STRUNG OUT!

Like most of us, I can’t sing. But I don’t let that stop me. Whenever I’m driving, I’m singing. My car is my studio. That’s where I let loose and hope someone somewhere can hear. Something somewhere is listening.

I think that we’re all hoping sometimes that someone is listening, that someone hears us, even if we aren't speaking out loud, even if we aren't writing it all down. We’re hoping that someday, at the end of our life, we’ll be able to sit down with them and they can say, “Well, most of this was good, and most of this was bad.” And it’s not going to matter which one there was more of, because it was you and you were living it, breathing it, and saying it. Maybe at the end, we won’t look back at ourselves, then wonder how far up the ladder of life we climbed. We won’t wonder if we made it to the top or got as far as we could have. You’ll just see a long line strung out behind you, stretching as far as you can see. Hopefully you’ll look back at that line, turn to me, and say, “You see that? You see how far I traveled to get here? To get to NOW. That’s me back there.” Then I’ll look back there and see where my line crosses yours. I’ll say, “Yep, there’s where you saw me singing in the car.”

Then I’ll roll up my sleeves and pull in that line. I’ll get it tangled and I’ll wad it up and stick it in my pocket. I’d like to tell you that I would send you a smile, tip my hat, and walk off into the sunset. But I’ll probably just shrug. “That’s it I guess?”, my expression might say.

Because the point of it isn’t to go out with a pretend smile on your face. It’s just to go out knowing you have something worthwhile in your pocket, even if it is just a ball of string.

Investing in LOVE.

LOVE can be a lot like water. It sustains us, nurtures us, allows us to be more flexible and shows us our own reflection. Anyone can easily get their hands wet in LOVE, but not too many people can just reach in and pick it up. To hold LOVE, one needs to find a place or create a space for it. LOVE needs a sturdy vessel to rest in. In this place, LOVE can be carried and brought anywhere, but if it’s dropped, tipped over, or the “vessel” is cracked, you may find that LOVE flows away.

Look at all the things we “invest” our time and energy into daily. Very literally, it can be money for our retirement, but it can also be the energy we put into our careers, building or buying new toys, ect… We invest in our health through diet and exercise. We invest in our minds through reading, study, the types of TV programs, movies, or documentaries we watch, our friends through social activity. But what about LOVE? What have you done for your loved one(s) today? Over a number of relationships, I’ve realized that we’re constantly brainwashing or reprogramming ourselves in some way right. So how do you want to do it?

You “fell” in love with this person, didn't you? When or what was the last thing you did to really show your appreciation? It’s the little things that count, and it’s not just doing the dishes, or making the bed. It’s the note you leave on the bed for your partner to find. It’s the way you roll over in the morning and whisper in their ear that you love them. It’s the flowers you give for no specific reason. It’s the little things that count. I decided a long time to make sure that with any lover I had, I would invest in that love daily. Some small things to show my love, and it’s always made me dive deeper into that relationship. So… What have you done to invest in your love today?

The Hardest of Time

In the Hardest of Time, we are tested in all of our “merits” as our “flaws” are rubbed like salt in a wound. It’s at these moments when sometimes we may feel as if we are not fulfilling ourselves, not meeting our own standards of ourselves, or falling short of who we truly are.

This is not entirely true. After all, how can I not be myself? When we are tested by the pains of circumstance and burned short at both ends, sometimes we get desperate. Desperate for a way out; desperate for a change; anxious, impatient, and intolerant. Maybe the opposite of those are not our strongest or most refined skills, but they are undeniable skills.

Like the 10 year old boy, or the 80 year old grandmother, they may appear to be physically feeble, and unable to lift even 30 lbs. over their heads, yet in desperate times, they may be very capable indeed. So, if people have the ability to channel all of their power into their delicate body to do extraordinary things when the going gets rough….

Maybe you can learn to be more patient in times when patience is asked of you.

Maybe you can learn to be more giving when others take from you.

Maybe you can learn to be more tolerant even under the most intolerant of circumstances.

And maybe you will find something great within yourself, something that you never really knew was there.

Settling the Particles and the Waves

I sometimes envision my thought as if they were different sized bits of sand, and my mind, water in some vessel. Particles of "thought" flow through the currents of the active "mind". The more the mind races, the more chaotic the thoughts are and the murkier the water is.

As my mind calms, I feel the velocity of the water slow, and I watch the sand settle behind my eyes. As the water stops, I realize that I am not my thoughts, these are things that I picked up along the way. And when I let them settle, I have clarity. There is no glass; there is no sand. I am not the river, nor am I the sea. I am more than a single drop. I am a piece of the great ocean, yet the great ocean I am not. I have no boundary, except I find myself contained only when I find myself surrounded in these "thoughts".

Lucid Nectar

Sun light, star bright, alternate day and night.
Love, hate, changing by fate.
Dancing, glancing, enhancing.
Take risk, sweet kiss, never ending bliss. 

What is "Marketing"?

You see a gorgeous man at a party. You go up to him and say, “I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Direct Marketing.

You’re at a party with a bunch of friends and see a gorgeous man. One of your friends goes up to him, pointing at you and says, “She’s fantastic in bed.” That’s Advertising.

You see a gorgeous man at a party. You go up to him and get his telephone number. The next day, you call and say,  “Hi, I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Telemarketing.

You’re at a party and see a gorgeous man. You put on your lipstick, fix your hair, straighten your bra. You walk up to him and offer a beer. You start an excellent conversation, make him laugh, and then say, “By the way, I’m fantastic in bed.” That’s Public Relations.

You’re at a party and see a gorgeous man. He walks up to you and says, “I hear you’re fantastic in bed.” That’s Brand-Recognition. 

