Catchers Mit, Inside Out

Fate of days keeps slipping, blood washed
Through my hands


I got all I need and nothing that I want
my hopes unspent Litchs that I flaunt
haunted phylacteries
of the
tear white
and gaunt
I'm laughing now cuz' it's hungers seed
and even when I'm stuffed
to burning, hunger's what I need
Pink-0 bastard tears by Yin Yang eyes
habits of fear make even truth lie

Jump up and hope.. that you miss the ground.. on the way back down
glancin' at edges like the answer's behind 'em

gonna bathe in bleach so I can change my skin,
redesigned like the cameleon
turf my toes on doesn't matter cuz the air's on brake again

Pale blue's the brightest hue that there's ever been
I'm necromancer white reflecting all the light
keeps the abyss wrapped and tight
but my colors are bleedin' gray
"gray's a shade not a color"
well then I guess that I'm a shade, I'll give off star shine shadows


....and people ask me why I'm always hungry

A Man - Alanis Morissette

Felt like this too often
~Sol


I am a man as a man I've been told
Bacon is brought to the house in this mold
Born of your bellies I yearn for the cord
Years I have groveled repentance ignored

And I have been blamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended

I am man who has grown from a son
Been crucified by enraged women
I am son who was raised by such men
I'm often reminded of the fools I'm among

And I have been shamed
And I have relented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And I have been shamed
And I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended

we don't fare well with endless reprimands
we don't do well with a life served as a sentence
this won't work well if you're hell bent on your offence
I am a man who understands your resistance

I am a man who still does what he can
to dispel our archaic reputation
I am a man who has heard all he can
cuz I don't fare well with endless punishment

Cuz I have been blamed and I have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended
And we have been blamed and we have repented
I'm working my way toward our union mended

"patriot" act

I believe that in this upcoming election as well as in current political action there is a vital issue which is being generally under addressed. That is the vitality of huge reductions to and revisions in powers to overturn privacy rights that were granted in the wake of the so called "patriot" act.
Our justice system was created to uphold Innocent until proven guilty. Now the higher levels of the Justice Dept. and the FBI (as well as other agencies) are violating the rights of citizens without notice or accountability, without even the suspicion of their own personal guilt. With no more than the assumption of the possibility that citizens might have knowingly or unknowingly associated with someone who has or plans to commit a crime. These actions are excesses and the excessive powers granted by the "patriot" act are to blame. "We do not trust government always to be run by angels, especially not this administration," said Rep. Jerrold Nadler D-N.Y. and he is very correct. The use of terror as a tactic is designed to destroy a way of living, and if we allow the legislative powers that provoke, bolster, and sustain this continued violation of our civic sovereign rights then the true weapons employed on September 11th will have been a success.


Spread the word,
~Sol

Opals Of Night

I waken dreaming of roses in a cool blue gray world which sooths and calms, a land of echoes where life is a memory and vitality the story all around me. Soft stone and air so cool it glows. Lope-padding through water carved stone galleries whose grand resonance at my foot falls reverberates solely within me rippling in the same liquid satin fashion as a black hole.
Somewhere within me I know something awakes and there are dreams of hopes to come that cool my pain and ease my smile. Even as to many they would taste anathema.
Home, where I wander wither I will within and beyond worlds in that space in between where all lights dim, all shadows flair and all incarnations of creation collide shedding soft liquid sparks like the exhalation sigh of lips from Rose petals.

Riddle Me This

what do you call someone who comes into your house with a gun and separates you from your family? What would you do if a stranger entered your life with no respect or honesty and uses the threat of force to take your siblings, your baby sister away from you even though they've never been done any harm by anyone of your blood.
What would you do? what would you call this type of person?
who do you think this is?
I'm asking honestly, I want a response from anyone who reads this, message me or send a comment whatever I don't care, I simply what to hear from everyone what type of a person it is who would do this sort of thing to someone they don't even know.

Gray

For a hint look at the picture....

Raven Song

Death is before me today:
like the recovery of a sick man,
like going forth into a garden after sickness.


Death is before me today:
like the odor of myrrh,
like sitting under a sail in a good wind.


Death is before me today:
like the course of a stream
like the return of a man from the war-galley to his house.


Death is before me today:
like the home that a man longs to see,
after years spent as a captive.



~That forgotten poet~

Crime Think

CrimethInc. Ex-Workers' Collective

Just go there, try reading any of their free information or order a few stickers to use. It's one of the more worthwhile things out there in the world right now.

