sonofa

spell check is really gettin on my last nerve.....ahhhhthat's better....I see nothing wrong with bad grammar as long as it's illustrative...cause, really, isn't that what language is...painting ideas with words....god..it's like pulling gringos from the rio today...i often times convince myself that things are true when they are indeed false, and than i realize that they are are false when they are actually half-truths...that includes the previous sentince...

HAIKu

once heard the neighbors
"at it again" she whispered
she in the next room

pro cross da nation

but really I'm gonna get some benefit from this free-write...get the old juices flowing...get in the zone...I learned in my religions of the world class that way back in the day there were two major types of religions, agrarian peoples spirituality was based on the rhythms of nature and thus their understanding of time was circular. the other major group of people were nomads, warriors, hunters, who saw time more as having more a linear bent. It seems to me that this still kind of exists today with the east west culture split. he east is circular, the west linear. so, by extension, the union of these two modes of thought should be spiral....which makes more sense to me...I talked to this girl at this rally..and she said she was a philosophy major..and I wanted to engage her in philosophical topics so I asked what classes she was taking and she said she was taking this class on Heidegger..but it didn't happen because A: I was taking a break from caffeine do my mental faculties were on the fritz B: she was totally giving off a neurotic vibe which meant I would have to be totally on point and C: her means for analyzing being were very different from my own....I would spit zen-hippy nonsense while she, i imagine, spits out names and big words....really the whole event was one in which I fell totally out of place...this activism thing is totally a scene...I've never been comfortable in a scene...

it's supposed to be fun.....right?

I'm procrastinating......it's all about getting the motor movin...you gotta create your own waves to ride...mental masturbation is a poor substitute for the real thing...forgetting yourself is no easy task....I mean...really...its all about the contrast....fuck the confines of greyscale bullshit...I am free to see the world as black and white if I damn well choose...congradulations are in...for everybody...we all get it....cynicism is just as much of a crutch as religion...we are all responsible...someimes i feel i can't handle it all...sometimes I feel scared....

12 SPAM SUBJECT LINES

ten spam subject lines
enough to chapter a novel
or title a poem or forget about
your appointment
that i have heard so much about already
it's sad really
the amount of joy i take when two of these slip through
and live in the news around them
with pure %
electric medicine

new vehicles for everyone
2 new crush alerts
precious metals
cystofla

qualness
your child and santa
success kit has arrived
a secret lover is trying to get in touch with you

esclamlia
corel draw
soft for you
separate yourself from other men

beauty dialectic

Alejo: So, here we are really untalking about things...trying to experiment with form in the hopes that perhaps we can birth some beattiful new form of expression...or bullshit and rant about various inconsequentials...so...ahh....umm......what is beauty?

ANdro: Grant me a moment to puff my sage twig and i shall answer ye..
beauty, for me, is whatever catches your eye in that bright way..beauty is what youre taken with, what inspires positive reaction, however small and shrouded with your own insecurities. beauty is then like love, the same maybe..both something that is truly felt through a stripping of the ego, or sometimes a cutting.

Alejo: I like the the akgnolkedgement of the pain of beaty with the statement that it can sometimes be a cutting, but I take isue with beauty neccesarily inspiring a positive reaction. Death is overwhelmingly beautiful, however it almost never creates a oppositive reacton in the bereaved. I think the concept of beauty as positive negates the the true power of beauty which is a state beyond morals.

Andro: I think you misinterpret my use of "positive" as something that can't be an ends to the means of experiencing beauty..positive values of beauty arn't always so immediate...describe the beauty u see in death.

Alejo: I feel like we're getting combatative and veeering away from what we want to achieve..which i assume to be a better understanding on the nature of beauty...I agree that beauty deals much wih losing the sense of self...at baseline, we imagine the confines of our being as being of te the utmost importance, a wholly subjestive beauty, not th true universal beauty of which we seek...that beauy is an objective beauty...it can only be seen when we view something outside of the confines of ourselves as being important....but the more we realize the importance of the things around us the more we lose the amphasis on the imporance of the individual self.....thus is it through egoloss that beauty can be seen...death being thebiggest from of egoloss there is, because here ain;t no comin' back, it's...like...meta-beautiful.

Andro: meta-blah is a complicated way o sayin nuthin..tho yr sentiments are truly beautiful

Alejo: the fungus makes me feel alive..........sorry.......continue......

