entire line. The most overbearing reason is probably that I was taught to stay within the little red lines. Fuck that, my goal is to re-think and rationalize the things I do. Why, besides upbringing was I not satisfying the entire page. For three lil lines I couldn’t think of anything, then it all came back to the things that are posted in here (letters and the like), they need at least one edge, so there is that rationalization. One down, countless to go. I did go into work today, to drop off some paperwork, show my face and such. Tomorrow morning I get to go help someone do a job...at least it is a reason to get up in the morning, which is amazingly something that I had been lacking. I find it surprising that motivation is without me. But, looking into it, what should motivate me? The dictator of the nation lied to all those saps duped by TV and mainstream culture and people are taking it lying down; well, actually they are, some elected officials are calling him on his lies, but most things seem to be in vain. And that makes me less my desire to get out of bed lessen. His march to war is moving double-time and each day I wake up could be the one the newspaper blabs to me about the overnight invasion, the beginning of the end. There isn’t much that my eyes are capable of seeing that make things look better. So, the longer I keep my eyes closed in that dream laced world of slumber, the better. Even if I am well aware that it is all fantasy, it is much better than the current state of reality. And today, when I roused I was told the outcome of special election: Measure 28 (designed to create a special three-year tax that would benefit schools and mental hospitals, etc.), FAILURE. Now, why would I want to get up and hear that mentally deranged people (of course more from the drugs than their realities) will lose funding immediately, and basically be put on the street. Oregon schoolchildren lose too, with the shortest school year and over-pruning of the special activities like theater and sports. These are not positive things. And I have come to realize in my life that not everything is positive and that more likely things are bad...but this is just fucked. Seriously. So, after I showered and had breakfast, I went into work. Quite leisurely. On my way away from work I stopped at the bank and cashed a $30 check from last week, deposited $10 and went shopping. I went to a thrift store, bought a bread pan and a cycling book. Then to Limbo to buy some bulk spices and other things like that. And I continued on to the Daily Grind to buy vegan margarine, some soy milk and bananas. I was going home to bake bread. And that I did. It is a strawberry bread, mostly of my own, loosely following a recipe. I'll be doing much more baking now, what with all these baking tools and well, bulk foods. Justin was home, and lately his situational breakdowns have been irritating me to the point of not really enjoying conversation. It is just his total inaction, his reasoning for that inaction, and his insistence of not allowing Steve or I to persuade. True, his situation is great, he is on such a fence that he can run from one side to the other to please almost any kind of person. Except, of course, a person like me that really doesn’t fit into any prior described bracket. And he mentions that. When he tries to appease me I don’t let it follow through because his sense of appeasement throws his past knowledge of life against me and looks for something to resemble. He thinks he sees it, but doesn’t, I am mutable and that isn’t highly understood. Honestly, all of this discourse loses me, I just don’t like to be marginalized by a fencesitter, come to my level and we'll talk. And the bread didn’t turn out great anyway. As if that means anything, mostly that I wanted it to be done quicker than it could be done. As soon as it was satisfactory I took it out, shut off the oven and left. By this time Justin had gotten into his Nintendo and I was more than happy to be absent for that lesson. Hah, what a tie in, because that will probably be a new course for the Oregon School System: Nintendo playing, controller mapping and understanding. Hah, and I wouldn’t even doubt it...lets just privatize everything, because Paul Allen knows what kids need. They need incentives and nintendo is a very nice incentive for a 12 year old...and in some cases even a 24 year old. I am such an elitist. Graphs are fun things to do, after telling Steve of my graph, he went ahead and did a couple and I think I'll bust into another here:
working against individual happiness. I shake my head and hope. And that graph is no good, I'll solidify my graphing skills and hopefully come up with some inventive graphs and if I am remembered it'll be the graphs that do it. Hah. I am currently making moves to rid myself of all belongings that I cannot fit into my two buckets. It is going to be tough. Clothes aren’t a big thing as I'll be wearing most of my clothes at all times. There will be something that is my laundry alternative hopefully I can find something small and black that covers my body enough to be at the laundrymat. My immediate grapple is music. I have like ten records that I brought from Indiana, they are really good records that I want to have but they are large and I have no means of playing them. Here’s the list: Propagandhi: Less Talk, More Rock; Fifteen: Hush; Velvet Underground: Live at Maxs K.C., White Light/White Heat, Loaded; Jad Fair & Phono Comb: Monsters, Lullabies...and the occasional Flying Saucer; The Mountain Goats: Coroners Gambit; Beck: Mellow Gold; This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb: Front Seat Solidarity; Jad Fair and Yo La Tengo: Strange But True. Yeah, that’s ten. And it is really good music, I have been contemplating donating them to Stumptown; I may even be able to hear them. The problem is how to go about it, I don’t just want to go in there one day and hand them to whoever is behind the counter, I want to be a little bit unknown about it. Maybe sometime this week I'll talk to Sarah about it, but it sounds so silly, the conversation I play in my head. I want them to be public domain, I don’t want someone to take them home and just collect them. It seems so easy, but it is relatively tormenting me. Mostly it is getting rid of them and I'm focusing on how to downplay the truth that the more I get rid of the less of a hold Corporate America has on me and it isn’t as easy to "Fuck It", because once I let go I am gone. I have also been contemplating the CD's and the radio, just shut off from media almost completely, but for now that stuff is okay to keep. In the next couple of days I want to take my laptop to a computer shop, see if it can be fixed, if it is a negative then I'll get rid of it, if it can be fixed for a respectable price then that'll be done. That is a large thing that I need to get rid of or put to use. I'll probably just end up getting rid of it because it is pretty messed up but I also don’t know what that kind of stuff entails. So it could be just a snap to fix, but we'll see, after that I really only have books and my journals, so it is actually easier than I think, but following through completely is a step that I am not positive about, but I am also not positive about most things that go on in this life. Ay thoughts are elsewhere, they lie in a different part of the country, I'd like to relinquish all that I have that is less than necessary, forward my mail to my father, and ride my bike for a couple months...with no one really knowing where I am or what is going on with me. It is funny that I mention forwarding my mail, because I don’t really even get any anymore.
1/30
As I walked away from the place that had previously employed me, I felt mostly dejected. Never had I been laid-off, stripped so suddenly of mostly meaningless possession. Work called me this morning, they said that because work was so sparse the truck'd be better with them. I saw no problem with that, I only used the truck for work related things anyway. On the way there, however, things started to become clearer, my rationalization became more intense and I concluded that if they went so far as to take the cell phone back too then that would paint enough of a picture for me to comprehend "laid-off". This is actually quite serious, when they first asked for the phone I was in semi-disbelief...I could’ve been dreaming. I'll continue now that I am indoors, writing outside in such weather is not recommended. And I asked "Do you really want this phone?" And they continued with their standard demeanor, serious. I relinquished the phone. It wasn’t the phone or the truck that I was holding onto, it was the idea of being employed. Like last night when I was struggling with giving up possession that defined me as a consumer, this was the same feeling, just with much less control. After the phone incident, I had no real reason to be there so I left. A minute later, I returned. Now, it would’ve been great if I'd returned to speak my piece, but the truth was that I didn’t have a piece to really voice. It was widely known that I wasn’t entirely happy with the job, at best I performed at par, what could I really say? Nothing. I just had to acquire a few numbers from the cell phone. After that I again went away. I don’t expect to be called about work, the fact, the truth is beginning to settle on me. As I walked away the initial feeling faded and I regained surity in my step. Not complete surity, but some. It struck me that I am closer now than (almost) ever before, closer to the absolution of living without. On the bus ride home I thought about some frivolities that I had been indulging in that I could now reduce. Like laundry, I've been doing laundry once a week but I can start going two or more now. I've been attending lots of rock concerts that I really don’t need to. This weekend I'll attend the S-K show and after that there'll be a void for awhile. I'll most likely miss Sage Francis, but all that frivolosity is nonsense, when you can live without you should. I don’t know what else, one thing I'll continue is having coffee. That seems very out of place in the fact that it is 100% un-necessary, but I'll have that one thread securing my place in society. More time will probably be spent at the library. When I was in Santa Barbara things were more desperate, but I understood much less. There I'd spend all day at the library because I didn’t want to face the world, there was too much temptation and I was too tempted. One more thing is letters, this book of stamps and the few letters (envelopes) I have left will be the end, as will this roll of film. Barely will these bills be covered, without some sort of lift there will be no March...but February is mostly taken care of. The more I discuss this situation with myself the better it seems, when all known options are used you are forced to be creative...to survive. And, after a little bit I'll be in that situation. I bought a book yesterday about pedaling across America, it is the account of three 50+ people that made the journey in 1986...it is inspiring so far. When I got home, I related what had transpired to Steve, and he asked to borrow some money. I gave him five bucks. The best thing is probably not going to be borrowing money from someone just laid-off, but fuck it, I am not the typical type of person, so it is not worrisome. Thinking about life, this is the most natural and probably the best thing that could have happened to me. It is a positive threat and a kick in the ass. It says to me that I can work with myself now, or against it. Everything is up to me, there is no force shoving me toward an unwanted end. Everything is my decision, the job I take (if I take one), the people I meet, the places I go, the vehicle I use. It is like the shackles of my life were busted off, but freedom is hard to comprehend (as evidenced by "revelry 54:33") and many beings (myself included) push for that life of shackles to re-enter my life of now, for the ease. It is so damn hard to be yourself in this world, there is so much compromise and defeat, that sometimes it doesn’t seem worth it too "fight the good fight" for society, and everything is automatically put into perspective when you think of going on your own to die a noble death, outside the bounds of what is widely considered life. That is really anti-life, and I just wish some people would started to recognize. It is fear, fear of the unknown and this "life" is so easy because there are so many entities to tell you how to "live" it, there is no stress on self or individual, because it just isn’t easy to sell one thing to 300 million individuals. But, if that same number were all told the same thing things would be much easier to sell to them. This is anti-life in a nut shell. Look around you, it is probably what you are living. I am faced with uncertainty, I don’t know and I don’t pretend to most of the time. Thoughts roll over me so rapidly I cannot process and condense most of them to words and that makes me sad. I don’t know why, because I don’t remember the thoughts, I just remember that I had them and that they were beautiful. Right now I don’t know what the next step is, it could be to leave now or it could be to seek employment more conducive to my demeanor. People, images, machines, corporate gods, and presidents tell me what I should do next, but their advice is merely a filtered version of what would be best for the standard American. I don’t take that advice, those real people around me tell me what they would do, but they really aren’t me, Steve tells me to do what I would do, and he is right...but that still leaves me wondering what I do. And whatever action I take would then correlate with what I do: chock it up boys, statisize it...remember. As of right now I still don’t know, I have a few alleyways that I'll explore, but nothing promising. Right now my least thought will how what I do affects those around me (like Justin*) and focus more on how it will affect my life in the long run. *Speaking of Justin, we were talking about money the other day and I related my emptiness in that respect. I said something like "I don’t know if I'll cover all the bills and have enough $ to survive." He responds something like this "I know man, really, I'm hurting too." And it has to be understood that Justin is merely talking about money in his checking account because (well, my speculative because has to do with his convincing himself that all the money he has is that in checking...) he also has at least $2000 in a savings account here and another $1000 in a savings account in Indiana. He is NOT hurting and has no idea what it is like to be in this position. I have (or will have after bills) less that $200 with no promise of any more income, he has all that and a steady job. He would be pissing his pants if he were anywhere near a desperate situation. And I really wish that he would understand that and not try to sympathize with me about money issues. (end asterisk section.) The image of my head right now is that of serenity, I'll sit with y palms down on the table, my pen on my book directly in front of me, my coffee mug to the upper right of the book and my eyes are closed, my head slightly tilted back and a grin on my face. Why is life so good to me? And let me, right now, dispel one argument. This euphoria could simply be dispelled with an old adage "misery loves company" because those outside of anti-life must truly be miserable, "I mean, he doesn’t even own a TV!" And a miserable person, to gain company, would quickly paint the most positive picture to "try to lure us happy 9 to 5'ers away from our happy lives...so HE could steal it. Mwa-ha. We beat the little devil." It really isn’t like that at all, because more and more I prefer to be alone, I find myself happiest when I am slightly detached from society. Like right now. I am in my own world also in society. Like there is a town (Parkrose Maywood Park, I believe) that is inside of Portland, yet not entirely part of it. That is me and I am happy. After some thought I will admit I am heavily leaning toward going away. How amazing it would be to just drop out, finally. And the best thing about it is the relative ease of it. I've condensed my possession to the point of next to nothing. I think that aside from a few books and the music everything fits into the buckets...the buckets fit onto the bike and I ride into the sunset to die. Hah. as if to top my cake, I spent like six bucks at the Daily Grind on my way home. But, it was good, I got nearly six pounds of flour and 64oz of soy milk. I came home and made soup and biscuits...it was really amazing. Amazingly enough, I also got mail today. I might as well make a phone call right now. Well, it was relatively unsuccessful, because I got his letter the other day which asked me call, that is the main reason I ventured that far into the abyss. I talked to Tuesday for a moment, she never really like me and unlike some people I don’t think distance should be employed to make amends. It was idle conversation and I was just as happy to be done with it. I really dislike talking on the phone it so is so boring. But some people get into it, more power to them, that is a joke. I had an idea last night for an art piece. I'd take a piece of wood (finished) and get paint on it, no overall design, just a random background. Then I would glue CD's to the piece using the wet paint and "mod-podge", then let it dry. The CD's would be pasted in such a way that they were in perfect order with overhang. After thoroughly dry I would break off the CD's edges using various techniques (stomping, throwing, smashing), then I would paint over that and call the piece "Media Sunset" (because the top paint would be an array of reds yellows and oranges, sunset colors.) Destruction, jesus, that is an overbearing theme in my artwork. And it also isn’t very original. SO be it.
