Dim chandelier awaken me to a song dissolved in the dawn

Today was long, challenging, and did not epitomize what one would call a banner day. However, it wasn't terrible and I arrived home in one piece. There is that.

I had to be at the courthouse in Cambridge by eight this morning to record at the registry. It took me a half hour to get there from my house. On a normal day, it would take ten or twelve minutes. Traffic. And lights. Many, many lights (On the topic of lights, allow me to mention my propensity for getting almost exclusively red lights in my travels. And I tend to reach them just as they turn red, so I have to wait the full duration. I haven't been able to verify this scientifically, but I think there might be something to this business. Sometimes I wonder if I have red light karma, if there is such a thing. Or it could be my rotten negative attitude that feeds me this glass half empty perspective).

At one of the lights, steam emitted from under my hood for several seconds. I had a mild freak out (not one born from surprise - not given my car's recent history - but more having to do with feeling too sick to find the energy to do deal with a potential breakdown). Fortunately, nothing more came of it and I made it to the courthouse.

I had more driving to do today, the details of which I won't bore you with. At one point in the day, while in my car, I had a little pity party, hosted by me, for me. It didn't last long and I gave myself a pass this time, seeing how under the weather I was feeling.

I was listening to people being interviewed on NPR yesterday about who they were going to vote for in the next presidential election and the thought occurred to me that politics is like wrestling (the fake, testosterone-soaked version). Put another way, it seems people tend to react to each in a similar manner.

Most fans of the WWE know it's all scripted, but that doesn't inhibit their enjoyment. Maintaining the illusion is central, however. Sure, they know The Rock isn't really furious with Hulk Hogan because he called him a chump during a press conference, but in order to maximize the impact of this feud, the wrestling fan needs to suspend his disbelief (I say "his" not to be sexist, but because it's dubious whether there are any female wrestling fans on God's green earth).

Whereas being a fan of wrestling is a harmless, though entirely un-hip, pursuit, engaging in the "sport" of politics has its consequences. I can't prove it, but I have a strong belief that politics is scripted in a similar manner as wrestling. Probably not to the same degree, but there is a welter of evidence out there to help support my claim. People in power have been manipulating the masses for centuries. It's gone on that long because it's been effective.

If candidate X makes fifty promises during a campaign and doesn't follow through on a single one, he still has a shot at being elected. If it came out that candidate Y fleeced his constituency eight ways to Sunday when he was governor, he is still electable as president provided he assuages everyone's concerns with some carefully scripted sound bites and a well placed wink. If candidate Z, who has already served a corruption-laced first term as president, decides to run for a second term, he has a chance of being re-elected. It's as if people are saying "Look, I strongly suspect you're a fraudulent snake, a manservant of Satan, but work with me here. At least pretend you're on the level, so I can rationalize voting for the spitting image of evil itself."

Is it in our nature to want to be led, even by those who do not have our best interests in mind?

The allowance of this seemingly perpetual and unflagging support of this skulduggery may be delivered by the people being led, but it is reinforced by the rigged nature of the election process. I won't get into the labyrinth of ways this is true, but I'll set you on the trail if you're doubtful of my claim. I encourage you to research voting machine fraud and then I encourage you to sit back with a cup of tea, or some other drink that helps you ruminate calmly and open-mindedly, and give some thought to the slim-pickings list of ....ahem....."canditates" you have to choose from (I'm speaking more particularly here to the Presidential election).

A narrow and piteous list it is, I tell you with complete and abiding authenticity. I channel each and every one of my words from a higher energy well beyond the astral realm, so you can be assured only the truth emits forth.

Anyway....

We've got a two party system and even within that narrow framework, certain candidates are invisible (e.g. Ron Paul). What's that you say? It's not a two party system? We have the Green Party, the Libertarians, etc. I'll add another on to that list: the Proud Patriot Party? You haven't heard of it because I just made it up. It has as much relevance as any of those parties. Like I said, we have a two party system. Only things on the menu are donkeys and elephants.

