Anywhere

I remember is standing outside of some foreign hotel, smoking a Marlboro and hoping that it wouldn’t end. The sprinklers of the building are on, and I get a steady steam of water slowly approaching me, and all I can think of is what I’ve lost.

The town is rather tiny: Bozeman, Montana. It has that small town feel. There are neon signs, cars driving around past twelve, liquor stores, and a younger, more rounded, American crowd. The one thing I notice more then anything is the climate. I'm out of the mountains now and it's a bit warmer. I could head out in a light sweater and not have to worry about the cold mountain fronts that come about in the evenings.

I am tempted to light another but instead I head back into the hotel. The lights in the building are dim and there is little to no activity. I walk through about three corridors until I finally find the entrance to the elevator. I head for the second floor.

As I open up my room door, I notice two things. First, how quiet it is, as I see my friend sprawled across the bed, his head is up, and he is making small noises (I grew used to this as the days passed). Second, I notice how much I will miss him. I really value his company, his friendship, and at that point in time I hold back my emotions.

I’m thinking the couch will be a safer place for me. I grab a pillow from the bed and bundle up, but all I can do is look over at him. It’s sad in a way, when you find something so comfortable - so great - and the universe steps in and takes it all way. It just gives me a taste of something, and adds to the struggle, because what else would life be if not for that struggle, it would almost be perfect then, wouldn’t it?

I lay in my newly constructed bed, with my forgein pillow, watching both the light from the bathroom come through a tiny crack, and ofcourse, how it falls onto the bed. I can make out parts of his body. He has a rather nice build when I think about it. I guess it's a rugby player body. His shoulders are wide, with a healthy waste line, and a nice height. You can tell he came from the quintisental American blood line - he came from the same people who helped build this great country, and his body is a sure sign of the toils and struggles of the previous generations. I'm thinking I love every part of him and how he fit so perfectly against me.

The couch isn’t as comfortable as I thought it would be. The material is itchy. It’s that Burberry kind of material that never did sit right with me. Now, I’m snuggling up against it, thinking the alternative would be far more painful but unavoidable. If I am to sleep tonight, I have to bite the bullet and jump back in their with him.

I don’t really deal well with goodbyes, especially when it comes to special friendships, or however else you may classify it. Whenever I have lost people in my life, well, I tend to just go off on my own and digress, maybe even romanticize it and make it feel more Hollywood or epic then it really is. I guess I like to be dramatic. It makes me feel that much more important. It makes my life seem special, or romantic, or however you want to see it.

I have given up on the couch. After thinking, I hoped to just craw into the bed without waking him and sleep peacefully. I don’t really want to look at him anymore. I don’t want to cuddle him. I just want to wake up at 5, with my bags packed and get on the plane. I don't really mean that but it's my headspace right now.

After ten or so days of hanging out, there is a part of my soul that now feels deeply for him. I don’t regret it. In fact, if anything it has made me feel alive again. It has made me realize that it’s not ALL bad in the world of dating, or that there are good, wholesome people out there for me to socialize with, and that there is hope.

It’s the end of a romance. The end of something that would have continued if he lived in the same country, and yeah, I think that is the real kicker in this situation. If we were in the same place who knows how this would progress.

As I craw into the sheets he immediately wakes and turns towards me, wrapping his arms around me - a protector - with a loving grip, with one of the kindest souls. How I could I resist him or his embrace? I give him a light squeeze back and decide that I will sleep in his arms after all. It feels too good to deny myself this one last pleasure.

It’s the eyes and smile that got me when I think about it. When I looked into his blue eyes, I felt nothing but kindness. I felt a gentle presence that I knew would never hurt me. I could be safe with him and that there would be nothing to fear. I think that is going to be the thing that will haunt me the most. Oh that sounded harsh, let me reword that last sentance: I will never forget the way he looked at me or how his smile would brighten my soul.

Thanks.

I'm in Montana right now.

