Post 2. blast from the past/ retrospect / what was i going through

Dear Blog,

I'am writing to you from the distant future. Here, in this unpredictable place, in this unkowing place, in this fine place, is a spot to land your bi-plane.

There, on the desert beach where you landed your Saharan coloured plane down,

are the cool gentle waters where blue green reign supreme,

and there are very few things to worry about.

Where you are is your present, My past.

In that time space was a whole other worry set,...

A whole other situation paradigm...

Had to think on your feet.

And describe it.

Let's take a look at what was going on as things led up to where I'am.


Hey, basically, there was too much sensitive material, it turns out I'm not ready to divulge my personal journals yet in online audience spree so I took this one down. i'll be revisiting this post.

(here are some poems from Chicago)

1. Tall black ceiling,

with a charred texture,

like the burned bark of the redwoods;

I ask for sex with my eyes but,

no replies.

2. The temple turns rose in the evening sun,
   they used a white stone, to show trust in
   It's choice, of colours.
   Inside, I ask for humility,
   while the eyes of someones friendly daughter,
   stare me up and down.
3. Hunger has many doors.
   With each mouth clamoring, lip smacking,
   and then, falling silent.

Love APW

Bahai temple of Chicago

At the Elephant seal observation beach

Post 1. Back to basically nothing

Dear Dearies,

I sit in the fabulous café, where people come.

There are the entrepreneurs who sit together, with their laptops and writing tablets, in two's and three's, discussing plans and idea's, off the clock, unpaid creative time. They often drink plain coffee and tea. They pass the computer back and forth.

There are the young women sitting at the table, they drink the bottomless mimosas special. They lounge on the comfy seats, talking and chatting. They don't move much, they don't drink too fast. They are cute.

There are the solo artists, one guy who's trying to code but can't get off facebook. The young Japanese girl who goes to college, she drinks a small saucer of latte. Her head phones are in, she acts like I do, with the eyes set forward on the screen.

There are the breakfast only folks, who sit at the bar with iced coffee's. They are serious business, lovers maybe, or close friends. He grabs her left overs in the carry away box. She pats his bum and they walk out.

                       I'am in the Saint Luis Obispo. It is a quaint, valley city. The girls dress in the most incredible ways. Lots of cut halters with the lacy bra's showing. Short short jeans. College styled fashionista's. The men are tall and strong, some with a very country style background. Boys who stand 6-6 1/2 feet tall, big arms. Others are shorter, with beards and glasses. There are fewer piercings

on the men; women have septum rings. The mountains surrounding the city are cringing with erupted beauty. Blotches of orange poppy continents can be seen from far away. If I ever have a child, with the acne sensitivity, I will say to them "Look up ther, in the mountains. Their faces are blotchy with poppy, sunflowers, and goldenrod. Orange, red, purple, like your face is, but we do not call these things ugly. The flowers come with the spring, fecund and fertile notions. We call them beautiful, just like you my child.

How do I like this now, being on my own traveling.. The loneliness is not so severe, making friends is simple. What is hard is the usual. Sex, money, these are the worrisome dreams I have when I'm sleeping in my car. The world is beautiful and as long as I take care of myself, exercise, love, good food, then I can get through it. Looking for work, hoping to find a farm where I can buckle down and become myself. All the people of my generation seem to be doing it. I miss making women purr. I miss easy nights on a mattress. I miss my close friends.

Peace on earth. may the names of all the gods be heard because they are ringing in the bells of vibration all around us.

Revival

Dear Me,

I am sick with a cold and under the weather. The day was a slow start but last night I camped under the RedWoods for the first time and had my first lucid dream experience. I jumped from a building two, three times and each time I was flying. I soared through an endless turquoise blue; there were no landscapes or objects only flight and facing fear.
      The woods are good to me. Sometimes I think there was never a person on the planet who was built with the patience I needed, so it goes that the Divine Mother provides it. I'am glad to be away from people who count on me. I'am glad to not be counted now.
      I love you all very much, the great wheel turns on. I'am currently residing in Santa Cruz in the woods. I pray for you and the world.
Sincerely,
Austin