Oh my, I've gone off on a tangent. I should be in bed recovering from this foul illness. Anyway, I'm hardly an expert on anything and I encourage you to disregard anything you wish. I guess what I was trying to say is that I think politics is just as phony as wrestling. And what I really wanted to stress was that people buy into the illusion of politics almost as much as wrestling fanatics buy into the illusion wrestling. Ah, but that's presupposing people have the belief that politics is just a bunch of smoke and mirrors, but choose to disregard that belief. Some of us are wolves, some of us are deer, and some of us are sheep. I, on the other hand, am a God! (Alright, it's definitely time to think about wrapping this up. I must have a fever).

I was listening to an interview with Daniele Bolelli, whose book 50 Things You're Not Supposed To Know: Religion is about to be published, and he was asked why people gravitate to religion. He said, and I'm paraphrasing, "People will buy into anything that makes them feel safe, no matter how implausible. That's why actual freedom is hardly ever sought after. It's the idea of freedom people like. Show them the door to actual freedom, and they'll crawl back to their cages."

Sounds harsh and it is. But it also speaks to the truth. It's why the saying "Freedom isn't Free" is an important one. Fear leaves us cowering, truth sees us standing erect and alert. Oh, man, I just realized I keep starting stuff in this post that can't be wrapped up all nice in neat in tiny little paragraphs. Why I decided to go deep when all I want to do is crawl into bed and weep salty tears of woe (Who cries for me? Who?). Anyway, I just re-watched one of the funniest movies ever made last night, which is to say Borat (Take your Hangovers and your Hot Tub Time Machines and your Old Schools and shove 'em up your cooter! ) and there's a deleted scene which I'm sharing below that speaks to starting something that should be finished. Cheers!

You love your loving, not like you love your freedom

I made it through the day without my symptoms worsening. Still the scratchy throat, fatigue. If anything, I feel slightly worse as I type this, but not by bold degrees. I think back to Thanksgiving, when most everyone I came into contact with was nursing one ailment or another. But what of my pure heart? Shouldn't it protect me from illness? It should, and I suspect it is. Without it, I'd probably be in the hospital right now.

I had some energy when I came home. I changed some light bulbs, re-set mousetraps (those lil' sons of bitches didn't find the blue cheese I put out appealing, so this time they're getting peanut butter), took out the trash, swept the stairs. I've been feeling too much like the victim of circumstance lately. Every little bit of pro-action helps.

I had pleasant interactions with people today. Why that is, I don't know, but I'll take it. I'm fatigued and it's not yet eleven. Sorry going off topic, but it needed to be addressed. Plus, it wasn't a very scintillating path I was headed down anyway. We both know that.

Lauren was has been in my thoughts here and there. Not intrusively, not obsessively, but there all the same. I'm not pining for her - we don't have the shared history to warrant that -but she's nice to think upon. I wonder where we're headed.

I just meditated for an hour. It wasn't the best session, I suppose, but I couldn't wait to do it. So much in my life feels uncertain, fragile; meditating helps with insight and keeps me balanced.

Sleep. Yes, sleep will be soon. I had trouble falling asleep last night. Had to do with feeling a little under the weather, I'm sure, and most definitely the product of having fallen asleep through some of a lecture by Wayne Dyer I had been watching. Threw my schedule all out of whack. We'll see what tonight brings.

Trapped amid fusions of wonder

A scratchy throat and a mild feeling of fatigue greeted me upon waking this morning. I ate breakfast, visited the grocery store, came home and practiced yoga. I hoped the activity would revive me to my previously hale state. Sadly, it didn't make much of a difference. We will see how things shape up. I'd prefer not to be sick at the dawning of a new work week, or at all, but last time I checked, I was still a human organism that finds itself ill on occasion.

The past week flew by. Thanksgiving was a blur. Along with Spira and Missy the dog, I went to my parent's house for turkey and other holiday fare. Spira and I helped my sister figure out how to align her iPod with iTunes and then we set my nieces, Kiley and Shannon, with Facebook accounts. Missy was a hit with the kids - they gave her attention while Spira and I were preoccupied with the computer.

From there, we went to my grandmother's house for dessert. It wasn't a full house. A couple of my cousin's were absent, my mother stayed behind because of a sinus infection, my brother in law was home with a stomach virus, and Al Roker was nowhere to be seen, despite the hundreds of invitations I had sent him. Oh, well, it was still a good time. I spent a good amount of time finding out how my cousin Brian's FBI training was going. A lot of effort, but well worth it, he told me. My father probed him about whether there was a division that handled cases like The X Files. Brian wouldn't say.
-

Yesterday, I went on that date I alluded to in my last post. About a month ago, Spira had mentioned she thought I'd be compatible with her friend Lauren. She showed me some pictures of her on Facebook (I thought she was attractive) and told me a little about her. "Alright, then, work your magic", I said.

