Oh Mohave!

The butterflies are back and they are RUNNING....AMUCK!!!!! AAAHHHHHH!! I'm so happy about this! Butterflies are super pretty, and they DO land on your nose to say hello and it DOES tickle and you DO get laugh attacks when you fall victim. They're everywhere today man. Kyoto's pretty excited about it too. How can anyone stay inside anymore? All i wanna do is play now. Playing is where it's at man.

This past week and a half I've been obsessing on some summer projects. I've been researching and beginning the schematics on a wind turbine for my place of stay. From what I've gathered, they're relatively low cost if you rummage through junkyards or the recycler. I feel that it's time to become more receptive to mana and address the duh in domestic energy solutions. The solution is what trendsetters are calling hygridding. Once the prototype is done, and if it's under or around $100, it only makes sense to share this formula. I'm sure more research needs to be done in regards to legality because PG&E and all those fucks aren't going to let this slide easily. But I think this is loads easier than long haul investments of photosynthetic styles. Wind is free and easy to play with.

But...there's also the efficiency in human energy. Why not human to mechanical to electric? How fresh would it be to have pedal powered anything? David Butcher has already tapped into this idea quite extensively. To rig a pedal-powered device, namely a stationary cycle attached to a motor, inverter, and etc., would be so boss because the obvious exercise benefits as well as the energy independence. Too much to say here.

The other project that I've been ready to tackle is a planter box but not just an ordinary one. I want to integrate a permaculture approach. This idea has been a brewin' since almost 5 years ago. Pesticide-free veggies? COMPLETE synergy? This would be ideal. If i could raise some peppers by July, that would own soo much. I would like to use mycelia some how but it's a little intimidating. Not sure how much influence they've got but I know it's powerful goodness for the soil. I've been using mycelia on myself for months now and it's promoted super breathing. Maybe it's worth a try.

Oh man. Oh man. I need to hit up the hedlands soon.

pickled neotony

i've been flirting lately, romancing about singing everywhere i went, especially in public. but not in that broadway, perfect smile, unruffled, the audience is watching type noise...more like even the scuzzbuckets sing, when they rob people or get into fights...and the old been there done that types...they could sing like johnny cash or connie francis. i wouldn't want it to be too dramatic because that would put an expiration date on this idea. i just would like to indulge in a week of constant singing...while ordering take-out chinese =)..oooooooh.....perusing the farmers market....asking for directions.....and it would all just be our way. if i ever grow a colony and if i become mayor of this colony, i would not write laws but provide incentives for singing.

i've also been curious as to the idea of pockets. i find pockets to be for the most part wonderful, cool, and wish they were on everything. pockets put spells on me. when i see pockets that don't belong to me, i always wonder (if it isn't too obvious) what's in it as the possibilities are endless. i'm disappointed that humans aren't engineered with pockets. they should include that feature in the production process. but maybe human's don't have pockets because they weren't meant to bring things with them in travel due to the idea that everything they require for survival may be extracted or borrowed from mana. dang, i wonder if any rasta mons ever grew a famously large dread (singular) and made it into a sachet of some sort...that...would be SUCH a professional move right there.

dissonant waltz

i feel at times that my energy cycle is always a recombining dimension of the american revolutionary war, where there is a great upheaval of one dominating force by the opposition. for reasons i am unable to explain, my mind and heart are commonly at odds against each other, scraping together each's reserves to perform this quite sloppy coup d’état. more often then not, i believe the mind to be the overdog. i believe that the heart unleashes its loudest war cries, yet somehow, it heeds the decree of the mind's ambition, becomes soft and quiet, and transforms into not a pain felt by the sympathetic ear, but a google entry, with an extensive exposition. and the mind...an untamed griffin, with no sense of pathos, frantic at night and haggard during day, desperately scouting for it's identity. oh how they may unite.

of unearthing seeds unplanted

It would be foolish to forget that the pursuit of knowledge, whether be the detecting ancient patterns, traversing space and time, or hyper-magnification of being, has no ultimate wisdom without the pure and solitary intent to unravel thyself. To misplace this memory would be to only stymie the very humanity in which induces this transcending curiosity. Strangely, bidding farewell to selfish pursuits and welcoming those of others unsheaths not the answers to the questions which we desire, but the radiating lust which these questions lure. A great cosmic imposition is an ultimatum: Give in to humanity, or give to humanity. May art be the quotient and if so, of celebration, or suffering?

hermeto pascoal, your order is ready.

inner-spirit scripting sabbaticals push you away and you drift from cosmic growth. if any dark energy impels backward dancing or if rotten pursuits elicit mechanical rhythms, then we are in dehydration of dharma and curiousness. oh how one may abandon curiosity! oh how one may be inspired by moral heros!

i have mediated on plans, and these plans are of meditation...of trekking to eureka to forage for psylocibe cubensis and summon forth destruction to liberate the phoenix. is it not more than coincidence, the shape of mushroom and shape of atom bomb cloud, both "reactions releasing vast quantities of energy from relatively small amounts of matter".

