“A mountain never seems to have the need to speak — A look that shares, So many seek…”
RHCP
———
…
that’s right — life ∞ love — something once shared so nearly forgot and tho we got lost caught a breath in between bud opened spread wings & relationship swing
“In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: it goes on.”
Robert Frost
———
back in Jan he bought a ticket to ride SD, California where a sis to be wed
San Diego hometown— grounds of which he sprung, & lived for 25 years, til breaking nyc-ward May 2012
w/ novel dreams ‘n plans fixed fast blondyn took a train to catch a plane 4 roughing it Twain-Esque picturesque like Tom Sawyer unedit’d via urban panorama
now July 2015 and tho blondyn don’t make well w/ #s , he do approximate ~ million mistakes ~ hundred learnings ~ countless changes sponsored of experience / reflections uniquely had — all of them turning points 'long the way
(let’s see…)
babe started @ Central Park. rats stomp’d them out their grounds. cat moved to Hudson River. cops routinely shook him down. he spent a week in Harlem Hostel. was spending cash too fast, & so back to city streets for more rounds of scrounging new plans
wan'n’t long after that till a calm patch bloomed up right 'long the West Side where a rare back-alley-like Liberty Street proved comfy cozy
late @ night, kid was just tucking in beside a dog grooming shop when girl tripped across him
a mutual startling. girl ran yonder. 5 10 15 minutes passed, when right like that girl returned w/ bread
nights happened. girl returned. got to talkin’. happened fast. suddenly blondyn living in Trump Towers, 180 (fantastic) but manic depressive times had, too. 2013 turned 2014. girl left nyc, right like that back to city streets
'but new scene,’ he thought, naturally. 1 that 'insist’ on 'stability’ meaning minimal commute — bare necessities — w/ utmost focus on WRITING
by default, his 24/7 Storage Locker, had to be @ the center… but Hell’s Kitchen = Time’s Square = Ad Space Dizzney Land Central
to adjust to new habitat, blondyn switched sleep dial to: Off and ever since it be the place he been awake around the clock
2014 turn 2015 as winds blow season’s flow both without & within while day by change of insight set in til come that hour like new — time to move
and so a new chapter beginning via biopic streaming of realtime 'n raw journalism account happening
he walk w/ a ragged ‘n rolled up sleep-bag on each shoulder. one act a blanket. one serve a mattress. just fetched them of his 24/7 storage locker. now seek the street-spot that seem least restless
sleep routine to he, routine practice. occasionally pedestrian (curiously) note the load… but then there’s that 24/7 car wash that each time he pass stare as: what this darling on?
'don’t worry,’ think blondyn, 'got this.’
he mean the sleep bags. true, he do. and tho knowing flow of night ever beyond him, trust spirit, heart, mind, only due to prove
while wash-crew idly watch on @ his immediate right, taxis cars wick'ly tear by on his immediate left, where West Side Highway fly urban circulation & beyond it, Intrepid War Ship
Intrepid War Ship — a once WWII Fighter, now Sea Air & Space Museum NYC. no matter what street he opt for ZZZ at, blondyn always make sure to catch his peek
Intrepid, he think, have to be, and be to be and be to be, and tho w/ his moments, he remember Intrepid good times hard times all in flux
t'was mid-afternoon ~ 93 degrees air wethot humidity no breeze
nyc
@ Columbus Circle approximately, on return from a writing session had @ fordham university as fathoming on the decision to be made when heat hunger cosmic whirl of city goes like
ping!
he stops on the spot. blood starts simmering. boiling. temptations, connivingly arising. pressure points, arrested. adrenaline + cortisol stress hormone spectrum unleashed like vicious protein-venom, unwinding the logic w/ raging vengeance. circulation tightening.
temptation temptation you son of b*tch & botch’d on the spot, @ loss for what to do, yeah… it happen like that
and so there stood blondyn, frozen midafternoon via midsummer night heat w/ a trial @ hand & fantastically stuck as passerbys do so, wondering like:
“where he staring into?”
meanwhile deep breaths be had test well underway, out the midst of imagination, the Rubicon appears, Ring of Fire, about us, bound to be crossed, one way or another, changed forever —
fly or die moment.
deeper breaths be had. concrete jungle behind central park before. started walking. an unthinking automaton. unwilling to truly trust just walk walk walking in central park, & had a seat, meditation, aka, forwarding of all thought via One Direction
the practice has become regular, but the evil had hit hard. keep focus’d, anyhow on One Direction harder & harder longer still… minutes — hours — eternities go by, leaving us behind — til simultaneously like —
ping!
opened eyes. meditative focus, instilled lazar-like, even still — a tunnel of vision that sustains, in a strange way akin to permanence… right then a phrase, recited —
“I am the master of my fate— I am the captain of my soul—“
it occurs to him a new light on — the Way by which he’s going to see, hear, think — One Direction, like magically, the one and only way there be.
more images flash —
he thinks on the ‘Condensate,’ sign in his storage room crib strewn on the pipe that run across the room to the light.
he thinks 'to Condense’ and then, some more deeply on this place of living for nearly the past ~ 3 years
he hears —
onward
onward beyond this. he continues to think. sees difficulty. great challenge. but mind heart soul knows 4 real, now for certain the journey must go on…
onward
he remembers a passage from Andre Agassi, Open about the tennis pros’s meeting w/ Nelson Mandela—
“…Mandela talks about the road he’s traveled. He talks about the difficulty of all human journeys— and yet, he says, there is clarity and nobility in just being a journeyor. When he stops speaking, and takes his chair I know that my journey, compared with his, is nothing, and yet that’s not his point. Mandela is saying that every journey is important, and that no journey is impossible…”
no journey is impossible
and what’s more, it’s occurs to blondyn his particular journey, at the core isn’t even about him, but all that has yet to be — yet to come — all that remains to be created b/w us — a value that has yet to be proven… and what to prove?
onward
— the inner voice rings, and as so, something evolving beyond… a new sensibility… shrewd responsibility demanded of him— that’s always been demanded of him— yet never til now so wholesomely acknowledged
“why did it take so long?” — the Q that presents itself to b like Primetime Wonder, but it doesn’t matter — time, now. presence, be & w/ it, a newfound commitment to our journey beginning.
“…I am now more nearly a grown member of the human race…”
says Agassi
& so like that, it happened that yet another turn of the wheel changed blondyn’s state in a way with which he was unfamiliar, but nonetheless
open
and being open, the decision to deliver the journey
onward
beyond right / wrong however it go, do remember, it all happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
