Saturday, June 30, 2007

Ode to John Lennon`s Diary

Sometimes I write poems
Some people read them
Sometimes I sit in a cafe for hours
Sometimes I smoke some cigarettes
Sometimes I like the music in the cafe
Sometimes I don`t
Sometimes I talk to the people there
Sometimes someone tries to sell me something
Sometimes I buy something
Sometimes someone asks for a few pesos
Sometimes I give it
Sometimes a pretty girl walks by
with a smile
Sometimes a pretty girl walks by
with a frown
Sometimes a man walks by with a dog
Sometimes it`s an old woman
pulling along a little child
I could have been a lawyer
I could have been an actor
I could have been a writer
I didn`t feel like selling my soul
So, instead, I sold my body
and became a plumber
Sometimes I think about the past
but not very often.

Friday, June 29, 2007

On Down the Line

An imaginary line
From birth to death
Trace back before,
Ahead beyond.

“If you want to see the past,
Look at the present.”

I saw a bird being fed by
another, on a wire, reflected
in glass table mirror.

I hear the music for the
first time again, dancing in
the coffee house in the
morning, no one there…
a woman sees me and smiles.

Jokes about the bad movie
after it’s over…”the next
one will be better..” what
next one?

“If you want to see the future,
Look at the present.”

Sometimes I’m haunted by the
feeling of wanting more.
When I rediscover where I am,
there is only the breeze on my skin.

Poem to My Teacher

Poem to My Teacher

All of your students. no matter
How much time we spent with you,
If we only met you once,
If we worked with you for years,
If we lived with you,
Wanted more time with you.

I said it once: “I want to spend
more time with you.”
You answered: “We’ll make time.”

I knew, from the way you said it,
I shouldn’t bother to call your secretary.

From the way you said it, I knew
We would “make” time.

The longing never ends.
Your clear message always echos
In my mind like a bell

Thursday, June 28, 2007

A Recent Memory

I was about six or seven....watching TV. A show was about to come on. It was called "The Big Picture". I thought someone was going to tell me what life was all about. I got very excited. When the show came on, it was about the military...propaganda, really. I became very disappointed. I remember thinking at the time:
"This isn't going to be as easy as I thought."

"The Big Picture:TV's Legendary Military Series"

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Consumer

Chewing the world to bits.
Spitting it into heaps of trash
Faster and faster.
Ravenous, out of control, red
Eyes bulging out, slavering,
Gnashing the teeth, tongue
Hanging out, hair standing on end.
Sweating with effort of eating,
Burning up as fast as it refuels.
Swallowing everything in it’s path.
Hands shaped like shovels…
Hands shaped like knives and forks…
Legs like pistons.
Unstoppable, insatiable, insensate.

Your not going to like this....

Better not read this one....scroll on down to something else....I mean it...the poems may not be very good, but they aren`t going to piss you off. Really, think about it... I`ll give you a moment..............................................................................................................

Well, if you`re still here, you`re asking for it....ok then.

You`re probably wasting your life... 99.9% of the people in the world are. One could say it`s not your fault...you were born into a situation and you went along with it. It seemed to be the right thing to do: everyone else was doing the same thing. But, if you didn`t have to worry about survival...if you got an education...you really have no excuse. If you had any time on your hands to look around yourself and notice what was going on, you had time to ask a question. And the question you should have asked is "What really is going on?"

"At the college interview I couldn’t tell
Them what I wanted to be, which may be
Why I didn’t get into Harvard…I hadn’t
A clue…I just wanted to find out what
The fuck was going on with having a life
Anyway…which no one I encountered
Even seemed to consider…like life was
A freight train I was on, going where no
One knew, but I had to get with that
Program, in some way, to be some how
Successful at something, while, all the
While, we were all barreling along towards
Some unknown destination. It never made
Sense to me…"

Forget about religions...none of them have a clue. They all believe something, which is anathema to the truth. It took till college till I found what I was looking for...Buddhism. It made sense to me right away. It still took a couple of years before I could meditate properly...it was hard to get into it. And it took years and years of practicing it before it ever seemed to be making a difference. Now I can say it was the only thing in life I did that was worth doing...and still is.

It's hard to find the Buddhist teachings...meaning it's hard to connect to them. It's said that it's as if you were a turtle in the ocean and somehow you managed to find a yoke in it and got your head through it. You could read a basic book on Buddhism and it might not make any sense to you. This is due to your karma.....your energy momentum that causes you to be interested in whatever you are attracted to. So, even if you meet the Buddhist teachings, there might be no connection.

