Your fingers weave quick minarets, speaking secret alphabets

On the highway this morning, a car with two young women tailgated the fuck out of me on the off ramp. I wasn't going terribly slow, but I was being harried as is if I was. My response to this event was to rant like a lunatic, hurling out expletives too salty even for this fisherman's tavern of a blog and waving my fist with righteous menace. The driver of that car was being an asshole and came awfully close to hitting me, but I would have preferred a more zen-like response on my part.

Here's the thing, though: in the thick murk of the moment, it's extremely difficult, due to ego conditioning and  primordial instinct, to react sensibly. Alternative, healthier reactions tend not to spring up as quickly as the surge of indignation and fear for one's safety. It's as close to an involuntary reaction as you can get. One moment you're thinking about skipping through the sun-dappled  meadow with a silky pony at your side and the next you're screaming about rotten bitches like a maniac and gesticulating like Red Bull-addled chimp. It's quite the trip, being human.

Ok, so I lost it. And, in the interest of full disclosure, I lost it again later on in the day in the belly of after-work traffic, mortified that I, center of the universe, had to sit through it. Looks like all that meditating and yoga and healthy eating has really paid off, you're saying to yourself sardonically (I thought we were friends. Best friends). I said it to myself in the same manner more than once today. The above-mentioned practices have paid off, though, and here's how: Almost immediately after each episode, I called my ego out on its bullshit with no punches pulled. My truer self assessed the situation impartially. And that was it. I moved on. In the past, I think I would have stewed until I was spent. Or at least until I was distracted by something else.

I'm confident I'll have more incidents like I described above and I'm equally confident I'll handle them swiftly and move on. And maybe, the more I stay on top of these incidents, they will diminish and finally become so barely perceptible they may as well not exist.

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Fred just left for the weekend and I've got the house to myself. Not for long, I suspect. Tomorrow, I think Rae will be moving out the rest of her belongings and I'm not sure when Matt wants to move in, but it could be as early as Sunday. I'll find out when I meet up with him tomorrow.

Almost through watching season 3 of Breaking Bad. The show has it's flaws but they are eclipsed by its strengths. Can't remember where I heard this, but someone proffered the idea that television shows, the really good ones (and there have been more really good ones than ever before), have become the new literature. Makes sense. Some shows, like The Wire or Breaking Bad, have the feel of great literature. One no longer has to pick up Dickens or Cervantes to have one's spirit pierced deeply. This is good news for all you non-readers who are not reading this blog.

Time to put the heat on. I held out last night but I was rocking a chill for most of the night. Some yoga first. And then watch some Life's Too Short, which gets me feeling all jolly like.

And all other desires that distract me day and night are false and empty to the core

After several days of interviewing people, Fred and I settled on Matt, who accepted our offer yesterday to become our new housemate. A little bit about Matt: 1. He's a musician who is going to Berkeley in the fall to pursue a degree in music therapy (he wants to focus on working with children) 2. He's avidly interested in in spiritual/metaphysical pursuits 3. He seems pretty laid back. 4. He's in his twenties. We think he'll be a good fit. Although....

Don't know if I touched upon it before, but it's possible our place is going to be foreclosed upon. I won't go into how I know, but I know. Earlier at the laundromat, Fred popped in and told me he had just run into a couple of guys who were coming up the steps to the house who said they wanted to speak to Rick about the house being for sale. Great timing, with a new roommate moving in. Ah, but I jump ahead. Who knows what will happen? Even if he does sell the house or if it's foreclosed, it doesn't mean it will happen soon or that we have to leave. It'll be a wait and see kind of deal. I will, however, be keeping close tabs to see if any foreclosure proceedings come into effect.

Rae just popped in. I heard her downstairs loudly talking with her bossy friend, Jeannie. It was a quick visit; I didn't see her. Fred talked to her the other day and got out of her that she's staying with Jeannie and plans on moving to Michigan to live with her sister. He got the vibe she's been going through some stuff. I wish her well, but I'm all set with her and ready to move on. It would be an understatement to say she didn't handle moving out very well. Nobody's perfect.

Listening to Pandit Jasraj, a vocalist in the Hindustani classical tradition. I've meditated to his music a few times this week. Seemed to go well. Anyway, I love it and I don't care if you have no idea who he is. Keep your Bieber, I'll go with Jasraj.

It's kind of cold in the house. I miss March with its eighty degree days. Maybe I'll put the heat on for a bit. Maybe I won't. You'll never know either way because I won't tell you.

