Volatility

A ways away from today, you tomorrow dweller you.
don't stop to recall what the day today brought you.
This was a rainy day, now it rains.
I got phone calls from all over the world and from the past and from the future.

wait wait check your grade. what did you get?

the now now.

there is nothing there now. now.

now now, jason, don't be sad. you have done the best with what you had.
for the sand is the greenest of the fines. it takes vines and dusts them child.

A day like today was a day of volatility.

Jeff armstrong calls me.
Kj calls me
gooch calls me from Japan.

I have been up since 7am on my day off.

I have been reading Mrs. Dalloway.

I have exercised. I have called people. I have been alone. frantic. and alone.

You don't know what it to be alone and not have anything to do for yourself or anyone. It is prison. It is ungodly. it sits cold in your soul. 2 movies. a quarter of a book. endlessness. counting down the days for a vistor.

i know what vera must have felt like and I'm afraid of what will become of me.

it is as if i have had a day of what retirement is like. It's so unforgiving. heartbreaking. devastating.

I have no place to go in a city of movement.

I spent at least an hour at a starbuks in el segundo around lunch. More than a handful of strangers ran into other strangers that they knew. How can so many people knoew so many people. what are the chances. What are the chances that I can be having the same conversation with two people in a row. what will happen when I answer my phone again.

where should I go with all this time to blow? I am afraid of driving in the rain. I saw 3 people run readlights today. rain and losangeles is confusing for most, and teriffying for those observing the confused. the masses.

my culture has been growing within me. I feel yogurty. and unhappy. and like i have so much more energy than I should. My chemmical balnce is broken. seashells cover my ears, but i can only hear the sound of manhattan. of fear and isolation.

I can't hold a candle to your writing now. Not now. I'm not trying to. I am just letting go of my power. I am releasing the handle on the trolley car. I have let go of the leather strap above

my six year old head. I am floating down on the 1940s redcar
safely to the ground. safely and slowly. I record this moment of weightlessness. it's cups my joints with release.

my feet hate plastic socks. disarray.

I thee pray. I whyp my face and spell what you taste.

an alphabet soup of commerce and buys. selling your highs to the peeking ducks
clothing calls a morning wok into the suns bashful falls.
comm. erce. itching itching so hard. consuming me.

what would Mrs. C Dalloway due? a 13 dollar mistake, mind you. I say what time is in ben. I am gone again. I have lost you. readingreaderson.

that's who you are. just a little sad invention. a 3M product.

let down. spent on this mess.
you sharped tongued fool. shaping my face with your mouth and eyes. you bring those
those dark meat braced faced crys.
sad tighted little courses of delight.
what a sight. (I hurt). what a sight.

When I am Famous, When I am Dead

Readers break your eyes from the signs that you see
because as your read these words, I will again come to life.
My son, you may find this digital archive and dust it off,
you may be older than I am, at 23, when I write this.

Now Imagine what you know of your oldman at 23 at think of yourself at that age
we were about the same; I was a little bit fatter.
But the beauty of this work is that it is as if I have gone off on an expedition
into the Hymileas and that I have left a clone of myself out in the ice

Now son, you are treking through the ice and you find that clone in ice
and he is preserved, waiting to be discovered, left in pristeen condition
for you to admire, and enjoy, but never unearth.

Knowing this fact, my boy, I will try to answer all the questions that you may have for me, to the best of my 23 year-old ability.

I loved your mother more than I loved myself. You are more like her than like me and that is why I also love you more than anything.

I was once a fabulous dancer and drummer. I have never been happier than in my youth, with the heart-beat of the lord inside me, moving my body.

I talk more than I think. I can't sleep well alone. I love cereal. I do believe in God, and the idea that we are in control of knowledge far beyond our understanding.

I also betray the Lord on a daily basis, just as much as I betray myself.

Life is the space between truth and lies, between facts and fakes. the amorphus and glorious unknown that resides between our ears and in our chests.

The land warms me from my back upward and I being to melt. I am a corpse at 23, and I cannot breathe knowing that you have not read this, but if you are here, son, and you are reading this, I am alive again in you. When you looking in the mirror, you will see that face from the ice. It mirrors you as much as me. When you miss me, look to it, because that is where I reside, in you.

Now, I pray that you will know all this about me kid, but if you don't get to see the clone that has grown into and aged and died a man, you can always have the voice of the real me, frozen here. waiting to be unearthed. waiting for you.

I love you, son.