Monday, December 05, 2005

Last screening: RAY. Great movie. Not great as in great, but Hollywood great at least. Wow what a master. Ray fucking Charles. What a master. You forget how many great songs he did. Tomorrow I will buy his whole catalog. In the meantime, it just hit me in there. man it hit me. my leg was shaking a million miles an hour the whole time and my pen was flying across my little notepad while I was watching the movie. Three hours and I couldn’t stop my leg from shaking. I'm serious about this whole fusing MTV with PBS thing we’re doing with this TV show project, the same way ray Charles fused gospel music with boogie woogie and rock and roll. we’re going to make deep and important issues cool, rock and roll, fun, and entertaining, AND we’re going to make rock and roll and pop culture entertainment type stuff deep and meaningful and important. delusions of grandeur? Hell yeah. Nothing wrong with them. I'm on fire right now from them. pyramids are built from them. light bulbs are created from them.

Not only that, but more than that. there was this moment early in rays career where he was looking for his sound. Well actually his record company execs were telling him to look for his own sound because he sounded like so many other people. and I've been hearing that too much myself the last few years, my whole career. Friends I trust. Honestly I don't know if I have it in me. this unique sound that everyone is telling me to get in there and find. But I am committed to finding it. I know I have it in me. I just don't know exactly what to do to find it, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to find it. my music is so damn important to me. it means everything to me. with this next CD of ours I will find it. we will go where we have never gone before. all of us.

I just wish we weren't so goddamned broke. I want things to be moving so much faster than they are. I think and feel so deeply that this sucks. Having to wait so long in between recording sessions. I have to find a way to get the money we need to be able to record whenever and how ever we want to. to get to that point where we can achieve our full potential as a group. I know we have it in us. I just know it. we just need the money to be able to get it down. I'm going to get my rock and roll dream. I can see it. I always have seen it. And I know I'm with the right group of guys to do it. Just have to find a way to make it happen.

In other news, I think I'm having some kind of a nervous breakdown or something. this morning as I was getting dressed to go to this church to meet the bishop I had one sweater in mind and I was determined to wear it. and then I couldn’t find it anywhere and as I began ripping everything apart in my apt looking for it I was like almost on the verge of tears over one sweater, which you could almost understand, maybe, if you were a girl or something, or if you didn't have any clothes... except for the fact that I have to have at the least a thousand or more various shirts and sweaters. So the outrage and frustration was a little uncalled for. way over the top. of course I did eventually find the sweater and felt such relief. on the train it occurred to me that I might be going over the edge or something.

Last screening: dinner for five second season. Great stuff in this. really cool idea.

Current spin: DC3, their new one not out yet. you me and everyone else.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

raining non-stop in new york for seven days

Oct 13th
It has been raining non-stop in New York since Friday. It is now Thursday of the following week. no wonder 8 million people live here. can it get much better than this? Not!

Ram Dass' secretary just called me to catch me up on his health. he was sick. but he is better now. not traveling anymore but giving one retreat in Maui in December. i am going to schedule it and see if i can get him to do an interview for the show. i love that man.

TULIN sends a message from Turkey about the recent natural disasters, offering a different perspective:

“YES I see what you mean..the last natural disasters -south asia quake so sad...according to last report one generation was disappeared in the South Asia .. but you know it is not destiny.. the reason of their deaths is not only a quake.. they died because there are out of resorces, humanity, administration, money, I.Q, city planning, the houses to be built in low quality.....in other words they died because they were living in an underdeveloped country...how can I know? Because I LÝVE in a such country.. do you know that the most of the houses crashing in Ýstanbul quake were made of sea sand and also built by persons whose jobs are not related to the building.. I can count such many things ....there is the BIGGIST VIOLATION' ...you know 'SAVING MONEY ALWAYS COME FIRST SAVING HUMAN LIFE' in these countries.
Therefore the death is not DESTINY in these countries due to natural disasters ....but ýf you are still alive in spite of all these conditions ..believe me, THIS CAN BE DESTINY.”


Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Oct 12th
Find that when I date girls that aren't the ONE, you know, that one dream girl you spend your whole life thinking about and imagining building a home and family with one day... girls who I don't think that we are going to have a long term together, I get this uncomfortable nauseas feeling. It feels like I'm doing something wrong. I know all my other guy friends think I'm nuts and would give their left testicle to be able to date a different hot girl every night, and indeed they scream at me everyday about what an idiot I am for being such a wuss and turning down the opps a lot of the times. But for the life of me I just can’t shake it. last night as I was walking with Manuela I was so overcome with this feeling of trauma about it, just because we were hanging out... what came to me was that if you know a girl is not the one, you know, like not a girl/THE girl that you would want to be with for a long time or build a family with, like, if she's not knocking you OUT right then and there, then you just might not have any business being with her or hanging out with her at all. cause really you're just getting her hopes up. I mean, plenty of guys date girls that there's no way they are going to be with long term, and the girls know it, but they do it anyway, so what's the big deal. I mean, this is what one voice in my head says anyway. I mean, if you guys go out and have fun then what's the big deal.

But because you know, the truth is, is that at first when we date someone we have that little window open where we can take them or leave them you know. like that. but once you start fooling around then it all changes. It gets more intense. You both get attached. Even when you think or say that you aren't attached you still are. Remember vanilla sky???!!!! That's what I'm talking about. pretty soon you have chicks chasing you around town freaking out, or worse yet, you just get that sick feeling inside like you know they are hurting and its because you took them out a bunch of times and worse you fooled around with them and they totally started liking you but you didn't like them as much back and now they are really sad and confused and hurt and don't understand... ugh. What a fucking nightmare.

I think the key is just to keep things really really casual and platonic. No matter what. that's what you'd want Mrs. Right to be doing till she meets you anyway. but I'll tell you, even when I do that I get a weird feeling that I don't like. Its weird though because its like I only get that weird feeling with some, not with all. like with little Brit I never get that. but maybe that's because we don't actually date but we just hang out like Tuesday and i. more like bro and sis. And maybe that's what it comes down to. as long as you just keep it really casual and platonic. Its almost like you can feel when you are starting to like someone that you know you shouldn’t. you know? and you can feel when they are starting to like you when they shouldn’t. and I think that's where the discomfort comes in. Because if you already know that there is not a long term potential there, then you know, you're kind of wasting each other’s times.

Lots more details I could go into here to better illustrate the subject but due to the public nature of the diaries we’ll just leave it at that. But I'll tell you, I would love to just be able to date and not feel sick about it all the time. I swear to God I feel like I'm cheating half the time and this has been going on for four years! but who the hell I'm cheating on? totally effing crazy.


Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Oct 11th
Dreamt of Cleopatra this morning. this was the second night in a row. There were two aspects to it: one was this overwhelming feeling of love between us. we were in a carpet store (where else are we going to be, right? it is a dream after all. haha) and we are shopping for carpet. We then wake up from sleeping right there on a big stack of carpets in the middle of the store and it is as if for a moment we are waking up from all of this current mess that we are involved in right now with one another in real life. it was intensely magical. We woke up and looked at each other all-sparkly and madly in love just as if it was five years ago. She whispered to me with sleepy eyes, ‘you better hurry up and love me now before we wake up and start arguing again.’ and I responded, ‘why? can you feel me loving you?’ ‘yes, of course silly. but once we start arguing over things we aren't going to be able to feel it; it always ruins it for us...’ So I grabbed her to hug her and did my best to show her physically and with my words how much I truly loved her and we just melted into one another. this was the first time I had felt this kind of love in years.

the other aspect was this scene just afterwards where she goes up to this huge wall I had full of writing that I had been working on as part of a project that must have been forty feet by twenty feet high and she touches something and half the writing disappears and is lost forever. this is classic Cleopatra. always accidentally messing up my work from just one touch... I am torn between being intensely angry and wanting to still love her. there is not much to figure out with this one. this has been the story since we met lifetimes ago I am sure.

-------------------------------------

I sincerely believe that the Transcendence Diaries must end for a spell. For many many many reasons.

I have struggled with trying to determine the cause of me being so able and willing to write in the diaries and yet never feeling capable of or desiring to work on all the other books and screenplays I have started and always seem to be working on but never quite finish. This morning it just came to me: the diaries are a free for all. I just shoot out whatever I want to however and whenever I want to. no will or discipline or skill needed. Its just blogging, and after all, we clearly see now, anyone can blog. My God, everybody does effing blog. So the novelty of the diaries, started back in 2002 – once so cool and fresh and new – has certainly worn off.

The difference is that with all these other half finished manuscripts of different projects, it’s going to take some time, dedication, skill, commitment, and discipline to actually complete them in a way where we can do something with them. If I spent even half the time working on other works that I do writing in the diaries, then we would surely be on the other side of the fence called ‘oh yeah I remember that one; wrote it back in___________ fill in the blank.’ Whereas now we’re still in ‘oh yeah, I'm still working on this this this and this now.’



But I will leave for a spell with this in mind:

Give up the idea of prediction. Give up psychic readings. Give up astrology and horoscopes. Give up preconceptions. Be only in the moment and observe. Make your observations and conclusions from this space. From a place where you decide what you want and you use self-discipline and your will to get it.

And this:
We have love-feelers. Call it “the heart.” Call them love-synapses, love-neuro-transmitters. They look for love. They seek the love-chemical. They seek to love and to receive love. If you do not use them, feed them, they will still exist. They will still long for love, and seek out loving and receiving love. They will grab onto anything to love and get love from. It is there. underneath it all. I have begun to understand that it is the most important thing of all. Find love.

Monday, October 10, 2005

karaoke rules!


Later this evening, much later. me and brit head to this private room karaoke bar in midtown with a few friends. [pic posted above of me in total rapture singing my heart out.] We stay for four hours. pound down $167 worth of drinks, vegetable curry and shrimp dumplings, (I'm not kidding – you can order food and drinks in these private rooms – can it get any better?) and we sing EVERYTHING. brit does an amazing killing me softly and like a prayer (this song though has some cool lyrics, but drags on forever rather without event. who produced that? – Madonna def got better as time went on.) I get to sing LOVE by John Lennon, which I'd never attempted before, and I even belt out a tame you light up my life. her friend Ryder has a wicked voice and kills on Kiss by prince and runaway train by soul asylum. I love karaoke. Incredibly addicted. I just want to go live in there for a while. like rent it as a hotel room for a few days and live in there. have them serve me drinks and food all day and all night while I sing and sleep a bit here and there. all of us in the room can sing so it’s a good time had by all. Totally in love with Britney. Not like that, but more like when you meet a new friend and you just love them to death. She has style and sass coming out of her ass and there is nothing in between us, no walls. Just this unspoken understanding of things. in a few years she's going to be one hell of a woman. Walking home, the thoughts swimming in my head, I come to understand that there is always going to be that little puppy inside of us that just wants to kiss and hug and lick and lap up everything in its line of site, but there is also the wise old owl that perched up high sees the bigger picture of things. sometimes the owl needs to keep a keen eye on the little puppy and make sure that he doesn’t get into a lot of trouble but still gets to enjoy himself.

