Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

that seems right to a man but leads to death.

It seems to me whatever way I go I am still going to die. I could be wrong about that "but only my dying will tell"

Jitterbug tells he is never going to die. I hope he is right. I hope I die before him so I won't have to find out if he was wrong.

"My faith is as the taper light; his is as the burning sun. ..." ( paraphrase of Frederick Douglass.)

I am going to be a long time gone. And there ain't much time left till I go. So let me sit here and do what I love.

Jam with the man upstairs

Who lives upstairs Truck? Does he play the guitar? A harmonica? Have fun jammin'

Back to the subject of death, that ultimate ending (beginning?) is just another mystery. Unlike forays into unknown lands or even reaches of space where exploration is a possibility. But maybe there is another door or dimension and some species out there has found it but us infantile humans may never know until we reach a more mature level.

Nate tells me he will never die. I asked him once why and he told me he was enlightened, "Yes I AM" he said. I was taken aback...he is "retarded" after all and for that to come out of his Down's looking face, well...I really was stunned. He remembers a last life, he was a soldier and died in war. Now he just dresses like a soldier. He loves old WWII movies and guns and camouflage (green not tan, never desert tan) and when we all go out, he has to have his cap (military of course.) He tells me he is a Warrior.

He also tells me he has an angel. My Dad had an angel too that was there for him in tough situations. She was a she and he never doubted her a bit. Nate says an angel saved him from drowning but she will not be back "for a long, long time." She was a little girl as he was a small boy, he tells me.

Now, its really weird, seriously because I have no idea what is beyond death or even believe in angels or such beings or even a god but I do know one thing, neither my Dad or Nate lied to me. Dad had his honor and Nate just doesn't know how to be deceptive.

There are just some things in Life and/or Death that will remain a mystery and that is rather exciting. I think I am looking forward (rather than dreading) seeing what is beyond... I just hope the passing is peaceful as I would hate to die in fear or hopelessness.

In the meantime, it is difficult enough just to stay in this moment.

SooZen I should have used an emoticon. I was just using trucker talk. Plain language the kind they say Jesus used I guess. He did not speak Hebrew I have read. But Aramaic(spelling) it was the street language of the day. I don't want to get into theology but you know like Barry said somebody has to have the balls to stand up for God. Jesus is just okay with me SooZen. I ain't trying to sell no body nothing. Be he myth, meat or metaphor Jesus helped me to get to sleep one night after I had that vascectomy. I was standing there with blood soaking through my jockey shorts totally in freak out mode because of what I had done. Suppose another woman might have wanted to bear a child to me. And the doctor told me that eventually the testes stop producing sperm. My brain was wracked with despair because there was nothing I could do about it at the time. It was around midnight. I got down on my knees and prayed to Jesus, Babe Ruth Eleanor Roosevelt, and anyone else I could think of to please please let me sleep. How I longed for the oblivion of sleep. I had no thoughts of death, or suicide. Which is unusual for me. Suicide always seemed an option to me since I was eight years old and tried to hang myself.

Anyway
Yeah death is sure a mystery
I always loved that Laura Nyro song one child left to carry on, only my dying will tell.

Here is my orginal attempt to reply to you.
I did not want to reply now, but I felt as if I had better hurry in case you decided to delete your post. But I doubt if you would do that anyway.

so here is what I started to write. as follows>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>


My head is busting SooZen, probably sinuses, my eyes are tearing as I write this. I am losing it--- words are loosing their shape, I can't read them any more. After I feel better I will come back here and clean this up for eggregious errors.

Who lives upstairs Truck? Does he play the guitar? A harmonica? Have fun jammin'

I probably should have used emoticon
Just trucker talk for G-d. It was tongue in Cheek. I suppose I meant also the topmost layer of my cerebral cortex. A dialogue with myself.

I used to think about Nate a lot. especially after Cecil told me about his interest in the design of the checker board.

SooZen it is three fifty six AM here in san antone and we are gloriously wet. Most rain we have had in a year and we are all so happy. But that is not my point right now.


My point is my head is hurting, I got a hell of a headache and my eyes are bleary and I have not been able to read more than the first couple of lines of your post. I am going to get horizontal again. Hopefully when I get up I wll not have this headache.

On second thought I think I will try a cup of coffee and a slice of apple fritter bread and see if that helps. I will leave this text box open till I get back.

No I think I will just post this and get back to you on the rest of it.

Thanks for the post, it is always helpful to me. I should mention that the vasectomy happened after silent woman's abortion which happened after we fucked on LSD. And I blissed out and lost the condom in her. Her perfect lover turned into a fucking fool.

Never was a man more pussy whipped than me.

