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| november 2012 |
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| Way Back Machine | 12:01am friday, 30th november |
So what’s been going on is that I recently went to my 25th year high school reunion. It was good, one person (who was one of the hotties of the school) said how could it be that I looked better now than I did 25 years ago. Also saw this chick I sat in front of in 10th grade. As I was about to leave I texted her that I was going to head unless she wanted to go make out in the parking lot. She thought it was funny. Of course, I was serious, but didn’t press the issue. I felt at this time I was successful enough to see the old gang and tell them I research artificial intelligence when they ask me what I do. Also gloss over my past history, that I took a lot of drugs in college and I was messed up for a while, and I’m still on medication for my past indiscretions. Tried not to drive home drunk, had 3 wines and then drank 3 coca-colas for the last couple three hours that I was there. Made it home without incident. Really wish that she had said OK. That’s about it.
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| Been | 1:53am monday, 26th november |
I have been where the stones
speak in tones too ancient to perceive,
where the wind blows in rhythm
to the stride of the hart, where
time circles back and meets itself
at the end that is the beginning.
I have been where the dream
is yet unfolding, still wondering itself
into being, still becoming the
tomorrow that never will be, still
shaking off the yesterday that never
was. It has no where to it, it was
all here, it was anywhere. I still
remember what the angel said,
what all angels say when you meet
them at the first: “Be not afraid.”
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| After | 1:50am thursday, 22nd november |
I wonder if it is true, that we leave it all behind. I mean, if there is an afterlife, that we will think no more of this sky, and this earth. That nothing of this world will survive us passing on. It is my feeling, when I step back from everything for a moment, that this life is only a test, a preparation only for the things we are truly meant for — for eternity, where we really belong. As the grown-up puts away the toys of his childhood, perhaps we will put away all the temporal things of this life when we are faced with that thing which we vaguely term, “forever”. And as a child fantasizes of his adult life, what it might mean to be grown, I will wonder at the life beyond life; and I think I will find it most different than what I imagine now, just as the adult finds his time of age not as he thought in those years back, wide-eyed at the prospect of it all.
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| Currents | 12:13am tuesday, 20th november |
OK, so it looks like I’m not going to be an instructor. Apparently I lack enthusiasm delivering the content that’s available, and I can see why — it’s Java, and I’m a Lisp guy. Java is old hat. Originally I had thought I was going to develop and teach a course in artificial intelligence, but it mutated unrecognizably, and at various points I was wondering how I might quit from the program. I wondered how if and when I got funding for my AI company, that I was going to take off a week at a time to teach, while being committed fully to heading a startup starting up. And then I did that last presentation, of which I was writing about a little while ago, and my debriefing was that I knew my stuff, but my presentation skills needed work, and to call them if I wanted to try and present after practicing on my own. And I was like, “You’re breaking up with me? Awesome.” So I am now being pulled in 3 directions at once, not 4. It’s all good.
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| the song | 2:14am friday, 16th november |
this is the song i knew without knowing
that i sing to the spirits of those whom i have not yet met
and i open the door to a world of light
where these strangers know of what it is i foretell
that dance as if they hear the rhythm buried in my bones
in the halo heights which have drifted down
where canticles of dreaming weave through the skin
so today i am born again out of sound
the promise of a dawn that first whispers its sunlight
and the music of the spheres is within
let those who have ears hear every subtle symphony
the tune in the blood, the beat of the constant heart
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| Easy? | 12:23am monday, 12th november |
Some people don’t seem to have to work for it. You see these people, who appear to breeze their way through life, wonder how they could be so suited for this world, and how you are not so adapted. I don’t know how many of them exist, but I wager that there are blessed few. Most of us feel ill suited in some way to our environment, this time we accidentally were born in, this place that never seems quite like home. But as one who has suffered, one who has been frustrated and bored and broken, I can’t say that I would trade these experiences for an easy life. No, at the times of my pain, I would have liked to wish them away, or never to have gotten in those situations; but now, these are scars that I wear proudly. Of course, I would like an easy life right now — but somewhere on down the line, I will look back at my struggles and tribulations and remember how I won, remember how I lost, and know that I fought hard, a good fight.
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| Hoy | 12:05am thursday, 8th november |
Hoy, what craziness. So I am in Virginia auditing the class I’m probably going to teach first, and I had my presentation for it, which was presenting one of the chapters to some instructors. This was my second, and it went better than my first. The first I was so nervous, and couldn’t get over it the whole thing. This one got somewhat better during the middle, but definitely it went better in my head. Then I talked to an instructor, who was not a superstar, like everyone else I had met, and his experience made be feel better about the whole thing. Also, there is a hot chick in the class, and I thought she was digging on me a little yesterday, but it was a bit of a cooler reception today, which makes me think that she might just be nice, in the southern kind of way. She’s from North Carolina. Whatever, she’s not Korean anyway, just that I’m a sucker for a pretty face. Crap, I have so much work to do....
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| bones | 1:36am sunday, 4th november |
joy in my bones
in that anything can happen
the force of all fates turn on a dime
rendering a world in an instant
or nothing, by a wind
dreams that do not die
stirring in the liquid soul
emerging by an eon’s meticulous hand
or to dissipate like a fog
or sudden of apparition, like starfall
or thrown into the outer darkness
all of which fit somehow
in the river’s sussurous flow
an instant in which such sunlight strikes
penetrating delight
joy in my bones
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