The other thing that struck me tonight was that maybe I'm a little lost right now. I mean, normally I would be in the studio with the guys recording and we would certainly be on the road playing for people and for that – for us, and for the fans, all three of them – I am truly sorry. But you know, things are as they are right now. But there were a few times when I was sitting in this room singing my heart out, and drink after drink is being poured and I'm thinking ‘im sitting in this karaoke room singing songs to a screen and getting wasted at three o'clock in the morning with a bunch of 23 year old kids who just graduated from college this year and I'm like this guy in his thirties. What the hell am I doing?!’ Trust me, this occurred to me more than once... but as crazy as that may sound when looked at objectively, I am at the same time almost appreciative of the opportunities like this right now just because things are so generally fucked due to this ongoing legal battle etc... and the sincere lack of funds to work on any real projects. normally I am just kicking ass and taking names but at the moment that isn't necessarily possible. So these simple things as out of the ordinary as they seem to be are almost like a saving grace in a way. keeping my head above water and keeping my mind off of the general malaise caused by all of this bullshit...

I LOVE the woods and nature

Oct 10th
I LOVE the woods and nature. I hate to say it, but I am soon out of here, once I buy in this area, I do not believe it will he here in the city. Will live somewhere super-close, but not directly in the city. I just need space AND nature too much.

O.k. check it. FYI. The last two weeks, I have drank so much alcohol. For the last nine or so years I just never drank – all about keeping it super clean and clear and being a wizard and all that. But then in the last couple of weeks I have been drinking a lot. prob four times a week. and I have to say I have noticed an extreme increase in a general depression rising up within me. nothing from outside. just from within... especially days after I have drank a lot.


Another massive earthquake strikes us. this time in Pakistan. It is a weekly, sometimes daily occurrence now. these natural disasters that we had studied and heard about as kids that would eventually hit the world with increasing frequency. When you log onto the Internet or turn on the television, I know this sounds crazy, but you expect it now. you just expect to see some new natural disaster. It is so commonplace today. the thing that struck me immediately this morning was ‘o.k. another natural disaster. Well at least we know now where we are.

If there is no such thing as an apocalypse – a real, valid, end of the world – which I don't actually believe in myself, then o.k. fine. Whatever you want to call these times though.... I am thinking that because we have had times like this before throughout our civilization, this may just be the type of thing that happens when vibrations around the world get really malevolent, dishonest, and sinister – when they swing hard left or right to the other side. I think that the powers that be in Washington and other leading world governments just keep telling themselves to not think about what they're doing that is wrong or evil or how dishonestly they are handling things, that once its over, its over, and then we can revise history to suit our needs as they always have. [for clarification on what this might mean if you need it, watch this interesting tidbit on the supposed “plane that crashed into the pentagon”: http://www.freedomunderground.org/memoryhole/pentagon244.swf]

...I believe that what is happening is perhaps consciousness itself is at odds with the notion of things continuing on like this anymore. Life-consciousness, the universe, mother nature, God, whatever you want to call it in the moment is just totally wreaking havoc on us right now as a defense mechanism against these evil powers that be. it is almost as if – perhaps this is how it feels to a lot of people at its very core – there is something poisonous in the air, in the earth, in mass consciousness, and this near constant barrage of natural disasters we are currently experiencing is the world’s way of regurgitating and expelling the poisons from our collective system. here's another way of looking at it: mother nature may be looking at it this way: if the people will not or can not do something to put an end to this current state of evil wickedness dishonesty and deception that plagues them, then she will. if she has to blow up dig up mess up destroy plunder siege half the earth and its people she will in order to put an end to the current way that things are being handled... though it is heartbreaking to be alive in the world today, this is a comforting way to look at things...

I shoot off a quick reply to one of a seemingly endless stream of fanmail lately to a girl in the Ukraine who writes that she is worried about the world: “Well hey try to think positive. And remember how much greatness you have in your life right now with all of these natural disasters happening around the world. We are very lucky. Worry will only unsettle things more. Try a big dose of laughter and smiles and appreciation. Make the most of right now/today, because who knows what's going to happen in the next moment. Right? Alright, keep kicking butt and reach out and give whenever and wherever you can. Thanks for your email. We love you too. Fishy”


I think at this point if we’re going to wake up to news of a new disaster somewhere in the world everyday, this is just about the only strategy we can take. we have to find a way to shift consciousness to the other side.


Still INSANELY PROLIFIC in the songwriting department. Since last I wrote, I have penned the songs ‘don't be sad my love (I'm here to give you what you want),’ ‘Silence kills,’ ‘song for juno,’ I love my little Stephie,’ and ‘whatever happened to winona, and 'Kerri.’ [this one was a rewrite of an old classic that i had written about Maddlyne O'Ryan back in the day, and i figured if im going to be releasing this CD of all of these songs with girls names (i think there are about 22 of them for the CD) that Maddie better get her song on there. But i hadnt heard or played the song in about ten years and couldnt find it anywhere so i decided to jsut go from memory and write the rest from scratch so thats what i did and in no time i was finished with it. She def deserves a song on that record. even winona ryder and jane pauley are getting songs. so its the least i could do.) In less than a week! just absolutely on fire. can do no wrong. i can pick up the guitar and with total intention just sit down and write a song. it's sick.


Oct 9th,
Slept in till noon. It is pouring here at the lake house. cliffy cat is doing some carpentry on a picture frame. Boo boo as always is studying some new course she is taking. ‘oh you taking a class in something? how out of the ordinary!’ we laugh. She is always taking a class in something. I am out on the back covered porch, taking in the peace and quiet of the pounding rain. Writing. always writing. and thinking. always thinking.

I sit on the back porch and write, watching and listening to the rain. Soaking it into me. city life is so hard is one of the thoughts that come up. Have to find a way to still live in the city or close to the city but still live outside of it though. I need the woods. I need nature.



Last night I sat with cliffy till the wee small hours of the morning, talking and drinking and smoking in the thoughts till there was nothing left to say. He shared with me his appreciation for our music. how often times there is a transcendence CD in rotation in his car along with all the others. how the songwriting is as good or better sometimes than anything else he listens to, and how much he loves the vocals. ( I still always find myself a bit surprised when people speak about my vocals being good, because I started off as such a bad singer, has taken me years to even consider that I could ever sing well. (and indeed would still contend and do that I don't sing well, I know.)) How as he purchases each new album from our back catalogue he is always amazed how good we are, how much he loves our work. He finds himself stumped as to why we are not huge, why we are not a household name in the music business. he rants and raves. Throws out his favorite songs from each album... he is a huge music lover. He may own every good album ever made. so it is indeed a compliment coming from a guy like him. And I don't even mind. I observe with one part of me how the other part of me doesn’t even mind anymore when peeps are complimenting my music. that's different. It used to make me feel uncomfortable. I even enjoy it. I celebrate in it. I like my music now. I mean, I really like it. i like doing it. I enjoy listening to it. I like that others like it. it all makes me feel good. I even like when other people don't like it in a weird way. (in fact it is those individuals that steer me to venture into different directions now and then.)

As he ponders the reasons why I haven't become a huge success after all these great albums I offer that perhaps it is just luck or fate or destiny and not much to worry about. I make enough to keep doing it after all, and with each new album we gain more and more fans, such as himself for example. And besides, I have made a career out of doing exactly what I want to do, never taking any advice from the upper-ups in the biz. That itself could be a big part of it. I've just never been as interested in pleasing others or mass success as I have been in just accomplishing my goals artistically, feeding my own cravings and desires. For twenty years now my family and friends have been pressuring me to make just one “commercial” album, but I wouldn’t know how if I tried. I'm not even sure what that means. And I'm not sure it wouldn’t kill me if I did break it down and try to figure it out.

Somehow I have found myself understanding that I have walked through the fire with my music and art now. I am on the other side. I am so ecstatically in love with my music and art now, with my creativity, with my quest to continue to explore it and adventure in it, and to achieve exactly what I want to with each new album, as a complete whole work of art. It is as though, yes, I have walked through the fire. And I stand at the other side, cleansed and rebirthed and shining, just happy as all hell that I do what I do and that I can give myself and a few others these gifts.

We also speak about the importance of releasing albums as whole complete works of art, as zeke and Jodiach and I spoke of the other night as well. how important it is even in the new climate of the business now focusing on singles for radio, that we continue to focus on whole albums as singular works of art. That is why we spend so much time and energy and money on artwork still in our camp. Because we believe in the album as a whole. As a statement. As its own little package, or message. Each song an integral part of the package as a whole. Buck the industry. Fuck the industry. Just keep creating your little world of wonder. That's my motto.


He then tells me a little bit about his marriage and divorce. Cliffy cat is about twenty years older than I am. I share with him that is one of the reasons why I have never been married. Just never wanted to take the risk of divorce I guess. He shares about how just after he purchased this big beautiful house on the lake in the woods he came home to discover his wife was sleeping with their yard man. how he spent the next six months in shock, sitting on the couch staring into nothingness crying for hours, feeling very alone and betrayed. I can say nothing. I can only sit there and listen and smile and feel with him. yes my brother. being human. Isn't it a curious and marvelous thing after all. we are indeed the envy of the angels.


As I drift off to sleep this night, I reflect on the weeks earlier events, and my life as a whole, how I have adamantly avoided ever allowing myself to even consider marriage forever to another. How it had/has been as much for reasons of protecting myself from such a fate, as it has been to protect all the wonderful girls I have had the privilege of being with from me inflicting such a fate on them. I would never want to cause pain like that for someone. one day I will be ready for the great leap into the forever unknown. I am sure. But not yet. my heart is too much the adventurer still. always falling in love. I will know when it is time.

Isn't it curious though I think that in times like that it isn't so much the missing of the other person that strikes us so deeply as it is the raw feelings of abandonment? For once a person does that to you, you don't really want to be with them anyway. But you just cannot get over the feeling of being hurt by their callous betrayal of what you considered so sacred. And yet, we are all guilty of this betrayal of another at one time or another in our lives. No one is innocent. No is to blame.



Writing ‘Song for Juno’ right now, for Juliet’s six year old daughter. I first made note to write that song for her and for the upcoming Girls album back in December of last year. it took me ten months to find it in my head, from out in the ethers. I never mind waiting for a song to come. Write down the title and eventually the song will come...

Current read: Meditation, by Sir Thomas More.


Oct 7th, 2005
I'm on a train right now going to a lake house in the middle of the woods in Connecticut. I love New York and the northeast because of trains and how easy it is to get everywhere. And I just love trains.



Britney emails me a bit deeper... she starts off with a Fishy quote from the Transcendence Diaries that she finds in an article on the Internet. I remember writing it. an epitaph of sorts I would say...

