as some of you know i have a thing with walking in the rain [that's what happens when you're born rosh chodesh cheshvan i suppose]. Tonight i went out for a midnight walk [& also to splash- test my new polka-dot galoshes]. While i was in the midst of licking the sky's tears away and simultaneously washing the tedium from my own dry mind, the fluidity of the moment hit a sore spot, and the simplicity of simplicity caught me so off guard i almost tripped over the sun-bathing moon...

yes, we all find that place of personal outerspace that we tend to hang out in...a playground for one in our own little heads, our own Bermuda Triangle of consciousness, a gingerbread house of reality. its the place that we escape to when things make no sense, when you yourself finally realize that you will never make sense, and you no longer feel any need to make sense again. This niche is hole, a void, a vacuum removed from everyone and everything. There is no humanity, no art, not a single thought but: I am, I am happy to just BE.

This is the home of Isness. No excuses, no pretenses, no attempts at trying to convey a sentiment that is barely a fluttering wing of the spirit, no attempt at gravitating words and pinning them down to linear coherency. Nothing matters because it is all insignifcant to the state of Absolute Isness of You. Its a g-dly space, an intimate sphere, like a boudouir of spirit that opens only in a communication with Oneness and the knocking of Essential Things... leaving everything else outside...to fade with yesterday's rain clouds.

Lots of people think this is some kind of psychological/spiritual loneliness... naaaahhhh. it's not a defense mechanism...it's privacy. it's spending time with yourself [something i highly recommend to those of who you still feel awkward in your own presence].
You know what, people...
i decided in this particular puddle on New York Avenue that:
three times done, and it's done. because i do believe in humanity and in the power of art, and i believe in the potential of all things beautiful, ugly, wrong and right, i must admit to something.
i know that it is probably true that we can't change the world, heck it's probably pointless even trying to change our darn country...we can't change peoples' prejudices [they must be taught], politics [they must be sold] and religious insecurities [they must be made and defended]-
but we are born of yellow sand and black mud... there is no end but in the beginning, no beginning that isn't the end, no set stone that didn't birth a river, and no water that didn't split like stone, we are free, we are always free to change ourselves...

and to those of you who have persistently argued in how pointless my 'logic' is, here's my thinking, maybe just maybe if we all just altered one little part of ourselves, if we made one stone fluid, if we stepped out of our comfortable homes/boxes of reality for just a minute on one soggy night and stood out in the rain without an umbrella of pretention to protect us from feeling the wholeness of the experience, we'd actually enter a dialogue with the world...
if we just tried till we soaked our sox...
maybe we'd change the world
and maybe we'd do it without even realizing it...