inspired again [?]

life cycles back. it's the pull between wanting to just pick up and start all over again, or be inspired now. today it rained and i chose to be inspired, to create, to be owned by something other than my dark thoughts for a change. just what the doctor ordered.

surreality

maybe dali was right in his depictions of a withered and puzzling world.

all is surreal. the strange moments i encounter are multiplying. in surreal lighting, the visibility of light rays in the fog, the idea of all kinds of waves rolling through the air: radio, tv, micro, cell phones... heavy traffic on the highway at night, seeing something the wrong way and being totally bewildered until your brain and your eyes sync and all makes sense again.

dreams are killer. when dreams start to mesh with a waking surreality: it's dangerous. so powerful and outrageous that even if you can actually piece together what was real and what was a dream, that what you remember is so odd and awesome that you can't stop thinking about it.

lately i have been feeling that the most realistic situations and scenes are the most surreal. i'm not even on drugs it's just a weird phenomena. or a weird mood. or i have just been seeing a lot a weird things recently.

august & thunderstorms

august is the kairos month. time suspends: the days are hot and muggy, and this pause breeds idle inspiration. life is like molasses, whatever is moving is sluggish and daunting.

i feel as though i am on the verge of something big. like a bright sunny afternoon when the earth is dry and cracked, and almost instantly dark clouds appear on the western horizon and the thick smell of rain hints at the promise of a watered earth. you know something big is about to happen- the sky is black and the edge of the clouds glow pink and orange with the last of the swallowed sun. this is my moment. now. something is coming- a much needed something. a very much unknown something. i wish i had clouds or a scent to clue me in.

you again

my dreams are a cruel form of reality. torturous and unending.

titus 3

my new favorite corner of the bible. so often overlooked, but it says it all right there.

strange how among the ancient pages lies so much philosophy, prophesy, emotion, history, rebuke, profound thought and absolute comfort.

God is good.

and?

reorienting myself with reality. ugh- it's like a vortex back into the abyss of how life is required to be. you want that $80 a day you've got to work for it. no extended vacations in paradise. the cost is sanity and it only took 24 hours to lose mine.

what should be required in life is time spent in a place as undescribable as lake whittaker. unfortunately, those in charge of our survival don't seem to agree.

by the way, i am writing a book. who knows what it will be about but i'm on the brink. just might have to disappear from society and monetary well-being for a brief spell. miss me but please buy the hardcover version.

if anyone can counter with a better offer i'm yours.

train song

travel is inspiration with a price. though i am presently loathing this form of transportation, there is something about the late afternoon sun warming the dusty, fabric seats of the quiet, napping rail car as you glide along the tracks to boston (though when gliding become more of jolting the romanticism rapidly fades).

i am becoming increasingly suspicious of my future. I feel I am doomed to travel alone on smelly trains, reading novels with pretty covers forever.

uncertainty is like a drug

"too low to find my way, too high to wonder why" [thievery corp.]

it's now into the lazy daze of august— the time of limbo between a neverending summer and the curse of obligatory autumn— the last of the days before the begin-again of september when schedules fill and motivations rise to the occassion of school and work and etceteras. it's the daunting "decisions have to be made" and the last chance to procrastinate life. and at my age and in my situation, it's a time of heightened uncertainty.

for me this uncertainty has evolved into a kind of drug, and i'm an addict. i've moved and changed so many times i've grown to thrive on unpredictability. it's glorious not to know what's next— to guess and dream and try to put your life together: like a jigsaw puzzle thrown out on the table ready to piece together again. there's a kind of r u s h to it all.

it's not knowing what to do or where to go when what to do and where to go is a whole realm of possibility set before you. i mean, i can do a n y t h i n g i want but what is that? not fair. an evil duality exists here... and i'm comin off the high.