Andro: so, beauty is fully experienced in egolessness..this explodes beauty to every possible thing at all times..

Alejo: perhaps, but, and I'm totally coping from Watts here, Every posible thing, everything is the totality of all things and is thus not a single thing, thus everything is nothing...so in pure egolessness is it not just as valid to say nothing is beautiful...or put in another way...if a tree falls and no ego is there to relate to it.....

Andro: yes, im thinkin now that i believe in only subjective beauty..it's not as hopeless as it sounds... i think efforts to define beauty are defeatist in that they really just draw us away from the goal of tryin to fuse our different beauties into one.
h
Alejo:: well I guess I would be hard press to try to speak against te inherent subjective nature of all things...but here's a thought...Perhaps beauty is..or rather the recognition of beauty is the struggle aginst subjective incarceration...it is spawned from the subconsious desire to relate..to not feel alone...

Andro: while i think for the most part this is true, i dont think it necessarily describes the nature of beauty. i think that every artist realizes at some point, no matter how ardent the drive to "share" beauty, so much must still remain intensely personal and singular in its appreciation. you speak of meta-beauty, i picture the artist humbly in front of his or her own work as a feedback loop that can escape time and ego but is a closed loop. yes, we can take inspiration from the loop itself, but sometimes never from the beauty of the artwork alone.

Alejo: art and artist is more connected in my mind to expression and creation, which while it can be beautiful, is not not necessarily so. so if beauty is viewed as something that is created, it ties it down to the subjective level...on a side note i'm sick of this whole art thing...everyone is not just an artist....I think it takes away from our true nature...we are more than just creaters...

NOVEMBER2,2007CEDAYOFTHEDEAD

It's niht, ghosts alive on the stero in the kitchen. the house is empty excep me, unless there's sombebody sleepig in one of the dark rooms, but by now they might as well be awake, spooked too.
Tonight Leigh and I went to Garfield Park in the mission to look at the shrines and extend ourselves toward the air w our heels, watching faces and fingers jump up and crawl out of candles and cages with things like "shut down guantanamo" and Guillermo sure loved his marinated pork and may other beautiful and darkened things as hundreds of paper candle bag cutouts and foil-covered crosses and crossings and white, maypole swinging skeletons playing accordion and singing in spanish. i watched artists swing and balance from looped trapeses and black webby cacoons before this in berkeley, ca, lad of aerial acrobats in tights w peacock feathers.
The street and its liquor are the scaries things tonight, but only bc the;re full of real skeletons and skeleton's brides. Lots of lace and beachwood and runnin not just in them stockins.
Faced w/ yearbook photos of Giullermo and his navy posse or neighborhood posse make me spooked worse looking at the powerlines with the breathing of a piece of the sage cloud and stilted bone collections. "look, it's the skeleton of the mustache.." Im a dead man because i was toched by a fairy girl with a plastic hand on a pole. "YOU'RE DEAD!" ".n.o..w...youre dead." We scurried just out of reach but both with real screams of escape and joyful fright. A dead man already, surrounded by white faces and neighbors and former neighbors..thank g-d the bathroom line is too long for considering.
Spooked: by so many memories hammered and squished as candle bottoms muddied by so much human traffic, all at once and herded towards the dead that rule everyday so much and can today step up and prove it.
dead ones proved themselves all over my every surface. i sent wide eyes every direction and got only bony smiles and eye sockets.

Inspiration

compose. i'm writing something. i hope to inspire, but inspiration always seems to fall short...you always see thmes in novels and movies and music and books and everything else and it all aludes to the pointlessness...the underlying unchanging which bellies the illuion of change...and how its supposed to be just accepted...and how it should be seen for its inherent beauty...which it is...its loriously beautiful...but still im left wanting...you see...i get that all is perfct in its imperfection...but if there are diffrent levels of infinity, than there can be different levels of perfection, and there has to be a better form than he one we got, right? it should, then, be worth my while, worth everybodies, to move towards this better place...but just as one pushes another pulls and thigs rip, and forever need mending....and i guess that is the unchanging...the only thing that will never change is the presence of change...and goddam if thas not a beautiful paradox...goddamn if that doen't make the whole thing worth it...and goddamn if i dont feel inspired again