THE MEDIATOR BETWEEN HEAD AND HANDS MUST BE THE HEART!

Saw an angel yesterday. Went to buy some gatorade. She was working the counter at a 7/11. The look she gave me I will not forget. It was warm and comforting. Like solar radiation. The first heartbeat of a life. I saw a very bright light. It was as if time stood still. Then the halo faded - I snapped back to reality as the register drawer slammed shut. Next thing I know it was just a girl handing me some change and the rest of that day resumed.

...each moment unimaginably precious...

May 10th, 2012 Walked home from the cafe today. A pretty girl on her bicycle smiled, passed me by hours ago. I see the bottoms of the gutters. My shoe's reflection in them when I step over the curb. My body aches from working graveyard. Exhaustion weights me down like an oil tanker full of lead. It feels good. Had to kick another bunch of transients out of the restaurant last night. How much shit am I willing to put up with? How many more nights am I going to do this to myself? In this uncivilized, desperate age, I have felt the distance between myself and the late night losers who frequent the store offset by the sounds of gunshots, coyote howls and sirens. I sit outside on my breaks taking it all in, swathed in cigarette smoke and still-born intellect from locals and students in the after hours of 3-5am. The pain of having to get a store ready for morning reminds me of having gone beyond myself, of accomplishing things I know I did and did alone. It makes me realize how stupid and petty the world really is. Who's gonna steal my tips tonight?

-Managing a small business.


I can't find her. I keep looking. I'm really just fed up. I want to test and see if my heart can be broken, the way a scientist tests their theories in laboratories - am I as passive as gas or as viscous as a super-fluid....?

This time of year has me thinking a lot about women. I like the ones in my imagination the best. The Imaginary Women. They're the women that I tell myself about when I'm feeling empty and alone. When I get home in the morning, dazed and tired of the sun, I quietly sneak into my bed, imaging the scenarios and transitions that would transpire. I put my arms around her in the kitchen. She's brewing coffee. I laugh because that is exactly what I just got home from doing... It works for a while, and now and again sticks for awhile, until I can drift on to other thoughts.

the cosmic lounge (ISS)

We do not determine Space/Time. We are conditioned by them and the Human mind cannot comprehend anything without reference to them.

El Cajon Blvd
University Ave
Those were the main two streets that ran down the central corridor
Of San DIEgo
Two narcotic filled arties
Two gaping wounds
From these two bowl ducts
You could get almost anywhere in town
Get almost anything
And still end up nowhere
Their intersections seethe
With rotting agitation
Like two parallel carcasses laid side
By side
North and South
Running East to West
Two bodies in a grave
Two bullets locked into a chamber
Cars fire down their barrels
At killer speeds
It was easy to get lost on those streets
Hung up
Left for dead
San DIEgo’s mortal tomb
Transplants
Junkies
Faggots
The used
And abused
El Cajon – 'The drawer' en Espanol
University -  An educational institution designed for instruction, Examination
Advanced learning
Well, I got all I could stomach
All I could ‘learn’ From those two streets
To see that The Gateway into San DIEgo
Leads strait into the mouth of Hell.