[ 10:40am CST ]

[ 10:40am CST ]

It's a new year! I new day! I new life! I'm excited, this new beginning is more than symbolic and began before New Years was ever real. New Years Day. Time to meditate on the fortunes of yourself and those around you for the coming year. It's a good thing to reach out and look ahead into the future for a year. To let your mind bend time forward and figure out what you want and where you want to be in the next year. I want to be out of Chicago, I want to be living out life in a new town witha new girlfriend and making big new peices of art. It's exciting to think about. I'm curious, if anyone out there is reading this and feels like responding, mail me and let me know what you're ambitions for the coming year are. This is a new day my friends, it's time to take all of those abmitions that were sitting on the back burner for whatever reason and dust them off. Look at them and see how it might be possible to make them real. So today, I look into the crystal ball and try to decypher what direction life will take in the next few days/weeks/months. I have a general idea of where I want to be but no clue as to how to get there. I'm leaving a lot of things open. So hopefully over the short term some things will make themselves apparent as to how to get there.

more soon... I need caffeine... j-
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[ 10:39am CST ]

[ 10:39am CST ]

Everybody notices the change. Some can verbalize it and do, others can't and just give me strange glances that let me know they aknowledge without the congratulatory words. It's a half understanding, more instinct than intellect. That's the first clue that things have changed.

Coming off the New York high is difficult. More difficult than heroin, or so I presume. No magic today on the bus or the train, nothing mystical about the world, just cold. Cold that seeps into your bones cold, cold that burns your nostrils dry to the point of bloody nose cold. I'm saturated with it, and I don't want to wake up with it day in and day out anymore. It's in the 50's where I want to be and that's a good temperature. I'm comfortable with that. Even colder I can tolerate, but this is ridiculous.

Woke up lonely again. I imagine that it will get easier in time. It's not the same as it was waking up heartbroken and lonely. It's worse in a way, but so so so much better. Waking up in love and lonely is painful, it's a sharp ache that pronounces the abscence of the lover. It's a restraint that ties you to the mattress even though you know full well it's time to get out of bed and make way for the work world. I didn't want to get up this morning. I wanted to lay there and daydream of her... of her lips, and the round of her hips with my arm laying just over the dip of her waist -back turned to me, she would drearily roll her head to look back and kiss me good morning. It's all fantasy at this point, poigniant fateful fantasy. But I look more relaxed. I look good, healthier, so I'm told. I am totally in love with her, and I ache. It will pass in time I suppose. We will be together again. But all these ideas and plans and motivations driving me to her, they all take time. Time. Time... Like the proverbial carrot dangled before the dnokey, I've had just enough time with her to spur me forward. Just enough time to make me fully understand what is in store. And just enough time to really fuck it up should things go wrong. Idle hands are the only thing that could fuck things up at this point, and frankly I'm not running into a shortage of things to do. Focus, and a restrained intensity toward the things I want to accomplish in life will get me to her sooner than moping or mourning, or missing her too much... although I can't help but miss her too much... I comfort myself with the idea that soon the wait will be over. And these things that I must get done are nothing but obstacles in the path to her. Obstacles that I must overcome before we can walk together again, hand in hand, cameras in tow...

more later... I need to stop dreaming for a moment. j-

[ 12:38pm CST ]

Okay, back to dreaming... ;-)

My horrorscope for today tells me:

"Go out today and buy a notebook. Write "My Personal Mission Statement" on the cover and "What do I want most?" on page one, and then let your imagination run wild."

Since this is, for the most part, a big notebook that I use to jot down ideas and so forth, I'll let my imagination run wild here.

My Personal Mission Statement
=============================

What do I want most?

I want to do life affirming work in a creative niche. I want to keep writing, and playing music, and being visually creative in a way that allows me to break away from computers as a primary source of income and starts to let the free flow of images and light and contrast be my lifes work rather than networks and routers and servers. I want to use computers as tools instead of being a tool to computers. I want to live life happily with a beautiful woman who loves and respects me. Who will stand by me rather than trying to stand over me. Who is capable and willing to want life and family and love above selfish motives, but has those as well and is activly pursuing them. I want to never suffer another Chicago winter. I want happiness for my family, both biological and adopted relatives. I want to treat some young woman like the queen she is and make babies with her and build a home with her. I want to live comfortably while working on BIG projects that take a lot of time and money but have equally big payoffs. I want to be a family man, and gentle man, and a confident man, and an artistic man, I want to be a man of the people, I want to be a man that can be depended on, I want to be a man that can handle the hurdles that life throws in front of me, and can dance with as much grace through the good times and the bad. I want to be a grown up man who handles his responsibilities with grace and ease. I want to be a forthright man who is considerate and contemplative. I want to be a man who people look at and respect because what I say is right and to the point and concrete. I want to be a man instead of just another "Lost Boy". I want happiness and life and love and work that I enjoy. That's what it boils down to, at the very core. Oh, and I want to live with the girl I love whether its Chicago or San Francisco or New York or London or Paris, I want to be with her and I want to do big things with her by my side always. I want to live and breathe and eat and sleep her and the world we create together. I want to never live in fear of her or her motives, and I want to share everything no matter what it is, painful or joyful, happy or sad, good or bad, easy or difficult. I want to take her, and make her mine. And have the marriage that I've always dreamed of... I don't ask for much do I? ;-)

I'm sure that I'll revise and refine that as time goes on, but there it is in its rawest form, My Personal Mission Statement for 2002.

If I don't write more before 2002 rolls around, Happy New Year! Happy New Beginnings! Tonight, I am the pheonix, tomorrow I am flight. Lots of love everyone-

j-
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music: the Dandy Warhols

music: the Dandy Warhols - "Mohammed"

This week has been the quintessential fairy tale. Complete with carriage ride through Central Park. It was a rollercoaster of sight and sound and sensation. Emotions flowing more freely than the water. This was more than a journey to meet the woman of my dreams. This was a journey of self discovery. She showed me that I could finally be the man that I want to be. That there is one incredible reason in this world to be more than I thought I could be, and that is simply because. Because she loves me, because there is no more to life than magic and romance and love. We are all victims of this biology, we live and breathe, we eat and shit, we fuck and die. But. But every so often there is magic, a connection that crosses all known boundaries of time and space. It's something that science has yet to really comprehend or explain, and frankly, I'm not sure that I really want an explanation anymore since I know it first hand and there is no word or explanation that could possibly do justice. This is the love that when you have it, you see it in other people when they have it. You can call it out of the crowd, and even though everyone who lives with or loves someone says they have it, you know. You look at them and don't say a word because you know to say anything would only make them angry and defensive. To try and tell them that they really can not comprehend such a thing because you really know it makes you just look like an asshole, so you keep your mouth shut, you nod politely, you say whatever words of affirmation need to be said and you smile ever so slightly to yourself all the while knowing that what you carry inside and what you have with your lover are so much greater than the sum of any words that you could ever attach to it. This is my connection to Renee. This is my total and utter conviction to her. It goes beyond anything that I've ever known or felt regardless of how much I wanted to believe in those things that I've felt before.

When I got to town, I was nervous. I wanted things to go well, but there is always that moment of hesitation, some sense of anxiety that surrounds the actual event. I get to the hotel. Christmas night, because I can feel her so close and I have to get there. Just before midnight, maybe by a couple of minutes, I show up at the door. The doorman standing behind me, I ring the doorbell. And then it sets in. Everything is so comfortable and natural up to that point. I'm laughing to myself about the thought of opening the door with my heart, just like we'd talked about for days before. My heart is completely open and the door swings open. There is the most gorgeous looking woman standing in front of me. I walk in the room and kiss her. I feel so comfortable and at ease. We must have held that kiss for what seemed like a lifetime. And even when we broke it off we just sat and stared at each other. She's incredible. For more than just appearance sake. But it certainly helps. We talked, we zoned out on each other, we could not stay close enough to each other. It was a fairy tale. Okay, lets run down the events of the past few weeks just so that the events are clearly understood:

-I go to LALA Land and by chance someone meets me and thinks Renee and I would be a good match.
-I get e-mail saying "email so-and-so, you'll love her"
-I email, she emails back, we do this for about two days, back and forth quite a few times a day... I'm reading and falling for her, she's so smart and funny.
-I can't take it so I ask her if I can call... she says yes...
-We talk for two solid weeks. I tell her I'm taking off to new york.
-She happens to have open tickets to new york
-She happens to be able to call in a favor and get a hotel for the week.
-Everything falls into place exactly perfectly for us to meet and have a romantic getaway in Manhattan.

So from there it was all anticipation. There are a couple of ways that it will go. We could have wound up hating each other, or we'd fall madly in love with each other. Needless to say, we don't hate each other. But the chemistry is there, over the phone, in the words., in between the lines. We are totally connected. I could feel it before we ever met and it made me feel a little crazy. Still, all that aside, when we looked at each other it was love for me. I've wanted for so long to believe in something. Some thing that is larger and more important than myself. I've found it. I've found love at first sight. The primary element of fairy tale romantic idealism. My heart jumped, my pulse raced, my breath escaped me. Obviously it was late that first night so we stayed in. And slept in the next morning lazily tripping around the room until deciding that we were ready to go out and tackle New York.

