Beautiful endings

I'm sad. I don't understand people at all. Almost all the people I meet need something. I need almost nothing. I certainly won't ask anything of you. I don't understand why people keep getting angry with me, or disappointed because I don't give them what they need. If they would tell me what they need I would either do my best to give it to them, or tell them why I can't. But people don't tell me what they need. They seem to expect me to know without them saying. As if it is just obvious. But nothing is obvious. I know what I need, and I am the sole owner of that need. Why do others expect me to meet their needs without them owning the need themselves?

I still feel like an alien. Lile I got dropped off here and now by accident. My understanding of life doesn't seem to match with anyone else's understanding.

So what do I do? I trust my higher power. I am here, and I am here in someone else's life because that's where I am supposed to be. To play my single, solitary note at the exact moment in the universal symphony that it is required. And god tells me when to play it.

So, I come to the ocean for the peace that it gives me. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing in this life, but I trust that my father knows, and that he will put me exactly where and when he wants me.

Tommorow I move back to the hostel. I have my reservation, and enough money to pay for a week, or as long as I need. I'm sad to lose a friend, but I don't want, or have to live somewhere where someone gets angry with me every 10-14 days. I am what I am. God thinks I'm beautiful, and that's all I need. His will is perfect, his love is sufficient.

Nothing else to say, except that the waves are calm, the breeze is a kind of january florida cool, my boat is speeding toward me like a locomotive, and everything is exactly as it should be. Peace, love, and a beautiful sunset to you.

There's somethin' happenin' here

...what it is ain't exactly clear.

Is anyone checking out what is happening in north africa and the middle east? Best I can figure at the moment, there are a bunch of pissed off young people who have used electronic social networking to cause their governments some major headaches.

I've said it before and will say it again, the internet will be the single most important event in our evolution as a species since we developed opposing thumbs and a hypertrophied forebrain. It is what allows our forebrains to manifest a universal consciousness.

As far as I can tell so far, some people who are living under autocratic and oppressive leadership in places where the internet has allowed them to communicate with people who live in places where the ideas of freedom, equality, and justice are part of the fabric of life, are getting pissed off and comming together to demand change. It is the beginning of a global community. Power-loving dictators who survive by isolating their populace are on their way out. Aggression between nations, and one day, between individuals is comming to an end. Aggression is a primitive response to base desire. There is enough for everyone, and someday we will all learn how to share. How long will it take? I don't know. I am amazed at the changes since I was born. We had black and white tv when I was born, now we are close to having interactive holograms. Maybe we do already, its been awhile since I visited disneyworld.

We have a long way to go, but I am encouraged. Life evolves, it grows along the lines of good. Give a plant water and light, and it will become something beautiful. You don't have to do anything but leave it alone.

So Mr.Obama, Ms.Clinton, will you do right by humanity? Our national boundaries need to disolve. I know it won't happen in your tenure, but do you know that nationalism is a form of ignorance? Probably. Ancient chinese curse; may you live in interesting times...

I'm just speculating here, but I love watching it all happen. I hope we don't see successful repression of their movement. If it starts to happen, I really think we all need to say something.

Today is my soulmate's birthday.

A good day off

Still love south beach. Sitting at my old employer, news cafe, at the bar I was tending on september 11, 2001. Its my day off, and I took a risk and treated myself to a martini. Only one, they've caused me too much trouble in the past. Plus,I asked for kettle one, and I got something else, I'm pretty sure. Atleast it wasn't choked with vermouth. Anyway, there's a retired german couple to my left, a french woman of algerian descent to my right, and the bartender works two days a week here, and is five years away from retiring from a federal job at the airport. That makes him three years younger than me, but he looks ten years older. I don't know how I got so lucky, but I'm pushing 50 now and it is just sort of beginning to show, maybe I'm deluding myself. My grandmother says others say she doesn't look a day over 70. Maybe that's where I get the good genes.

Not that I'm worried, I am trying to make a daily light workout a habit. I don't push myself too hard, and I only care right now that I do it. I'm not trying to make myself attractive, those days are gone. I'm trying to lengthen my life a little. I'm getting old and I still don't have my boat. It is a secret fear that I will finally get it and then be diagnosed with cancer, or be too out of shape to take care of myself on a liveaboard.

