no one else

No one else.

Has this view.  That’s what I’d say to myself, or that thought would enter my head when I was up on a roof or out in a field or in the woods or biking down an unpopulated country road.  But then again, just now, standing in the open garage door, exhaling smoke out into the rain.  No one else has this view.  No other human on the planet can see the universe unfolding the way that I do at this very moment.  Thank you.

Think what you want about me say what you want about me, I’ll be ok.  Verbally, I can take any form I want.  Being completely enslaved by sound, you respond exactly as you’ve been programmed to, if you’re into that sort of thing.  Otherwise you giggle.  What else are you gonna do?  All things are equal.  Anyone with full mobility and average intelligence can either a) expose the violence in another publicly, so they can be properly quelled by one of either stature or “love of the kill” or whatever.  Tiny hands can deliver lethal amounts of poison.  Size is only a different dimension.

I was instructed to stop at the most beautiful spot on my bike ride yesterday.  The little chain links were whining at me and jumping at too little pressure, so I thought a quick lube job would help.  The sun was out, and from a grassy gentle slope immediate to the right side of the road, I could see a huge pile of rocks and an adorable little forest valley just past where the road had carved mechanical death-bringer out of paradise.  I meticulously hit the spots between the links, the lowest part of the chain, with my super-sci-fi bike lube.  Also hit the pivots on the rear derailleur.  As she soaked it all in, I went and took my first woodsy pee of my three during that particular ride.  She purred like a well-oiled machine after that.  Thank you, dirt, for being the fastest, most beautiful, and most perfectly matched to me bike I could have ever possibly imagined.  Holy fuck.

You know that makes you one of those mechanic-o-philes, or whatever they are.  Yeah.  Zen.  Machines use the sacred maths.  Even chemicals, actually.  Plenty of useful stuff that we continue to use because of its unique usefulness relative to what we know of its harmfulness, in creation, release, or disposal.  What can we do?  Continue to learn.  Offset costs in other places.  Clean it better than it was before you got it dirty.  Just because mother nature uses natural processes to do everything doesn’t mean we can’t direct or ask her to bring us what we would like.  It’s kinda what she’s there for, isn’t it?

Backgrounded processes accomplish timeless tasks.  Brie!  Oh god, the cheeses.  Stinkier the better.  Sashimi, wasabi, low/no-salt soy soy (packets of hfcs: no!).  Actually, most fishes and animal meats, if clean and healthfully grown.  I’ve eaten many a sacred cow.  I have made peace with the industrial factory animals I continue to consume despite efforts to the contrary.  Offsets in other places.  Banking goodwill.  I have only love.

You are beautiful.  That bitter scowl is ugly as fuck.  Stop distorting your loveliness like that.  Blasphemy!  I know the pain of beauty.  It is the pain of intelligence or kindness or belief in the amazingness of even the people who see only the last tiny few bits of pain, suffering, or doubt and fear.  I’m the one you should be afraid of.  A terrorist can zap you out of thin air or remove an extraneous limb that you will learn to work without, while I am the multi-dimensional nano-sub-electrical-virus that attaches at the base of your soul and welds its fibres to your own with magical sutures.  The mere thought of me allows you a balance, for the whirling dervishes of love and joy have a stabilizing effect.  How do you learn to rebalance yourself?  You throw yourself off balance and then catch yourself.  Without collision, all that is seen from afar is a spastic twitch.  But for whom/what/where that twitch was directed, the third eye zapper of sound.  Symbol crash.

More tea.  Shall return.  1:35 pm.

1:46.

Dear families of Madison.  I’m far too in love with all of you to ask any one of you for the kind of help which would make me happy.  I have a car/trailer of stuffs, two bikes, various bags of whatnot, but not a not.  I’m in the market for a small RV or van with decent mileage and a manual transmission, but in the mean time, I’m looking to live in a coop downtown.  I have lived atNottinghambefore, and I love it dearly and will start my journey there.  There are other options if that proves not feasible.  I’m delighted by the possibilities.  What have I decided?!?  Heh.  I guess we’ll have to see at my meeting, huh.  If I get one. Heh.  Well, let’s just say we have options.

Here’s what would be ideal:  Garage/warehouse/office/storage space, a few hours of kitchen time each week, and a quiet place where I can work ‘til the wee hours and sleep until noon every day.  Coffee shops open ‘til midnight and/or internet connections make data flow happy.

Before my ride yesterday, about 27 minutes before I hit the pedals, I glanced at my watch to see 11:11:11 am.  Yesterday was a banner day.  I am going to stop writing for a while and work on the videos I recently made.  Good trilogy, methinks.

2:03 pm.

The last of three is rendering.  They’re beautiful, as usual.

YouTube, you should let me set personal defaults for how videos upload.  Encourage use.

I’m still listening to Abraham-Hicks nearly nonstop.  When I’m not dancing to music or the radio, that is.

Joy, joy, joy!
t

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~ by LazyAssWasteoid on 2011-04-26 (Tuesday).

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