Midtown Manhattan, shopping frenzy tourist trap Times Square. Rockafeller Center in Christmas is not the beautiful picture they broadcast on television. Or more to the point, it is the beautiful picture that they broadcast on television, but more. It's about six million people all pushing and shoving down sidewalks that never seem so narrow in the summertime. It's the hustle and bustle of wide eyed wonder staring at store fronts and cathedrals and statues. It's a fabric of flesh molding itself into and around every bit of landscape that can crop up out of the concrete. People on church steps, people on street corners, people on sidewalks, people climbing stairs and statues and fountains, people going across the streets and up the streets and around to the side streets and trying to get out of the way of the other people but they can't because there are just too many people. It's overwhelming. I was never afraid or upset by the people because in the middle of it all is Renee, she's holding my hand the entire time. She'd stop and look at me and in the middle of six million people we'd stop and kiss. Big eyed love smile from ear to ear without a soul in the world to watch or notice other than ourselves. I knew it was going to be good, and I knew that we were going to be dreadfully cute together but I had no idea how easy it would be to fall into her without a care or contemplation of the world around us. The whole day I had a blast, and when I stopped to think about how much we clung to each other the entire day I started to wonder how long it would last. It never lasts forever and never lasts long. I have never been with someone who could tolerate being so cute and intimate for longer than a few days and then it was gone for good. "The other shoe will drop," I thought, "The only question is when."

That night we went to Rosie O'Grady's and had the most incredible food. Renee taught me how to eat oysters. And they were goooood. We had a great bottle of wine, an enormous fillet, some tasty chicken cordon bleu, did I mention the wine? It was really good, and went strait to our heads. Renee insists that she was completely loopy, but if she was, she never let on. I've always been told that I'm difficult to read as far as levels of intoxication though so I feel she's probably the same way. After going to bed early we were ready to make another day of it. This time down to the Village.

We set up guide lines for ourselves before we ever got to New York. It was obvious how things were going to turn out for us. We both wanted this so much, we both clicked so well. I knew before I ever laid eyes on Renee that I would be heart broken saying goodbye. I'm writing this on the bus driving away, and I didn't underestimate the feeling at all. Saying Dos Vidanya was the hardest part of the trip, we said it, before it was ever time. When time came, we didn't say a word. I refuse to say goodbye. Besides she knows what is in my heart, as I do hers. I digress, we had made up some guidelines that were basically saying, We will give ourselves two good days of no worries before we start talking about anything that is related to the end of the trip. That meant any words about what it was going to be like flying back to our respective cities rather than flying home together. It meant no words about how hard it would be to let go of each other to go home, it was all of that. By thursday, we already knew how difficult it was going to be and we could read it in each others eyes. It was a happy manic feeling though because we were both sticking to our promises and we were both realizing how profound our feelings were. It was a lot like, "Oh baby, if I could tell you how much it's going to suck leaving on saturday, I'd do it, but since I can't and it's only thursday, I love you, let's go in there!" It was so sweet to see this gorgeous woman look at me with those huge green eyes and hear the words, "Lets go shopping." Only it was better because it was with this really incredible russian accent that is exotic and sexy and completely made everything else around me melt. We walked that day from 60th street on the upper east side down sixth and Broadway (at different times of course) all the way down to the village and then down to ground zero. I'm saving comment on ground zero for a different time, it's too difficult to mix in with this experience which is so happy. But after that we walked back up to the village and ate at my favorite italian restaurant ever, Da Silvano's. She picked the wine (an incredible grey, not too fruity, not too dry). The food was amazing, okay, let me just say this for effect, THE FOOD WAS AMAZING. Renee taught me how to speak italian so that we wouldn't be mocked by the waiters while we were ordering ;-) I listened and imitated to the best of my ability, which must have worked because we got great service and an awesome time. It was a dream. She told me that I was officially "wining-and-dining" her, hehehe... that was cool. That's the effect I was going for, mostly because I've never been in a position to do that and now that I am, it felt really good. It was exhausting though, after the walk and after the emotional turmoil of Ground Zero. It took a while to shake off the ghosts of the encounter. We were both shaken so we went back to the hotel. We covered good though, laughing and playing, she called me a "wuss" for not wanting to walk the seventy blocks back to the hotel. Since I know you'll read this sweetheart, fine I'm a wuss ;-) Seriously though, we were both exhausted and tormented by what we saw and what we've experienced. It's odd to stand in front of such a huge tragedy and think of oneself, but I don't know how we can not in some way. It's like standing on the moon and realizing the infinitely small place in the universe you have. While you realize the enormity of the thing itself, you still base the scale on what you can relate too, yourself. We poured over pasts and exposed parts of ourselves to each other that we wanted to keep hidden. It was scarey, but good. Hearts exposed are better than walls and defense mechanisms when dealing with tender matters. She listened patiently and understandingly, and didn't get scared. I listened patiently and understandingly, and didn't get scared. We were both nervous at our level of exposure, but just soothed and comforted regardless. We slept really good that night and didn't let go of each other the whole night.

Friday rolled around with a start. We could finally say everything that we wanted to say and with hearts exposed we morning the coming of saturday. Not too much though because we'd already gotten into the habit of looking at the moment and enjoying rather than projecting into the future and feeling miserable about something that hasn't even happened yet.

Okay, I'm going to take a break for a bit... more soon, probably from the plane... j-

{ 4:17pm CST ]

Okay, where was I? I should re-read what I write more, but that tends to taint the spontinaity that I try to induce for these things. Okay.. let me just say, I hate the plane. It never fucking fails. Every damn time I get on the plane there is absolutely no one that likes to lay back in their seat except the one fucker right fucking in front of me! I HATE that shit... okay, I'm done venting, but it makes me want to hurt people. It wouldn't bug me nearly as much if I had a display that would actually be viewable from the fucked up angle I have to view this at in order to get anything done. One of these days I'm just going to start kicking the seat in front. "Ooops, sorry. Did I kick your seat, I'm really very sorry. Oh hell, I did it again, really it's just so difficult to get anything done with your head in my lap... I'm really sorry." hehehehe... sometimes I can be an evil bastard. Too bad I haven't followed through on that yet... anyway.

Friday was good. It was Renees day, every day was really, but I had definite things and places that I wanted to see and do so we worked those in. Friday we just went into the village and strolled around. We got a late start, but it was good. We slept in and got some brunch, lots of coffee for both of us and then off to the village. Shopping was the order of the day. Those east coasters (and most of the world compared to me) have very small and narrow feet. It makes for an interesting time when trying to buy shoes for me. Renee was incredible, she was on the prowl for good buys for me, she really wants to take care of me, and I'm not ashamed at this point to take her up on it. I'll gladly do my share for her as well, but it's great to know someone out there is really looking out for you. We strolled around the coolest spots, we hit the hippest stores, we really didn't buy anything though. It was post holiday inventory cleat out though, all the good stuff was mostly taken, the few things that I got for myself were generally hidden or buried under a thousand other things. We had fun though. Renee was incredible. She knows men and me too well, she kept asking, "Are you getting tired yet?" or "Do you want to go in here? Are you sure?" That was incredible. She really cared that I had fun and enjoyed myself. She should have realized that as long as I was with her I was having fun, but that's okay. It was just proof to me how thoughtful she is. She's definitely a rare rare creature. I'm a luck man to be sure. She wasn't feeling well either though, off and on bouts of nausea led us from store front to street corner bench to cafe. And of course more coffee... we got wired and spent a good hour and a half talking and asking deep personal questions of each other, then played with cameras, totally absorbed in selves oblivious to the rest of the world. That's how I want to remember Manhattan, the place where we made the island an island unto ourselves. Sushi was the order of the night, I was craving it after hearing Renees description of this place that she knew of. I don't think we wound up going there, but where we went was good enough. It was really good food, Renee ordered everything which was a total treat. We had a bet going, I would have won, but I backed out of it in the end. It was over the artist of a disco tune, she though it was K.C and the Sunshine Band, I knew better. The only reason I knew what that stupid as seen on TV record of "Disco's Greatest Hits" that played for so long on late night TV> I've seen every compilation disc record commercial there is, I'm convinced, so I felt a particular feeling of authority on that subject, that and the flashback of the song title and artist really influanced my conviction. We were pretty loud about it though so I asked the waitress who did the song, she didn't know, but since they were playing disco, she put the song on. We laughed our asses off and sang the song in the restaurant. It was a blast. After dinner we went on a carriage ride in central park. There was a full moon out, the clouds were parting and the sky looked beautiful. It was the most romantic thing I think I've ever been able to do. The company was incredible, the view was incredible, there was that comfortable feeling of being stuffed on sushi and the warmth of drinking sake, and we were just totally relaxed riding in the back of the carriage. From there it was off to Bar 9 on 9th. Cool club, crowded and awkward when not in meat market mode. I actually overheard the line, "Yeah, but I want to be a surgeon." Which launched Renee and I off into this facade of the pick up... "So, do you come here a lot?" "No, I'm actually here from out of town." "Really? What do you do?" "Oh, I'm a poet/musician/author/film maker... but I really want to be a surgeon." We got so drunk it was really pretty funny. We'd already charted out the course back to the hotel based solely on the number of Christmas tree lights any given street had. It was a lot of fun.

Ahhh... that that leads into today... today... even New York was sad to see today come. It was grey and overcast. The whole week, the sun was out, we woke up to this stunning view of central park But today, it was dreary. It was a total reflection of our moods, neither of us was really do climb down from the high of this total New York fairy tale and come back to reality. Here I am, on the plane flying home and I'm still not ready to leave it behind, but... I don't know it's time to come back to earth, time to be grounded. I know more about what I want from life now than I ever did. This fairy tale is what I want to carry into real life. I want to make life reflect all the great things that I saw and did, and the adventure that life can be when you're open and accepting of the magic that surrounds you. This was truely magic. This experience is one that I will cherish forever. And hopefully it will be the start of some really incredible stories for generations to come. We'll soon see...

All I can think about now, now that our brief time has slipped away, into memory... which is why I'm writing so fast and furiously about it all, I really want to remember the events and I have a strong tendency to forget specifics. Now that we're headed back to our respective real lives and taking up the work of creating a life where we can be together... all I can focus on is the future. Taking this moment where I am and turning it into a path to her. That's all I'm going to be able to think of for a while. I have no doubt. It will come, it will work itself out, I keep telling myself that and I keep hoping and praying that they way becomes obvious quickly. Until then, if you know me, and you see a dreamy smile cross my face, you'll know that I'm thinking about New York.

more later... j-
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[ 1:35pm EST] music:

[ 1:35pm EST]

music: June of 44 - Four Great Points

Trauma. Ground zero ghosts caused twins of infinite sensativity to dig deep into sorrow of past lives. Big excavators worked through the night to unearth the bodies and the debris, digging deep into smoldering hole to sort through the ashes. Twin hearts dug deep long into the night to unearth those remaining mangled parts of loves lost and gone. Freak outs and watershed tears marked the end of what was a totally surreal day.

