• so well meaning
• notes on open casket viewerships and ships that leave peopled up once the earth has all been used up and mass suicides and plagues have taken place. these things, by 2123, happen. shit. happens. all kinds of shit happens.
• old school. shaking hands with shaky hands. sweaty palms. the nervousness shows in your voice, also.
• a character study. low self esteem issues. this man, all men, have issues and staring problems, and are addicted to solving problems (so to create more and stay really busy?).
• a lot of good things are presented, presented to help, but are ignored and the usual drags on and on. any new comer is floored by this “third world.” my god, how you treat, neglect your people. how you make a big show of caring at just the right time but in truth do not listen to their needs. how you let them die. premature.
• help me to help you.
• I must remember… all kinds of things. there’s plenty to take care of.
• I must remember to write because it is much like meditation, it’s a way of processing what is in you and just what exactly is going wrong and should be resolved or healed.
• we are human beings that are hindered, feel guilt, and cause pain. we do things thoughtlessly and make mistakes. one such mistake was to join a goddamn cult in my early years, of course being naive and not realizing at the time exactly what was happening, the damage it was doing to my psyche. later, a new meditation was, yes, individuality, my own, which led me to drop it all.
• you became an atheist?
• I may as well have become an atheist. I fumbled the ball. I dropped what I believed for years. I analyzed it agonizingly on the bus and on the train and in walking in the rain with my umbrella, crossing the bridge with the snow falling, the sleet pelting, and in Roanoke, all those apartments I lived in that were barely renovated. in my mind, it all came together when I was living on the outside, outside of that society, when I had breathing room (though with asthma, it wasn’t easy). by the time we adopted our second cat, she still got the name Kalika. still these remnants from the old school.
• bio: I am allergic to cats. someone said, Get rid of the cats. I told her that’s like saying, get rid of your baby. there was her sixteen month-old, and I said, Can you part with her? well then, be sensitive to my affections just the same. it’s practically just the same… for my little bio in small scale, should say I grew up in the Silver Spring suburbs (Montgomery County) outside of DC and became influenced by many underground cultures, and moved around a bit in some sort of search for truth or peace and have been searching ever since. I write with the idea (fear) that I may never become the kind of writer I hope to be: accomplished, published, etc. I hate the police, but my own lacking a whole lot more. I am a cat martyr. they sleep comfortable; I wake up in the night short of breath to drink tea, to kick out writing sessions. I repetitively have taken on jobs at print shops that in my mind resemble sweat shops. certainly employers consider the typesetting and design to be grunt work and treat their employees accordingly. I continue to search out and find another way for myself. I’m aware I’m in a rut or have fallen into a ditch.
• if I become a “writer,” just what will I write?
• perhaps american buddhism is a really good thing. it takes the best things from another ideology to improve on it’s own way and there is no tyrant hovering over saying it has to be done any different. women truly have the same shot as men. is this true? is this true in anarchism?
• the eight ball says, I see a *haircut* in your future. the eight ball now has a nine-hundred number, charges by the minute and raises kids onto ponies squealing with joy. kids really like ponies. ponies and living rooms do not mix. kids must settle for the lincoln logs. I see lincoln logs in your future. oh, shut up.
• this monday the eight ball was bought out by walmart. when eight balls go wrong.
• all employees must wash their hands and this is final. this is good for the self esteem issue you’ve been talking about. um…
• cell phones are really loud. and go off in very echoey places. mine is set to vibrate and when a call comes in I get up to answer it outside for some reason I guess because I tend to talk louder on the phone than a person sitting directly across from me. can you hear me? can you hear me now? goddamn it, can you hear me now? can you fucking hear me now? apple has put out an new iPod and a phone that runs iTunes so that you can listen to Dido some more.
• I am studying/observing and thinking about how I can change. one day we will all turn into robots and live forever. right now we are all vampires but somehow still dying.