Made it an early night and just finished some gnocchi with alfredo, portabello mushroom, and grilled chicken. My goodness, I forgot how good a cook I am...

My poor roommate has the flu. She finally gave up and took tomorrow off after staying in bed all day today. I've been nursing her to the best of my abilities, and within her tolerance. She should have had some gnocchi, instead she had marshmellow treats, and is now snoring. She needs more fluids, but atleast she is resting.

The french algerianchick had it all figured out. She's in her late 20's, maybe early 30's, and she definitely knew more than me or the bartender, both atleast a decade older. That's okay. When I was that age I also looked at 40-50 year old servers and figured they had nothing to teach me. That makes me a loser in my own 30 year old eyes, and just young in my almost 50 year old eyes. I'm ok with how I spent the last 15 years of my life. I didn't become a millionnaire, but I'm more enlightened, and in better shape than a lot of people my age. There I go comparing again. Waste of time.

Just finished watching cadilac records about the chess recording studio, muddy waters, little walter, chuck berry, and etta james. Can't figure out yet why I identify so much with them, but the movie always gives me hope when I watch it. It should depress me, but it doesn't. Makes me think about my soulmate. She's out there, thinking about me. And I'm here, thinking about her. That's why she's my soulmate. No matter what seperates us, we are still together and always will be. Love will see us through, at last.

A unique and beautiful singularity... I like that

I'm still grateful. I love south florida and south beach, despite, and because of all the unusualness. I like walking on the beach, and on meridian avenue. Meridian is lined by these huge, gnarly oaks. Atleast I think they are oaks. They give lots of shade, and break up the sidewalk. I hate uniformity, except in my work, and there is so much variety here.

I am thriving. I knew this is where I was supposed to be, and my life over the past seven months proves it to me. I feel like I took a wrong turn ten years or so ago, and now I'm finally back on the right path.

I like the archetecture, and the population. I like the feel of wild florida, even though it is only a whisper here. I miss backpacking on the west coast, and I think I need to make a point of doing that before it gets too hot. Just two or three days, by myself. Wish kenney could be with me. He'd like it too.

Its funny how so many people think they know what I should be doing. Maybe I invite it by not telling others what they should do. Sometimes it bothers me, but usually I just find it curious how anyone can think they have it together enough to tell someone else what to do. The best psychotherapists that I've met never told me what to do. They helped me find my own inner guide.

And judging others? Fuhgetaboutit. What could possibly make me think that I know anything about what anyone else is going through? Maybe I've done similar things. Maybe I've made similar mistakes. But how I got there, and what I learned, and what I did after, are all unique to me. I can share these experiences, but please don't let me think that I really know what anyone else is going through, or what they should be doing.

It sounds like I'm worring a lot about what others think. I'm not really. I do what I do and let others do the same. You like me, you don't like me, it doesn't much matter. My family thinks I'm doing well, they think I'm screwing up. Same thing. I'm going to keep on living my life according to what I believe to be my own truth. We are all alone, from birth to death. And that finite amount of time seems to go faster and faster the farther you get. If you don't find your own path, your own way, you are wasting a most precious gift... but then again, maybe not. I bet there are some interesting lessons to be learned from following others. For me though, that's going to have to wait for the next lifetime.

I'm just noticing that some people around me, who care about me, think that they know better how to live my life. I have a lot of joy, and true, a lot of pain, but my life is good. Let me share my joy with you, and if you are strong enough, my pain too. Pain shared is pain halved, afterall. And let me be. Be as in the verb, to exist as a unique and beautiful singularity.

I think that's enough for tonight.

Temporary respite

Yup, I'm still ok. I didn't move out. We had a couple pissed off days, but in the end we talked it out and came up with some rules we both agreed on and could both live with. She's my friend again, and I'm glad.

She has a friend who she thinks she could love. This friend might come here in a couple months. My roommate is nervous. She's considering a relationship, and even though it is uncertain, and a long way away, she is confronting her own vulnerability. I am happy for her, and I hope it happens. She deserves someone good, and I can't imagine leaving her alone. We will see...