I'm not going to lie to you, I feel like the rug is being pulled out from under me. I've been feeling this way for a while now, but.....but I also feel like things are going to be alright. Maybe it's an inner knowing, an implicit trust in the Universe, or perhaps, as a form of self-preservation I've become so addle-minded to the reality of my situation that I'm smiling dumbly as my world crumbles. I can see either situation playing out, though I'm strongly rooting for the former. Universe, please provide for me; I'll do your chores for a month.

I guess there's nothing for it but to watch some Breaking Bad, read from the Gita, meditate, and hope for the best.

This Nation's Saving Grace

Readers, I have been away from this blog and I know my absence has left you floundering in a black lake of existential despair. It's just that I've been busy this week and have had to use my brain muscles more than I'm accustomed too. I'll explain.

Actually, I won't really explain so much as give you the briefest of synopsis because there are matters away from this blog that require my attention. See this post as me checking in, letting you know I'm among the living. More detail will have to come later.

Okay, so why have I been busy? Well, as it happens, one of my roommates, Rae, is moving out. Did I mention that we just found out a few days ago? And did I mention the only reason we found out was after pressing her via text (she hasn't been living here for about two weeks) as to whether she was moving (One begins to wonder when he sees stuff packed in boxes, a moving blanket, and items removed from shelves strewn about the house)?

So, as a result of Rae's sudden departure, a good amount of my time has been spent setting up and conducting interviews. Hasn't been a dreadful experience at all -we've met some interesting candidates so far and we're confident we'll find someone suitable - but more notice would have been preferred. Why Rae departed in the manner she did, I don't know, but it wasn't expected. Maybe she wasn't a fan of me trying to crawl into bed with her night after night. Could be that she didn't buy my sleep walking excuse.

Last week was kind of rough for me. I felt adrift, unbalanced. I still meditated and practiced yoga, but I was unsettled much of the time. My spirit felt fatigued and I had to really get creative to frame a rosy outlook. I got through it as best I could, and not alone. Janelle, who is so dear to me, was there like an angel on my shoulder just when I needed her. And talking to other friends, like Kreg, helped too. It's a good feeling to know you're not working without a net even when you feel you are.

Before I go, I should stress that whatever inner and outer struggles I went through, while causing discomfort and a dose of despair, were manageable enough to deal with. I just spoke with a woman yesterday who, not too long ago, had to cope with a divorce and the deaths of her parents and sister in the span of six months. That is some heavy stuff.

Time to go. I'll be back soon, hopefully with news of a new and exciting roommate. And maybe I'll ruminate on the mystery of the stars while I'm at it. Stay tuned, children of the night.

I'm not the sort of person she admits she knows

Woke up with a hangover that, thankfully, was only a passing ship. By most people's standards I didn't have much to drink last night, but by mine, I had enough to warrant a buzz that almost breached the atmosphere into the abyss of drunkenness. There is a fine line and I've always managed to stride it successfully. It's a talent, what can I say.

Last night was Aaron's birthday party. In attendance was a merry assemblage of people; as far as I could tell, everyone had a good time and if there was an underlying current of disdain some felt for others, it was held in check and I was none the wiser. There was an abundance of Indian food that was so good the party would have been a success if that had been the only highlight.

Some of us played a game called Salad Bowl I'd never played before but learned quickly as it was very similar to Dick Clark's Pyramid game, which I used to watch frequently in my youth. My team operated with efficiency and tact and won the game easily and honorably. I think; it was around then my brain was starting to thicken with booze. We must have won, though; how could it be otherwise with God on our side?

Janelle and I left for home in the wee hours. She was a trooper and got us back safely, despite feeling a sleepiness that softly and assertively chipped away at her defenses. I tried to keep her awake by popping in my CD of lullaby's sung by gentle children that I bring with me everywhere I go and letting her drink from my mug of warm milk. Obviously, it helped because I'm still among the living and not toe-tagged in some morgue. Janelle crashed on my couch and was gone when I woke up. Good thing, too: I was going to chew her out for not bringing me breakfast in bed. I had dreams of poached eggs and lightly-buttered toast. Alas, it was to be cold gruel and stale crust I found in the neighbor's trash.

I meditated this morning for close to an hour. I needed it. Despite still feeling the warmth of good friends from last night, there was a layer of dread underneath it all. Meditating helped. Later, I went to the grocery store for some coffee and spent the rest of the day being a layabout. I watched some Breaking Bad, which gets better with each episode, read from the Bhagavad Gita, and debated whether to undertake the task of cleaning the house like I had planned heading into the weekend. No deal. I'll do it another time and won't tackle the whole place. I have roommates, they can do their share.
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I haven't worked on music in a while. Slightly disconcerting, but I'm not worried. I think I've needed to emphasize spiritual growth/inner work lately. I picked up a guitar yesterday and it felt good. I'll play more tonight and sing hymns to the stars.

