I don't even know...

The ribs and the rhymes of the passing prospects
ebb past me with a smooth consistency
I am in my head for such long passages of time
flowing with the tide, denying my denial

I float through the landscapes
of present and future
I look for the girl
and see her passing everywhere
Up close she seems even farther away
Dwelling not until after the time has passed
yet I glance over my shoulder
to see if she's still there

There is no comfort in the thought
but only in the experience
Throw that cover over your face
and the light will still shine through

Is it so bad to be of these times?

Do I act off blind feeling
or quiet contemplation
Do I jump or am I pushed
"It's like this" said my shadow
but the clouds were too dense in the sky

Wading through stagnant warm water
is contention in manageable doses

8/13/09

I hit the lawn mower today.
I kicked, pounded, pummeled with all available limbs. Beads of sweat streaked down the face of a red-cheeked 19 year old. Muffled exhales of breath escaped with violent ferocity. The quiet whisper of "She's A Rainbow" could be heard from the iPod ear-buds holding on to my ears for dear life. Luckily, no real damage was done...I don't think...

What a sight it was.

I've come to realize that on occasion, I completely lose my cool on inanimate objects. Let me dispel any hint that I would do this to anything other than an inanimate object. I could never do what I did to the lawnmower to any human being or animal.
It happens maybe once a month, if that. I just get frustrated with something so I shake it until it clicks, hit it until it lights up, kick it until it starts. I can remember doing this even at a very young age, a lot more often then. Currently, it's more out of habit. I was bullied through my childhood, yada yada, I don't want anyone's pity. It wasn't that bad. But it would still cause me to come in and every once and a while, hit a pillow or a piece of furniture or whatever was giving me a hard time. It was nothing drastic. It was me hitting a sofa cushion until I realized what I was doing. I always felt ashamed after, like I had stooped to the level of the bully.

And so here I am, kicking the side of the lawn mower, stopping occasionally to try to start the engine again, Rolling Stones playing adding a soundtrack to the occasion. But today I came to a realization.
After checking the gas, about to wail on it again, I stopped. I looked up into the sky and felt the calm. There was something else there, something keeping me from my frustration. I gazed at the low-hanging clouds against a blue saturated sky. The swaying limbs of the trees pulled my attention to the leaves reaching out in all directions. A quick prayer of thanks...I drooped my head down and let the sun beat down upon my neck, a wry smile on my face. I closed my eyes and took it all in.

Then I drenched the lawn mower in gasoline, lit it on fire, and pushed it down the big hill leading away from my street. It was a beautiful sight. It slowly hobbled down the road, its squeaky uneven wheel causing a limp. Slowly, people began poking their heads out from behind the faded doors. The kids on War Admiral Rd. dropped their bats and balls. Arrcaro Ln. let go of their bikes and scooters. The neighborhood bully stopped in mid-abuse, the victim making a run for the trees as the torch made its way past the suburban sprawl.

Zeitoun

An excerpt from Dave Eggers, Zeitoun:

"He had been on a tanker once, maybe twenty years earlier, navigating through the Philippines. It was late, after midnight, and Zeitoun was keeping the captain company on the bridge.

To stay awake and alert, the captain, a Greek man of middle age, liked to take up provocative subjects. He knew that Zeitoun was a Muslim and a thoughtful man, so he sparked a debate about the existence of God. The captain began by expressing his utter conviction that there was no God, no deity in the sky watching over the human world.

Zeitoun had been on the bridge with the captain for an hour at that point, watching him pilot the ship through the many islands, avoiding high shelves and sandbars, other ships and countless unseen dangers. The Philippines, with over seven thousand islands but only five hundred lighthouses, was known for its frequency of maritime accidents.

"What would happen," Zeitoun asked the captain, "if you and I went below the deck, and just went to our bedrooms and went to sleep?"

The captain gave him a quizzical look and answered that the ship would most certainly hit something-would run aground or into a reef. In any event, disaster.

"So without a captain, the ship cannot navigate."
"Yes," the captain said, "Whats's your point?"

Zeitoun smiled. "Look above you, at the stars and the moon. How do the stars keep their place in the sky, how does the moon rotate around the earth, the earth around the sun? Who's navigating?"

The captain smiled at Zeitoun. He'd been led into a trap.
"Without someone guiding us," Zeitoun finished, "wouldn't the stars and moon fall to earth, wouldn't the oceans overrun the land? Any vessel, any carrier of humans, needs a captain, yes?"
The captain was taken with the beauty of the metaphor, and let his silence imply surrender."

I

I feel helpless.

I know I can't change everything.
I want to paint large, noticeable strokes.
Or be in the small details that complete the big picture. Or both.
In the end, both are one in the same.

I'm ready.

Secret Entry

Secret Entry
Originally uploaded by Charlie is here

Yep.

Peace

Sometimes words just don't get the job done.


Watch this with the Full Screen option, trust me.

Kuroshio Sea - 2nd largest aquarium tank in the world - (song is Please don't go by Barcelona) from Jon Rawlinson on Vimeo.