This Side of the City

cycle

2009-02-25T19:33:00.006-05:00

One era comes to an end today and another begins. It's nothing dramatic, simply a change of scene, a change of style. The morning job has placed me on its work-from-home program, along with several other people from my department at the office. Overall, it is a positive transition. I no longer have to drag my sleep-deprived self out of bed at 5:15 a.m. My shift still begins at 7:00, but because I can avoid the too-early subway commute, I get an extra hour of sleep. No more of that hike to the train while the rest of the world still slumbers or is just awakening. I also leave behind an extant artifact of my past now relegated to the archives of my personal history.

I will miss many of my coworkers. These are solid people. Good people. Chance and circumstance caused our lives to cross. People come, they go, and some stay. There are instances when a few become friends. I will definitely see these friends again (and again) and they will remain a part of my life. I admit I have my foibles and peculiarities, as do we all. I do have self-esteem and confidence to spare. But I don't like to lose. I can be temperamental and impatient, brash and cocky. I can speak before I think. But I am generous, compassionate, irrepressible, and loyal. And when I make a friend - a true friend - I consider it to be planted and unbreakable. If there ever was a Leo... it's me. That's one reason why when someone wrongs me, it cuts so deeply that it is hard to forget and even more difficult to forgive. However, another one of my positive qualities is my ability to, eventually, forgive. It can be a long and thorny path to navigate, but I find my way. Clarity arrives. Acrimony, spite, and a destructive desire for retribution are abated, extracted, eliminated. I do not want that burden. I only want peace, but too frequently, the collision and conflict of thoughts and perceived needs obfuscate my vision and I lose the direction to some degree of inner harmony. I see it through. The inner moral compass guides me back. Oh, how it can be a long journey to the end of the night.

So, the journey continues as I embark on a new era, of sorts. And what are our lives if not a minuscule series of eras that dovetail into each other, creating the entirety of our existence? One experience meshes into the next, and if we're fortunate, we learn from the past, whether that past was rife with mistake or triumph. I move forward through this curious, often quaint, sometimes painful, and occasionally glorious life.

We traverse the circle and we take the cycle to its end.

inaugural

2009-01-20T21:14:00.001-05:00

The scene in Times Square today for Obama's inauguration:

Photos taken by Me with a Motorola K-RZR K1M mobile from a 4th floor window.

found

2008-12-01T18:36:00.002-05:00

I paid a holiday visit to upstate New York, dazzlingly cold and chillingly desolate. The photocopied photograph below was tacked to a bulletin board outside a grocery store...

It appears to be from decades past - people out of time and frozen in a moment like some kind of anachronism and with no identity. Just... there... with the word "Found" scrawled at the top in Sharpie without any contact information. This tiny idiosyncrasy struck me as bizarre, a little amusing, and even slightly eerie.

Found.

pace

2008-11-21T07:28:00.002-05:00

Pace Is the Essence
by Charles Bukowski

as the mailman walked up the hill
he laughed
when he saw me.
I laughed too.
"yeah, Harry, I know:
just an old man with a hose
watering the parkway.
you got me..."

those guys think it's got to be
war
all the time.
I'm just taking a
rest.
when I finally press that red
button
they'll wish I was
back watering the
gladiolas.

vote!

2008-10-19T20:40:00.000-04:00

topical

2008-09-30T22:30:00.000-04:00

Things I like:

1) laughter among loyal friends and late nights out

2) half-day Fridays

3) Mad Men, Dexter, Spaced (worthwhile, thought-provoking television)

4) the new Metallica (finally, after a twenty year wait, an album worthy of their name)

5) a seat on the subway at 6:10am

6) my Ben Sherman shirts

7) integrity and dignity when faced with the duplicitous and insincere

8) intelligent discourse (college degree not required)

9) writing

10) reading good writing

11) cheesy, but fun, movies that go well with a hangover (Death Race, Shoot 'Em Up, The Ultimate Warrior, Hawk the Slayer, Crank, etc.)