1/31
The rains have come to rule the season, sandbagging in Portland, rivers overflowing in Tigard. What a night for a bicycle ride, eh? So there is a bit of dilemma, some things that I probably should address, but really I just don’t want too. Like the incident on the 17th. Sandy Bruce, do I call her to Mass? I don’t know but I think that when she said to call her for the next CM, she really meant for me to call her prior...that is up in the air. And Haley, she and her friend Candace concurred to possible go to this Mass, do I call her to remind her? Why the hell is she not putting forth any effort? That is another thing that I'll extrapolate on later, when I am at coffee. There I can delve into: Sandy, Haley (Candace), Justin’s Parents, Justin’s friend Kari, and the rest of the evening...for now, I think I'll clean myself, tonight could be amazing. I am going to start from the beginning and move in a semi-direct line to the end. Sandy. Sandy Bruce is a nice lady whom I've run into a couple of times, she is probably early thirties, she is outstandingly friendly. I never know if people like that are hitting on me or if they are just nice people, so I tend to forget about/avoid them. It has been three times we've run into each other, the last time she passed her phone number with zero insistence (from me). She said to call her for the next CM, that is today. It is raining and only getting worse...while I tend to not mind these situations most people are turned off to cycling in the rain, result: no call. Haley (Candace). Some of the same thoughts graced my mind when thinking of these two, but the relationship with Haley is more intense than the one with Sandy, so there was more contemplation. Neither of these girls has rid rode CM before, yet they both have a working knowledge of it. Last I talked to them I said where and when it was, my pat has been fulfilled...there shouldn’t be (and in my book there isn’t) constant reminders, grow up and remember. I don’t tend to like the excuse that ventures no further than "I forgot" I lose respect for that person. Obviously, I didn’t call Haley, if she (or they) show that would be very cool; but, I am not a fairy godmother sprinkling activity on people. I thought twice about calling her and each time I didn’t want too, and it would be uncharacteristic for me to do something I didn’t want to do...especially on the tip of attraction. (Whatever that means.) Today Justin’s Parents began their visit. I had met Bill Nick before, actually worked with him, but I believe this is the first time I've met his Mom. It was very funny when they were about to leave, Bill just started smoking a cigarette in the house. None of us smoke, and no one has lit a cigarette in the house since we've been there, it was odd. Last night, after I called my father, the phone rang and I neglected to answer it, thinking it would be for me and also not being in the mood to talk. It was my Dad (as the message admitted). Even later the phone rang again and I'd decided to answer it. Luckily it wasn’t for me, but I still talked to Justin’s Friend Kari for a good twenty minutes about nonsense. I didn’t even really mind it, the reason for that lies in my acceptance of talking (if it were for me), my relief in it not being for me, her light nature, and no feeling of expectation. And the rest of the evening resulted in two postcards to Houck, I write about these greeting cards, and this was my second action with them. On one was lyrics to a Laurie Anderson song, "Let X=X" and the other had half a conversation (?) from the movie "Weekend" by Jean-Luc Godard. It is funny (actually hilarious) to me, but I can see it being met with misunderstanding eyes. That was all the delving I promised, the quick version is that I just didn’t call either girl and am pretty much saying "Fuck it" as those situations matter less and less. Things that are making me happier happen today. Before I was at home taking the shower I was at the library photocopying that letter to Frances so I could send it out with today’s mail (including the two postcards to Houck). I called a computer repair man and I was informed quite clearly that it my computer was trash unless I wanted to go BooKoo with my cash. I don’t. During next week I am going to check the files I have saved on disc, make sure they are sound and then get rid of the computer. I'll sell the CD burner and the carrying case if I can, and that'll be one less thing that I have. I also called my landlord, Henry, to talk about paying the rent. Because we still need to receive copies of the lease and get his address. I suggested he come over to-DAY or tomorrow...he wanted to come over to-NIGHT. I told him that couldn’t happen, so we settled on him dropping the lease copy in the mailbox tonight and we would simply send the rent and other paperwork tomorrow. Then I got in the shower and all was sound, complacently happy, until I got out of the shower and became downright ecstatic. Steve was home now, and the mail had come. Now, for me, getting mail is just a special thing, but this mail came from left field, I had actually mostly forgotten about this girl. The mail wasn’t read right away, I had to first finish with my toiletries and sit down to read that first piece. (Taped in are my W-2's from my old job.) But, there was also the other piece which again made me jump for joy. It was probably quite a hilarious sight, I was literally jumping and screaming about how I made less than $7000 (on the books) this past year. Imagine, most people jump for joy seeing that they've made lots of money I was very excited to KNOW I was underneath all tax brackets and therefore exempt from filing. In 2001, I was definitely under, in 2000 I might have gone onover, we'll never know! Hah. That was just the thing I needed. I was over the top, whatever that letter said would just be my cup runneth over anyone around, guzzle up. And that was another bearing in the decision to not call Haley. I went out of my way at least twice to show that girl a good time, to make friends, hell to make effort and she wasn’t into reciprocating that so I didn’t want to spend my good feelings on her. These are for self-absorption and remembrance in words--these words, this is happiness. And now, the letter, I don’t usually do this, but I am going to break it down. The first two paragraphs are standard fodder, things I usually stay away from (except with the Frances series) the third is what I want to hear, this is what it says: "How you like that, huh? I am single now." Hah (that is so funny). The fourth and fifth are great the first show understanding and gratitude, I think, and venture to say: VISIT. She says dear and much love at the end. These are probably standard things to say, but she knows that I have like her basically since I met her, I think everyone around at that time knew that. Definitely, if you read her letter, read my response...it wont disappoint. (Saying that, I'd better write it now.) Okay, now my hand really hurts from writing so much and I'll have to switch pens...Jesus, I don’t ever enjoy running a pen out, but I'll get used to it. I had a dream last night where I tried to buy someones shit, literally, their feces. It was pretty disgusting and I don’t know why that stuff surfaces to my consciousness. Steve got money for his birthday, $50 from his Mom, and a $50 gift certificate from his father (for River City Bicycles). He said that he was going to use that money for Sage Francis tickets, but I'd rather him buy food. I have $1,092 in my account right now, $850 goes straight away to rent tomorrow, that puts me at $242. Justin will give me around $30 for the phone bill that is $86, so if we take the total to $272 and then subtract $86 we come out to about $185. One Hundred Eighty Five Dollars. That is my life savings, hah. Steve offered to quit his job so we can both be jobless, that is un-necessary. Okay an don Tuesday, $25 will be going to Organics To You, that will put me at $160. On the tenth I will be shelling out between $25 and $50 for various STD tests, and with various spending in between, I forecast my money to be less that $100 on Feb. 11th. I need to meet someone with a computer and use them for that...that sounds so bad. Honestly, I have been thinking about handing these books to some typist and paying for it. Tonight, however, will be amazing. As I'll probably have no more time to write today, the rain is coming down in sheets and I am leaving in about twenty minutes for CM. And after that, party.