A mutual friend has a scooter he is trying to get rid of. I've been looking for a project, other than my truck, and I'm thinking about getting this scooter and learning how they work. I think I could have some fun with it.

My grandmother asked me why I always have trouble with others. It was the kind of deflating, off-handedly cruel remark she is known for. The kind that makes women new to the family cry. When she said it, several smart-ass, and equally cruel responses came into my head, but what came out was "I don't know grandma ginnie, maybe that's just life". Maybe I'm a loser because I take chances and develop relationships with slightly unstable but interesting people. I definitely don't take the safe choices, almost as a rule. What fun is life if you already know what's going to happen? Why would you want a mcdonalds on every corner?

I've found myself lately getting irritated with all the childish behavior around me. Its something you have to deal with eventually on south beach. Pretty soon after you decide to be a responsible adult here you realize there aren't many who share your values. When a savings account is more important to you than a cool bicycle, you suddenly have a misplaced set of values. You can either accept being uncool, or move twenty blocks in any direction.

South beach is like neverneverland. I haven't met peter pan yet, but I have met quite a few who wannabe.

Our cat is in heat again. We have a week or so of her driving the still-sexually-immature jack russel puppy, billy, crazy to look forward to because my roommate is against animal birth control. I'm just glad I can close the bedroom door and let her deal with those unsatisfied female hormones. Everything happens for a reason, right? Maybe she will have a chance to work on some of her own stuff. I feel so... for her.

Part of me wishes I could feel that again too. But I've found my soulmate. I keep looking, but it seems all I'm really doing is waiting for her to come back to me. I sure don't want to be with someone who cares about how much other people are looking at them. And that's all I seem to find here. Its really crazy, and funny if you have the heart to laugh at, the lengths people here go to to get others to look at them.

I go nuts when I have to tear the bartender away from his facebook to make me a damn espresso. Sometimes I just make it myself. Afterall, he has another job, and I know this gig is just to earn a couple extra bucks in his spare time. Still, this is my bread and butter, and when you make my table wait because suzyQ says iloveyou, I gonna get a little miffed.

So I'm still here sportsfans. Living quietly in a land of rock stars. Happy to be me and to have my simple problems. My belly has once again become my biggest problem. I worry about working out enough and quitting smoking. Though I am curious to see how this frustration with the superficiality of south beach plays out. I'm sure not going to change it, and I'm not moving. I'm here to give good service to all the children of the world who come here to play, so they will tip me well, so I can buy my boat, so I can sail away and be an adult somewhere else.

Germans and control

Thank god for the beach. I can come here and be quiet and listen to the wind and the waves roll in.

My ex-wife is having a lot of fun tonight. About 14 emails so far. I finally just turned the volume off on my phone. I will unsubscribe tomorrow.

My roommate is mad now because I had a glass of wine at home. I think its time to change homes.

I used to think men were the more controlling gender of the species. Now I'm not so sure. Maybe I just attract controling women. Do I look like I need a mother?

Thank god for the beach, if I couldn't come here and hide, I might get aggressive. And I have never become aggressive withouit regretting it later.

Tomorrow I move. I can't live by someone elses rules. Especially someone who thinks a dog is an animal, i.e. sub-human. Dogs are supra-human. Humans are sub-canine. And I don't need another mother.

F-word. I'm surrounded by germans. I don't like germans. I'm out of here.

Ramblings while I wait for directions

It is a little funny to me that I woke up this morning and deleted the posting I wrote last night. I thought about it all day, and I'm still not sure why I did it. I'm not ashamed. Its more paranoia. I finally have a decent life circumstance after two years of tumbling, and I don't want to lose it.

I want to share who I am, and my choice to stop paying my bills is a critical piece of information. And also I am affraid someone will call my debtors and say, "hey, he has a little money now, here's where you can find him". But I'm not hiding from anyone. I'm not sharing my address, but my phone is the same. I do trust that god will give me my boat when its time, but I'm human, and want to make it happen as soon as I can. I'm getting old, and I want to sail while my body is still working well enough to do it.

