Spent three hours last night researching. Started by finishing the articles on the federal reserve. From there found a multitude of websites on similar topics. Watched a documentary on the Carlyle group. then a bit or two of the Nicholas berg beheading. Then a bunch of orgs that are claiming that the berg beheading was faked. That it never happened. Then on to a million websites that claim that a plane never crashed into the pentagon on Sept 11th. this is known as the ‘pentagon missile theory.’ A lot of the stuff comes off like half baked conspiracy theory bunk. But some not. Spent an hour scouring through the reams of websites claiming that sept 11th was a huge conspiracy in and of itself. That yes it happened, but not the way we were told it happened. The evidence is hard to squash and harder to forget. The truth is unfortunately that we the people never saw the plane that crashed into the pentagon, never saw any wreckage, and that the twelve foot hole in the side of the building couldn’t have been caused by a jet with a one hundred and twenty five wingspan. But again, who knows. shit, we’re still living in a country where the official story of the jfk murder is that lee Harvey Oswald did it, but you can’t find anyone in the country who really believes it anymore; not even people in the middle States. my mind spinning from all of the new information, I fell asleep thinking about the last time I spoke with Sam from the New York Times.

She asked me ‘now that you’ve opened my eyes to this whole federal reserve thing... what do you expect me to do?’
‘you mean now that you’ve taken the red pill?’ I joked.
“seriously Fishy. what are you expecting?’
‘I'm not expecting anything. You'll do what you do. I was just showing you something... that's all.’ ‘well I have a life Fishy. I'm not going to go underground and start fighting the good fight like all those activist friends of yours. I have a life.’
‘o.k. fine. I love you no matter what you do. but you'll do the right thing eventually.’
‘what about your family? And your future? Don't you think about that?”
‘yes. all the time. that's what they want you to think about. That's what they're planning on. That you'll forget about this. Or that you'll move on and start focusing on your life and your job and your family.... That's why these things are called conspiracies. Because they're going on right in front of our noses but very few of us know about it... and those of us who do know about it know damn well that we can’t do a thing about it... that's the setup.’
‘So lets say that this is a conspiracy... what can we do about it?’
‘I don't know.’ I paused for a good minute or more. dead silence on the phone. listening to her breathe. Waiting for me to respond. ‘probably nothing Sam. What can we really do? Educate and inform our friends and family. Take the risk of being labeled freaks and radicals.’
‘you’ve been studying this stuff for ten years. what are you doing? Why should I do something?’
‘Look, you know what I'm doing. Its no secret. I have transcendent television. Our website. I spend close to a thousand bucks a month of my own money on the people that work on that website. Constantly uploading information to the site, just to get the information out there to people. I do my best to inform people, to use the public attention I have to turn people on... if I read about it and think it’s something important, or even interesting, then I post it. That's my part. But you Sam, you can do a lot more. you're big time. you have a huge audience. the biggest audience in the world.’
‘I'm not doing it Fishy. its too risky. I have my family to consider. I have my career.’
‘I used to feel the same way. I know. you'll take what I gave you and file it somewhere. And you won't think about it for a few months. Or a few years even. And then you'll read something that reminds you... some little bit of truth that speaks so loudly to you that the whole damn reality of this will come crashing back into your mind again and your conscience will force you to start researching again and you'll get even more into it... if you have a heart and a conscious, which I know that you do, you won't be able to help it....’
‘I hate you. you know that? I wish you never would have told me about any of this.’
‘I know. I wish I didn't know anything about it either. I'm sorry for that.’
‘I liked it a lot better when our relationship was purely sexual.... I think that you were just using me because of this. because you wanted an in with major media.’
‘that's funny.’ I laughed. ‘Because I have a lot of ‘ins’ with major media in case you forgot. You just happen to be one of the few that I sleep with, and besides, have I ever asked you to write a story about our band? or about me or anything that I do?’
‘No. you were saving me for this crap! For all this conspiracy theory crap. I wish you would have just asked me to write an article about your new CD or something.’
‘They're not theories Sam. There's nothing theoretical about it. This is a conspiracy. It’s happening. Its real. It’s the real deal. I promise you that I won't waste your time with any conspiracy theories. I don't have the time for them. they bore the shit out of me. I'm only interested in the things that are really happening. In fact, it’s the fucking crazy conspiracy theories that make it so hard for the real conspiracies to get any credit in the public eye. For all we know, the government is the one behind a lot of the kooky theories that are out there. good way to keep everyone skeptical.... and ignorant about what's really going on...’
‘you have a point... that would be funny.’ She laughs.
‘yeah. Real funny. Make fun of our country being taken over by giant evil multi-national corporations...’
‘what else are we supposed to do? Fishy. lighten up. I can’t talk about this anymore. My heart is beating so fast. lets have sex over the phone.... tell me what you would do to me if you were here...’
‘Sam. I'm sorry. You don't have to do anything. You know that. you just happened to have called at the wrong moment and I told you all this stuff. forget about it. I want you to just do your thing. just do your thing. your doing a good thing. don't stop what you're doing.’
‘and what about you? now I have to worry everyday that I am going to wake up and see on the news that you’ve mysteriously disappeared or that you’ve been murdered.... I think you should just be a singer and forget about all this...’
‘Sam, you know how they say that God never deals you anything that he doesn’t feel that you can handle?’
‘yeah. I've heard that. Philosophical new age mumbo jumbo. I don't think like that.’
‘Well maybe you want to start thinking like that... there's no going back now Sam.’

