I really want to post some pictures
As I did a time or two
Or maybe write some poetry
If my thoughts could be words
I have tried to be happy and forget
But I have not booze enough
And then it all comes back besides
When you need it furthest away
And you lay on your back
And groan at the ceiling
Because it just ain't right
Though you wish it was
But the sun shines again
Hot and irritable on your skin
Making you think of other skin
And heats long and short past
With groping lips waking to cold
Grasping fingers on air
Remember the pitiful lines on a face
That once was dead
And I can't go but I must
So walking and quaking
In a wind-blow year
Thinking and talking as if I were here
Sitting in the dark
Wishing for sleep or comfort
Ashing now and again
Wondering just how your lungs are faring
Choices are the hardest to make
When you need so hard
When the offer is of the sweetest stuff
Of clutching searching abandoning
Could be
Must be
Vanishing in a cloud
A warm dawn
A retreating reflection
A sleepy desperation
We really do want to be told why we're sad
Maybe I could write my mind to you
Fumble with paper and pen
Strum it on a guitar
But I can't say what I would
Nor can they

Last night and this morning I had probably the most interesting and random experiences I have ever had. Wine, Pasadena, Reincarnation and a few salty tears. People are always more honest and human than I expect them to be. It has been reinforced once again that life, of necessity, does not make any sense.

But...

Haaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am beginning to suspect that my entire life---all my seeking of beauty, sunset beaches, grey rainy clouds, soft green grass, whistling and walking alone in the dark, playing long on a sad guitar, hopefulness at artistic success, the dreamy, teary idealizations of love---is nothing more than a monumental and relatively unwitting attempt to once again be a child in love with all of life.

Perhaps the single greatest natural antibody to sin is beauty and the love it evokes.

I just watched perhaps the best movie I have ever seen; and it was not because it had any great depth of thought, nor any tragedy, no shocking heroism, no epic proportions and no villains; in fact, the plot was quite simple and predictable, and the story barely even cleared the realm of the most normal and uneventful of lives. One could easily call it childish. Yet with utter mastery and wonderful subtlety, it speaks gently of the things which are truly most important. Those seemingly little things which are the hardest to master, the easiest to forget; those which when ignored can topple kingdoms and drag souls to Hell. It is a movie of details---one must see beyond this children's story, into the characters and their motivations, into the lessons learned from simply living out their minutes and hours, not for themselves alone, not for personal gain, not in depression and dissastisfaction...
Reserve judgment until you see it yourself---you may not agree. It's beauty is in it's great simplicity; for the truths unfolded are as simple as the rest of the film, but though readily acknowledged by nearly everyone, you who really lives them?

Watch it

I drew this a long time ago...back in high-school I think...

Bad things are brewing my friends; I don't mean to be so gloomy, but say some prayers for some very good friends of mine, life hasn't been too kind a few of them.

Taking into account the dishonesty of the general media, this is still deeply sad...

Shifting Demographics

If all you did was watch television commercials for minivans, you might think that the traditional All-American family was still intact -- Mom, Dad, dog, and the 2.5 kids buckle up and drive off every day on TV. But ads (depending on your perspective) are either selling aspirations or guilt: This is the family you're supposed to have, supposed to want.

In real life, in big cities and in smaller towns, families are single moms, they're stepfamilies, they're boyfriends and girlfriends not getting married at the moment, they're foster parents, they're two dads or two moms, they're a village. In real life, in 2005, families are richly diverse.

And only getting more so.

In fact, the very definition of "family" is changing dramatically. The year 2000 marked the first time that less than a quarter (23.5 percent) of American households were made up of a married man and woman and one or more of their children -- a drop from 45 percent in 1960. This number is expected to fall to 20 percent by 2010.

Why the Changes?

The change in the makeup of the American family is the result of two primary factors, says Martin O'Connell, chief of fertility and family statistics at the U.S. Census Bureau, which collects such figures every 10 years. First, more babies (about a third) are now born out of wedlock, and second, divorce rates continue to climb so that nearly half of all marriage contracts are broken.

What's Normal Now?

The overall attitude toward relationships and commitment has shifted. More than half of female high school seniors say that having a child outside of marriage is acceptable, according to a recent poll from the University of Michigan Survey Research Center. And census data shows that 26 percent of all households are made up of a single person, living alone (as opposed to 13 percent back in 1960).

While a good portion of these singles are likely senior citizens, others are younger career folks who don't feel yesteryear's societal pressure to rush into partnerships.

"In 2002, the median age for a woman's first marriage was 27," says O'Connell. That's five years older than it was even in 1980. Sometimes young singles establish their individual identities so solidly that they never marry, even if they have children. These couples may partner up -- but without the papers.

-MSN

I seem to spend so much time alone these days...Something feels wrong with the Tack House if anyone else shows up, and I fear I am soon destined to know every side-street in Ojai by starlight.

Neoteronous understands...

I guess I must really be a hippie after all. Watching this guy's movies I am struck by the masterful depictions of peaceful life, simple-minded love of others, and the universal charity his heroines always show. The art and imagination is truly mind-blowing, even though the stories are a bit incoherent at times. More than any other director, he seems to uphold a serious notion of carrying one's cross with patience and joy. Despite the weirdness, there is real 'character' in his people. Why am I moved so by this? After watching Howl's Moving Castle I felt very much myself and comforted, as if I had just made friends with someone who understood me very well. There is an endless searching in me for beauty and wonder that finally is the striving for the divine...but I am swept away by these characters and daydreams and the promise of quiet fulfillment. Perhaps this is why it is unlikely I will ever have a 'good' job or a consistent life.

Remember back in the 90s when girls used to wear baggy overalls? That was hot

Drunk, still up, still smoking, wondering why the the hell I am still awake...Smarting from a seeming luke-warm reception to something I thought a great kindness; you know, whatever we tell ourselves, something inside breaks a little when no one appreciates the things we try to do that we think are particularly kind. Bed...Must sleep now...

Music...

There is this song...

I'm feeling better now...

This is a creepy but very cool song...

My name is Leslie Anne Levine
My mother birthed me down a dry revine
My mother birthed me far too soon
Born at nine and dead at noon

Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoats
Of the girl who died with me

On the roofs above the streets
The only love I've known's a chimney sweep
Lost and lodged inside a flue
Back in 1842

Fifteen years gone now
I still wail from these catacombs
And curse my mother's name
Fifteen years gone now
Still a wastrel mesallied
Has brought this fate on me

My name is Leslie Anne Levine
I've got no one left to mourn for me
My body lies inside its grave
In a ditch not far away

Fifteen years gone now
I still wander this parapet
And shake my rattle bone
Fifteen years gone now
I still cling to the petticoats
Of the girl who died with me

-Decemberists

For the first time ever I deleted a post. I was insanely pissed about something that had happened, but I am begining to recover, and I decided to try to be moderate. I hope those of you who read it are not too concerned...all things get resolved eventually...

But being that I am still smarting, I do have a bitter little thought for today: We've all been tricked. Hollywood and others paint pretty little pictures of life where people are humble and things work out; but they base everything on a false principle: the principle that deep down everyone is a nice person. Therefore given time, they give in, apologize, etc. Sadly this just isn't so (like everything esle except real life); because people really don't change. They just don't. And I'll be damned if I get run over one more time.

No real words to speak...thinking about so many things at once that none of it makes any sense. Apathy and urgency combat for domination in a soul that wants the only thing it can't have...Such words. They hurt a lot sometimes. Turn the Decemberists up and wait...just wait. For nothing.

This may very well be someone you and I both know