~Sol

"Expectations Essay" (Just because....)

alright so this is one of those silly essays from collage that often don't do much in the way of anything... however I was unusually forthcoming on this one so I figured why not I'll just post it here and it'll be somewhat interesting for what it's worth *grins*

peace all

Sol


Expectations Essay

My expectations for time spent at the University are to develop my abilities in studying and research. Also to expand my knowledge base on the whole and to develop more detailed and specific knowledge and skills in my chosen areas of study. Those areas are Sociology, Psychology, Philosophy, Political Science, and Software Technology. The goal of these areas being combined in my study is to create new methods of learning and study so that everyone will be more able to learn than they are currently equipped to do by the time they finish most High School and/or Collage curricular systems. Further I seek to design an informational systems analysis system to map the broad trends of human cultural, political, and economic behavior such that (much like is currently done with the weather) the probabilities of given events based on current (or theoretical) policies could be determined with greater accuracy.
Additionally I wish to program advances in cryptography and personal privacy suites that is based on a “smart” design so as to enhance the integrity of personally privacy in the face of all current and continuing violations by both corporate and governmental institutions who have in each case blithely disregarded the fundamentals of the constitution for the sake of convince in perpetuating their personal agendas. I hope to make sufficient money doing this research and development work such that I am able to acquire land of my own and build an ecologically sound and sustainable living environment for myself and what could in brief be termed my family. To these ends I seek to develop my own ability to think clearly, analytically, and (most importantly) creatively. To enhance my own knowledge base and to expand my network of like minded persons so that I have a larger peer group within which to frame questions as to my current methods and to co-operate with on the development and implementation of new means to remove the current repugnant social trends towards materialism and homogeny. And to afford myself the opportunity to associate with a larger number of persons who possess the intellectual insight and personal integrity to make their choices based on their own sight and paradigm without distortion from the current popularity of given fashions be those guised in political, economic, medical, chemical, social, or theological garb. As a more immediate step I am taking courses with the intent to enter grad school and possibly to transfer to the University of Calgary in Canada due to their internationally pre-eminent computer development and research department and also due to their focus on interdisciplinary studies which are integral to the types of learning I currently seek. The degrees that I seek eventually are a PhD is Psychology with specializations in Forensics and Behavioral Finance. Both of these are areas that deal with the motives for given actions and developing profiles of behavior both as it pertains to group trends and to individual persons so as to predict probable future actions. And a degree in computer programing and development. This is so that I am able to provide the software support and computer applications side of my new learning and behavioral analysis systems. To summarize my focus in my time as an undergraduate are to learn how people learn and what are effective ways to study and also to learn how people operate in groups and individually as well as the programming skills to describe this knowledge in a digital paradigm.

Roses

"You darling are a true gentleman, you know how to treat a lady, so it seems. People say diamonds are the way to a woman's heart but that is entirely incorrect.
BUt yet I am still to wonder why a rose represents love if a rose dies."


And my response:


all things die, or so they say, but I rose will last for years and years. If you take a rose even cut and open the end to place it in water, floating there in the solution that was likely life for us all sometime way back. The Rose will grow small roots allowing you to, if you so wish, move it into soil and keep it watered and sheltered. After that you may move it yet again to the out of doors where it will flourish and grow into a bush of it's own producing many roses and even tho' the buds may wax and wain there are always more to come from the bush that is the core of the rose and there are always seeds for another day from each bud that's danced it's waltz and come to rest.
To me when the rose is looked at as a whole, to show life rather than as a token only. It is then as you see it's roots and it's seeds, it's leaves and thorns all along with the 'jewel' of it's buds and blooms, that is when our roses truly become a symbol of love. For they remind us that love will change but if we care for it love will also grow and endure even if during it's time it will wax and wain through many cycles just as does the rose with it's blooms throughout it's rather long life.

There is another way to look at this just as apt, even if beauty fades, even if love or ourselves may die there is still joy to be found. The petals of a rose inspire something in the heart, the beauty strikes a chord and for a time the heart is lifted by these wings of joy. Perhaps it is sad when these wings have flown themselves till exhausted and must have new inspiration to fly again, yet even so once our hearts were exulted to the sky. The exultation does not have to be immortal to be real, or to be savored. And there is then the chance to seek it anew.

Together these show the rose, as love, to be both fleeting and eternal, for having seen a rose is not that image left on your minds eye ever after? Have you ever forgotten roses where since you learned of them?
The rose is at once both transient as it's smallest petal and lasting as it's largest root. So too is love, we must simply remember that love, like the rose, is alive and needs care or like the rose it will wither and die if starved of sustenance.

It's how I strive to treat both romance and friendship, for in the end they are not so truly different than one breed of rose is to another.

Regards,
Sol

A glass raised to Max and Orsen, if only we'd heeded you.

Sorry about the spelling all, but I hope you enjoy the content

~Sol~


Are we living in an Iron Cage?



