Farewell. Look me up on wfw.

I sit alone here now
I have sat alone for many hours
many hours from now still I will sit.
I have no company to keep
no one seeks for me to entertain them
and no entertainment I seek
but that which solitude brings
for I know well enough what the end will be
forgotten all, this depth I now feel
for Life can not have it
for Life is what I am not
the words of Life are not my words
the rhythm of Life is foreign to me
yet will I beat it out, and gladly
for then I am self-forgotten
with Life's beat to distract me
her words charm me
I am forgotten, and dead
until alone again I sit, and look
at my own words, and self-perpetuating lie
and here in this place of my own construction
when the drink evaporates from my tongue
I have never seen more fully
the wonder that is solitude

the title of a poem
is sometimes a summary
a witness of the words
you are about to read
and perhaps a clever warning
to those about to tread
that this is holy ground
remove your shoes or face
your own wrath, infidel

Brandy is yummy. Yummy yummy brandy.

When I was in Chiang Mai at the night bazaar I got a samurai sword. The bazaar is awesome because you barter for everything. The price of this sword was 1800 Baht, but I got it for 1000, just under 25 American dollars. Yeah, It's pretty much the coolest thing in the world:

TILL TILL TILL

Bow to your sensai. BOW.

Dragon carved on bamboo sheath. That's right.

Dragon hilt.

Kill Bill.

I also got the Thai Coca-Cola shirt there.

"Remember, nothing says 'good job' like a firm, open-handed slap on the behind."

If you could change from how you are now, would you? If you had the chance to be something different, would you take it? What if you could be invincible? If you were invincible and you could fly, you could help people everywhere, fighting evil, doing good. But you'd have to have a weakness, so that people could relate to you. Then they would love you. Could you relate to a flying invincible man with one great weakness?

What about this. What if you somehow inherited the genetic capabilities of an insect, say, a spider, so that you had superhuman qualities about you that let you jump higher and move faster? You could stick to walls and spin webs so that evil wouldn't stand a chance. You'd know that with great power comes great responsibility, right? You'd always fight evil, no matter what.

Or maybe you could chage in other ways, more simple ways. Maybe you could just be a nicer person. Maybe you'd have more foresight. That way you could fall around someone, some girl, and you could say everything to her that she wants to hear, and then, in the end, nothing bad would happen because there wouldn't be an end, it would last for ever.

Now maybe you realize, as you lightly feel the dragon hilt of your sword, you make a much better villian than a hero.

Written the night of July 21, 2004, in a very hot and muggy bedroom in Tacoma Washington.

He walked slowly into the cool forest and felt refreshed by its peace. The wooden shed that had scared him when he was a child was still there, only now it was older and harmless in the quiet woods. He almost wished that it did still scare him, if only to let him know that he had not at all changed. But he was a man now, and though perhaps older some, and wiser some, deah had already begun.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, but what if the ventured is already doomed? What if the risks outweigh the chances of any gain? All there would be is more pain for it. More yet than there is. Better to venture nothing, gain nothing, lose nothing but what is already lost.

He put down his pen and poured himself another shot. It was so cold in here. He thought if he drank enough he wouldn't feel it after awhile, but now he was beginning to shiver. Maybe if he got his blood working. Maybe a walk would do him good, and his mind could wander with his feet. There was only familiar ground outside though, and his thoughts were as familiar. He walked up the hill overlooking the highway. So many people, all so happy. I'm always happy when I'm driving at night. Now he knew he was just feeling sorry for himself. His hands moved to light a cigarette, but his lighter was lying by his pencil on his desk. "Bother" he said out loud. It began to rain, slightly. Right on cue. It's like a bloody tragedy, only without the drama. God forbid there be any drama. He watched the cars for awhile, then turned around back down the hill and across the street. The rain was turning into a sort of mist that he could feel on his face. When he got home, he felt much better. He put on the kettle for tea, sat down again at his desk, and picked up his pen.

That I never hurt you is something I'll take comfort in for now.

He poured himself another shot.

Grasping at Strawfish

I've come to realize, in the past year, really, the beauty that is in all aspects of life. Especially in sadness there is much beauty. This is because beauty stems from truth. There is no lie in sorrow and misery, and so there is beauty to be found there. To see the results of what is false, also, has beauty. False tears and false smiles always have their end, which masks only a greater truth of character and life.

When it hurts most is when beauty is best seen; pain is a purifier. This I have also realized. The tears that ripen under the eyes, but never fall. This is a betrayal of character from which can be gleaned more than one aspect of life.

To properly harness even one truth is art. To show emotion as you have felt it, this is truly art. To leave with the observer all of the turmoil of emotion that you can summon within yourself, to make him feel it as you have felt it, this is art. In this way the artist harvests pain, and refines it into art. Pain is the artist's transport to truth. Pain, true pain, produces art entirely of one's self. Short of that is a lie, a betrayal.

In this way, I can accept sadness. I find the beauty in it and enjoy it. Not the giddy joy of new love, or bubbles, or a birthday, but the calm serene joy that lets you fully accept your circumstances as a higher work of art. To look at, enjoy, find the truth in, and move on. Always move on.