These days are like a fairy tale. Wonderful in the whilwind romaniticism that we've managed to weave into a firey passion and nest of rebirth. Almost too good we don't want to leave the room, but every day we venture out. Each day we find a metaphor or some analogy. It's all pointing out in real world ways to illustrate who we are. Where we come from. I see ghosts everywhere in New York, I felt them last night in ways that a sensative human should never have to.

Okay, before I get going, I have to make a little side note. I'm starting to notice, at least in these days of being with Renee that I start each writing with her, and then venture out, and then eventually come back to her. It does seem to be the theme for my days and nights here. We do this to eachother as well. We wake up and are all consumed with one another, then venture out into the day, each of us looking and pointing out certain things that strike us... it's amazing the collective vision we have... I notice one thing, she snaps a picture and says, "That's a good picture, I'm glad you pointed it out." And then she'll snap a shot, or set up to snap it and I'll wait until she has, looking, scaning the horizon or the space between her and the horizon for what might be the target of her focus. It's in these little moments that I start to see the world through her eyes and I like what I see.
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[ 11:19am EST] music:

[ 11:19am EST]

music: Amand Van Buren - "Boundries of Imagination"

Today today today... ahhhhh... looking out over central park in the morning I had an epiphany. Practical application of quantum entanglement is nothing short of psychic phenomenon. I'm not a physicist however. I'm a romantic. I'm finally in a position of having no sleep deprivation. I slept like a baby last night and wrapped my arms around my baby the entire time. I've never felt so good and natural with someone. This town this place, it's invigerating. I love New York. I love being here in the winter. I've never seen the city in winter before and this is a special treat. Today is going to be the last day that I keep my composure though. It was agreed that there would be no freak outs before we ever came here. No trying to figure out how we will live apart after tasting the sweet touch of eachother. It's already happening though that I can't help but try to work out solutions. I've resolved though so I won't let me mind go there. It's really hard for me because I'm just a natural born puzzle solver. I want to figure it all out. Right NOW ;-) but it will come in time. There will be an answer when there needs to be an answer. I'm not worried about it at all. We made up names for eachother last night. It made so much sense. We both like to play, and that's just another side of it. There is this fantasy life that we all want and need and it's not really bound to the real world in any concrete way. Henry understood it... and as Tom and Renee we understand it too... but that's a little joke for us. It's good though because I can write about renee here and no one has to know who or what I'm talking about.
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[ 1:11pm EST ]

[ 1:11pm EST ]

music: "Of Information and Disbelief" - June of 44

Long lost lover fixes hair in bathroom after meets and greets and long nights sleep. Rest and lazy sunday attitude in mid week bliss bring us to this point. I'm finally satisfied. This is the culmination of a life long struggle to find that which is real. This is so real. It finally gives me hope to believe that romantic idealism is not dead. She wants it as bad as I do. Not it in the sense that most people think of, shallow, empty souls whose only purpose is sex, consumption, and death. No, she wants it, it being that sense of unity and pride in oneself, and total surrender to someone else. Someone who will love and charish no matter the time and tide of outragous fortune. This is the it that is the holy grail of relationships. Today I feel it as real as I feel sunlight on my face, or the Manhattan sidewalks beneath my feet. Today is like no other day, it is new, it is fresh, it is a glorious rebirth from the ashes of misery that brought me to this point.

Last night's journey into today was rough. It's difficult growing up and leaving family, grounded nesting place that signifies the launch pad -that plank from which we must all walk- into the whirlwind flight that is life. Life. What a funny word, I never thought I'd feel so full of it as I do now. I remeber times when life was trying to be taken from me and I gave it freely, not caring whether it stayed or left. Now I have reason. Now I have hope. This breath is mine and I will not give it up. I might be greedy and keep it for myself, I might dedicate it to another for love or sex or art, but Iwill never give it up. There is an image that sticks in my mind. Riding the bus through Lincoln Tunnel, lights cast shadow across empty tube, shadow bus moves forward in fits and starts, jerks and pauses, leaps forward again. It's a trick of the light, that's the shadow bus though. Full of shadow selves moving forward. Sometimes a little ahead, sometimes a little behind. When it was behind, all was well, everything was comfortable and at ease. When it was ahead, there was a little apprehension, a little nervousness. "What if..." I would think, picturing a thousand scenarios that were purely made up out of fear and insecurity. I recognize those voices now though, I see the face of fear when I hear the voice, I can put a finger on the insecurity. I know those voices intimately after hearing nothing but them for so long. Her voice, the voice of S, I would repeat her name again and again as a mantra to ward off the fears. To soothe this soul ache and carry me forward. It was easy. Still work, but easy work.

Driving into Manhattan at night was probably the best thing. Shock of the shift in skyline was nimbed somewhat from the first venture into the city. South end of Manhattan, once so grand and large and looming on the world like a tiger now flat and dead. Dead to so many souls, but so alive despite the brief defeat. New York is rallying against the foes of economy and morale. There are no zombies here, no legions of living dead. Bright vibrent people with lives and life and soul and spirit. You feel it in the air here like you can not imagine on television. Still, growing up seeing the south side in such a way, it's a devistating view the first time. It gets easier, and easier to look at. But its not the hole that is easy to view. Its the comfort in peoples faces because no matter how much they all hurt, and we all do... they still comfort, the strength, the resolve, the tenacity in these people's hearts, in this cities heart. It can't be killed by a few terrorists. A few terrorists will die trying no doubt, but then they will make sure that all of their brothers fall trying. Too bad that it has to come to that. People with familys dying, there has got to be a better way. But evolution can not come without first irradicating the cancerous agents that seek only to destroy. Manhattan is a reminder now. Texas still remembers the Alamo. America will forever remember the World Trade Center. New York will forever remember the assholes that kicked them in the teeth when they welcomed all with open hearts and minds. I'll forever remember the kindness in everyone's heart here despite suffering a devastating blow.

So now, long lost lover comes home to rest weary head and patch holes in heart in areas that life has worn thin. She shares little details. Small snippets of the person that make up the whole . Little by little we expose ourselves to eachother. It's not enough time for anyone, this fairy tale will come to an end all too soon. But there is time for all of the stories. We can pace them. It feels too natural to rush. We'll take our time and enjoy the days as they amble slowly by. When the time comes we will work on decreasing distance and building a solid future. Time is on our side.

more later, j-
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[ 10:55pm EST ]

[ 10:55pm EST ]

music: "Godless" - The Dandy Warhols

Went to church tonight after tens years and tales of shrooms on Venice beach. Time and tide turn but for better reasons than someone's sense of insecurity about my soul. It's inspiration this time. It's for the children this time. It's for my nephew who was in a christmas pagent. He was cute... what was more cute was my little neice who makes me ache for my own daughter. Makes me ache to have children and reproduce and be the magic man ins ome little girls eyes once again. She didn't want mom or snacks or little toys to entertain, she wanted Uncle Joseph and to sit in his lap, and play with his beard and put her fingers in his mouth so she could poke and prod all that weird fleshy wet stuff in there. Sure it was wierd for me, but she's two and exploring everything. It was amazing (her hands were clean I checked that first). squirming worming kid, weary eyed and tired with all the amature pagentry of a christmas congregation swarming around her. I know how she felt, but I'm older and more patient. She was more entertaining than the choir, more interesting than the sermon. But little nephew, he played his role so well. What a little man he is. He's going to be super smart when he grows up, and my sister... she amazes me with her patience and her understanding, and her ability to come up with the right way to motivate without anger and without undue condescension. She's good... very very good. I'm taking notes. I'm hoping that one day it will be my turn.

So tonight I got strange mail again. Bear in mind that it's taken out of context, so I'm not implying any weirdness here, just quoting so that I can make my points. Here's what the letter said:

"So are you REALLY in love? Is this one gonna stick around? I am crossing my fingers for you. You need a good woman."

Okay, aside from the obvious unwarrented condescension here, which I'll ignore...Here's my answer...

No one who ever understood me would have to ask this question. If they knew me, they would feel this as I feel it and just know. I know a person now who does understand me on that level. So yes, I'm really in love. This woman is everything I've ever looked for. She's everything that I've ever wanted and everything that everyone has ever falsely portrayed to me. And she's for real. She's the real thing. She's everything. I took stock not too long ago. What are the things I want in a woman. Frankly I'd given up because no one fit the bill. And in chicago you either get the stepford wifes that are looking for little jock boys to marry, or you get the artistic freak types that want to suffer. I'm through with suffering, too much time wasted thinking suffering was going to get me somewhere. And I've never been looking for a trixie to settle down with so... I need things, mostly mental and spiritual stimulation. I need to be able to have and hold a conversation, I need someone with backbone, someone with spit and fire and sarcasm. Someone who will stand up for themselves as well as me. I need someone who can walk on their own two feet and move in the direction that they want without stepping on my toes in the process. I need someone who is strong and supportive and adventurous and can be the artist as well as the professional. I know I ask for a lot, but I give a lot in return. Yes, I am in love. I am in love with the other half of myself. I am in love with the woman I've been waiting for my whole life. I'm in love with my soul mate, my spiritual twin, my muse, my heart, my breath, my inspiration, my will and drive. Will she stick around? I hope so, but I have no expectation that she will. I want to marry her. I want to be the man that wakes up next to her every morning and gives her happy healthy children and travels the earth with her. But do I expect things to fall that way? No, that's for the universe to decide.