I wasn't trying to insulting anyone. The truth is the truth no matter what it says. Most people go on in their lives as if nothing is happening around them....as long as they have their cars, their pizza, their retirement plan, they could care less. And if they don't have some of those things, they think that once they get them they won't have to worry or think about anything else. Stupid.

Buddhism is not a religion. Sure, it's been organized a lot in different parts of the world, and that's created some problems.
But if you read the Buddhist teachings themselves, you can see that there are no beliefs in them. They are a path to the awakening of the mind. They are practical and rely on critical intelligence. They are the science of the mind. Medical people are just discovering some of the benefits of meditation. Scientists recognize their importance in the study of phenomina,
These are recent revelations to science, but these teachings have been around for 2,500 years.

Scientific rationalism was touted as being saving grace of mankind...it would solve all the problems. What science didn't count on was the greed of the human mind, which has taken scientific discoveries for the sake of greed and used them selfishly, the result being life on the planet is in danger of being destroyed. So much for another belief.

There isn't much time left to wake up before it's too late. The handwriting is on the subway wall. Indigenous peoples have been saying this for hundreds of years by now. I'm just one of hundreds of people saying the same thing. Maybe only 5 people will read this blog....maybe one will hear what I'm saying....maybe none. But I have to say it....

"If your children knew how pathetic you are, they'd murder you in your sleep." Frank Zappa to the audience at Whiskey-a Go-Go....circa 1969

"One may imagine the sight of billions of ants on board a driftwood, floating on a fast-runnning stream. The ants are apparently unaware that their driftwood is nearing a cararact. They seem to be even ignorant of the fact that they are on a driftwood. If they were aware, how could they afford to hate one another, scheme against one another, and be occupied with greed and hostility?
The minute when their driftwood falls down the cataract, what would anything mean to one or another ant, friend or foe?
This pathetic sight is nothing but an epitome of today's mankind." Tamo-San from the Book of Last Chances

I warned you.


A couple of places to start:

Books: The Myth of Freedom, Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism...both by Chogyam Trungpa
Zen Mind Beginner's Mind...by Suzuki Roshi

Website: www.chronicleproject.com.....website of Chogyam Trunpa's legacy

Monday, June 25, 2007

Ode to a Blank Wall

You are so uncompromising
it’s impossible to make you flinch.
I have no idea what you think or feel
I don’t know how to get through to you
You are my koan…I sit in front of you
for hours, my mind struggles with
your blanksmanship. Can’t you show me
something…a stain, a crack, a pattern…
to make me feel less alone? Your
smug indifference is infuriating…but
I admire your stoic tolerance for sameness.
I project my movies on you…you seem to
become many things…but when the movie
is over and the light comes on, you are there,
supreme blank wall, master of us all.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Haze in the Valley

Haze in the valley
Mountains covered with green
Life can’t keep from exploring every crack
“And they call those trees”….a big joke…
cracked up two enlightened guys.

Friday, June 22, 2007

Homeland Hippie

There's plenty of room in phenomena
for all of us. How can we say we were
born and are going to die, when
phenomena are endless?
Like a twinkle in your father's eye,
we came about, we will dissolve into space
like a sigh.
Like clouds, like a thought, we appear
in a kaleidoscope moment that lasts our lives.
We can't take it with us, or even
have it while we're here...letting go would
be a good idea.
Man up to the music, wallflower,
join the dance.
Only one degree of separation makes the
seemingly real a big deal.
No one's going anywhere...whenever
you arrive, you're still here.
I'm just a Homeland hippie, homefried,
tie-dyed and true blue.
The Sixties chance renaissance
metaphores me.
I'm waiting for metaphormorphosis,
when I'll be that cloud, that eye twinkle,
and pay my two bits
for another ride

Thursday, June 21, 2007

White Neon Chaos

Meat Dream Neon Chaos

Cool breeze and butterflies…it always starts some way or another. In the thick of things before you know it. It never starts at the beginning…always in the middle. There never was a beginning. It’s not easy to blow someone’s mind with words…colors are better…or music…or images. Words are abstract…they may refer to things, but are not the things themselves. There is no “objective correlative” possible…maybe if you’re an Englishman
frozen in mind. …but then the best words can do is break the ice.

