Ani Difranco - Shrug

what's with that halo hovering
above that thick skull
spare me
if i do say so - i think you're covering
'course there was nothing
could've prepared me

for the side effect of this dirty drug
the way you punish me and then you shrug


what's with that phone call, baby
it's like you're trying
just trying to crush me
do you feel stronger each time you push me, dear
did you tell your mom you carpet bombed
before you left here

and is it just the side effect of this dirty drug
or does each apology sound more like a shrug

are you at home now with your kitty cats
are you just at home now with the way that you act
do you split the rent there with all your secrets
or do you just pretend to all your friends
they're uninvited guests

yes and when you want it tidy tell me
can you still dispel me
sweep me neatly under the rug
does your conscience ever mention
the way that you treat me
or do you just fend it off with a ...

torso morph

I finally posted some new photos illustrating my progress in the arena of resistance training. It's pretty interesting.

http://gonna-fly.blogspot.com

(no more self indulgent blogs for awhile.)

Meat

This is getting a bit rediculous. I just went into the Sumesa grocery and all the girls that work there start whispering and looking at me and smiling and so I start smiling kinda sheepishly and they start smiling more and I start smiling more and everywhere I try to avert my eyes all I see are more big smiling grins, even the older women seemed to catch it. What did I do? Do they talk about me when I'm not there or something? WTF?

Thank God Roselyn wasn't there, I musta looked like... jeez I dunno, I musta looked pretty decent, but I felt like a big red ass, lol. Christ, I think I better ask Roselyn out soon because next time I go in there I'm going to get attacked by *all* the girls.

And now I walk into this here internet cafe and the girl who works here, who probably really is all of 15, is all smiles and batting eye-lashes too. I am officially a big juicy piece of meat... and I'm not really ready for all the attention... but it doesn't suck.

Oy ve.

fool for love

There's a girl.

what's more is that I'm attracted to this girl... and it's been a long, long time since I've felt that way for much longer than a passing glance on the street... (well, not counting that one most recent girl I was attracted to for about two years, not counting her) I'm probably going to ask this girl out and I'm scared as hell but the funny thing is I'm not scared she'll say no, I'm scared that she'll say yes. See, there's a reason I haven't been attracted to anyone in a long time and that's because getting involved with someone could be very dangerous for me right now... it's been dangerous up till now anyways... pretty damn dangerous.

It could be really good too.

I almost asked her out today... but no words came. I just smiled for her. if that box of baggies in my fist had been a bouquet I'd have handed them to her... but they weren't roses, they were baggies, so I went on past, just trailing her with my eyes a little, and walked out of the Sumesa grocery store. I caught her and the other girl leaning over their damned counter to catch a better glimpse of me as I left their store. I know she'll say yes. Damn it all to hell.

...and there were chopsticks in her hair...

Roselyn. Her name is Roselyn.


She looks young though... like 19 young, not like 16 young.... so she's probably like 15. Oh God, that would be bad... If she is I think her parents have the right to make me marry her and move into their house or something, lol. She works there most of the day, but the schools are out right now for the teens... maybe this is just her summer job. No way to tell. Jeez, I'd seriously feel like a dirty old 26 year-old sleaze-ball. But she looks 19 to me.... ...lucky 19...

I'm a fool for love, I freely admit it, but what should I do? Resist the urge? Join the priesthood? Detatch my penis?

I don't think so.



...besides, if I were a priest, 15 wouldn't be all that young.

Six Months

Milestones may break my bones
But not smoking will always heal me


That's right I haven't had a single cigarette in exactly six months. Take that Camel Joe! In your face Marlboro Man! Taste the defeat... Winston Logo!!!!

I still gotta long way to go yet, including confronting CBus (and everything in CBus) without cigs for the first time, but I have my improved physical condition and physique to remind me to stay on the straight and narrow.... not to mention these lovely ladies to my left will be cheering me on from the deeper recesses of my subconscious.

So, fuck yeah, go me!

body building

Not to brag, but I'm ripped like a bag of chips.