Hi Fishy,
You wrote this --
"Still finding myself obsessed with a quiet secret subtle and almost
constant gnawing at my insides about the unbearable sadness of how
impermanent everything is. Our lifetimes are short here. I remind
myself that it is up to me to find meaning while I am here. I try to
live my life to its fullest and even then I cannot shake the deep
underlying knowing that they are all just moments lived and then soon
forgotten. Where is the meaning in that?"

she tells me:
“But seriously, this sums up my sense of sadness and emptiness. i long for moments that have passed yesterday. it hurts, i long for them so bad. yet the new moments are just as good. and as soon as they pass, i
long for those as well. did you know that i wrote my thesis on the
issue of religion and death? it was called "girl meets death: a
theological memoir." when i was in the 4th grade a good friend of
mine died from leukemia. it fucking killed me. i was so young, but
totally hung up on dying, getting old, and even worse, waiting for my
parents to just rot while i had to sit there and watch. or being
constantly and chronically paranoid about one of them dying in some
freak accident....i would sit at my window and stare out into the
dark, sky-scrapper filled sky and just kill myself over thinking about
my physical end. HOW WILL I NOT BE HERE? i would touch myself. this
is me. okay, i am here. but what the fuck? how can i just be shut
off, put in the ground, never to see, to touch, to experience again?
it was so bitter, so unbearably sad, so strange.

what i'm trying to say is that it seems like you have a lot of hang
ups with death, as well....at least, i sense that in this quotation i
came across.

that's why the death of our family friend hit me so hard. it's just a
huge encompassing issue in my life. and it's like, i want to believe
in something greater, another life, a larger life, a bigger purpose.
and i do...but i totally don't. ya know? it's like, so weird because
when i got to be a freshman in college i thought i was going to major
in film (YEAH RIGHT, in retrospect). but by chance, i didn't sign up
for enough classes so on a whim i signed up for this religion class
called "charisma and religious authority." that class and that
professor changed my life. after taking that class i went through a
major depression/revelation/epiphany, and it had to do with sensing
that God (or whatever or whoever), while i had been pushing him/her
away, was actually right in the very essence of who i am. right in my
soul, very deep. and actually it was that presence which, in
actuality, made me me, perhaps my largest characteristic or something.
and when i came to understand these feelings i totally freaked out.
i felt so alone and confused. my best friend, liese, when i told her
all of this was like, 'Britney, i've known that all along." that
was comforting. but the most comforting was when i called my brother
and sobbed for hours to him describing all of these crazy revelations,
which i knew, would force me to face a much more difficult, yet
fulfilling life. and then he began crying because he had felt this
way his entire life and never could talk to anyone about it because it
started too young and no one understood what the hell he was speaking
of. so we formed a bond that night that was stronger than any other i
had made at that point in my life. we were tied together by these
feelings, and had one another to turn to forever. and that was
comfort. and of course we had our parents who are wonderful and
understand everything, my dad actually recalls almost the exact same
occurance when he was a boy. it was funny because up until that point
everyone always knew i was pushing something big away from me, not
letting it shine through, but i was in denial. and that one religion
class changed everything for me. yet now i am left feeling similarly
confused about what i believe and how i want to go about my religious,
or spiritual life.

anyway Fishy your sentiment above really hit a chord in me and i suppose i just felt i needed to share...

love ya,
Britney”



I wrote her back and told her that's why I think we have a the bond that we do. because on the surface there is just this goofy exuberance we share about life, but underneath I think there is this knowing... the impermanence of it all.


The whole theme was accented and defined further today by being at cliffy cat’s house and the events that went around me. he is getting divorced. just divorce itself, the whole way that one minute we can be in this whole family unit vibe and be taking all that stuff so seriously and then in the next minute its all just over. Now cliffy cat is depressed because his kids are going to college and the wife is moving to Oregon which means that the kids will be making their new home in Oregon probably. He's just fucking devastated, feeling as though he just wasted the last twenty years of his life.... what was all that hard work for? yes I know this one well.... this is the challenge we are given to learn to love unconditionally... to rise above our humanity.... and besides that now he has Boo Boo Kitty, so of course he could always make a few more babies with her if he wanted to, so really, he's a lucky son of a b. but yes the impermanence of things... it can be devastating...


He makes a huge income. Huge by most peoples standards. Prob pulls in two hundred a year. But now they have to maintain two households on one income that they were normally used to maintaining only one household on. that's divorce. One of the many things that sucks about it. so their vacation house here on the lake, probably has a mortgage of seven or eight grand a month, he has to sell. And he's devastated. And they're going around the house putting all this stuff in boxes to give away to goodwill. To give away. things they purchased and had in their home... and I'm thinking wow things really are impermanent. Its all just sand in a fucking hourglass isn't it.

What's weirder is that later in the day we went to this antique store and they were thinking of buying some things. and I comment, yeah lets buy some more stuff so we can add it to the goodwill box to give away when we get home. you know, it makes no sense. Buying and selling stuff. as I made my way around the antique store I saw all this stuff and realized I felt no need at all to buy anything. Besides the fact that I think I own just about everything a person could ever want already, I was also taken by the fact that all this stuff is stuff that belonged to people who are now dead. This stuff is still sitting here, but they are long gone, never to be heard from again. how utterly fucking depressing. What could I want? And why I would want anything? At this point I just feel that stuff is just weighing me down. I think I came to this understanding that its all just about me and the world now. building up my self, my soul, and my creative output and doing my best to help and contribute to the world, rather than concern myself with collecting things....

There was this moment when I chanced upon some lady’s diary from 1942. she had written in it once a week for five years. but all the entries were very boring or I would have purchased it. things like. “woke up at 8:15 today. made breakfast. Did dishes. Was through by 10:30.” Really inane day to day notations. Made me sad. Wow. so that's somebody’s life. day after miserable day of this for five years.



Dear Britney,
About what you write though, just let me say this and get to the effing shower! but I think this will help tons. At twenty-three years old I remember distinctly being in a place called 'totally confused spiritually/personally/emotionally' still. really studying a lot and keep trying to OPEN UP. by twenty-five it was way better -- that is when I recorded the acoustic in New York CD by the way -- which is totally soft and acoustic and spiritual. By thirty, I really hit my stride. I mean, at thirty all of a sudden it just felt like the chains of all of that came off and I became comfortable in my skin and truly happy to be me... and quite confident in my place in the world....

The realization that you have, that we all have, and that we share... that whole trip, yeah, its always there... and its just something that we have to deal with. But while dealing with it, it makes us so much better people as we take it and use it to live life to the absolute fullest! Yes?

PS -- that is why your fathers sermons kick ass and appeal to people such as myself who totally think they are smart as shit and already know it all. because he really UNDERSTANDS AND FEELS THE SAME THING as you pointed out below.


More later gator.
Love Fishy



I think it comes down to what in college my friends and I used to
describe as the difference between those who know and those who don't know. the people who know, know that they don't know shit. and the ones who don't know, are the ones who think they know. and that's it in a nutshell.

the people who know, understand their sadness, the human sadness. they find ways to deal with it healthily and productively. They make the most of our short lives here. the ones who think they know but don't because they don't realize that we don't know, live in this kind of dream world. they drink, they indulge in sports and TV and trying to keep up with the Joneses because they can’t quite get a handle on that sadness that lurks underneath it all. the human condition. The never spoken about invisible not-knowing of it all... so they fill their minds with things that they think they know. things like tabloids, and religious dogma and fake history and patriotism of whatever country they happened to be born into... Jesus was born to a virgin and George Washington couldn’t tell a lie and slavery was o.k. because it was way back then and the native Americans are o.k. with the fact that we killed them all – in fact they celebrate thanksgiving in order to commemorate the event -- and lee Harvey Oswald killed Kennedy and all that other weird stuff. they swear that if you are saved or born again that all is well, and they can tell you who pitches for the Boston red sox each year and all that and they think that's important.


Little T the 12 year old kid who lives upstairs from me is already starting to notice the differences between himself and the other kids. He tells me the other day that bigger kids are picking on him and that ‘all the kids at school think I'm a geek. They think I'm weird because all they wanna talk about is stupid stuff and when I want to talk about deep stuff they make fun of me.” its no wonder his best friend is over thirty. this is a kid who by age twelve has already written about forty songs. So he's obviously different, above the rest. I tell him look man, there's not a lot I can do to help you fit in. I think once you play your first talent show this year that kids will start digging you when they see how talented you are. but you can’t force yourself to be stupid or average. You are who you are. you can either fake being one of them to fit in, which won't work because people see through that, or you can just accept that you’re different and be yourself. Be an outsider. At your age everyone just goes along with everything, tries their best to be cool and fit in. and that sucks if you're a deep thinker. But by the time you hit college you will start to find more people who think like you do. “holy shit man! I'm in the seventh grade! College is seven years away Fishy!” I know man. what can I tell you. that's just the way it is. I can’t lie to you. you think junior high is bad. Wait till high school. Then it gets worse. Its all about sports and all that. everyone walking around in this big pretense, afraid to be themselves... then you'll really feel like an outsider. But thank God you play the guitar. That was my saving grace. That's what saved my ass.

but hey I'll tell you one thing we can do, we can get you some boxing classes and at least that way the bigger kids won't pick on you. so he and I are going to take some boxing classes together. he asked me what I did to stop the bigger kids from picking on me and I relayed to him the story of the Mez. This kid who picked on me everyday at the beginning of freshman year. in drama class we got into a fight because I was sick of it. and I managed to pick him up around my back and slam him down on the ground going straight backwards onto the classroom floor. I broke his collar bone and got suspended for a week. he walked around the halls in a cast for two months. that was enough to assure that no more kids would pick on me anymore through high school. So I told him that yeah at heart we were lovers not fighters for sure. But you need something like that to set you apart or yeah at your size, high school could end up being pretty brutal. You need to show the kids that yeah you may be a deep thinking geek but you are no pussy. You may have to bust a head or two as a message to these bigger kids T. he just looked at me with his head in his hands like ‘oh man, I am doomed.’



-------------------------------------





At the lake house up in Connecticut with boo and cliffy cat. Sitting by the fire drinking very peaty tasting taliskar scotch and playing guitars and singing songs. Playing some Beatles songs. Comparing the difference between George and John’s and Paul’s songwriting. Georges complicated chord patterns always so distinguishable. And yet Paul just as intricate and complex with yesterday or here and there and everywhere. and then John will throw in a sexy Sadie or I am the walrus. You know they all just had it. also talking about how John and Paul immediately started groups with their wives whereas George didn't; because they were so used to being in that partnership thing with their music.


Notes Real quick: eBay has changed everything. to buy or sell anything, you go to eBay. Cliffy cat is selling this big beautiful five thousand square foot mansion of a house and he's sold just about everything in it including furniture bikes boats pool table etc on eBay already. Every musician I know hasn’t bought anything new or at a store in years. for me its been since ‘97. not only do we like the money saving aspect of it. you also like the variety aspect of it because you can choose between so many guitars and end up with anything you could possibly. Also you can buy OLD USED guitars on eBay, which are so much more preferable to new ones. And then there's just the cool factor in buying and selling things on eBay. The other day I bought the entire gong show collection on DVD, watched it and laughed my ass off for a few days and turned around and sold it for the same price I paid to someone else three days later.

For cds and books its all about Amazon. You buy them there used for half the price. you turn around and sell them when you're done with them.

For DVDs movies documentaries or anything from TV from the last fifty years that you want to watch, its all about netflix. You order it and just throw it in your queue. And everyday a new DVD or two shows up. if you love it and want to own it, you can keep it for twenty bucks, or you can head to Amazon and usually find it cheaper to buy there used from somebody.

These are the great things about the new technology. The bad part is of course is that as an artist as soon as you release a new CD, you'll see ten of them pop up on Amazon and eBay for half the retail price and you don't get paid for those. Not ever. And a year into its release, there're fifty of them up there, and you don't get paid for those either. that's the bad part.


Talking about the new wave of strange weather. we are experiencing. Warmest fall ever up here, indeed all over the country. except of course in parts where they are experiencing the coldest weather ever. Everything is a bit backwards right now. global warming has turned out to actually be a reality. Increased hurricanes just another one of the many symptoms of this new scene. How it is affecting real estate with people now thinking twice before buying coastal property.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

It is so easy to fall in love isn't it?