The truth at this point is that I don't need a good woman. I want a good woman, I want her, but I don't need anything or anyone. I can do quite well on my own. I never used to believe that. I should have, it would have saved me a ton of trouble. But this new love thing... this is a good thing. I've found a good woman. No, I've found "The Most Incredible Woman in the World." She's heaven sent. She's an angel. We go on our first date in less than 36 hours and I'm dying of anticipation, I have been for the past three days. We're going to spend four days in New York together (how's that for a first date?). After that I'm never letting her go. I've found everything I've been looking for.

So tonight is Christmas eve. I'm not christian. I respect Jesus. I respect his message. I think I know it more profoundly than most christians I've met. Especially those that preach about how I should give up my addictions and turn my life over to God. Still, it's not mine to judge. Here's my take on the holiday. Get up, open presents with the kids, breakfast with the family. Spend the day in quiet meditation and celebrate the joy of peace and good will that Jesus died for. The rest of the year is for taking that peace and joy and good will into the world. It's just too bad that in order to carry on such a great message, a man has to die. It's always been that way and always will I suppose. But it's not just the celebration of peace and love and joy... it's a celebration of life. Frankly I think we should celebrate our own birthdays much the same way we do christmas, but then I'm weird. It goes back to the words of an angry young woman who wrote "Affirm Life." Which is ultimately what Christmas is about. Tomorrow, and every day I have the energy to do so, I plan to affirm life.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, I wish everyone much joy and happiness this holiday season.

more later, j-
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[ 10:39pm EST ]

[ 10:39pm EST ]

music: Squarepusher - Feed Me Weird Things

Drugged and tired, fortifying myself against germs that are trying to invade. It's a nasty little war both physical and mental. I inlisted the aid of my mother and she gave me this stuff that knocked me out for a good three hours. I suppose that's the best fortification against germs though... okay... my mom just came in my room. I was showing off pictures of S and telling her how incredible she is. Oh, and making fun of her for feeding me weird things that make me sleep. She said, "Well I guess you're just too clean to take a tylanol now, you're just a wuss." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My own mother calling me a wuss?!? I have to admit that I thought it was really funny. I told her, "I guess I'm just going to have to do more drugs to build up my tolerance aren't I?" and she's like, "I guess so." We both just laughed. I love my mom. It's been a long hard road to get to where we can joke around and have fun like this. She's beautiful. It was fun to share what I know of S with her too, I'm gettin more anxious as time goes on and I'm really preoccupied. I think that they both understand to some degree though. I had a wierd day of it however. I dreamed that we were talking, S and I, while I was on the bus to New York. I dreamed that we were having this deep heart felt conversation of life and love and happiness and all the hopes and dreams we have for ourselves and out future. We didn't say much. We just were. It seemed like we spoke all of two words before I woke up with a hard on and view of manhattan. I'm in love. It's the best aphrodesiac in the world. But it was great, it wasn't one of those dreams, it was just nice. I remember going to a shrink a long time ago. He told me that a guy my age ought to be waking up every morning with a hard on and that the fact that I wasn't was a clear indicator that I was clinically depressed. I'll be perfectly honest and say that I don't remember a time where I ever woke up with hardons. Very rare indeed. But now it's happening more frequently. I carry that little quote around in the back of my head and sort of use it as some reassurance that the depression that I carried for so long truely is lifting. It's been lifting since before I met S, but she gives me reasons... I don't know. I guess what I want to say is that when I went through the divorce I reckognized the cycles that I was perpetuating in my life. Like I assume my father is perpetuating a cycle of guilting himself so severly over life shoices that he makes, that it cripples him. I think that it makes him really depressed that he carries that around with him. I don't know any of that for sure, and really he doesn't communicate it with me, so I guess I really have no room to talk about his issues, but it is one of those things. Watching him do that really emphasised the point that there were certain things that I needed to deal with in my own life. I was more in a relationship cycle. One to the next to the next... I have taken a step back from all of that. I've got the perspective of what it is that is good and healthy now... and speaking of healthy goodness... I need to go tlak to S now... I am totally in love with this girl...

more later, j-
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Bullet shot take off,

Bullet shot take off, sling shot into space at a trajectory more severe than I'm used to. But we're up and away from the clouds in record time. Can't complain about that since now sunlight fills the cabin windows and it seems that the weeping chicago pre-winter dreariness is left behind. Looking forward now to family and friends and New York. Little bits of apprehension in the things that I'm about to do. The discussions thus far have brought me to a point in life where I feel safe exposing all those hopes and dreams that were previously shelved for fear of hoping to get too much out of life. No fear of that since there is no fear. It was time not too long ago to sit back and let old visions fall to their final resting place, unable to fly against the weight of reality. Now, fresh life breathed into them, revived and soaring to hights at speeds only rockets could achieve. Is this evolution? Is this the rapid development model of human relationships? Has technology brought us to a point where in open discourse and intelligent use of electrons it's possible to surmount time and distance, and even physical and mental boundaries to acheive a higher level of communication with those special spirits that come into our lives and resonate like the strings of a guitar within our very being? I don't know. I'm on a mission to find answers though. Answers to age old questions of life, to reach beyond the wisdom passed down by all of those that came before and prove that on some level they were wrong. Wrong about god, wrong about love, wrong about life and all the possibility that it holds. I'm reading a book, "Letters to a Young Contrarian." by Christopher Hitchens. I'm up to the point where he's discussing the need for conflict in society to spur progress. It's a conversation that a friend and I were having in a dark living room past sunset on a weekday in L.A. (both affectionately and dispisingly refered to as LA LA land depending on frame of mind). His point was that evolution is spurred by struggle, it is only through open discourse and conflict that real answers can come about. It's two way of saying the same thing. Unlike Hitchens, I probably choose to say these things with my typical romanicised voice, however the intent is the same regardless of the words. (Letter of the law as opposed to spirit of the law, that sort of thing) This is the conflict arising within though, how is it that such an impact can be made through such an untested and implausible mose of trasport as technology and intuition? Is it possible and if so, how would one go about proving such a thing in some quantifiable scientific terms? Should that even be a requirement or shoudl we simpley accept the fact that human nature is often defined by purely irrational acts and if we presume this, then is it possible that purely irrational acts are somehow motivated by a benignly devine authority as much as all the negative that we see and hear on TV and in the news and on the Discovery channel when we watch documentaries of all those purely irrational beings that slaughter and choose to end life rather than afriming it and choosing to somehow increase it's value? I digress into wondering if there is a god. This is not what I'm after. I have no interest in proving the age old philosphical debate but more a humanist interest in the magical manipulations of events in real life. There's a distinct difference. It's miracle, or devine action as opposed to devinity its self. This supposes a source of divinity or some source of magic. I prefer to think of it as magical, it's just more fun that way to me, rather than to tie it to any religious dogma. Anyway... this is turning into mental masterbation... I'm going to put this away for a while...

more later, j-
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[ 8:55am CST ]

[ 8:55am CST ]

Images. Ice. Punctual bus. Running up platform, handrails zoom by. Hold door for singing man. He wants change. Pangs of guilt for not being brave enough to give this singing man a dollar. He's magic and I'm chicken. Brain daze lack of rest leads to somnabulent travels over rails letting loose sparks from the friction of a thousand souls traveling downtown toget down to work in the city that works in the morning.

Today I want to rant, I want to shout out against the world because of what I've heard. I want to sing to the sky that I know the way and why and that way is love. You must first love before you can carry your message of love into the world and idealistic chatter from brains drained of originality from the academicaly inclined white tower wizards of knowledge and so called truth tell you that using your mind is the be all and end all of american philosophy which we can tell you now after bombs and hell just is not right. How many brothers and sisters and mothers are we going to have to fight and how many children are we going to bury before we realize what is truth, and that truth is that there is no truth, only life and death. And as the young woman said "If you are not for life, you are against it." so the time is now, choose your side because there is no ideaology to life no dogma no right or wrong or heaven or hell but that which we make with our own hands. we either choose to *CON*struct or we choose to *DE*struct which do you want to be, for me I want to see the day when every man woman and child has food in their pot and can invite over their friends and neighboors no matter what color religion or sexual orientation and have tea with no fear of revealing true identity caused by lack of commonality and the realization that under the clothes and beliefs we are all the same. We choose life, we choose compassion, just like we choose strife or hatred. we can't use the excuse of "look what he did" anymore because there is no use in pointing the finger anymore when you look at the world through eyes that realize existence and difference are key to evolution. So I hate to bring it up again, but again she said and again, "Affirm Life!" and I say "Affirm Life" and I say again repeating it to myself again and again, I want to spread this message and shout it to any ears that will hear, "Affirm Life!" because I know for me I want to see a day where there are no more children dying, no more mothers crying, no more people lying or trying to tell me that what they want for me is the best for me and you, and I think that if you stop to think you want it to... Reform the system from within the system...

more later. j-

[ 3:09pm CST ]

Okay, every day I go to our little designated vending area on the 20th floor to look out the windows and look at the world from two hundred feet in the air. Every day I look out at all the other windows, and there are a lot of them, to see if there is a face out there looking for other faces in the windows. There never is. It makes me think that there is no one that works downtown here that appreciates the view from two hundred feet above the earth. We take too much for granted.

more later, j-
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[ 9:16am CST ]

[ 9:16am CST ]