2/1
I am in the exact same place where I stopped writing yesterday and because of that I am going to continue on writing the way that yesterday allowed me too. It was raining very hard when I left Stumptown yesterday, it seemed almost silly to attend Mass (hah) in that weather. But, I persevered, if Steve and I were the only two that showed, then that is how it would be, because the Mass rides on regardless of weather. I left and I was already wet, just from going outside. The rain jacket kept my upper body dry, but the lower body played victim. I just forgot about it and rode, and it was going to be a feisty evening, because on the way to downtown a lady tried to cut me off on a sidestreet and I wasn’t having it. I got in front of her and pointed (convincingly) she yelled "Fuck You" and I replied "Fuck You too," she turned, the bikes had one victory going into it. When I arrived under the bridge I was thoroughly soaked, my feet were like sponges, and they were full. I was the first person there for the Mass and definitely not belonging to the ragtag that was occupying the shelter. I don’t think that the Portland homeless people are tough like those on the east coast, because it is so much more extreme out there. These people I think are all ignorant and mostly young. That was evidenced by the fight that I unwantingly witnessed. Some kid that belonged there less than I did (he looked like he was from Suburbia, just trying to fit in), and they (the homeless elite) knew he had little to no reason to infiltrate their lodgings...whereas they might have known that I did. Also, I am not an idiot. This kid said something to a black kid half his size and therefore this dumb white kid was jumped by three people. I wanted to stop it, but that wouldn’t have accomplished much more than me joining the kid on the ground. Luckily a little while after that incident a few more bikers showed up. Tony had never been on a CM ride, but he had the day off of work and decided to brave the weather and see what its all about. Nathan, a Portland Public School Student Alliance activist, was also there, but I didn’t talk to him until later in the evening. The next person to show up was Steve and we talked, it was still raining quite hard and not many people were showing up, I started to have doubts. But they were quite unfounded as more and more people trickled in. By the time FNB showed up there were at least thirty cyclists. More were showing, so I jumped in the FNB line to have some good vegan food, and it was good. That in turn made me happy. Shortly after I finished, around 6:p somewhere around fifty cyclists pushed off from under the bridge onto Naito Pkwy. There were no cops, six showed up on bicycles, but they left before we did, that is what the failure of Measure 28 accomplished. We took advantage of their absence, Steve and I especially as we started the corking. The second cork I was doing was right in front of a police car, I was corking a cop and I did that on purpose. There was no reprimand, things were wonderful, the rain had subsided. We went like this weaving through downtown, Steve and I and a few others doing all the corking. Around Pioneer Square I was corking a stretched limo that was also an SUV, it was disgusting for what it was and it had a police escort. They didn’t like that I was corking them, the cop pulled around the limo and turned on its siren. I didn’t move, but the Mass stopped moving, no one really understood what was going on. Well, the cop opened his door (and hit my bike with his door, this gives an idea of proximity) and said something that didn’t register. I took off, and the cop came after me and Steve was by me, the cop was after us. We yelled to the Mass in front to clear us a lane so we could ditch the police and we did so, hiding out in Pioneer Square. The cop, befuddled, went back to guarding his SUV limo and the mass went around the square, Steve and I rejoined. The people of CM know us by our corking, and our screams. They know our presence and I think they were happy to see us back. That was the last hiccough of the evening, for the mass as a whole. We went into the NW and I wiped out in a trolley car groove I kind of hurt today, but it was like nothing last night, I made fun of it, stayed vocal and everyone was happy. Then we crossed the Morrison Bridge over to the east side, it was my first time on the bridge, we made it across the steel grating with no injury. The mass was dwindled to around twenty now and we went around the SE side as such, this is where we get intimate with each other, I started talking to Nathan, and someone else was talking to me, it was so natural and fun. I think the person talking to me was Dave that I met so long ago. We were in the lead and went back over the Burnside Bridge into downtown again, when we made it over we were only maybe 10-12, the thinner it gets the more pissed off the motorists get and the more dangerous it is for us, we had the entire Burnside Bridge backed up, 12 riders, wow. Talk about awareness and subverting car-culture, there it is. We didn’t stay downtown long, we just meandered to the Hawthorne Bridge and crossed back over. Around Ladd's addition, we became five cyclists. Five. 5. And we took up both lanes and rode up the Hawthorne Hill. Towards the top an angry motorist in a pickup truck zoomed around us to be in front, stopped and started to get out...we just went around him and kept on riding, the only way a single motorist can stop a bicycle is by hitting it, it wasn’t like the five of us were about to stop and talk to this guy!? Eventually we gave up a lane and called the mass over...it was almost nine p.m. Steve and I rode ahead and rejoiced, then Craig, one of the last five stronghold caught up with us and we all went to the Daily Grind to do some light shopping. Steve and I bought maple syrup, tofu, seitan, and bread for 18.00, Craig bought vegan parmesan. Vegan bike riders are so cool. We said so long when we parted at 49th and Hawthorne. Steve and I went home and had pancakes. I had a message from Haley saying she didn’t want to go to CM, but she did want to go to the party. At that point I wasn’t going to attend Justin’s work party, I didn’t much feel like riding back downtown, and I didn’t want to call her up because she is kind of a drag in that she'll go to social events like parties, but not like CM. I didn’t want to think about it, so I didn’t; but then it was only 9:3p and with nothing to do, I said "Fuck It" and decided to check out the party...alone. No CM, no party on my laurels. It is like if you don’t finish your dinner, you do not get dessert. I left the house around ten because Justin was supposed to get there between 9 and 10 and I'd rather him be there by the time I got there. It didn’t take me long to get there, but after I got there I went slow, to cool off. It was at 709 SW 16th on the corner of Morrison, number 502. So, I parked a block away and leisurely walked over, it was beautiful out, I had taken off my jacket and gloves. I was happy just being outside. I located the building and then walked to the opposite end of the block, counted the floors, five, and no lights on the fifth floor this side. I sat on my bucket and waited. Nothing was happening, no one in or out. So I walked across the street and eyed the fifth floor, no action. Then the other side and I saw 502. It didn’t look very happening, so I sat and waited again. I debated writing, but that could be engrossing...and if I saw someone headed to the party I'd have went in with them, I really didn’t want to go up alone...I didn’t even know if Justin was there yet. I sat, no one came or left. I looked up at the party, there were Christmas lights strung across the crease where the wall meets the ceiling...it looked like there were four people up there. That'd be murder. After another ten minutes, lo and behold, J.Gall comes meandering up the street. I yelled to him and we chatted for awhile before ascending to the party. Getting in, there were maybe 10-12 people there and it didn’t resemble something I would normally attend...but that’s okay, slowly I introduced myself to people and didn’t just stand there like a jackass for the entire evening. I had one beer, Justin had two. We were talking to someone, I think his name was Jonathon and that he worked in Internet, but Justin made a remark similar to this about me: "This guy adapts to any situation he is faced with." I didn’t really agree with it, so later during a lag I asked him if he was bullshitting when he said that. He continued: "You may not be a big conversationalist, but you do adapt and become comfortable in any situation." I agreed with that and enjoyed hearing it. There was some meaningless conversation, about my tattoo's, my failed attempts at Powell’s employment, and eventually Justin and I were just talking on the couch, about sex. It was funny, and nothing that really needs to be repeated. Around one in the morning we left. At 1:23a I was laying in bed to sleep. I got out of bed this morning around 11:a. I was tired, I made and ate a breakfast of Vegan french toast, paid the rent and took a picture of Justin and his parents outside of our house. A space shuttle crashed and I couldn’t help thinking how meaningless space exploration is when there are so many home planet problems. And while I am splaying out things that happened today, it is also Steve’s birthday. I went to the library and then came here to write. It was amazing, because the money I spent last night left me with one dollar and I was all set to employ that for the sake of coffee, but one of the baristas said to me while I was in line "just coffee? It's on me." I said thanks. Things like that totally baffle me, because what is free coffee etiquette. A cup of coffee also has a re-fill, is that still free? I took a free re-fill, but not without hesitation. There is a bit of apprehension for me to leave, but...that’s right, fuck it. Another thing, pensive. I was thinking of that word and I like it as a description of me. The literal definition probably betrays my personal definition, but that’s okay. I am not going to delve into that right now, I just have one last note to make: while sitting here a man drew me writing and he did a good job. I would’ve liked to get a copy of it, if ever I see him again perhaps I'll ask. So on the front I wronl wrote that all points of a circle are positive and that life is circular. That amounts to my belief that everything that comes form life is inherently positive. No matter how negative it seems, it is positive because it is really just social conditioning that makes things seem negative. Life is a balance, is if something is out of whack, well, then something will check it and put it back in balance. Napoleon tried to permanently sway the balance, but it was not possible, life didn’t and does not allow it. Same with the 9/11 attack on the U.S. that was a check and emperor Bush said "you cannot check me, (and it is ME, not US) I check you", he is attempting to do the same thing Napoleon did, permanently sway favor for the U.S. AND IT IS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. Life will not allow it, that is a promise. This is something I've read today and I know not who said it, but it seems to be a summation of the ways and reasons I have been living...thusly, I highly enjoy it: "Even if the goal of achieving beauty from simplicity is aesthetically less exciting, it may force the mind to acknowledge the simple components that make the complicated beautiful." So, my way of living, minimistically, is beautiful and it is a way of understanding the missed beauty of the complicated system we know of life. Wow, that statement just amazes me, one day I hope to have the ability to wield words with such force and direction as to make them as fluid and beautiful as that which was just quoted.
2/2
What a night, and subsequently what a day...so far. I ended up going to see Sleater-Kinney last night, and that was amazing, very uplifting. Steve came home a little after seven and we got to talking, about meaningful things. I related to him that I am ultimately preparing myself to leave on my bicycle at the drop of a hat. And that hat is currently teetering. The dispersing of all my things, the thoughts devoted to bicycle upgrades and repairs. It is all directed at a central thought and that thought is freedom. I am, well, I think I am making quite magnificent and graceful strides towards this goal. My material wealth is next to nothing, I have no savings and I am trying to remove my name from publicity. Like, someone goes to search engine and types my name in. There are quite a few things that pop up, and I'd like to change that to none. Yesterday I deleted two web pages that I had started and now there are only two left. The first one (which is the one I'd really like to lose, but I unfortunately cannot recall the password) and the last one, the diary at xanga.com...but as soon as I am reassured of my backup of that, it will be dismissed. It is stepping outside of society and it is also noble. I don’t have any real reason to remain attached to this consumerist life. Well, that is the type of stuff I talked about and he read me his writing. Eventually, we left for the show, it was after he'd eaten the meal I had made. That is another thing I planned to do, copy recipes so I don’t have too much stuff in life, copy the ones that are easiest, simplest, and that I like the most...and copy them into a book I'll keep with me, like the TOFU TOLLBOOTH. So, we left around 8:3p with the show to start around 9:p, the typical hulla-balloo was garnered upon entering with a bucket. The search and stuff, nothing new. We made it just a few minutes before the first band, The Black Keys, played. They are drunkard roadhouse music, I didn’t mind it, but it also did absolutely nothing for me. The next band was Quasi, and I liked them. They had some lyrics that actually meant something and the keyboardist/guitarist was phenomenally active, jarring the keyboard, getting every bit of sound out of it...it was great. Janet Weiss, the drummer of S-K is also the drummer for Quasi. Because of that there was a longer than average break between bands. And when S-K came on, I mounted my bucket and became the tallest person there, the scourge of the people behind me. That lasted for about 1/3 of the show, some violent pushing and shoving persuaded me to dismount. But that was okay, because I started dancing back on the floor. It was very fun, there isn’t much description that I could muster and do it justice, so I wont. After the show, things sucked. A couple of years ago, when my tire was stolen in San Francisco, I bought a new tire and tube to go with it. Well, that tube went flat last night for the first time. The rear tire is not quick release, so changing it would take some time and although I had all necessary tools on me I decided to just walk/bus home. That slash is backwards because I decided to bus home, but the next bus wasn’t for a half-hour...instead of just sitting I decided to walk, and I made it across the bridge before I stopped and waited for 12 minutes in a bus shelter. It was after 2:a when I got home, Justin was inside smoking pot with Sindry, his stripper friend. And we chatted for a bit, then she left. Steve wasn’t home so I'd assumed he'd stopped at Kari's and he called to affirm that assumption. I went to bed and I had some weird dreams. At least two that I remember. One involved me and my brother and cloning. In it, I was a clone of my brother and I didn’t like it. The one I had just before I woke was of me Steve and Jake, his little brother. They share birthdays and there was a movie once called "18 Again" or something corny like that, the plot is an older man wishes to be 18 again and he gets his wish, becoming his 18 year old grandson or something. Well, I dreamt that happened with Steve and Jake. Yeah, it was odd, but not to the point of checking myself into a "reality" clinic...haha. Then I got out of bed, had a word or two with Justin and then made breakfast/read the paper. Toward the end of that when I was reading the Help Wanted section, Steve came home. Then Justin left for work and I moved on to fixing my bicycle. I am not necessarily good at fixing bicycles, most of the time I don’t know exactly what I am doing and in turn figure out my own way of doing things...but to someone that understands the "right" way to do that kind of stuff will look on with a disgusted air...and that is something I really don’t like. My brother used to do that to me all the time, tell me I am "not doing things the right way" and my defense was that I just wasn’t doing things his way, anyway that I accomplish things for myself becomes the right way. Then he'd say I am not doing things the "best" way. This was what I really liked, because I got to lay on him things he wouldn’t understand. There is no "best way" I would tell him, as different things are tried new ways become apparent and new doesn’t necessarily mean inferior, it just means that you have to use your head and become more of your own person, rely less on what others tell you. He wouldn’t really be able to grasp that, he'd get pissed and tell me to fuck off, his way was quicker and that’s all that matters. Some people. So I was fixing the bike, in a way that is probably just mine, and definitely not the "best" way, and Steve was standing in the doorway. He knows the "right" way to do things and because of that I envisioned him as my brother standing over me. So I yelled at him and basically just said to come in or get out (he was just staring from the door) and he went out, that eased some of my tension. I fixed the bike and put everything back together...then I explained my reason to Steve of acting so harshly. Onto minimalism, and bartering. So, I called up Stumptown to attempt the record for coffee trade. Luckily, Sarah answered the phone and I said: "what is your policy for trading records for coffee" she: "it depends on who this is." I explained and I was glad I knew her and she said it was okay, she'd do the deal. It was, however, my choice of which record to part with. I chose the Velvet Underground, White Light/White Heat. That is such a good record. My last listen had both Steve and I under the influence of marijuana in my basement. Crazy. Now I have nine records to part with. And after that, the CD's. And soon enough, I will have nothing in this life and by turns I will become the true essence of life, living for me, by me; with nothing material to influence or hinder me. (S-K ticket stub taped in here.)
