A song I just had to write

Click here:It's You

HIM: Oh the world it is a bitter place

             But every time I see your face

             I make it to a better place

             It’s true

HER: Livin’ life has its despair

            So to suffer’s only fair

            But I’ve got my woes to share

            With you

HIM: High on the hills when the sun goes down

            I’ll park my car up in your town

            Open up your mouth to sing

            I’ll fill you up while your bells ring

HIM: I don’t care what they all say

            ‘Cause I look to our weddin’ day

            Tell me what you’ve got to say

            My boo

HER: You’re my friend, you’re my guy

            As long as rain comes from the sky

            I’ll be your lady, by and by—I do!

HER: Let’s go down into the sea

            I’ll hold you and you’ll hold me

            Let that peaceful water roar

            And don’t you ever ask for more!

HIM: Your heart’s been always big and round

            But I hear another’s sound

            And I go runnin’ like a hound

            From you

HER: Boy, you been mean, you been cruel

            You make me feel like I’m a fool

            I oughta send you back to school

            Anew

HER: But I’m more n’ just a little fond!

            You son-of-a-bitch, we got a bond

            So wake up from your dreamy sleep

            Get it right, don’t make me weep

HIM: I can’t say that it won’t hurt

            To drag ourselves up out the dirt

            But on my word I’ve got the nerve

            To do you right like you deserve

            On my word I’ve got the nerve

            To do you right like you deserve

Phish & Chips

A reinitiation into the aimless babe in the woods wanderings of Grady Avenue.

2011-2012 New Years Show: OKAY! 

You know, watching it on a screen 2 weeks later is not quite the same. But at MSG, could I have spent the evening nakedly frying eggs between sets? Most likely not. 

No one does it like Phish. Seriously. The Dead may be more soulful, less produced (pre-1980 anyway), crunchier. But come on people, fucking NO ONE does this shit:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51LeCswsTMw&feature=fvst

If you can't dig the whole thing (though I recommend you do), check out 5:00 for a bit, 11:00 for a bit, and 17:30 on.

What I thought?

I, once again, do feel directionless. When I get this way, I shut down for a minute, then LATCH onto something to give myself purpose. Like writing? Writing is great, I love it. But is that IT? I am goalless today. I want to just BE--to get out of school, never work, miraculously have just enough money to do anything I want, and travel the world! 

And it feels like I am picking up right where I left off. 

Music

I finally got around to recording 2 of my songs. I gotta say--they are pretty rough, but I ain't no professional, it is really just for fun. Anyway, check em out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fOZG1_iGw4&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9RD26XpdKs&feature=youtu.be

2012

They really need to start delivering breakfast.  It took me a few tries to make coffee this morning. 

So, how 'bout it? The newest of years: beheld, behold. 

Some words to bring it in, read under a sea of silver pines in the dark cold wet night...

They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld
Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,
Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate
With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes:
Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon;
The World was all before them, where to choose
Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:
They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow,
Through Eden took thir solitarie way...

Milton's blessingcurse swirling through flames and coals, 

our two (four?) heroes despairing but hopeful, terrified but anticipating, alone but together, as they look back on Paradise, 2011, what they know, all they know, and into the unknown, the world, 2012, the newest of new years....

A prayer slipping into meditation as the seconds passed us through into January, followed by a rich and breathful awakening to the stars and a sweetwise Oshan soliloquy...

Accept yourself. Respect yourself. Allow your nature to take its own course. Don't force, don't repress. Doubt - because doubt is not a sin, it is the sign of intelligence. Doubt and go on inquiring until you find.  One thing I can say: whosoever inquires, finds. It is absolutely certain; it has never been otherwise. Nobody has come empty-handed from an authentic inquiry.

And soft reveling into the dawn. 

I have nothing to say about 2011.  And 2012 should not does not give me reason to improve my life.  I do nothing different today than I have been doing everyday in recovery.  I simply strive to be healthy and treat other people well.  This surely leads to happiness! 


Though I thought it charming to share a beautiful little nugget from a man who changed folk music:

Thanks Woody. You keep it simple. And exactly 60 years later, especially 60 years later, maybe let's get back to that?

Happy New Year.  

Some soft poems

Girl

Girl sits near Homer stroking Cupid

Her head clutched by knees, her eyes looking at darkness of her sweatpant’d lap.

Too exhausted to fight gravity today (I know it) and doesn’t want to let Earth’s wetness tickle her back

or soil her sweatpants?

Or too exhausted to fight the other gravity, the one that comes with birth.

She argues with the day, argues with her boyfriend, argues with herself

but relents by looking up to let the bright blurry blue sky soak her vision.