I don't understand why my ex-wife thinks I owe her money. Especially after so long ignoring my calls, texts, and emails. She apparently thinks I wronged her, but I was there too, and as far as I can tell it was just two people who weren't right together. Anyway, its history. She can chase me as long as she needs to, I'm not going to retaliate. Or give her any money...

I live one day at a time. I like my mornings, drinking coffee and reading my books. I like my work, it keeps me humble. I like drinking and writing my blog at night. I like pulling the weeds of life on my days off. Cultivating inner peace, that's it. That's what I do because it seems like the only thing worth doing. I'm too old to build an empire, I don't have children. I have a soulmate who I hope to one day reunite with, and I know that at the moment I have not much to offer. So I cultivate peace in my mind and in my life while I save for the boat.

I'm starting to bore myself again. Life is challenging. It is often uncomfortable. But there is also a lot of good. A lot to smile about. I try to smile more than I frown. That's enough for tonight.

Fwd: Nothing new under the sun

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: "mark kilburn" <mkilbu01@gmail.com>
Date: Jan 14, 2011 9:33 PM
Subject: Nothing new under the sun
To: <go@blogger.com>

So my ex-wife has somehow found my new email address, and she has my phone number (I haven't changed it since I got my first cell phone nine years ago), and she has decided it would be fun to register me for every online promotion and mailing list she can find. It started with confirmation of my profile on match.com. actually, no, it started with registering me with publishers clearing house,then match,com, then tax relief, AT&T, vonage, and a few others that I forget now.

Today I've received about 12 junk email promotions, and easily 20 phone calls.

I spent about 15 minutes unsubscribing to mailing lists, and maybe 20 seconds clearing the record of missed calls. I figure she had to spend two or three times that registering me, so I'm ahead. She doesn't know I have plenty of practice ignoring calls from bill collectors. Now there's an aggressive bunch.

A couple years ago I had a pretty nice 50K/year hotel management job. My general manager was transferred, and they brought in a very nasty replacement. This person hated me before they even started the job. It took five months to get rid of me. I had a sizable credit card debt from youthful indescretion that I had contracted a debt management company to help me get on top of. I was doing pretty well for close to two years until I got fired.

I talked to the debt management company about my change in circumstances. They recommended I file bankruptcy, and referred me to a lawyer. Said I would get a discount. The lawyer said "no problem, we can take care of all of your debt, and it will only cost you $1500... up front". Well, if I had $1500, I probably would have tried to negotiate with my creditors. Since I didn't, I became banckrupt without filing for court protection. I just stopped paying.

Talk about a beehive... for a couple months, I got calls every 20 minutes, from 8:30 am until 9:00 pm. Holidays excluded. Eventually, most of the companies sold my accounts to debt collectors and wrote me off as bad debt. The collectors continued to harass me by phone for a few more months. But even they seemed to have limits.

I still get a few calls a week from automated systems, and maybe three a month from attorneys. And I still can't afford to file bankruptcy.

Anyway, my point is that now my ex-wife is harassing me, but she doesn't have a chance. It just tells me this is the worst she can do. I'm sure I could be found, but it would take a little time and money. More than anyone would get if they eventually did find me.

I went off the grid awhile ago. Now I have a job, and someone might eventually garnish my wages. They might take my tax refund. But I live on tips, and they can't touch those.

I don't know, I generally prefer to play by the rules. But when the rules make it impossible for me to play, I have to quit the game. So my credit score is in the toilet. I don't need credit. If I can't pay cash, I can't afford it. The only thing I want to own is a cheap boat. I expect to work until I die.

An honest days work for an honest dollar. I can live with that. When I can't work, I will die. And if you want something from me that I don't owe you, you are going to be waiting a long time.

I'm not beligerant. I don't expect anything from anyone. I don't want anything I don't earn, and I will always give to avoid conflict. But I have limits. I have a right to live my life unmolested. And if you molest me, I have a right to avoid you. My intention is to live a quiet life, sharing peace and love where and when I can. As long as I follow that path god will watch my back. He has already shown me.

So I am watching with detached humor to see how much my ex-wife really hates me. It has been three years or so since she divorced me, five since we have talked, and six since I've seen her when I went to europe to support her when she burried her mother. I can't help feeling sad for someone who can blame someone else for their misfortune for so long. I did it with my family, my parents, for a long time. It was very liberating when I finally let go of all expectation that anyone would rescue me. I do pray that she will find the same peace. And in the mean time, I can ignore more phone calls and unsubscribe to more promotions than she can sign me up for.