I'm sitting on top of a volcano with a caldera so huge, so massive, that if it blew, the entire park of Yellowstone would be wiped out. There are so many 'thermal events' occurring all around me. Yes, some of them require an hour of driving or more, but once you get there, you are so captivated by this alien landscape that all you can do is take it in.

The colors are amazing. There are lands purged of color, and all that is left are whites, reds, and the results of thermal microbes that kill most everything around them. The trees in these areas are dying, but still, in their death, beauty remains.

Nature has this crazy way of destroying and then re-creating. We are in the pre-destruction phase right now. In a thousand years or so none of it will survive, well, maybe the microbes. Wildlife, ecosystems, ecology, all these subsystems and systems, will no longer exists as we see them now.

This earth maybe old in most parts of the world but the lower crusts are still fighting to reform the upper crusts we live on.

I can feel the Earth below me struggle to hold back the large forces of nature that will someday overtake all types of resistance or friction. I can feel the power behind these events. The park, as subtle as it may look, is full of power. I can't even describe it to you really. It's one of those 'you have to be there' events.

All the while, I'm with some great people who I have met my happenstance. I'm accepted into a world of rangers, park workers, nature enthusiasts, and more notably, a very special person who I have had the privilege to spend my time with.

It's finally time to acknowledge that I am capable of love again.

Standing on the crossroads

I’m covered in these sheets I don’t care too much for.

It’s layer upon layer or color, and then, above all else, there is the taint of red and off-white. They were once vibrant. They were once clean and sleek, without the build up of other materials after so many washes. They were Egyptian and amazing.

I don’t know what happened to all the pleasure. It’s a chore to me now. I feel as if I have to lie in this bed without choice. I have to become apart of the materials, without question, because I have decided to rest here, I have decided to settle.

I become so upset and uncomfortable while resting I have to strip it all off. It’s as if the material itself is corroding me. It can be one of the worst feelings in the world if you are uncomfortable, if you are unsure about your surroundings, if you want out.

It’s not so bad in the summer, though. Half the time I don’t even have to think about it, or my place of rest, because there is so much to do. My mind is occupied with so many outside activities, or visitors, or the sun itself can blind you enough to make you unaware as to what is really going on.

The sheets, well, they are usually on a piled on the ground

The Beach

I’ve taken to going to the beach, surrounded by the like minded with my headphones on, blasting out the noise, the conversations of the people around me. I can’t take listening to ‘them’ anymore; the conversations about nothing, the expressions of want, the gossip, the internalized hatred so many have.

The things I hear are nothing but the ego making itself apparent. The point is proven with every new muse I find, and for that, I understand. I’ve battled with my ego all my life. I know the constant struggle.

I’m not inspired by people anymore; it’s been a while since my peers could do anything but become filler in my past time, or reinforce my need to separate myself from all this damage.

I don’t mean to be raw or harsh, or even superior about it all, but I don’t know, I just don’t feel many connections, or if I do, it derogates into these failures, into people I no longer understand or care to learn from. When I dig deeper, I tend to see too much and then become disappointed.

So yes, human understanding; I understand them plenty. But unfortunately it's viewed through the eyes of a cynic.

I think it’s me getting older. I mean, the older I get, and the more I feel that I need a break. I just need to throw myself into a tank where no stimuli could enter. I could feed off of my thoughts, and sooner or later, just have the nothingness I so long to feel, around me.

I said this in my previous post, but the whole world has been brainwashed by accomplishment. They all want the ‘six figure income’ and the promises of a lifestyle that the illusionary masses have. It’s not my world…

In the distance I can see a ship. There are crates upon crates of cargo containing all the useless things we consume. The ship, wow, it’s a’ long one. I’d say about 10 stories or so in apartment speak. I can’t tell you the furlongs, or whichever way boats are measured for that knowledge is lost to the common man.

The lower part of the ship has a large, light blue strop running parallel to an identical strip of red. The two lines of color span the entire length of the ship. I guess it’s to separate it from people who actually have some history with this vessel, an identifier.

