november    October mEp


            October 27 1997

            chilly morning, in more ways than one.
            a phone call from a brother leaving me
            pensive.

            i'm just going to pense, then.


            October 26 1997

              "this peaceful, sunny sunday morning is
              as good a time as any to continue my screed.
              With the morning jet fuel smell mostly
              subsided, and most of the neighbors
              still in bed, I can steal a few quiet
              moments in the sunshine to pen a few more
              words."

            i then go on to mention some of the kind
            and humble individuals who have been such
            great sources of inspiration to me-and they
            are many. what a beauftiful gift they have
            been to me, and as much a gift, my ability to
            recognize and thank them. i feel so happy to
            be able to cite such qualities as theirs,
            as motivational to me. yes, i get pleasure
            out of my own love for others.

            "love isn't something you find,
            it's something that you do"

            happy sunday,
            peace.


            October 24 1997

            it chronicles daily ups and downs.
            it's not a great literary work;
            nor any profound insight into my inner psyche;
            often, more often than not, related to sleep
            deprivation, some days are groggier than others.

            then there's the todays.
            the confidence days. the awake days.
            the buzzing around before 8 am looking
            for something needed in the drugstore.
            the walking down the sidewalk singing days.
            the i'm here! take me or leave me! days
            because i know who i am, and i like who i am.

            these are the best days.


            october 22

            home or not, the world inside my mind
            where christopher robin lives is still
            far, far, away.

            you want to know what that means?
            it means the past is still the past...
            and it only gets further.

            i miss the further away the most.

            "and it goes on and on,
            watching the river run;
            further and further from things that we've done
            leaving them one by one.
            and we have just begun;
            watching the river run
            listening and learning and yearning
            run river run."

            -ken loggins 1972,74,etc.


            october tuesday 21

            there are certain things that you never forget.
            those actions, primal and primative, which evoke
            such basic or instinctive reactions in us.
            let's group them.
            or, allow me to.
            when i see veins, i am piercing them with a needle.
            some are 18 gaugers, some 23, but they all must be
            pierced, that red gold must flow. sounds twisted,
            but i used to take blood. don't laugh, it paid very
            well. of course that's not why i did it, i wouldn't
            have known good pay from kraft dinner.
            but each one had a different flow rate;
            each skin it's own resistance;
            each point where the beveled edge sat, precise.
            i will never forget this,
            and somewhere deep inside of me,
            i wish i could do it again.


            october monday 20

            infusing, now i sit in the dark.
            the lamp, not plugged in, has made it.
            trapsing around this place;
            we visited a dried lake, a damn,
            saw horses, and i'm still not awake.
            i'm sitting here waiting to wake up.
            we drove the tangled freeways,
            and eventually made our way home.
            sunday was the cleaning day,
            the hanging stuff day,
            the cooking day.

            (shh) i get the sneaking feeling
            that people steal your ideas here.
            i get the feeling that i am who i am,
            i know what i know, and i live how i live.

            you still gotta eat. you still gotta clean.
            you most certainly still gotta work.
            really, not too much changes 3,000 miles from home.

            but what's all this about sundries?


            october sunday 19

            yeah, we like each other. what a feeling.
            hangin'g out, cutting carrots.
            i'm wrapping myself in it now,
            the organization, the orderliness,
            the focus that brings me peace.
            the men talk; my nails are growing,
            and he's got a really good sense of humor.


            there ain't many times when i feel that i know the love
            in the love songs better than they do;
            but now's one of them.

            fuck, it's peaceful here.


            October 17, 1997

            an actual bird chirps outside, i think i smell the salt.
            working work accomplishing stuff not sure what yet;
            will hopefully find out soon. driving down the freeway at night
            it could be anywheres, America - payless and food4less;
            who has created this mega-life? who would want such an
            exageration of themselves? are they so comfortable with BIG?
            we conclude that yes, it's different here.

            there's always stuff to look at; new stuff; mountains, even
            now that the winds have blown the smog away. the sky is
            blue and the water too, and the speckled clouds of the setting
            sky lit up by the big light bulb far away, so beautiful, so beautiful,
            i must admit.

            but it's HOT.

            and it's freeday!


            October 16, 1997

            He's the type said she;
            peaceful dreams awake me smiling;
            a source of stress i attempt to shoe like a fly;
            it's even less important.
            These are the types of stresses i must learn to disregard.
            is it possible to have such power over oneself?
            It must be.

            Confidence head-butting;
            Emotion against Ego;

            it is comfortable here;
            my hair is too long,
            we are a bit disorganized for this life.
            teaching teachers.

            the coffee not too hot, and me running late.
            it's a new day today, remember those words.
            the only day you can tend. today, poots.
            it's blank, today-no matter what you've already
            filled it with. it hasn't happened yet.

            photos, maybe soon.
            potstickers?
            yum yum.


            October 15, 1997

            Greetings. Fully caffeinated now what is on my mind?
            Learning and only growing he and I watch he and I.
            Watching and waiting, and dreaming, and goaling.
            Both of us teaching now, is it because we are patient?
            math and software.
            math and software.
            that makes me smile.

