A week later I was alone, in an orange and black stripped lawn chair in the woods near this river in El Salvador. A little black bird flew up from beyond the bluff i was on, and it perched in the tree next to me. The tree was less than 3 feet away, no bid deal. Right? Maybe. But then there was another bird. Then two by two. four by four. six by six. Until there were at least, and here is were I keep reminding myself that I am not exaggerating, 100 of these little black bastards. They looked like finches. I wonder if finches can be black. So many black finches that there was no space left on the tree's limbs for any more. So before I ran away in fear, I had that perfect moment; fear, elation, pride (maybe i'd willed them there?), joy, confusion, ect. My mind was absolutely tabula rasa, but I felt every emotion i'd ever imagined. Raw feeling in the gut, but not the gut. Feeling full and empty. Beyond my definition of reality. Then the moment was gone and so was I.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
a dream image of a perfect moment.
Once when i was about 12 I'd been having a dream that involved an ever expanding bedroom - I was laying in the bed in the dream- and a tree, and birds, and it was absolutely insane. I'd been having the dream for at least 2 years.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Brave palestinian girl VS Israel Soldiers
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OOjf9u4UaQ0&eurl=http://bulletins.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=bulletin.read&authorID=25228379&messageID=6287675954&MyTokeniurl=http://i4.ytimg.com/vi/OOjf9u4UaQ0/hqdefault.jpg
The American media coverage I've seen on this conflict has always been bad... always... but over the past two weeks it may actually be the worst that it's ever been. Literally all I've seen has been footage of U.S. congressmen talking about how Israel has "no other choice", countless historic perversions explaining only one side of the story (manufactured consent), and yet more ranting about those heartless Palestinians and their Qassam rockets. Well, let's hear a little more about thoserocket attacks from Wikipedia... "From 2001 when the missile attacks started until April 27, 2008, 13 Israelis were killed by Qassam rockets. During this time, for everyIsraeli killed by Qassam rockets, about 100 Palestinians have been killed by Israel." Where can we go to hear about this? The foreign press, or at least some of it. Indymedia even more so. How many of us actually seek out these media outlets? Not many. Seriously, though, ideologies aside (the flavor of fascism lite that kinda tastes like democracy vs. the new brand of diet fascism that kinda resembles anti-colonial populism), let's get some realistic press coverage. Let's see the truth about who really dies in these wars,on either side. Unfortunately, all too often it's a case of soldiers killing civilians who have jack shit to do with the conflict. Ultimately, in this situation as with any, we cannot trust the institution of the state to be the guiding force of reason, as states only act in the interest of those who profit from them (we can get into who is actually profiting from this if you'd like to talk to me regarding that specific subject)So what do we do if Hamas and the state of Israel both ignore the value of human life? We must engage in dissent, both in the organized sense of everyday direct action, and in the spontaneous sense of literally standing in the way of a wrong doing as it happens. Most of us won't have the opportunity to the latter, and this woman was unfortunate enough to have faced that situation. So, in the name of peace, and in the name of our own survival, we and others who feel the same as us must always do our part when we see this kinda shit. If a cop is beating or harrassing someone in your city, do something about it (start by asking for hisbadge number, then consider calling your local chapter of cop watch). If you're pissed off about how our government is funding what many consider to be a genocide against the palestinian people (let alone our financial and political entanglements in East Africa, Latin America,etc.) then make some noise. Organize. Let those fuckers know you're pissed about tax money going towards buying helicopters that shoot into Palestinian apartmentcomplexes, about it going to seedy ass corporate CEO's who are eager to privatize profit and socialize risk, to any unjust occupation anywhere in the name of American hegemony. We need to form networks, get people together. We need to spread information better. This is the fucking internet. Let's post up articles, videos, resources, zines, whatever. Let's be the counter to the media machine that has failed us too many times. It may not be a matter of survival for us now, but if we don't learn how to do it now, then we'll be trully fucked when/if the shit really does hit the fan. Right now, we are the grass, they are the elephants.
