to think that one's heart could be capable of completely relocating to a different part of the world without leaving behind something important would be a foolish mistake. in fact i have left behind most of my heart and at times i feel like it is only my body that has relocated. so says the fool who leaves his family to reach for the horizon, but in fact i know that this feeling i have right now is only temporary. its only a few hours and a flight away until i step back on the grounds that i now call home.. and i now have grown a new heart.
for now we toast.
tonight our tribe reunites for one last howl at the moon as i bid goodbye to one of the most interesting years of my life; and i do this in the company of some of the best people this world has to offer. when you say goodbye to people you take this one last deep look at them as if your brain is taking a photograph. you do this to preserve their face and make a mental note on your mind's timeline as if to say this is where we leave off, for now, but i'll be back friend and with richer voice will i speak to you again.
as of this bless-ed moment at 13:52 eastern time, in southeast michigan, i look at the fading hours of 2010 and i know that great things are coming my way. my troubled eyes have taken me to some really great places and at this point in my life i'm beginning to realize that my entire existence is one big start to a book with an uncertain ending. until then i'll raise my glass to you, my brothers and sisters from my home town, i'll make you guys proud i promise.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
sometimes i feel like i'm living that part of the book where the prisoner makes notches in the wall for every day he's been imprisoned. he draws lines on the floor to mark the shifting of the moonlight to form a makeshift calender and he has names for each of the mice who pay him visits. this is not a sad letter, all of us know about happy endings, but i know that we must pay our debts sometimes. the desert left me with an agoraphobia so thick and i haven't felt like this since i floated away from the islands a few years ago. i lied to myself in shanghai and convinced myself that somehow i was ready for life in a big city but inside there is this monkey wanting to run back to the wild. yet i maintain that each man has a debt to pay, some embalm this in their religion and look to external sources to pay their debts of salvation and some look to the company of a female but for whatever reason i've stumbled across i look to changing of tides and the curiosity of how summer becomes winter and vise-versa. winter bums me out a bit. at least it does at first. i like waking up with cold on the fronts of my eyelids and i love the way a hot shower sticks to you for the first half hour afterwords. i'm getting older, in that good way. my faces wear their lines well and i dont question things anymore; just act out of instinct without validation. this is the hibernating time. the learning time. the valley between big travels. for now i set my sails back to my hometown where the dust of my footprints still can be found in the hollowed corners of one of this land's most interesting cities.
Friday, December 10, 2010
exploration of jupiter's moons. at any given second should we forget how tiny we are, or how we were beginning to be jealous of god's sky. sometimes i wonder how far we can see to the horizon from sea level. its all.. at any small part of any moment just for me. tickled by the complexity of the human respiratory system. i still couldn't identify which of the clouds are cirrus. sometimes i think about atoms and how much like our solar system they are. sometimes i think about people and how capable they are to absolutely lose their minds. are we not all simply what we are capable of? therefore are we not all lovers and madmen?
as lonely as an astronaut, as conscious as a somnambulist. i cant believe youre in turkey.. who does that? it was good talking to you friend.
meet me beyond the surface of the sun. same time different life. watching the clouds turn into nothingness and watching the day turn into night.
you are nothing. and i love you for the every last bit of nothing that you are. when the reserve tanks of god's fossil fuels run dry i'll be waiting and listening to the bits of nature's happiness all around me. like a cricket fiddling his dusty violin, alone, singing to the moon. at any given second the curtains fall and even the ghosts dont leave footprints.
i've never questioned why we are here. i've never questioned why i love the color red either. at any random moment in our sleep we press record on the brain's camera and take in a clip from the world of sights and sounds. your friends miss you. you'll know when your dreaming because that is the only time you visit them. and at any small part of a single moment in our history we open our eyes and see clearly. had i been dreaming?
i want to wear your sweat on the tips of my eyelashes. i dont want to die in my sleep. when you kill what youre meant to kill there is no remorse. maybe i've traveled too far.. or maybe i've only just begun.
i'll meet you under the sea. next chapter. verse 29. giving thanks to every moment god, the mathematician worked me into her formula.