as trinie dalton desires, i want to place upon my head a gnome hat and sit atop a red-and-white polkadotted fly agaric. i would also like to understand what the other lamas saw in Tenzin Gyatso when he was a little lad, if he glowed a bit and exactly what color was emanated from his person. i wonder how an unforseen gut shot from a tibetan missile would feel like, if during your 3rd level in mario kart, some monks were all "holy.....fuck......there he is......the 14th reincarnation of the buddhist master! your holinesssssss...." **bowing so low they do forward summersaults on neck face** the kid was probably like, "who got winner?"

learning xhosa has been much more of a challenge than portuguese, but since historians believe that it was glottogony up to the latest hominids', i feel it would be an honor to achieve fluency. however learning portuguese, being also tonally whimsical and noted splice of spanish and french, has been a pleasure from time to time. i hope to achieve moderate fluency within a year.

stunted growth baaad. watering soul, goooood.

craig, fuck your list

stifled by economics and ear waxed rats,
a dose of perscripted song so syndicate but on sale,
i ogle the windowsill at wishes floating

flying carpets will probably make you fat like cars do, but at least you won't pollute the air

to jack -- a fever-induced shot in the dark.


a half moon slung in the black night canopy of stars and cigarette smoke
drifting heavenbound with the sounds of sunday and thoughts of monday.

hello, moon.
hello, margot.
what have you been up to today?

the blue light of another haight morning casts a spell on us both.
witches brew.
time lingers and slows to a halt as we scour
the sheets, streets, and stalls

produce. juicy fruits. black berries and nuts.
j j the pusherman digusts the impatient pedestrian people
in front of the great let's go to the bibliotech and boogie
with vonnegut and palahniuk.

armed with beats swaying in street
a platinum prelude to the olympic noodle opus
we go together like legs and feet

explosive expressions and laughter wider than wide
defenseless to the tactile tactics we both climb inside
the vast universe on our corner of the weekend.

not much, you know, same old, same old. you?


By Margot

suspended in the sky with rainbow suspenders

~~you ate my crappy omelete but smiled anyway~~ to Margot

like magpies magnetized on the corner of laguna and hayes
luck-charmed and kissing croissant flaked lips...and...
speaking soft word on the syncopated step...with....
that arm-ta-lumbar interlock,
like midnight rat in talons de hawk
but
for the free ride not homicide

with your coiffure in a mess and those tendrils i obsess
and obsess and obsess like
Dionysus dry mouthed strolling through the vineyard...like...
a hound snooping around your flower bed,
unearthing a cachet of sublime redolence
with each tinge an overdose and...
breath after breath is death after death and...
i am not worthy of these immortal formalities

My lips two fish bound side by side
portraying parabolic impressions
out the emerald lagoon,
to languish and swoon
from scapula to clavicle to ear and behind...with....
smooth water style upon both third eyes,
salmon pair schooling selves with skill
will glide and glide then
retire upon thrills of rose flushed cheeks,
and gallantly perish, a journey so meek.



From Jack

on behalf of the alpha and omega

~~So i just took off on my bicycle~~ to Margot

i would bike over booby traps
hidden from baghdad to bogota,
even the ocean too,
hang from a worn out
crow infested telephone wire
like a koala with no business
being in the city
just to see you read kerouac
upon your windowsill

and if my bike got eated by a monster,
i would beat him up to get it back
because that's messed up
but if my bike was destroyed
i would try to become
an engineer over night
so i could build a unicycle and
get to you

and during my morning alpha-bits breakfast
between my one-wheeled spurts
if i couldn't find a "p" to spell your name
i would pedal to Post Cereal's factory
and sabotage the production line
and tell all the workers that for some
beautiful reason
the changed alpha-bits to
Patricia-is-healthy-for-you-bits

if i found a wishbone in the barn on the way
i would probably fight
dirty and ungracefully to win
so then i could wish for ten more
to give to you
and you could wish that no one ate chiciken
ever again
and you'd still have nine more wishes left
plus a die-hard army of chickens
at your disposal

when i sleep during the trip i would have
lucid dreams
and
i would somehow
connect all the instruments i own
and be a busker like
Dick van Dyke in Marry Poppins
perform all the songs i came up with
while thinking about you during
my bubble baths
...all while flying rainbow colored kites
and probably getting some of them tangled
in each other
but it's okay because i have
a whimsical imagination
so i'll pretend they're just copying
my feelings for you

with all the quarters i made from
this 8 year adventure
i would enroll in audiology school
and pay attention
then i would hide a microphone
in your shower
and record you singing whatever
i would deconstruct the frequencies
tone and timbre
and eventually win the nobel prize
for the "Patricia Formula"
because after mailing mixtapes
laced with this template
to every celebrity
the current president will have passed
a mandate on free health care
for all
end homelessness
and President Bill Murray will be
the first democrat/actor
to admit the truth, that
the Patricia formula can save the world

i would awake from this immaculate dream
find out it all didn't happen
and instead of punching all the animals
in a fit of rage
i would still be happier than ever
because
it's the start of another day and
i would be
on my way
to see you
reading kerouac upon your windowsill


From Jack

Champagne for my good friends...good pain for my sham friends

After a brief cameo in Long Beach, I've supposed a few denouements about the ecosystem i had once experimented and evolved in. However I must precede these ideas by the fact that judging a city solely by aesthetics, weather conditions, businesses to pig out at and places to inebriate ourselves in MUST be largely superseded by the criticism of common folk who occupy the landscape, as it is humans who curb or cartel the sweeping energy of city to city. This being propped, I will say that the grub is mediocre, the weather laudable, and social scene quite lackluster. This entry is starting to feel only two strides away from a yelp blurb.