Some of them want to use you, and some of them want to be used by you

Sometimes, like the present moment, I sit before the keyboard and question whether I want to proceed. There is that facet of me, the child that protests reflexively to anything that requires more than five minutes of it's attention, that wants to flee this post. The rationale in play is that I need to decompress after a day of mental and physical activity. It doesn't hold up to scrutiny because, at the very least, writing this blog is a way in which I decompress, as evidenced by the shameful lack of quality herein .

That little child, let's call him Billy, is only trying to look out for me. Or maybe not. Probably not, considering how needy the little fucker is. He don't care 'bout no one but his own damn self! It's why I don't want to have kids: they're narcissistic, cunning, manipulative pieces of shit.

While the above is a cynical sweeping generalization - I guess -it's still kind of true, though you're too chicken to admit you agree because you'd have to accept the fact that you're a horrible person . But it's also true that children are playful and fun; not long removed from the pure loving light of the One, they still retain the comfort and bliss of where they'd just been. I spent the day with my nieces and nephews yesterday, it being Easter, and we had more fun than a room full of puppies. I watched Patrick, six years old, assembling his Prince of Persia Lego set and he was perfectly in the moment. So intent was he on the task at hand, he wouldn't have noticed if I set off a hand grenade in the toilet. Ok, he'd notice that, but he was so present, so blissed-out, watching him was a meditation.

My libido ran the show today. I wanted to make sweet, sweet love with* just about every woman I encountered (alas, nothing came of it). After work at the grocery store it was almost overwhelming. Women everywhere! I haunted the aisles, vibrating in charged hypnosis and weakly staving off a parade of urges .

Ok, I made it this far, which is a small victory, but I need to attend to other matters, one of which requires me to go to another room and sit over a bowl of water. I will post again, soon. There are tidings afoot, dear readers! And they must be shared with all and sundry or a stack of baby otters will be lit aflame. Stay tuned!

Later, after yoga and before meditation, I will read from The Trial, which I've been enjoying thoroughly, and also the Bhagavad Gita, which has been singing its verses to my soul. So you see, I've got things to do. And so do you, you servants of Baphomet. Get thee behind me, devils!

* It should always be "with" and not "to". It's why I don't say "Excuse me ladies, would you care to join me in the master bedroom? I'd like to have sex to you."

I put my feet up on the coffee table, I stay up late watching cable, I like old movies with Clark Gable, just like my dad did when he was home

Just about through with the Ram Dass book. When I pick it up I vibrate just at the edge of my perception. It's a pleasant feeling. Reading about the saints of India makes my heart coo.

A Buddhist walks up to a hot dog vendor and says "Make me one with everything".

Get it? Take five and compose yourself. Didn't mean to blast you into fits of laughter. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Been processing some fairly heavy stuff. Not sure I'm ready to articulate any of it here- need to make sense of it first - but it's made my head heavy and clogged and I do not like it. So, guess what I do? I cackle and screech like a newborn baby, laid out fresh into this hostile world, mewling in uncontrolled and embarrassing fits.

Nope. What I really do is much cooler and adult and sexy. Nope, not sexy and probably not very cool, but better than being a baby. I meditate, I practice yoga, I jerk off, I laugh, I read, I see friends, I sleep, I howl, I watch shows, I take hot soaks to the sounds pulsing out of my iPod. These things help.

I'm several episodes into Breaking Bad (I just resumed watching after taking a break from it for a couple of months) and it seems I don't share the same level of enthusiasm for it that others do. This is not to say I don't enjoy the show. It's really well done but so far it doesn't resonate that much with me. I'll stick with it; I wasn't that fond of The Wire at first, but in time I concluded that it was of supreme quality.

Kafka's The Trial arrived in the mail today. I'll dig in tonight. Last time I saw Sean he told me had just finished it and thought I'd really enjoy it. I'll find out soon.

On the highway yesterday, I came upon an SUV in the breakdown lane engulfed in flames. A brown horn of smoke undulated from it like a demonic umbilical cord. I was in the far right lane when I passed it, almost too close for comfort. I felt safe, though; I was about ten feet away from the pyre. But damn if I didn't feel its heat! For several seconds my car was like an oven.

Recently bought some egg roll wraps and have been experimenting. Tonight I made one with chicken and mushrooms that had been stir fried in honey teriyaki sauce, a slice of roasted sweet potato, goat cheese, alfalfa sprouts, and baby greens. And I ate it, too.

I noticed that both of The Human Centipede movies are streaming on Netflix. While it's true I have little interest in watching what I'm sure is extremely vulgar and ugly, I've got to admit my curiosity level is pretty high. I think I'll try to watch it with other people. We could put money on it. Last person still watching wins. I would not be that person, I think.