Lost in a maze of minarets…harsh flute sound wafting embedded in incense of cardamom,
sweat and offal. You don’t need that veil….you’re hidden enough as it is, eyes glass encrusted by millennia of custom…get off the fucking camel…it ain’t going anywhere except another desert…if you want oasis you have to dig it…come natural like hippie goddess naked in the sun. The truth still applies, even though the sixties was a bogy on
control’s screen…no one’s come up with something as good before or since. It couldn’t hold together ‘cause of chaos…but I’ve got the pictures.

BLAM!! BOOOOM!!!! Hand me down water for thirst…your cool breasts shining dangle diamond flesh dreams…white men all clazy clacking tongues incense of sense in front of twisted mirror….believe at your own risk….it all boils down like coffee pot…I want to break the piggy bank…uptight sweating bullets never get you laid…clouds in the sky why not they don’t think…even the pyramids want a little more time…click clack skitter scutter full throttle out there ‘cause no here here. The the invention of priest control
freak…priest, politician, general all lost in toys dangerous to take seriously then you’re fucked for real. Ok to play, since it is, but it belongs to no one….and it never really was.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

free zone

free zone not been here not much lately
space is the thing the not thing the thing
your mother never told you about before
your wedding night and then it was too late
hanging like a note from a flute in the air
fruit on tree for future presently the sunshine
if you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there
ashes in someone’s mind can tough
transition here from present to changes all the
time suddenly not like moving to Berkeley
and back to whatever more than the new Levis
you could sell in China for five hundred bucks
nevermore had a different meaning then as the
moon came from behind the clouds in flash
of memory of the day’s behind meanwhile

Mexico ala Bukowski

People go to market in the morning,
buy their chickens, nopalis, tostadas,
the woman with a huge fold of skin
masking half her face…the burn victim,
flesh tight, drawing his fat lips into a
permanent grin. No escape from reality
here…Disneyland’s a gringo horror show.

Mexican music in the air.
like the salsa ever present at comeda.
It’s not elevator muzak …no one’s
going up…not too far down to go.
Hombres in various stages of drunkenness
throughout the day…various degrees
of filth…there, like the music, like the
intestinal parasites omnipresent like
church bells letting you know you’re
not dead yet, but someone’s God
is waiting.

I like it…I like it all…women trussed
up like flowers…machos with pencil
thin moustaches…teenage boys with
the look of “what the fuck?”…girls
carrying their little girls…ancient
madres in skirts with apron… a dog
lying on the sidewalk with a tumor
on his back as big as a melon.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Something Happened

Something happened...

and I found myself
in a jungle
on a prison break...

and I found myself
at bat, two out,
bottom of the ninth,
down by one...

and I found myself
on a balcony in Tepoztlan,
eating pizza...

and I found myself
at the cocktail party
from Hell. "Why did I
ever write that book..."

and I found myself
seventy years old,
on a park bench,
" I wasted my life"...

and I found myself
breathing out
for the last time.

Two Short Poems

My Trailer at SMC

My trailer is like life itself.
After a while,
you get used to the smell.



Written in a Dream:

Achievements are blades of grass
that fly in the face of death
like straw in the wind.

Mars Needs Women

Truth needs awareness.
Enlightenment needs sentient beings.
Stupidity needs Republican bobble heads.
The earth needs a break.
The pot needs stirring.
Your sister needs my body.
Comedians need an audience…
And a good joke.
An actor needs a director.
A director needs a casting couch.
An army needs a war.
A repressive government needs propaganda….
And a police force…
And a controlled media…
And people that would rather believe….
And a whole lot of couch potatoes….
And self centered egotists…..
And somnambulists.
Sleep needs to wake up.

Mistaken Identity

I thought it was a dog….
But it was a shadow.
I thought it was love…
But it was fear of being alone.
I thought it was my process…
But it was a fantasy.
I thought they were my family…
They turned out to be strangers.
I thought they were strangers…
They turned out to be my family.
I thought I knew who I was…
It turned out I was confused.
I thought I was confused…
It turned out I was enlightened.
I thought it was my life…
It turned out to be a dream.

Monday, June 18, 2007

If You Can Read This

If you can read this
You’d still be alive,
Or, pretty damned close.
If you can read this
You could see the mountains
In front of me.
All you’d have to do
Is find the magic slipstream
Flowing from your heart.
It was never invented by any poet…
Been around since fire.
To find it, you have to actually look.
I know that’s asking a lot,
But what the hell else are you doing?
Presiding over a foundation
Built on sand? Have a near death
Experience…you’ll find out real
Quick what matters.

