The Fall Moon

The Moon is still out so early this morning and all of the world is ready, you know. So many messages last night from the past it was insane but in a very good way. Movies can touch you at times so much that you can’t wait to jump from your seat and go out to life and start swimming in it again, maybe just enough so that when you turn your head you can get water enough from the pool in it. Was surprised to see that “Howl” was more than a beat remix with long winded talks about this and that. It was something very real – some form of history book cracked open and shown in glorious ways. Guess I have my father to thank for letting me know that the movie was even playing. I do.

I thought about the coal miners down in Chile and asked people before meetings if that had happened to them, would they live their lives any different than they had been living them. One woman, with kids and the rest of that kind of thing jumped. Her eyes came alive and she spoke the answer she had been waiting to speak to a question nobody had ever asked her. I thought she was going to tear off her clothes and start living the life she had always wanted to, but the guy next to me interrupted her with his own story that wasn’t really his own story but a canned tale to tell when he was silent for too long, and she lost the moment. I think men sometimes, often times, do this when they are feeling the need to prove themselves. Its unfortunate because often times, there are moments when people are about to let you inside of them and them they just close back up. I wonder what that woman was thinking about the rest of the day.

All of these people really have given in so quick to their jobs and the lives that they live that I can’t feel safe among them for too much longer. The next books will have to come out during the winter season and even though it’s fall and even though the sky is just starting to lighten now, I can feel the coolness of the east coast moving through me in the same ways it did in San Francisco during those early years. I keep bouncing back and forth between manuscripts and will have to make a clear choice, but perhaps that choice will be made for me and one of them will come at me in a dream – though I don’t dream much anymore. Guess that’s what the daytime is for.

Who is it for though that we are trying to reach? What kind of world is this now – one that we don’t look at because we’re paying attention to the wrong things. The distractions have become what’s real? That moon is still out and is showing me how rusty I really am. New York is so quiet during this time – I wish it would stay at 6:49 A.M. forever and let everyone else sleep until I exhaust myself . Now the moon is fighting to stay lit against the world that’s waking up for whatever reasons it’s deciding to wake. Intentions. I guess that’s what it’s all about. The way you talk at it – This woman was at the reading the other night and said that I should write a book about my family – because of how I introduced myself – said that I should write it just like Spoke it and that it was interesting that way. That rang true in the movie last night as well when the man playing Ginsberg said that the way you write should be more like how you would talk and if if you could get at that then it resonates as it should. As it should indeed. That’s very important I think and takes time throughout the day to really get at. Wow that moon is still bring even at 6:56 A.M.  – so nice and so worth being away for. I couldn’t get at this without some form of inspiration. What happens when we’re not inspired at all?

I think the rest of the world is stripping away and that means they’re getting dressed and ready for their walk down the roads. We, in America, are all looking down at the distractions laid in front of us because if we were to look up and really feel the world as it is, as it appears to be, we might not want to keep up with it. Would we walk out on this play? I’m not sure because now I can still think and feel here and get into what I’m supposed to be instead of this creation that I am trying to live up to. Our own creations that we are trying to liv up to but can’t do it because they are not real. What would happen if everyone was just trying to be themselves here – out here – in the world. That moon is still there. Those buildings are still standing so talk and have been for years. I keep beating everyone else out there to work and I enjoy the victories.

I guess that, in a pretty decent way, is what I’m going for in all of this. To discover who I am behind the person I’m creating myself to be. Once that’s fully stripped away an understanding of true self will come. Then the world. Then enlightenment. That last part no doubt comes towards the end after everything else has been peeled away and discarded.

Four birds are making their way across the sky. I can hear the bowl rattling in the kitchen from where Mingus is trying to get at the last of his food – he’s feeling better after we hid that stomach medicine in side his grub last night. Can’t keep vomiting. Everyone else is doing that. How to get at that voice inside thought?

There are pink clouds moving over the moon now and my race with it is almost complete but it has not been much of a race at all though we are both going in circles of sorts. It’s still out and refuses to go away – the moon might be something to look at when going for inspiration – something other than a human element. Something other than the sun or force like that. Even a force at all is not the best of things to be looking at.

Why writing in the morning helps.

So that movie last night really put me on track again and those ghosts that I claim to be running from I might be running to and that worries me a little bit because I can’t understand the direction. Now plates are clanking around in the kitchen and the movement outside is picking up as well. All of the exercises have been done and the signal flares launched to where they need to be. One of those birds on the building across the street might decide to leave what’s comfortable and go for another field of movement. Something to eat and be a part of – but not sure about such things these days. Not sure what it means if I keep writing along and then have to close myself to whatever eyes may be looking and not think about publication and only write for the sake of just writing.

Going to spend a little time with the wife now before the day goes. Love.


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