I’m used to be that person who wasn't a huge fan of long walks – not  for any particular reason other than I didn't walk far enough to enjoy it. I was well aware of the merits and benefits of walking and general locomotion, but lately, I've been taking walks with my soul, just to think out loud and clear my thoughts. These days I have so much on my mind, so many things I need to express, and so few avenues to accomplish this. It’s very gratifying to have to whole sky and earth to vent to, to let the heat of the summer eviscerate your words and general dysphonia.  

There is something about walking that lends some clarity, something that animates the senses. You could set out walking to construct some theory to figure out the meaning of this life, but to have the sun and air and gentle green of the earth reassure you, there is no reason but to be. You set out for some answers to find that perhaps you didn't have the questions right. You begin to think that perhaps some things are not meant to be known and understood but just to be embraced, or at the very least, accepted. When you go walking, wandering aimlessly with no destination, you’re taken from the shallow enclave of your stronghold, where self-righteousness and convictions are your walls to find them stripped or battered by the maelstrom of this world.

To find my answers, I may have to walk to the end of this Earth. And then, I’m not so sure I’ll have more answers than questions.

Vomit may never taste the same again.

The world is running out of Tequila. I love Tequila, and I'm not going to take all the blame.

The Mexican cactus booze has been in trouble for the last couple of years, and high demand and diseased crops have seriously threatened its supply in the past. But now, we might actually be looking at a possible eradication of tequila as a worldwide commodity.

Half of a decade ago, the Bush administration introduced new regulations to begin substituting gasoline with bio-fuels made from corn-based ethanol, the idea being to ease America's dependency on foreign oil. One side effect was that ethanol prices skyrocketed to the point that farmers in Mexico started abandoning their old crops in favor of corn to ship off to the United States.

Unfortunately, this included destroying crops of agave cactus (from which tequila is made) by setting them on fire, because that's how they roll in Mexico.

But whatever -- we can just plant more of that cacti, right? About that, you see, the blue agave cactus is what you would call the Chinese panda of the plant world, in that it's insanely particular about how it reproduces. It's prone to diseases and will grow only in a very specific climate: on very high altitudes and preferably in red volcanic soil. This pretty much confines it to the Mexican state of Jalisco and surrounding areas, the only places in the entire world where Mexican law allows for the production of "tequila", a name to which Mexico holds exclusive rights.

In 2012, Mexican farmers planted 30 percent less agave than in the previous years, and the remaining cacti were given the red-headed stepchild treatment: mistreated and generally ignored, causing global tequila production to drop significantly. Basically, when one region of Mexico goes sober, the entire world gets the tequila shakes.

Here's the best part: Tequila is made by removing the fructose at the core of the plant in its 12th year. So basically, if they're replanted tomorrow, you might have enough for one very basic crop in 2025, assuming the plants aren't harmed by diseases, weird weather patterns, or anything else in the next dozen or so years. In short, you might want to start developing a taste for wine coolers.

In Time...

Everybody's heart has a certain number of beats in it. I think we all get that. The watches on our wrists an the clocks on our phones are there to remind us even when we try to forget. But what surprises me is how people don't get that every heart has a certain amount that it's going to take to fill it up.

Time makes sense to us. We sit around with the understanding that every second ticks away and doesn't come back . But all that while so many of us don't want to admit that there is this vast chamber in our heart that's never been full. They never take the hint. That emptiness might not mean there's something wrong. That emptiness just means there's something more.

There's more. I'll keep looking for it. You'll keep logging on. I'll send a little beacon out past where I know. Past where I know, but off to some place i'm sure is there. Probably the same place these words go every time I click that little, yellow publish button. But there are only so many ticks. And I'm wiling to take that chance. 

I'll have an appetite!

Don't be afraid to let something take you. Stand up. Admit you're not special, nor perfect. Realize when you've lost something great and don't ever forget when you won something because you fought for it. You can come here day after day. You can watch TV shows every day of the week, but the only thing it's going to do is to numb you.

If you spend enough days sitting there, letting all the stimulation run you and convince yourself that it's alright not to feel, that it's fine not to get worked up and there's no reason to stress, you'll probably live longer. You can sit there in your rocking chair when you're 87, thinking of all the places you still want to go and reading my obituary. Our obituaries. Of all those people who died 10 years before you because they often stressed out and got worked up. They stared others down ferociously; they let their hormones get the best of them while drinking Pepto-Bismol by the bottle to handle those stomach stress pains. They let themselves live on the edge, even though they were peeing their pants.

There's a fire growing in my belly. A real fire. The kind that makes you want to give up everything you have for something you love, for something you believe in.

Ferocious. I want to be ferocious. I want to narrow my eyes into slits, grit my teeth, and tighten my stomach while moving like a tiger. When people see me, I want them to go: "Whoa, where did that come from?" - "From my belly", I'll tell them.

That's where everything you want coming from. It's the center of desire. You think it's a coincidence that the place you feel hunger is the same place you feel your fucking fear? Not a coincidence at all.

The next time someone tells you to just be happy with what you've got, smack them across their ordinary face. Love your life. Fill it up. Never stop filling it up. Fill it up with everything that's significant and a couple things that aren't, just for some contrast. Let stuff go (make sure it's important stuff). Let it hurt when it's gone. Let it cut a nasty hole in your life. Then patch it up in a sloppy way and keep on going. Don't ever be full. Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up and my stomach isn't going to grow; it's going to roar. I will feel something that I haven't felt in a long time. I'm going to feel empty, but empty with an appetite. And God be with anyone who gets between me and my meal.