2 Things:

NOT ALL...but LOTS of kats are just dying here...whether or not they were transplanted or native, i FEEL that these humans are deteriorating. This is one of a few reasons i migrated north. Long Beach carts the drugged out "when in Rome" mantra so heavily that it feels icky. Heaps and stacks of kids are just fucked-up all the time, functioning or disfunctioning day to day, WAITING for Aladdin's carpet to swoop them up bearing 45 degrees bound luck-ville. I DO believe we should and will get that big break one day or the at least our biggest break we will ever get but sedating ourselves with false senses of security in the meantime while calling it a party yet it's every day, cheap (yet expensive) thrills substituting for NECESSARY exposure to pain, and putting around our PERSONAL yet insecurity-driven verses from the book of ideology to quell the fear of self-actualization will probably get old soon. And fuck yes it's hard and some have it more rough than I will ever know, but we gotta TRY and we gotta hustle our at our best and work on it...setting examples for our friends so that THEY get inspired from our struggle.

NOT All...but almost everybody knows each other. I FEEL that i can concoct proper nomenclatures for all the tribes and cliques from Atlantic to West 4th St. This may sound like a good thing but I feel that situations like these breed warriors of anonymity, which certainly argues for our Individualistic tendency. It is assumed this statement is in accord with knocking subcultures in LBC but the intention is to emphasize the notion that there, everybody is separated by only 2 degrees, meaning that if Picaboo Flemming finds out he farts fire, then tells Margaret Nemoy, Luscious Weinner, former best friend of Picaboo but current nemesis will have found out and thus impregnating all associates with this news. So basically, you can't even pass gas without everyone finding out. It is for this reason, being an anonymous hippapotamous has value.

Beyond these OPINIONS, i still have a spot for long beach in my corazon and it still sports a charm like no other city i've been to....this love is bolstered by the diversity and acceptance of diversity, as LBC is a universal city.

In another report.......

I was blessed by a shaman for the first time in my life. This in turn, possibly placebo and possibly coinciding other energy influences, has made me whole, and pure, and free-flowing. The shaman was actually a mother of a new friend and a shaman of the Hmongtype. She in no way appeared cliche or trite at all. I came into this situation by chance. I had no bleeding agenda or desire other than a basic spiritual cleansing. i did receive a proper dose of goodness though. The ceremony went as follows...

I was given options. I declined a card induced reading into the future because I didn't want to abuse that knowledge or curtail "my future." I accepted a "good luck" ritual and a hand-reading of my past. In the good luck ritual, "S" (the shaman) used an egg, two white candles, a bowl, and a bottle of water. She first prompted me to sit up and naturally I refrain from much movement or verbal communication. Then she lit the candle and grafted it to the plate, then proceeded to chant and wave the plate in front of my face. She then took the raw egg and rubbed it from place to place on my body while chanting. This actually took quite some time and I began to relax, remove my skepticism, and I almost fell asleep. While this was occurring, I was given previous instructions to focus on what I want removed from me such as things in my life that I found unpleasant or un-beneficial. Afterward S put the egg under the candle flame for a couple of seconds and cracked it into the bowl. She then examined the yolk and chanted summore. S then extinguished one of the candle flames into the bowl. I can't remember all of it but I know that there was more chanting afterward.

After this section was complete, S then read my palm and indicate two things about me which can be construed as general but I feel are true. She indicated that I had one serious and painful heart-break and one minor. Then she said I was fortunate and wonderfully blessed/born with good luck. S then stated that I am in great health. Lastly, she stated that this year and the following year do not hold much luck for me but that the following year holds large, large, large amounts of luck and success and many great things will happen to me at that time.

The last act was a blessing. S recited a blessing and blessed me. She also blessed a bottle of water and I was given a sort of prescription. i was told that after every shower in the morning, to pour some of the water on my head and drink some. She said by doing so I will attain things that I want in life and be welcomed with good luck. S also told me that on the 31st of this month (tomorrow), followed by the 1st and 2nd of next month, right when i wake, i should give thanks to what I have and wish/ask for things i do want, which will then come true.

When my stay was complete, I felt (possibly placebo induced) wonderful and peaceful and calm. I've always wanted to experience a ceremony of sorts and I believe that the next time will be a great one. Maybe I'll try a different one.