Nothing came of it until I received a call from Spira last weekend, confessing she accidentally set me up on a date with Lauren. The two had been talking that day about a guy Lauren was about to go on a date with who didn't seem that enthused. Spira told her about me and how she thought we'd be compatible. She showed her some pictures of me and went into depth, I'm sure, about my pure heart. Spira told her there was a good chance we'd meet at one of the next art exhibits at the studio the two of them rent rooms from. Instead, Lauren asked Spira to give me her number. Way to expedite, Lauren.

I called her on Tuesday and left a voice mail. She left me a voice mail the following morning. And then another voicemail by me later on that day. After that, we communicated through texts. I spoke to her the first time when I met up with her at Block 11 for coffee.

It was such a nice day, we sat outside. My first thought about her was that she was more attractive in person. And, the more time I spent with her, the more I picked up on a kindness about her I found appealing. We talked about music (Sonic Youth used to be a favorite band of hers), yoga (she's a fairly devout practitioner), the nonsensical nature of Black Friday shopping, her upbringing in Europe and the states, her job (she's an art therapist), Miranda July (we're both fans), among other things.

We wrapped things up around five thirty. I walked her to her car and asked her if she'd like to go out with me again. She said she would. I asked if I could give her a hug and she said "Of course". So I did, and then, with her help, puzzled out where my car was parked (only about fifty feet ahead, as it turned out). As I walked to it, I raised my fists in the air and yelled, "I'M IN LOVE, I'M IN LOVE, I'M IN LOVE!!!!", and then I started sobbing. Ok, that didn't happen.

Not being a serial dater, I think I presented myself pretty well. I suppose I wasn't completely at ease, but who ever is on a first date? I texted Lauren today, letting her know it was a pleasure meeting her. She replied back the same sentiment. There are aspects of my life that are in disarray and in some ways I question whether I should be dating anyone at all. Things will pan out or they won't, but I'm not going to shy away. I may not be in a desirable place financially, but that is not what defines me. At the end of the day, I'm just grateful I had the opportunity to spend some time with Lauren. And, hopefully, I'll be able to spend some more with her. I'm not looking too far ahead (of course, I have been obsessively envisioning our wedding day, but whatever, everyone does that).

Cheers!

Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better

About an hour ago, I was standing over the toilet peeing when I felt something on my foot. My first thought was to wonder if it was a mouse. I didn't really believe it, though. When I looked down, I saw that it was indeed a mouse. I let out a yelp of surprise and tried not to get pee everywhere. The mouse fled under the tub. What a jerk!

I exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner. I called my sister and while talking with her I saw at least two mice waltzing around the kitchen with impunity. I was still a little on edge from the bathroom incident, so every time I saw one, I got a little jumpy. I'm not afraid of mice, but I'm not a fan of them climbing all over me. I declare war. It won't go well for these tiny terrorists.

Taking advantage of the weather, I made my way to the park by house and read from my book by Paramansa Yogananda. It was a great day to be out. Winter is encroaching and there will be fewer and fewer days like it. I would like to abolish winter; it's just a lousy season.

Stepped up my yoga routine today and I'm feeling the results. A bit sore here and there, but I'm glad I'm challenging myself in at least one area of my life. I'll be looking into what it takes to be certified as a yoga instructor.

Tonight I will watch The Tree of Life, a film I've been eager to see for a while. I've been looking forward to it all weekend. I've also been watching a wonderful series from the History Channel about the Revolution. People who are on the fence about or in opposition to the Occupy movement would do well to revisit that time in our country's history.

Listening to the new Feist album. Meh. I always find her stuff rather lukewarm. I want to like her more, but it hasn't happened yet. Maybe it never will. Whatever. I just switched over to Beggar's Banquet. A wise choice.

Thanksgiving is around the bend and I'm looking forward to it. Spira and Missy the dog will be joining me at my parent's house. We intend to set my nieces up with Facebook pages per their request. I will school them on how to vaguebook, humblebrag, and post updates that no one needs to hear about. They will be well equipped.