"It ain't braggin' if it's true."
-Muhammad Ali (back when he was Cassius Clay)

Dan Bern - Wasteland

I saw the best of my generation playing pinball
Maked up and caked up
Lookin like some kind of china doll
With all of Adolf Hitler's moves down cold
As they stood up in front
Of a rock and roll band
And always moving upward and ever upward
To this gentle golden promised land
With the smartest of them all
Moonlighting as a word processor
And the strongest of them all
Checking IDs outside a saloon
And the prettiest of them all
Taking off her clothes
In front of men
Whose eyes look like they were in some little hick town
Near Omaha
Watching the police chief
Run his car off the side of a bridge

I saw men with dreams
Like the ones I'd had
Beg quarters outside the Seven-Eleven
Till it got so they didn't affect me anymore
Than the mailboxes I'd passed
'Cept that sometimes
I'd put somthing in the mailbox

I'd had the wind at my back
Now I felt it cold in my face
And for an awful long time now
You were the only one who ever
Called me late at night
And I really never noticed
Till after you stopped calling
And the emptiness
And silence
Got so heavy

Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the promised land
Broken up in Disneyland
Broken up in the plastic land
Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the wasteland

I saw dead Marilyn Monroe
Strung up on every street corner in Hollywood
Like some two bit whore
Offering a discount rate
And I wondered how Joe Dimaggio felt
I saw dead James Dean's ghost
Wandering the sidewalk looking troubled
And I wondered how his mama felt
I saw signs that said "Headshots done for cheap"
Signs that said "Extras wanted, top dollars paid"
Signs for "Haircuts"
Signs for "Manicures"
And signs for "Tanning salons"
And signs for "Wardrobe specialists"
Signs for "Cosmetic surgery"
And signs for "Assertiveness training"
And I stopped to read them all

And every single block
Looked like every single block
Looked like every single block
Looked like every single block
But she kept driving
'Cause everyone else kept driving
And cause gridlock is evil
And not knowing your way is evil

And those that had money
Looked good but weren't too happy
And those who didn't have money
Didn't look so good and weren't too happy either
And in a city of three million
Two hundred and sixty nine thousand
Nine hundred eighty four
Everyone was lonely

And I watched as everyone I knew
Spent their lives
Trying to be watched on stage
Watched on film
Or listened to on a record
And they thought
"Well, maybe that way
I could get a little love out of this life"
And I watched as the best of my generation
Abandoned their dreams
And settled for making a little money
I watched TV
Read the papers
Listend to the radio
And made all the fancy scenes
And said all the right words
And wore all the right clothes
And knew the names of the hip people
But I still felt out of touch
So I stopped watching TV
And reading the papers
And listening to the radio
And making the fancy scenes
And saying the right words
And wearing the right clothes
And knowing the names of the hip people
And I felt more out of touch than ever
But I didn't care anymore

And I felt you slipping away
And I felt myself slipping from you
And I wanted more than anything else
For it to rain for one whole day
Like it used to
But all there ever was was sun
Relentless sun
Hot beating sun
And everyone wore their sunglasses
And walked around like flies
Under magnifyng glass
With their eyes removed

Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the promised land
Broken up in Disneyland
Broken up in the plastic land
Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the wasteland
Broken up in the wasteland

the little voice

Don Juan Matus says that we use our mental dialog to explain the world to ourselves; it's how we make sense of everything and put our universe into order. He also says it's neccesary for the warrior to turn off this mental dialog... and though I haven't found an articulated reason for this precept yet (which is strange because usually Carlos questions *everything*), I believe it's because we not only interpret the world by this means, we actually assemble the world when we are having those little conversations with ourselves because the world will almost always conform to our expectations and presumptions of it. When we shut off this perpetual commentary we open ourselves up to much more than what our labels and definitions inevitably restrict. It allows the unexpected; the impossible.

Plan 9 from Innerspace

Ye gads, I feel so much better today. There are two of me (at least two) and the one I like has resurfaced yet again to kick some ass and chew some bubblegum (and he's low on bubblegum). And it'll be my own ass that's gonna get a foot planted between the cheeks because tomorrow commences the new strategy. I'll get up at 7:00 for my morning mental centering, twenty minutes of zazen meditation, then it'll be a fifteen minute jog to jumpstart my heart and burn that excess fat I've accumulated the last couple weeks, followed by a protein shake and a hearty oatmeal platter (oatmeal garnished oatmeal with a side of oatmeal). Then it's on to appeasing my creative faculties, when I'll write some spendid god-awfulness for an hour. After that it'll be gym time. I got tired of switching between personal trainers that don't seem to give a damn about training anything but their girlfriends' tongues, so I got myself an on-line trainer (as oxymoronish as that may be) at gymamerica.com.