Long before I heard of Weber and his theories I grew up with this frightful visage looming over the prospect of coming history. What I did not understand was that my isnulated alternitive life had shelided me from what had already taken place within much of the world and that which was still marching steadily forward.
From McDonleds in Costa Rica to T.G.I. Friday's in Prauge the homonginzation of world culture continues. And it's stripping us of our basic humanty. Humans learn and grow primarly when they encounter something new, and our multinational corprate bearucries have been systimaticly rememoving all need for truely new experiences whever they find it. Consider, if you are able to go to the same restraunt and order the same thing in the same language on both sides of the ocaen and three continents without 'breaking a sweat' what kind of new oppertunites for learning does that provide? But it doesn't stop there, what happens to the 'consumer' (even the term it's self is an unfortunte capital/corprate margenlization) in the form of monochromatic experience and mediocir (at best) products. That is secondary to the effects on the working force. Those people who make whatever deep-fat-fried proten slab or plastic widget. They are treated increasingly as less valuable and more universally replaceable than even their product. Imagen for a moment that not only can anyone walking down the street in your country take your job but most people walking down the streets of some other contintent could do so as well. How deeply does it strip your cultural identiy when one of your primary rolls negates your sense of personal value, or indeed of the concept of you being a unique person. The degradation further continues as unions are destroyed or undercut in the multinational globelization within which we live and as oversight continues to mount. And there's the real rub, these beaurcratic National governing bodies, NGOs, and IGOs all have analysts who can (and do) tell them the truth... that people are not going to find this unnatural method of living conducive to happyness and thus are likely to object. Hence you see levels of military preeption abrod by our current Pax Amarican regime but much more subtily you see the national and internation oversight growing in areas such as civil liberties and econmics. Welfair is down, medical benifits are down, social security is failing, and fewer jobs offer any retirement and of those that do fewer offer one which is investment compensated for inflation to ensure a "living wage" after you leave the work force. We can (ironicly) turn to China for an example extream example of how this system is playing out. With a few elites benifiting deeply from the work of the masses and the specilists in key fields being romanced into colaberation by privlages and sweetheart deals. It is enough to make Marx and Engles spin in their graves. And then there's the oversight, the camras at every intersection in the U.K. and most cities with in the U.S.A. are just a couple of examples. The insertion of GPS into almost every cutting edge portable device (including cars in the case of OnStar) the surrender of Personal phone records for investigation without the justifications of charges or warrents. They also unwarrented (both in legal documents and in social justice) wire taps conducted by the present U.S. admisinstration. The FBI's "raptor" program which allows them to steal any prsonal e-mail (or other digital media transmitted via the world wide web) without warrent or comment. These are but examples of how the Panopticon is alive and well, as well as being a stark validation to the visions of people like George Orwell (1984) and Lois Lowry (The Giver) or perahps the more contemperary cenmia compostion Equlibreum (written and directed by Kurt Wimmer). To return to the point we must ask the qustion "why?", why is it that these massive buarcies invest so much in overwhelmingly massive oversight and intervention? Because they understand that from the frycook to the journist, from the cubicle to the campus, people would quickly manifest divergent (or as the burrcrats like to call them "devient") behvior patters if they were not in a consistant (perhaps even constant) state of apprenhenction over weather they are being watched and what reprisals this might bring. And make no mistake, when we live in a time where econmoic buracratic tycoons [George W. Bush, Dick Chaney for but two more prominten American examples] direct goverment buracrocy to arrest and detain forgen citizens for the precived intention of commiting a "crime" (not act for any sort which they admit, but intention) of comitting a crime (not a crime that is currently on any of our criminal or civil books, but excutivly decreed as a crime [See the C-Span Q&A regarding the Military tribunal legislation broadcast on 9/7/06]) and where the CIA holds people in undisclosed location engaging in unspecified "coersion" for unspecified lenghts of time [stie same C-Span broadcast as above]. A world in which Passports are "bugged" with tracking devices and National ID cards are on the horizon. A world where minute microchips are set in clothing, credit cards, and IDs for the sake of collecting market data without bother to ask any of the people for their oppinnions. In this world that fear of oversight and buracratic retaliation is a well founded one. In such a world George Orwell would say "caution becomes habbit and habbit becomes reflex and reflex becomes a way of life" and our current Phychologists and Nurobiologists would agree. In such a world as this I would say not only has Webers view of an Iron Cage come to pass, but the Bars are electrified.

Chaos Dreams

from all things was chaos born before all things were made, and too all things is chaos owed for by all things is Chaos payed

What I've been up too, why I don't write so much anymore...

New armor Aprox $600; Nehantoe Apprentice Katana FREE it's a birthday present, Master work Katana $2000; Reading both translations of the Bushido, free here too, I have them both already; Saving for collage Tuition and fees/books $2500 per smester +plus books and fees, Drivers Ed Class $150, I have three friends Aaron, Tess, and Meg who are here for a littlewhile this summer, and most of them are of the "when I shall see thee next I know not". The price for the Armor is the price of flying out to have it fitted so that's another bit of a slice. Pratice time when I can get it too prepare for War, I expect to fight every battle this year at Pennsic. And I demand of myself a dedication to surviving all of my comrades. I won't be the last to fall, if I allow myself to fall at all. I play deeply with chaos magic these days, and hardly do words fit it. The unity of Zen the fusion of Wisdom and intillect, of inisght and inquest. Both burn strong. I am getting a new Laptop to last me through all of school, it will be about $4000 and some change. But I won't have to pass it off or press it up to new standards while I'm in school so that's a grave help to me. I am also reading Tom Robbins Novels as well as Saul Williems (soon). And I have started a regime of the 5 Tibitens and of yoga. My Jobs are mostly only two (the thirds is a "it could happen" thing were I pick up hours sometimes) Working for my father digging and re-envinting life in the back yard, and two calling on the phones to make survey calls.
I work to develop and RPG amoung my friends and I, and to have it published. Sometimes I put in a scrap or two more for my colleced work of poems. And I have a novel to complete, I am still working on the races desipostion and development for/within it. I'm doing that with my brother. I grow more of fire by the day at what I see around me, this program for a "fedreal licence" with a tracker chip in it is one such thing. I will not live in world that Orewell saw, burn them I won't. I've gotten two new Shini and am going to start praticing once more in full. I have three pratice knives, still without edge or point, and use those as well. I owe my brother $175 from last Pennsic, and I still owe my Uncle $3000 tho he would say it is less :P
that's the long and the sort of it, I've done the ACT and plan to be tested for Dyslexia as well as other behavioral conditions that may grant me an edge in school environments.
And now here, the Hour grows late and I must go.