The first snow of the season comes in fits and starts rather than the idealised white powdery fall that clings to noses and rooftops. It starts with just a few flakes at the bus stop, and by the time the bus ride is over and I'm standing at the platform waiting for the Blue Line, it's not rain anymore but soft flakes blowing their way down to earth. Post late night freak outs and raw nerves of emotion give way to wakefulness with a start. Bolt upright when the alarm sounds because there is no other way. If I go slow, I'll never be able to reach the beds escape velocity. This is not a bad thing, it's a good thing. Weary bones and eyes a gentle reminder of why I feel this way, all exposed, all glass... transparent to her, showing her places inside me that even I am newly aware of. It's so good though, even those dark places are now exposed to light and now that I'm aware of the true meaning of that, I'm not going to argue with it. Love is a great thing. Love that is this raw and this passionate is an incredible thing. I want to work on building a reality of this dream, of bringing it gently down to earth and making it manifest. She is real, and this dream is lucid. No more panic striken thoughts of underserving insecurity. I don't have them in me anymore. It's all been replaced by joy... now I just have to go replace my weariness with caffeine. S- Je t'aime, tu est tres belle.

more later... j-

[ 3:47pm CST ]

I was too happy to keep you to myself today. I showed off your picture everywhere. I can't take being away from you this long, the days go by so slow, the weeks, the months, the years... you are my heart, my soul, my breath... Let's take these years and set them aside, forgive them for their cruelty. Lets promise to never be apart again as we have had to be in this lifetime and so many before. It hurts too bad to be away from you, it's not enough to keep coming back, I want to be with you forever without any more of this damnable seperation. I want to close my eyes feel you in front of me... I want to be bound to your for good, for eternity... am I too much of a dreamer?
--------

[ 8:59am CST ]

[ 8:59am CST ]

I've got to be better to myself and get more sleep. It was worth it though. People naturally assume that I was out partying here for some reason. It's okay. It's my little secret that it was a party of two. "No, I was at home, I'm just an insomniac," I say. It's true, I am, and I doubt I would have slept anyway but we were up talking until early in the morning again.

She is so inspirational, she keeps me thinking and dreaming and using my imagination. I'm going to love her for that, more than I love her for all of the little things. "Maybe tomorrow you'll see something magical on the train again." She said to me as I was starting to bitch about the idea of going to work int he morning. It stuck with me. Today's train ride was almost exactly the same as yesterday's. I must be hitting the routine because all the same faces were there (and then some). Even the little boy from yesterday, although it looked like a different woman was with him, maybe his grandmother this time? I don't know. Something was different though and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I looked around, nothing. It was all pretty much the same. I looked out the window, and "wow," there was light. After three days of rain and cold gloom, there was sunlight. A crisp clear winter morning that's damn cold, but invigorating. Or at least would be if I had energy (thank god for coffee and Red Bull). But there was light, and I noticed the light because I had my eyes open, I was looking for the magic, the change, and the rain was gone which was the change. Ironically symbolic, I think. So instead of looking inward, to all the faces and all the people going places (there's a rhyme for you S. ;-) I turned my gaze to the sky and let loose a thousand dreams of things to come and things that might never happen, but my eyes were open to it all because she reminded me to be open to it all. She truely is my muse.

more later... j-


[ 5:20pm CST]

music: Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot - Sparklehorse

Boy sits on train, guitar in lap. He's preoccupied and doesn't notice the bookbag rolling around on the floor and almost getting kicked out the doors. I start to reach, to help. But before I can get there, he's already got the bag in hand. I scan quickly, before he gets a chance to put the guitar away. Dark blue varnish on a cedar top, rosewood fingerboard. Label, can't quite make it out, something with an L maybe? Before I can make it out, it's in the gig bag and away, out of sight, out of mind. Names don't matter. Fingers and tones ring through my head. "What kinid of guitar do you play?" I ask. "Classical" he says, knowing full well that the penis measuring stick for guitar ends with classical. Somewhat more humble when he sees that I don't flinch at this announcement. Territorial pissings among musicians was one of the main reasons I left it. Life being boundry-less like art, music can not be contained in ego or genre. I hold up my right hand to show my alligence and the tell-tale finger nails. My eyes gleam soft and sympathetic, "How long you been playing?" "About a year... A year and a half to be exact." he says. "Anything in particular?" "Mostly I play while someone sings." "Ahh, accompaniest?" "Yeah." "That's good, that's good... good experience." He just smiles humbly and nods. "Do you still play?" He asks. I offer a look of confussed affirmation, implying how ludicris the question is. "You can't put it down. It's like a beautiful woman, you can't leave it..." I say more to myself than to him. "I'm like that too. That's how I am about it." He smiles, being spoon fed the words the knows in his soul but can not say. He remindes me of me ten years ago. I practiced 8 hours a day and dedicated myself to music above all else. I used to hold my guitar with such love, such delicate admiration. The smell of the wood grain, exotic and fragrent like a seductive perfume. I would run my fingers over gentle curves, around the back of the neck where the shoulders met the body, around the waist. Rubbing fingers gently around the sound hole where wood -no matter how finished- protrudes and thrills skin with its grit and grain. My guitar, she was my first lover. She was not jealous because she understood that there was no other. I had a girlfriend once who was jealous of the fact that I spent more time with my guitar than with her, so we broke up. I wanted to be the best. I remember a friend in the same program asking me once, "What do you want to do [with music]?" to which I answered, "I want to be the best guitarist on the face of the earth." I did too, sort of. It was only much later that I realized, the only way to play at a level I can truely be happy with was to find true happiness. I was too young to understand at that age. It's almost a continuum. On one side, pure virtuosity, the other raw feeling. I was a musical leftist. I wanted the feeling, but I studied technique, some things can only be taught through hard-won life experience. Milage. That's when I realized I had lied. To my friend, to myself, to everyone at school, about what I wanted to get out of music. I didn't want to be the greatest guitarist in the world for any other reason than to win those "Who's got the biggest dick" contests that follow guitarists around wherever they go because there's always some other hot shot with slick fingered lightning sweating off their hands ready to cut the heads off icons by throwing out a thousand notes. When I looked deeply, and dug to find what meaning I really wanted out of life and music and art, I realized my true ambition. Like the Soprano that can shatter glass from shear resonance, I wanted to play the note that would cause the heart to break.

more later... j-
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[ 12:41pm CST ]

[ 12:41pm CST ]

Ahhhh.... goood, I can write in here again. Seems like there was a routing problem somewhere so I couldn't get through. It's all good now though. So here goes... this is what I was going to write in here earlier today, but couldn't... fortunately I've spotted a lot of typos and now managed to clean them up a little...

Thoughts on the Train...

My heart and mind are in San Francisco, my feet and body in Chicago. Soon they will both meet up in New York. Riding the train in on a dreary Monday morning, I see all of the faces. The nameless masses huddled around their cups of coffee, trying not to spill. All of the hard worn looks of cold and bitterness. I feel like a light in the middle of it all. Like the wide shot of the crowd with one single figure in the center, illuminated, glowing compared to the surroundings. There was a baby on the train this morning. A beaming, bright-eyed little boy. He was puffy in a red snowsuit with cheeks glowing from the cold. The mother, standing, holding him because everyone was too rude to let her have a seat. I scanned the crowd, from my distant vantage point, to see who the offenders were. Mostly young college kids from the look of fear and loathing on their faces at looking upon the youngster. None of them having yet aquired the compassion that experience with children brings. None of them yet realizing that carrying the load of a child, in all it's glory and splendor, is still a heavy burden. Just as it was for their parents and their parents before them. I'd have given my seat had I not been across the car and standing, but the cold eyes of every passanger I probed told me that few others would. He didn't mind though, this little man, he was maybe all of two. He smiled and laughed as the car rocked backwards and forewards, the entire time his little hand just a few inches above his mothers on the pole that everyone uses to steady themselves. Light gathered around him too. He was the center of the universe for that little span of time between Western and Division on the blue line. The automatronic voice rang out on the loudspeaker, "This is Chicago." Realizing my displacement in the universe, I laughed to myself. "It certainly is," I thought. "Svieta," A smile crept across my face and he saw me. Looking across the car, I glanced up and this little light of a man was staring at me. I smiled at him, and he coo-ed and gurgled a bit of laughter, beaming this smile back the entire time. He knew my secret. "This is Grand," came the loudspeaker again. The voice, so flat and dry as to add a hint of irony to the words. But today, this morning out of so many mornings, I agreed. "This *is* grand," I said to myself... and repeated her name in my thoughts over and over again as if to remind me of the beauty of my own life at this moment. The little boy left, his mom flustered at the inconsiderate people -eyes cast down and brow scrunched up like she had the weight of the world pinned down directly on her forehead. He just smiled, let go of the pole, and took his peice of the light with him as he left. "This is *truely* grand."

more to come... j-
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[ 3:36pm CST ]

[ 3:36pm CST ]

music - "Neitzsche" - The Dandy Warhols

I've been ruminating on ways to say this since this morning. I want to send a signal to my ex to say that I won't be taking part in any discussions anymore or playing into any of her plans to rediscover that lost part of her memory about events that have happened. The reason is not one of spite or anger or any of the thousands of things that she would most likely take it as, but more to the point, one of great intense happiness. More like the understanding you get when you get burned by a flame and realize that the flame is hot. That epiphany, a brief, intense, moment of recognition. I see her, I see that experience, as completely and truely what it was now. To use her phrase, I have come full circle. She was the training ground, so to speak. She was the one that was suppose to teach me about the things I wanted and didn't want, and the things that were right and wrong about relationships. She was the one that was supposed to prepare me to meet "The One". The true and identical part of myself that was missing from the beginning. And now that I have met her, I have reached enlightenment. So as for the ex, I forgive her, I forgive everything that happened, and I'm glad that she's moving on and working out all her issues. I wish her the best of luck. For me... for me... for me, I'm excited. I can't wait to see what adventure this life and this woman will bring. She's so full of life, she's bursting at the seams with it, bubbling over with it... it rubs off. I've finally met the one person that I know "gets me." And I never want to let it go because it's an incredible feeling. I'm not alone in this world, I'm not going to die old and lonely with me and my cat. I've got a lot of life to live and I have someone to share it with. I couldn't be happier.

