DADDY sez...

it rained last night and all through the morning. big, loud, good and heavy.

some days everything goes not according to plan. Today I re-rigged the portable washing machine which mostly went well with a little "Jerry Lewis with a fire hose" thrown in for good measure.

The thing about water is: it flows; that's what water does.

And water under pressure: shoots out in all directions. The energy makes itself known; it can't help but do that.

just what it does is all.

While walking to the hardware store to get pieces/parts, my cheap rubber 99¢ slippers break. So I go back home to put on my shoes. On my way back I purposely walked on lawns to feel the cool blades of grass on my feet. So bitchen.

So, the washing machine is all set in it's new area with "in progress" afro-engineered hookups. Obsessing over little details. Making it all good. Mental note to replace the garden hose feed with a custom "single-wire" high-pressure hose. I can see the Chinky Chinese-made garden hose busting and thrashing about like a snake as it douses the whole place with a couple gallons or more of water. That would be BAD. A Mil-Spec industrial part rated to 1500 PSI would be proper engineering over-kill.

Meanwhile on the other side of the apartment, what happens? The kitchen sink backs up. nice.

Liquid Plummer sort of worked.

Gonna pour some more in. If that don't work completely I get to pull the trap and snake the pipe in the morning. Yay for me and my Fun-With-Water.

I had this uncomfortable emotionally-torn feeling in the late afternoon. Talked to a friend about something that didn't at first seem odd; seemed perfectly harmless. But after thinking about the situation for a half hour I got all weirded out.

It had to do with the potential of hurt feelings in someone as a consequence to something I had the opportunity to do. Now, what I was gonna do was likely to be a heck of a lot of fun. But then I put myself mentally in this person's space, and I started feeling really bad.

fuck.

I've heard it said (fucking repeatedly ad nauseum guru fuckin parrot-like) by "enlightened" folks that there is no right or wrong, good or bad. Well, fuckin YES there is right-wrong/good-bad and there's 6 billion versions of it. We all have a set of personal values which may or may not coincide with another person's values.

A part of my Value System: if I do something that I know would cause distress in someone, especially someone I love, I'm gonna do my best to NOT DO that thing. Most of the time anyway.

"Thinking" is fucked up. "Feeling" is worse. They make you do things in particular ways. fuckin stupid ass shit.

fuck it. it don't mean nuthin'.

I've run 4 loads through "Washy"... 2 more rinse cycles to go 'til ALL the dirty laundry in the place is done.

I'm a good bitch.

For what? Just for the fuck of it, that's what.

Blah fuckin muthafukkin blah. next.

it don't mean nuthin.
it don't mean nuthin.
it don't mean nuthin.
fuckit

Posted by A hunk a hunk o hot brown lusciuosness at 12:31 AM | Permalink | Comments (6)

Our fuckin Junk-Food-asana Yoga seems to be ebbing.

You wouldn't know it by my fuckin behavior yesterday, or would you? Walking down the road with a small pink box of Twin Dragon Almond Cookies snacking away offering some to all passers-by. No takers so it was all on me. Mowed through half of the box by the time I got home.

And I was feeling good.

When I ate the one Eggo waffle ten minutes later I was feeling real good. So good I had to have a second. Can you blame me, the real maple syrup was uber crazy delicious?!

I felt high, like on the edge of seein' God.

One could try to float the theory that my body was craving processed flour and sugar. That too can be used to explain the Red Vines I had earlier that morning. Mm hm.

Another perfectly valid theory is the oft-mentioned "exactly where you need to be" one. I like that one. I could pick up a hitch hiker, kill him, bury him in a shallow grave - and it'd still be true. It's always true, and a damn good board to bounce one's attention off of to help tunnel deep into motive and meaning. But let's simplify.

NO, I don't NEED to be eating crap.

We (Furburger, Red) been getting into conversations about food/sex, how Fur's binge-eating might be related to her hyper-sexuality. This all somehow grew out of a cellphone TXT conversation in which an image flashed in my mind of her covered in warm gravy. Mmmmmm, graaaavy. God damn, she looked yummy.

Red said that EVERYONE's binge-eating probably had a correlation with their sexuality.

She also pointed out how our society's separation of spirituality and sexuality has screwed us all up in both areas, creating a population of the most disconnected obese, slack-jawed mindlessness ever to infest the planet. Okay, that last part was obviously my words. I'm para-phrasing; you get the point.

It was a night of chill, very relaxing.

I was thinking about how "beautiful people" are hated-on for being beautiful - their humanity ignored as if they don't have the same fears and difficulties as the rest. And how that's like on the level of hating someone for being black or retarded or gay; hating someone for what they can't possibly change.