I will be going on a date in the coming days. I will keep you posted about how it goes. In the meantime, I will endeavor to decipher the secrets of the universe; failing that, I will eat some rice cakes and watch clips of Beetlejuice on Youtube. Make it happen, Cap'n!

Just like the sand out in the sea, what good is sugar if you have no tea, what good are you if you don't have me?

Been tough going lately. Let me rephrase that. It's been challenging lately. I say lately, but it's been years and years. That's life, though, and it's a school in which we learn. We're supposed to fuck up, otherwise we'd all be enlightened and wouldn't be here. Anyway, I've been working through ingrained, outdated, and not advantageous patterns, and, well, it's been a bumpy ride. But not, I should note, one that is heading down a steep, icy hill towards the yawning abyss of the ocean's maw.

I'm heading upwards, baby! Doesn't feel like it right now, but why would it? I'm in transition, discarding the muck and letting in the light. Not. Fucking. Easy. With all the meditating and yoga I've been doing, I still find myself deferring to my ego, that raging, needy beast. It is fighting me tooth and nail because it feels threatened. It will not relinquish its hold in a gentlemanly manner. Maybe if I ask it nicely....

A by-product of the inner work has been occasions of prolonged restlessness. I'll pick up a book and get through a page or two when I get bored and move on to something else, like a movie. And I'll be lucky if I get through twenty minutes of that. And then on to the next thing. I don't know why exactly it's been like that sometimes. It's felt like I've been off course and everything I've attempted to do hasn't been what I should be doing. Oh, I don't know.

Last night I found myself annoyed with someone. Doesn't matter what about, but my body became tense. The thought came to me that unless I let go of this and every other ego-generated hang up, it'll never end. The words "let go" came into my mind. I relaxed and felt a clarity I hadn't felt since I don't know when. I laughed at how simple it was. Didn't last, but it was a glimpse into how things can be when you let go of attachments. So simple, which is why it's so difficult, if ya dig.

Looking for jobs hasn't left me encouraged, but it beats not looking. Baby steps. I've been exploring the possibility of working at home part time. That would be nice not having to leave my house and deal with all you fucking assholes. Really, though, I've got to start thinking hard about pursuing actual professions. I'm not a dummy and I need to get paid, son!

What do you think about this blog being a pay site? Great idea, right? A measly ten dollars per post won't bankrupt you. And, as an added bonus, I'll actually start putting some effort into it. Okay, I'm glad you're on board with this. Now I can put food on the table!

Speaking of yoga (I did earlier, way up above in that paragraph you skimmed like it was hot), I've been practicing ying yoga, which looks like the easiest thing in the world, but is most certainly not. Basically, the idea behind it is to hold poses for several minutes in order to flex the connective tissue, which accounts for more of our flexibility than our muscles. I love the challenge of enduring several minutes of physical and mental discomfort (the mind does wander). I tell you, there is no better high than post-yoga high.

Been working on music again. This time I won't be so eager to share any of it with friends unless they ask me or if it's part of a project. Boy, did I learn my lesson last time. Not worth the effort. Ah, but I make music and love doing it. Maybe if I start playing out more, I'll find an audience. I know they're out there.

Watched What Dreams May Come last night. Hadn't seen it in years and it was definitely worth seeing it again. I wonder if I wept openly several times throughout it the first time around, because I most certainly did last night. Good thing no one was around.

Rae has had a guy stay over the last couple of nights. Part of me wonders if this will be a constant thing (I worry more about bathroom/kitchen time than anything else). Another part of me is jealous because she's getting laid and I'm not. The straight truth, folks. Once you recognize it, you can do something about it. Word.

This Penn State scandal is beginning to echo The Franklin Scandal. What is it about people in power and child abuse? Seriously, they go hand in hand. Fucking Satanic.

On that note, I'm going to go immerse myself in the everlasting light of the universe. As you were, comrades.

We're afraid to be alone, everybody got to have a home

My libido was charged today, but I kept it under control. My coworker, Sharon, has an outfit she wears every once in a while that accentuates her divine figure in such a way that my monkey brain turns on and I become driven almost exclusively by primal urges. I arrived at work this morning with the goal of staying present and keeping my third eye in communion with God. I was fairly successful whenever Sharon wasn't around. And near the end of the day, she took over my thoughts. Sorry, God.

