1998

mepnoel '97

23rd   d e c e m b e r

22nd   d e c e m b e r

good am.
the hubub has begun. christmas has an altogether quite a new meaning
for us this year. my seventh and last voyage of 1997 will begin tomororw.
have i mentioned the voyages? the pieces may be hard to fit together in
any logical way, but they are there and they are real.

how can i be sure that everything needing saying is said? i cannot.
but as much as things are ending they begin anew. we all know that this
is the nature of things.

well i'd stay here but i must move so that i can sit somewhere else.

"OFFICIAL BILLINGS SONG"
please never forget the deep feeling you have when you hear this song
and remember the love you felt then...
"It was us baby way before them and we're still together
and i meant, every word i said when i said that i loved you
i meant that i loved you forever" (REO speedwagon)
written jan.1982, last year of HS.
... i didn't have to write it down.

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later in the evening...

i grab my messy locks and wrap the pink fuzzy thing around them behind me.
looking up into the mirror, i peak from under the strands hanging in my eyes
and i see some nice, smiling blue eyes. loreena chants from the other room,
and that sense of peace he was referring to comes over me. time, place,
what does it matter if your essence is true?

ah to always have this.

i bow my head and think about the day's events. i suppose i spend alot of time
thinking. why does prescribed 'laudable moral practice' have to disclude shopping?
and work? socially acceptable, it's OK? All linked in to our set of common beliefs.
shopping is evil, waste not want not, selfish hedonism, praise of objects, give to those
less fortunate, simplify your life, money is the root of all evil, what's the didilio?
let's say our sorry souls are already pathetic. let's say this human embodiment is
self serving to begin with. let's explain away what we need to. lets top off our Royal
intricate Freudian analysis with delusions of grandeur and wash it down with some
social theory explaining the effects of champagne on sexual behavior.

ah, just let me out.

you know, i've got to look at things from all angles. that makes doing them,
the long way around. remembering words succintly when they affect me emotionally;
turning people into complicated calculus, and always, always, wanting more.

excited about nothing,
ain't that the best though?

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21st   d e c e m b e r

he thinks of me as time draws near;
we raise our hands in cup of cheer
the passion finds it's time to pray
love taken, given, every day.

rejoice in joy, repent in hate
and gather those who fear
they know of things we could not know
and raise a voice silent to hear

a private time aboard this ship
moments move the lonely
lust spares us all
we hold the held and hope they heal
we save ourselves
to break the fall.

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20^th   d e c e m b e r

ahah! playing again, huh?

peaceful, old-fashioned saturday morning. mr. jazz radio and mrs. blueberry pancakes.
sunshine, road trip, christmas, and california.
being 'on vacation' in the snow, what a novelty.
planning the getaway in traffic, packing early.
bellys full, day begun, songs to sing and goosebumps.
thanks God for that.

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19^th   d e c e m b e r

le dix-neuf decembre.

"when you come back around
after painting the town;
you see i'm almost over you"

today is going to be sad lyrics day. i hope you know the melody to these because if you are over
a certain age, they will cause a small tear in your heart which somehow makes one feel alive.
i always thought i'd never been heartbroken but if that is true then why do i understand it,
empathy perhaps.
i wonder what increased empathy is/has caused/prevented me from?
i suppose it's caused more than prevented.

more shooting in this place-when is someone going to do something about it?
or, perhaps in all the richness, they need something to fear? the lack of true basic humanity
is apalling, unbelievable at least. needing entertainment while eating, even, is the most abhorant.
i can't explain why, it just is.

maintenant, le francais retrouve son allure "Francais" , que je n'ai jamais connu?

i suppose a bit of french in the sad lyrics day is fitting, n'est ce pas?

warmer now, the fan helps. the kitchen counter is back, and i believe we survived yet another
week. the bee-time approaches quickly. i am not happy for it, i am afraid.

oops. getting late.
i just need something more entertaining these days.
oh well, life will have to do.

;-)

"as long as the stars shine down from the heavens,
as long as the river runs to the sea;
I'll never get over you
gettin' over me"

i'm singin now,
to j, if you can hear me.

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they really are robots.

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minx \'minks\ n: a pert girl

pert \ adj 1: saucily free and forward : impudent 2: stylishly trim: jaunty 3: lively

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18^th   d e c e m b e r

what a topsey turvey time, with life things so unsure- all the people who you used to know are somewhere over there and you are dreaming of an egyptian dance wearing sparkling dancing shoes.
half of you wants to quit it all and eat coconuts under a coconut tree the other half wants to sail around the world in 80 days, then come back and become the president, and the last half wants to be a missionary in a far off land. this was so easy you say, easy? not exactly. but those sparkling deep turquoise dancing shoes were so beautiful...

so you reach out in email make connections for a moment
and are still left sitting by yourself staring at a monitor inside a vibrating room with a tilted roof. you know we all just want somewhere where it's warm and everyone loves us. people's lives slide by each other tangentially ...they eat candy for breakfast and have delusions of grandeur and you don't know whether to pity them or what. how can i be sitting here bored, when there is so much that could be done. much love to give, much lives to save....do they want saving who knows.

thinking now of K and K and the music that takes me to work. does that world still exist? did it ever? does it represent a feeling that could only exist while looking into the past? is this supposed to comfort me? i know it couldn't exist again but knowing it did hurts. i think about it only long enough to remember it.

i used to spend a lot of time thinking about those times, all those times that i cannot go back to. another growing up lesson but a better one than others have to learn.

like i said still sitting here with a sore butt. kind of one of the shoesa days, feeling so rich i'm sickened by it. feeling paranoid and powerful at the same time. should stop complaining and do something. am i lazy? extremes extremes extremes can get you no where and you don't understand why...

yeah yeah, want it, got it, want more. moody moody moody me.

and everyone wants a piece and they don't. giving too much can be disappointing. what is the ultimate in giving and how do we know when someone else has given it to us? where's the earth-shattering kaboom? there's supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom

rubbing my softer face, i am still thankful.