That all being said, I don't know how regularly I'm going to be updating this anymore. I'm always going to write, and I'm going to try to update. But as we all know (I don't know who "we" is, but I know for myself at least), I tend to write more when I have a lot of time and misery on my hands. Time is short. I've got a schedule that would make a speed freak feel like a sloth. And I'm not at all miserable. I'm completely overwhelmed with feelings of joy and happiness, and it didn't even take drugs to get me here! ;-) So, that being said... I don't know, maybe this is the point in life where I'm supposed to figure out how to write about happiness and joy. I've never tried before ;-) Perhaps something will come of it. I already have the perfect story, I'm going to work it into some story or another. She told it to me. It was so beautiful and cute and when she told me, my heart melted. I'm not going to write it here, but maybe it will make it's way into a short story, and probably into a poem or two... we'll see. So maybe it won't happen like it usually does, maybe I'll keep writing and this will be the journal that I fill with joy rather than sorrow. I hope so at least ;-)

more later... j-
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[ 11:41 am CST

[ 11:41 am CST ]

media: The Discovery Channel

Wow... I had to get that out last night. I'm speechless as to the events of the past few days. I know what she'd say too ;-) I'm thinking about it too much... I have to think about it though, I wouldn't be me if I didn't somehow cripple myself with my own thoughts. But... and this is an important change that is taking place, I'm throwing myself into it anyway. I can feel the tug of the heart and the direction that it's trying to pull me in, whereas a while ago it wouldn't have been so obvious. My head tries to get in the way, stop that gentle pull in the right direction for fear or for lack of understanding or whatever reason... it doesn't matter... I'm not going to get hung up on it though. Here's the view I'm adopting towards this little adventure unfolding itself before me... Whatever happens, happens. I have no set expectation, or no desire to pressure or rush events. I have an attraction like nothing I've felt before and it's mutual. There is no denying it. The words, the thoughts... she is the perfect woman. Being open and honest got me to this point in life and I don't think that it's time to shut down because of the strange nature of it all... it's difficult though so I guess this is where the next set of trials begins. There's no question of the outcome now though which is the difference. I suppose that I'll try to keep my exuberance to myself a little more when writing about it though (or at least communicate it more directly to her) because I'm now starting to understand the public nature of my journal might not be appropriate for all thoughts ;-) Yeah, I'm a little slow at times... funny thing about living your life online (which I've done for the past ten years, not just the past three) is that you start to loose the abilility to distinguish what are private ideas and what are public ideas... that would be my own little bit of social retardation I guess... regardless, now I have something that is beautiful and special that I want to protect. I want it to be my little secret for now (even thought I know that its a little late for that...)

-phone call-

[ 12:29pm CST ]

Ouch... talk about a major gear shift... that was enough to drop the transmission right out the bottom of my head... A friend of mine just broke up with her man because he's a moron. A scared little moron with intimacy issues at that. It's difficult being a man in a world of men that are complete idiots. And I know a lot of men who aren't but she's a good woman and deserves a good man... Hmmmm, we'll have to hook her up with someone... but who? It'll come, I just have to think about it... It was the coolest thing, I was tlaking to her on the phone, and I felt this connection back to my girl, I thought about what should I say, what could possibly comfort a girl in this position? All her girlfriends are out of town so she calls me... now *that's* pressure... but I felt the connection immediately, I felt her coming through over great distance to give me the strength and compassion I needed. It was amazing...

okay, more later... I've got to go do some stuff...

j-
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[ 4:00pm CST ]

[ 4:00pm CST ]

music: "Hammering the Cramps" - Sparklehorse

Spent the day at the Vault. It's better than taking the train downtown, but more isolating. Maybe not on a lot of levels though. I feel taking the train in is one of the most isolating parts of life right now. Everyone looks miserable, packet like sardines into a tube and shuffled off to work. Then, getting off the train, everyone piles out into lines going up the stairs, heads down like little lemmings up the escalator and off the steps into the clutches of the deadly corperate world. It's spirit crushing. One day, I'm going to write and essay about it all... it's one of those things that is so evil and heavy that I don't want to remember it after I'm finished with the process. Besides, i didn't have to do it today. Today was different. Today was good...

It's cold in Chicago. Rainy dismal cold with snow forming on back windows and bumpers of the cars parked at the Vault. Winter is now just an unavoidable reality and everyone is looking forward to parking their cars for the next three months and not being able to move them. Oh, wait, that's just me. Everyone else here drives SUV's and can move around still... my little car can't make it out of the snow banked up against it from the plows. hehehe... last winter, I was looking for a place to park, but the only spot was this place that hadn't been cleared, and I was tired of driving around looking. I thought that if I got up enough speed, I could ram myself into the spot without having to shovel it out :-) (Obviously one of my better decisions from the start, eh?) So I did it, and it worked! One little flaw with my plan was, what do I do once I get it in there? The answer? Leave it. I had no choice. I couldn't move from that spot until the snow had thawed enough to melt out from under my car. Yeah, it was stupid, but now it's really funny.


More later... I'm going to take a nap... j-

music: Amnesiac - Radiohead

[ 10:24pm CST]

music: Nassau - The Sea and Cake

In this journal I have written some of the most painful parts of
my existance.
Some of the most bare, raw emotions that I've ever managed to translate into words have made their way here. It's been quite a journey, very dark in places, light and airy in others. Downright morbid and depressing in yet other areas. All of these things make up who I am. All of them are a part of me. Tonight I have found the other part. The part that has been missing. She makes me believe that there is hope for the world and for human evolution. She makes me feel that the heart can mend and find it's peice to that puzzle of our lives that makes it whole. I've written in this journal in the past about life and love and loss and all of those things that we go through in walking the path towards light. She tried to describe what "it" is to me tonight, I knew, but I wanted to hear her description... it was beautiful, she said to me, "You know, it's like in music when you strike a string and that string makes all the other strings vibrate and then all the strings are vibrating." and I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and the blood pounding in my vains and I knew I was in love. I've said so many amped up things like that in this journal in the past, I've spoken so lightly of emotion and love and dug deep to the heart of what my real emotions were even while covering them up with the contradictory thrill of making light of it all... I'm stone cold sober, and rational, and not manic, but I want to take this woman and make her mine. There is no distance I would not cross to be with her... I just have to figure out how. It will come. Patience, like the patience I had to have to get here, there will be a solution. There will be a course that takes me to her. There will be because that's the way it must be. I know now that all the pain and suffering and death that I've been through has only been to prepare me for the burning searing life that I am ready to have. Ooooh, we will make people sick and jealous and angry when they see us because they will want what it is we have... I know this already. She is a light, a beacon, she is my spirit guide. She is all consuming life, like in that poem about god that I found, God has tested me, and I have come through it. God has worn me down to the nub and I have survived. She too has ridden the waves in ways that I could not comprehend, been driven to depths that I can not fathom, and still floats as easily over the surface as a dove over a raging ocean to find an island. I will be that island for her. I've known her for three days. Three days... "I know," I say to my raging mind that is screaming out how illogical it all seems and how rushed. "I know," I say to my heart who is basking in the warm fire of passion and love. I feel her. I feel a string from her body to mine, connected by voice, connected by thought, connected by spirit. She is me... I am her... we speak different words, words fail us. We feel the same. Her nerves in my flesh I feel what she feels, my thoughts in her mouth, she understands in ways that I never comprehended possible. These three days have been magic. Magical, magically real... I look out at the snow falling, at the grey overcast sky of winter and think of this death that has taken place, mine, hers, all in the past... I look forward to the spring, the rebirth... the rising of the pheonix... (yes, Svieta, I'm getting a tattoo, since the divorce I've planned on getting a large pheonix across my back as a symbol of rebirth, now it's a symbol of fiery, passionate rebirth.)

music: "Three Days" - Janes Addiction (yes, it was a bit contrived)
music: The Bends - Radiohead

I see sun where there are clouds, I see birth where there is barren cold, I see grass where there is concrete. I had a vision today. I asked what the neighborhood looked like a hundred years ago, and in a flash it came. I saw the lay of the land, a few houses with great distances between, no roads. It was exhilirating and a little shocking. Tonight, when we talked, we chatted online for a little bit... she was calming me from the weirdness I was feeling and trying to express. I didn't express it well... she told me to calm down, take a breath, relax, take another breath... as I was reading, another flash... a beautiful gentle woman standing in front of me, leaning over, gently placing her lips on mine and kissing me. I relaxed and it soothed me. It soothed my soul. I've never had visions, I've tried to make myself open to it. Today, twice in one day, I felt it like I have never before... Like I have never felt before, that's what it was like. Life, for all it's ups and downs was dull and flat and lifeless until this moment. My heart is exploding... it's like having sight for the first time... like seeing color for the first time... like taking the first step, the first laugh, the first tear, the first breath...

more to come... j-
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No sleep again... damn...

No sleep again... damn... I hate this insomnia... it really sucks at times. Hopefully I'll collapse soon from utter exhaustion... that's usually what has to happen. Cat sez it's because I'm back in Chicago. I think that there is a little truth to that, but not entirely. There is a story -something tragic, and sad, but yet hopeful and potentially very happy- looming on the horizon. I'm waiting to be told but am patient. My horrorscope sez that someone is hanging their head when they should be lighting up like a roman candle. Language is failing me so I should turn to other outlets... don't force discussion, let it happen. This is all so completely new and foreign to me, but I have words to guide however obscure and regardless of the amount of faith you choose to put in horrorscopes... I'm happy. I'm anticipating another message from this girl... I feel silly because it's so completely awkward and so bizarre, but I get this feeling when reading that we are kindred spirits in a way. I can't write right now because my head is too clouded with so many many many things... words fail me because there are no two coherant thoughts going through my head at the same time... maybe it would all be better with sleep but there is no sleep to be had... oh, why now, why when I want to be witty and charming and so cool in representing myself... why am I absolutely at my worst? Cruel fate... you do this don't you? Take that little moment when we are most vulnerable and make something profound out of it! Ha! Such would be my luck... it's funny really, what more can I do but laugh... laugh in the face of adversity and trials and tribulations and bad news and good news and life and morpheus... morpheus.... king of dreams, god of sleep... wisk me away for a few hours... so that I can be in top form for tomorrow when I will ask if I can call, because words will not do with the discussions to be had, and words can not convey the tears and toil of life and love so we'll have no words... instead, instead I'll play... I'll improvise melody, sweet enchanting music that is every bit as spontaneous as good conversation, and soulful as heart felt repartee... I'll play and sweet music will fill the distance of miles and miles and I will not give words the opportunity to fail me. because music can never fail me. We have a conversation that must be had... you and I... I know it, you know it... there is no rush. There is no need to ever rush... everything will become clear in time...