The odds of us ever hooking up are slim (Me and Sharon, not me and God. Although, we are all God, so I guess they're one in the same. I digress). She's married and has a couple of grown children. So, right out of the gate it would be adultery, even though my role would be more as an accessory than adulterer, but still. It's serious business, cheating, and can adversely affect people's lives. It would be a sublime pleasure to have sex with Sharon, I'm sure, but I wouldn't want anyone to be hurt as a result. It would work if:

1. She's in an open marriage and is not only allowed, but encouraged to have affairs with pure hearted, erotically-inclined men.

2. Her husband is a real asshole who cheats on her constantly. A revenge affair on her part would be something I'd be more than willing to take part in. "Really, he beds college girls on a weekly basis even though for years and years you've begged him not to? And what's that? As a result of his infidelity, he has nothing left in the tank for you? What a jerk! Man, if only there was a way to get back at him that would not only make you feel better, but me too. "

3. Her husband died or left her.

In other words, this attraction (and I think it may be mutual) may remain unrequited. If only there was a way for me to relieve myself of all this pent up sexual energy. I'll have to give it some serious thought later on in bed.
--
What a sweet and tender song Big Star's Thirteen is. It melts me every time. I would elaborate, but I'm reserving discussion of music for a new blog I've been working on. It's called Giving Aural. Stay tuned.

My commute home was a rainy, messy affair. By the time I walked in the door, my head was throbbing. I debated whether practicing yoga would help or hinder my condition. I opted to give it a shot. Ninety minutes later, I felt as placid as an April pond. Thank you, yoga!

Stopped by Spira's after work yesterday to walk Missy, my beloved Greyhound. When Spira came home, we ate dinner and watched Hamilton's Pharmacopoeia on her laptop. We used Missy as a pillow. Don't worry, she liked it.

I'm off. I will meditate, I will watch an episode of Louis, I will pick up my guitar and play, I will read from a book, I will gaze lovingly upon my visage in the mirror of my choice. Until next time, namaste, readers.

What can a poor boy do except sing for a rock n' roll band

Had a series of dreams last night that involved running into people I knew who were happy, almost overjoyed to see me. In one, I was going up an escalator and saw LW waiting for me at the top with a big smile on his face. My inclination was to walk past him, but he grabbed me by the arm and led me to a Bertucci's in the mall we were in, where there were two plates of pasta waiting for us. He was very happy to see me and whatever ill feelings I felt toward him eased away. I had several questions for him, but he kept talking. I woke up, leaving my former friend in the ether.

In another dream, I showed up at a party and people approached me with such warmth I was suspicious of their intentions. There were a couple of more dreams like that and one that wasn't so good. I think my father was disappointed in me or something. Whatevs. Nice having such pleasant dreams.

Rae is taking care of two dogs this weekend. Kuma is a hulking yellow lab - he must weigh at least eighty pounds - and Chloe, a miniature dachshund, is much smaller in stature. I love them both. Fred's girlfriend, Danielle, is here for the weekend, so it's a full house. This morning, the four of us played with the dogs and laughed at their antics. Fred played the organ and Mike howled along. Good times.

I've been following Humble Brag on Twitter. Whoever runs the page compiles tweets from celebrities and regular people that are brags cloaked in humbleness, hence the name of the page. Some of the tweets are borderline, others are flat out obnoxious. Below are some examples.

"I seriously have no business being a nerd with this body type. Biceps should not noticeably increase in size this quickly" - Dantheshive

"I hate when people tell me, 'You're too pretty for tattoos' …shut up …it's art" - Ashlee Holmes

"Because I have a pretty face does not mean I'm destined to be an ornament my whole life. I want more than that." - Chloe Stagner

"All the muscle I've put on working out over the last year will just be more food for the bear to eat when I'm camping tonight." Rivers Cuomo ( This guy has always seemed like an arrogant piece of shit to me. This tweet (and there are others I've read that are just as obnoxious) will be Exhibit A if he ever goes on trial for his arrogance.

Facebook has its humblebraggers, but thankfully for me, most of my friends don't engage in it much. I do, however, have a one or two that do it fairly regularly. Not as egregious as the examples listed above, though.