I'm guessing one or two months.

Work is the same. I made my signature caesar salad with grilled chicken tonight for my roommate who still has a cold. Went to the beach for a little while. Its january, and the ocean is still there. The waves still pile on to the shore, and the moon still moves from east to west every night. I'm still alive, and I am grateful.

Peanut butter

Have you noticed that the days are getting longer? Its funny how that means the sun is getting closer, but it won't get warmer for another month. I love florida in the winter. A cold day is when I have to wear jeans and a thermal shirt. Still, its too cold, I have to move further south.

I am closing in on my boat. Slowly but surely. One table at a time. And believe me, I earn my money. I'm working on lincoln road now. Lincoln road is now what ocean drive was ten years ago. Its interesting to watch how things change. More about that another time.

I just want to make a brief statement about pasta. I have never had better pasta than at the place I work now. Most of it they make themselves, and they cook it perfectly; al dente. I can't tell you the derivation of al dente, but I can tell you it means a little hard. And the experience is different than I've ever had. I love New Yorkers, but I lose a little respect when they tell me the pasta is hard, so it is over-cooked. First of all, it is cooked perfectly, they are just used to eating over-cooked (soft) pasta.

Second, why do you go some place different and expect it to be the same as your home? How disappointing. When I was getting ready to leave New York, I traveled to a couple different places to see where I might like to live. It was so depressing, because outside of the city, every place was pretty much just like any other. They all had the same stores, similar faux archetecture, and not much that was real and unique.

Now New Yorkers are in my home, getting upset because things here aren't the same as in New York (and, by implication, the correct way). Might as well open a Target on Times Square. A Best-Buy overlooking Central Park. Maybe in Central Park. Don't you travel to experience things that are different? Do you really want things to be the same every where you go?

Ok, I'm getting a little too far out, but I am just trying to make the point that americans seem to want an homogeneous world, and I can't think of much that could be worse. I think of New York, and even South Beach as a couple of the last bastions of individuality. To have New Yorkers come here and tell me the pasta is over-cooked depresses the hell out of me.

Actually, no. It doesn't depress me. There are a lot of people who don't want to try anything new. Who think anything different or strange is bad and scary. They are like children. And they cheat themselves out of the wonder and beauty that is everywhere.

We live in a country that is dominated by this kind of thinking. I moved here, away from a place full of such people. I remember being with a friend after work there, having a glass of wine at a local franchise bar. I had my legs crossed, one knee over the other. I realized that most of the people around me probably thought I was gay because of my posture and my choice of drinks. Not that it matters...

But it did matter there. Here, homosexuals are everywhere, and Guess the Gender can actually be challenging. Sheep. That's what most of this country are. Maybe the world too... now that's a depressing thought. We define ourselves by how we compare with others, and we define others by how they conform to us. I know this sounds so high school, but look around you and tell me it isn't true.

And also...

Inside each ass-hole New Yorker, and every backward Newnanite, and me too, is a little kid who wants to learn new things. Even if they are scary. Its what we do with thumbs and a hypertrophied forebrain. We create, learn, and make our world better. So how did we get stuck on stupid and think there has to be a mcdonalds, a walgreens, and soft pasta wherever we go? Does it have anything to do with television? And will cell phones and the internet make it better or worse?

I need to write about my views on a free market economy and the dissolution of borders in the age of instant global communication. South Beach is definitely a microcosm of much of the globe. This is where the children of the world come to play.

Started my truck today, drove it to the library and back to refresh the battery. It felt good to be able to control a quarter ton of mobile machinery with one finger and a toe. She needs work, but she's a dodge. A soldier, like me. Made it through another day, and looking forward to more again tomorrow.

The days are getting longer, that means I have more time to write. More on communal evolution and the world as a single organism later.

Sorry no picture tonight.

You never really know

Apparently my roommate's confrontation was a good thing. In the morning the kid said he thought a lot about it, and decided to "take control" of his life. He put together a resume, and actually got a job that day. So we will see what happens.