All of the best to thee,
Sol

V

He's my kind of guy

A whole new world, this same place I've always been.

Have you ever had your mind blown? I just did, it’s... well mind-blowing.
I literally do not know what I’m doing or where I heading, but I can’t say I have no idea. It’s an interesting combination. So many of you who read this have been asking me “what was it like” in reference to my trips around the world... well at least to three or so new countries. And this is it, I have been shaken down like a brand new jet fighter on a test run. All parts checked and tested, stress limits pushed and thresholds crossed as well as established. I was aware starting out that I would not be able to imagine what was to come, but I’ll say it anyway, I didn’t have any idea this was what would happen. I’m not the same person any more, but I wouldn’t say I’m not me. Things have changed. I’m more literal and more truthful, more forceful and more reserved. More grounded and less bleak but more saddened and more wistful as well. I miss so much and so many people who’ve been important parts of my life. But I wouldn’t turn the clock back for anything and I do not regret this path I’ve taken. Just last night I was walking out the door of my room with a friend who commented on the wallpaper I’ve got up on my computer, saying how the girl I was with is hot. I didn’t argue, I think she is too, not that that’s why I love her but who says love has to be blind? This started a rustling through old photos for me where in I saw faces and places who’s likeness I have not beheld in an age. This age in fact, this new one of my life. It’s changed me to see what I’ve seen and the color pallets of the sights I now see have shifted subtly. I have been saying for years that I don’t miss people, or places for that matter, that I’m too used to it to miss anyone anymore. This is not true, what’s really true is that I’m so used to missing people and places and things in most present moments of my life that it’s hard to notice sometimes until I focus on someone specficly. Most of the people I know the missing someone it’s self is enough to draw their focus too it, but not for me, thus my miss perception. I cannot help but feel smaller now than I ever was before. Our nation is so much smaller than I had any concept of, and yet it’s huge compared to how I used to view it. Does any of that make sense? The tops been blown off this world of mine and everything’s expanding on both fields as it’s want to do when you don’t limit the exponents of change. I long for Europe more truly that I’d expected too. I love it’s culture and it’s history and it’s buildings and it’s sensibility. And still I am relieved to be home, yes that’s right, tho it costs me something to admit I am relived to be home. Back where things make sense, even the things I can’t stand, a return to what I am accustomed (consider the word custom) too. This world is more complex that I had any idea, and here now with so much more idea than I’ve ever had before in this life I still must say that my most sure realization is that I simply do not understand the implications magnitude and complexities of what we so blithely call “life” in the modern age. It’s well there’s just more too it than I can grasp right now. And what’s more with my new found humbleness of perspective I still must say that while there are thousands if not hundreds of thousands of people who understand this all much better than myself I still wouldn’t hesitate to believe that I’m in the top twenty percent or better as far as that goes. Which is both heartening and frightening.
I have friends whom I wish to approach about this, about well life, all of it, that I just want to sit down and share with. But I must confess I do not know how to begin. I don’t even have a phrase in my head to start describing what this feels like, not for a conversation. I suppose that I’m not doing so bad with writing this, but even with all it’s truth I’m sure you can see how mixed up and unfocused it is in some places. I want... so much more, and this is not just greater, though some of it is alterations I have sought, this is as simple as more. There’s more to life and I don’t dismiss this now as useless or sub-par and at the same time if what I was to see were the same as this I would feel cheated, this is what I’ve always been this is what I know there’s more to be had and it’s something else. That’s always the drive and I’ve always had it but stopping anywhere is what I wouldn’t be satisfied with, this stolid settling as of sediments distilling from a stream. I’d rather be the water even tho it doesn’t neccarily know where it’s headed. But who knows it might, and who knows even I might. I’ve know more than I thought I did before, and more that once at that. It is not that I do not desire that sense of safety brought on by plotting history to come before it has form of it’s own. Not that I don’t desire to hear “I’ll always be here” or to safely sit in my own house with my own furniture and feel that this is here forever for me, solid. But there’s not so much truth in that, even in the most stable and solid lives that will vanish on a hairbreadth of chance or in a heartbeats time and I have no illusions about that. I’m also used to this idea. So while I still desire that ultiment safety, it does not rule the house of my happiness nor my enjoyment and so we move forward. Happy, joyful, and somewhat apprhencive about what would be the world to come. Somewhere there’s a me who knows and who is supreamly sure of our course, somewhere inside me there’s a place where everyone who’s had something unsaid and unfulfilled, suppressed or unexpressed with me or near me, where there’s a face for them and where there’s a memory, some of these will be free, some resolved and some are perhaps too far past. But there are already shadows enough of the wistful kind in our sense don’t you agree? Why not strive for a life that beyond being full, free of regrets, and holding some meaning, is also whole. One which you simply are who you are and even when you don’t know how to be you use this as a chance to learn, not avoid it for fear of the repercussions.
There’s just so much to be done, don’t stop walking