            7:45 now I really must run,
            but good morning to the world
            and good morning to the sun.


            the bent become straight and the lines grow askew
            a vision of tomorrow, though today is still new
            while searching for answers we sway and we stick
            we leave angles bended, our hearts growing think


            later today...

            we lose sight of goals
            we drown in our own minds;
            we forget what we're grabbing for
            and we think in a straight line.

            the day that started out sickly
            is coming to an end.
            less sickly now, i'm collecting
            what's left of my thoughts...
            remnants of what is there
            pieces of what is here;
            conversations wrapped in love;
            real life.

            the telephone calls are cheaper now; we talk.
            the food's not that bad, and it really is hot outside.

            if you don't think about it, we're just here.
            if you think about it, we're not there.

            but certain things begin to mean more;
            was the point of the excercise.
            certain things mean nothing,
            that's what you learn.
            what you leave are the certain things.



            OCTOBER 13 1997

                groggy morning now.
                some kind of virus has entered me
                and i must fight to keep it under control.
                even though i slept the required number of hours
                my eyes close easily, my arms ache.
                i won't let it.

            and a long long walk last eve;
            the setting sun to our right
            and on the way back,
            the crashing waves in the dark.
            the people talking talking as they passed us,
            the football games and the dinners.

            and dreams, dreaming.

            stress, still, my shoulders arched.
            giving me something else to think about
            than what the morning dopamine insists on.
            staring blankly at one spot in front of me.
            my hair, once a source of comfort,
            now stressful to me and getting in my way.
            my energy, once focused is now dispersed.
            trying to focus on one thing for long is not possible.
            this is why i dispise being sick, why i avoid all situations
            which might bring me here. the late nights, the stress,
            the cold drafts and the crowded places. ok se then
            what brings me here? oh yes, saturday night being
            a hero. i am the one who knows what my body can
            and will put up with. i do know better.


            "love isn't something you find,
            it's something that you do"



            OCTOBER 12 1997
            i like to sit here.
            sometimes, i have a hard time
            deciding what to write.
            but i enjoy sitting here,
            by myself,
            in the relative darkness,
            staring my thoughts in the face.
            my thoughts ramble, they dart.
            one moment peaceful;
            the next fearful.
            they always return to places
            i recognize...and maybe that is
            why i like it here.


            we interact...
            not always, but we are able to.
            and we walked into the grocery
            store and there they were.
            a high five and some discussion
            about sleeping in. a woman was
            watching, how was she to know?
            yet still, there is more than
            meets the eye.

            people will tell you things that
            they themselves wish they knew.
            they'll tell you who they wish
            they were, what they wish they
            see. well i wish i could change
            that but instead, i'll just stick
            to seeing it for them.


            OCTOBER 11 1997

            dfsdfasfd


            OCTOBER 10 1997

            6.55 am
            squeezing my hands between my knees
            they are not cold but i am shuddering.
            i am tired but i do not yawn. my eyes
            sting somewhat as i sit and begin to
            wake. the jet engines in the distance
            tell of comings and goings, like the
            bees which come in and out of the hive.
            when the sound gets very distant, a
            mild longing in my inner, to reach and
            bring back the comfort, what is going
            far away. this concept has struck a
            chord now in my heart and i can feel
            a saddness. i reflect on it, and i stop.
            but now comes another bee home.

            rubbing my eyes the new sights and
            sounds run through my mind.
            for now they are only that, new.
            neither ugly nor beautiful-they
            just are. but the tastes are new too
            and they are the third dimension of
            this universe. the z axis, the plane
            that creates the puzzle, not completes it.

            i yawn.


            OCTOBER 9 1997

            the little ball starts to roll.
            the first two days were limited;
            i was cocooned and i can't say
            whether
            PMS or new surroundings
            did it. let's decide on a bit of
            both. yesterday opened up and
            started to chat. this led places.
            bulding, rolling, growing.

            l e t 's     h a v e    f u n.

            what else can i say, the environment
            is becoming more homey, the way things
            work, less strange. more stuff goes on
            here. good stuff, bad stuff - it's not
            a judgement call, just a fact. oldest
            cliche in the book rings true, people
            are in fact people. i still haven't
            met any really bad ones. or not that
            i would notice.

            r e m e m b e r,   p e r s p e c t i v e.

            "when the sun came up this morning,
            i took the time to watch it rise
            and as it's beauty struck the darkness
            from the skies, i thought; how small
            and unimportant, all my troubles seem
            to be, and how lucky another day
            belongs to me.
            And as the sleepy world around me
            woke up to greet the day,
            all it's silent beauty seemed to say;
            so what, my friend, if all little dreams
            you haven't realized...just look around you
            you've got a whole new day to try.
            Today is Mine
            Today is Mine
            To do with what I will.
            Today is Mine - My own special cup to fill.
            To die, a little,
            that i might learn to live
            to take from life,
            that i might learn to give
            Today is Mine.