I had the day off, again... I'm getting spoiled. Put a new battery in my truck and cleaned it out. It is an interesting experience to "move in" to my roommate's place. Roots. They may be tiny roots, like sprouting a sprig in water, but they are roots in an apartment with a friend. Not on a boat, but I'm closer to my boat now.

I'm making a solid life. I sleep, shower, work. I relax at home and read, drink coffee. I still am not exercising regularly, and I haven't unpacked my suitcase yet, but it is a work in progress. Today I opened a bank account, and put some money in savings. My new boat fund. Like a friend said, it's not about having no posessions, but about avoiding excess. I like a sparse life and simple pleasures.

It feels really good to have my truck back, and to have a boat fund. Now I can start fixing all the little things on the truck that need to be repaired in my spare time while I keep putting money in that savings account. And before you know it, I will have some boat under my feet.

Today was a good day. One day to myself a week is enough. My job isn't that hard, I have time to relax everyday, and working gives my life some structure.

...

Tuesday morning. My roommate found out some more details of our kid's behavior. She'd had enough, she told him to leave this morning. He didn't take it well. Started crying, begging, pleading. She was firm. I told him he was disrespecting her. And he was. Someone helps you, you don't expect more. Even if they later change their opinion of you, you thank them and go on, let them go on. But our kid? He became hysterical, even took a butter knife and slashed at his wrists and stomach.

That's when my adreniline kicked in. I made him put the knife down and leave. Used my NCO voice. I haven't used that in years. It definitely gets peoples attention. He finished packing outside, my friend went to work, and I settled into my morning routine.

I have to trust that things happen the way they're supposed to. I have a fear that she undid the good she had done. On the other hand, he has a serious case of "the world owes me"'s. More than could be undone by one confrontation. I hope he pulls it together, goes to work, and reaffirms that only he is responsible for himself.

Me, I'm still thankful. What did I learn from this kid? I'm not sure yet. I definitely saw myself in him. Takes one to know one. We will see. Maybe tomorrow I'll go for a run before work.

I'm here for the water

The past is in the past, and if you want me to know what you are like, show me, don't tell me. That's what my roommate and I told the 22 year old kid from Paris who is staying with us for a few days when we found out he has been lying about his circumstances.

She brought him home a couple days ago. I came home from work and she said he would be the roommate of a friend of hers when she came back from vacation in about 10 days, he is from her city, and he would stay with us until then. I said ok.

My roommate is pretty sharp. It only took her two days to find out his mother didn't die in september, and he didn't arrive in miami the morning she met him. She also doesn't pull any punches. She had him crying pretty quickly. Since they were speaking french, I only had a general idea of what they were talking about, but I could tell he wasn't being abused, just confronted with the truth.

We had a day off together yesterday. Spent the day going 170 blocks north for a picinic on the bus. It was too cold for the beach, though we toughed it out for about 20 minutes. Shopped for flip-flops, and people -watched at a starbucks on Lincoln road. I really like having a partner without the complications of sexual intimacy. We are emotionally intimate. Except for the lack of sex, it's like a good marriage.

Most of the people on south beach are children, no matter how old they are. It makes for interesting times. Being an old man, I like the energy, and the easy comraderie. Since I am usually in bed by 10 or 11, I don't get into the life-draining habits like I did before, and like I see so many others still doing. I like waking up at seven or so, with no hangover and money in my pocket, having my coffee, and walking a mile to work on quiet streets.

No matter where you go, there you are (in the immortal words of Buckaroo Bonzai). You take your issues with you, and the flip-side is if you have some peace, you can live in a crazy place without being crazy. Me, I'm here to buy a boat, but I really enjoy watching the show. I love to watch people, and I love to talk to them. There are quite a few unusual people here. And you never really know what is true, and what is fiction. But if you don't open your wallet or your home, it doesn't really matter.

That's sort of the problem with this kid. My roommate brought him into our home. I don't have much, but I do have a couple things that could be pawned that I don't really want to lose. And really, it wouldn't be the loss of the thing, my "things" mostly have emotional significance to me. I don't want to experience the loss, or live with the suspicion if anything disappeared. I don't like having to guard anything.