Oct 6th
It is so easy to fall in love isn't it?

Sdawg’s name has now officially changed to Britney, because she looks like the other Britney if you took away all the makeup, wannabe cool clothes, red state mentality, low-breeding, shallow wanton desperate for attention smuttiness and idiocy. And if she could sing – because Sdawg/now-Britney can sing like nothing you’ve ever heard. Picture Britney the one you know without all of those prior stated qualities that she is so famous for, and picture her in a short dress, a sunflower apron over it, baking blueberry muffins, while whistling or singing, and you have a pretty good idea of the Sdawg/now-Britney that I speak of, know, and love....

An insane night! But first let me fill you in on the pre-night:

First off, fan mail is getting overwhelming, nuts, and crazy. something in the stars perhaps. but the strangest requests. Naked pictures in the mail. Crazy email requests and solicitations as if everyone knows you, is your close personal friend. A barrage that is getting truly un-handleable.

Zeke and Jodiach flew into town today for zekes bday. we all hooked up. Sandina was there as well – who is actually TWO people – the two hottest girls you have ever seen but who happen to be married to each other. Good friends of ours and I think the world of them. and of course wish they weren't gay sometimes so I could make mad passionate love to each of them. we had some good fun quiet time the five of us. Great times tonight talking about the Miami music scene and catching up. they filled me in on everyone down there and what's been going on. zeke’s doing some work with Jon Secada and Lenny but other than that there isn't a lot going on down there right now. Reggeaton is big there now. that's about it. its not like the old days when there was this great rock music scene. Which is one of the many reasons why I bailed and came here. No where better than here right now.

Jodiach tells me that she now understands my song Vicodin. Before she used to think it was so weird that someone would write a song about a pill. But then she had surgery and she had to take vicodin and she felt happier than she ever felt in her life. ‘gosh I told Zeke, if everyone could just be on vicodin all the time the world would be such a happy place... now I understand why Fishy wrote that song...’ my sentiments exactly...

So anyway, I tell them to tell everyone hello down there, and if anyone asks so what's Fishy doing right now? just tell them that Fishy has lost his mind, that I'm hitting all these karaoke clubs every night with this 23 year old girl; and they will totally freak out and think I'm insane. Is he on tour? what about the band’s new album? How is his TV show going? ‘uh... well from what we can tell, he's just totally into karaoke now. He's abandoned his career for karaoke now. Look for his new karaoke tour coming to a town near you soon!’ we laugh our asses off. The thing is that everyone would believe that without batting an eyelid.



O.k. so anyway it is true, after I separate from the group I meet up with Sdawg/now-Britney to hit some karaoke club dive bar on the Upper East Side. It is well past 1am in the morning. We’re in the cab and we are laughing our asses off that we are just starting our evening at well past 1am to hit these stupid karaoke bars. But we are addicted.

We go to the song books and find a bunch of songs and fill in the little sheets and give them to the guy, pissed that there is no Lou reed, no velvet underground, no “somewhere in my youth or childhood, from sound of music’ no ‘some enchanted evening.’ this is a small place. only modern shit pedestrian songs. After that is over, we start drinking, putting on a good buzz while we wait our turn, and listening to the other people up there doing their thing. of course its now past 2am and everyone in there is totally drunk and I mean, who the hell is in a bar at 2am on a weeknight anyway. say no more.

Now bear in mind, Brit is a professional singer. her parents are both singers, majoring in music, her mother a professional singer, being raised singing from the day she was born – her voice is awesome. And me, well, the older I get, the more I realize that I can actually sing a bit. Whether I sing well or not, I'll never know – I never thought I did, but now and then I think I sound alright; but regardless, at this point, I can safely call myself a professional singer, no matter how good or bad I may sound . So we sit in these bars late at night and we wait our turn and we keep drinking waiting for our turn and as the night wears on we get slightly hammered.... good times... And we laugh and goof off because its just so not our scene that its ridiculous. But we cannot help going. because we love to sing.

We go up on stage when it is our turn and we sing Sorrow by bowie and it is so exhilarating, and the whole place quiets down to where you can hear a pin drop and everyone in the bar looks up on the stage to see what the hell is going on with their mouths hanging open. Who the hell is that up there?! because you know, we’re not Mr. and Mrs. Smith up there hammered out of our minds yodeling away all out of tune... we’re more like pretending to be Mr. and Mrs. Smith raiding these karaoke bars late at night just because we love to fucking sing so much more than anything else. (If there is one thing that I have been negatively accused of in the fucking Nazi-press it has been having a similar voice to Dave’s so me singing Bowie is totally cheating I know. But I can’t help it. its so addictive to sing other people’s songs.)

So we go up and do our thing, but you have to picture this. we sit there and face each other, not the audience or other patrons, and we sing to each other and the whole time we are talking to each other between verses. Sing a verse, “o.k. now you,” sing another verse, “o.k. now you take this one...” It’s hilarious. And we get into it physically and emotionally as anyone else up there does.

So then she does an amazing Crazy by that country singer patsy Cline and all these guys are swooning all over her. I mean, seriously, they are sitting on the stage at her feet, and on the floor of the bar staring up at her holding on her every word... she’s an angel to these guys or something. they are swooning. it really was crazy.

Then we go for Bowie’s Heroes together, which I totally nail but she gets a bit nervous. So the whole time we are talking to each other over the mics, we sing a verse, ‘o.k. now you take this one,’ ‘no I'm too nervous. You do it.’ I sing the next verse, ‘o.k. c'mon try it,’ ‘no, I can’t, you do it.’ ‘no, c'mon give it a try,’ sing another verse.... on and on like that. sounded awesome though. LOVE that song. really I just love to sing any song. love singing.

Right now we are totally dueting everything mostly because I am new at this and get nervous.... but this time she got nervous. Silly and funny right? karaoke can be intensely competitive at times one notices. If you're a singer and you're just moonlighting because it’s the middle of the night and you're getting your rocks off, then who the fuck cares – it’s a goof, but you can tell that some of those people are day-jobbers who at heart are frustrated singers who are really good and they take the shit really seriously because karaoke is all they have and that's a strange thing, but you can feel it from some of them. Some of the talent is really really good.

So anyway, while I'm singing a little all the way by Sinatra – but I'm totally copping an Ed Hale style, mixed in with a little Bono and Sinatra all at the same time so it sounds cool as shit, some middle-aged geezer is totally hitting on Britney; he's got his hands all over her. So I jump down and tell him to bog off. I'm like, ‘what is she your girlfriend or something?’ and he's like ‘no.’ and so I'm like, ‘yeah, I didn't think so. so get the fuck away’ But he just drunkenly slurs some rude comment. Out of the blue this rage swells in me, so I take this glass of Stella and slam him over the head with it. Just knock him out cold! He falls to the floor out cold. We of course get attacked by the bar staff and have to run out of there laughing our asses off. Won't be going in there for a few I would imagine.

I can’t believe how guys just hit on girls like that. its crazy. he had his hands all over her. she tells me that she gets that all day everyday from so many guys. I couldn’t imagine what that must be like. I also couldn’t imagine being her boyfriend. I would constantly be getting my ass kicked or kicking someone's ass if she was always getting hit on like that. it would be maddening. Of course I told her last night, she could discreate it at anytime if she wanted to. after all it is she show is creating it. putting it out there. Brit’s 23 years old, so at that age, who the hell cares. Do whatever you want to. just live the life and enjoy the hell out of it.




What is up with this country and its current heroes? This is the current conversation we shared this evening amongst many groups of different friends as the night wore on. on the tips of everyone’s tongue right now.

Did anyone hear the comment william bennet made? He said something to the effect that we could lower crime in America by aborting all the black babies coming into the world. What a fucking crazy lunatic bigoted asshole. And he's considered a heroic voice in the republican party.

Bush, rice, Cheney, Rumsfeld, rove, Paris Hilton jessica simpson Britney spears.... what a fucking crazy place our country is in right now... these are the heroes of the day. sad and pathetic and scary. But the question is begged, has it ever been any different? yes, that is the question.


Oct 5th
Busy day. then a wine tasting with polar bear and Sdawg in the evening. And then a few songs into a concert of the band Blow up Hollywood, whom I really like. Then off to a karaoke bar with Sdawg who is all of 23 years old but I totally love her. I love our connection. She has a totally easy vibe about her. very real. And sweet. and down to earth. And no bullshit. someone came up to her tonight and asked her in a very typical New York way, ‘is that Marc Jacobs you're wearing?” and she's like, “no, its salvation army. Three bucks!” and that's her in a nutshell. this you have to love. Part of her charm is that she's this total space cadet hipster chick who walks around in a nun outfit when she feels like it, but she has this other side too, this darker depressive side that is entirely expected for that age and for someone who hasn’t discovered the niche they're heading into yet. she's just living the life right now. we sang a duet of don't let me down by the Beatles which was awesome. I am totally hooked on karaoke right now since our band hasn’t played a show in about a fucking year! As soon as I get back from the weekend we are going to go full on karaoking for days at a time till she leaves for India. I hate that she is leaving for India for a year. but all seasons have their reason. Unless you live in Florida of course and there are no seasons. Then what is the reason for that?

I will certainly miss her though. I love all the girls I hang out with. But my connection with her is the easiest. Right now I'm seeing girls from age 23 to 46 and that's an amazing thing. that's something that you dream of in high school and college. no way you could experience that if you were married. So that's a great thing. part of the real benefit of holding out on the old marriage thing. living the life. like I always say, the only drag about getting married is that its forever. at least in its present incarnation. So that's something you really have to always try to remember. Hold off for as long as you can till you get it all out of your system. or until something comes along that just knocks you to the ground. Fucking a. what a strange night though. To go from this yuppie wine tasting into a rock concert into a total dive bar singing karaoke with all these crazy drunk Latino locals...


REMEMBER. A WIZARD STAYS WIDENED BACK. BREATHES. SMILES. OBSERVES. FEELS.
‘HHHHMMM, ISN'T THIS INTERESTING?’ UNCONDITTIONAL. WITHOUT EXPECTATION.
MAKES DECISIONS YES. DECISEIVLY.
BUT NOT HASTILY.
ONLY ACTS FROM LOVE.
NEVER FROM FEAR OR ANGER.
SOMETIMES A WIZARD MAY ASK, ‘HHHMMMM, NOW WHAT DO I WANT TO CREATE?’


Oct 4th
Portuguese lesson tonight with Manuela. One of my favorite restaurants in the city. (who thought of that spelling and ass-backwards pronunciation?! Totally retarded. Is it no wonder that everyone naturally spells that word ‘restaraunt?’ since that's the way its pronounced. the word Wednesday is the same thing. just totally effing retarded. And in our schools here in retardville the teachers try to come up with some stupid excuse about the words derivation or etymology to explain why the whole country is pronouncing these words the wrong way. Give me a break. Either spell it the way it sounds or pronounce it the way it is spelled. Period. Enough with your bullshit. I remember the day the exact day our teacher tried telling us why Wednesday was spelled was spelled wrong and why we should just accept it. I thought it was bullshit then. and I think its bullshit now.