2/3
Monday. I awoke around 9:15a, and I immediately checked for messages. There was one, from work. But, from mow on, I’ll refer to it as ex-work, as I don’t foresee myself devoting any more of my time to that institution. I deleted the message and started to read the paper, nothing particularly piqued my interest, so I turned my focus towards breakfast. Pancakes, and imagine the diversity! These cakes weren’t constructed as per traditional recipe, these were banana pancakes...and amazing. This morning tended to lag quite a bit, and because of that lag things that have since gone the wayside redoubled and demanded my attention. I made a hemp necklace, and it is a really nice design, something I am quite proud of. I was halfway done with that necklace at 12:23p, just for frame of reference. My mind was anticipating the mail, and this isn’t something extra-ordinary everyday the mail is a driving light to my future but most usually that anticipation is unfounded. Today was quite different, but that is something that I want to build up to...at least for a few more lines. When I told Justin of my lack of desire to talk to or work for what is known as my job, I was outside tying hemp. The sun was out for a few minutes and that led me away from my room, towards the outdoors. After I was outside (for the few minutes) the sun died away...at the mercy of the clouds. I kind of felt defeated and it was not long until I went back inside. My justification was the crispness and the chill in the air, as those added together equal stiff fingers that tie very slowly. I was only back inside for fifteen minutes before I finished the necklace. And I proceeded to show it to Justin, he concurred about its goodness, then I went to check the mail. The mailbox contained two letters, both for me and I was quite ecstatic. I opened the one from Maine first, it was is a response to those packages I sent out, at least one response. That is positive. Although his response is equally as untranslatable as my first effort, it is still nice to know that the package went through. When I got inside, I started yelling about goodness, as I said, I was happy. Justin emerged when I was opening the second letter and due to his presence, I read it aloud. It was probably weird hearing that letter with zero frame of reference. I thought it was a good letter, however now I am at a loss for writing her back. Being as the correspondence was technically terminated (and my lack of envelopes) I am unsure if I am going to respond. Just more things to fill my time and occupy my mind as days of long thinking hours wash over me. Speaking of thinking, my thought patterns are quite unpredictable. And I have an odd presence when in reverie. My mind is overtaken with a thought and my body basically shuts off to allow this thought to run its course and I stop and stare and think. The thoughts aren’t generally categorized as regular thought...I don’t tend to remember what stopped after restarting. What happens is the though revolutionizes the mind, forcing it to stop and in restarting, it is different. It is kind of like shutting off your computer and while it is off adding or removing something, changing it in some way and when it is turned back on it doesn’t necessarily register what happened, moreso just that something happened and now it is different and somehow better. The actions that take place in my few seconds of downtime stem from this, I think: my eyes see something that my mind registers as a stored thought or memory and in identification, things are stopped and taken into account, on its own my mind registers the correlation and upgrades, dismisses, or otherwise alters that which was sorted. This is a process of growing and it suggests constant change, and I like that. And after reading that letter for myself and Justin, I began to prepare to leave. Outstandingly enough, I had something to do today! Justin had written me a check for $28, to cover his portion of the phone bill, so my task was to deposit that money! Yay! I went ahead and to the bank deposited $25, the other $3 I kept on me, and upon leaving I could be heard on my bicycle singing this song "I got $3, yeah, I got $3." The song isn’t terribly original, but it made me happy. I took my $3 and spent $1 on coffee here, at Stumptown. I have seen one thing inspiring, 4 kids, probably around 11 years old, one with a copy of George Orwell’s "1984". Justin owns that book, he said something like he read it last year for the first time and it changed his life. My first reading of it came when I was 13 or so, and it also changed my life. Speaking of changing my life (everything is falling into a congruous phase, as if it were planned or something), Steve and I spent last night talking about things that changed our lives. And it wasn’t game shows (JD reference). One of the very big things that I really don’t give enough significance is the epic bike journey that took me from SF to Santa Barbara, and left us living outside. There is just so much in that trip that I cant process, and many other people cannot even fathom. My only wish is that I'd kept better records of what we went through. My memory doesn’t allow where certain things happened, but it does let me recall places we stayed and events that occurred. Steve puts the two together for me, like Gaviota. Gaviota was one of my favorite places, there we were, right on the beach, a railroad bridge above us, weather barely accepting us, I walked on that beach and read signs how the tar on the beach is natural and that it doesn’t harm the animals, they are used to it. However, the signs failed to acknowledge the five or six oil rigs visible in the ocean, they have nothing to do with it. Alas, they are removing the oil, making it safer! Hah. And I also really enjoyed Limekiln, even though we were camping on rocks and that was they day after the raccoon incident, that place was hopeful. I ascended a hill and found a huge water tank and I am pretty sure I climbed it to see the squall, but if I didn’t, I really wanted too. At the time I accomplished those things, however, they weren’t much. Then, I had no future. Without a future, why remember the past? All I have done since then has worked to help me understand why I went through that and, it turn, showered me with ideas for making next time better and longer. That talk probably spawned from my continuing efforts to dismiss excess, or, rather, prioritize my excess. Last night I removed the DVD's I own(ed) from the realm of "mine", and moved them more towards Justin’s, or at least toward publicly owned. I used the case they were in and I made a deal with myself. The case holds 24 discs, I allowed myself to fill and keep that with me. Later I will make a list of the movies I relinquished and the music I kept. However little I possess, it seems like so much. Everything seems like excess and I constantly find myself convincing myself why these things are kept. It is getting harder to be original lately and soon I'll probably find myself denouncing everything. My clothes are at two pair, one for work one for other, my CD's take up a small case, numbering 24 or 26 actual discs. My books consist of but few and those will be re-diminished before leaving. I seem to be slowly convincing myself that I can live without and after each purge comfort will rear its head and I'll dispense more un-necessary things until I can actually keep only what I necessitate. Justin is getting away with a steal too, I was going to slowly dispense that which was not kept around town, trading for things that I enjoy, but instead I outright sold the DVD collection and CD collection to Justin for $10. He hasn’t given me the money yet. When I made the offer, he had the audacity to inquire about the condition of the discs. True I don’t take great care of things like that, but all that stuff and the carrying case for $10, c'mon, fuck off for a bit and stop questioning a good deal. When he asked that, I wanted to take everything back; but I am not that big on re-nigging. The next thing to be condensed will be these diaries as they take up quite a bit of room. I was just contrasting the letter I wrote to Kelly, and her response. I compared that to the way I felt when we were supposed to meet in Chicago, on the 31st of August (I think.) I went there and she didn’t show, she said she'd not show and although I showed, she had no obligation. With this letter, I wrote that I'd write no more, yet she wrote, I have no obligation to write her back, her life is finding some sort of track and insistence to interfere may not only be helping...let alone making a difference. So, it I am going to stick to what I said and leave her alone, in quitting my life of possession, I must also include emotional incidents I cling too and routinely remove them. DVD's leaving my possession: Flatliners, Trainspotting, The Foreigner, Unmade Beds, Natural Born Killers, Vanilla Sky, The Big Lebowski, Being John Malkovich, Almost Famous, The Underground Comedy Movie, Woodstock, Cannibal: The Musical, Snatch, South Park: The Movie, Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Drawing Flies. CD's remaining in my possession (review previous list of CD's kept to see what leaves my possession): Half Japanese: Bonehead, Hot, Music to Strip By, Greatest Hits; Jad Fair: Greater Expectations; The Lucky Sperms: Somewhat Humorous; Teenage Fanclub: Bandwagonesque; Teenage Fanclub and Jad Fair: Words of Wisdom and Hope; Yo La Tengo: Nuclear War; Billy Bragg: Back to Basics; John Vanderslice: Life and Death of an American Four Tracker; Fifteen: Swains 1st Bike Ride; Crimpshrine (burned); OPIVY: Energy; Crass: Penis Envy, Stations; Lou Reed: Set the Twilight Reeling; Lou Reed and John Cale: Songs for Drella; Sleater Kinney: One Beat, Hot Rock; The Mountain Goats: Tallahassee, All Hail West Texas, Ghana, Bitter Melon Farm, Protein Source of the Future...Now. That’s that. Things I have decided to keep, however not in my possession include the Velvet Underground Box Set of CD's, the painting Rod Rob made for me, all pictures that Houck framed for me. That’s all I can think of off the top of my head...I plan to pawn my CD burner and the bass guitar, however I don’t know when. The other night Steve and I discussed the role white heterosexual males play in society and concluded that it would be better off if we just killed ourselves, instead of stay hetero-sexual (since we cant really change the white or male--without money--parts). We said this jokingly, but I am thinking of actualizing it, heavily. I really see any reason to have a sexual orientation, as it is totally pleasure, it has no quality that I am currently thinking, only bad things or unwanted things will occur by pursuing sexual relationships. Since committing myself to this sex test I have begun to think about how I got to this point, it was entertainment and excess. Those are two things that I am currently purging, and why not also denounce my sexuality too, it is only a burden. I am not really seriously attracted to men, or else I would just be gay, as it isn’t really anything that scares me...but, because of my case against this meaningless pleasure I feel that I should just announce asexuality, it would ease my tension toward talking to people; I wouldn’t shut off my attraction, as that would be unfounded, I just see no reason to pursue an even slightly sexual relationship. This stems from thought and flowers from Haley calling me tonight, she invited me to her "Danger Zone" (house) for Thursday night and I don’t want to mislead anyone really (although I joke and "fuck with" people, I don’t want them to really be able to think of me something I don’t give them) and Haley needs to hear this. I have it semi-broken down and it goes something like this:
ME: I don’t want to kiss you anymore. I have been discussing things with Steve and thinking of them alone and have come to the realization that sexuality as I know it is very unfounded and foreign to me and I don’t want to immerse myself in waters that I cannot remove myself from (then go into the sex test thing)(then go into saying things that we should still be friends and such)
Her: (thought, no words)What a fucking weirdo!