I'd left my old workout routine at the gym that closed down, so I figured I might as well start anew anyhow. This way I can really track my ongoing progress plus it has some patented space-age mathematical algorithms for calculating just how best to make me cry. And it'll adjust and rotate the exercises so I won't get bored (not that it's ever gotten boring). The best part is I don't have to watch it rub it's crotch all over the other trainees... (I have another website for that).

When I get back I'll have some eggs and toast, then I get to be spontaneous with a choice of tasks pulled from the "chore drawer" (either cleaning, laundry, groceries, or something I haven't thought up yet), then I'll make love to my guitar for a half hour. Then I'll have lunch, tuna fish on wheat bread topped with cheese, lettuce, and sprouts to fuel my daily Spanish lesson which will consist of me either reading some texts or bugging Francisco for an hour... or something (I haven't really developed a system to improve my Spanish yet). Then I'll read for an hour and eat some fruit and yogurt before going to the swimming pool for my tri-weekly dunking. Afterwards I'll have dinner, probably garlic chicken and rice again, and then I'll go to the internet cafe. I'll have a big garden salad after that and I'll have the rest of the evening to myself after I plan out Tuesday's routine.

That's what i've got so far anyways... and I'll be drinking water like a fish throughout the day too. The idea here is a balance of exercise, nutrition, creativity, education, and inner-peace. It seems the only way I can get anything done is if I make a very detailed, highly regemented daily schedule for myself... I left out all the other things like showering and changing my clothes and brushing my teeth, but they're actually on the list too next to their designated times and durations. It's only when I have multiple options and all the time in the world to complete them that I get nothing done... so as long as I have these step-by-step instructions to follow I'll acheive everything that I want to.

...of course tomorrow I have to go down to Polanco and pay off my passport's ransom, so thing's might get rearranged a little, but I still should be able to do most everything, I may just have to save the writing for Tuesday.

Saving my nose from the grindstone

Another tough week; My gym closed it's doors, throwing my whole routine off course, and then yesterday Bungal (Georgal Idiomas in Barranca del Muerto; http://www.georgal.com; **stay away from those fuckers**) and I split up for good. My depression had hit a real low; anxiety, paralizing fear, a profound dread of an impending doom... I just wasn't sure I could maintain my work habits anymore under those conditions. Bungal meanwhile was doing nothing to lift my spirits; they still hadn't delivered my visa and they were moving my classes around left and right, giving me classes that a fucking parrot could squack out of it's ass ("say chair, repeat, chair, repeat, chair..."), further pulverizing what remained of my daily routine. Working there had been getting deeper and deeper under my pale, white skin, so on Wednesday I delivered my formal resignation to be effective June 30th, which is when my 6 month contract would have terminated anyways. Apparently that wasn't good enough for them because with my resignation in their weasling hands they told me that I was fired. See, if I had quit on the 30th like I had intended I would have been free and clear with some extra cash in my pocket, but getting canned before my contract expired however meant that I would have to pay *them* for the "training" I had received in January. After deducting that amount from my paycheck I was left with a negative balance of $500 pesos to be payed the following week. The real kicker is they posess my American passport (which supposedly they'd been using to obtain my work visa) and they're holding it hostage until I pay up.

Still though, even after that I felt an enormous burden lifted and my depression almost immediatly began to dissipate. Even after I'd effectively been fired (technically they say I quit) and after they'd begun ransoming my passport, I felt lighter, more relaxed, optimistic even; that's how much I hated working for them. Actually $500 pesos doesn't seem like that much for peace of mind.

I should clarify something; I love teaching English. I love the students. It's fun and dynamic and challenging and I'm good at it. It comes naturally to me. What I hated was my employer. That and the daily commute, especially when I was called down to their shitty office for a good nagging from umpteen different bosses.