Oh, morpheus... is that you? sweet... I'd almost given up on you for the night... dreams... yes... I have dreams.......

good night... j-

[8:40am CST - after 6 hours of sleep]

hehehehe... sometimes I amaze myself with my own weirdness. At least it's not freaky weirdness, it's just amusing. I feel better now. Still brain dead, part of that I'm attributing to LA's effect on me and the rest is sleep deprivation. I'm still catching up. It could be worse... god I need to not talk to people when I'm that bad off... I should have just crawled away into a hole yesterday and tried to hibernate for a good solid 12 hours or so. Maybe that will be my plan for today. I feel a little better but not entirely all there yet. Getting there though... we'll see how the day goes. There's a lot in the air right now so I'm going to try to write in here a lot to sort of track my mental state through it all. Years from now I'll want to look back on this and think to myself about what a freaked out ball of stress I was... and that it was all worth it because I'll be all rich and famous and living happily ever after with some hottie out in Cali... oh, wait... I'm awake now... I guess that's what they call "daydreaming" then... hmmm.... more later... j-

[11:40am CST]

People here are in an exceptionally good mood today. it's bizarre. They all went out on a drunken binge last night though. I'm sort of glad I had to meet someone, but I understand the need to cut loose and get your drink on. It's mandatory at times. I just don't feel it's the time. I have a steady stream of people going through my cube today, coming, going, singing little songs that somehow incorperate my name. It's all in fun but for some reason it's not helping my mood today, not that it's bad... I guess I'm just being pensive today. I've realized that my trip to LA LA land has really put a few things into perspective for me. Brought some things into focus, other things sort of dropped off radar or became dramatically less important. That's one of the reasons I love travel, but I suppose this time it was a little more poigniant. I'm trying to write more. I suppose that if I create enough volume of words that they will somehow produce enough of the idea of my mental state and somehow I'll get my points across. It's not happening... even now, but I'm bored and I hate my job, and people refuse to leave me alone, so what are you gonna do? I have a thousand images filling my head, and from here the keyboard looks like it's a mile away... perhaps I'm just having a flashback. Still, I feel eatherial, airy, (yesterday, it was just scattered). Today I feel like my feet aren't on the ground, that i'm floating somewhere about three inches above everyone else. I wonder why... It's rainy, cold and dreary days like this put me in a melencholy mood. That's where I am, subtle melencholy, not as profound as I've felt it before, but there is a bittersweet tint to life today... sort of grey and sparkley... needless to say, I'm an infant to verbalizing the visual elements of my life, but I think I'll be getting better at it since that is one of the "shifts" of focus that has gone on recently.

current music is "Bohemian Like You" by the Dandy Warhols... (go buy it, it's loads of fun!)

j-
--------

People here are so

People here are so finicky. You turn oyur back for a second, or more to the point, take off for a week, and they loose all memory of what you've done for them in the past and start to blame you for all their problems. It's this "what have you done for me lately" attitude with the amped up environment of lack of persistant memory. I'm contracting so I'm continually in that mode of having to prove myself. I'm lucky though because I've already worked past the point of caring who or how I impress. My skills are not in doubt, not with me. And not with the people that I interact with daily, but with those that I don't flaunt it for every single day, they are the ones that want to stab me in the back as soon as they get the opportunity. Good for them... it's apathy that deflects their charges at this point. I want a job to care about, somewhere that uses my skills and rewards them. The only reward here is money. And that's not enough to keep me interested. It sucks being someone who strives for personal growth and reward rather than monitary gain. Guess that answers the questions I've been having regarding my own level of superficiality.

more later... j-
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Words words words... I've

Words words words... I've been doing a lot of meditating on words lately. the power of words, the words that fill this site, the words that flow through my head on a daily basis... words are so powerful but so meaningless... what does it mean to produce a lot of words when there is nothing in them that conveys actual meaning... words can not convey... words are nothing when heartbreak lives in real life. I can't write today. words have no meaning... I'll sleep tonight and maybe there will be something tomorrow...

j-

[later]

still can't sleep... it's giving me a headache too... I vaguely remember someone saying "Take Tylanol PM" as I was headed out the door yesterday... I can't stand that stuff though. I'd take it now if I had it regardless. Images, images images... pictures keep floating around in my head. Choas and confusion. pictures of people fighting and throwing things. Pictures of wild eyes hell bent on destruction of self of others, of couples, of misery. It's all being dredged back up recently. I'm not sure that it's an easy thing to do to become resolved with the past that can not be resolved. What is there that needs to be fixed, to be remembered? This is my lesson. Forgetfulness is a blessing. It's not a failibility of the human condition, it's something to be revered and honored as a part of our basic makeup. Not that it's ever possible to completely forget. It's too easy to dig into those deep trenches of synapses that we dump out most hated thoughts and experiences into. I remember walking through the trees and fields where I grew up to find old dishwashers and tires and refridgerators dumped into little valleys and creeks where no one went. I was the lone traveler to those parts of the woods, seeking out some peace in the middle of the garbage. Twenty years later, some things never change. Peace. That's all I want, for my life, for my memory, for my aching head.

I got this letter tonight... it's from this girl who chewed me out a while back. Very vehimently. I don't know. I'm not going to pretend that we were great friends or anything, but she and I did have good conversations. Apparently she looked at it like all I did was "spit venom at" her. I wonder how warped my perception was that I thought "spitting venom" was good conversation. There seemed to be some points where we had communication breakdowns. I never could quite pinpoint it though, and I really tried. I've pissed off plenty of people, and usually I know how and why I did it. Her, I couldn't quite figure out. I never looked at it as her issue though. Apparently neither did she. Regardless, I haven't responded. I'm not sure how. Maybe just a "Hi, everything's great" and making nice nice... who knows. Maybe nothing at all. I don't know. I think she's got me all wrong on a lot of levels though. Is it possible for two people to live in the same world, in the same town, in the same city, live, eat, and breathe the same things, read the same books, speak the same language, and live on two totally different planes of existance? I guess it's not impossible, I guess it's not even a bad thing, I guess it just is. She's a sweet girl, and a smart girl. I'll figure something out I'm sure. I just don't know what it is yet, so I guess that's why I'm writing about it here. She brings up this girl we both knew. I cut off ties with them because I was so superinvolved in her relationship that when I tried to extract myself things got really weird. I really had no desire to confront anyone or "call her out" but none of them see it that way... then again when you're making a blind run for the door, do you really stop to make sure everyone knows why you're bolting? I didn't. I didn't spend a lot of time trying to craft a sensitive letter of apology and exit, I think that I was too confused about how to deal with it that I just went with whatever felt most natural. For me conflict was the most natural thing. It didn't matter to me how I did it at that point, as long as it was done. Burned a lot of bridges in a short amount of time. Sometimes life dictates a "slash and burn" philosophy I guess. It would have gotten much uglier if I hadn't. Too much wierdness in that little group. I didn't see it at first, but I'm glad that I did what I did in retrospect. I feel justified now that there is some distance, and some sanity and clarity to the situation. I've been in enough bad, confused, boundriless situations in life to know one when I see it, the ugliness of it only settles in after seperating ones self from it. So perhaps I'll expound upon that a little. I don't know. It'll come in time I suppose. She deserves a response though, so I'll craft one and send it off... not now though. Like this rambling journal entry, it probably won't make much sense if I write it right now.

Okay, I'm going to go slink into the bathtub now... hot water will hopefully lull me into a calm restful sleep.

more later... j-
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the trip home... what