And that is my vision of things, I am quite serious about the things I have been thinking lately and I would like to actualize them before their prime passes as I think these are very positive steps to take in my personal quest to become whole. OH, what have I done to myself? I wrote the letter to Diane, went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I asked myself: do I want this beard? There was not a resounding yes. Then I reposed the question as: do I want to shave? There was not a resounding no. Faced with indecision, yet feeling actionable, I decided to just have side burns. After that happened I continued with the rest of it, all of it. I have not been completely shaven for well over a year (I'd always keep the soulpatch) and now I am. I feel so light and able my face is all red and patchy with dryness and some pimples, things hidden otherwise. Then I took a shower and used various conditioners on my face to offset the zits and the redness, I took some pictures and will paste them to the opposing page when developed, they are probably going to be quite hilarious, and the future will tell the truth.
2/4
I guess that the life I live and the thoughts I have are just a complete contradiction; a conflict, and as I've stated before our only reason to live may be the dynamic magnetism of this conflict. This stems from shaving. Steve and Justin both suggested to me that I shaved to get a job. That wasn’t a conscious thought at all, actually I had no real reason to shave and the only reason I hadn’t been shaving was because that was the more natural, more fluid option. Shaving is like work, especially due to my refusal to use cream. The contradiction is in the letter I wrote to Diane, stating that "everything I do has meaning or purpose", and right after that, I shaved without reason or meaning or purpose. It was total contradiction, within a few minutes...I still don’t know why or if there is a why, I shaved...and it shouldn’t be that big a deal, but it definitely wasn’t to increase my chances of employment. I have been braiding a very cool necklace for the last hour...but it seems I don’t have an adequate library of beads to complete it...and that sucks. Everything ended up working out okay, however. After the necklace couldn’t be finished I decided to leave, it was irritating me. I set course for home, but soon enough I turned around figuring the bead store on Hawthorne could help me. And, it could. I found a glass bead quite similar to the one I required, the main difference--it was blue instead of clear...not a problem, it only adds to the structure. Also, the bead was given to me, not paid for, and that was highly welcomed as I have but one dollar left and that bead cost 50 cents. Also, it continues to get better, a girl that works there also blows glass and she'd help me out with glass beads in the future...all I need to do is call this number: (pasting reads: Reagan (glass beads) (503)235-3558) All it takes is to say what you want to say and things come to you. I'll probably call her this week, talk to her about it, maybe check her stuff out and in turn she can see my work. After that sequence of events, I felt pretty good. I went home and started to finish the necklace...the bead was a little tight, and I cut myself getting it on, but the necklace was finished...and it is a nice looking piece of hemp too. Then Justin alerted me to a saved message on our voicemail that he didn’t understand. I listened to it and grasped the callers identity rather quickly...it was my brother. I have been carrying around this phone card since Thanksgiving, I think, and being that I only had a miniscule amount of time left I'd decided to spend it on my brother and ease my pocket of some excess. I called and we talked for nearly four minutes, then the card expired. He asked typical, silly questions like: are you ever coming back? I never expected the conversation to aspire to much. The time frame puts us around 4 in the afternoon right now...I checked for O2U and was delighted to find a stocked tub of produce at my disposal...I began making soup. During the soupmaking, I started braiding another necklace and am going to finish it yet tonight. Also, to supplement the soup, I made some flax seed crackers that didn’t turn out that great, but I was lacking some ingredients. That finished, I ate! Hah. It was around seven then and I had planned to come to open mic for the first time since I had stated my goal of writing two poems to read...I figured that since I picked the hemp back up, might as well check out the poetry too. I called the Haven and asked what kind of trades they accepted...and my conclusion was the three back issues of BUST magazine for a cup of coffee, and bottomless at that! But, I am not going to take advantage of that graciousness. I am unsure of my desire and capability to read poetry, but as the night wears on, that will be foreseen. Tom McGovern is such a funny guy, he was at the open mic and well, I just find him hilarious. I ended up reading one poem...I was the last to read and that was good, as I feel that the poem I read had some power behind it. I read the extrapolation of "Shadow, Mirror" and I ad-libbed as necessary. I feel much more comfortable there now and very welcomed too! That equaled out to be all good things, I finished the necklace I'd wanted to as well and I think that this necklace will stay around my neck...however that could change.
2/5
How beautiful things can be...I woke up earlier than usual today, I wanted to get a jump start on the day. I fell into night on an only okay basis. Steve and I weren’t really talking because I got on his case about eating pancakes for dinner instead of the soup I made. In turn, there were no pancakes left for him this morning, as I had finished the batter with the portion I had for myself. I don’t know if that helped him understand my argument, but that was one of my points. And the bike show was on KBOO this morning too...I was happy about catching that! Ohh, I also constructed another necklace last night...three in one day is my personal best and my hands hurt this morning. I wanted to leave soon after the bike show, so I started and picked out beads for two necklaces that I will create today. There is going to be quite a promising protest tomorrow which I am gearing up for...in addition to seeing and talking to Haley. But, I am sure I am getting ahead of myself. Yesterday at Stumptown, I talked to Sarah (who has an art show on Friday) and she gave me a piece of vegan cake. I thought that was nice. She also recommended to me the Stumptown coffee on Division, which she has been working at. She said I should come by sometime this month. I am there now. She is not, however that isn’t a big deal. I figure that if I am not going to "work" I might as well still be active because if I am not it leads to the belief that life is dominated by "work". That is an explanation for the spike in necklace creation. And that is why I wanted to get up earlier, seize these days. So after I showered, I wrapped up my necklai, put on clothes (hah.), and set course for Mt. Tabor. What a nice ride, the air was crisp, the bike gave me shit, the sun was shining and I was feeling great. I rode great too, very evenly. At the summit I rested for a few minutes before I started weaving the hemp into a necklace. That didn’t last long, my sore hands and the cold air led to slow painful stitches and after awhile I decided to just sit and think, enjoy. Some dogs were behind me, barking incessantly, yet controlled and it persuaded me to turn my attention toward them and watch the fracas. A squirrel was in a tree, two dogs were circling the tree and barking. I was standing, watching. Every now and again, the squirrel would come down and rile up the dogs, she was just playing with them, she could’ve just leapt to another tree and forgotten about it, but she wanted to display her superiority over the dogs. This led the owner of one of the dogs to exclaim "idiot dogs". And I felt that he was right in giving the squirrel the upper hand, but were the dogs really idiotic, I wondered. I thought about this a moment and decided to leave. In that situation the dogs were not the idiots, they wanted something and went after it...they showed ambition. So the dogs were ambitious. The squirrel wasn’t idiotic, it was evasive. And one on my bike, as I passed the dog owner, I said: "you have to wonder if the dogs are the idiots or if we watching them are." And then I left. And I meant that, two guys were standing, watching two dogs bark at a squirrel. In the equation, those watching become the idiots to entertainment. That deduced I left, and left the other guy something to ponder. The ride down the hill was amazing, Mt. Tabor has "switchbacks" the hill is too steep to just go up it, or to just the paved street was is like "S's" in design and those are switchbacks. I am pretty good at riding without the use of my hands, but I astounded myself today making all but three turns without the aid of hands...it isn’t easy, going down a hill like that speed is picked up and I was weaving around debris and people...it was quite exhilarating and I may invest some daily time to ascend and descend the mountain. It seems to me that if we are going to put forth effort to live this life, we should live it as we want. There is way too much compromise on average. Too many people want to do things but are somehow held back. This revelation is not new, just recently dusted. It isn’t easy to do what you want, contrarily, it is hard. Sometimes it is right next to impossible and that allows it to be feared and that fear (this is all in a line) leads to compromise, and that leads to resentment and hatefulness. "If the media didn’t make my kids want nintendo, then I wouldn’t have to work this shit job to please them. God, I hate my job." And that hate is misplaced, as this person should be hating the media, should hate the root (if you are going to hate) and not the weed that it constantly springs. Or, maybe, we should just leave consumerism behind completely, after all it is that beast that fuels the media. Nothing will be simple when we take to task unraveling this spectre that is widely known as life, but that struggle is what we grow from, for without that pain of completion things would be taken for granted and eventually abused. In turn creating another vicious cycle that must be unwound and then re-threaded. Currently I wonder things like what the word "gentrify" means, as I've overheard it three times today. It is rather nice out this evening, a bit cold, but I am enjoying the weather. I think about how it would be being homeless out here and conclude that it wouldn’t be all bad. I could live on Mt. Tabor or something. These things, thoughts, wash over me because the job market looks less than promising, March may find me on the street, I just don’t know. I am internally debating applying for aid, but the earliest I could apply for it is Monday...and what a day for action. Justin and I spoke when I went home earlier. I told him that I didn’t want to come home and find him sitting there all the time, wasting away opportunities to live. He concurred and related to me his current thought of complacency. I hope he does something. I hope that because I'll continue to do things and as I've said before I am not going to consider his feelings (or anyone else’s) largely in what I set off to do for myself. If I want to go be homeless, that would mean leaving him and the house and all the bills behind...that is okay with me, that is a sacrifice I am willing to make. The necklai are proceeding quite well. The two I had set off to make were made with minor problems. And I found a new way to set my goals, tonight I started six necklai and picked out bead structures for each one, cordoned the beads for each one in a personal babb baby baggie and then put two started necklai and the accompanying beads into a larger bag. One bag for each of the next three days...my total is at 22. I figure that with enough pounding my hands will eventually harden to that torture and when that time comes my work will proceed much faster and with a modicum of ease. I am only assuming that the word modicum is being used correctly...that is usually the case with most uncommon and otherwise misrepresented words. Right now my hands are beginning to go numb...and this is merely field practice. And the moment the numbness is recognized also gives reason for a shudder of reality to work its way through your body. And not the reality that is advertised on TV, it is the type of reality that arises when one understands what it is like to have to be outside on a cold night, all night. When one has no place else to go but a tree...and at least it cuts out most of the rain. I can feel and shudder for that reality right now because that is a reality that I had the opportunity to experience first hand for a long enough time to give me the knowledge that I could do it again and the savvy to utilize it in a beneficial way. All points in a circle are positive, life is a circle. I came out about two hours ago to go for coffee, when I arrived the place was mostly packed and I decided to wait awhile. I've been sitting half a block down on my bucket since then, looking and feeling homeless, it turn writing about it. The culmination may not be my enjoyment of coffee at Stumptown, perhaps I'll just sit outside and think all night...but that would be silly. I am currently paying for this place I might as well take advantage of it.