The weekend is here. I am glad.

Let's all be glad!

Lies and betrayals, fruit covered nails, electricity and lust, won't break the door

Man, every day it's something new. And by new, I mean challenging (which is framing it as positively as I can manage). At the rate things are going, I'll be.....well, I don't care to entertain that notion. Have to stay on top of this.

I'm being vague. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm trying not to feel overwhelmed by the myriad of changes that have been placed at my doorstep. I wish I could say the changes are in the vein of getting laid or coming into some money, but that's not the case. Big picture-wise, all of this could just be a clear the decks scenario to make room for something better. Disruption can lead to better things, something I've been repeating like a mantra, and collapsing into despair will not help me understand that. I need to be clear, resolute; I can't afford to be swept up in the current of fear and confusion.

So....

Watched a couple of episodes of Walking Dead, a show I've steered clear from because I generally find anything zombie related kind of obtuse. Maybe obtuse is not the word I'm looking for, though zombies are certainly obtuse (Let me interject something here because if I don't unravel it now, I never will. It would be unkind of me to deprive you of another offering from a great mind. So it occurs to me that people dig zombie movies so much because they get off on seeing them get shot up. Revelatory, I know, but bear with me. They're perfectly crafted, these zombies to serve as projections of pent up anger, frustration, etc. They're slow and dimwitted, grotesque and lumbering, tenacious and threatening, but not too threatening. Shooting them full of holes or battering them with a machete alleviates stress, allows us to vent. And they're so easy to kill, even a toddler on cough syrup could take down several. Look, what I'm trying to say, if I hadn't made it clear, is that people like seeing things get shot the fuck up. Why? The way I just laid it out could be the way of it. Or it could be that people are sociopaths and orgasm every time they witness an act of violence. I've said what I have to say on the matter. Please forgive the interruption, though I question whether it was worth it. Ahh, let's proceed, children). Generally speaking, I don't like campy stuff (The Rocky Horror Picture Show makes me want to puke) and things zombie related seem campy to me. But if the story is good, I'll watch anything. On paper, Mad Men does not appeal to me much, but damn if it's not one of the finest crafted and riveting shows I've seen. I heard a lot of good things about Walking Dead, so I decided to follow the story and see if it hooked me.

My first impression of the show was favorable. The zombies were horrifying - intestines, thigh bones, jaws exposed in exquisitely gross and realistic detail. Good. I want to them to terrify me.The acting seemed top notch. The story was gripping (I didn't see it listed anywhere, but the whole guy waking up from a coma in a zombie infested landscape was lifted from 28 Days Later. Unless that's a trope of zombie movies. I don't know, I'm new to these shores). I watched a couple of episodes and enjoyed them, more or less. I will watch another episode tonight and see if it keeps my interest. I think it will.

There is more, but I'm too sleepy to articulate here. See you in the movies, lovers.

Drink up baby, stay up all night

Woke up at ten on the dot, went downstairs and prepared a breakfast of Kashi's GoLean cereal and coffee. I went to the bathroom, did what comes natural and, while washing my hands, I gazed upon my morning reflection in the mirror and witnessed a dime-sized pink dot on my forehead. It was positioned exactly where the third eye/pineal gland resides. In the center of the dot was a little, cratered bump. I touched it gently, igniting a bit of itchiness. Most likely a bug bite, but the positioning was interesting. Maybe a bindi formed overnight as an indicator of third eye activity. Is the kundalini flowing? I can't say, at least not consciously. I do know this: the ego would love to convey that storyline. Cool thing to blog about. "Hey, everyone! I'm evolving in cool, esoteric ways, while you're all dumbed down in the thick of this realm watching America's Dopiest Toddlers and gorging on Big Gulps and donuts." Students of spiritual growth need to be cautious of that trap. Many, many people talk about how spiritual they are but never let it get past the domain of the ego to the level of experience. Ego is a hell of a drug.

Changes. My life in the next few months could look significantly different. Don't know for sure, but my living situation could be part of that. Ah, nothing lasts. I need to be present and open so I don't get swept up in the current without a clear path in mind. Anyway, I'll keep your inquiring minds posted as things develop.

I had a fitful night of dreams, most of which I can't recall (lucky you!). I do remember one that seemed significant. I was watering my plant and kept pouring water into the glass it calls home until it flooded over the sides. I had a brief flare of panic before the plant told me (telepathically) it wasn't being harmed and quite enjoyed the overflow. I didn't think much of the dream until later, while I was practicing yoga. The biblical line, "My Cup Runneth Over" came into my thoughts. Hmmm.... Maybe I just need to water my plant.

Watched the latest episode of Mad Men last night. I effin love that show. Exquisitely rendered. Just like you.

Awwww....