O.k. enough. But one day mark my words, I am going to hire a small staff to go into a lab for a few months and rewrite the entire English language so it makes sense. This is a promise.

I made this little poem about how retarded English is: “bluff, rough, scoff, cough, dough, tow, go, toe, plough, plow.”

There is a lot of irony in those ten words the way they are strung together. Just absolutely a retarded language when it comes to spelling and pronunciation. Look at those words! certainly linguists have already attempted to tackle English and turn it around... will research.)

O.k. so anyway I'm at this great Italian restaurant eating radicchio drenched in olive oil with Manuela. And she is drop dead. She doesn’t know it, which makes her even better, I mean just when girls are shy like that, there is nothing more repugnant than a hot girl who knows or thinks she's hot, except a not so hot girl who thinks she's hot. but Manuela is hot, and she's totally shy still and humble and gracious and that's refreshing. We are practicing English and Portuguese together. she is forced to speak to me only in English and I correct her and I am forced to speak only in Portuguese and she corrects me. it’s a brilliant set up. learned a lot. and because we both speak Spanish we can always fall back on that when we need to in order to grab at a word neither of us know in the other’s language. Its great.

Manuela is one of those good girls that you don't meet anymore. Something out of the nineteen-forties. She's been with one guy in her entire life, her ex-husband. amazing. great manners. perfect etiquette. She heard me say fuck once and she asked me in her very heavy broken English Brasilian accent “Fishy, do you say words like this?” almost shocked. In fact, she probably was shocked. And I said “no no. I was just kidding.” I don't think she has any idea who I am. Who Fishy is. I think she just likes hanging out with me, doesn’t know much about me. I think that if she ever read these diaries that she would be truly shocked. Horrified probably. You just don't meet girls like her anymore. A guy like me could destroy a girl like her because she just has no reference points to know how to deal with or relate to who I am or how I act or the things I say.

From this recent experience with the dove I was again reminded how important it is, this evening especially, to be a gentleman and really be careful in your speech and actions not to lead people on. if its not going romantic, you don't play romantic. Period. You be a man. you grow up. you don't play games with people. you are clear from the beginning and you act from that space. from a clean space. don't blur the lines. Some people do it they say out of ignorance. They think they're playing clean and they can’t figure out why people are misunderstanding their messages and getting hurt or mislead by them all the time. they swear they aren't a player, but people keep telling them that they're a player... other people do it just because they're fucking vampires and they don't care about the other. they are just sucking attention or affection for themselves selfishly, whether deliberately or not. Either way, its fucked up. I would say that in the last few years I have gotten really good at being careful about this and not giving the wrong signals if I'm not feeling it. I am proud of this.

I just think that in the end, no matter how many times we say it and think it, and feel it, it still all comes down to ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ if we can master that in this lifetime, we are there. in a nutshell.


New Yorkers are super into sports. You realize that pretty early on. I don't mean people who live in New York. those aren't New Yorkers. I mean New Yorkers. People who grew up here. they like effing love the Yankees. Man its all they ever talk about. totally foreign to me. But its kind of fun too the way it seems to bond them together. all you have to do is mention in passing, ‘how was the game?’ you don't even have to say what game. Everyone knows what game you are talking about. and its instantaneous bonding. That's New York. just a small part of what makes it such a great place to live and breathe.


Last screening: I finally finished the history of the barbarian tribes documentaries. So now I'm watching all the old Gong Shows. Seriously. I bought the whole freaking collection on eBay. I'm a FREAK. I know. but its so absurd and stupid. you really can’t believe that it ever existed. Chuck Barris is a God-clown.

Current spin: keane, again. and Yupi by Hashimoto. Brilliant!!! Buy it.

Monday, October 03, 2005

an intense day

Oct 3rd
An intense day, few days. Great lessons learned. Absolutely raw though. How can you describe the feeling... raw is the only word I can think of. Naked - pulsing – electric.

Take the already unfathomable events with Cleopatra over the last few months, and then the still lingering undercurrent of separation anxiety from Princess Little Tree that seems to simmer in my soul’s very bottom, at the very back of it all, in the back ground. I long for her at times and feel her longing. dance and sing and jump up and down for me my beautiful Persian Princess and ballerina. Smile for me and light up my world one more time in this lifetime before we part yet again forever. But it's over. And that is still there whether we like it or not. Happy with our decision certainly, but still a little saddened by it. Awed by it. Appreciative and very loving and supportive of one another. I remain raw from it still, on the edge of it, but in awe of how we handled it. wizardly. But still human with human feelings.


Something else too, something totally weird.
The dove and I soared over the last few weeks. We had developed a deep, almost spiritual, nearly psychic connection to one another – though I had no idea how much so –over the last eight weeks. we had reached a peak on Saturday. We were in deep collaboration with one another on several different levels and platforms. not just regarding our non-profit work, but as friends, and as artists, and we had a very strange kind of spiritually romantic thing happening as well, as much as we both tried to pretend and convince ourselves that we didn't. It was almost slow motion. Above time. or beyond it.

We poemed each other constantly. Artistically feeding off of one another, off of our passion and dedication to that art and to the art of living life in romance and the dream world that the artist inhabits. It was a daily event. Each of them becoming more and more intense, intimate, and personal. I counted that I had written a total of 15 songs either inspired by the connection, or from poems she had written, in less than a month, from the silly and sappy to the sublime. That was a completely unheralded experience for me. possibly the most intense creative surge I had experienced since the college days when all I did was sit around and get high and write songs and play local shows at night.

But back then I was just a kid, dabbling, learning, honing my skills; still experimenting, a lot of one-offs and throw-aways. These days when I write a song, more than most end up being recordable or releasable, ready to go right onto an album. I've learned to distinguish now at least for the time being between the great and the mundane dabble and never give much attention to those toss-offs. The creativity was like bam bam bam. I could pick up the guitar, take a comment she made on the phone in passing or an email or a poem and just run with it and turn it into a finished song by day’s or night’s end. it was intoxicating and I was riding high from it. as a songwriter I was amazed how on fire I was from our connection.

What's more, she had given me a gift that I never thought even possible. Poetry. Had inspired and encouraged me to study poetry, interpret it, enjoy it, lavish in it, attempt it myself, and find my own poetic voice. Again, I found myself on fire from the experience. Climbing the ladder of learning quickly and enjoying experimenting with finding my voice.

By Saturday we peak in this strange thing that had been steadily escalating for weeks, brought on by madness, dreaminess, and the mixed messages of the oracle. We connect, bond, become one in spirit through this collaboration. We were as one mind. This was a very intellectual thing. we referred to it as a sort of a very fast paced tennis match of the wits that we played together. She would fire off a poem to me in the morning – “listen to this.” and I would shoot one back by afternoon and then she would send a reply poem that night. During this whole time I was also shooting out songs about various aspects of our connection like a factory worker with a gun to his head. Pumping them out as quickly as I had time to. sometimes one per day. every day. Great fucking magnificent songs. Awesome. For me there is no priority more important nor intoxicating than birthing new songs into the world. And this experience was inspiring me to do so more than any other in recent memory.

It went on and on like this for weeks, months. Bam bam bam! Back and forth. We were occupying the same space in another world through this worm hole we had slipped through. But all platonic, very much unspoken, fascinating, inspiring, not physical. And then we are off for the day each going our separate ways. An incredible concert on Saturday as noted earlier. And then to bed by about 1 or 2am.

At some point early in my sleep, I am aware that I am in this uncomfortable sort of half-sleep half-awake state tossing and turning in an uncompromising agony. For four hours I tossed and turned in this agonizing emotional and mental pain unable to fall fully asleep. The feeling was excruciating. I was keenly aware of this understanding that at that moment in time the dove’s heart had left me/us and was with another. I had no idea how close I had become to the dove in spirit. It was as if I could feel her. I mean, as if I was feeling seeing hearing what she was, and I myself was having an emotional reaction to it.

For the next twelve hours I was aware of every breath, every word spoken, every kiss, hug, and touch that she was sharing with this other being that I could feel had suddenly entered our picture. I could feel her breathing for god’s sake. Incredible. There was no question of what I was feeling. I did not question it. I just knew it. and I knew that she knew that I knew it.

By 5am I decided to end the drama, give up on sleeping, and just get up and sit there and breathe and meditate on what was happening. I went into a deep meditation with my own personal God-concept and higher self about the matter. There was no bitterness. Suffering yes. But no resentment. More than anything I was curious. The dove and I had been very clear with one another that we intended to keep our relationship platonic, in the spiritual realm only. But I was not prepared for this intense feeling of dread, loss, or dispossession from her exploration with another in the physical realm. I was firmly aware that she and I both had the right to do whatever we wanted to with whomever we wanted. But it did not make the feelings any less intense or crushing. I was still dating other girls, and assumed she did the same, but the dove occupied almost all of my attention. So this experience came at me like a two by four to the back of the head.

I just sat there alone and quiet and meditated as the sun rose and darkness became light outside my window. Didn't speak much. Just listened. The messages were profound and simple. The method was simple. I was to hear a message, repeat it aloud, and then ponder it, and if I had to, repeat it several times so I could get the learning and the action if any. I did this until about 10am. Many many messages. Mainly about building discipline and exercising my will in order to be more willful. Was it not a lack of will that got me into this strange predicament? Just letting it all go and being in the moment as always... I was instructed to take the whole thing and feel it, let it go, let it out, and label it. Learn the lessons. Not hold onto any of it. Breathe through it. And continue to listen to and then repeat aloud and then take in the lessons learned from the experience. I was amazed by the whole thing.

I then went to church and had a fantastic experience as I already wrote about, accented by this earlier experience for the last four or so hours. The dove did not contact me. I knew that if she did not contact me on Sunday that the visions of my experience were accurate. For I had turned into the first and last call of the day by that point. So I knew. And I knew that she knew that I knew. and I knew that she was concerned about it, but I didn't want her to be. what I didn't know was if she felt that it was o.k. It was important to me to get across to her that it was o.k. I knew that she felt me feel the whole thing, and I knew that she felt concerned about that and felt my pain from it, (just as I go in and out of feeling Princess Little Tree’s pain over my experiences with girls and she feels my pain of her past experiences with men...) but I didn't know if the dove knew that I was feeling that it was o.k. Pain yes. But a bad thing not.

I didn't want her to feel bad about it. our lines were drawn. They were clear. we were clear about where we were. It wasn't like we were fooling around or anything. that's what was so surprising about the whole thing. I'm not even into kissing girls that I date unless they are the one. And to be sure she was clear with me too. what we were experiencing with one another was something else, way out there. For me, I'll date as much as I can because its fun. I love girls. I love beauty. but for me, now, the line is drawn there. I'll date a girl or a series of them on and off for six months and still not even kiss them if I don't feel like she's the one or if I'm the one for her. too much trouble. That's just my own personal commitment. Building honor. Keeping the future sacred. Or better put, projecting oneself into the future so it is the present, honoring that, keeping it sacred, and realizing that there are times when it is important to remember that we are now living in the past of a future-present and it is important now to keep sacred the past of that future- present just as it is to keep sacred the present moment. So we did not have attention on that aspect of relationship. But unwittingly we somehow had created this whole other thing out there in the ethers... I just had no idea how close we had become in spirit. Feeling someone fool around with someone else is a weird thing.