2/6
I woke up today at 9:16a. I left the house at 10:03a. Promptly after waking I closed my bed and got dressed...this led Steve to question: "Where are you going?" I told him I was going into the living room. About ten minutes later, he joined me from his slumber to the living room. I was well on my way to being well on my way, half done with the newspaper when he started it. Once I finished perusing the paper, I looked in the kitchen for a sign of some hidden commodity that I could use to make breakfast with. I found nothing, so I took a pear into my room and turned on KBOO. As it could be deduced, that didn’t last long...soon I was completely dressed and brushing my teeth...I was walking out the door when Steve was reading the Sports page. This isn’t trying to be a comparative analysis or the like, Steve just voices to me his desire to be more active in the morning and I hope my example pushes him a little bit and he begins to see the ease. It is another beautiful day here in paradise, aka life, I left to activate myself. A long time ago I wrote of my desire to ride Mt. Tabor everyday, and I repeated that sentiment yesterday. Today it was follow-up time, I rode up the hill straightaway, it was easier and more rewarding than yesterday, however I really need to invest some dollars into the betterment of my bicycle, or get a new one. But I made it to the top, I sat and I read. The guy with the dogs was there again today, but we exchanged no words. I tied half a necklace and then I left and as everything else was better, I made turns tighter and more concise without my hands...but I still couldn’t do the tough ones. I am semi-convinced that they just cannot be done without hands and at the speed which I am riding. Maybe if I find a way to slow myself down before the turn and without the aid of my hands. It is all ambitious and not readily important. I understand now why Sarah wanted me to come to this other store, because her paintings are hung here. We talked about that and I didn’t quite understand what she was saying at the time, but here they are...airplanes. It is almost noon now and soon I will be off to congregate with the Portland Public School kids at their protest. On the opposite page is posted their flyer I got at the S-K show. I think it is going to be a good thing, but the buzz seems to be relatively low. I am not one to go out and create buzz or really even listen to it, but I tend to hear if it is around. I wanted to get there around now, but I guess too much time was spent at Tabor Park. Also, the idea was had to set up some shop at the gathering, pawning (or trading) hemp necklai for $10 bills. This all gets me to thinking about my days at school and how I worked for change. I think that in a low activity region I stirred up quite a bit of controversy and it is like anything else, I am somewhat of a standout where I hail from, but putting myself into situations that I have, I become much less of a standout and quite a non-influential character, but that only lasts until I want to change it...and in the CM range, that has begun. My thing is the recognition, I don’t want it and in a field where so many want to be known and noted for their activity, I'd much rather be a side line player, not someone widely known, that isn’t anything I am seeking. The position I'd most relish is the position Siddhartha played on the river. People hear of a wise man and come to find someone, something they don’t understand and in all their lacking, write-off. That is, to me, the position that I could see as most rewarding...because he wasn’t even really aware of the buzz about him, he didn’t know people were pilgriming to see him and hear his words. And, he continued to be human, not like the Buddha, he stayed as part of this race, not becoming something godly, he was humble...and I believe I am as well. I wrote a check for a dollar to enjoy this cup of coffee...hah. And, funnily enough, I just wrote another check for another dollar that bought me another cup of coffee at another store. I wont get into too much detail about the rally and march, as it is explained well enough on the indymedia.org post that I wrote and pasted in here. (Indymedia Post reads: I arrived at SW Taylor and Waterfront (Naito) around one o’clock in the afternoon. There was a small congregation of people, a few I had recognized most I didn’t. So I went and sat by the water and tied a hemp necklace. The necklace turned out really well. Right after I finished the necklace I went to obtain my bike as I had parked it about two blocks away. Luckily I made it back about five minutes before the march began. I took my bike and corked the intersection. The police were glad that I had. Throughout the entire march I rode my bicycle in the back weaving back and forth between lanes as an "escort". This being a "radical" march (no permit obtained) the police were not required to do anything but cite people for breaking the "law". I am not a big fan of staying within the guidelines, we are protesting to break free from the guidelines that have gotten us to this point and we are protesting the force of dictatorship and police state that is being pushed on us stronger and stronger at each moment. The police sergeant called for backup to cork the streets and tail the ride. Although the cops were now officially tailing the ride I stayed in my position and told the sergeant that it wasn’t necessary as I had things under control. I am pretty good at that kind of stuff, but it would have been nice to have some help. I understand working within the system for social change, but for growth to occur we must show that we are ready and able to take care of ourselves. There were other cyclists in the pack, walking their bikes. They could’ve been corking the intersections right alongside the police, to show the police that the people of Portland can take care of themselves and moreover the CHILDREN of Portland have a firm grasp on how to deal with these things, as I don’t see them slowing down what with this march to war that dictator BUSH is directing us toward. There are a few other radical marches and gatherings that are being planned that I read about on INDYMEDIA.ORG, I will be at those as well, as long as I can. And I will have my bicycle and I will cork the streets and tail the rides to keep the angry motorists AND the police at bay. Others should take it upon themselves to do the same. If we want to be independent and free we need to show that we CAN be first. Now, this is not a downgrade to what went on today, it was spectacular marching into City Hall and all...I was going to stay outside, I am not a student, but when ten cops went inside I followed to remind them that they are dealing with kids and that they should take that into account. I was fooled. The cops were rushing in because Mayor Vera showed her head to the students and attempted to appease them. She spoke about the legislature and funds not being available for schools, because they are already committed to other projects. I found it as a load of shit, as most others did. Eventually, when she realized she was talking to a group of people that didn’t understand the lies she was spewing and she realized that without allocating funding at that moment she would not have been able to calm the rabble. She skated. After that things broke up and I went to the bathroom. When I got out there were but a few people left and I decided to leave. There were plenty of cops hanging around outside still, however. I have a suggestion. Why don’t we cut the funding for the police, take care of our issues on our own and put those police dollars into the school coffers? That makes sense to me, especially because I am out there proving that the police aren’t really necessary. Take action for yourselves and keep hope alive. I hope to see everyone at the next demonstration or march ready and willing. Peace.Love. end post) I will say that it was a good time. After I left I set course for the Daily Grind, all I had eaten was that pear and I was rather hungry. I was right downtown on Morrison (at City Hall) when I left, so I took the Hawthorne Bridge. After all, the Daily Grind is on Hawthorne. At some point when I was crossing the bridge, I decided to hit Peoples instead, as it wasn’t that far out of the way and I AM a member. I bought some flour and baking powder, tofu, rice milk, and tomato sauces. I spent ten bucks and that hurts. It hurts like OUCH!, that is 8% of my available funds. Well, I don’t know for sure. I labored home, literally. Oh one on the way to the protest I rode by the Haven, and Steve was there...he probably didn’t see me, and I didn’t stop, he usually goes there with his girl and I don’t want to be a burden...plus, I had a place to go. So, I was laboring home, and this damn bike, the chain decides to fall off. I fixed it after I figured out what the hell the problem was. And eventually I made it home. I didn’t do much there, I wasn’t there for a long time...maybe a half-hour...maybe. I made some pancakes and ate, cleaned everything and left a not eon the remainder of the batter that, well, this is what it says: "PLEASE DO NOT EAT, THIS IS MY BREAKFAST." That is a direct letter to Steve, as he has a fondness for consuming pancakes at night. And plus, he said two days ago that he would buy those items that I did. If we kept track of turns, it would’ve been his turn, but my main concern is that I cannot support him with what I buy...he must contribute. I don’t know, I've talked about this with him before and he tends to shrug it off and appease my desire with empty words. Meaning he I bring something up, he says he will change it and that change doesn’t come. Example: the shopping thing that I just wrote about. And the sad culmination of all this is that I tend not to believe the things he says any longer. And that is sad because I want to be able to believe him. I think that things work from the bottom all the way to the top, that makes no sense so I'll extrapolate: if I cannot have faith in a person on little things, I cant really have faith for meaningful things. For me, it is all connected and that is a big reason I tend to be so quiet, I don’t want to mislead anyone and worse yet, I don’t want to misrepresent myself. So I tend to follow up on the things I say, especially when I say them seriously. And then I gathered some material I'd rented from the library and took it back. There, I also wrote the Indymedia story and I've also been transferring the posts I made on Xanga to an undisclosed website that houses my diary from NY. Eventually I want to get it all up on there, and on two disks. One to keep with me and one to be stored with my father. I continue to think that I'd like to house the originals in NY with Rob. But, I don’t even know if he wants them and plus I need to type them all first. Then I came here to Stumptown Belmont and my current thought is that I should probably be more worried about my lack of employment and money. But, it doesn’t really plague my thoughts. La Di Da. I am supposed to hang out with Haley tonight, but honestly I don’t feel up to the task, so upon my arrival at the home I will phone her and tell her as much. Actually, fatigue is my current feeling. I have done quite a bit of riding today and I kind of just want to go home and sleep. Right now, it is a quarter after seven.
