golden_clit

Dangerous times are ahead in the American nation. The government is working day & night to conceal all of its activities. They are criticizing the freedom of the press, as though they had that prerogative.

In headlines all government services are failing, all aid, all obligations. People will only suffer for putting that monkey in the Oval Office. It will be years before that land is productive & at peace. They will be years of suffering, of hardship, of labor, of poverty & hunger. They will be years of war. I doubt if the nation will recover. The world will emerge with a new face, that is for certain.

I don't know if there is anything that we can do. I only know that I have put my faith in nature, in our roots, in the earth, in our atavistic instinct, in our primeval urges. I have kept in mind the purest needs of the human race, they are water, air, food, clothing, shelter, fuel, they are all provided to us by the earth. At present our means for obtaining them rapes the earth. Presently, there will be nothing left. We must remember how sacred the earth is that is provides for all these needs. We must find means of production that are in harmony with the earth.

We have very few years left to change our ways before we are swimming in a bath of our own blood, filthy oil & more poluted water than we can manage, as the oceans swell with the dripping & melting of the poles.

¿Qué es la vida? Un frenesí.
¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión,
una sombra, una ficción,
y el mayor bien es pequeño:
que toda la vida es sueño,
y los sueños, sueños son.
~Calderon

Life is a dream & dreams are dreams.

I live in a house where everyone comes to party. I am breathing & dreaming. Out past the fields, north of the city. People stay for days, too exhausted at dawn to move, they crawl into sleep. They'll have tea or Turkish coffee in the morning when I light the first bowl.

I'm smoking & drinking. I've always been a wino. The party seems never to end. It begins again. I am reading & writing. When I can write, I am happy. It is nearly summer. The beach is beautiful. The ocean is delicious in the heat of the day. Late in the night, when dancing has pulled the sweat from our beer flooded bodies, the Mediterrenean is sweet beneath the white moon.

There are few seconds to spare in this single instant our lives span across; few moments in the instant during which all of eternity must occur. I've stopped now to breathe, to take each breath with the greatest of gratitude & the purest pleasure & passion. I am simply satisfied to know I had a chance to live this life.

I think I broke my toe drunkenly wandering through the strip-club barefoot last night.

*notes to self:
*wear short vail since ceremony requires drinking of wine at least twice
*wear comfortable shoes
*do not wear anything that will be complicated to go to the bathroom in

בשבילי נברא העולם

When I awoke Wednesday morning I knew there was something wrong. I had a feeling in my gut. I turned to Joey, who was beside me. "Something isn't right," I told her. We ate breakfast in bed. We went out into this fantastic country to attend to our lives.

I started making phone calls, even woke my brother up at the crack of dawn. "I just wanted to hear your voice," I told him. "Go back to sleep." When I spoke to him again, yesterday, he needed no explanation. He is flesh of my own and tears of my tears and the blood in my veins; we are as inseparable as the Ying and the Yang. He knew I had dreamt some vision of death.

My love knew too, that I was worried, he reached me as best he could. When we spoke later, he told me that someone we knew had passed Wednesday night. "He ODed, didn't he?" I asked, from the shouting echoing halls of the festive Friday afternoon mall. Our bar darkened eyes hidden behind sunglasses, Joey and I walked through the hall, along the tables of produce and food, tasting and testing as we went.

I spoke to my love again as he was driving along the New York Southern State Parkway last night. I could picture the road before my closed eyes as he drove, as though I were there in the car next to him, as though I myself were driving. "His sister couldn't read her speech," he told me of the funereal proceedings, "she had to have someone read it for her while she stood there." I could not imagine standing in her place, I could not imagine… I hope I die before they put my brother in the ground, I don't think I could bare it.

We spoke of happier things then, of rolling on the ground, biting & licking & kissing as we've done since childhood. It was after two in the morning here in the Promised Land. I turned over in my bed, in this house out past the fields where I live. "Call me when you get home," I said and he did. I sat up in my sleep and sang to him for a moment. A song of praise, of ascents, it meant, "Hallell'u-Ya! Praise be the Omnipresent Spirit!"

In the morning I thought of rock n' roll, of art & revolution. I went looking for other pieces of my soul & mind which I have planted in hidden hearts. I let him turn thoughts in my head about the craddle of life & civilization between the ancient gushing rivers that flow forth from God's great Paradise, the Tigris & the Euphrates. Have you noticed that that same craddle has become a black hole of death?

I could go on about death, but there is nothing more natural. It is, after all, the other face of the coin, the shining reflection of life in the mirror of truth. They are brothers, Ying inseparable from Yang. I opened up the news, but it tore at my heart & brought tears from the two black wells that I hide behind their Holly Golightly mask.

I should mention the wars that I found in the news. They seem to be tearing the world apart, when you read the news you get the sense that the end is quite near. I know for sure that this is no different than any other year of history. The world is forever on the brink of destruction. This is entirely of our own accord we must understand. We (i.e. Man) are always about to destroy what was given to us to complete.

We should say, as the Mishnah teaches us, "Bishvil'li nivrai ha'olam – For my sake [only] the world was created." We might respect it more if we thought of it that way. We might respect ourselves more. We might have fewer visions of violent & unnecessary death.

They call me Willy Wonka. I'm the candy man


We have lickable wallpaper! Go ahead lick it! The bananas taste like bananas, the strawberries taste like strawberries, the snozzberries taste like snozzberries!

Veruca Salt retorts, "Snozzberry! Who's ever heard of a snozzberry?"

We are the music makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams.