Zuihitsu

[stilltrucking]

I feel like Chauncey Gardner being here today with a writing machinelike his friend had. god how I wanted one just like it— so I could have long convoluted conversations with jack and neal about the world disappearing beneath our feet, sublime beneath our feet
Sublime sublimation Sublime volatility

The View out my front window more like a trapezoidal windshield I see tall weeds sway slightly in the wind and the blue tarp that my baby sister uses as a windscreen for her garden and I lean back on my chair from the wind trapezoid windshield and I see two monitors a router computer piles smoking materials bottle of tequila a LED magnifier couple of phones and watches, an empty pack of Pall Malls; thinking about that volatile rain we had the other day and about how much benzene have I inhaled when I worked as an organometallic research chemist.

Silicon is such an interesting molecule so similar in its properties to carbon. Silicon-based life-forms as in my little thaumaturgical buddy here, this old Dell. A hell of a leap from text to speech software to an animate object here, this old Dell.

they were talkers the original beatniks just for kicks

the way I feel about this thing we do here on s8, me and my imaginary friends

[the mingo]

“We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.” ~ Djuna Barnes


A quote is a way to get things in motion - there are no parameters, no destinations - contenting the heart with play.

you can be obsolete in a separate jewel, rotten on violets and still scat with neutrons and watch enemies perish without any hope - shape & cheer & weigh, putting sag to division in splendid harmony - blow dull or blow vigorous, wear a hat, climb bread, storm away, carve a complex win out of legs & harvest the haircut corn - the house meat is not for everybody but it was a long time ago, I mean, the moon can shine on this kind of thing for eons pulling the dresses off education and hiding everyone's umbrellas - the good-byes become hypnotic after a while.

I remember space. I remember it was provided. I remember tall birds walking on the lily pads and picking frogs off of them to swallow. There is nothing inside that is not outside.

the sky is overcast today, a blessing with the sun being so powerful this time of year.

[judih]

no outside, no inside
we breathe energy, we are energy
we live in an energetic field
the field feeds us as we feed it
except when i think and shrink away from the oneness

[the mingo]

"The priceless galaxy of misinformation called the mind." ~ Djuna Barnes

Walking in the heat, the sun unimpeded by any cloud - dog panting, she went immediately for water as soon as we returned -

Railroad crossings on country roads attract my attention - sometimes I go straight on, sometimes I stop, waiting. Before I push off I listen thinking as soon as I leave the train will come.

Words can be too much. In their vicinity I am quiet. Other times I can't seem to shut my mouth.

Reading history can stir up thoughts. Other times it just pisses me off.

Whenever someone raises one way of thinking above all others and offers proof as to its excellence, I think "golden calf" -

[still.trucking]

"What am I doing? Nothing. I am letting life rain upon me."
Rahel Varnhagen

[still.trucking]

She says, "Honey, don't worry 'bout Judgment day."
All these people goin' to heaven, they're just in our way

r wylie hubbard

Covid 19 and Neanderthal genes blessing and curse
Too hot ride
my indoor is keeping me going along with music
and Zuihitsu
listening to hill country blues

Or you can take a lipstick pickup
And play it through a Fender tweed
Oh, it's sweet, so goddamn sweet
When it squeals, squalls and bleeds

ibid

[saw]

first few days out of the hospital
after 2 weeks in the prison bed
5 by passes later. I have a long row to hoe
but delighted to have a bit more time
to look at my children, my grandson
my friends and neighbors faces all seem to be lit
by some alien light source
thrilled to be on Studio 8 with mi amigos
my brain still working, my fingers slow but sure
what's that lyric from Low Spark of High Heeled Boys
" If you had just a minute to breathe
and they granted you one final wish
would you ask for something like another chance ?
or something similar as this ?
don't worry too much it'll happen to you
as sure as your sorrows are joys "
so many lyrics swirl around in my head
I wonder what really happens when they stop your heart
for 7 hours. I bet it's kinda like rebooting your computer
when it freezes up....just shut it down....turn it back on again
problem solved ?.......something feels different

[judih]

new energy start-up
go fund me request
upgraded, no strings

[stilltrucking]

lew welch on my mind tonight

Let no one grieve.
l shall have used it all up
used up every bit of it.

What an extravagance!
What a relief!

no wonder it feels different
you sound like a walking talking miracle to me

strange feeling when you learn that someone who is alive in your memory is now dead, until I heard she was killed in that car crash on san marcos she was alive in my mind and I still had hopes of seeing her again.

I am grateful you are young and fit enough to survive.

[saw]

walked around the block early this morning
something i never thought about before, and
it was pretty hard, had to sit down on someone's steps
on the way back up the hill
a walk around the block is relative I suppose
to your condition, but never thought about it before
a walk around the block seemed like ten miles

[sasha]

But the bottom line is:

You walked around the block.

Remember the line from the original "Mutiny on the Bounty", in one of the lifeboat scenes? One of the crewmen is in despair over how far they are from land. Blye tells him, "Don't think'o that, lad - think'o far we've come."

[stilltrucking]

“We are all navigating an external world — but only through the prism of our own minds, our own subjective experience… The majesty of the universe is only ever conjured up in the mind.” rebecca elson

Keep on keeping on walking & you will be dancing soon.

[sasha]

4:30 a.m. - A barred owl yanks me from a dream in which my sister is berating me for some unremembered sin. I lie there in the darkness, grateful to be relieved of her accusations, spooked by the bird's ghostly refrain, and amused by the totemic power we've imbued these nocturnal raptors. I briefly consider running for the Tascam, but the animal isn't any closer than on other occasions that a recording would be superior to what I've already captured. Instead I decide to try to sink back down into sleep.

4:35 a.m. - Forget it. I'm awake. Might as well start the day.

[judih]

day starts
i surrender to birdcall
pavlovian shrug

[the mingo]

Hey, what are you doing? You can't buy bullets with food stamps, grandpa.

~ Milagro Beanfield War, John Nichols

That night with the thunder all around us and the birds up in the bloody fold with gov't saying they would renew the surface but all they did was patch - hey, I know, I was just through there and ain't nothing changed except for worse.

You can't convict the waves of sin nor the wind that pushes them.

The thunder has woken nobody. I'm going to buy a ring for the rain.