Today we spoke about it. A very open gracious dialogue. I told her point blank what I had experienced and she confirmed the accuracy of the whole thing, and neither of us could believe how accurate it was right down to the very times that everything had occurred. I didn't even have to ask ‘were you with some other guy?’ I just said something like ‘you were with some other guy.’ and we both just nodded in silence over the phone, in the knowing. Even the times were accurate of everything. Crazy. It was some kind of psychic connection that we had opened and there was no way we were going to be comfortable as long as we kept this worm-holed door open up there/out there in our spirits’ consciousness. She didn't want to agree because we get so much from our collaboration, but we agreed that we didn't want either of us to be in pain. and besides, there was no way we were going to create the space, or time even, to be with other people that we really wanted to be with, to create our dream lovers, if we were carrying on in this other way. I told her we needed to close the door for now. Not only that, we then needed to weather-strip the damn door and then caulk and seal all the edges of it and forget about it. The worm-hole, the black hole, needs to close. And so it was. we closed the door. She flew down. I flew down. Back on solid ground.

Uncanny and unbelievable. That's all I can say. To be so close to someone in spirit that you can feel them fooling around with someone else. Its as if you can feel them breathe. You can feel when they are in pain or in joy. Something I had experienced before, once before from this side and once before from the other side. But in this very mundane and materialistic world that we live in it is easy to forget that these psychic connections can develop between people. that it is indeed a very real thing. it transcends the physical entirely. it is not mental. But something akin to an emotional reaction to something you feel in the spiritual plane. Fascinating.

I feel cleaned from the whole thing. I don't know, like some sort of cleansing or rebirthing. Learning discipline. Exercising and building the will. becoming more real. Letting the dove fly free out of this unconditional love, similar to the way that Princess Little Tree let me go because she loved me. It is all very beautiful. I am in awe of my life right now.


--------------------------------------------




Today these pictures arrive in the mail from my first real girlfriend from freshman year of high school, The Vixen – yes that The Vixen, the one from the song – and I am overcome by this rush of intense emotion while looking at the pictures. She was the one back in high school. The first of many o.k., but she was the one who got away, literally. Moving to Ohio right when we were in the thick of it. first real making out sessions and all. I could have watched her carry her books through the hallways forever. what a sexy little kitten she was. my first real girlfriend. The Vixen is after all now older and it is a shocking experience. On the outside of the envelope she had written “take a deep breath before you open Mr. Ambassador – you are about to become XX years older.” I just had no idea that we were getting older. But seeing the pictures of her allowed me a window to my own image that I had never allowed myself when looking at myself in the mirror. Wow. heavy. Very heavy for me. fucking just totally heavy.

I’m looking at the pictures and I'm thinking, she is so beautiful still, but my God we really do get older don't we? Because my last image of The Vixen is this little fifteen year old that I used to spend hours making out with after school. And now she's older and it was like Bam! Right in my face. Am I older now and just don't see it? I'm talking to polar bear at HQ for a few minutes about it. ‘we really are getting old aren't we. This is how its going to happen. before we know it we’re thirty, then we’re forty, then we’re fifty, then sixty and before you know it we’re fucking old. My God. this is really fucking happening. we are aging and there is nothing we can do about it.

I decided to walk the city. I walk the parks. I walk and I walk and I walk. I am walking around raw, naked, burned, fazed out, numb from too much feeling from the last three days, a glaze in my eye... I feel like John Cusack in one of his weird gen-x movies from the nineties... the lone gen-x’er walking the city streets in the middle of the movie when the sad song is playing... confused raw vulnerable burning shocked amazed. Where are we? Who are we? Are we really growing older? My thoughts racing. My God. we are growing older. It is slow but it is undeniable and unmistakable and inevitable. The horror revealed right before my eyes with a picture of an old flame standing there looking so pretty but older with her husband and three children. Was she the one? did I fuck that up? Was I supposed to chase her all the way to Ohio at my tender age of fifteen and tell her I wanted to marry her? God I would have had to take a bus. I didn't even drive yet! The audience laughs. And me still roaming around the earth like a nomad living day to day for the exotic adventure and various intoxicants of a life well lived and ravaged and fully taken advantage of. O.k. well that part has been great, lets face it, we’ve lost nothing by holding out on marriage, that's for sure. But seeing her picture there made me think....

And the dove? Wow. what kind of a trip was that? What the hell was that? where did it come from? who was she? Why did it get so intense? Have we sealed the trap door? What the hell was that about?

My thoughts return to Little Tree. Dance for me sing for me smile for me one more time. I picture her in my mind dancing in a puddle of water and giggling like a little girl.... it is Easter. My heart is singing from her image....

But I come back to reality quickly. I am stinging. Stung. Undone. I am shaken. Quaked. Baked. Taken. Laid to waste. Exhausted from feeling. And what about that girl in church with that long perfect body and grace and elegance and that silky-shiny long dark brown hair who was sitting just a few feet in front of me. How do I talk to her? Is it money is it fame? Is it will? is it discipline? Is it confidence? What do I need to do to win her heart? How do you even approach a girl like that? How much richer more famous popular happier successful do you have to be? Who am I now? Will I ever get the girl? How does the movie end?

I kept reminding myself, “This is life. I am living life. This is what living life is... this is the middle of the movie. You are playing the lead role, man that's cool. You are the character who started off on top of the world kicking his heels and dancing in the streets and singing at the top of his lungs in the opening credits, who has now in the last hour or so been delivered a series of shockers and surprises. You are now walking the city streets in the bright sunlight of a beautiful New York City day in shock, experiencing the life that we all experience here. Being human. The envy of the angels. The sad song is about to end and you will go back to your day to day. Breathe. The movie is not over yet. we still have at least another hour to go. this will be a happy ending movie. You're a gen-x’er after all. This is a gen-x movie. This is going to be a happy ending fucking movie Fishy. You'll see.”



Oct 2nd
Went to an incredible concert last night. Tereso came up from Miami to play five shows in two days. Infinito is playing drums with them right now. they were awesome. I will see them again tonight and meet with them to see what I can do to help them with the record company. I would love to be of assistance. They just humbly rocked their asses off and won the crowd over to near exhilaration and this was in a real shit hole of a bar where they couldn’t even fit on stage. Imagine what they could do on a real stage. I love the idea of owning the record label. Just not sure if there is any money to be had in it. Its running at about a half a million dollar loss right now. if one act breaks big, I would theoretically get all that back and more. But if no act ever breaks, then I continue to live with that loss and more as the years continue to pass.

The biggest challenge now to making money with a record label is not in the recording or manufacturing or releasing of a CD or album. Anyone can do it. I would have no problem signing every artist I dig and releasing their CDs for them. the challenge is in all the money a label has to spend to get the music out to the people, and then to get the people to want to actually spend money on it. People, all of us, I included, have no problem spending 5 bucks for a cup of Starbucks or a jamba juice, or twenty to forty bucks for a lunch or dinner. But try to get someone to spend ten to fifteen dollars on a CD and you're in for a tremendous challenge. Just look at any of the starving artists you know struggling to make it week to week. we all know at least one, if not a few. If you know me, then you know one. I've been struggling with it for some fifteen years. Every now and then I get lucky, but for the most part I am still a struggling artist.

[I had and continue to have this realization whenever I see glimpses of the MTV music awards and realize that these are the artists that the majority of the mainstream masses consider current artists on the scene, when real music lovers don't even own or buy most of this music – there are exceptions of course, such as Dave Matthews or beck or coldplay – but the real great music being made out there and collected and talked about passionately by hard core music fans is totally unheard of by the majority of people. totally unrecognizable names except to a few passionate few. This is the great contradiction of the music business today. The good stuff, the challenging and stimulating and brilliant and experimental stuff is underground because it’s so under funded and the real pedestrian and predictable stuff is out on top.]

Even the once-big names out there, people like Donovan or KC or genesis or pat benatar or styx and on and on -- you know the ones – there are many more artists who were once big who we now haven't heard from in decades than there are artists who were once big who we still hear from all the time... and this isn't because they stopped making music or retired; you think the once awesome teen idol Dion wants to be retired down in Boca Raton doing nothing and NOT be making music? or that Dionne Warwick wanted to be the spokesperson for some psychic hotline? Probably not. It’s because the industry itself just decided to stop paying attention to them or the record buying public just decided to stop buying their product. It would seem to be a terribly frustrating career to enter into. but people still flock into it. who doesn’t know someone in a band or wanting to be in a band. funny stuff.

So the idea for me now of continuing to own a record label and continuing to sign artists that I believe in is something I am still struggling with. The prospect of continuing to spend tens to hundreds of thousands of dollars on these artists who are all totally awesome each in their own right at the hope that one of them will hit big to help pay for the rest of them is quite a daunting challenge. Something I am struggling with to be sure.

But last night as I was in that club and rocking out hard and banging my head hair flying everywhere to this roaring thunder of this Latin rock band Tereso... man I was just so overcome with this desire to grab that music and that image and put everything I had into it and help them out as much as I could. That's the power of rock and roll. That's the power of music. But one has to be smart too. Not every rock band is going to be aerosmith and not every rap artist is going to be p diddy. In fact, those are the exceptions. And that's just the harsh reality of it.

--------------------------------------------------

Still experiencing some kind of a spiritual transformation. A powerful experience where there is this profound understanding and feeling of a God-force entering my life more and more. Connecting with me. Talking to me. Communicating with me. It is uncanny. And it is undeniable. I prayed about it a lot for the last six to nine months and unbelievably it is slowly growing more and more each day, much to my amazement. Last night I tossed and turned all night. A very restless non-sleep for most of the night. By 5:30 am I just decided to stop the madness, get up and sit and write and be in the moment rather than lie there with these crazy thoughts rumbling in my head.

Once up, I sat there and I was overcome by this presence in my heart and this voice in my head -- soft, loving, kind, gentle, peaceful, wise, strong, willful, knowing. Guiding me, giving me advice. It was an epiphany. One of many lately concerning this matter I will admit. But no less astounding or rewarding or surprising or revealing.

Now obviously the biggest concern here as others point out as well is the understanding that people like evangelist Pat Robertson and others, Bush cohort Osama bin laden, al queda and various Muslim terrorist groups, the Israeli military, and even GW bush all claim the same thing... to have this communication with a God-force. That should be cause for alarm for any thinking person because of the dubious actions they take in the world. words are one thing. feelings another. Actions another. One’s convictions and loyalties are blatantly obvious by one’s actions, regardless of what they say. Granted. A tough one. Indeed in a recent monthly newsletter the minister at our church wrote “it is hard to believe that the current administration claims to speak and listen and pray to the same God that we do. That is something I struggle with on a daily basis.” Yes that is something we all struggle with.

But the feeling that I am experiencing is something that is undeniable to me now. But it is not a voice of murder as the others noted above seem to receive from this God-force. But a voice of peace and love and acceptance and tolerance. I wonder where the disconnect is for the others? How does the voice of this God-force get twisted in the mind of others into a thought of murder rather than love and peace?

Studying history madly for the last fifteen years and I have learned as we all do that there have always been those among us, the barbarians, historically called “the leaders or governments or churches of civilization,” who claim to be receiving advice to murder from “God” or from some God-force. Ever since the idea of monotheism or this ‘one God’ concept first came into being in human consciousness with Abraham and the Jewish people, there has been a tendency for those wielding the most power and strength to use this concept for evil. So its no wonder that there are many throughout history who are adamantly opposed to the idea, such as the communists. What good have they ever seen in humankind’s history to give any clue that the idea of God is a good one for us? the answer is unequivocally “none. Absolutely no good.”