12) the recent Nine Inch Nails album "The Slip" (a free download - thanks, Trent)

13) Arlene's Grocery for local music in an intimate setting ("God Save Queens" last Saturday)

olio

2008-09-01T15:56:00.001-04:00

Raindrops on roses
Happy Disney animals
This makes my parts hurt
– Chuck Palahniuk

Many thanks to Chuck for the haiku. There's an author I haven't read in a few years. The last book I checked out was "Haunted," and I enjoyed it regardless of some over-the-top shock value content. Since then, Palahniuk has put out a couple more novels ("Rant" and "Snuff"). Maybe I'll get to them someday. I've been catching up with posthumous Charles Bukowski works, and I have a masochistic desire to read "Ulysses" by James Joyce again. So much to read, so little time.

I keep a journal on my computer. People sometimes ask why it's not handwritten. Well, typing it does not make it less personal. Plus, when I got my first computer in April of 1997, I simply started writing on the new machine, and continued from there to this day. So as of right now, I have over ten years of entries, 239 pages (in 10-point arial font). I try to add to the journal every week. It's fascinating to scroll back and see where I was, what I was doing, and where my life was on a particular date. I can see where my mind and life were at a certain point in time, and I might laugh, or cringe, or shrug. Some of the written memories are pleasant, many are matter-of-fact, and some unpleasant. But I don't think I would change anything. We are all the products of our accumulated experiences and choices. I've made some wise decisions, some dubious, and some... not so wise and highly questionable. I know who I am, and I happen to like who I am. And the people who truly know me, the friends who know my acerbic veneer is just that - a facade to protect this writer's sensitive soul - happen to like me, too. Onward.

My new favorite website? It's the brilliant and riotous "The Nietzsche Family Circus." The site is exactly what it says: it combines the wholesome, cloying family drones of "The Family Circus" with the quotes of German firebrand philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche. Click here to see young Billy, seeking ontological meaning for himself, remark that he must "look to it that he himself does not become a monster."

"Permalink" your favorites and send along all the existential fun to your friends and neighbors and foes... let them not gaze long into an abyss (you may be on the abyssal fence about your foes, if you have any).

There isn't much on television anymore that can really blow me away, but Mad Men (on AMC) does it. The action revolves around a Madison Avenue advertising agency (Sterling & Cooper) in the early 1960s. The writing, acting, and attention to period detail is so meticulous and organic that it's nearly impossible to not be drawn in week after week. Unfortunately, much like The Sopranos and The Shield (to name just two of many), the season is only thirteen episodes long. Mad Men is more-than-worthwhile and, of course, highly recommended.

It is Labor Day here, but no labor for me today, unless you count a walk to the drug store and the job search. Of course, sending out the cover letter and resume isn't exactly arduous - it merely requires time and focus. A festive extended weekend winds down. The autumn weather slinks about on the fringe of summer, and I welcome it. I, for one, will not miss the heat and humidity, nor the higher electric bills. On the worst of summer days, I long for the temperate climate of San Francisco.

A warm week awaits. Summer's last gasp. perhaps. We head toward the fall and soon enough the holidays will be upon us. Where does the time go?

Moz

2008-08-17T14:20:00.000-04:00

After an energetic morning, I embarked on a Morrissey listening marathon this afternoon. From his days with The Smiths to his occasionally mercurial solo career, the man is indisputably a musical genius (and "genius" is a term I do not toss about lightly). Whereas many artists lose a certain amount of the inspiration of "the hungry years" and drop into crevices of creature comfort and stability, even Morrissey's recent output shines as brightly as older classics like "Viva Hate," "Your Arsenal," and "Bona Drag." And few songwriters can turn a lyrical phrase quite as deftly as "The Moz"...

Ah, Morrissey, it's so good to still have you around.

