Friday, August 06, 2004

what song is playing in the truck while it's driver is illegally dumping chemicals into the watershed? at first , for fun, i imagined it was a billy joel song... but let's be realistic .... billy joel fans don't hold those kinds of jobs [ i am certain , so dont ask me about it] ... so what song...?.... and then it hit me... it really fucked me up... Gorecki's third symphony Il Lento . ...and then i fast forwarded to the driver himself... a driver that has read "all the classics " and even some way out there stuff too... now i'm nervous... a driver who was strong enough to never join a cult or the republican party ... and even worse... this driver is absolutely obsessed with modern art.... a fucking expert in abstract/diabetic/meteorical expressionamism.... and more than that he has two sons that he loves and takes to violin/soccer practice faithfully each saturday...and on top of all this, this damn waste dumper writes brilliant poetry! T.S. Elliottypeshit.! and now i'm really fucking freaking out because this guy with all of his worldy perspectives actually KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING!!! He is CERTAIN that he should be dumping these chemicals here in this watershed...
and if that doesn't get your goat, how about this: his goal is to rid this earth of people [himself included] as a favor to the natural world.... and hes doing it out of LOVE! [ like that woman who cried in the salad] ... OH FUCK ! ! ! now this is really making me feel shitty cuz i know plenty of cool people who've read secret life of plants who are cool , which means that i probably identify with this clown [ i also love gorecki's 3rd] and i may already may have summoned his frienship in one of the BIGFOOT users groups im on in my virtual life.... and then the question turned to me and what i was listening to last night when i shoveled all that sugar down my throat.


when i was in the second grade , my teacher would say every day "stop all the chatter" to the class when we would return from lunch. And now I know why i'm still not afraid of terrorism.
...chatter.... what a silly word.

Monday, August 02, 2004

learning lesson: self first

[chorus of farmers and farmhands] : "what can we make as big as love?"

nothing. you can't make anything as big as love.

i'm not sure how to put this to you.....

Love is quite actually all you need. . . I know some of you have become addicted to moneypower and bootymagic etc... but they are no substitute for love [read : empty] SERIOUSLY!
now some of you are saying that i came to amsterdam to "Go Hippy" , but that [hash pineapple, bikerides] has nothing to do with what i am saying; so i have collectively filed said handful under "peanut gallery" ... i actually was calling to tell that i found something here.... books.. books that a man made.... watercolor illustrations of absolutely every species of plant that i have ever/not
heard of.... volumes of them... hundreds, maybe thousands of pictures spanning eight volumes....i was thinking about his love... propelled by the suggestion of a new species to examine/makenotes/vibrate .... i imagine that his heart kept growing and that there are volumes more from this guy, ones that havent even been published.... thousands of new species sprung to lfe with the stroke of his brush.... and we [as always] are just waiting around for a way to see... plantlife .. plant life ... plant=life.... i thought about plants recording events, having memory... plant recorders... and i get a kick out of that being a recorder.. and i imagine i am growing , which makes me laugh... you see; love is quite the force when it comes to "suddenly actual" ... i bought all eight volumes of this guys book and i took them to the hash bar to examine them. i got too high , left with two strangers and bought tomatoes in the market [ i believed they were full of love] and ate them [as if apples] with the strangers in the street as the evening broke... and the strangers told me to listen to a record that luckily i wrote down and that it is delightful to be lost. and as we ate the apple/tomatoes i noticed that the tops of all the buildings were all glowing orange and then they dimmed as the sun dissappeared behind the museum...
and i notice that my neck had become stiff from looking up, and i noticed that i never look up... so , just then, i looked straight up above me, acknowledged the universal conciousness and and was at once grateful to whats-its-name for painting tomatoes into dutch existence. i had the books with me in the park... i think i left them there... and so to love i say : "let you not stop"
and to you i say : "begin". i have a suspicion that all this awareness is actualized by someone who is loving me from the backgound.
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