01.31.07
meditation 31 january
don’t love you
if you see me out past midnight
if my eyes are glazed with starlight
if my lips are stained wine red
you might make me lose my head
i might smile or even kiss you
bat my eyes like i forgive you
but i don’t
no it’s not me
it’s the wine, oh don’t you see
-
oh my darling i don’t love you
and i’m not about to start
don’t adore you
won’t die for you
not afraid you’ll break my heart
-
you’ve been talking like i need you
like i’ll do anything to keep you
to myself
but it’s not true
hardly even think of you
-
and if i call you and i’m lonely
just remember that’s only
just a habit
its not me
you’re so easy don’t you see
-
and if you’re thinking you might woo me
say you’re true then might you soon see
i’ll just slip away like sand
running from your hands
so if you see me out past midnight
and i whisper that i just might
just remember that’s not me
i don’t love you, don’t you see
-
oh my darling i don’t love you
and i’m not about to start
don’t adore you
won’t die for you
not afraid you’ll break my heart
–
no need to panic
dear jacob cohen of tarzana,
you left your debit card in the bofa atm!
but don’t worry- even though i was unsuccessful at flagging you down, i brought it inside to the teller.
i hope the rest of your day didn’t suck.
01.30.07
meditation 30 january
the difference between what we do and what we are capable of doing would suffice to solve most of the world’s problems
–
sleep to dream
i dreamed that i missed the boat.
i’d been on the boat, got off it to get something from inside a dockside house, and then looked out the window to see the boat gone. when i locked the door, the knob fell off and the key broke in half.
and the owners were out of town.
i ran to the dock and yelled, ‘i missed the boat!’
and the locksmiths were no help at all.
so, i wonder… what is the boat i’ve missed? given the broken doorknob and key, i’m sure i was meant to miss it.
i know one ship i thought i had sailed for sure. but that’s old news. and another that i’m not so sure even if it’s mine for the losing…
possibly- i’m shutting people out emotionally and heading toward quarrels and breakups. if that’s accurate, i’m a dyslexic dreamer, since that’s already happened.
or that i’ve got to figure out how to open the door to the new phase of my life… maybe closing it on the last phase…
maybe it was just the scrambled eggs i ate before passing out?
argh! i wouldn’t even care except that my dreams have been historically psychic.
help?
01.29.07
meditation 29 january
When the child was a child, it walked with its arms swinging, wanted the brook to be a river, the river to be a torrent, and this puddle to be the sea.
When the child was a child, it didn’t know that it was a child, everything was soulful, and all souls were one.
When the child was a child, it had no opinion about anything, had no habits, it often sat cross-legged, took off running, had a cowlick in its hair, and made no faces when photographed.
When the child was a child, it was the time for these questions: Why am I me, and why not you? Why am I here, and why not there? When did time begin, and where does space end? Is life under the sun not just a dream? Is what I see and hear and smell not just an illusion of a world before the world? Given the facts of evil and people, does evil really exist? How can it be that I, who I am, didn’t exist before I came to be, and that, someday, I, who I am, will no longer be who I am?
When the child was a child, it choked on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding, and on steamed cauliflower, and eats all of those now, and not just because it has to.
When the child was a child, it awoke once in a strange bed, and now does so again and again. Many people, then, seemed beautiful, and now only a few do, by sheer luck.
It had visualized a clear image of Paradise, and now can at most guess, could not conceive of nothingness, and shudders today at the thought.
When the child was a child, it played with enthusiasm, and, now, has just as much excitement as then, but only when it concerns its work.
When the child was a child, it was enough for it to eat an apple, bread – and so it is even now.
When the child was a child, berries filled its hand as only berries do, and do even now. Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw, and do even now. It had, on every mountaintop, the longing for a higher mountain yet, and in every city, the longing for an even greater city, and that is still so. It reached for cherries in topmost branches of trees with an elation it still has today, has a shyness in front of strangers, and has that even now. It awaited the first snow, and waits that way even now.
When the child was a child, it threw a stick like a lance against a tree, and it quivers there still today.
–
01.28.07
meditation 28 january
01.26.07
meditation 26 & 27 january
it is necessary to help others, not only in our prayers, but in our daily lives. if we find we cannot help others, the least we can do is to not harm them.
–
kundun
01.25.07
happy birthday, daddy!!
i know you’re not thrilled about it, but…
“there is still no cure for the common birthday.”
–
glenn
“a birthday is just the first day of another 365-day journey around the sun. enjoy the trip.”
–
anonymous
happy, happy birthday!!! it’s gonna be a great year!
love you!
see you soon!
good thing i’m not on a diet :)
i finally got that breakfast sandwich i’ve been wanting since new year’s day.
in my excitement, i inhaled the sandwich, hash brown and orange juice in 4 minutes flat - a new personal best. the result? sweet mcgriddle afterglow followed swiftly by wicked heartburn.
regardless, this was the highlight of my day. it’s all downhill from here.
01.24.07
happy birthday, little brother!!
hoping you have the best year yet!! may you get all you wish for :)
love you!
your debut
i hope you enjoy this year’s cake as much as you did that one!
i am a splinter magnet
well, it’s been a few years since i’ve needed medical attention for a splinter, and my last tetanus vaccine was 8 years ago when my friend’s pet rat bit the tip of my finger off. it grew back. it was awesome.
so i got this maniacal-bathroom-floor-cleaning splinter from the side of the cabinet, and it was all wedged partly under my nail and infected, oozing…
i have zero confidence in my health insurance… i can’t get into my doctor without at least 3 weeks’ notice (by then, i wouldn’t even have a finger to worry about!), and the operator at the helpline snapped at me when i asked if my medical group had an urgent care center (vs. emergency room). silly me for thinking the helpline could, you know, help!
on the upside, i now feel confident that i could recieve healthcare on the streets of calcutta and survive. no gloves were worn by anyone involved: not the doctor that dug at my finger with a needle, and not the nurse who administered my tetanus vaccination. eww!!
the doctor was also convinved the brown chunk on my finger was skin. but i made him keep digging till the 1/4″ hunk of my bathroom cabinet slid out from halfway under my pinkie nail.
then i got the shot (which is why i’m full of vicodin now… those mofos hurt!!) and a ridiculous wrapping that makes me look like i’ve got a broken finger.
(previous splinters worthy of mention:
santa monica pier- dozens of long hunks of wood saved from my ass by my hand [thank god!!], dug out by a ballsy friend with nail clippers. the medic i visited afterward for antiseptic was impressed.
2-inch puncture wound in hip-ass region… ucla med students were awed.)
01.23.07
meditation 23 january
01.22.07
meditation 22 january
don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. the world owes you nothing. it was here first.
__