Anyway, I've got to finish up this post so I can do other things. Maybe going to a party later, but it kind of sucks when I go to parties; everyone wants my attention and after a while it gets tiring. Oh, well, we all have our burdens.

It's the 5th of November. A good reminder that tyranny must never prosper. Occupy the world!

You're as cold as ice, willing to sacrifice our love

I was having a smooth day yesterday until Jeff informed me I'd be going to Fitchburg today to do some recording. The way my car has been, i.e. old, I tried not to get apprehensive about the long drive. I was largely successful. I made the trip just fine - I'm back now, babysitting Missy the dog at Spira's - but my whiny, fearful, ego made a few appearances. I caught myself every time when I acted unconsciously and I didn't get upset with myself for losing control. Indeed, I applauded myself for catching the behavior. It's going to happen again, I'm sure, but the more I'm conscious of my thoughts and actions, the better off I'll be.

The ego has its uses. I'm appreciative when it alerts me to actual danger or when it reminds me I need to get some groceries else I'll be having a glass of water for supper that night. The ego has run amok, however. Our entire civilization is driven by it. The story of The Garden of Eden describes its hostile take over, our fall from grace. The ego served us well when we were apes drifting through the plains and valleys as both predator and prey. It has grown like a tumor and now almost every single one of us lives either in the past or present, two positionalities that do not exist. Full attention to the present seems easy to achieve, but most of us cannot give it even for a minute.

Just watched a great documentary about a guy who went way off the grid and moved to the outer reaches of northern Alaska called Heimo's Arctic Adventure, or something like that. It was fascinating. He and his wife raised two daughters in the middle of nowhere. A different way of life, to be sure. He even shot a bear during filming that kept creeping around their cabin. Big fucker, t'was!

Just watched a news report about the events that transpired at last night's Occupy Oakland's protest. A guy in a car hits two people and puts them in the hospital. As the paramedics are putting them on stretchers, cops are questioning the guy who hit them. Despite the fact that there were numerous witnesses and the incident was caught on film, the cops let the guy go. Didn't even ask the guy to get out of his car. Hmmm.....

I smell a rat. The cops have been having no trouble arresting protesters for even the slightest transgressions, but when a guy in a car attempts to murder a couple of protesters, he's let go. Either the guy was an agent provocateur and the cops let him go because the guy did exactly what his masters instructed him to do, which was probably along the lines of fucking shit up, or they let him go as a big fuck you to the protesters. I don't care what the victims did to incite the driver, there was no cause for attempted murder. Try telling that to Oakland's finest.

More change is on the way, more disruption. Scary, but thrilling and hopeful. What days we live in. Shit is going to get fucked up pretty bad, I predict, and sooner than later. We've been asleep too long and our owners won't give up power easily.

Who knows, maybe they will if we ask them nicely. I'll look into that.

People still don't have power after last week's snow storm. WTF? I feel for everyone without electricity. What a disruption. I know it was a widespread and intense storm, but why has it taken so long to restore power? Seems commonplace these days for people to have no power for days and days after a storm. We had plenty of big storms when I was growing up, but I don't remember this type of thing happening. Ah, but it's a different world, now, one that brutalizes us with super storms all year round. A Nor'Easter in October? You bet. Climate change is a bitch.

Okay, it's time for some cuddle time with Missy and then a walk a bit later. She is so pretty; I think I'm in love.

He reels around the night club like the hubcaps off of a car

I feel a bit like writing, but I also feel like doing other stuff. As a compromise, I'm going to blaze through this post within ten minutes. Let's get started then.

Okay, first on my mind is the wonderful experience of reading from a book of lectures given by Paramahansa Yogananda. Over and over he stresses the importance of meditation. I'm in full agreement, though I find it a bit daunting his recommendation that we meditate for six hours straight one day a week. There are people who practice an instrument for longer stretches, he reasoned. Yeah, but they weren't embarking on a trip that could potentially shatter their worldview into a thousand shards of light in one timeless, eternal instant. I guess that's the point, daunting and scary as it is, and it's why I might give it a shot. I recall hearing that the Buddha once said that all it took was to hear his message only once and you would spend however lifetimes it took to see it realized.

It's been over ten minutes, so I'm out of here. I guess you could say I worked over time. I think I should treat myself to a pot roast.

Namaste, bitches.