From the Jewish people who invented the ‘one God’ concept and the commandment ‘thou shall not kill’ and who then turned around and continued to kill, even going so far as to kill Jesus himself – an insane irony there in that one -- to the roman empire thinly disguised as something they renamed “the catholic church” to the invading Muslims to the Spanish Inquisition to the Crusades to the Russian Tsars to the evil plotting imperialist British Empire to the Pilgrims and European Settlers of the Americas in more recent times, all of the most evil murdering fuck-head bastards throughout human history have always claimed to have direct communication with this “God” and to have a divine right and authority to kill and enslave other people... all in the name of this “God.” So one should be very wary of anyone who claims to be speaking with any God or God force or God concept. Immediately suspect.

So there is inherently a nagging seething bitter conflict there between what is at the heart of religious doctrine and how it is acted upon by those claiming to be its followers. If one is a devout Muslim then one is in shock and horrified by the actions that took place on September 11th in this God’s name. If one is a devout Christian or Jew then one is in shock and horrified at the actions that have taken place to the Afghani and Iraqi people in the name of this other God. (though they are the same God). So that's the conflict. That's the contradiction that puzzles and confounds the hearts and minds of every thinking religious person.

And it is easy to find oneself repelled and repulsed by God, or by any God-concept because of this. History has taught intelligent peaceful loving people to hate this God concept more than anything else because of the atrocities committed in his/her name. I know this. I am deeply aware of it and in touch with it because for many years I loathed the God-concept. And could care less about God. Precisely for these reasons. What was the good in this God-concept with us going to church every Sunday and praying to this God when we were in Vietnam killing millions of people in his name to “fight communism.” Right? I mean, its right there. there is absolutely nothing that a religious person whether Christian Jew or Muslim can say to defend the goodness of God or the God-concept. Because for the most part its just always been used for evil.

And yet, underneath it all.... there is this conflict of how in the face of all of this that there can still be such joy peace love and comfort in this experience known as religious or spiritual conversion. I would dare assert now that I have found it to be the most important and joyful and miraculous experience of my entire life...

This morning while I was in church, I was in deep prayer as always, but this time much lighter, a more elegant prayer, and it was precisely this that I was praying about and dialoguing about with my own personal idea of God. But today I listened more than any other day. Rather than speaking a lot.

God asked me ‘What message do YOU receive from me?’ and I answered, ‘love and peace and acceptance and diplomacy and tolerance.’ And God smiled. ‘So do you understand?’ and my answer was ‘well perhaps... but not really...’ ‘Is that o.k.?’ he asked. ‘yes it is.’ I answered. And then this remarkably simple answer: ‘Fishy, it is not something to understand. For it is beyond understanding. For thousands of years the God-concept has been so convoluted by humankind that there is no way to understand it. You must let go of the desire for UNDERSTANDING and allow the KNOWING. In this there is the understanding.’ And then I smiled.

And I felt lighter and freer then I could almost bear. I felt lifted up and high from it. felt as though I might lift up out of my seat. Tingly, sparkly, elated. In complete contact with this higher power. I dedicated the whole service and indeed this entire day to this wordless knowing. I felt as though the Ambassador had returned. Finally. It has been a long hard road. but somehow I felt as though I was returning to find myself again. my brain has finally been balanced by my heart. I have taken God back, and in return God has taken me back. I believe that is what we know as ‘grace.’

Saturday, October 01, 2005

“well the theory is that the soul is eternal...

Oct 1st
I receive a letter in the mail:
“well the theory is that the soul is eternal and on its path to evolvement sets up all kinds of experiences and contracts to finish with old issues with people life time to life time in order to clear itself of attitudes and filters that are limiting the current life time.
that we carry forward psychological predispositions and emotional and physical residues is well documented in the work of doctors all over the world using these processes to alleviate difficulties in current relationship, illness, fear, and phobia areas of life.
the process of accessing the past is so simple, clear and clean cut once one sees the set up from past experiences that ninety percent of the time their healing is spontaneous.

regression to current life events is also revolutionary in healing unhealed issues. but when one stays stuck in an illness like i have where i can only manage to discreate it for periods and then it pops back in, i recreate it, or stays stuck in this life's traumas, it is very helpful to see the precursors from other life times that would have inclined the soul to recreate it again to learn to deal with it in a more effective way.

often just reviewing a few lives where the events set up the residue for this life's patterns is enough to gift the patient with such a depth of understanding that they have instant resolution with the events and people seen from a higher objective position of lifetimes of injuries that have yet to be dealt with and so are recreating lifetime to lifetime.

there is nothing to prevent one from simply doing this on their own from the source self or observer self and gaining this universal philosophical perspective and finished up their anguish or repetititive patterns at all. I have done so with illnesses and gotten a handle on several of them and a spontaneous healing to prevent a surgical event with another one I created. it is pretty amazing work.”


Sept 30th
Hanging with the boys from upstairs this weekend when I can. I love hanging with kids. Have to find a way to incorporate that into my life more. hanging with more children. They are awesome. so loving and innocent and fresh and clean and clear and happy.

Last screening: four hour documentary called the History of the Barbarians. Learning about the Huns, the Mongols, the Goths, the Vikings, and the Bush administration. Good stuff. Learning a lot.


Sept 29th
Well it’s official. Looks like winter is already here. Just decided to go right from summer to winter. No autumn. Not even October yet and we’re waking up shivering. Have the space heater out. I have written a little poem about how I feel about waking up freezing cold already and how few months we actually got to be warm here:

Fuck this cold
Fuck this fucking cold place.
Fuck fuck
Fuck fuck
I'm fucking freezing and
It’s still fucking September.
Can we get a fucking fall please?!
Fuck fuck
Fuck fuck
God am I fucking cold
This fucking sucks.
Fuck this cold place.
How can people fucking live here.
Fuck.

That should do it for now. might need to tweak it a bit. Haha.

Anyway, woke up this morning thinking more about what we were speaking about yesterday. The whole strengthening the will and discipline muscles concept. More and more and more thinking about it.

Meantime 32 square miles of fires are ravaging southern California. Knee deep in the apocalypse.


Always a lot of talk about indi rock these days. but all the popular indi rock bands are on major labels with 3 million dollar budgets. (that's an accurate figure – in fact most label guys will admit its closer to 5 million) So how indi rock is that? Maybe indi rock is just a sound anyway. maybe it has nothing to do with being independent or not. but when you think of indi rock you think of bands like dinosaur Jr. or pavement or guided by voices.... or even the velvet underground.

Last screening: History of Islam documentary. Good stuff. learning a lot.

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Sept 28th Another dream of killing

Sept 28th
Another dream of killing. This time a killing spree. It lasted hours, days. it was this whole plan to kill all of these people. lots of blood. It wasn't just me involved. I awoke throughout the night to a horror at what I was seeing. Several times I awake in the night from the dream and coughed and gagged and felt as though I could not breathe. Only to fall back asleep into the same dream again. it was our old family home in the dream but one I have never seen. we killed a lady. We killed a man. we chopped them up. I believe mom was with me. we did our best not to talk about it. not to think about it. we all pretended that it didn't happen. that it never happened. The whole time I walked through the dream and had these conversations with mom and Beav and others I kept thinking why aren't we talking about what just happened. And isn't it amazing that we don't see any blood or any body parts...

God there were body parts everywhere... we were chopping up body parts. There was this girl, so disturbing, and she was speaking and stuff and I had already gone forward in time and seen us kill her and now I was back in time and knew we were going to kill her and there we were, and I think she was heavily drugged and didn't realize that she was about to be killed, and that she was sitting there amongst other dead people, we did our best to hide all these body parts.... I remember feeling awful about it. and yet that the whole thing was necessary...

Its funny the way dreams are, the way we wake up and cannot entirely remember in waking state the graphic details of our dreams... perhaps a protectionist default so we don't go mad.

I kept waking up during the night in these coughing spasms my nose running and as I would rub my nose with my arm I fully expected to see all this blood on my arm or hand. I expected it. I was completely immersed in this dream. No matter how many times I woke up or went back to sleep I was back in the same dream all night: we had just killed a bunch of people. again the feeling was that we had to. that we had no choice in it. I felt so bad for killing this lady. And this man. the lady saw the man under the water and she kept asking questions and we kept lying to her as if everything was fine but we were killing her and she was in shock she was like back to a child’s mind from shock and we kept killing her and chopping her up... and we kept speaking to her as if everything was fine.... everything was going to be fine... and we just kept looking at each other with this whole other ulterior motive in our eyes.... we would do whatever necessary to kill her, to chop her body up, to get rid of her completely....

But I was feeling awful. And I had to keep trying to stuff down and shut out my feelings!

Man little Beav was there. the kid is an angel, right, so why the hell was he there? But its funny becasue he is always the one int he dream who is resonsible telling me that i have to make these killings and im always the one scared shitless and feeling guilty that we are killing people.... what is that?

The guy is the most angelic person I have ever known. it’s like he was born with no karma. He's just this good guy, walks through life doing no wrong and wanting no wrong... and he was there. and we were killing these people. I felt as though the whole thing was on me, my bad, my problem, and weird, but at one point we were underwater looking for body parts... and I could see perfectly underwater. I just opened my eyes and could see perfectly. Looking for body parts of the people that we had killed. Horrible.

Then we were in a different house and we were just about to get found out and arrested. Like two minutes away from it. I was fully aware no matter where I went in any other dream that we had just killed all these people and that we were going to get caught. People were starting to nose around the house. and although no matter where I looked I couldn’t see any body parts I had already gone into the future and seen us getting into trouble for it. so I waited. But had I? or was this just me assuming we were going to get caught? The feeling again that I got from this dream, inside of this dream, was that we had to do it. we had no choice. we had to do it. at one point I looked over the giant house we were in. and it was mammoth. I remember distinctly two things in that moment, one was this was such a big house that it was a waste, that we could have fit many other houses in it, and two was that mom said that we could use it as a haunted house, now that we were leaving it. we had to leave the house. it was marred. It was scarred. It was boarded up. dark, shuttered, covered. We were leaving. Were we dead as well? the house was certainly dead. We had killed all of these people in it and their bodies were now buried and stuffed all throughout the house. we were leaving. It was dark. Haunted. I felt haunted.

The nieces were there. a bunch of cute little smiling girls and I could not cover my shame or guilt. Though mom persisted in acting as if everything was fine... as if all I had to do was ‘now say hello to your nieces Fishy, be a good boy and be polite,” and everything would be fine, but I was so overcome with guilt and fear and shame that I could not even speak. I just tried to make small talk but felt like a pretender, an imposter. Little Ash, Tuesdays sister was there, she was the same little Ash, all sweet and innocent and peering up at me with those innocent brown child like brown eyes... and I was overcome with guilt and shame and horror of who I was as we spoke, feeling entirely undeserving to be in her presence or be speaking with her. as if I might taint her with my presence.