On the Bus

Clouds not bad fluffy hanging low
Sun up rain postponed had coffee
On a bus careening down mountain road
I only hope the driver had his coffee
Not really there it’s just an image
Of the crazy world we live in now
No time to punctuate what’s going on
The next curve coming up fast
I wish Neal was at the wheel he’s dead
Who’s in charge no one ever was
Alligator in my lap not tame but there
I practiced what I see is clear
Love for the passengers pay attention
Here we are landscape flying by
A rollercoaster going down first big drop
Whee! Why? Who wants to know
If you can laugh at this joke you’d be
Home by now did I get born so I could
See fireworks at the end of time that
Would be a neat trick what’s going to
Pull our ass out of the fire little lizard
On my porch doesn’t know.

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Impeach Bush?

Kennedy Airport

My flight was three hours late. I met a guy outside where I was having a smoke…worked in the arts. He fled England for the same reasons I fled the States…the repression, fascist
bullshit…if you’ve been paying attention…you know. He was a nice guy…didn’t mind talking...smart. It occurred to me what’s happening is not just Germany in the Thirties.
The whole world is involved….or will be. It’s the rise of the machines. Artificial intelligence….the virus, as Burroughs said, infiltrating people’s minds…so they become mindless…numb…in denial. How else can you explain the fear in peoples’ eyes in the supermarket? Why are people so afraid of each other? There’s an elephant in the room....and it stinks..

All my new friend wanted was a simple life, though he had been involved in a professional scene for years. He wanted clean water, simple food, a girl he could make love to. He sounded like a survivor of a holocaust. Survivor: The World Game, is beginning to manifest. There are still places to go to avoid the virus…. for now.
In the States, if they take away the guns and the internet…then there will be martial law.

"100 Esteemed Professors Question 911 Comission Report"

See: http://www.WantToKnow.info/070618professorsquestion911

Little Deaths

I see the fire go out
when you think you've suddenly
seen me for real.

The only thing that's died is you.

Why do we want to know so much
when knowing is a grave?

When your love dies
I die too.

Thought #4

Good Morning.

There's fog burning off in the valley I'm looking at from Mirador #5. Rainy season, and nature is greening up. Muy Tranquilo
on my balcony this morning...the fog, the sun, humming birds, silence adorned with Enigma...what every New Ager seeks during those expensive weekends of self-exploration. It's here, right now, in front of me. Did I create this world, or did it just happen? But it all will change. My girlfriend's mother is a hard case...A Jewish mother in Mexican drag.....hypercritical...
double Capricorn. We eat comeda, her, my girfriend, her son, and me. I'm glad I don't speak Spanish, that way, her mother can criticise me to them, and I can make jokes about grandma to them...the grandmother doesn't speak English and mother and son are bilingual. It works out pretty well for all of us. It's the perfect family unit. I'm back from Vermont and the rest of
me has arrived. You know that special effect they do in movies? Like when the actor moves they leave a ghost-like trail?
That's they way it feels when I travel...my ghost has to catch up with me. How could people not be aware of what's happening
in this era...I mean, if they are the least bit open eyed? The Hopi, the Mayans, Tibetians and many other cultures have made predictions for the time we're living in. And all you have to do is look around to see it's true. I don't mean to be fatalistic, not at all. My point would be, do what you need to do, now, before it's too late. Don't wait for early retirement. That's always good advice..even if we were living in a thousand year dynasty. Seize the day.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Over and Over

Over and Over

Here in Mexico
On the lam from
Uncle Sam
A stone in the garden
Hanging with the dogs.
Never thought I’d go Mexico,
I didn’t know.
Atmosphere of Lowreyan single
minded purpose…to self destruct
as it creates. Streets meant
to absorb civilizations’ worth
of disaster…century after century…
the rock buildings and streets carved
out of the mountains…,the
gods not yet fled….blood and water
flowed down these streets…
and the streets are still here.
So are the dogs.

Prose: El Mirador

Miradore #5

A pipe and a jar and a storm coming in…just finished practice…nothing could seem better. Winds blowing…
can’t see a rain line, wall of water drops in the distance…may not come that
way. There’s a hole in the clouds coming my way. Frank Sinatra did it his way, but
that didn’t stop the thunder I’m hearing now. He’s dead now anyway….I wonder if he did that his way, …shotgun in his mouth like Hemingway? It’s a little windy up my way, and the thunder is getting louder….I’ll put the computer on battery soon…go for a silent running…yes, drops are beginning to blow on me..I’ll have to move soon…start another paragraph….soon….”Where are we going? Planet Ten!!…When are we going? Real
soon!