            Like most men, I curse the person
            void of peace of mind.
            I race my thoughts beyond tomorrow
            and vision there a sweeter time,
            but as i view this day around me
            i can see the fool i've been
            for today's the only GARDEN we can tend..."

                      author tba



            october 7 ...1997

            dreaming again now of dancing strange dancing with people watching us
            and of bizarre shower stalls owned by large women...

            and some time passed and some relief was had. nervous now over, i await
            the effects of the infusion. waking too early, but to watch the sun come up
            in a span of two minutes is interesting. the woman spoke, despite her pre-
            occupied thoughts of something she did not reveal. she was kind, she was
            human. the binders in front of us reminded me strongly of college days, but
            the tone of her voice never so. systems put in place to protect become abused
            and then obligatory. do they still protect? methinks they do. i am glad to hear
            that the radiation never gets out. wouldn't you be. remember to bring cds but
            you don't have speakers...or yes, you do, actually.

            dreams   dreams are what you need before reality hits.
            dreams are like small puffs of images, secret shows for you alone...
            the only true privacy

            a quiet day overall but informative. rushing at midday to open a bank account
            and spending the afternoon mostly quiet, reading, writing, thinking. the
            independance is somewhat surprising though very familiar. comforting too.
            badged, numbered, and PC-ed, i'm all set as they say here. the differences
            are really becoming more transparent as i poot along. sure, the cereal's a bit
            sweeter, the beer waterier, and the bills greener...but in summation i see more
            of the sum. of things. the connectivity and the similarities. no not because of
            some kind of protective mechanism, but just because. we are all human, afterall.


            october 6 1997

            Day One:

            remnants of greek festivals
            and nervously i await the java.
            6:35 the sun still sleeps and
            6:42 it's awake again. my week
            of repose ended, and B's words
            ring through my mind. words that
            tell the truth; but i am bigger
            than words, than images we conjure.
            the unknown doesn't have to be so
            scary, who says.

            i left the comfy place.
            for what? only time will tell.

            and in-between, suppers of spaghetti,
            sometimes. perhaps, on the barbaque;
            lamb. merlot from ralphs, round the
            clock. a new brita filter at food4less,
            and sarks to infuse me. a balcony mop,
            and one of those brushes with the long
            yellow handle and white bristles.

            we'll just poot along and see what
            happens, you and me. ok?


            october 5 1997

            more packing dreams.
            how does it know that
            the packing is over?
            the saying goodbye,
            the leftover tupperware,
            the office mugs, the piles
            of clothing. tights, socks,
            t-shirts, more tights.
            not running through
            hallways looking for that
            classroom - not running
            after a missed bus.
            packing, stuffing, packing.

            and a short excursion took place.
            still eating dinner outside in shorts.
            lovely things to behold. lovely smells
            to inhale. creatures to watch.

                  (photo links soon)

            ...we're still connected to that city.
            nothing will change that.
            that is a comforting thought.
            we can be both.

            nuf for sunday.


            october 3rd 1997.

            happy mEp-iversary
            happy mEp-iversary
            happy mEp-iversary
            HAppy mEp-iversary!


            october second still...

            so while eyes read
            i'll type away. the
            chidrens' sleep the
            dogs at play. an
            evenin's come
            an evenin's peace
            he plans the math
            i lays my wreath.

            a lives a change
            a new abode
            a settled for a spell
            them planes they putt
            and move along- to where
            the schedule says they're gone



            october 2nd 1997.

            now with a valid audience,
            i aspire to capture more.
            more plastic, more sunny days,
            more real life. watch me try.

            this room is the messiest.
            but with a great view of
            the front door, who could
            complain? being the spare
            room, the garage, the TV room,
            the ironing room, the computer
            room and the extra box room,
            it's got it's work cut out for it.

            last nite some hanging took place
            mapping out the walls and crannies
            it's quite amazing what hanging things
            will do. must be rooted in civility,
            the concept of pictures on walls making
            a place homier. bizarre, methinks.

            making my way through a major java buzz,
            i try to fix my thoughts on something.
            not managing to sit on a particular style
            just now, a bunch of stuff has happened
            since i arrived at this place. how did i
            arrive at this place. why. it feels right
            though. it really does and that is a pleasant
            surprise to me. contemplating a short trip
            over the upcoming weekend.

            gosh to put all the thoughts of all the things
            and all the people who might read this is very
            difficult and not even the point. but that is
            how it feels. that summer, now over, those
            friends-excuse me for the temporary coldness.

            perhaps this font another example of it.

            geesh. there's more. somehow it's thursday
            already. the laundry is done, shoeracks
            bought, and yummy meals cooked. the freeways
            are fast, the public friendly, and sales
            sales. the air is warm and often smelly.
            there's an up and there's a down. it's life.
            and life's alive. welcome to it.

            welcome.

            vellkomen!


            october 1 1997.

            this is october. what
            colors does it bring?
            like snow it falls in
            wintertime and flowers
            bloom in spring.

            this is october. but
            none outside my door;
            the lillies bloom
            the warm wind blows
            and biting cold no more.


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