2/7
Last night was funny. I tied a necklace at Stumptown before I left, so I got home around 8:3p. Justin was on the phone, and when he got off we began to engage in quite a conversation. It was a conversation about life and how we both engage in it and differences and I explained to him how I deal with people and why that is the case. This ensued until around 9:3p. At that point I exclaimed that I needed to call Haley. She was quite pissy, I didn’t think that'd be the case, but she was steamed. I told her to call me if she wanted to engage in time with me over the weekend and then I said bye. I have zero desire to coax an angry person over the phone. I doubt she'll call me. Turns out that graph faked to point A and was aimed at point B most of the time. Justin and I talked more then he left me with my thoughts, so I tied another necklace. And Justin also started me into knowledge that Powell’s books is hiring, and I am going to put my head in there to check upon that. So, after the necklace was tied, I went to bed. Got up this morning around 8:3a, Steve was up and running, I'd thought that he read what I wrote, because his action strongly resemble the reaction my criticism was searching for. He was out of the house today when I was half done with the paper. Quite right! So, after I ate breakfast, around 9:3a I'd gathered my senses enough to leave. There was no leisure ride scheduled for today--I had business to attend to. Right before I was walking out the door Justin popped his head out of his room and said he wanted to talk to me. I told him I'd be back in an hour, as I was only headed to work for check pick-up. That was accomplished in the allocated hour, deposited and back home at 10:4a. At work they alerted me that my services may be utilized for next week. I regretfully relayed my less than complete availability. On Monday and Wednesday, I am unavailable due to court and the doctor. We'll see what comes of it. So Justin wanted to ask me to hang out with him today, since we are both going to be downtown, he suggested collaborating a time and space to meet up, I don’t like those kind of plans. But, I agreed to meet him around 2:p at Powell’s. That agreed, I sat down and made a necklace. It was around noon when that was finished, so I set course for the library. I did the usual stuff there, refined my resume and printed two copies and then set off for Stumptown. I received $16.00 more than expected from work, so I kept six bucks and now proudly carry around pocket change of five dollars. Woo-hoo. After I put this down at the coffee shop, I began to continue tying the necklace that was started at the library. I made it a little past half and it was 2:05p, so I decided that it'd be a good time to leave. It didn’t take long to get to downtown and let me say I was burning when I got to Powell’s. I was pedaling hard, I had on too much gear and it was surprisingly warm. I took off my gear and ascended the four flights of Powell’s and acquired two applications. Justin and I were to meet in the coffee shop, so I went down there to fill out the application...only one though, because the one for the cookbook store must be filled in, or at least turned in at that store, so I saw no reason to fill them both out there. I got right into the app. and halfway through Justin showed up. He did some things at work, I finished and returned the app, when he was finished we left the bookstore. Our course was set for Ringlers, as they have free pool until 6:p. It was around 3:p when we got there. Maybe 4:p. Anyhow, we played two games of pool, which were split. He tried to get me to spend money, I re-re-iterated my lack of funding and he said I sound like his Mom when I continuously tell him the same thing, progressively saying it sterner, with dim hope that may help it to be understood. He then decided to get food and, in turn, I left. I got home around five and rather quickly began making a casserole. That was finished at 6:2p. It was really good, I recently finished eating, it is nearly seven now. At peoples the other day, I bought rice milk instead of Soy milk, and I because it was cheapest and my intention was to use it for cooking. I decided to taste it...since it was around. It is much better that the Soy I am used too, and I think I may make the switch to (this is what I bought) Low-Fat Vanilla Pacific Rice Milk. Yum. While the casserole was baking I finished that necklace that was started at the library...my production lately has been amazing. Forget about all that. On my way to this art show, I got a flat tire...I'll extrapolate on that later. Yesterday, talking to Haley, I told her I was going to this art show and she snidely remarked: "meet someone." When I left Justin at the pool hall I seriously told him the same thing...and he did, amazingly enough. Now, I just waddled out of the show, I have no motivation to talk to anyone, it is creepy...especially because many of the people here I see almost daily at the coffee place. Coming here to see this, it really rekindles my desire to create. And it is obvious that I don’t have very many original ideas, but that shouldn’t be a great hindrance to creation...even if the stuff is mediocre, or bad. This stuff in here is all, well mostly good stuff, especially Tracy Tiggins. If that person catches a break, things'll explode. I was only in there for like ten minutes, and I feel as if I should devote more time and perhaps even attempt to talk to someone...what a venture, my god. Hah. And, I told Justin to come down here...I should at least what wait a bit to see if he shows...yeah, that’s why I am outside, that silly goose, Justin. That is me joking, funny? Not really.
2/8
I waited awhile, eventually I got through rummaging through the industrial waste, looking for the perfect piece of wood. I don’t think I detailed my ambition for selling these necklai, the plan is to find a nice board, about 1 ft X 2 ft and wrap that with my white towel, put both buckets on my bicycle and ride to places like PSU, Reed College, the waterfront, etc., take off the buckets, put the board across the buckets and lay my works out...I think it is brilliant. So, I didn’t find that board, but I looked plenty crazy rummaging through all that shit. After I got plenty cold and didn’t really care if Justin showed up or not, I took off. The ride home was much quicker than the ride there...and even though it was more uphill it seemed like a nicer ride. Some of my disdain for the ride down probably stemmed from the flat tire, which was entirely my fault. Here is the situation, there was a hard-ass in a car and I wanted to show him up on my bicycle. You might say that in addition to the car hardass there was a bike hardass. So, at one light I darted in front of him and proceeded to cut him off, at the next light I took the red while he stopped. At the third, this was Sandy Blvd, I was in front of him and the light was yellow. I manipulated my weight to propel me, and I also made a swoosh with both of my hands...then I hit a dip on the other side, nearly lost all my balance and the tire was quickly deflated. Luckily it was the front and I changed it on the spot, without a grudge. Sometime today I am going to buy two more tubes and perhaps a new front tire, we'll see about the cost. So once I got home I settled into eating more of that casserole. That accomplished, I began to tie a necklace, just when I was applying the first bead, Justin came to me and asked me to listen to a Bob Dylan CD with him...it was something I'd borrowed from the library. I obliged and took my work station into the living room. He actually wanted to talk, and I was occupied in counting...and actually listening to the CD and him. When the disc was finished, he went to playing nintendo and I went back to my room to finish the necklace. Steve showed up soon after I put myself back in my original position. He asked me if I was avoiding him or if I didn’t want to talk to him, pointless questions, skirting what he really wanted to ask. So I answered and told him what he asked: What did I do today? I told him and that was that, he fell asleep. Soon after, I went to lay down. I was first up this morning...no newspaper, most likely because I had cancelled our subscription yesterday. Without that to read I jumped right into breakfast, pancakes, from the same mix I made two days ago...and it'll also feed me tomorrow morning. That is longevity. Hopefully the casserole will last until tomorrow too, and if no one else moves on it, it will. So after breakfast, I moved to reinvent my backlog of necklai. Meaning I was down to having only two started on me, so I setup for four more and tied one on the spot. Things are coming to a head though, I used the rest of the black hemp today, now all I have are the two rolls of large hemp, and beads that don’t easily fit. Soon enough I am going to have to beef up my supply of beads and hemp. But, I think I'll just see how far I can stretch what I've got. While I was tying the necklace, Steve left. We haven’t been talking much lately so I haven’t the slightest idea where he is going exactly...I think he took with him the cookbook so hopefully he'll invest in some grocery items for the home. But that isn’t something I am counting on. Again, today I did not ride up Mt. Tabor, I thought about it and against it...I think that if I do two more my total will be thirty and it'll be high time to start unloading them for cash money. Sitting here, I even showed my technique to somebody and admitted my naivety and kept on going, it is amazing this life. So I took my finances into account finally and it is a fucking joke...so I decided to go out to eat. Hah. I just spent $17 on bike things and was at home and hungry...not readily finding anything to make AND being without the cookbook I got semi-frustrated and said fuck it. I'll go out. Then I thought that through and realized how bad of an idea that'd be. So I filled out the application for the Powell’s store on Hawthorne and said "if they are hiring, I'll submit and then feast." And that’s how I ended up at the Paradox...it has been awhile too. My God, I am ecstatic right now, how amazing. A concept that may have previously escaped me, that I thought about while eating...actually, I am going to stray from that thread altogether and put this on display: Why don’t I just do it already? Like, why do I continue to subjugate myself to this life, these things that I have such a disliking for...what is holding me back, where am I not complete. I think that as this completely washed over me and I gain a more complete understanding of my relationship to life, maybe I can feign an answer. But, the preliminary result, the current running through me is that I am ready and these feelings and thoughts that I am asking for to come, I am looking for reasons not to get it on with life, and damn if I a'int convincing myself well, huh? But, of course, this is all preliminary and I am sure that if I think about it long enough I'll fool myself plenty of times with why's to stay in this life, don’t worry, there is something keeping me connected...I just need to find it and soon enough it will occur to me how arbitrary that is...and I will put myself right back where I am now. In the realm of uncertainty and foolishness. Hah!
2/9
Talk about following up on desires and thoughts, last night worked to effectively change the scope of my entire future. I write about foolishness and the loss of life, about not cherishing objects...and I do this with complete knowledge that I have allowed myself to become an object...and that I haven’t done much about it. That is partly what yesterdays writing was about, moreso it exemplified the fact that I know what I am doing to myself and am fully conscious of the lies that I put myself through. And it ended with a personal call to action that was answered last night with reason. Steve and I hadn’t been speaking much before last night, we both had things we were dealing with. That was all processed and ironed last night...I made seven necklaces yesterday, but that has little bearing. He was talking about how people at his "environmental" workplace justify having cars in case they just want to drive out to the coast. That set me to thinking about riding out to the coast, I am not doing anything else lately. So I got the map and figured I could make it out there in a day...and since I am already out there, I might as well just ride to Bisbee. That set a course of conversation that culminated with Steve and I leaving Portland at the end of March. The talk never slowed, I have no reason to be anywhere, so I might as well put myself into the thick of everywhere. So, I we mapped a route, figured out some equations, and at some point today I am going to tell this to Justin and to Henry, the landlord. We have already paid rent for the month of March, so that isn’t a factor, Steve should make between $1500 and $2000 in that time, much of which can be saved. I have nearly $400 worth of necklaces that can be sold along the way, the guitars can be pawned, the CD burner pawned, the bed/couch can be otherwise sold, we can amass a large sum of money in that time frame. And one of the biggest things that we came to is that we'll have no destination, we spoke of going into Mexico. There is no real plan, and that'll irk Justin, we are going to get a small stove and a pan, in short, we are preparing for ultimate self-sustainment. I don’t have a plan to tell many people either. Things aren’t up in the air really, but I have a hard time corralling all these events and writing about them. There is nothing in this life that holds a person back more than themselves, and my projects to destroy all aspects of "self" and to become one (or a whole person) are a direct example that this can be done...and things can be wonderful. Initial thoughts include ridding myself of all possession outside of necessary expidiently expeditiously and those objects which I continue to desiring to possess yet not able too at all times must be sent to Indiana. And that must be done soon. I am going to work together a package today and what makes it in there goes back...what doesn’t otherwise goes away. The only exempt items that may be sent at a later date are personal creations such as these diaries. And this morning, after already tying two necklaces, I called Stumptown and the trade of today was the record "Front Seat Solidarity by This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb" for a one-dollar cup of coffee. I now have eight left. I am moving to sell off all of my CD's and DVD's to Justin for $29 but we'll see about that, he is really defiant about paying such a paltry sum for so much entertainment. Bastard. I am so excited...Steve just got here and I think we're about to play chess. And we played some chess, someone else got in on it and I tied another necklace. After that I went to the library and Steve went his own way. The library was good, nothing exciting but I got some stuff done and then I came home. Justin was here so I proceeded to tell him of the get go. He looked in disbelief at first, but he ended up taking it amazingly well...uncharacteristically...but maybe the character is just changing? We talked about options and he is going to try to keep this house, just getting a few others involved. And he wants our help, and I'll do what I can for him. Then he went off to do his work and I began to pack. I took those things which I was going to send to my father and put them in a small box. It consists of five or six framed pictures, three completed journals (soon this one), the picture journal, Rob's painting and then just some knick-knacky things. It really isn’t much and it really is amazing to me how little space I occupy in this world. And by other standards, it may be an amazing amount (like lots) of space, but contrasting with my past and typical American, it is so little I laugh when I think about it. One thing I am unhappy with is that I'll not have a chance to type all of these diaries before leaving...there are two and a half that need to be typed, plus all the letters and what not. Again, silliness. There is so much going through my head right now. I was staring and thinking for five minutes about mail on the road and how I can at first re-direct mail to Sacramento as that is really the only stop scheduled where we'll really know anyone. But it is too much to think about, I'll just let the time slide by and slowly remove myself from society and ready myself for life. I think I am going to re-read "Into the Wild" before take off. Everything is happening. I sit here now and have a certain surity of my being. I know I can accomplish that which I set to do...and that which is endevoured shall turn to be victorious. That seems so redundant, sometimes I realize how bad I am at writing and wonder for awhile why it becomes me?
