Now that was alot of fun

Just went and met someone I didn't really know. I wasn't sure what to expect but we just had a great fun conversation. What is it about people that sometimes you just click and have wonderful great fun times? I guess it's sort of like music. One person is there own complex melody with there own instraments and chords. They have a particular sounds, tone, feel. Not that the person can't change there song or anything but it's basically the symphony they have at hand. So they everyone is there own orchestra if you will. And they play there own selections. Well when you put to orchestras together and there styles and sounds don't match things don't work out so well. But sometimes two get together and have a happy fn duet of sorts. Doesn't mean the musicians have to setup permanent residence to that orchestra but you get my point. So it's basically like that with people. If you think about it the conversations sort of has it's own sound, almost melodical in the sense that it has it's flow. But two people who don't click just seem to have this garbled sound that has a bunch of mis starts and stops.

But anyway back to what I was saying. Yes I was out and had this great conversation. I need more friends like that to hang out with and just have conversations with. You can't really add other people into it cause then you have multiple musicians which may not work and who's the band leader and such. I've still got a smile thikning about it. =)

heheh >=)

Off we go to find another random LJ victim to my posting muuuhhahahhaa... come patsy *coconut click* coconut clop* coconut click*....

Up to early

Well not actually up since I didn't wake up but there has to be something mental about being up at this time of morning... Hmm not sure what but I can feel it lurking back there.

Arg do I need to get new headphones. These ones are killing my ears. But I can't live without my music... hehe that's probably part of the reason i'm still up... to busy dancing in my seat =)

Oh and what I wouldn't give for a 50cent Little Juan burrito right now. You know what I'm talking about them microwave ones that you get in the freezer section. Damn are them things part of the major food groups.

hehe now there's something funny... food groups...
Damn do i need to go to bed. I think I've really crossed that threshold of insanity...

"Madness takes it's toll.... please have exact change..."

Oh i'm so not looking forward to today

Ever have those days where you think it might be better if you just hide under the covers? I don't know why I had this feel the instant I woke up this morning. hmmm I think i know the solution. I think it's a day to just find the company of my dog and try to figure out what she's thinking. You'd be amazed on what you can learn. One time the power went out and everyone was all freaked out cause the tv wasn't working and such. And there was my little puppy not caring about the world or the fact that microwave didn't work. Made me think "strange how dependant and comfortable we've become on electricity." My dog is just as blissful with and without it... why can't I be? So i say... bring out the dog... hehe

Wow

Just cause I'd like to bring some thoughts to you all. here is something I started last year but only made three entries. I didn't have the happy convience of LJ back then. Sorry it's long but I think it's worth reading...


There is this dream I have. I can't explain it. It resides in my mind as been there ever since I knew how to think. As in knowing my own existence was individual and knowing it belonged only to me. I have shared bits and piece to people. But I've never explained this dream to anyone. Mostly cause I can't explain it to myself. Inside me is this desire, this burning desire to make everything one. To merge all love and beautiful for everyone to share. Yet this is an impossibility since some love causes some peoples pain. And without that pain there would be no opposite in which to measure.
But I sit and think of these marvelous concepts.
A martyr. Someone who give a precious piece of themselves for the greater good. A greater person than what can be contained in their soul, which bleeds out to help others. Could I help some how? To open a door for someone deep in his or her mind and show him or her the beauty I see. I find that difficult. Who would listen and for how long?
The family. The sacred piece of men. To those who grasp and understand the beauty and the oneness that family brings. It's powerful. The look of a child, or namely the look of one's child. How grand that must be. No words are needed the concept is all.
Patriotism. Believing in what others have provided and continue to defend and protect that for others. I sit her and think what other things do I find beautiful like a dream.
Sadness, sadness can be beautiful. The loneliness, which makes us, pause and think of another. The little glow that fires inside from the concept. This woman named Kristina. I find beautiful. Maybe I can describe how maybe I cannot. It's like my head opens and my being becomes hers. No sign of my end or her beginning. The breaths we take, we take together. A feeling of lost but yet at home. The feeling of a long travel that's reached an end. The reward one find in the comfortable seat after a long day.
My breath. That is my soul I believe. I feel that when I close my eyes and think of the concept of her. Like a clean breathless air. Trickling away as in falling asleep. The soft moment in the still. A final smile before letting go and remember only her. That beautiful concept.
Does it perceive everywhere in some other form. The treasure of a book. A bridge between one dreamer and another. Material concepts that one can take with like a trinket. Its concept stands for something. And the concept of a dreamer. I believe that is me. That concept, can I share the beautiful dream with in me that I don't understand and plant it into another? Does everyone have their own beautiful dream? And if they do why do they leave it unstirred. So I start here. My long journey awaits me. How far I continue I do not know. But maybe I can give this to my children and maybe they can remember how beautiful I think of them. I can almost see the faces and I cherish it's coming dearly.