Sol

I have had trouble writing of late, it's that I said to myself this was going to be prose not poetry. An odd commitment it may seem but if you knew my life well, and well most of you do, they you'd understand (and or do). Lately I've been stuck in rymes, and not always very good ones. it's lke the rythem of my writing has gotten stuck on "iambic pentampiter rippoff" mode or something. Just too much of it, almsot contrived but hard to get away from. Like when you play those ryme word games and then for days afterwords always think in your head of rymes for what people are saying. Sometimes lately I feel like I should be listening to "take it easy" as my constant theme song. I guess it's better than "desprado" however. Not as a song but as a theme. Either one would drive my sister crazy, or my brother too. They can't take much of the Egels.
Have you ever thought about death? No I mean really sat down and just thought about it. How little we know? how much it effects us? how it's tied into everything for our lives, or at least some of our lives. how it's the new cardnle sin and rarely examined by those who think so, and rarely emotionally confronted by those who don't. Why am I generlizing two camps? why for my own means of course as always with descriptors, they are highlts and foils to my own forecast. I dont' know what I think of death but even I think of it often, and even is said because... well it just is. It's like this box that was sitting in my room for who knows how long and both my brother and I stared at it who knows how many times until he said "a box" and then it hit me that it WAS a box, not just background "noise". Death is like that, it's background noise, but we can still trip on the box, and I don't mean die.
My dad's got a point, about many things. But I don't tell him that, because he's too wrapped up in what he's done right to work on the rest of it, like being emotionall avalible to anyone. I suppose I should be thankful, it's killed any risk of what I might have fallen into in that, I know better than to close off, and I know that in romance effection is as required as water is to plants. So thanks pappa bear, for the goods and the bads, and for the lessons even if lots of them were "and this is what you should not do..." object style in the end. Thanks, but I bet you'll never read this.
Someone said that the best form of art, the trust, is the life well lived. Well living isn't drawing breath, and it's not going to be found in a medical text book let alone art being found in one. So how do I live well? how to I follow my dreams without being a leaden weight on someone? how do I do what I love without starving or compromising? answer, just do it. Now I consider myself ot be a brave person. but this has got me intimidated. How to just do it, but do it right. There's a question, and does it have the same answer? I don't know yet, it seems like somewhere I do, but if so that part of me isn't sharing just yet or I'm just not looking right.

Kisses are like Rain, they can drown you or ease your pain.

I still kiss both my sisters and half the time my parents, who says every kiss has to be sexual to be loving? Pity we've but that price tag on both love and senuality that they have to be about possesion and about eachother. I mean sure they are often about eachother and even fit very well togather, but why make it a must when we do it's something squashed and more forced and "forceful" if you know what I mean.
There are plenty of people who I just want to love or would just love to hold, I simply want to be supportive and I am a physical person. I won't bother with the sex descriptors they've already been done here in this blog so just back read. But it's sad to me that someone has to make their choice about who they hug or who they can sit against on a couch or who's lap it's ok to fall to sleep in or who's safe to nap with. Not based on trust or effection, admiration or esteem, but weather or not they want to considering getting into euphmistic bed with that person.
Doesn't make any kind of rational sense, or intitive either for that matter. But there you are that's our socity in a nut shell. Not rational nor intutiviely sound.
ah but let us skip that rant for tonight, I'm sure you will have the time for me to go down it many more times.
Late nights, I don't spend enough time with people yet I spend altogather too much time on them. I should change that, there are lots of things I should change. But if I found a way to just be myself in every day that would be the best. I need to find this, the way, and perhaps share it too. There are so many days I wake up with the whole world swirling within my sight and it just doesn't resolve quite before the cobwebs of day decent on the mucurial pool of nights dreams. I wish to live a little dream as the poet says. One of these days I won't see it slipping away and I will have the answers, my answers at least. Until then I will just search and grow. What else is there to do? and isn't life pretty good with this as the days of it? Well anyway I don't have any room to complain, not purely on my own behalf. Sometimes though, sometimes even in peace I wish to end things as they stand... it just seems safer somehow, saner than what we'd become otherwse. But here's the choice, on this roll of the dice. Choice to find a way to do both, to find out and to shift out without simply building a blow out.
hum... was that a decent way to build a sentence? oh well, win some, lose some.
So show of hands? who wants to use the tarmac of the George W. Bush memorial airport to dry meat and fruits for winter? or who thinks they can promise solid assurances of a future for my childern, our chilern, or the childern or my borthers and sisters, that's free of the oil barons and the abject corruption of the puritan taints. Consider this my personal democricy. All in Favor?