I have not talked to silentwom in over ten years. I left word with friends that I needed to speak to her. She called me and I felt ten feet tall that she forgave me. I needed a sister to talk to about my baby sister. Being a maternal uncle is as good as it gets for me. Maybe my nephew chose me.

Let me know what you do not get, I mean where my writing confuses you. That is what I love about Doreen. She will tell me.

I know what you meant Jack, about the guy upstairs. I was just joshing. Us Lees have a hard time not playing with words, ours and others...

Once I decide to post something, I have never deleted it. Or maybe I have but I don't remember it.

I am curious, since you speak so openly about it and have mentioned it more than once in the posts of yours I have read...What is so appealing about suicide to you? Why do you think that is an answer to your pain or suffering? I am being sincere here, and am wondering why anyone would want to do that unless they had a terminal and painful disease which would seem somewhat understandable to me. You never know, you might have to just come back and do it all again. Heck if I know about whether one would have to do it again but that could be a worst case scenario. I sure wouldn't want to learn all the painful lessons in this life I have lived again!

I guess suicide is the furthest thing from my mind ever. I figure I will ride this wave until whatever end is in store but never thought that ending it prematurely was an option for me. I guess one never knows tho. My Dad said he would do it if he was ever bed ridden and never to rise again but he didn't and he suffered horribly. I told him we wouldn't appreciate cleaning up the mess.

For one, I would miss your posts if you did the dirty deed. I notice that you tend to dismiss yourself frequently but I find sometimes (not always) you are the most cognizant voice in the room. More often than not. It could be your age, I know I have gained a bit more perspective as I age myself and I am not nearly as confrontational as I used to be. Less the bitch, more the buddha or something like that.

Speaking of which, I have nothing against the buddha, the jesus, the mohammed or the babe ruth (lol), etc...whomever helps one when they are down or out is alrighty with me. And I think they existed but like that Monty Python movie, Life of Brian...the guy lost his shoe and the people that thought he was a savior were all running around with one shoe on. Like I said in another post to Barry, they weren't "higher beings" they just knew how to get high and they had a lot of charisma and horse sense...(well, all but babe) Whatever helps one get by as long as it isn't destructive or hurts others. I can't abide fanaticism as it tends to blind those in the throes and they take it out on the innocent more times than not.

You were spot on when you said something to the effect that "You have to take Cecil with your tongue firmly in your cheek" (paraphrased) We are both believers in humor, the more the better for it has been what got us out of bad situations more times than I can count (course, I can't count very well...)

Dwelling in the past, all those things that happens, to you, to me or whomever is something I try and avoid. First, because it can be painful and I am not into that and secondly, nothing you can do about it. Not a durn thing. I just chalk it up as a lesson, good, bad or ugly, and try and move on. Burning that shit into my memory just keeps me from being here now.

I am glad for the rain, hope your headache is better and thank you for letting me ramble.

Doing much better thanks. The rain was so beautiful it lifted everyone's spirits.

I believe that there are more evolved beings walking this earth today. I don't know if that is the same as "higher beings” they are just farther along the way than me. I like your description of they knew how to get high.

I suppose I am on suicide watch. I like Camus a lot. He rejected suicide too. He was the real deal. I think he scares the hell out of those money grubbing TV preachers. I heard one flat out lie about him. Said he was a suicide, which is not true.

I missed an opportunity once; a fellow came to me looking for a friend. But I was so wrapped up with my own melodrama I blew him off. Not long afterwards he killed himself. Haunts me, he "memed" me. He had space aliens after him who were going to make him kill himself if he did not change his chromosomes. I should have told him to go for it. Change your chromosomes. I read something about that a couple weeks ago. Apparently we can change our DNA. But I read it in Reader's Digest. Not exactly a scientific journal.

These days I only think about suicide when I smoke a cigarette. At least I try to think about it. I had a bad cough a couple years ago and I had constant thoughts of Virginia Woolf walking into that river with her pockets full of rocks. And me with my pocket full of rocks and my lungs full of cancer. My apartment is government subsidized senior housing. Uncle Sam has banned smoking here as of September 10th. I keep them outside now which is helping me cut back at least.

Friends bandy words. That is what we do. But when it comes to religion sometimes people take offense. I try to be very careful with the G word, I avoid the male pronoun when discussing G-d. Cecil once asked how do you pronounce G-d.. Ha.


Well I have talked your ears off, thanks for taking the time to read and reply


No more true love for me SooZen it is a pretty thought but I am out of time. Or maybe I am just a coward. Either way I am just trying to "celebrate another day of living."

"Time the unbending deserter leaves us only the now" the spinoza of baltimore."

