Shalom.
Back at it… bending words like a keyboard Jedi. (Btw..we have come so far technologically that auto correct ..or auto grammar…makes me capitalize Jedi) I always have these pauses in writing during the summer months…I guess it’s because the need for exposure to radiation and bikinis has a larger pull on the lizard part of my brain. I attempt to roast myself into a golden brown yard Nazi…(oh, more auto grammar capitalization…so Jedi and Nazi share some grammar equality… the collapse begins)
So I’ve never been a fan of the Beatles…well…a few songs here and there… and after the break up I have a few here and there also…but I’ve never been on the Beatles bandwagon. I say that because I’m gonna go into a little Lennon stuff and it’s important not to get the point maligned. Been caught in this mental loop of applying the lyrics to “Watching the Wheels” to many situations in my life. Lyrically it’s not a complex song.. following a cadence that I can tap my hand on the bar to as I choke down a swig of amber colored enlightenment. But somewhere I find myself giving Johns insights purchase in my synapses. I’ve never seen “Frozen” but John was belting out “Let it go” long before Queen Elsa cashed that Disney check. (–had to capitalize Disney… Nazi…Jedi…I’m seeing a trend) I want to believe that Lennon was at a point in his life that he had that moment of clarity that we all long for… where the Bodhisattva pierces the veil of enlightenment. That this was truth and all of the outside was just the static of existence..for a brief instance he had a compass and a map…and the path he drew were lyrics and music. I’m a firm believe in music…it encompasses much of the human condition… love…pain…hurt…want…life and death. One of my favorite places to write is in the bar.. being that guy sitting in a booth with a glass of whiskey and a pencil…or maybe a laptop if my fingers haven’t become drunken dancers on a scrabble board. A person can see all of those aforementioned milestones of life in a few nights of people watching. You develop your own internal razor that cuts to the quick of peoples intent.
I have been thinking of writing a book. A collection of thoughts and stories. When I was younger I used to push a pen around a notepad trying to tell a brown eyed girl how much I loved her…and when she left…how much I was hurting. After all these years there is an old tattered briefcase of yellowing paper in my closet that cries out now and then. Its youthful confusion has been asking for absolution for the past year and a half… it’s odd how the wheel of karma spins on so many levels–perhaps it’s more like the inner workings of a clock… tick tock…a spin here a winding spring there…meshing of choice and consequence playing out in a myriad of possibilities. Someday your on the upswing…some days headed to the sixes. Maybe I notice it more because I have the time– not bound by the daily obligations of normal life…no spouse…no kids…just my small 1 acre fiefdom here in Greendale township. The Oil City Philosopher, ha….more like the Polebarn Hermit. I don’t think I take any offense to that. You may find it lonely…but solitude brings an envious freedom. I don’t have to deal with the problems that many of you do…and I find that comforting.
I think people unknowingly undermine themselves. I think that’s why we get lost in the computer…the social media….the grass is greener. We want to be OK…to be happy. But seriously… does anyone know what the fuck that is? Maybe Lennon did… for a second in watching the wheels… letting it all go ( fuck you, Elsa) … So I’m gonna let it go…that shit I have been watching cause those wheels… the ones that make up Karma are gonna roll regardless and there is only so much you can do… I’m gonna get lost in the music… the radiation…the bikins….The wheels going round and round…the collapse.
See you in the ether…. Shalam…..
Dirty White Walls 
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