Yeah, I'm talking about others, but mostly myself. Cuz, you know: I am beautiful.

So, Red is on a 'cleanse' right now, all the herbs and tinctures. Fur is coming by again tonight to decide on music for her 'bad jazz' piece we're doing next week. I might actually be in this one. You know, if there's an appropriate place in it for someone with spastic retard moves. For me, its just fun to participate and/or observe the process; help out where I can.

GoodGawdDammit! for our "meetings"... NO MORE SIX-PACKS!!!! I'm out of drinkin' practice. Oh wait, EATING FIRST would help; maybe something healthful and not toxic that DOESN'T make me feel sick afterwards. I am, after all, asian and well-versed in healthy asian cuisine.

Ordered a high-tech juicing machine. I wonder if that will get as much use as the automatic ice cream machine. I used the fuck out of the ice cream machine. Maybe I'll combine the two and make some fucking sorbets. How do you make something creamy without using cream?

The new "inertia" we've been seeking has taken a while, but it seems to be on the rise. "Exactly where we need to be"... still making it up as we go along.

Note to self: Start buying toilet paper in quantities larger than four-packs. I have a feeling there's gonna be a whole lot more pooping going on. That's me, always thinkin'. pooooooooop.

Oh I'm not cutting sketchy food completely out of my diet. I still make the best meatless gravy in town. I'm such a great cook, I give ME a chubby.

Mmmmmm.... Fur n' Gravy.

Posted by A hunk a hunk o hot brown lusciuosness at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (3)

So many things happening, and no interest in recording them. I've just let them all fall away. Every thing, big and small, gone to the wind. Watching it all disappear.

As I meld into the new collective.

Flowing into an opposite tack, I've looked to experience The now so fully that recording any event for posterity is so not do-able. Now fully enmeshed in The Nothing, the events of the past month (or has it been two months?) have left me mind-numb and damn-near speechless.

I look around in this room, our "Clubhouse" for Magical Unicorn People, and I don't feel the walls pressing in. It's not screaming "get out" to me... no flies or smells of rotting meat. In fact it feels more like Home than any place I've been.

Well, there's that place in Waimanalo that feels like home and the Open Road has always held a certain degree of comfort, but those were all temporary: places to go but not to live.

Maybe that's what makes this place Home: everything here is steeped in flux, an ongoing ever-changing experiment. That and all the ones I love so deeply happen to be here too. What are the odds of that?

With all the incumbent drama and mild edge of uncertainty of a DMZ, you don't know what will happen next. Anything and everything is possible. And no matter how painful and "bad" it can get, It's all good in my eyes. The Players, all magical beings - even the ones who don't think they are. In my heart, the most magical of all.

waiting to be born.

further.

I have seen far far worse. These are actually good times; really good times - the best.

I visited the remnants of my old life today; the people with long time connection. Whatever shift has occurred in me has been strong enough to make me feel like an alien from another world. I felt as if I was a puppeteer playing inside the hollow shell of a person who I didn't know anymore. People needing things from me and also playing out familiar acts with me as the audience. Puppets talking, dead man walking.

My new life is similar; just a different menu of needs. The difference being: here there is a frighteningly deep connection with other Explorers, or at least it seems like there is. I could be sorely confused. I don't think so though. There is magic here; not in one or the other but somewhere in the in-between - a spark in the gap.

processing, always processing. not sure where it's going. processing and watching the process.

time has disappeared. the obsession of time and of missing time is also missing.

I've taken to the habit of walking and skating around town randomly trying to shake something loose in my head - a Vision Quest of sorts. Strange cats come up to me out of nowhere to talk. They'll meow and purr. When I talk to them, they seem to understand my words. I'm waiting for the part where I get what they're saying to me. I'm pretty sure it's something like "Hi, how's it going?"

If anything, at least I know the cats are happy just to see me. They apparently don't need anything but a few kind words and a pat on the head.

Now that I think about it: they're no different than all the people in my life. A bit less-blocked than us humans maybe.

So yeah, I think I'll hang for a little bit in this InterZone. I can't tell yet if this is a time I will be remembering or one that will be forgotten; it's all so blurry right now. There's so much bullshit distraction just waiting to encroach on The Now. I'm hoping it never does.

I have never been so deeply engaged in the lives of others as I am right now. When I pretend to myself that I belong in this place, it can sometimes feel true for more than a passing moment. So I'll stay here for a spell, exploring and wandering - looking for more interesting people and stuff.

I suppose I'll rest my head a while and maybe save up some strength for the long journey to come.

When will I go?

When the moment comes.

Posted by A hunk a hunk o hot brown lusciuosness at 10:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)