If you don't take her out tonight, she's going to change her mind

Shortly, I'll be headed into Boston to see Tune-Yards with Janelle. Evangeline says she'll be there with a big crew of people from work; hope we see everyone. I'll be very surprised - chagrined, even - if this show is a bust. Ah, stranger things have happened.

I didn't eat terribly well yesterday and I felt it upon waking this morning; something akin to a hangover. I had not gone overboard, but I did indulge in some ice cream, a couple of cookies, and some Sun Chips. It's alright, it's okay to indulge once in a while, but seeing how it made me feel, I'm not exactly geared up to do it again any time soon. Maybe there's a lesson to be learned there.

A lesson I have learned is to not attempt to help people who won't help themselves. Almost always, it's a fruitless endeavor. Besides, I've got enough crap going on in my own life. Boy, do I ever!

Anyway, it gets late.

Buh'bye!

Miracle words come to a mouth you may hear

Got a fair amount of sleep last night, but I feel groggy and see a nap in my future if I don't snap out of it. A cold shower and yoga should chip away at the lethargy; then again, I might be alright with a lazy day lounging around reading and stuff.

I spent the day at my mother's house yesterday. Her birthday was earlier in the week, so I showed up with a cake and some lobster rolls (her idea of the perfect gift). My sister and her family, save Shannon and my brother in law, arrived on my heels and we got some pizzas, ate cake, etc.

I mowed the lawn and figured out how to use my dad's power washer, which was gratifying, and went to town on the deck, clearing all the pollen and grime that had accumulated. Coming up is the more ambitious project of power washing the house. That one might take a while.

A swarm of Somerville cops showed up at the house while I was making dinner on Friday. Watching them through the window, my heart started racing. "Are they here for me?", I thought. Why would they be? I don't know, but the mind can sure conjure scenarios, however unlikely. Turns out, they were there to see my landlord Rick about something. They left quietly after about fifteen minutes. I wonder what that was about.

It's Father's Day. It doesn't make me miss my dad any more, but it's definitely a reminder that he's no longer with us. Or maybe he is. Whenever I'm at my mom's trying to find some of his tools or figure out how to use some of them, like the power washer, I silently ask him for some assistance. And usually, when I do that, things tend to work out. Who knows if there's anything to that, but one thing I do know is that there is so much to life we don't understand.

Cheers, lovers.

On we sweep with threshing oar, Our only goal will be the western shore

I've been listening to a lot of Gesualdo's madrigals, particularly Book Six. I figured it would be nice to own, considering I listen to it a lot. I checked iTunes to see if there was an affordable version. The most affordable was ten bucks, everything else was above twenty.

In a moment of satori, I got the bright idea to check Amazon, which I did, and guess what? I found an album that contained Book Five and Book Six for $5.99! It was the equivalent of three discs - 44 tracks, yo! Snapped that shit up, did I. And now here I am relaxing into a post yoga evening with some profound music filling the room.

In my last post I said I'd be back the following day with another one but I didn't and I feel real lousy about that but not really. Things happen, take precedence.

Anyway

I've had the house to myself since last Friday. This has never happened for as long as I've lived here. Fred is in Iceland for a couple of weeks and Evangeline is at the beach in Rhode Island for the week. It's been a swell time!

Joined the Big Three fanclub on FB last night. It was a good move. I'm not really a fan club kind of guy but I don't know many people who are even aware of these guys. I didn't expect to find myself such an ardent fan, but it happened. So interacting with other fans and even a couple of The Big Three Themselves has felt like coming home.

Or something like that.

Finally got around to reading Dune after years of being on the fence. I'm about fifty or so pages into it and so far so good.

Also reading Don Quixote, which has been a treat. Man, I love Kindle. I got the book for free, just as I have with many others. And the books I do pay for are often cheap. They also appear instantly; I don't have to get up and go anywhere to buy one. I also love having so many books housed in such a device.

Ok, time to go eat a banana and some organic blueberris.

My sister and her boyfriend slept in the park, had to leave home because he was dark, now they parade around in New York with a baby boy

I woke up too early yesterday and went to bed too late last night. Add to the equation a sweaty vinyasa session after work today and what you've got is a guy who should, but probably won't, go to bed early.