"When two elephants are fighting, the grass dem asuffer"
- The Refugee Allstars of Sierra Leone
The American media coverage I've seen on this conflict has always been bad... always... but over the past two weeks it may actually be the worst that it's ever been. Literally all I've seen has been footage of U.S. congressmen talking about how Israel has "no other choice", countless historic perversions explaining only one side of the story (manufactured consent), and yet more ranting about those heartless Palestinians and their Qassam rockets. Well, let's hear a little more about thoserocket attacks from Wikipedia... "From 2001 when the missile attacks started until April 27, 2008, 13 Israelis were killed by Qassam rockets. During this time, for everyIsraeli killed by Qassam rockets, about 100 Palestinians have been killed by Israel." Where can we go to hear about this? The foreign press, or at least some of it. Indymedia even more so. How many of us actually seek out these media outlets? Not many. Seriously, though, ideologies aside (the flavor of fascism lite that kinda tastes like democracy vs. the new brand of diet fascism that kinda resembles anti-colonial populism), let's get some realistic press coverage. Let's see the truth about who really dies in these wars,on either side. Unfortunately, all too often it's a case of soldiers killing civilians who have jack shit to do with the conflict. Ultimately, in this situation as with any, we cannot trust the institution of the state to be the guiding force of reason, as states only act in the interest of those who profit from them (we can get into who is actually profiting from this if you'd like to talk to me regarding that specific subject)So what do we do if Hamas and the state of Israel both ignore the value of human life? We must engage in dissent, both in the organized sense of everyday direct action, and in the spontaneous sense of literally standing in the way of a wrong doing as it happens. Most of us won't have the opportunity to the latter, and this woman was unfortunate enough to have faced that situation. So, in the name of peace, and in the name of our own survival, we and others who feel the same as us must always do our part when we see this kinda shit. If a cop is beating or harrassing someone in your city, do something about it (start by asking for hisbadge number, then consider calling your local chapter of cop watch). If you're pissed off about how our government is funding what many consider to be a genocide against the palestinian people (let alone our financial and political entanglements in East Africa, Latin America,etc.) then make some noise. Organize. Let those fuckers know you're pissed about tax money going towards buying helicopters that shoot into Palestinian apartmentcomplexes, about it going to seedy ass corporate CEO's who are eager to privatize profit and socialize risk, to any unjust occupation anywhere in the name of American hegemony. We need to form networks, get people together. We need to spread information better. This is the fucking internet. Let's post up articles, videos, resources, zines, whatever. Let's be the counter to the media machine that has failed us too many times. It may not be a matter of survival for us now, but if we don't learn how to do it now, then we'll be trully fucked when/if the shit really does hit the fan. Right now, we are the grass, they are the elephants.
"When two elephants are fighting, the grass dem asuffer"
- The Refugee Allstars of Sierra Leone
Monday, November 17, 2008
ecology (a perfect moment)
i know your fragile. your bound to self-destruct. my love is a lot like yours, its been crippled by the wars we have waged in our head for so many years. a burnt out halo hangs from above your head, and the stars know that your trying to hard, that's why they shine, there trying to show you the way. always hoping for more then just another kiss goodnight. but just smile, i want you happy.
a) do you love me.
b) you know i love you.
a) no, i mean really love me. do you love me to death?
b) ...no.
a) ...
b) but i would die if you left.
a) do you love me.
b) you know i love you.
a) no, i mean really love me. do you love me to death?
b) ...no.
a) ...
b) but i would die if you left.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
asilverliningthatshinesonlyforyou
weightlessandtravelingthroughspaceirememberhervoicebutnotherface.everytimeihearhervoiceiask "wheredidyouhideallthosedayswewast?"shesalwaysnearandshewantstostaybutiknowthatshecantstayhere.
hervoiceisfading
butihearherstill
she'll always be
hervoiceisfading
butihearherstill
she'll always be
Monday, November 10, 2008
a small thought on PROP 8
(this Saturday i found myself in a protest against prop 8. it was in Hollywood and there were over a hundred police vehicle and a few police buses and a helicopter overhead. i wasn't expecting the swat team.)
many people believe that Prop 8 is about gay rights and gay rights only. well its not. Prop 8 is about discrimination and changing California's constitution in order to discriminate against people who are homosexuals. the religious right says that they fight this "good" fight to protect the institution of marriage. well, if that is true then why don't we change California's constitution and ban divorce. Marriage covenant is a covenant of love, since God is love (John 4:8), it is a covenant of God. No one therefore, can put aside the covenant (Matt 19:6). Divorce therefore, goes directly against God; and those who remarry after divorce are committing adultery (Luke 16:18). so the question now is, are you really protecting the institution of marriage or are you just being a bigot.