You Have Killed Me

Pasolini is me
'Accattone' you'll be
I entered nothing and nothing entered me
'Til you came with the key
And you did your best but

As I live and breathe
You have killed me
You have killed me
Yes I walk around somehow
But you have killed me
You have killed me

Piazza Cavour, what's my life for?

Visconti is me
Magnani you'll never be
I entered nothing and nothing entered me
'Til you came with the key
And you did your best but

As I live and breathe
You have killed me
You have killed me
Yes, I walk around somehow
But you have killed me
You have killed me

Who am I that I come to be here...?

As I live and breathe
You have killed me
You have killed me
Yes I walk around somehow
But you have killed me
You have killed me

And there is no point saying this again
There is no point saying this again
But I forgive you, I forgive you
Always I do forgive you.

(From the album "Ringleader Of The Tormentors")

deliverance

2008-08-01T16:11:00.000-04:00

"Question And Answer" by Charles Bukowski

he sat naked and drunk in a room of summer
night, running the blade of the knife
under his fingernails, smiling, thinking
of all the letters he had received
telling him that
the way he lived and wrote about
that--
it had kept them going when
all seemed
truly
hopeless.

putting the blade on the table, he
flicked it with a finger
and it whirled
in a flashing circle
under the light.

who the hell is going to save
me? he
thought.

as the knife stopped spinning
the answer came:
you're going to have to
save yourself.

still smiling,
a: he lit a
cigarette
b: he poured
another
drink
c: gave the blade
another
spin.

--from The Last Night of the Earth Poems

regal

2008-07-27T13:31:00.004-04:00

"When the mighty Lion enters center stage, everyone notices."

"By far the most generous of the zodiac, Leos make loyal and giving friends... Close friends are chosen for their ability to keep up with the Leo's energy along with a strong sense of dignity and a commitment to individual values... the mighty Lion will do whatever it takes to defend loved ones. Loyalty for the Leo is for a lifetime."

"Leos are doers. I will is the key phrase for this sign. There's a lot of energy packed into this sign, and they're always going to be busy, regardless of whatever else is happening around them. They are ambitious, creative, and optimistic."

"This fiery sign is passionate and forthright with affections. When it comes to sex, you can expect the Leo to be adventurous, fun, and highly energetic. There is a definite line of division between sex and love for Leos... They look for uninhibited lovers who aren't self-conscious. As accepting as the Leo is, a mate needs to be an intellectual equal to cut the mustard. Leos are loving, fun, and very giving to those in their personal life."

"The ruling planet for Leo is the Sun. Considered the masculine principal of the horoscope, the Sun rules men in general, health, leadership, rank, authority, progress, energy, dignity, the capacity for experience, and the sense of identity."

Compatibility: Leos are most compatible with Sagittarius and Aries.

Opposite Sign: The opposite sign of Leo is Aquarius.

Strength: Warmth, humor, pride, joy, creativity, passion, generosity

Weakness: Arrogance, stubbornness, inflexibility, laziness

eulogy

2008-07-24T21:00:00.005-04:00

Ya' see, madness, as you know, is like gravity. All it takes is a little...push.

The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules!

See, I'm not a monster...I'm just ahead of the curve.

What does not kill you... simply makes you stranger...

Why so serious?

purity

2008-06-19T19:40:00.000-04:00

So You Want To Be A Writer?
by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.

if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.

if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.

if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.

if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.

if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.

if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.

if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.

the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.

don't add to that.

don't do it.

unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

excogitative

2008-05-30T22:32:00.003-04:00

Friday night, red wine and fatigue and much-desired solitude…

Strange how it all works, that is, if it even works at all. But, I suppose it does, somehow. This moment we call life. And it IS a moment. The greater time-line of it all makes that a perfunctory fact. Here we are now, in our lives, as seconds tick into minutes tick into hours and days and weeks. And before we know it, life is something we can look back on. It's relative. Really, the theory of relativity involves more than physics.

So. Yes. A Friday night in because I am too damn tired to make the foray into social circles. So tired that I can't sleep. At a middle-place outside reality on a bottle of red wine yet so ensconced, so enshrouded in the depths of all of this... whatever "this" is.

