My Place In Time

          I'm pretty bored nowadays so this is where the last string is. To write bullshit that wraps around the epicenter of, whatever. Great start. I'm not going to delete anything I write from now on because what I usually write first is what I really mean and want to say. It'll be weird and not constructed well but who cares? Maybe you, maybe me, but definitely not 'them'.

          I'm in Miami and a hurricane is approaching. That's fantastic because yesterday, Friday, August 24th 2012 was the 20th anniversary of the lovely Hurricane Andrew that I was also in Miami for. I was a grand total of 3 years old. I don't remember anything until I was 5, but I remember when I was 3 on August 24th 1992. I was locked in a closet with my brother, my cousin, probably my mother, and my dad. Sorry Mom. I should have remembered you but the memory is faint. Your heavenly comfort as a mother has always been a given so it sometimes blurs. But my father, I saw. I remember seeing him at such a young age because he was, literally, holding up the wall. It was jumping up and down while the roof was separating from the top of the wall which seemed to be laughing without rhythm.  The only words I remember speaking was to my brother which was: 'Hey, my ass is wet.' Yea, it was that intense.

         Hopefully Mr. Isaac will be just as entertaining without the bs. I want a real show. You can't expect me to be satisfied by showing yourself when I was 3, the cartoons I was watching were just as fascinating. What the heck happened to Barney? Drug trafficking?

         As I look around my room I notice the outside shutters I closed an hour ago. It's a sealant. An enclosed prison shielding me from God knows what. Maybe if I do enough push-ups, strap myself to a tree, I'll be able to show who's really the boss; Mr. Rick Ross. Why does my 60 lb less brother wonder how many push-ups I can do? I think it's an ailment to decide whether he's fit or not. I've shown him a great example of the failure he's running from. God bless his skinny soul.

         What an optical allowance beer labels are. Anyway. Given my state, I believe writing this should give you a glimpse of where I'm at in my life. BLAHBLAHBLAH Today I saw a dinosaur, a tyrannosaurus rex to be exact, throw a first pitch at a baseball game on tv. Before that I was nonchalantly enjoying some bogus highlight reel of first pitches. I saw famous people throw 30 feet to the left of the plate, I saw the Kardasians throw hard sliders, I saw Keith Stone throw the perfect pitch with the perfect release, I saw George Bush, Bill Clinton, Barak Obama throw perfect strikes... I SAW A TYRANNOSURUS REX THROW A BASEBALL OFF THE MOUND TO A CATCHER. PERIOD! I was amazed! How?! WHY? WHAT?! How did they, wait a minute. Why did they have a Tyrannosur.. WHAT THE HELL? It came and went so fast my only reaction was to consider I had mistakenly taken acid with my coffee this morning.. The cup was abnormally small. NO! I saw what I saw!

         And that was your first lesson on babble writting. It doesn't matter what you write or how you write it. As long as it makes completely no sense, you're golden. HENSE the reason for this Blog. For all of you (singular) who read this blog, I hope you take a ugly angry dump tomorrow. PCE.

LB

Jesus Christ: We Should Let This Dead Man Sleep

          23. A lucky number some people say. An age that is expected to be lived without doubt. A meager age to all the elders. "You've only started living." I am 23. I hit that age when my Aunt showed me the cake she bought for me which had the number 23 on it. It was frightening to see a number so high placed on a flamboyant birthday cake. From my childhood, I can only remember numbers like, 9, 12 or 13 on cakes. Not 23. It seems irrelevant on a cake. What am I celebrating? Celebrations occur for those on-lookers to applaud the growing. But I have grown... I am grown. This cake in front of me symbolizes the death of youth. Embrace this year? Why? 

          23. I have grown to this number. I don't know if this number has grown on me, such like the other numbers. 20 felt like a tickle to the year of boozed crazed nights in bars. 21 felt like a blur that actually occurred in those bars. 22 felt like retired youth going to that same pond his dad took him for the first time to fish.... I had already been to that pond plenty. 

          23 feels like the unknown...  I'll just live my life as the numbers pile up. I'll have my 24th birthday which will come to a short lived surprise like 23 but work will still start on Mondays and end on Fridays. And 25 will come. Some things will change, I might have a car. My apartment might actually be acceptable to visitors. I'll own a dog, who cherishes my arrival no matter how grey or blue the day is. My visions might alter a bit. I might own a lawnmower. The cubs might win a world series. But that age will keep on crawlin' towards me, always on the lookout, always searching for me... Making sure I don't slip and let me know to always act my age.

          35 will come. Damnit I best have a wife and a kid on the way. No kid wants an old man as a father. 'How could such an old man teach me anything?' My American life will be on the way towards 40; where the middle aged man is crippled beyond recognition...  My dog will have long past. He was the reminisce of true love. I will always miss him. Without my dog, friendship dies. What am I worth? What is anything worth? I have given so much to society while giving nothing at all. Shouldn't I be rewarded? Or even Noticed? I wont die like this.

          55 will come with a crush. My life better be around perfect with plenty of relaxation. With no temptation of suicide or killing of my family for whatever they have caused me through the years. My house has been fixed multiple times with all of my friends' dramatically wrong inputs thrown to the side. I know wrong from right. It'll my Goddamn American right. 

          I'm on my death bed and the light never seemed so close. A time for reflection never seemed so irrelevant. I reflected all my life. Must I explain why it's OK for me to die? I don't need my families OK to. I just need a comfortable bed and a fan to dry the sweat accumulating around my brow... It's been there quite some time now. My wife folds over me in doubt of living on her own... She doesn't know it, but she has all this time. The garden will continue to grow. Our grandchildren will always need to be tendered to. Her book club needs her insightful input. And someone will learn to love her cooking. But I must go now. I lived on Earth and the Earth helped me follow my true intuition of free will. Free will to do whatever I please. Like the song that will be played as I fall into my endless nap; the nap I have been waiting for my whole life. No appointments. No phone calls. Nothing to clean. Nothing to do. That's how I liked it and I will forever now, embrace that.

Jesus Christ, we should let this dead guy sleep.

Tame The Beast: A Saga Without Remorse

          A savage beast stopped me in my tracks as I waddled towards my car at a deadly hour of the morning... At this hour, my brain had not yet regathered itself from its melted state a half hour ago, so visions were twisted. Sounds we're amplified. Feel was numb. My tongue was a mechanism gone unacknowledged throughout me... All was lost until this beast came upon me. 

          Fear shook through my heels. Instinct told me not to but I moved towards this animal not knowing what my body was doing... Yet, I saw myself grip the ego of this beast with my own eyes. 

          It's eyes saw through the degenerate in me. I felt it's solid statue crawl through my veins like an epidemic. Such a being thought never to exist on a Saturday morning! It has turned the fear in me, lose.

          It stood with a vengeance. Vengeance on my own LAWN? Christ! This is my land, creature. Only I, have the power to frighten, when on mine own land. The Nazi's didn't feel the power I feel for my own surroundings. But wait... It's moving. My thoughts - firing through my brain like a cowering school girl - may have tamed the beast. 

          Have I doubt? No. I am seeing what I sought... Total control without ever imagining it. It is vanishing from my grounds. You Savage Beast! Be gone! Oh, how I've conquered this animal, I shall conquer today with whatever it brings forth. I gave the morning a kick in the nut sack. Let's see what else this dreadful Saturday has in store... 

          Only time will tell whether this beast will morph into a slow driver in the left lane, or an invalid credit card keeping me from my addiction to tobacco. I know now, that whatever it is, I will overcome it. I have the power! No sympathy for the weak my friends... Only the afraid will fall and the fierce shall prevail. I know, now, that I am it! 

          I know now that nothing is unbeatable. This dreadful morning has turned into a delighted righteousness. Run away beast. This is ME, and I am here to stay!

          I unlock the door of my righteous vehicle and ignite it's power which surges from my foot to the top of my stimulated brain... ah HA! If only I could sell this power in a can... I grab the steering wheel and feel the rumble of the engine. This beast knows exactly how to tame it's competitors - with a blinker and an open passing lane, yes... I check my mirrors. Vroom! Vroom! 8AM has never felt so better...