oh snap! (Kid S. 2:3)
many people believe that Prop 8 is about gay rights and gay rights only. well its not. Prop 8 is about discrimination and changing California's constitution in order to discriminate against people who are homosexuals. the religious right says that they fight this "good" fight to protect the institution of marriage. well, if that is true then why don't we change California's constitution and ban divorce. Marriage covenant is a covenant of love, since God is love (John 4:8), it is a covenant of God. No one therefore, can put aside the covenant (Matt 19:6). Divorce therefore, goes directly against God; and those who remarry after divorce are committing adultery (Luke 16:18). so the question now is, are you really protecting the institution of marriage or are you just being a bigot.
oh snap! (Kid S. 2:3)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
the election
After work i went to my polling place and casted my vote. I then went with a few friends to a last obama rally then we quickly went to another friends house were we watched the television set with the gaze of a five year old watching his favorite cartoon show. Then it happened, "Barack Obama has won the election, congratulations to our 44th president." at that moment i couldn't hold back, i let out a joyous yell of celebration and tears (yes I actually cried a little) soon followed. The joy i felt at that time and still do, is beyond words for me. I have tried so hard to get friends and family to support a man i truly believe in and I have been at the rallies and even did a silk-screening workshop solely to spreed the message of peace and the hope of seeing Obama as our future president. This is truly amazing when you consider that never before in our history has an avowed anti-war candidate been elected president during a time of war. The tides of change are here and they are strong. The presidency is now in the hands of a man who refused to sling the mud back to his opponents after all the names and scare tactics they used against him, and he marched on with grace, dignity, and the goodness we all can see. The presidency is now in the hands of a man, who will hopefully not forget what made him win the hearts of a nation and this election. Oh, and lets not forget, we saw history being made. A black man has triumphed, and is now the president of this great country. Hopefully he can fix the great deal of damage that the Republicans have caused in the past eight years of tyranny. its kinda funny really, the last Democrat in the oval office left with a 200 billion dollar surplus. the republican before him left office with a 300 billion dollar deficit. our last president will be leaving the oval office with a 482 billion dollar deficit. kinda makes you think who really is the "tax and spend liberal."
-kid S.
-kid S.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
realized connections. (time waster)
life is an independent video, shot by an idiot, full of sound and fury. Signifying nothing.
it originated in Hamlet, which blessed the world with a plethora of amazing quotes and pithy observations on life. Faulkner became smitten and stole one of the lines in the play and used It as the title to his great masterpiece The sound and the fury and then some weird little art house freaks picked it up and used that as the description of their upcoming movie and then this idiot used it to waste time until his Russian arrives for their lunch date. until then this idiot shall drink his coffee and write more about nothing.
it originated in Hamlet, which blessed the world with a plethora of amazing quotes and pithy observations on life. Faulkner became smitten and stole one of the lines in the play and used It as the title to his great masterpiece The sound and the fury and then some weird little art house freaks picked it up and used that as the description of their upcoming movie and then this idiot used it to waste time until his Russian arrives for their lunch date. until then this idiot shall drink his coffee and write more about nothing.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
trash
Its all a dream I keep telling myself.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.
So all of this pain makes no difference.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.
But its not a dream
everyone keeps telling me;
Time will take care of all of this.
I just want to kill the night.
I take a deep breath and feel the air in my chest,
And the warm blood in my veins.
but i still feel dead.
it makes no difference.
all my words will never be heard.
my words are land mines in my own mind.
theres to many questions and not enough answers.
so i tell you all my intimate secrets and fears
when you lay under the warm embrace of sleep.
i tell you everything i wish i had the courage to tell you
when you are awake.
Soon the sun will rise.
And all I have done is seen you sleep.
I just need to close my eyes.
Is it worth me trying?
That’s what I keep asking myself.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.
So all of this pain makes no difference.
Tomorrow I’ll wake.
But its not a dream
everyone keeps telling me;
Time will take care of all of this.
I just want to kill the night.
I take a deep breath and feel the air in my chest,
And the warm blood in my veins.
but i still feel dead.
it makes no difference.
all my words will never be heard.
my words are land mines in my own mind.
theres to many questions and not enough answers.
so i tell you all my intimate secrets and fears
when you lay under the warm embrace of sleep.
i tell you everything i wish i had the courage to tell you
when you are awake.