I often feel... isolated. Sometimes by choice, but also by who I am. That feeling is invoked to such an extent in the first book I wrote, "Ache." I can be incendiary. I can be temperamental and stubborn, acerbic and cynical, vindictive and wrathful. I brood. I theorize and philosophize and reason. Occasionally, it all makes a sliver of sense. As my friend Dave once wrote to me in an email, "You're so jaded, it’s a shame. I know there is marshmallow center under the bad-ass exterior." And he’s right. There is generosity and loyalty and love in me. I embrace those feelings as much as I do the darker side of my emotions. They fit – they work in tandem. All that I am is a culmination of where I have been and who I have known and what I have experienced. Through it all, I seek only truth. I want those who will be true to me to keep me warm. I'm a Leo and pride dictates. Leo - born to rule. Better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.

I raise my glass and this next gulp of wine is for you, whoever you are, wherever you are, whatever brought you to these words.

currently

2008-05-17T19:28:00.006-04:00

Since the debacle that was Easter weekend (that's a story unto itself not meant for the pages of this blog -- yet), I've been back in the city, going about the motions of life - work, play, and what lies between. I took the train upstate for a disastrous three-day visit, and the next time I leave the city will be for my friend Dave's wedding in San Francisco in July. Back to the city by the Bay. My city. The city that I will always consider my second home (Buffalo would take third place by rank), unless I decide to make San Francisco home again.

Here and now, present tense, in New York, yes, there are the motions - the motions that keep a roof overhead, food in the cupboard, and new clothes in the closet. Somnolent at sunrise, thoughts inchoate, on the elevated platform so damn early in the morning. The bonus is that the subway almost always runs on time pre-rush hour. There's always a seat, and I close my eyes and relax before the fluorescent rigors of the workday and lose myself in the music piped through my earbuds. Now and then you're unfortunate enough to find yourself on "the crazy train" (as I did on Friday morning). A jolly fella was whooping it up, laughing heartily at his own perceived comedy stylings, and calling himself the "n-word." There I sat, eyes slit, turning up the volume, thinking, "Please, I beg of thee, get off the train, Mr. Forgot-His-Meds-This-Morning." And his apparent insanity must have picked up the psionic waves of my fervent telepathic wish, and the gent took his controversial, race-inflected stand-up act onto the Queensboro Plaza platform. Thank you. The rest of the morning went as usual - sign out keys, open office, power everything on, slump into the chair at my assigned cubicle, stare at the ceiling, determine with little precision my sarcasm/arrogance quotient for the rest of the morning (read: defense mechanisms/self-deprecation), and contemplate existence.

Job search! Yes, that is an exclamation point. You don't see me using many of those, and that would make grammarians everywhere pleased. Anyway, the job search! Yes, it continues. But with this economy... sheesh. Jobs are not in flux. Then I factor in the narrow and competitive market to which I apply. No excuses - I simply won't settle and I won't sell myself short. So, I sleepwalk through the morning job with caffeine and a chemical buoy. Alternately, I actually like the afternoon job. I earn more than enough to maintain my lifestyle, which isn't necessarily high maintenance, but I do have a certain comfort level I enjoy. So it goes.

The book! No elaboration on that exclamation point. My book. Ache. Yes, it's coming. There is no doubt, so shut down those synapses in the skeptical area of your brain before they even fire off. Delays, edits, rewrites, renewed submissions, work-induced fatigue, and a social life contribute to the delays. Most importantly, it needs to be the best it can be. That takes time and patience. Why rush and release something below my high standards? I write. The standards I hold myself to in my life are no different for my writing.

And, finally, this website has given me an abundance of uncomfortable chortles, unsettled belly laughs, and pained grimaces for the past couple days: Hot Chicks with Douchebags. It's hilarious. Gasp in wonderment at the (ahem) finest specimens of humanity on display in all of their post-modern foppish, pseudo-gangsta, trainwrecked, steroid-pumped glory. By "finest," I mean "the most cringe-worthy" and "abominable." I'm sure they are all avid readers and have devoured many, many books and are prepared for intelligent discourse at the drop of a halter top. Prepare yourself for "the Warthog," "Fish Slap," "Dung Beetle," and "Magilla Scrotilla." You have been warned.

I am off into the night. Until next time...

symbolic

2008-05-03T19:28:00.003-04:00

Check out the Birthday Calculator.

My results:

You were born on a Wednesday
under the astrological sign Leo.
Your Life path number is 3.

Your fortune cookie reads:
Your blessing is no more than being safe and sound for the whole lifetime.
Life Path Compatibility:
You are most compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 3, 6 & 9.
You should get along well with those with the Life Path numbers 1, 2, 5 & 11.
You are least compatible with those with the Life Path numbers 4, 7, 8 & 22.

You were born in the Chinese year of the Monkey.

Your Native American Zodiac sign is Salmon; your plant is Raspberry.

Celebrities who share your birthday:
Charlize Theron (1975)
David Duchovny (1960)
Garrison Keillor (1942)
Mata Hari (1876)

Your lucky day is Sunday.
Your lucky number is 1 & 4.
Your ruling "planet" is Sun.
Your lucky dates are 1st, 10th, 19th, 28th.
Your opposition sign is Aquarius.
Your opposition number is 8.

There are 96 days till your next birthday

Your birthstone is Peridot

Peridot is used to help dreams become a reality.

Some lists consider these stones to be your birthstone. (Birthstone lists come from Jewelers, Tibet, Ayurvedic Indian medicine, and other sources): Sardonyx, Diamond, Jade

Your birth tree is Poplar, the Uncertainty

Looks very decorative, no self-confident behaviour, only courageous if necessary, needs goodwill and pleasant surroundings, very choosy, often lonely, great animosity, artistic nature, good organiser, tends to philosophy, reliable in any situation, takes partnership serious.

The moon's phase on the day you were born was waxing gibbous.

verstoteling

2008-04-24T19:56:00.003-04:00

black sheep by definition:

"In psychology, a black sheep is the member of a rigidly triangulated family, who holds the rest tightly together by being identified as the bad/sick/deviant one who causes all the family problems. In this situation, the rule enforcer in the family is charged with the job of controlling the black sheep from revealing the family secrets. The black sheep is seen as an outsider, but only because he is a teller of truth."

reflective

2008-03-08T16:01:00.006-05:00

An enjoyable night out. A late night, late morning. A divergence from the state of things. Not that "the state of things" has been particularly poor, overall. The focus is on what matters right now - the fulfillment of ambitions steadily approaches. The focus on the writing and new work. Other distractions? Well, I actually have a social life. Otherwise, I don't play video games - I outgrew that when "Galaga" was no longer the rage at the arcade. Nowadays it's all about something known as "Guitar Hero." I have no interest. My television viewing is sporadic, at best. Movies still hold a prominent place in this film geek's heart - they accompany me through all muck and mire, much like books. The best films I've seen in years are certainly "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men," friend-o.

Nothing is obfuscated anymore. Better to die on your feet than live on your knees, right? The ego, the perceived arrogance, the sarcasm, the detachment - it might seem unsavory, but those mechanisms defend acute emotion against the wicked whims or wiles of the world. When I remove the facade, there I am exposed but unafraid. This heart will take all comers because this heart is resilient. It can be hurt but it cannot be crushed. Do as you will... but try to be kind. Thank you.

Here on a soggy Saturday afternoon, the rain reflects. I light a candle. The words escape my mind and my fingertips. You see them now. It will be dusk soon and the sun will find itself elsewhere. The damp dark will edge across the city and this restless night owl will do it all over again.

fop

2008-02-06T20:45:00.005-05:00

My favorite images of the year (so far). Call them clotheshorse, coxcomb, dasher, swell, or toff, but I prefer "fop" or dandy." And why the sudden fascination with the "fop" or the "dandy"? I haven't watched Mel Brooks' "History of the World: Part I" recently, so... I don't know. What I do know is that these images definitely make me chuckle...

editred.