Ow

damn my legs hurt! In kung fu we're learning this form called Tai Peng Sin Kun which roughly translates to "Great bird spreads it's wings". I think that's totally the wrong name for the form. I think it should be called "Great bird is going to kick your ass girly man" Makes me wonder what that translates to in chinese ;)


Anyway another installment of my old journal, Again sorry for being so long again.


Well I missed a few days. Nothing because of shortcomings. I sort of have forgotten that I started this. I watched the movie Thomas Crown Affair again and pondered what it must be like to life everyday with someone you love without ever thinking about working. The money was there and that everyday could be an adventure. I couldn't just sit around all day and not do anything. I'd have to revel in life enjoying what there is to see and explore. But what fun is exploring when you can't share it with someone? Not very.
The little things that make people social animals and me a dreamer. A black and white photograph sort of dreamer. Everything I see these little beautiful moments. Beautiful now that's a word. How many people really see what is beautiful and just say it is beautiful because they think that's the proper word to describe what they see? Hardly very few really see that word and reserve it for the special things that capture a light of a different kind. The sort of light that only follows a beautiful woman in a room. How everyone around her becomes cast in a shadow and become totally unnoticed. That lost feeling that is bliss. A silent moment that just sort of hangs there and everything stops. But I'm a poet so I see these things all the time.
But I do fall prey to the daily tasks and labors of the mind that prevent me from slowing down and taking things in. How many moments have I missed? And were any of those moments life or fate changing. Would things be different had I taken the time to stop and enjoy the little things that pass me by. My lack of acknowledgement surely missed a few. But what of the material things. The refinement of it all. I wrote once that I preferred things man made by hand than something made by a machine. A very Japanese view of things and there creation. The items made of the best quality come more from the mind and vision of something truly brilliant. Where a Ferrari is not made by man but dreamed by man. That desire to revel along with a brilliant dreamer of a vision he has of a car. What it should be and how it fits with a person. A thought to what the purpose of the item is and an attempt in art to exemplify that. The sense of flight, power, and speed in a car. Such does a Ferrari do that. Taking away all the hard edges and making everything refined allowing one to only concentrate on the essentials of a car. Most cars are made by machines but some are made from a vision from men or women that make it unique and original. It's truly designed.
And fashion. Finely made piece of clothes to cover the body, which is the temple of God and the beauty within. One would not cover a Ferrari in burlap so why would one want to cover the most single precious thing, ones self, in the same. A desire to not cover but accent one's self with materials that amplify and tell a story about the person inside. A harmony if you will with the person and the clothes.
But isn't that what all of it is, Music? A desire to find the harmony to which ones natural sounds and hymns duet effortless. Where a Ferrari would be a magical symphony, a well-made sports car such as a RX-7 is a standing ovation sort of show. And of all this who helped teach me to be a poet? A mystery for sure. What describes my upbringing and what factors controlled my lust of and for beauty. This I should ponder next time.

Her clock

tic toc, does my heart belong here?
tic toc, every moment with fear
tic toc, drowning in blues
tic toc, pale and unforgiving hues
tic toc, dizzy nuasea still
tic toc, violent twisting will
tic toc, beating like a drum
tic toc, does the loneliness come
tic toc, unadorned embrace
tic toc, to stop the tear on my face
tic toc, the unforgiving clock
tic toc, my sadness does it mock
tic toc, yet leaves me with a beat
tic toc, till my heart is complete
tic toc, for her clock will return to me
tic toc, her hearts beat will it be