I am awake now. I am horrified. I must have dreamed this dream for hours last night. I woke up and felt awful. Horrified. Terrified. Sick. Sickened. Guilty. Ashamed. Disturbed. Frightened. what am I doing in my life right now that is bringing on these dreams of murder? Who am I killing? what am I killing? There is a wrong turn I have made somewhere recently. and I can feel it. the voice in my head tells me that I have taken a wrong turn and that I am killing something. something important. that through certain decisions I have made, and am making, that I am murdering something and will not be able to get it back. God tell me what the fuck I am killing! Tell me what the fuck I am doing that needs to be stopped now and I will do it! what am I murdering? Who am I deceiving? Is it just the way I am living? Irresponsibly bouncing from one easy task to another with no real discipline in my life, no real direction.... stagnating, profligating, pussy-footing, easy-streeting. Is that it?

It is true, there are specific decisions I am making that are leading me down the wrong path and I know it. but continue to do them anyway.

I know what I need to do. I know the mistakes I am making. I know the weaknesses. I need discipline. I need to exercise the will. I have become weaker in the last year than at almost any other time in my life. waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Instead of doing anything.... and perhaps this is what I am murdering.... my future. Perhaps through this utter lack of will and discipline and this wanton wandering from one easy self gratification experience to another I am slowly but resolutely killing my future, my potential, my destiny.

I believe this is it. I am choosing to kill deliberately but telling myself that I have no choice in it. I make the decision. Take the action. Forget that I made the decision. Pretend I am the victim so as not to take responsibility. feel foreced into doing something that i really wanted to do... An old game.


-------------------------------------------


It is later. I am on the subway. And I am listening to this song ‘hello my dove’ on my ipod over and over again. I cannot stop listening to it. I think it is the best song I have written all year. and that says a lot. this has been an amazing year for songwriting. Unheralded. Though as Infinito points out, I say that about every year of songwriting and every song I write.

So I'm listening to this song and I'm just sitting there riding along with everyone else and I'm feeling this usual intense of feeling of self obsessed woe is me as we all are riding along in our own private subway train lives.... everyone staring off into the distance.... distant. Reflective. Pensive.

I'm not sure what happened, but one minute I am sitting in woe is me seriousness about that dream I had or whatever and in the next moment I realize from being there on the subway and listening to this music and looking at everyone else... that this is life... this is what life is all about. all of a sudden I realized that I didn't need to take it so seriously... you know, and even if I did it wouldn’t matter because that's what life’s about. taking it seriously, taking it not so seriously, I mean, when we see those movies about life where things are fucked and people are on the subway or in their car and they're sad or lonely or worried or upset, that is fucking us there. That's fucking me right now. On this subway car. I'm one of those people who is a little sad or worried or preoccupied riding on a train... and man there was freedom in that. I just understood there that that is what life is all about. holy shit. I'm living life. I'm alive and this is what life is all about. wow. total freedom in that. and i realized that all of this stuff that i am feeling, that we all feel from time to time... thats all part of living the life. and the life is a great thing to be living.


Here's one from the morning train:


Collaborate with me

Collaborate with me
Heavens daughter
My Goddess of inspiration
Celebrate with me
My Aphrodite
Your dancing fingers
Across my past and futures
But I will not make love with you

But rather keep flame the burning
Brighter with each passing night
As new poetry is birthed
From our spirited plane

I wish I could sleep with you
Bond with you
Melt with you
See eye to eye with you
And become one with you
Body to body
And lust to lust
Enraptured in midnight
From dawn until dusk

To get over you
I would do just about anything
To become one with you
I would do more
To touch you see you
Naked and vulnerable
And bond with your thunder
Great Athena
There is no treasure I would not steal or plunder

You taught me to breathe
In a different way entirely
Blowing your great graceful wind
Through the sails of my stagnant stilted lungs
An appreciating cough
I Gasp and Wake up
Set free
With fresh eyes
To see the world anew
And set off
To new adventures
On new horizons
To bring back offers
Of treasures and pleasures
To please you and thank you
And fill up your coffers

Yet on my own
Though still breathing
Through you
At times you may chuckle
For my poeming is new
Synchronized breathing
The leash stretching each day
Inch by inch
And foot by foot
I am poeming madly
Involuntarily
But gladly

I surrender to your inspiration
My Dionysus
With exasperation
I succumb to this obsession
My maiden muse of passion

Lightening continues to strike chords
Of new song
So I continue to play along
As you keep poeming me
Challenging me
Denying me
Ebb and flowing me
Communicating me
Yet still berating me
Excommunicate escape me
I see through your paper walls
And the dimly lit hallways
Of your tip toes and shushing me
In our theatre of this great mystery
And I laugh
At your sullen protests
That our vision
Is revisionist history

Brick by brick
She single strokes me
With a laugh
That shudders and invokes me
To new heights and new depths
Building me up and
Taking me down
Drawing her sword
And piercing my liquidity
My partner in no-crime
My thorny queen and her crown

My gracious maid of honor and horror
Watch us with me
From above and below
As we build to a great crashing crescendo
Of delicacy
And thunder
Resonating profoundly
And shaking the walls of our chapel within
Our past has already been sold
Our futures already been told
And so I am content
With this grace and this sin
With this duel and its din
With you clothed
For now
In feathers of soft white
Silver and gold

Sept 27th
Each day it gets darker and colder here in Gotham. An associate tells me yesterday in passing, ‘I cannot enjoy the fall because all I can think of is the coming winter.’ I tell him I agree. I ma dreading it. dreading it. why does it have to be cold? A bitter chill awakens us now. Already the darkness brooding by noon. It is now 59 effing degrees here and we are still in September. We haven't even had a fall yet! Fuck this weather.

New York, NY

Clear
Temp: 59°F (15°C)



Still poeming madly. Daily. Finding a new brain. I just cannot believe it, but I am seriously fucking poeming. And I cannot express the joy I get out of this exercise. Song and poem coming together under one roof. In my speech and in my thoughts now. dreaming in poetry.

I had always looked at it like one of those impossible things that I would just never one appreciate or two ever be able to do myself. Always seemed too complicated for my ADD mind... Your ease encouragement and enthusiasm has been totally awesome and rocked my prose-writing ass into a whole new world. It has certainly gotten me off on a tangent. {thank God you didn't teach me to kill.... there’d be no one left in the city!]


[this is from the diaries]
On poeming:
One thing I have noticed from sitting on all of these poems and working at them everyday is that there seem to be a few rules. (Such as “there are no rules” or “want to write a really great poem? Break some rules.”) Two more of them being: one: the more you let a poem simmer, the better its going to taste when you serve it. AND: But if you let a poem simmer too long or mess with it too much you are going to burn it. So one needs to strike a delicate balance between those two rules.

My mom is not known as a good cook. She's a three-PhD holding raving lunatic of an intellectual to say the least, so being in the kitchen was never her thing. But she did perfect two dishes. One is her spaghetti sauce. Every one loves her spaghetti sauce. It’s a meal in itself and you don't really need any pasta with it. its just this big rich tasty dark-red stew of God knows what but boy does it taste good. of course the only problem is that an hour or two later you have to be prepared to spend some good long quality reading time in the you know where. But luckily mom’s bathrooms look more like libraries so there's plenty of reading material.

The other dish that she is famous for is her soup. now I'm not sure if she ever came up with a name for it so we just call it moms soup. She makes both dishes in these giant crock pots and she needs about three days till either dish is ready to be eaten. It’s a big no-no to try to eat it or even try it until the end of the third day. she never wants to profane the sacredness of these classic dishes by anyone dipping in too early... so we respect the process... unless we come home drunk and famished one night and mom’s asleep... but that's another story.

The point is that the only way she can get these dishes to taste so darn good is through this very long drawn out low temperature simmering process of all these different ingredients. Three damn days. But a big bowl of that soup and a few chunks of fresh Italian bread and you are in heaven.

I have come to understand that poeming is like that. you jot. You note. you amend. You rework. You read aloud. You add a little bit. Take away a little bit. And eventually you have something you can really be proud of. Songwriting is like that too of course. the best songs are the ones that you let brew for a few months or years before recording them. till they are completely your own. till you own them. till they own you. till you own each other.

PS – when you read them aloud, that's where the true power of poeming is I have come to realize.




I See You People

I see you people
In all your color
New York is such funny place
With your running and scrambling
And your getting ahead
Your green pointed boots
And pink sweaters
With your stairs and stares
And your beauty on every corner
And down every sidewalk
With your sirens
In silk suits
And sly smiles
And those tiny dogs
Smelling and smiling up the city streets

I see you people
With your quick step
And your hop along skip
And your cell phone appendage
And ipod
On your bikes and rollerblades
And your funny floppy hats
That cannot help but elicit a smile
With your pumas
And pajamas
And Asian fashion statements
Fancy handbags
And the cling clang of your bicycle chains

I see you people
On our sidewalks of gold
Eating your ice cream from a cup
With a little plastic spoon
Italian horn rimmed glasses
Ripped jeans
And sleeveless shirts
Showing your muscle
To the envy of the rest of the civilized world
With your cool and sober commentary
By just your being
Who can make a t-shirt look better
Than a New Yorker

I see you people
In the clickity clack
Of your subway trains
And knap sacks
Bouncing off your shoulder
Your endless bounty of events
Always wearing black
And your shades in the night
All dolled up and too many places to go
No one looks better in a suit and sneakers

I see you people
And all of your color
You New York Jew
You African American
You Italian American
You Irish immigrant
You Hispanic and Latino
I see you people
Climbing out of your ghetto
To face another day
You Korean behind the counter
With your high priced goods
That I'm going to buy anyway
Because I like drinking my beer from a can
Wrapped in a brown paper bag

I see you people
With your working class nose to the grindstone
You English tea
And French toast
With your German engineering
And your Chinese ambition
You us you me you us you me
In our displaced diaspora
That forever belongs
In this city of all cities
That doesn’t sleep
That Needs no sleep
That Doesn’t question
That Never answers
That Only beckons

I see you people
With your hot fireman suit
In your big red truck
That gun in your holster
Protecting the great city
By day and by night
I see you shuffling
With your dastcund lagging behind you
The Daily News tucked under your tired arm

I see you people
With your nose in the air
And your perky breasts
Bouncing merrily on the way to somewhere
A mystery in black
With your Beagles and pugs
And your giant sheep dogs
Your Champaign cavaliers
And your black limousines
Your Mercedes and Beamers
And your big yellow taxis
And baby carriages
Pink lemonades
And hot dogs for a dollar

I see you people
Hunched over
Humpbacked
And talking to yourself
Peeing in a phone booth
Before stopping to say hello
Clinging change in your cup
For a mission unworthy
If you're going to keep shooting it away
But I'm going to give anyway
Because man that cat can play

I see you people
And I love you




-----Original Message-----
From: The Poet [mailto:thepoet@hotmail.com]
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2005 3:01 PM
To: fishy@xxx.com
Subject: Just call me Fishy

Dude. im turning into you. Recently I've been taking baths and going to church. Maybe I'll grow my hair out, move to New York, and start banging men.

Call me. Your number is gone from my home.

The Poet

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yo dog brother,
Baths are awesome. God is awesome. Church is awesome. Long hair is oh so awesome. New York of course is awesome. And well, banging men, not sure about that one. I'll leave that to you. Let me know if its awesome too and i'll certainly try it.

My cell is xxx-xxx-xxxx. How the hell do you lose the ambassador's phone number?
Fishy