I didn't mention that fateful meeting with Black Coat a few years ago. Why mess her up even more? she had had enough. I believe I have already written about that meeting years ago... in the earlier diaries. I will check. Black Coat was a friend of ours from high school who now works for the FBI. We met a few years ago and he told me to cool it for a while with the diaries and the protests and the general revolutionary outbursts I was getting known for. “Let me put it this way my brother. If you take my advice, there will be no need for you to ever thank me. Because nothing will ever happen.” “And if I don't follow your advice?” “You're going to wish you had bro. that's why I looked you up.’ ‘What are you saying man?’ ‘We go way back Fishy. Be cool is all I'm saying. You're a singer. Remember that.”

Miami can have this unfortunate and irreversible effect on how you look at the rest of America; I guess a lot of places can have that effect on you. Like when you live in New York, and in conversation you hear where someone else lives, you cannot help but respond to them in a kind of condescending way. I mean, that's not something you can help; that's just the way it is. you live in New York. How else are you supposed to feel? they can feel it too; they even think the same thing. they tell you where they are from, be it Virginia, or new Hampshire or Colorado or where ever, and then they ask you where you're from and you say ‘New York’ and they’re like “ooohhhh, New York!!!!” and that's that. like John Lennon said when he was trying to get his residency, ‘America is the roman empire of the modern world and New York is Rome; It’s the center of the world.” He fucking loved it and who wouldn’t. though you do meet people all the time who exclaim how they would never live there themselves. And who’s to blame them. the place is crazy. a world unto itself. Takes a certain kind of person. I just sold a three thousand square foot house to hopefully, if I'm lucky, buy a five hundred square foot apartment. As excited as I am, I think it’s the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Just plain stupid. You spend your whole life collecting all this beautiful stuff from all over the world to fill your big beautiful home with, and then you have to throw it all into storage so you can move into a closet basically and be happy if you can just have enough room for you and your bed and your clothes and your cds. Crazy. but you can’t look at it that way. when you buy a place in New York, you're not buying your little place in New York. You're buying ‘space’ in New York. You're buying easier more convenient access to New York city, one of the greatest cities in the world. That's the way you gotta look at it.

Tonight I'm on Lincoln road in South beach. And as always I'm amazed by the sheer number of beautiful men and women I see walk by every few seconds. You're talking about a whole city where everyone dresses hip and cool, and looks beautiful and stylish. there is a group of men that is sitting next to me outside here. they are tourists. Americans. Middle Americans... here on business of some kind. By the sound of it they are some type of salesmen. And I realize that Miami has changed me now. i don't know if I will ever be the same. You cannot look at middle Americans the same anymore after you live in Miami. even if you're one of them yourself. I looked at these guys in their khaki slacks and short sleeve button down shirts and their crew cut hairdos making their silly comments about every hot girl that walked by. After a year or two in Miami, living amongst the largely Latin and European culture you tend to forget what the rest of America is like, New York not included, but their just so unstylish and unfashionable... And then when you see them in this environment, so cheesy and white-bread and out of place... that can mess with you... but I tell you what really messes with you... when you remember that you're one of them.

This couple walked by wheeling a physically challenged boy in a wheelchair. I was reminded of how lucky I am. God I'm such a whining little baby. I've got everything in the world. the love of my family and friends, money, a roof over my head, a career I love, and more than anything else I can fucking walk without a wheelchair... I have my health. And all I ever do is bitch and complain. ‘God help me to get over whatever the hell is wrong with me and start appreciating what I have...’

A few minutes later a short black lady, wearing nothing but rags, with this hunger in her eye saunters over to us... I look down at my laptop screen... I can feel her staring at me. I can feel her wanting, her pain, and her suffering. I remember the deal I made with God. ‘I want to help more.’ ‘you do help Fishy.’ ‘thanks. But I want to help more. God help me to open up more. help me to be even more social, even more open, to be even more there for my fellow man. I am ashamed of myself most of the time and my snobbish attitude towards others God. help me to be more alive and aware and awake to other people and their needs and how I can help them God.’ I looked up and the woman was staring right at me. I felt her. it did not feel good. she was obviously messed up. fucked up in the head. Fucked up on something. her life now a shadow of what she once was at some point in her past. Those hungry bloodshot eyes. I was just another dollar to her. I knew it. ‘can you spare some loose change so’s I can get me some food sir?’ I hate when these people thirty or forty years older than me call me sir. it breaks my fucking heart wide open. I reached into my pocket. I had a twenty and a one. I gave her the twenty and kept the one for myself. ‘here. take this.’ her eyes lit up as much as they could. ‘oh God bless you. thank you son...’ ‘hey lady, You know God’s looking out for you. don't forget that,’ I told her. she smiles and walks away.

I sit down and think about the twenty I just gave away. I wasn't feeling regret. Just concern about my own welfare. I thought to myself, yeah but who’s looking out for Fishy. That's what I want to know.’ and I continued to write. God if you have a plan now would be a good time to reveal it. any time you want to let me in on the secret is fine with me... if that song of ours superhero girl blows up on radio and makes us a ton of money I'll give away a lot more than that God. ‘I know you will.’ ‘well good then. Cause I'm not trying to be a complainer or anything.. but uh, I just don't want to be like that lady walking around asking people for money on the street or anything... you know?’ God laughs. at least he has a sense of humor... lets hope I can keep mine.

A few minutes later three girls stood about fifteen yards away from me, giggling and taking my picture. I waved and smiled. And forgot all about my concerns. Membership has its rewards.

A few times I looked up and for a moment thought that I saw HER. SHE is getting closer. Several times in the last few days and weeks I look up and think I see her. my heart races and time stops for a moment. Its just something in the face... something special, a certain look... a certain presence... I haven't experienced this in years. not since I first met Cleopatra. I can tell by the signs from the universe that it is happening. I don't care that I haven't made love to a sexy Yugoslavian spy or the entire Danish Olympic swim team all at once; I'm ready now. where ever you are. I'm ready.