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17^th   d e c e m b e r

later...

wow. reading back i can smell the past.
what the hell were we thinking?
how on earth did i let him leave?
what on earth have we done?

what a messy page this is.
june was beautiful, when i had the passion to spare.

sitting on the floor, i remember that room so clearly, so dearly.
the smell of 'old' and the chill from under.
i guess you may know it well.
gosh, holding these two ideas in my hands is a heavy task.
how can we actually be doing something and yet feel like we have
lost??? it's impossible. these are the hardest times.

sitting here 9 to 5 i bascially just get a sore ass.

writing ordinary stuff here makes me feel ordinary.
and i don't consider myself ordinary. neither should you.
not because i'm not, but why should i?
no one is, and if you think you are
it's only because someone has told you that.
give it a try, think of yourself as out-of-the ordinary.
kind of gives one motivation i think.

so let's all write some out-of-the ordinary stuff.
get around to it people. write that card!
it'll end up in someone's hand. 3,000 miles away.
it'll make someone smile, really it will.
think of it as adding positive energy to the planet,
isn't that powerful?
they'll pin it on a board in a cafeteria.

not that i do everything i set out to.
i've a disconnected CD drive.
i don't phone too much.
i don't jog.

the point is, you get out of it what you put in.
cliche after cliche, we re-learn.
i'm not saying anything new.
i haven't reinvented anything.
everything i say has been said before-
just in the same way that trees have been climbed,
seas have been sailed,
and ginger cookies baked.

no i have not said anything new,
nor brilliant.
but i have said it.

have we adapted? how can we adapt while we are busy learning?

are we playing nice with the other kids? i think so.

do we like it? what's to like?

do we miss snow? unlikely.

the bees come. the bees go.

ciao.






 these little boxes appeared. symbols, lined up in a row.

she made another sale yesterday.
i'm starting to think maybe she gives them away.
he works two jobs.
he pays the rent.
it's about exchange, i give something to you,
and i get something.

i guess it's still a sagitarrius kind of day.

16^th   d e c e m b e r

i guess it's a sagitarrius kind of day.

essentially, one interspaces
work-related events with non-work related events,
and eats and sleeps around them.
a few tough days pre- and post this one,
just feeling up in the air; needing to be busier.
i've no christmas baking to do.
the lights are strung.
no snow to shovel and no parties to plan.
leaving only the gifts to buy-makes everything
seem so very plastic.
relishing in the joys of the little ones,
i must make their excitement mine.

well the male man monster (mmm) as he has named himself is pleading me to be quick here (what? no peace) but what about all the stuff i wanted to write about music and newyorkers and neighbors and wallace and gromit ? ? ?

;

;

15^th   d e c e m b e r

the sugar and coffee are still sitting in the black containers. i know them.
how much constancy do i need, anyway? the sweet taste of fresh java on my
lips. the lights down the hall blinking in turn, our tribute to a lonely season, for some.
and we? filtering through laundry, paperwork, traffic, shoppers, toys, and dreams of
old cars, another weekend has ended.

and today? wondering what i need. or shall i correct and say, what i don't need.
that is easier. yes, yes, things are well. but there is still something left for me to
put my finger on. all what is written below applies, and then some more. we have
seen the chosen ones shopping at saks fifth avenue, we have been the chosen ones.
more joy to give than to receive? hmmm...

the hot stuff wakes me. what comforts me today? does my guilt shine through?
i just can't decide where pride and selfish should meet.

little chills now, some life returns to my fingers and soul too. remembering the love,
the devotion that we share. it is the sharing that is the miracle.

LONDON MOO!

;

;

;

14^th   d e c e m b e r

happy #65 to papa!
always my papa, and without time.
love, from your 'lost angel'

;

;

;

12^th   d e c e m b e r

you get to the point where you are looking for more.
you <need> to be connected, updated, stimulated, all the time,
and to greater and greater degrees. books are not enough,
newspapers have long since been discarded.
even the online information doesn't come at you fast enough.
so you create your own.
a place where you feel attached-an umbilical cord of sorts.

ow. my head hurts. ow. i am itchy. ow.
i hope it goes away.
the coffee should help, at least i hope it does.

look, have a nice day ok?

10^th   d e c e m b e r

chilly morning as i think about the events leading me here. a sense of positiveness
has stuck with me lately, and for that i am greatful. there is probably a pattern, but
who is that interested? even i found fascinating people, funny people, intelligent
people, whom i now only read on occasion. it is not a novel, it is not a feature flim.
and even if it were, they end after a matter of hours. but we keep on, all of us.

if for no other reason, when i sit here i get to think of certain people. kind of like
a shrine, i wonder what they are doing, how they feel. i think about myself and
how i interact with the world, in my little private space here as well as out
there. it's not about being someone different, or someone you're not,
it's just about using that little tiny, unobtrusive chisel,
to be who you are.