2008-01-17T21:55:00.000-05:00

interregnum

2008-01-04T13:25:00.000-05:00

Out of the city and upstate (again) for the 2007 holidays...

Magicians

Luke

The boys and their uncle huddled for the snapshot

High winds and lashing rain on December 23rd

The ersatz glory of suburbia

Outside the front door

Cute 'n' hungry strays

Church, Christmas Eve (no, an invisible holy barrier at the front doors did not deny me access to the inner sanctum)

Evan

Content "Gray Cat" in my lap during Shrek 3

tabula rasa

2007-12-22T20:03:00.000-05:00

I've never ascribed much credence to the romantic notions of the New Year holiday. In the past, though I might have made halfhearted remarks about a "fresh start," a new year has actually always seemed to me like the simple continuation of the old. It's a new chapter in the novel that entails our lives, but it's a also furtherance of the same story. Not so now. 2007 was a turbulent year for your occasionally humble and frequently self-deprecating scribe. So, the imminent arrival of 2008 imbues me with a... different... ineffable type of feeling. It feels like it matters more this time 'round.

Tabula rasa.

2007. The year may have been tumultuous in spots, but it was not a waste. Lessons were learned and certain goals achieved. However, my focus and ambition will not allow me to rest on any proverbial laurels. Yes, I finished my duties as the editor of the "Falling From the Sky" short story anthology - a labor of love and a groovy credit on my résumé. I managed to hold on to two jobs... but I suppose that's not necessarily a grand accomplishment. I decided to finally publish my debut novel, Ache. I don't want it to be just mine any longer. I want the words I crafted from my heart to belong to other people - and to possibly mean as much to other people as it means to me.

Writing. The word flow in 2007 was desultory - I will accomplish more writing in 2008. It has already begun, actually. I plan a collection of my short stories as a follow-up to Ache, which will be released in late winter. I already have fragments of several stories which must be fleshed-out, and an abundance of ideas for several others. I must thank a coworker for the concept of one story, a post-modern tip of my risible hat to Franz Kafka, titled "Radioactive Testicle" (yes, it is a humor piece). There will be another which is entirely dialogue between two (or more) characters - no descriptive prose. With yet another I want to experiment with the "stream of consciousness" style of writing, such as that made famous (or infamous, depending on your literary viewpoint) by James Joyce. And why the delay on the aforementioned Ache? Rewrites and editing take time. It has to be done properly, or it's not worth doing at all. But that novel will come out, followed by a promotional and PR campaign and public readings. Focus. Complacency dies a swift death.

Absolution. I eschew resentment and guilt. Pernicious events in 2007 briefly dragged me into a dark, inimical place I do not care to revisit. I am not proud of my actions or reactions. Hindsight flaunts my missteps. But I never adopted a victim's mentality and I will not reside in self-righteous denial or repression. I accept my culpability and resolve feelings of guilt and acrimony and I rise above. Any lingering antipathy is released, replaced with empathy. I can merely forgive now. I am not proud of what I allowed to happen, but I am stronger and better for it. Sure, my ego was wounded, but there was no tactile reason since I won't devalue myself, nor will anyone who truly knows the benevolent soul I possess. And it's a pretty damn resilient ego. I also realize that the only person who can damage or destroy me - or unequivocally hurt me - is me. It's done. No self-flagellation. No regrets. Tabula rasa.

Employment. Ah, the office. No, not the droll television show (though there might be some accurate comparisons between their comedy fiction and my workplace reality). I couldn't let this "2007 Year in Review and Renewal" blog post pass without a mention of the workplace. I was still with the two jobs - one in the a.m. and the other in the p.m. and making enough money between the two to live comfortably. But there's been a shift in my thinking and a change in my attitude and now something new looms. Yes, it is out there on my horizon, and it is almost tangible. 2008 is the time to move forward. And, I might add, with employment far removed from the lodging and hotel industry (that would be the phlegmatic morning job).