          I pop that shifter into reverse and back out of that slightly titled driveway which is only meant for the best of drivers. No break, just gravity shall carefully handle this beast onto it's beaten path. Ah yes, a definite stop from backing out. I have the road in full view now. Today! will be the start, of the beginning, of the rest of my life... Shove that sucker into drive and... Stall. Fuel Gauge: Empty. 

          I know now, that I know nothing. 

Regen

          A pouring rain CONQUERED tuesday's innocence with a vengeance! Driving, swerving, swearing, focusing... My car was having heart attack and forgot to tell me. The steering well jolted, the breaks squealed, the engine belt whistled with its dying torque.

          Maybe the foot of water on the road had something to do with it... There's a shore line on 27th Ave and I forgot my trunks. Damn it Miami. A rotten taste exploded in my mouth as I noticed, where I had gone, to meet someone, was getting pounded by rain just like 27th Ave. Regen took control of my breathless car. Shall it take me with it as well? Abort!

          Tom Waits followed me through the drowning roads. He kept the sanity alive as everything around me slowly slipped deeper into a towering sight of confusion. Why must other drivers tempt the devil in this pouring rain. God doesn't like Gays or Miami. Sounds right.

          Home sweet Home. Not Alabama but this Home. In Miami.

What Tomorrow Brings

"As I get older, I get smaller. I see other parts of the world I didn't see before. Other points of view. I see outside myself more."

- Neil Young 

Timeless Tree

          I had elected to take two classes on Tuesdays that were three and a half hours between each other. I had seen it listed on the computer screen and it didn't look too bad.

 3:00pm - 6:30pm.

          'Hey I could go to the beach and take walks down the boardwalk and watch the wonderful ladies of Miami soak their bodies in the sun they don't really need cause man, their god-given genetics have given them all the color they will ever need. But that didn't worry me. Some women strive for excellence. I like that.'

          I thought to myself. 'But wait a minute. Three and a half hours doesn't go by so quick.. It actually takes some serious dedication for three and a half hours to seem like a breeze. If anything the first hour could seem easy cause of the hunger that would most definitely settle in and I could spend a good 25 to 40 minutes explaining to the 'wunderkind' behind the counter at Wendy's that 'No, I said an I'd like an Orange so-da, not extra onion in my chili, there's a buncha onions in there already genius'.  Shit. A hundred and fifty minutes to go and I'm full as a bear and I can barely move! I'm sitting in this car seat which doesn't require any movement but I feel the need to move but I can't! Damn you $1 Menu! 

          As the minutes drag on I find myself gripping the shinny cover of a daunting book named "The Devil In The White City", a book recommended and sent by mail by my mother who is an avid reader and if I'm in need of finding a great book, she's the answer. Oh this book has me by the throat - and the pages are turning as fast as these damn students leave the campus that imprisons me - they're probably thinking "Damn right I don't have to wait three and a half hours for my next class! I was prepared for my class selection! Muahaha" Damn them! First come first serve my ASS! More like... Ah screw it I'm lazy and I know it and its what put me in this god forsaken seat for the next 2 hours. Screw them.

          Cigarettes sure help. Maybe.. 2 minutes pass? After that its back to the drawing board. What to do.. What to do.. I've put my book down being that after the 45th consecutive page read I started to believe that I LouieBee was the devil himself, but left in this one of kind car seat and not 'The White City'. But I pick it up anyway. Why Not?

          Louie reads... Louie continues to read.. Turns the page.. Lights a smoke.. Read.. Windows down, pullin the smoke of my exhale in millions of directions; the White City is quite windy methinks. BLAST. Just a book. Then suddenly. Awkwardly. Unfortunately! This Security Truck comes riding up against my time consuming car and stops directly at my passenger window with a man who looks to be quite concerned of my presence here on his campus.

        "Whatcha doin here boy?"

I let out some already pulled in smoke.

        "Readin'"

Like he needed his magnify glass to find that out.

        "You go to school here?