the trip home... what to say about seven sunny days in LA LA land? I'm not sure. I found out that a
friend might be terminal. I almost got sued for writing my thoughts in my journal. (Still think that
one's petty, but I'll get used to the idea. Besides, there was some validity to it, just none that
was communicated from the source). That sort of put a damper on the trip. I spent a lot of time
digging deep into my soul and psyche to figure out where I was finally coming from. Dredged up a lot
of old pain and heartache in the process. I'll be glad to return to Chicago. The trip out of town
still seems like a fantasy, so it's good that those big issues are resolved. Still others are left
open, and that's okay, I'll be at a place that I can objectively look and deal with them all. I'm
not looking forward to finding another job and dealing with the one that I have to go back to.
That's not at all one of the things that I want to do when I get back. I'm also going to be pretty
depleted after this month so I'll have to figure out a way to cheaply afford all the materials I
need in order to complete the projects that I've managed to commit to. It's bound to be a challange.
But I'm up to it. I'll do it somehow. I don't know how yet, but somehow. One thing at a time I
suppose. Ran into a really cool guy back in LA LA land. Used to tour with 311 and was in the biz
for a bit... geee... wonder what got him out of it ;-) I laugh, but I'm in no position. I never was
in the biz, and I'm almost greatful. I'm a purist at heart anyway I suppose. Still, he had a lot of
good bands to point out and I think we had some grain of similar taste. Met this girl. She was
attractive, borderline crazy, cool, and wanted to help me out when it looked like things might be
really bad. Can't knock her for that. I was lured in my her half glam charm... oh, and did I mention
the body on this girl? She was a hottie. Not the typical midwestern chick which was somewhat
refreshing. Strange things happened in LA, strange things happened to me, to other people, to my
attitudes about myself and other people. I found myself longing for someone back home, and this girl
who was so attractive and availible cut strait through to the point and told me that the only reason
I would miss chicago after being in LA was if I had someone there that I was in love with. It was
that shot that sobered me from the daze induced by heat and salt water. Yes, I am in love with
someone back home. Yes, I long for her. Now it's an impossibility though. I knew it sitting there
on the porch, moonlight streaming through palms and sand between toes. We held eachother for warmth
and comfort. She jerked me out of my melencholy and made me face the reality that I was creating. I'm
glad she did. Before this trip, I was able to go a few days without realizing I was broken, then the
lawsuit threats began, and that age old feeling of trying to say and do the right things but having
all of that grossly misinterpretted and twisted into some angry upsetting encounter... it b rought
me back to that point again. I thought for an instant I was still there. That's how fresh it still
is. She shot strait through to the heart of the matter though and in a few words made me confront the
reality. I don't think I'll ever be able to acknowledge the effect it had. I try here though. Hopefully
that will be good enough. In less than an hour I'll be home. I'll land and take the train to the bus.
And the bus to my door. And from there I'll sit in my apartment and work and write and fill my head with
a thousand images to produce and mull over. Then what? I suppose I'm getting to the point in my lif
where I'm accepting the age and experiance I have alienates me from a vast majority of the population
and there's not much I can do about it. Try and relate? Should I sacrifice to be able to communicate
to the masses? Should I play off the artistic bent and go full out entreprenurial in my life? Money,
fortune, family? These are all things I want. These are all desires and cravings for love and
companionship, but somehow I think that I'm destined for isolation, or more to the point, for solitude.
Thirty is approaching and I've died. My love is gone, and I'm stuck pining away in the cold. Glamour
girl moves on to the beach and bohemian lifestyles of LALA land and hollywood, and Venice Beach, and
my friends move on and deal with their day to day lives with dreams of fame, and popularity. and life
continues... snow falls, parking gets more difficult. I told her, "Keep yourself open, and the universe
will provide." Maybe I should listen to myself and my own advice. I'll meditate on that tonight and see
what happens.

more later... j-

PS - I had rewriten this entry to clarify a few thigs, but I lost it when I tried to fix the date (it got set wrong after the time zone change) so, consider this the rough draft. I'm not going to rewrite it again...
--------

It's unusual but at

It's unusual but at this very moment I feel that the person I am being here is not the person that I am. Like somehow the heat and climate have become something that I am not. I'm living in a fantasy and this is not real. There is a party going on next door. A party to which I was invited and understood would attend. I can't seem to be there though perhaps its the frame of mind, I'm not sure at the moment. This past week has been a turmoil of emotion and digging deep for the answers to what was so much of my existance. Gloria threatens a lawsuit so I put up some password protection for my pages, at first I'm pissed because it seems that she's being a big baby about it all, but then I come to understand and respect her position a little. So I offer a consession. Not a problem. I didn't think it would e a big deal. It's not the event that is a big deal, but the fall out is more than I thought it would be. I guess that's how tenuous a grasp on reality and health I have. I guess it's natural to feel like I'm falling somewhat but then, I thought I was so healthy, I thought that I was so on top of it, I had known so firmly that there was nothing in this world that can shake me from the perch that I've managed to build for myself. In reality, I know that it's not shaken, in reality I know that I will wake up in the morning and be right as rain but now, in this town, in this situation, nothing is real. Everything is fake plastic trees and rubber plants. I really should have been anywhere but here tonight I think. Cat is tired of me now, she wants to get back to real life and stop being a hostess. I want her to be back in the real world as well. I wish that the real world didn't have as many difficult hurdles for her as it does. I miss chicago. I miss the snow. I miss the cold. I miss my cat and my bed and my work. I'm watching Gummo with the sound turned down, and th dandy worhals playing. Between the hollywood lyrics and the meloncholy and mania of the music there lies this back home gritty dirty imagery of places that I remember when I dig back through my memory, people that remind me of the people that were around when I grew up. Most of them wanted to kick my ass. The effect is to create a mood that makes me want to reverse time and crawl back into my mothers womb a tired torn creature of the world looking forward to finding a place to lay my head and sleep for a while, a long while, until all the weariness is left from my bones until the steady ache of years has lifted from these joints and until the heaviness is lifted from my eyes... I want to run from LA and hide from the lazy open casualness of it all. I want to flee from the mordern isolation of it all, and leave it to roast and decay in the sun. Leave it to be swallowed by the ages. Life is not supposed to be this easy. It is supposed to be hard and pointed and cold and suffersome. this paradise that pretends to be this land of rape ond opportunity this vinyl goddess in the heart of the dessert this writhing beast that churns the sand and sea and breaths life to the world as it sucks the life and breath fromo so many... I'm ready to go home now, having gotten everything and more from this trip than I could have imagined. Cat's terminal and in constant pain. Florent is doing as well as he can. LA is going on in the grand cycle of life as well as anything ever does and swallowing the whole great mass as quickly and easily as it is creating them. I'm done. There's a lot of images here. I'll turn them all into something as soon as I've had a chance to absorb and digest it all...

more later...
j-
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Oh, tonight was fun.

Oh, tonight was fun. I spent part of the night wondering what the rest of my life was going to be like and the other part knowing that regardless of how it wound up, it was going to be totally interesting. I saw the most amazing latina amazon woman do the most amazing things with dollar bills and her ass tonight. Jumbo's Clown Room. I met up with Jackson at long last and he seemed in a funk. He explained why and I told him we should go to a strip club. He knew the place... "This is where David Lynch wrote Blue Velvet" he said, and I knew that it was a place we had to go. I understand LA now in a way that I could not have possibly imagined. It's not that there is a relationship between the sin of the city and the image of the city, but more, the sin and the image are part of this symbiotic beast that is self gratifying. It's this big self fucking self replicating beast that slowly churns out images and filth. Heaven and hell all in one concentrated coastline. I love and hate LA, and it's for the same reasons. This is the city that will point out every hypocritical bone in your body and make you understand how and why you use them. It's the big blooming lotus in the desert that looks both beautiful but intimidating, smells both noxious and sweet. Everywhere you go, there is the 8x10 glossy of a thousand stars you've never heard of. Everywhere you go there is the fuel of another burning ego. This is a town of drivers where I am proud to say that I am a passenger from somewhere else. Alien, and native, smart and ignorant, full yet empty. It's everything, but nothing. This was an interesting evening and one that taught me more about the sense of this city than any I have spent so far. Jackson was unreal, there is so much about this life that is totally unreal. He threw one of my questions back at me and all I could do was say that I was on a quest for spiritual enlightenment. I know it's stupid, but sometimes I feel like Samurai Jack. Out of time, out of place, living but not living in this place that is the world. A misfit. And one that is not quite completely out of step, but just enough so that there is a profound knowledge of what it is that I am and am not. Now with this profound gulf before me, water lapping at my feet, strippers older than dirt bouncing their silicon flesh in front of me and looking tempting despite the plastic fold of flesh beneath the rib cage, count... one less than is natural... hmmmmmmm..... there is something deeply disturbing but attractive about all of this. I want to be here. If not now, then sometime soon. Jackson is a powerful ally in this search for the ultimate truth, the quest for unattainable goals. He is an ally in the true spiritual sense of the word. Making somethign out of nothing, making vapor appear as smoke, making pyrite shimmer as gold, making truth out of existance. He is a good man, a good tour guide, and hopefully in the years to come, a good friend. I had fun tonight. Now, I must go sleep off all the gin I drank.

more later... j-
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Went to the beach

Went to the beach today with Tatyana and Josh, some of catherines friends who we had a ball with. Going to the pacific ocean is the most calming experiance ever. I love being near water. Large oceans of water. Living on the ocean is my dream, and hopefully it will one day all come together to allow me that one luxury. I wrote a couple of poems while I was there, in light of current life events and the lull of salt water slashing against the shore, it really made for some serene moments. I tried to capture them somewhat in words, but I don't pretend that my skills can do justice. Here they are though in case anyone is interested in that kind of thing. One is called Evolution, the other is Scenes of Venice Beach. I've got plenty of good pictures that came out of the day, I'll try to post some of them here as soon as possible, but I'm a little behind as the number of people has risen so has the activity level. That's good though, looks like everyone is gearing up for a mad blow out party this weekend. I'm starting to look forward to it, but there are still a few days to go. We'll see what happens. I think we're heading off to the Getty Museum tonight, I really want to check out that place. We drove by the other day, but didn't stop. Okay... I'm a little limited with my ability to sit in front of the computer at the moment. I'll add today's pictures in a bit...

more later... j-

Okay, here's the pics...

Jewish chicks are hot ;-)



This is where I'll be moving :-)



Right on the boardwalk...



Just a swingin' (Cat and Tatyana... respectivly)



Rock Stars!!!



More to come... but for now I'll just say, we went to dinner it was great. Jen got back, I finally got to meet her, even if I went to school with her and am supposed to have graduated at the same time and all that. Don't remember her to save my life. That's okay, I'm sure the feeling was mutual. She's great though, I think that she's the one that I'm going to have to get to take me shopping while I'm here I've got money to blow and I wanna go blow some... I've given up on running into shannon while I'm out here, gave that up a long time ago though, really. But I'm going to try to hook up with Jackson here soon. Tonight though I sleep. Oh, and wash the sand off my feet from walking in the ocean. More later... I'm off to edit more photos...

j-


Okay.. more pics...


Cat doing what Cat does best...



This is why I'm leaving Chicago... I don't know when, but one day...



And lets not forget this one...



Lots of love all, but this is too good to leave. And can you believe it's winter here??? My god...

Okay... off to sleep and hopefully shopping tomorrow...

j-
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