Captured by the grass she is—the others won’t enter her,

Because in this moment, she might think she is safe. 

The End of Things

It always rains at the end of things.

Winds blow when we reunite,

Ignite, to heat but burn,

Comforting mellow gazes.

These winds that can only induce passion tickle passion’s sufferers.

The gray Earth, replenished by rains,

blown by winds, scorched by fire, and soaked again.

Apple Weekend

The kids in the meadow drape themselves over each other

And the cows across the way wander alone to healthier grass tufts

Their difficulties are in surviving

Ours are in thriving

Mortality

It is true, I am not that old. By what standard? I am not talking about the short-lifed ancients nor even the tragedies of third-world living. Someone close to me once said that she never thought she'd live to be over 40. Another friend told me he hoped he never did. 

But I ain't middle-aged for me. I will say that I am scared of death. And in the past few weeks, I have been thus graced--with it, with death--not as if it has been in front of me, but that it has been singing to me in my ear. 

Dreams, visions, thoughts. Unwanted Kafkian fantasies of oblivious condemnation, flashbacks to driving into trees at top speeds (these times sans seatbelt), musings (no, no, this material is unsuitable for words of flighty connotation!), more like ghosts, coming to me and showing me my family at my grave. 

And films--why not mention them? The Thin Red Line, the Descendants, The Music Never Stopped...all showing me that death is real. As if I didn't already know? Well, why should I? I have been close, lucky, at times, and of course turned on the news, and even known people who have passed on, people I cared for, even loved....but I have a certain distance from death, let's call it an unfamiliarity. It is that thing that you think doesn't happen to people like us. 

And moments, moments of physical sluggishness, unknown sluggishness to this 22 year old body, sluggishness and achiness and just plain bad health foreign to my boyish conception of myself of 6 years past.  I am in my prime! Or has it passed?

There is no need to be silly. I am at the apex of fortitude, virility, and stamina--at least biologically speaking...then why doth the body, the mind, protest so much?

Being here, or there, well here, yes, you know, I am temporarily a misfit. For I am reinserted into the environment of 16 year old Nicholas. And? In this environment, nothing has changed...but the mind is a precious thing to taste. I am thus duped: the current mind of me mine your humble narrator is being confronted with assimilation attempts from teenage Nicky. And the feeling, folks, really, is, not explainable, or in, explicable, if, you will. 

There is no realization, no lesson. I am still scared of death. Still don't want to die. Still feel uneasy with his (death's) recent flirtations--especially because they are so subtle, but so internal. Myself sneaking myself right past--no, into--my self. 


Ah, but alas...of course there is resolution! Tension...tension, tension, tensionnnnn....AND....release. How opportune these graces these blazes seem to be, are. But really, of course, now is as good a time as any, yes. For no time is perfect, but they all are--because, constructed as such, we must familiarize ourselves with what is to come! It is all around us...but here, folks, here, is an instance of it coming in. And does it come from outside? No. This is how we are made. In from within. 


And there you have it. The sadder but wiser girl for me, is me--and all that much happier for my wisdom, for though the acquisition of my knowledge has been passive (here), I actively choose to not only retain it--but let it fester (No! Too robust! Let us defer to "prosper"--can't we leave with smiles?). 

Um Tchauzinho

Bom gente. Estarei sem internet para os próximos dias. Então, estou fazendo minha despedida agora. 

I will be without Internet for a little while, so I am saying goodbye now. 

I cannot live in the present. All these dates and plans swimming around in my head...for the last month I have been obsessed with June 22nd, the day I move out. Now that it's here, I am obsessed with the date I return. Then the date I get to camp. Then the date I'm back in Boston.

And each morning I wake up and think: ok ten more days til then. 15 til then. And it is such all throughout the day. 

Fuck!

I just can't wait until AUGUST 11TH when I am SETTLED in ONE PLACE, MY HOME. Gosh! I have a great summer lined up...but I want to be immobile. I am done with traveling for a bit. Let's hope to God once I am there I don't start thinking: ok 3 months til Thanksgiving....

Anyways. Presence is one of my many difficulties right now, that and not being self-destructive in order to deal with my anger. 

Well. I hate goodbyes. I really do. But I awr-e-y gone.

O Brasil: Você tinha me tratado muito bem. E às vezes, porque morar aqui nas suas fronteiras pode ser TÃO difícil para um estrangeiro, eu tenho que te agradecer--porque eu nunca aprendia nem crescia mais na minha vida inteira. Obrigado, viu? Saudades já. 

Porra! Que emoção.....