Once, when I was a kid, we built this fort, see? And it was boards held together by
twine….and the cracks stuffed with tall grass…at the edge of some trees. One afternoon we were there, see? And a wall of water….like someone was dumping a bucket…was coming towards us across this field of grass… it was a storm line… going maybe 7 miles per hour…and the fort was built at the base of a tree, so, we had two look-outs in the tree…and this WALL
of water is coming at us…not that it would have hurt us, but for some fun reason, we
got SCARED, and the two look-outs about fell out of the tree getting down, all of us giggling like mad idiots… and we all got inside the fort, almost before the rain hit….and we all
felt victorious for a moment. Then, someone got the bright idea of holding a lighter to the dry grass….the grass lit…we couldn’t put it out…it burned the string…and the
whole fort collapsed as we scrambled out. That was a very complete day.

Earth changes…right…one time in South Carolina, I was sitting on a porch across
from my house on the neighbor’s porch whose house I was plumbing at the time…
our mutual neighbor…somewhat a timid fellow…was mowing his lawn …a house further down…A GTO…loud music…big fellow behind the wheel….screeches down this quiet street….the timid neighbor shouts: “HEY!”
GTO screeches to a stop….backs up, screeching….Big Fellow in Car, mean looking dude, shouts something at timid neighbor….Big Fellow turns towards me and my friend…also a Big Fellow.
I get up as he’s watching….walk a few steps…..pick up a big, heavy piece of pipe, and
go sit down again casually with my friend, both of us staring at the GTO. Big Fellow in GTO watches us...is quiet for a moment….GTO drives slowly away….

Earth changes….oh….right….I got distracted….from what, I wonder…oh, yeah….the
“Big Deal” ness of earth changes…..Just don’t live on top of a volcano or in a desert..
live where there’s some food….don’t live on an ocean or in a seismically unstable area,
or an area in he path of hurricanes….Eugene will do nicely…..or, Tepoztlan…
YEAY!!!

The cloud eye turned west and the clouds are rather uncertain as to their role in the sky,
as if they were bureaucrats waiting for an assignment…..but they linger over the
mountains, casting a cool shadow and peace. Fucking magic, man, I can feel it
rising up out of the earth…am I drawn to magic now….magic….not coming
out in the words I’m writing now….but it’s here like the wet in the peachflower of
your lover’s secret desire.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Friday, June 8, Wall Street Journal

"Clearly, Mr._____'s government has run out of ideas and options. The key to stabilizing this anarchic state cannot be
"stabilizing the current regime", when the regime itself relies on fanning the flames of religious and ethnic terrorism
to justify it's undemocratic hold on power....Mr. ____'s regime needs the threat of an "Islamic takeover" to keep the rest
of the world community supportive of it's continual grip over ____."


Name that country:

1. France
2. Iraq
3. United States
4. Pakistan
5. Russia

Are Us

Goodnightcandystarslipstreamdreamoffallingintosleepness is us

Itwasn'tyourfaultI'mtellingyouI'mdeadyourparentfriendwhomever is us

Ican'thelpthesmalldogisbarking is us.

Whocaresyoustillhavetoshitwhichiswhatmanyprisonerslearn is us

Early Morning Tepoztlan

Dew on the glass table on my balcony...
haze covers the mountains like a blanket
on a sleepy body. Phil Spector is on trial
in L.A. for murder. He wears a blonde wig.
No one would suspect anything has happened
here in Tepoztlan for thousands of years....
lives coming on and burning out...flickering
like candles on an unseen shrine...no big
deal...like corn that just grows when it rains.

Mexican street dogs ignore you,
unless you have food...then they come up
quietly and wait. Sometimes they get the chorus
going good at night, howling in unison.
Sometimes at night they all seem mad.
Atmospheric emotional barometers?
We're all connected in electric gelatinous
space. Phenomina are electric display
that seems concrete so we can get to work
on time, pay our bills..

