I have been trying to write this post several times now. How can I put it? Since I've been away from television, life has slowed down to a standstill. It's one of those moments where something feels like it ought to happen, but nothing does. I don't know. I can't even say what's going on. It's strange. It's as if something is falling away. Something old. Like the big, fiery demon that whips up and snags Gandolf's foot in the second Lord of the Rings. That's where I am right now. With Gandalf.

I didn't really want to be a white wizard. I haven't really wanted anything. That's the strange thing. I've never felt so empty of so many things. I don't want to write, draw, make music, work, take a hike, look around, nothing. I just sit there.

I'm sure I just have to accept it. I'm in this spot. That's it. I simply have to stop trying to understand it. Okay. You ready?

Um...do I have to?


You can try and figure it out forever.

That's what it feels like.


Aside from the strange emptiness and lack of motivation, I've been reading Kenji Yoshino's Covering. I've gotten 3/4 through, and now it doesn't hold much more for me. I just keep thinking about Martin Luther King Jr.. I see him giving a speech, and then I have to shut the book. It just starts sounding like talk, talk, talk...

My brain does enough of that.


Los Angeles has been lonely these days. Not much going on. I'm looking forward to Korea. It'll be nice to hang with a friend.


I'm listening to Cat Sevens right now. It's nice. I've painted many times to his voice.

I don't feel like painting though. Nothing.

It's 626PM. I have to tutor a kid at 7.


It's 628PM. Cat Stevens is still singing. I still have to tutor a kid at 7.


...A red legged chicken stands ready to strike
And everything's emptying into wine...

What does that mean?


The first time I made love to a woman, I put the condom on backwards and it broke.

The first time I got my heart broke, I listened to Dinosaur Jr. for one month straight and got severely depressed. She was pretty amazing. I still love her a little.

The first time I got mad was when my dad tried to teach me math.

The first time I listened to Cat Stevens I was in Boulder, Colorado sitting by myself.

The first time I got a dog I was happy. I had a friend. Then my dad took him away. He did this once more with another dog. Then I couldn't take having dogs anymore. Friends either. I got very suspicious someone would take them away too.

The last time I had sex I felt old and useless.

The last time I changed a tire I was in Philadelphia with 3 so-called friends. They helped me by standing around me in a semi-circle. I got the lug nut off, by standing on the wrench. It took me an hour. Watch out, Nascar.

The last time I had lunch with a friend they asked me if I was out of it.

The last time I turned a lunchbox into a rainbow, I was at Ben Franklin Elementary. It was an assembly. My lunch was weird to the kids at the table. It wasn't bologna. One of the boys traded me bologna to try it. He liked it a lot. He traded me from then on. That was fine with me. I liked bologna.

The birthday when I got knocked in the head with a golf club was my most memorable birthday. I wore a red Polo shirt, with Polo cologne, and I felt popular. Then I got knocked in the head with a golf club. I cried. Then I didn't feel popular anymore. I hid in the bathroom.

The funeral when Shikor was in the cardboard box was the hadest funeral I have ever been to. It made me mad when his dad told me that he smelled his shirt after he died. I almost asked him if he smelt it while he was still alive. I didn't go there though. I offered my condolences and hugged his mother.

The first time I smoked weed, nothing happened.

The first time I got acid, it was a joke. My so-called friends gave me a fake tab. Then they laughed, when I asked why nothing was happening. It made me feel popular yet again.

The next time I punch someone it won't be with my fists. It'll be a sentence that tastes like sugar.

I am a powdered donut. White on the outside, but it's just sugar. Shake it off and there you have me. Brown and crusty just like you imagined.

I am a menace to no one. I would like to say I was, but I know people will make that choice based on nothing that has to do with who I am. They will have heard of me. I talked to someone. I said this thing or that. I didn't though. I don't even remember. It will be that way to some. To others I will be the hero I see in me. I will be the light from an old Bic. It will burn the charcoal in your grill. You will turn a piece of meat and stare at my ashes.

The touch of a woman can make things stop for a moment. The touch of a man can do the same.

"It won't stop," Monty decided.

"Kiss me."

"It won't."

"And then?"


Now lets all start living for the one that's going to last.
Don't you feel the day is coming...

It's 652 PM. I have to go tutor. Bye.


JWG said...

My belly hurts. I feel a weight and am not sure its origins. Am trying to dig. No reason to play a blame game.

Winter is always a time of discomfort. The clothes are heavy. You have to dress like an astronaut to go outside. People turn the heater up too high. You have to dress down. The temp is never right.

My job is ok, but the living, come march, is not what was promised. I have some interviews in the next few days. Best gigs in korea. I should be excited. I have doubts. I don't know that I belong here. I don't know where I belong.

The poetry is really moving. I think I am doing the best work of my life. That is good. So why the pain? Why not rest and realization? I am only working 12 hours per week. Give me a break, life is easy. So where is this coming from?

I think the problem is that everything is up in the air. That is just the way it is. The transience of life is very apparent. The Nuke makes it so. I think I feel it more than I should. When I watch scary movies I try to scare myself even more. I am doing that now. I can't stop. I think about the bomb. I think about life without my love. I think about the reality of emptiness and I am frightened. I want to be brave. I want to drink beer and fuck. I want to be more alive.

This is not a problem of meditation. It is not that the mind is loose, just that the mind is not ready to accept what we have here.

Pirooz is coming to Korea soon. I miss him. I want him here. I want to talk. Yes, I want to talk. I want to talk to a man I love. I think that is it. I miss having male friends. I have not had a good man talk in months. I need that. I think the centering will come with that. I am too in touch with my emotions.

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

We will talk.


i don't know what to say here. but, i'm going to dive in. there is this momentum that we all have, a certain breathing. sometimes we catch ourselves on the exhale and everything feels all blown out.

the mind tricks the body into thinking it will live forever. the body believes the mind. They are like dirty thieving lovers in this way.

we are lucky to have this sort of capability. this dualism. this trash. now we just have to grow old with it.

lets go get a pizza.

JWG said...

and now that looks like it was written by my double. where do these things come from? why don't I feel ANY of that now? ebs and flows. there was something there, but it is gone or is at least asleep

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

i would say it's not even there in the first place. it's just a question of internal versus external.

there are lots of things outside ourselves. they say get this house, this car, this wife.

but you are not your beautiful house. you are not your beautiful car. you are not your beautiful wife.

david byrne had it right. it's the secret that pulls you away from any duality.

what's going on inside? can you hear that? feel that?

it's easy for me when i do art. that moment when i'm playing in front of an audience. things fall away. it's not about fortune and glory. it's not about words. it's just doing.

that's why i love to create.

when i paint, write, sing, i touch it. that internal.

it's there in life too.

i'm just trying to live my life like my art.

sometimes i get life block.

writer's block is then the innocent bystander.

neither of these is true though. it's just me. me not being grateful for what i have.

two great friends burning through the cosmos.

i love you both.