Time has been the subject of some real arguments lately. Stephen Hawking, the Cambridge cosmologist, posed a paradox when he entitled his best-selling book A Brief History of Time. By definition, the word history refers to something that has endured for some period in time. This implies that time has endured in time, which has endured in time, which has endured in time, and so on. This is going down a dead end. Such a paradox would not occur to the Hebrews because, for them, things did not happen "in time." Things happened and the happenings were time.

The Hebrew Concept of Time

Okay, I give up...who is the "Spinoza of Baltimore"? I have a guess but not sure...Mark the wired man? Only guy I know that lives in Baltimore. Let me in on the secret. I asked Cec but he didn't know either and said he hadn't asked.

Glad your head is better. The rain here in the desert always is so beautiful, the smell of creosote fills the air and I love it. From my deck, I can see clear to Mexico and it looks so peaceful. Unlike the reality of death and drug wars that are raging over there and many innocent bystanders taking a bullet. But I digress (as I am prone to do.) The rain makes the air crystal clear and for two cities the size of Phar Lepht and Juarez, that is no easy feat.

Camus huh? Man, you have got to be the most well read person I know. I hardly have time (there is that word again) to sit down here at this contraption, let alone read a book anymore. Haiku is about the extent and my journal most every day. I call it Zen Upchuck as that is mostly what it is...I vomit it out, clearing the mind of extraneous bullshit and besides, I think it is fun and I am all about having fun and a good vomit, I guess.

Makes me want to spend a few looking up Camus and seeing what he is all about...

Ask me about Paul Reps or Issa or Basho and I will fill the page (like I haven't already! )

I liked your reference to Stephen Hawkin. Man, that dude is something else altogether. I think he has it figured out and I wouldn't mind sitting at his feet for awhile just soaking it in. I hear he has a way with the ladies too.

As far as finding love again...how can you know? Stranger things happen all the time. My first husband (Cecil's best friend and his Best Man at the little wedding) was schizophrenic (very creative artistically and probably a genius but really sick) and that deal didn't last but nine months. I ended up with the best man. Hah!

It took us a couple of years to get back together as I had lost touch with Cec but he called me one day to pick up some albums Jim (the ex) had left with him...that was that, I gussied up and drove over and sunk my claws in him. Poor dude didn't have a chance. I think the women of the species do the picking too, like most mammals. He has to be available tho...and ready, and willing.

So one never knows...I don't think you can plan on Love or even look for Love for Love finds you, kinda like I feel about one's children...they find you to teach or learn whatever is needed. Teachers are like that too, I think...they find you whenever you are ready or need them. I know mine have.

Maybe a suicide watch has hands like a clock? Time is ticking and in the meantime? I would just take the sucker off and put it in the bedside table drawer. I don't like clocks or watches much anyway.

Oh, and you are so right on about people taking offense about gods or their beliefs but that surely can't be helped and most of the time, "they" just don't get it and you can't drag the old horse to water and drown him. So I Let It Be... (well, most of the time.)

I guess your ears on on the floor, speaking of "talking ears off." I hope you find them as I am having a good old time and appreciate you letting me let go in your little corner of the world. (Those emotes are cute, maybe too cute but they work...)

Man that was some great writting SooZen I think I need to get up and get out for a while. Such a beautiful day. The smoking outside thing is working great. (I already told Cecil about that on another thread)

I want to do two more things today, reply to your post and Wireman's spinach post on GO. But not now.

Just let me answer your question about the spinoza of baltimore



He is my brother aka the jitterbug.

He in the cowboy hat.

Homeboy (in the Greek Fisherman's hat) calls him the philospher in the family.

Never heard a harsh discouraging word from him in my life. Kindest man I know. Wireman is a close second for me. So easy to jam with the wireman. He has turned me onto so many good names like Han Shan and others. As have you and Cecil.

My mother told me once that jitterbug is kind to a fault
I asked her what I am and she said honest to a fault.
My father called him jitterbug because he thought jitterbugers were decadent all my brother wanted to do when he was a teen ager was dance.
with the girls.
He is the least double minded man about women that I know.
Be back later
I hope.

"melissa rode with any man who offered her a ride
they say she drank too much, shot needles in her thighs
but when i saw melissa, I saw jesus in disguise

melissa's life is moving never knowing where she is bound
searching in the hearts of others for a love she's never found
if you could love melissa you would be jesus in disguise

and she said don't look down upon my life don't judge my words a lie
you can't be any better than the worst you recognize
Oh lord I have tried to match your morals
but as many times I ventured is as many times I cried"

jitterbug lyrics from my faulty memory.