The background… Oh it’s such a beautiful place to life. In the background I see snow capped mountains. I see the Olympic Mountains in all their glory. I see the wall that separates one city from another. I see myself on them at times, watching the view while huddling next to a light fire. There’s beauty in this country. I mean, you won’t find it right away but when you have a mental repositioning, you’ll start seeing things more clearly.

It’s too bad I am surrounded by irony.

I wonder how many people actually take everything in.

Untitled

I never understood commercials. I mean, yeah, I understand how they make money, and how they convince the watching public that this is something they need, for either status or necessity, but why not advertise other things?

Instead of watching the next model of the new BMW sedan, in its cold and calculated approach, in its “this is what will make you live and be noticed” mentality, why not show a commercial about people who do good things?

I’d love to see uplifting messages, or tips on how to be a better person, or good deeds done throughout the world. I wonder how that would change the mindless views attitudes and outlooks. Replace a negative with a positive, and yeah, who knows…. There’s no money to be made, but redemption would be just around the corner.

That’s not our world though. They will stick to the buying, and the owning, and the showing; I wonder how I fit into such a mindless society. How can I wake up each day and pretend that everything is ok, when the reality of it is, I should be protesting on the streets denouncing the evils in the world.

What happened to spirituality? Or the denouncement of the ego? The sins of the flesh? What ever happened to our values?

I tell you; every time I see a new condo go up I become that much more repulsed by the strangers that surround me.

If this society is going to make it, we have to start thinking and living a certain way.

Wars are waged because of greed – sometimes ownership, or profit – it’s rarely fanatical anymore. We are not living in a world of emperors seeking the next conquest; our wars are fought with profit in mind. With the global economy teetering in the balance of who owns what, I think we are starting to see the motivations of our leaders.

So yeah, I feel awful every time I think about it. I’d like to just pack up, sell everything I’ve accumulated over the past five years, besides a few memories and books, and head out to the desert on my own. It would be very “into the wild”; although I don’t think I’d go around shooting animals and stuff. Yet, the world I live in doesn’t accommodate this.

The desert isn’t free anymore. There’s ownership, and permits, and space allotted to the people who abide by these rules. It seems like the world is be compartmentalized and rented out to the highest bidders. I know I’m just being bitter about it all because there’s nothing I can do. I can make my own statement and watch the glazed over looks I get from people who are already too entwined in the ‘systems’ around us. I could watch that, but it would only attribute to my sadness.

I’m going on a journey soon and it's going to be awesome.

You’ll see.

** We get no second chance in this life

Cat Power

I suffer from bouts of romanticism, the kind only an artist wallows in, or a sensitive kid, or a man who has grown into something he no longer recognizes. As I struggle to make ends with being creative, to rip my soul out of this shell and let all see who I truly am, all I can think of are the words that have been already displayed, and taught, and respected – admired, when the only thing I wanted was to create them myself. I am not sure what story I can tell anymore, for all the good ones have already been taken.

Are you writing this all down?

I think my life is this big romance with the unknown and slowly I get closer to it each day

Today’s one of those days, you know, when reflecting is the only thing you have, when you become wish-washy with life and start thinking about the bigger picture(s). It’s when all you see is house after house, person and person, neighbor upon neighbor of sameness, of locality, of all the things you despised when you were younger. And then, you wake up one day and ask the all important question “Why?”

There are some things that you just don’t want to realize, because realizing could very well cause you to see how fucked up everything is. I like the quiet life that ignorance brings me, as I forget about the rest of it, the seedy part of my existence; the parts that make me think I am less of a man.

Oh, the things I have done to be happy. You couldn’t imagine the depths one would go to; you couldn’t even suggest those things to someone considered ‘normal’ and even get an approving reply.

Departure and Worry

Thanks to the world of technology, I am able to remove friends from my life electronically. I removed one today, and because I felt so much power from the action, I decided to remove one more. Now, there is no Facebook trail, no mobile phone numbers, no e-mails or msn history; I am now free and can begin my life anew.

I think it's a new time in my life. I'm letting go of all the bullshit, all the what-ifs. I'm not going to chase after the impossilbe.

To be continued....