Sol

a reflection, I used to tie myself to people with sex, used to let myself believe it HELD meaning rather than COMMUNICATED (root word commune) meaning.
i'm over it. I still have what I understand to be an over average libido. I'm a great fan of sex, more so of seduction, romance, and love making but anything out of hand isn't worth it's weight
i've let this run me much more than i'd realized or admitted, it's the choices we make and savor is often 'slaver' in our unexamined actions
the bonds of familiarity friendship intimacy are all of a nature, one might say in the same genus if we were emotional plants. so I weighted one or two branches until they nearly broke
didn't stare it in the face until the change was already made, so I'm glad that some part of me made the choice to change without "my explicit say so"
I still like sex, miss being able to share it with more people than I believe anyone realizes.
but the addiction is broken. nice to know it and fitting that it came as a repercussion of giving up "recreational chemicals" of all styles and flavors
hey it's to be expected isn't it? I've really been no fan of psychopharmacology.

FIN (or begin)

Sol

bits from an e-mail that just about covers it...

I've been hitting the books both for school and for fun, reading Palahniuk and Robbins as well as some Jorden (Chuck, Tom, and Robert respectively) and saving up some money to follow through on this hair brained idea I have. I want to find a dojo and train for a year. I may have to settle for less at first, say three months or six. But I just want to train, save money for food and rent and tuition to the dojo and just train. I'm also half planing to take a vision quest this summer, perhaps on the salt flats. Just wander in to the wild for a while and see if it won't restore of the vitality to my soul, I've been feeling a little weary lately and this rejuvenation is an uplifting plan. All in all it's been a good year I have to admit as I reflect on it, crazy and there's much of that I wouldn't recommend or repeat yet even so all in all it's been really good. I have to admit I miss New Orleans there was something vital and fresh about that place and it's sad to not have that lively atmosphere around me any longer. I'm also looking to find the name of this academy again because I wish to take up acting once more, film this time I really enjoyed what I did of it before and I would like to add some more experiences to my resume before all's said and done so I may move out to the L.A. area for a while to do that as well, tho that will come later not sooner but it's many times that this has recurred to me and keeps a-calling me more and more so it seems likely I'll be there one day. There's still progress to be made on my long standing book but it's gotten closer and I'm still enjoying how it progresses. Finding a publisher will be another big thing but why get ahead of myself eh? What I should really do is get a good agent honestly, but where to find one you know?

I'm also planing to read American Psycho right before my trip to Costa Rica so I can discuss it with the lady who recommended it too me when I visit her in Germany. And I'm currently working on a re-write of the novelization of the movie Pitch Black. Other than that I've been focused on meditations and Zen practice which I sometimes (oddly enough) do while listening to The Dark Tower by Stephen King. And believe you me that is one odd combination.
Yesterday was Sarah's birthday and that was weird, can still count on one hand the number of her birthdays I've not spent with her since we met. But I suppose an engagements will do that too anyone, there's bound to be weirdness when it's over and done with. I almost feel like I should be more broken up about it or something but I'm not really, it's unfortunate that the rough parts had to happen the way they did but this is as it should be right now you know?

enjoy the flowers,
Sol

Lilies - Lily Folklore / Lily Symbolism - Flowers
The lily's name has pre-classical origins; indeed it was the Greek name Leirion and the Roman name Lilium from which some believe the name "lily" was derived. The lily's symbolism dates back to Ancient Egypt. The Greeks believed Aphrodite added the lily's pistil to make it more phallic. It is the flower of the Archangel Gabriel and is important in heraldry because it resembles a scepter. Legend tells that the lily sprang from Eve's tears, when upon being expelled from Eden she learned she was pregnant. Other folklore tells of lilies, unplanted by any human hand spontaneously appearing on the graves of people executed for crimes they did not commit. Some believe that planting lilies in a garden will protect the garden from ghosts and evil spirits. In medieval times, lilies symbolized feminine sexuality.
In the Language of Flowers, the lily represents purity & majesty, and, in some contexts, death.

http://www.echoedvoices.org/Aug2002/Garden_Section.html
http://webhome.idirect.com/~gaga1/symbols.html
http://www.bartleby.com/65/li/lily.html
http://www.chinesepaintings.com/chinese-symbols.html

Gypsie Coat

Hello all, you've likely already recived an e-mail about this but I'm just commenting, I am really looking forward to creating this coat, with patching of cloth from everyone I know am close too being encorprated into it I will have a tangable symbol of both my travels and all of the people who are a part of my world and life that travels with me at all times, thus I really shall, in true Gypsie fashion, carry my home with me on my back. If I've somehow missed sending a message to any of the reading of this blog I beg your pardon and it was an oversight born purely of the volume of e-mail I've been sending out. Everyone here is meant and desired to be inluced which is another reason for this post. Also those tailor minded amoung you might get in contatct with me if you have the time, it's been a long while since I did anyting with needles and thread and I would like to have some compatriats to compare notes with and figure out what to do with the creation of this new artifact *grins*

all the best,
Sol

This really happend...