Anyhow, I'm taking the rest of the month off to reinvent my routine and recondition my mind, body, and soul so I can sustain myself through my next adventure. Starting Monday I'll start jogging in the mornings, go swimming, join a new gym, take up some tai-chi classes, meditate, read, write, play guitar, eat healthy again... really get myself centered and balanced. And after that there's good news for my next job too; I already have classes in the works via the school that awarded me my teaching certificate; Teachers International; http://www.teachers-international.com. And In August I'll be visiting Columbus for two weeks, so I have that to look forward to too.

Ding-dong the witch is dead. Burn bitch, burn.

Bright Eyes - Something Vague

Now and again it seems worse than it is,
but mostly the view is accurate.
You see your breath in the air
as you climb up the stairs
to that coffin you call your apartment.

And you sink in your chair,
brush the snow from your hair
and drink the cold away.
You're not really sure
what you're doing this for
but you need something to fill up the days.
A few more hours.

There's a dream in my brain that just won't go away.
It's been stuck there since it came a few nights ago
I'm standing on a bridge in the town where I lived
as a kid with my mom and my brothers.
And then the bridge disappears
and I'm standing on air
with nothing holding me.
And I hang like a star,
fucking glow in the dark,
for all those starving eyes to see,
like the ones we've wished on.

But now I'm confused.
Is this death really you?
Do these dreams have any meaning?
No. No, I think it's more like a ghost
that's been following us both.
Something vague that we're not seeing,
something more like a feeling

Elliot Smith - Between the Bars

drink up, baby,
stay up all night
the things you could do,
you won't but you might
the potential you'll be,
that you'll never see
the promises you'll only make

drink up with me now
and forget all about
the pressure of days
do what I say
and I'll make you okay
and drive them away
the images stuck in your head

people you've been before
that you don't want around anymore
that push and shove
and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

drink up, baby,
look at the stars
I'll kiss you again
between the bars
where I'm seeing you there
with your hands in the air,
waiting to finally be caught

drink up one more time
and I'll make you mine
keep you apart
deep in my heart
separate from the rest
where I like you the best
and keep the things you forgot

the people you've been before
that you don't want around anymore
that push and shove
and won't bend to your will
I'll keep them still

The Growth of Decay

Words that ensnare my wretchedness
In barbed-wire woven nets,
Like plows of steely hooks
Driven relentless
across this tenuous mind.
Stony fields tilled of self-loathing,
Bear dreaded crops bathed in oily tears.
Jagged seeds cultivate in sorrow,
Soon sprouting through
A cracked and broken skin.

I witness the judgement,
My conviction of their condemnation;
My harvest.
Black swollen blooms of blood-tinged blame,
My body anointed in their ashen petals.
I am the refuse no fire can purify,
A discarded rejection of love,
A barren wanderer,
A sullen testament to nothing.

The feeling passes;
A cycle of shame complete.
The season sets.
Again.

The Grateful Dead - Box of Rain

Look out of any window
any morning, any evening, any day
Maybe the sun is shining
birds are winging or
rain is falling from a heavy sky -
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
this is all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon long ago
Walk out of any doorway
feel your way, feel your way
like the day before
Maybe you'll find direction
around some corner
where it's been waiting to meet you -
What do you want me to do,
to watch for you while you're sleeping?
Well please don't be surprised
when you find me dreaming too

Look into any eyes
you find by you, you can see
clear through to another day
I know it's been seen before
through other eyes on other days
while going home --
What do you want me to do,
to do for you to see you through?
It's all a dream we dreamed
one afternoon long ago

Walk into splintered sunlight
Inch your way through dead dreams
to another land
Maybe you're tired and broken
Your tongue is twisted
with words half spoken
and thoughts unclear
What do you want me to do
to do for you to see you through
A box of rain will ease the pain
and love will see you through

Just a box of rain -
wind and water -
Believe it if you need it,
if you don't just pass it on
Sun and shower -
Wind and rain -
in and out the window
like a moth before a flame

It's just a box of rain
I don't know who put it there
Believe it if you need it
or leave it if you dare
But it's just a box of rain
or a ribbon for your hair
Such a long long time to be gone
and a short time to be there

The Grateful Dead - Ripple

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they're better left unsung.
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.