I'll make an effort to return here tomorrow and riff about all sorts of stuff. I've been busy and things aren't slowing down. There are shows coming up (Tune-Yards, Rufus Wainwright), Janelle's wedding, Jury duty, house sitting, birthdays, World Cup soccer, and much, but probably not that much, more.

Watched The Act of Killing last night. I'd heard about the documentary before, but it seemed like it would be graphic and perhaps tough to watch based on its name. Probably not going to be a cute romp through the meadows with bunnies and other cute animals, I thought. Well, I'm glad I watched it. It's very, very good and not graphic. It is disturbing, but...anyway, just watch the trailer - it's getting late and I need to at least make an attempt to get to bed early.

I've got my spine, I've got my orange crush

Another day that was excruciating overall with some okay moments here and there. I'm really beginning to veer towards the belief that this world I live in is a cold, uncaring place. I'm also finding evidence to support the notion that there are forces at work behind the veil fucking with me. I also hate that I'm probably under the spell of the egoic mind and all of the above is not true yet feel helpless to snap out of it.

The above is nutty, I  know. And, disappointingly, it's indicates an abandoning of whatever positivity I've infused in this blog. I've done my best to champion the positive over the negative here and, in that, I think I've been successful, but I'd be lying if I said everything is coming up roses. This is a really difficult time for me and I'm trying to get through it. It has all the markings of a losing battle.

Ah, but maybe it has to go this way for me before things can get better. Right now, I don't believe it one bit; with hindsight, who knows.

One good thing from all of this* is I've been practicing a lot of yoga as a ways to cope. Every time a wave of stress crashes into me, I go right to yoga. The bathroom stall at work has seen many cramped but useful sessions. At one point today, when I really felt like I was being fucked with by a dark hand and wanted to crawl out of my skin, I was literally climbing the walls. Well at least the wall of the stall. When I found myself straddling the top, I snapped back to the present when I realized how fucked up that would look to someone, like my boss, coming into the bathroom. That one would have been impossible to explain.

So despite this feeling of being at the tail end of a losing battle, I still have some fight and it's not as if I'm constantly in a state of despair. Thank God for The Big Three podcast; they make me laugh heartily every day to and from work. Thoughts do appear that every single thing about life is awful, but they are not true. It's not all bad, to be sure, but things need to get better, and I emphasize the word need.

C'mon, Universe, come through for me! I'm not such a bad fellow.

* All of this, everything I've been cryptic about, refers primarily to the stress of living in poverty.

I got some bad shit, then I walked the beach in Venice

Life has been hard; sometimes it feels like it's been that way always, but I know it hasn't. Too often I feel like I'm on the razor's edge of total annihilation. It's a fearful way to live. But how to get out of it? It's great knowing there are problems that need to be addressed, but when you believe you don't have the will to go through with it, that you face a sheer, mile high, cliff and have to climb it free hand at night in the stinging rain, well, the task seems daunting.

Impossible.

Not impossible: challenging. 

Look, I'm spent and don't have the energy or desire to stoke the flames of what I'm going through. But there is this:

After work today I began my yoga session with fifty repetitions of a vinyasa sequence. Until recently, I'd only been doing twenty. The increased amount has been more of a mental challenge than a physical one; keeping focused can be difficult.

Anyway

Reaching fifty reps today was a motherfucker and I got though it. Self loathing, fearful thoughts tore at my attention; Around thirty, they were brutal and had almost complete command over me. By the time I reached forty, there were tears. The pauses between repetitions became longer so I could collect myself. Images of my father came to mind with the accompanying surge of chest-tightening, breath sucking anguish.

You are going to lose everyone you care about; you will die alone and afraid; you are an abject failure; you are not fit to live in this world. These assaults, and more, battered at my psyche, but I kept going. Defiance. I said fuck you a lot.

Defiance. It was there, so there is that.