Thought #3

Leaving Vermont for Mexico for another six month stint. "How's that working out for ya?" That's a very useful phrase....
when someone tells you a long story about themselves and you don't really know how to respond. An alternative is:
"Let's not talk about that now." Very useful. Fog again...and crows. Most of what I write is creative...I just don't have that much information so I have to make things up. "Bobo" in Spanish, silly, is what I am. I used to be more serious, but that didn't work out for me very well. Let's not talk about that now. The internet is so rich, has so much you can do with it...I'm an old fart, but my daughter has the keys to unlock a few doors for me. I saw a video on youtube yesterday...line dancing to "In a godda da vida" sp.? It was a minute of pure bobo fun. I don't know how they did it with straight faces. I saw Iron Butterfly in St. Louis around 1970. They were billed with the Grateful Dead. Iron Butterfly won the coin toss, so they played first. Never did see the Dead....the dope was too strong. The US government was reeling at the time...had no idea how to deal with the
awakening that was happening to my generation. But soon enough they found their guns and killed the Black Panthers and infiltrated the Weathermen and sold heroin and speed to the hippies, and, Bob was their uncle. We might be looking at a police state soon....don't you scoff....it can't happen here? Read Sinclair Lewis's book of that name...it sure as hell can.
That's why I'm in Mexico. It's a chaotic and corrupt country, sure...but nobody really wants a revolution there. There's too much passion. They live life too much to be obsessed with causes, although they have their share. It's a good place to learn to relax. Try it sometime.

My Generation

People try to put us d..d..down
Just because we need walkers to get around.
I'm not tryin' to cause a b..b..big sensation
talkin' 'bout my gerontization.
Things they do are all so cold...
hope I die before I get too old.
Why don't y'all fade away?
Don't try to dig what we c..c..can't
remember we say.
I'm not tryin' to cause a big sensation
talkin' 'bout my rapid aging.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

thought #2

Listening to Astral Weeks by Van Morrison. I connect it with my first love, in college..or it is connected. I didn't think I could fall in love. It came as a surprise...like this blog...like hearing the "Suprise" symphony in the coffee house in Tepoztlan the day before I left to come here this time. Hearing it brings back a memory...a body memory...how my body/mind felt at that time.
"I'm nothing but a stranger in this world" Van just sang. I feel like I'm living one of Burroughs cut ups in the flesh

Aftermath of a Brilliant Moment

Hey! This is aftermath....don't
expect too much...sure...I want
it to continue, but I know better
these moments that come and go.

What's next? More moments
barreling down the tracks of
our tears of joy and sadness,
trainwrecking all the way.

It's not a bad thing!
Everything happens!
Let go the brilliance
You cannot possess!

Thoughts #1

Most of what I post here will be poetry...but if I feel the mood to rant, it will be titled "Thoughts"...so you can know. I'm sitting on the front porch of my daughter and son-in-laws' house in Vermont. It's been mostly sunny this visit, which is quite lovely. Driving anywher here, in the summer, is a delight...the green is abundant and vibrant. The fog burns off and the sun comes out, as if nature is waking up...nature doesn't need coffee, which I see as the only difference from myself. I've taken to writing short prose pieces which might appear here from time to time. I'll title them prose, so you'll know. I'm not drinking now because I'm working with a shaman in Mexico for a while....but I have been a serious drinker in my life from time to time. I see nothing wrong with it in principle. Many people may have wasted their lives in drink, but most sober people do
the same anyway. And there have been a lot of productive drunks, so, as far as drinking as a moral issue, I think it's bogus.
We're all addicts anyway...it's a fact of life...life itself is an addiction, otherwise we wouldn't find it so hard to give it up. Many
people feel that weath is a great object to strive for, for example. But, if you notice, wealthy people can't stop accumulating wealth...they always want more...(except maybe for Bill Gates)....see what I mean? When I drink, my drinking friends are happy, and those that don't are sad. When I don't, the opposite is true. So you see, it all depends on how you look at it. As
William Burroughs said: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." There is an instinctive morality intrinsic for everyone...
unless one happens to be psychotic...which tells us right from wrong. Beyond that, I say, go for it! Wallace Stevens wrote:
"The eccentric is the basis of design." I've written both drunk and sober. Maybe when I'm not drunk, the writing is more orderly and clearer....some people may like that. But crazyness has it's part to play in the world. In the indigenous world, the odd people were likeliest to be chosen for the path of the shaman, for example. Drinking is like everything else: if you can handle it, fine...if not, you shouldn't do it. A wild turkey just appeared in the front yard. I don't take that as a sign. But it's nice to see I'm not making too many waves in my environment for a wild thing to appear. It makes my heart sing...it makes everything...groovy. I think it moved me.