Soon the sun will rise.
And all I have done is seen you sleep.
I just need to close my eyes.
Is it worth me trying?
That’s what I keep asking myself.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
there are certain colors in the stained glass window that are dull
in those dull colors light peeks through
the light of the universe.
let go.
hold on.
remember why.
hold on tighter.
but wait, here is a thought for you
when you close your eyes,
do you die?
or does the world?
and when you open your eyes
who is born again?
perfection is rare
but there are few who have it
and even fewer who are able to hold on to it
perfection is fleeting.
many things in this world are fleeting
this soul is fleeting
will you notice ?
once its...
in those dull colors light peeks through
the light of the universe.
let go.
hold on.
remember why.
hold on tighter.
but wait, here is a thought for you
when you close your eyes,
do you die?
or does the world?
and when you open your eyes
who is born again?
perfection is rare
but there are few who have it
and even fewer who are able to hold on to it
perfection is fleeting.
many things in this world are fleeting
this soul is fleeting
will you notice ?
once its...
The lonely moon
will you lend me your fathers small fishing boat?
yes, of course i will. but why do you need it?
i need it in order to sail out to where the moon is closest to the ocean.
and why would you want to sail to such a silly place?
im going to lasso the lonely moon...for you. then i can take us both up there where we could have a lovely picnic, and i will grab some moon flowers for you. then maybe i can tell you everything. tell you how my heart longs for you. tell you that everything i want i found in your eyes. then will climb back down, sail back to shore and go our seperete ways untill the next time. i lasso the moon... for you. and who knows... maybe one day will be married, and everytime the day turns inside out to revel the stars...we can look up to where we first feel in love
the innocent words of the boy touched the young girls heart so much that she lent her fathers fishing boat to the boy. she told him that he would never find where the moon meets the ocean for many people have tried before and failed. but the young boy was sure he could find it. he had to try. for this is the only way he thought she would ever be able to love him. he didnt have to many possessions in this world and the meager one's he had he couldn't give to such an angel who stepped out of a dream. the boy knew well that she could never really love him the way he loved her. but as long as she would spend one day with him on the lonely moon... he would be able to die happy in his paupers grave. so off he went and he promised her that he would return as soon as he found the lonely moon.
many years went by and no one had heard from the boy. many simply assumed that he was lost at sea or simply died in his own ocean of emotions. the once young girl had grown old and her memory of the boy had faded long ago until one day when she was walking near the shore that she noticed a small boat that her granddaughter had pointed out to her. there it was, her fathers old fishing boat, beaten and withered by time it looked like an ancient relic from another world. there she stood for a good time looking at her childhood summed up in the form of a small fishing boat. her granddaughter walked up to it and then called for her grandmother.
she walked up to the ancient relic and began to shed soft tears for what she saw. inside the boat was a single flower.. a single flower from the lonely moon.
yes, of course i will. but why do you need it?
i need it in order to sail out to where the moon is closest to the ocean.
and why would you want to sail to such a silly place?
im going to lasso the lonely moon...for you. then i can take us both up there where we could have a lovely picnic, and i will grab some moon flowers for you. then maybe i can tell you everything. tell you how my heart longs for you. tell you that everything i want i found in your eyes. then will climb back down, sail back to shore and go our seperete ways untill the next time. i lasso the moon... for you. and who knows... maybe one day will be married, and everytime the day turns inside out to revel the stars...we can look up to where we first feel in love
the innocent words of the boy touched the young girls heart so much that she lent her fathers fishing boat to the boy. she told him that he would never find where the moon meets the ocean for many people have tried before and failed. but the young boy was sure he could find it. he had to try. for this is the only way he thought she would ever be able to love him. he didnt have to many possessions in this world and the meager one's he had he couldn't give to such an angel who stepped out of a dream. the boy knew well that she could never really love him the way he loved her. but as long as she would spend one day with him on the lonely moon... he would be able to die happy in his paupers grave. so off he went and he promised her that he would return as soon as he found the lonely moon.
many years went by and no one had heard from the boy. many simply assumed that he was lost at sea or simply died in his own ocean of emotions. the once young girl had grown old and her memory of the boy had faded long ago until one day when she was walking near the shore that she noticed a small boat that her granddaughter had pointed out to her. there it was, her fathers old fishing boat, beaten and withered by time it looked like an ancient relic from another world. there she stood for a good time looking at her childhood summed up in the form of a small fishing boat. her granddaughter walked up to it and then called for her grandmother.