Peace

I had a dream the other night when everything was still, I thought I saw Susanna a-coming down the hill, The buckwheat cake was in her mouth, The tear was in her eye

I think aside from a forthcoming yoga session, today will be a lazy day. It is the sabbath, after all and, considering I've been an active fellow, I probably need a recharging. Was hoping for a rainy day so that I wouldn't have to hear all the loud machinery neighbor Steve likes to operate in nice weather. As I write this, he's got something revving outside my window, a power washer, I think. Last weekend he outdid himself by running a hedge trimmer, then a lawn mower, and a skill saw. That nap I had planned on taking did not happen. Steve spends more time hanging out in his driveway than most people spend in their living rooms. Look, he's just being himself, but sometimes I just want slap that ape until he's an unconscious mound.

Anyway

I'm listening to Gesualdo's sixth book of madrigals and am trying to ignore the cacophony outside. Last night, the neighbors above Steve had a bunch of people over and they congregated in the kitchen which is directly across from my bedroom. They weren't terribly loud, but because of the close proximity, it was like they were in the room next to me. They were at it until about four in the morning. And, probably because they were drinking, they got louder as the night progressed. I got through it, but man, sometimes it's nice to have some quiet.

I found some yesterday. Early in the day, I decided to venture out to the park near my house and do some reading and writing. When I got to the park, there about twenty people dressed in vintage 19th century clothing  picnicking. I briefly wondered if I had slipped back in time. Ah, the city has its wonders!

I didn't last long at the park. I had a chill and decided it would be worthwhile to go home and put on a sweatshirt. That accomplished, I decided to walk the bike path into Arlington and hang out at Spy Pond for a while.

When I reached the backside of Alewife station, I noticed another path had opened up. Feeling adventurous, I took it. At its entrance, a sign read "Alewife Brook Reservation".  Turns out, the city received four and half million from the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act of 2009 to pimp the place out. It showed.

Interlocking bridges and walkways run through the marshes and ponds, which are stocked with wild life. I saw a ton of fish, a rabbit, and possibly a beaver. I walked through most of it, which wasn't that large a portion, and relished the sights and sounds. And smells! Oh, Spring, thou art fragrant! Brought back memories of youth and all sorts of other feelings, many of which run deep.

The whole experience was a meditation. Wonderful! From there, I got back on the bike path and stopped to watch a soccer game. I didn't intend to stay too long, but these kids, who looked to be twelve or thirteen,  were evenly matched and played hard. Lots of close calls, but no goals. I watched for about an hour. You can find a good game anywhere. Brought back fond memories of my own involvement with the sport.

Heading back to Somerville, I heard the faint sounds of Klezmer music in the direction I was heading. I smiled widely. When I reached Davis Square, the band was in full swing in the courtyard in front of JP Licks. They brought the ruckus; I managed to record some of it. Sometimes you can't beat living in the city. At one moment I'm spending time in a tranquil reservation and walking along serene bike paths and the next I'm amongst revelers digging some lively music. 

By the time I got home, my feet and heels were burning with blisters. I headed over to Spira's place after a much needed shower. We watched Errol Morris's documentary, Tabloid. Spira fell asleep through some of it, but I think she enjoyed what she saw. And, of course, Missy D was lavished with attention.

--
 It's frustrating feeling that whatever momentum I obtain in life fizzles out too soon. I'm speaking of positive momentum here - the unsavory stuff does not fizzle out but is ubiquitous. I can't help but harbor the sobering thought that my life is being managed according to some preordained script that might allow for some wiggle room, but if I veer too far, I am brought to heel.  Maybe that's true, maybe not.

Saddened to hear about the passing of an acquaintance of mine. Over the years, various friends of mine lived with him at his house in Wilton, NH. We had some good times there. Ah, you can't go home again. I'm not sure of the specific nature of his passing, but I have an idea. Did he slip through the cracks? I don't know.

No, you can't go home again. There is perception and there is reality and maybe something that rests in between. Sometimes it seems I still have a substantial social circle, but when I examine it, the results indicate otherwise. Social media like Facebook is good at projecting the illusion of such things, but the truth is often different. It's alright, life happens. We get older and our worlds narrow into smaller, tighter spheres. It's the nature of things.

Well, on that cheery note, will end this and try to write some lyrics, my fucking Achilles heel. I'll read, too, maybe watch The Act of Killing, a film I'm very curious about. And yoga and so on. The day is young, I go forth.

Ciao!