Bridges. No burning the bridges that still matter. And though I dedicated a lot of time to myself in the latter part of 2007, I also drew my friends closer and opened up to new (and renewed) relationships. Sometimes I can delude myself into believing I am a completely autonomous, self-reliant human machine. Sure, I often enjoy solitude, isolated from the world beyond my front door, with time for my words and my books and my thoughts. When all is said and done, as the new dawn fades, I still have me. But I know that any sense I have of abolition or disengagement is false. Without friends, both old and new, I become a much lesser and weaker person. So in 2008 I plan to nurture and keep these friendships alive and dynamic.

Tomorrow I begin a full week off from the jobs. I head upstate to celebrate the holiday and spend an abundance of time playing with my nephews. When I return to the city, the new year will be upon us.

New beginnings. Strides into a new life in a new year. Focus. Super-connected.

Tabula rasa.

respite

2007-12-01T17:00:00.000-05:00

Out of the city and upstate for the holiday:

Poughkeepsie

View from the train

Another view from the train

Schenectady

Albany

Station stop Albany

Gray Cat

The boys on their sled and Uncle Craig pulling them along

combat!

2007-11-26T21:41:00.001-05:00

here

2007-11-03T00:40:00.000-04:00

Home by myself on a Friday night. By choice. A bit of solitude after a stupid week at work. I care so little that it makes me care about everything else even more. Maybe that's a good thing? Vodka siphoned into my bloodstream. Synthetic supplement. Lit up. A night of isolation does my soul some good, I think. Only distracted by the music here. Peter Murphy with "Cuts You Up" plays - a dolorous piece that puts me into a reflective place with that close-mouthed smile of mirth and memory on my face.

Rhythm and rhyme. Some of the time I feel like I am out of time. Balanced on the precipice I chose, nudged to the edge by circumstance of the path I've chosen. I look down, out, and about, and I feel as if I can see everything from within the confinement of these walls. I know everything, but know nothing. That's the paradox. Sing to myself, talk to myself, jot my words down on a scrap of paper. Never mistake weirdness for insanity. I am fragmented and I am whole.

What comes next? Oh, the anticipation of chance. There is nothing like being in the moment. Whatever that moment brings or means has its own impact. And there is an emotional edification [of any sort] just to be there, to know it, to experience it, to remember it. For better. For worse. But often for better in the end.

We are matter. We are here and we seem to exist in whatever this is, and then we are gone and our matter decays. But I truly believe the spirit lives on.

You're reading this right now. You might wonder why. But you already know.

Kierkegaard

2007-10-30T20:39:00.000-04:00

People understand me so poorly that they don't even understand my complaint about them not understanding me.

Lately I have delved into the works of Søren Kierkegaard (May 5, 1813 - November 11, 1855), the Danish philosopher and theologian. Kierkegaard is often regarded as a founder of existentialist thought. Though his entire body of work is worthy of reading (and/or study), for the neophyte or aspirant start with "Fear and Trembling." Also, read a biography, or at least an overview or précis of the man's life, to gain greater insights into the man behind the ideas. There is an intriguing rift in his thinking - a dichotomy between his religious faith and his theoretical logic (another dichotomy presents itself there, because many might characterize religion and faith as theory, as well).

Now, some assorted aphorisms from Kierkegaard... words of wisdom to place in a mental recall pattern:

I must find a truth that is true for me.

Only one deception is possible in the infinite sense - self-deception.

Face the facts of being what you are, for that is what changes what you are.

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

Since my earliest childhood a barb of sorrow has lodged in my heart. As long as it stays I am ironic — if it is pulled out I shall die.

It is so hard to believe because it is so hard to obey.

Above all do not forget your duty to love yourself.

The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly one you can never have.