2002Mar06

Who are we travelers of the night? By the same honor among thieves we traverse the shadows, reappearing luminescently in the daily lives of strangers. And yet, we are the strangers. Murderers and vampires alike show us respect. We are God-sent foreigners spreading the magic of truth across a land built on lies. Somewhat less concerned by what we have or what we get, our motive is love. To plant the seeds of happiness in the downtrodden – an incantation of humility, God would even offer grace here – not for the asking but opposed to the alternative; a wake of blood and violence. It is calmest in the eye of the storm. All mankind is my brother; all women, Goddesses. We travelers do not work directly, but rather, we create currents (sometimes torrents) of inspiration. We are the source of new ideas, the missing link to the unknown. What we do not know is where we will find home. We are adventurers together in this, our blissful lives. We are consumed by faith; and by faith we are fed. There is no turning back, just the ever present promise of home…. The escape of nightly darkness.
Lonliness settles in as the sun sets. The promise of daylight is that there’s potential for life. At night, my existence revels. (I, alone, savor what has been left behind.) My erection is a silent call for sharing. My tears are for those who miss me. Why didn’t I tell her I would wait? My shakti and I breathe the same air and we see the same eyes when we look in a mirror. A thousand miles is only an hours drive at the speed of the sun. Just three hours puts us a world apart. I know the light she sees is already artificial when the natural light of life to my eyes dwindles. I wonder about the tides and the moon. Do the waves of my ocean crash against their shores at the same time her ocean calls her? Maybe we have different destinies, different callings. I am reborn. I only wish she had come with me as I chased the light. Now, night is falling and I must say goodbye. Whatever potential there was for us I must let go…. Again. The present summons my desire to be touched. Tonight I will love any who need loving.

[next page – top margin]

The value of silence is the power of changeability and the promise of potential.

[circled to the left:]
Shiva’s conch –
Primordial silence –
Is the unity between
The creative and the destructive

[continuing]

Action/reaction
Control apparent
Epiphany – sexual release – climax
I would like to make a case against argument
Happiness is the absence of sadness
And all who choose it.… Peace is a lack of conflict
Should – could be – would be if only —-
Transcribe – transmute
Persuasivity demands a sounding board
Clocks; time; presence; mindful of the moment?
Time, money, reality – agreed upon principles

In a world without clocks every person would find an independent pace. My mind turns to magic, love, and the inability to be presently available (preparedness) when one is living in the past or future. Why not make all work and study voluntary; and by necessity independent of time, but perhaps for a self-imposed schedule.

To be true to oneself
To own oneself
To say what one thinks (means)
Lying, deceit – not freedom found in truth
Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke
Sovereignty [heady inflammation or any information that pollutes]

I still have to draw many pages… due dates impede the natural flow. One cannot say something meaningful if one has nothing to say; (right to absence)

[next page]

The health of an individual should take priority over their status. Who are we as people but a menagerie of individuals? One to one communication is more powerful than instruction to the masses. Most powerful is ones own inner dialogue. This is mine. I am my own audience. This is not futile, but rather necessary.

Writing should never be mandatory. What the hell am I doing in school? With my frustration over Goddamned words I should never have taken a writing class. I believe in living by example – showing, not telling.

I am an optimist. No matter how bad life gets, I believe the future is bright. This comes from the notion that we create our own realities. Rather than blame myself for some perceived problem, I prefer to think it must have a purpose. Now, I do have my down days but I’m quick to say “it’s ok”. Optimism is frowned upon by proponents of ‘reality’; these people are pessimists. While life offers some things that appear less desireable than others, optimism renders these things mere disappointments rather than total disasters. We have a choice over how we perceive the world. With control over our actions, we create our own reality. (We are, as individuals, masters of our own destinies.) Optimism is better than pessimism because everything we have in life, we invite. This does not mean that optimists all think life is free choice. Certainly we suffer the consequences of our actions, sometimes for years to come. I, myself, am a fatalist at heart. I do not doubt that there is destiny at play, but I’m rather excited about it. Good fortune is willed, also.