2/10
I'll just start this off saying that everyone was laughing when I left the courtroom. I woke up at 7:3a, got all dressed, woke Steve up, ate a banana and then headed off for court...It was a quick brisk ride. I figured that since I was going to court because of the way I ride my bicycle, I might as well be as aggressive as ever. I took up the entire lane all the way down, and once over the Burnside Bridge, I got in the far left lane and took it from there, everyday is CM for me. I passed the bus on the way down and kicked its ass. At the court, I looked silly as usual in all black with a bucket. This is was the third time I've come to court...this is was the second time they've searched my bucket...this was the first time they've confiscated things. America terror alert: red, in action. They said I could reclaim the bike tool and scissors on the way out. So, I put my belt on, asked the guard about my shirt (it is a cut-off and in Indiana cut-off's are a reason to be thrown out of court) and he said it'd be no problem, "you look nicer than most of the people that come in here". So I went to sit by the door to court, and it wasn’t even 8:a. Crazy. So I started to tie a necklace, the last one I had on me. I listened to people talking I thought, laughed, and tied. After awhile they allowed people into the courtroom, I sat in there and tied. I listened and I was cracking up at these conversations around me. It was probably 8:45a when the judge got in. Before that, I recounted my memories of past court experiences. One thing kept repeating "all rise for the honourable..." and by example, I'd rise. I thought to myself that I had no reason to assume that this judge would be honourable, and that the courts are a public facility why should we be forced to rise? I thought about it for awhile and when the judge entered and everyone else rose, I remained. I sat calmly and tied. He talked for awhile and dismissed many cases, he turned out to be a decent guy. After the preliminary dismissals, he did a role call and asked what we'd like to see happen. My name came and he asked the question, and I bluntly said "I'd like both citations dismissed, I ride a bicycle." He said we'd go to trial and continued. I listened to some things, understood how he worked, smiled alot and chuckled to myself a little. My trial was the second, I and Officer Bender went up and we swore to tell the truth. He went ahead with his discourse. It was good, and when he finished, I went ahead with mine. Lets just say I learned a few things. From the earlier trial I learned that the maximum speed is that which is posted and that is enforced in urban areas. In rural areas the speed maximum fluctuates from that which is posted. So I think that I cannot be cited for going to slow...which was something that semi-concerned me. And I learned from my own trial that bicycles on the roadway are considered motor vehicles. That basically completely undermined my defense. I explained why I was corking (or "impeding") and why I ran the red light--but he didn’t really care. And that is okay, he cut each cita fine in half and said I could mail in my payment. I asked about if I decided not to pay, he said I could get on a payment plan. I said "no, what is the worst that happens if these are not paid?" And he: "You will lose your license." Me: "That’s fine, I ride a bike." This is where the laughter began. He countered: :They can also go after your tax refunds, credit and other things." I debated saying that I don’t pay taxes so that isn’t an issue, but thought against it. I said "That's fine, thanks." The room was cracking up...they'll get it again on Wednesday. Oh, one thing I wanted to say to exemplify time was that I finished my necklace just before he started calling trials...I don’t know what time it was when I left. But, I just walked out, I lost, but not really...because for me, there is no loss. So I left, reclaimed my bike tool and scissors, got on my bike and tore shit up downtown, for real. I took over a lane, blew the cars away just as an extra fuck you. The judge said he understands urban bicyclists and CM, if that were true he'd not have made the point that cyclists need to follow the law. As a cyclist, I am above the law because I have to take everything into account, I know that I can (safely, not "legally")take a red light when I do. The laws of the road were not written for bicycles, rather, they were created because cars are unsafe for the people that drive them and in an effort to make things safer, they are regulated and sanctioned, made easier to understand for the "big dumb apes" that are also known as motorists. I rode up and over Burnside to Stumptown coffee. This is where I am at and it is beautiful outside...later on today I'll have some more things to answer for. Wow, what a trip. I went home and began going through all of my hemp leftovers, all the bits that I had planned to just toss. Also, with all that hemp were all the beads I felt wouldn’t work with my style of tying and the size of the hemp I have left. I began to tie bracelets, I used leftover hemp and beads previously dubbed "trash" and now I have 5 more bracelei...and many more on the way. Around two I decided to ready myself. Amazingly I wasn’t very nervous. I left around 2:45p...so, by readying myself, I really only meant finishing the bracelet I was tying and gathering my things. I got to Planned Parenthood rather quickly, they have to buzz people in on account of the right wing. They have a poster that reads: "77% of anti-abortionists are men. 100% of them will never be pregnant." I support the woman’s right to choose...I also, moreso, support education and prevention. There were three forms for me to fill out and I accomplished that quite easily...one question asked how much money is made in my household...I wrote $1500 because that is about how much Justin and Steve combine to make. The next question asked how much I make...I wrote "zero dollars." At the time it was very funny. They then asked me for $25.00 up front, in cash, which I did not have at all. So I rode to the bank and got out $27.00. I thought that was clever, as it extends...well it doesn’t extend anything, it merely allows me to have $2 on my person...$1 of which I've spent on coffee, notice the spots on the page. So I rode back and gave Lucretia (who is also very cute)$25. Then I sat. Soon enough I was called into room where Lucretia took my blood pressure 120/70 or 150/70, I cannot quite remember, but she said it was positive. Then I go tot give the urine test which has always been awkward for me. Why? At one point in my life I was asked to give urine for a physical. I couldn’t, I had recently relieved myself, so I filled the cup with water and passed it along. They figured it out, surprise. And it became another reason for my brother to make fun of me. I didn’t like urine tests for a long time and this is actually only the second (maybe third) that I've given since the water incident. This time I produced quite well. Hah. That finished I talked to some people and got some literature. That was that for the STD tests, all that was left was the AIDS test. Steve had told me that a cotton swap would be inserted into my urethra (penial hole) and that it would be pain like I had never felt. I was tense about that moment, of course it never came. Lucretia retrieved me from the waiting room and sat me down for the AIDS test. Then she drew some blood which wasn’t anything at all...it was a relatively small needle inserted into my left arm at the "E" tattoo. That was that, it was like nothing. I was then talked to again, then set free to go. Then I inquired about payment. Ring this, ring that, $73.00, I was blown away. I asked what the sliding scale was as I had written down zero income. They took it as I had $1500 income monthly, we hashed some things out and it became free. That was unexpected, I had readied for about $25.00. So, I gave a donation of $15.00 and was off. Uncle Sam covered this one for me, thanks. For the all in all, this was probably unnecessary, but I feel 100% better about doing it, this knowledge will be well received. The people there are really nice and I wholly misunderstand the extreme right wing. The entire operation was kind of like a daze for me, it seemed as if I was being too careful, but things are great. In 10-14 days I'll get back all results and I guess I'll know where I stand. Everything feels like it is congealing, coming together and the future has a very positive inviting face right now. Oh, one more good thing is that Justin did laundry today and included in his load all of our socks and underwear...which haven’t been washed for at least two weeks, so this is welcome. I have developed a sore inside my mouth that I think may be cancer, I've heard that gum cancer appears in little white dots...and that is what I have. I was going to ask today, but I never felt as if I was talking to an actual physician, so I didn’t mention it. Hopefully it goes away as my testing schedule probably wont quicken its space. The last physical I've had was when I was sixteen or seventeen, a long time. All this doctor stuff makes me consider so many things, things that I probably shouldn’t even allow to my mind, as there is little I can do aside from worry and speculate. Just a quick note before I head off to bed, Justin and I were discussing the situation of things with Steve and I leaving...he said that "I was taking the easy way out." If he only knew. His life is easy, nintendo and meat, that’s what it is all about. My life isn’t hard, but definitely not the easy way out. (Pasted in here is the receipt from Planned Parenthood, and the voided check for $73)
2/11
To continue with last night, I accosted Justin. I let him know that he must make a decision on staying at the house, because we need to have thirty days notice if we are leaving. He kind of tensed out. Very defensive, yet attacking. It was weird. I just wanted him to understand that no matter what happens there will be no money from Steve or I for March--I paid that in January. I continue to be dumb as to whether or not he gets what I am saying. And he acknowledges that that is my train of thought. So, maybe. Then he laid it out somewhat like this: "I know you are leaving, I understand that, I just cant work that abruptly, I cannot make a decision like that in 36 hours, you are taking the easy way out, I wont do that." By "easy way" he meant ditching the place and riding off toward the sun (then cutting south...). Whereas the "hard way" is to stick it out and remain a pawn in society...in chess terms that is how it is; he the pawn, me the knight. I just want to re-iterate or maybe even write for the first time why I am leaving. I do this because Justin assumed it was all because I don’t have any money...that is merely part of the equation...perhaps the activator, but? So, right now without a job to stick me and glue to a certain sector of society, I am free to move about this environment. But this freedom is a closing hole to ground zero, it is closing tighter and tighter to nothing each second I don’t capitalize on it...and soon enough it will be entirely closed--breaking point--time to re-enter into society with a job and start paying some bills and such. Right now my circle is half open. I waited long enough and then propped it open for a month and a half. In this month and a half, should I show any signs of slowing that prop will be dislodged and the hole will quickly begin to shrink again. So, we have the hole, ready to be taken, that is my point, but many people reach this, what is the catalyst? The lack of funds for prolonging the "dream" come into play. If I wait for the hole to close and do nothing, I am faced with forced homelessness, dejection, longing, a whole list of negative traits. If I accept and move ahead in life, choose these traits and put a positive face on them, I come out the victor. I broke it down like this: I have the perfect situation, no job, no money, a craft, an easily ended living situation, the desire, the will, and the stupidity to get out of "anti-life" and into real life. Justin may never completely understand, he went to college, he is smart and I am stupid. A certain degree of unlearnedness is required, school is a means of brainwashing and hypnosis, he believes that he is living the hard life...and who am I to break him? No one. That is who I'd like to be, nobody, to no person. I would like to be able to live with the knowledge that it is for me, that I am not doing this for any other person. It doesn’t bother me if people try to live vicariously through me, as long as I live. Sometimes I believe I live more than the average person and I guess that leaves room and reason for any persons to accomplish their dreams through my actions. So, anyway I ended our conversation last night trying to ease his tension, telling him that there is no reason to be tense or worried, everything will work itself out blah blah blah. Then I went to bed. I never know.