but make of it what you will


today I woke up entombed, I woke up entombed after a vivid dream of many things which melted into the depths of my mind while I was wondering why there was a wall sealing me into where I slept and no familiar shelf above my bed. I finally realized that I was sleeping upside down and that I'd done it on purpose the night before(after coming home from hanging out with Riley and my mother) but .... it gave me quite a shock
it reminded me how deeply I fear waking trapped, not just caged tho I always use that word, as defense I believe, people go in cages, cages have bars, and food and air
my people, we go in tombs, we are buried alive and hoped to be forgotten. We are buried alive and left to wither away from the world. And I woke up with the cold calm of a panic and terror that has given up it's 'fish out of water' failings. It didn't last long tho I did have a moment of 'patting' along the wall trying to find a way it wasn't real before I understood what was up. it didn't last long but it exposed so much to me... a black well of fear that wasn't open to honest inspection before. the bonus side was/is that I may dissipate it now, my divest myself of some of the horror. But it's so much more than that, it exposes so much more. "my people" that no verbal feeling of profound difference, and profound difference by the judgment of the ones who would be different than myself. not set above by my own hand but cast out by theirs, how am I to respond? where does this deep seeded primordial steeped memory come from? was this the reasons we took to living away from light, in caves, once cast out we took on the mantel of everything which cause that same horror and dread in those who cast us out as they had instill in us as they interred the first swath of our blood within the earthen walls.
is this what transpired? is that the source of our blood lust? this feeling of life slipping away, stolen away, makes us hunger for more, desire more, and as it was 'stolen' once makes us willing to thirst for more in a predatory manner. when death is an omni present reminder all mammals will have sex more and more passionately if you will allow the term, is this then the birth of our passion that we know what judgment was rendered and we all feel we live our moments on borrowed time. I am shaken (not stirred) to my foundations as a kraft of well water is shaken all the way down by a falling stone. Dislodged, torrential, ultimately settling once more with no harm done, but things not quite the same. what time of year this is i'm sure influences this, as does spending so much time with R “vamp” Brown and Ash Black yet still this is that does not seem to be all saying that's the 'source' tastes metallic and dead on my tongue like blood gone bad and i'd more willingly say that the way you're dreams have touched me caused this than any environmental factors i'd think of.. yet this still feels as mine, something that was even if it was unseen until this conflux of events, people, places, and that's what the crux is, it feels revealed by those outside influences, reveal is in no way created. I exhale my breath as if to reaffirm that I am what I am and alive is a part of that. what little wonder is there in the aspect of willing death over consignment when that restraint always seen is the tomb better a true pure death, a clean death and that.
an outlaw never goes quietly. i realized a little while ago that if i believed i would be able to worm my way out of there even if it took a while I wouldn't mind so much being bound... but this, this is the true gall, the clawing in my gut that makes terror turn to bloodsprayed rage and abandon.
so, wakey wakey vamp, it's time to remember who you are, there are profound truths you've been playing at not seeing for far to long, and you just aren't meant or thankfully able to keep lying to yourself about them anymore... now it's only a pity your night visions so wavery just now and those shapes still remain a bit unclear..

out of the dusts...

hey folks this is something I meant to post and never did... at least from what I've seen I never did *grins* so if I have and missed it let me know *grins* don't want to get redundent, but in any event here it is.