she walked up to the ancient relic and began to shed soft tears for what she saw. inside the boat was a single flower.. a single flower from the lonely moon.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
liquid sunshine and the foolish moon
breath in the fire.
pour in the sunshine.
and let the moon make fools.
oh how i adored my intoxicated state. falling asleep at 4 in the morning with my beautiful Russian lover who hates me only to wake up next to her around eight to begin drinking Holden's favorite drink and falling madly in love with her all over again. sigh. to tired to write.
pour in the sunshine.
and let the moon make fools.
oh how i adored my intoxicated state. falling asleep at 4 in the morning with my beautiful Russian lover who hates me only to wake up next to her around eight to begin drinking Holden's favorite drink and falling madly in love with her all over again. sigh. to tired to write.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
el districto de los perros
there might be some misspelling.
te envié este mensaje porque sé que consegistes mi mensaje de mi corazon solo y lo ignorantes. te envié un mensaje ayer, "que sucedido" yo mi dije, pero tu estabas muy acupada mensajería todos otro incluso para decir hola. oh cómo mi corazón sangra. ¿usted no ama's la vida poética?
te envié este mensaje porque sé que consegistes mi mensaje de mi corazon solo y lo ignorantes. te envié un mensaje ayer, "que sucedido" yo mi dije, pero tu estabas muy acupada mensajería todos otro incluso para decir hola. oh cómo mi corazón sangra. ¿usted no ama's la vida poética?
Monday, March 3, 2008
...
life is a lot like "The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams, if you spend to much time dwelling on the meaning, you miss the entire metaphor. You cant dwell upon it or else all you get is frustrated. Sometimes we just have to stop for a moment, and not overlook the red wheel barrel. Just stop and be in the moment.
Friday, February 29, 2008
A moment in time
I keep having this recurring memory. I think about my date with ******. We were going to have a picnic, and I was lucky enough to have found a picnic kit, it came with everything you would need. A basket, knifes, forks, spoons, salt and pepper, and of course the red checkered blanket. I told her I was going to cook us a wonderful lunch, instead I just went to a local market and bought warm sandwiches and things very similar to that. But the memory I keep having is of her and myself dancing. We were at the L.A. river where we were having our picnic and I keep seeing her so happy and dancing in her brand new dress playing with the warm summer breeze that day. Everything was perfect. Though I wonder, how much of this memory is real. Oh to be lost in teenage love again. I miss the burn. But more then anything, I miss being lost in a moment that at the time I thought was just another average day. Amazing.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
a poem dedicated to SAMO ^^^
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Die soon.
-Gwendolyn Brooks
a thank you note
love is such a wonderful serendipitous little thing, but this is not what i want to write about today. i want to write a small thank you note to an angel who stepped out of an old familiar dream i had many years ago. recently i have been having a difficult time dealing with my problems and being alone in general. well i told all my feelings to ****** and she cleared her day and even put a new important person in her life on hold just to be with me and comfort me. the night was absolutely wonderful, i don't remember how long its been since i laughed so much and had a good time, our smiles were almost contagious.
the rush of life at that moment seemed to slow down and no longer did i feel my heart as heavy as a stone.
the night was wonderful, liquid sunshine was had by all, Jupiter went up in flames, and the fire we were breathing made me feel a comfort i thought i lost.
so if your reading this ******, thank you so fucking much. iloveya.
the rush of life at that moment seemed to slow down and no longer did i feel my heart as heavy as a stone.
the night was wonderful, liquid sunshine was had by all, Jupiter went up in flames, and the fire we were breathing made me feel a comfort i thought i lost.
so if your reading this ******, thank you so fucking much. iloveya.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
the biggest paradox of philosophy
the biggest paradox of philosophy is that if it ever achieved irrefutable meaning by solving its almost seemingly endless problems, it would cease to exit. nothing more to debate, nothing more to ponder, it would deliver a complete self-evident "system," here and now. the true end of philosophy is the end of philosophy i.e. solving the questions that makes us wonder. then again, i can be wrong. whatever.
a small thought on youth
i miss playing with invisible monsters. i think once you stop doing that, your imagination dies just a little. your imagination is never as pure as when your young, and that is beautiful.
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