No I'm sitting here, taking space up in your giNORMOUS parking lot, converting hot humid air into tobacco second hand smoke that I hope reaches your lungs only if these damn windows behind me were closed. But hey, I like the effect it has on my exhales. Screw him. 

        "Sure do, waiting for class"

Long pause. NO, not a dramatic Denzel Washington pause that creates tension beyond belief, just that normal real life pause that has no business being there but it is and its right there in my own personal time wasting space! Wait - maybe he's here to cheer up a lone student who decided signing up for classes a minute before they start was OK and he's here to keep peace.

        "Alright, you take it easy"

And he drives off. I keep my eye on that damn truck as he speeds off into the sea of parked cars. Them damned cars waiting for students to come back to them and allow them to drive them home. Only my car sits here to comfort my bottom and hold my pack of cigarettes that I seem to lose every time I want a smoke, yet its right there where I last put it. Damn these three hours have really put a toll on my finding abilities.

           I turn my head from the disappearing security truck to a small dangling tree in front of me that nests birds in it that don't seem to give a damn that I'm reading and continue to sing their songs. I see this tree as a part of my struggle; its all alone, far from campus, nobody to ponder its stranded beauty but mine own thoughtless struggle. Its a simple tree; special. Seems to hang there like its been for years.

          The Sun decides to take a break from its hiding willows and breaks this lonely tree's spell. It shines deep within its leaves which it inherits stripes of glowing fortune and value from the ground up. It sits there alive and breathing! The wind picks up and caresses the stripes of pure light to different angles that seek new territory only to find an abundance of new sought meaning. Life. This lonely tree is there just like I am there; to see its beauty when no one is watching. Life happens all around us when all is thought to happen by equation, or because 'thats just how it goes'. Just like the man that caressed my car with his mindless senseless talk. Yes. I am here. Just waiting and living.

What seems to be the problem officer?

(click image to enlarge)

         

Raging Road Rage Turned Off By... BIRD?

          As all South Floridians know, traffic during rush hour - especially on a Friday evening - can get pretty brutal and make drivers endure serious thoughts about population control.  You begin hearing your self ask:

   "Why won't he move?"

                                            "What's she doing on the phone at a time
                                                                    time this!? You need to focus woman!"
 
            It could be our wedding day, the day we win the lotto!, the morning of your new born's birth into this beautiful world where you believe "today, is a beautiful day and nothing can change that!" Then suddenly, you come upon a street full of full grown "babys" who have gotten their licenses, found jobs, bought cars and have decided that today -- "aint yo day".

(click image to enlarge)

            The sight of all these cars has ripped you down from that heavenly peace you once indulged and you are now looking the devil in the eyes, just hoping, for him to ask you to give up your soul in change for an open lane so you can get on your way!

          But for me folks. Today? I let the devil take his offerings elsewhere because once in a while I come upon something very brilliant and quite amusing to my inner child.

(click image to enlarge)

            A bird you may call it. For birders a: Cattle Egret (Bubulcus ibis) - some type of heron. That's what my barely two minutes of research on what the hell it was got me and if you believe I am wrong, please let me know, if you must insult me on my horrible identification abilities, read the beginning part of the sentence. What a wonder this little guy (or girl) was!

            He aimlessly waddled around the medium like a... lost bird? His legs came up high with every stride he took, as if trying to walk over long sharp needles planted into the ground. His right eye was trying to identify what the hell I was in and probably that I needed some air in my left front tire. His white feathers appeared to me as a white robe that he wrapped around himself as he left his nest just to make sure he wasn't cold during the nights flight. Such an innocent part of life in such a mad and angry setting such the one I was in. It was an eye opener and a definite look into what really matters: A good sound system for the long wait. ;-)

            It shed some much needed light on my then deteriorating state of mind. Although it brought a smile upon my face it soon turned sour. The heron who had seemed drunk, or frightened to death had been making much more headway than me. He didn't even know where he was going but he was getting their much faster then me and I had beef with that. But as the traffic started to move I snapped this photo because I wanted to keep this little guy as a reminder because although there are way too many people in front of you right now wasting space and gas, there's always something to smile or laugh at in your everyday life.