all the best,

Sol

have you heard Sage Francis "personal journal" for some reason i have that impulse with you right now, maybe it's a hands tied thing, perhaps i feel that if i share my own inner works with you something will shead a light on confusions otherwise un-resolved. my families scars run deep and I've no way of knowing how much you know this. you are clearly well known and truly loved by my brother and sister [sister1 and brother1] and quite well liked and enjoyed by my other brother and sister [i simply have the impression that brother2 and sister2 don't know you as well]. i know you're important for and too them so you must know something. but let me tell you (ha, "let" as if I'm somehow gaining your permission by saying that when here in text there is no mind but mine to guide these keys turned letters turned words turned sentences... gods sometimes it feels like a sentence) the story of our lives... the brief dark version, the story no one really hears.. not really. the story of our scars, and of how our parents indiscretions have hurt even the intimacy of we siblings... of my siblings who are the dearest things in this world to me... (well isn't that ironic, now *I'm* crying). It all started long before most of us were born, only sister1 brother1 and I were drawing in this lifes sweet air by then, and we weren't to know the truth still till years later when it all came apart. The short version is that my parents used to practice unorthodox relationship methods and that my mothers emotions have always been more exposed than my fathers. I'll tell you the whole story on our walk if you'd like, text takes more time than I wish too and there's almost something crude about it... almost as if I'm making it more perment by writing these things down.. the unorthodox isn't the problem, at least not of it's self and very much not for me I'm quite unorthodox myself especially when it comes to romance and relationships (hell I'd rather suffer and watch the end of a relationship have my heart served too me on a platter than to lie to a loved one... but that's another story and totally mine and not what this is about). The problem came when my mothers sense of neglect and my fathers sense of burden flared and clashed. In the midst of the oh so chaotic and torrid affair that followed (and I don't mean the sexual one that everyone so wrongly supposed was the key to it all) there were wounds left across the trust and love of this family, of my dear brothers and sisters that I don't know if we'll ever fully recover from. BOTH our parents forgot us entirely to be wrapped in their own personal drama and power struggle. I still remember watching as sister1 brother2 and sister2 all tried to talk to each other in over loud voices to drown out the screaming and the fighting that was happening below. Watched it like a knife in my intestines until I couldn't stand it any longer and in a despret despairing rage went down stairs and screamed at both my parents until they shut up and both left the house (my mother to her ... now brother1's, room downstairs actually but it makes no never mind). I remember watching my brothers and sisters get thinner from lack of food because we really didn't have appetites with all that was going on. And I remember myself for the first time in my life just fleeing from something, just moving and never wanting to stop, always PUSH PUSH PUSH so that I wouldn't have to think. It's when sister1 when away.. you didn't get to see her then and that is truly a sad thing, she was always similes and such innocent cheer.. she's never been the same since and it always breaks my heart. Sister2 has this edge about her have you notice it? when some things too soft she laughs, it can't be sensitive right away first it has to be funny or foolish. She's been so strong to get through all of this and I have no idea what it may cost her in the long run. And brother2, my dear, dear brother2, so much like me, so much like me it kills me because I know where he was, where he's been, and how hard this was on me when I was already older and (if you can be such a thing) more ready. He doesn't walk untouched through this world , he just looks it because the wounds run so deep they look like the belong there. When he attacks someone, pushes them away for being "ridiculous" or some close synonym, they show up clear as day. I've seen dispair in his eyes unmatched by anything I've seen in this world... and while I know that there's oh such hard and hurtful things that I've yet to see, and that he's stronger now, more healed, it's still there. You've never seen him angry, anger is pain that lives beneath the skin and won't go away, won't be let out, won't breach the surface... it smolders and burns until it erupts. He nearly tore a sink out of the wall by mistake once when he lost his temper, he didn't even know he was doing it. So he keeps his emotions away from the world that he might not let anything prick him too deep and thus get hurt so that he'd hurt in return.
His worst fear in this world is, just like mine, himself.
And Brother1, Brother1 was my only friend for years. My ONLY friend... even people who've become close now who were there then, and who are truly my friends.. it's different, they don't know. I was so excited to have a brother, I was nervous and a bit unsettled too because I'd been an only child but I loved him so much... and somewhere I lost him, somewhere in the years, during the time we came to Logan, I lost him. And I never got him back. He was my dearest friend and to this day I don't know fully what happened or even why. We drifted apart and I'm not sure how to talk to him anymore, not about the big stuff, not about the things that we both so often and so frantically wrestle with. You can see it in our writings, in our music. You're right about art and pain, but don't court pain enough of it will come to call on you without your throwing wide the doors. And sometimes art can be happy too. I don't know how to tell him, how to even bring it up. Gods he sleeps in the room next to mine now and feels worlds away and I miss him more than I can even try to say, and I can't bring it up. I know I hurt him somehow, I know because I can see that much, I know that's not all and I pray someday I might understand. I know he was gone when Mum and Pops destroyed something ireprable in our family and I know his feelings on it and experience with it has driving this wedge between us even deeper because of those views. I'm afraid, I wasn't afraid to walk down streets where I knew people got killed every year, not a wif of it. But my brother lays there in the other room sick and in pain and not know why or what to do and I can't help him... I don't know how to even be there for him, and I'm afraid I'll lose him without ever having the chance to understand or make it right. He might die and I might as well be trying to grab smoke with my hands for all that I can do about it. To have the core of what taught you love be broken and the fragments twisted in your guts is difficult. Not because of the pain of it, that I've long since come to grips with, but because of it's distortion casting it's self upon everything else. I know it, can taste it feel it, I'm deadened now compared to what I used to be, the same record is playing but the volume has dropped, like speakers that have been blown out, or the world the day after a concert when you forgot to take care of your ears. I remember when I felt sick and cried a little (alone after they'd all gone away) at some kids killing a bumblebee in my neighborhood. Now I carry around a smashed bullet (the one that missed) from a shooting that took place not fifteen feet from the bedroom in which I slept. Sometimes I wonder if something inside me is dead, and I hope that it's not gone beyond recall... I know that it all sounds melodramatic and I don't mean to imply that this is the whole of life, there are counter points elements of laughter and love. But there's a space where some things missing and it's nothing someone else took from or gave too me, it's tied up with other people but it's always been my own. And when there was too much pain to bear and I didn't know what to do I killed it, and I hope I'm able to undo some part of that.
My story's gotten mired in emotion, what do I expect when it's about the mire of emotion?
I hope we do get our walk, I honestly feel as if it matters weather or not this happens, tho to say why is beyond me just now. There's so much to say, so much more to be told, but the ground just now is muddy (tears will do that to dust of memory) and the story teller's spent (tears will do that too often as not).

Sol