But he hasn't stolen so far, except for eating some of my peanuts, and drinking some of her soda, and we confronted this. She was all over him tonight, and I hope he is mature enough to learn from it. I didn't really learn about taking care of myself until this year. He would be way ahead of the game if he got it. Anyway, for sure he's not going to have a roommate in a few days, or a place to stay for that matter, if he doesn't show some rudamentry improvement immediately.

Going 17 miles north was like being on vacation. We were in florida vacationland, far away from anything south beach, and it only cost two bucks to get there. I finally had a key made for my truck, but after three months, the battery is dead. I'll get it going soon, and maybe fix some other stuff on it that needs fixing. I've been looking for a hobbie.

The weather is pleasant. Life is good.

Guess I'm back online...

It appears that I need to write. By posting this blog, sending my thoughts into the ether where anyone can read them, as opposed to writing them in a journal where no one is supposed to read them, I create a framework in my head for my experiences that is based on living the good life. A life carried by god. This is not a bitch book. I am comming to redefine it as a sort of ship's log, without the ship.

I want to talk about my experience of life, how I feel subtle divine intervention through my daily existence, and how I cope with my experiences when I don't feel so joyful. I want to share my experiences trudging the road to happy destiny. And I don't need anyone to read it. If you happen to tune back in, and like what you read, still, feel free to share it. But I'm not going to tell anyone, many people, that I'm writing again, just because I'm not writing to an audience. I am loging my travels, sharing what I learn with the next guy who happens on to the same stretch of road for a short time.

Writing about my life when I know someone else will read it makes me think about what an outside observer might think, and by extension, how I might be judged by god. Now, I don't believe in any kind of reckoning when you die. I believe you create the circumstances of your life, and consequently your afterlife, if there is such a thing. We assemble the elements of our existence one piece at a time, ultimately creating heaven, hell, or something in between, while we are here at this time, in this life.

But everything we do, every thought we think has a ripple effect in our lives. My life anyway. Lately, I keep hearing echos from my past reverbirating through my present. Buddha said if you want to understand the past, look at the present, for it is the effect of the past. If you want to understand the future, look at the present, for it is the cause of the future.

How I conceptualize my daily experience has everything to do with how I respond to it, and consequently what I create. By writing to you, I have to get outside myself, and be a little more objective... admit when I am wrong sometimes, and recognize when god gives a little nudge to my life. If I keep these things to myself, it is too easy for me to start exaggerating this, minimizing that, and before you know it, my reality is so far off base that it's too much to bear and I start using chemicals to tolerate the dissonance. That's why I'm writing tonight.

I haven't used, haven't even gotten close, but I have noticed myself thinking things, going down paths that I know I shouldn't be on. I stopped writing this blog because I figured people reading who were waiting for me to get my boat would be bored. I have decided to start again because I will go crazy if I don't. So if I bore you, I understand, don't read. But I'm gonna keep writing until it is time to stop again.

So I guess the blog has evolved from a homeless guy trying to liveaboard, to just a guy trying to liveaboard, sharing his neuroses and divine inspiration as he goes. Not sure is there is much more of a theme than that. Just one more voice, but I'm affraid I have to speak it out loud.

So I have so much I want to tell you about. The waitress who has to yell all the time to define herself, my tribulations with the woman I live with, the holidays on south beach, why I want a eukaleile (sp?)... I have to save something for tomorrow. But I will mention how much I like living somewhere where so many languages are spoken. Its the same reason I like to be abroad. Most of the time I find people talk about really stupid stuff. They often talk just to justify their existence, to prove they are here, maybe they are affraid to disappear, I don't know. I do know that it is hard to tune out the conversations around me, but when they are in a different language, I can just attend to the musical qualities of the voice without being bothered by meaning. I hear the emotion of communication without being distracted by the content. I like that.

So blogland, I'm back, for what it's worth. You can click on my link and hear another opinion about living on south beach. We all know what opinions are like, everyone has one. But hey, I plan to have fun. Writing about my life keeps it fun. If you are reading, I hope you have some fun too.

Cool breezes, clear skys, the wind at your back, and a sail to catch it with. ;)

P.s. pictures to come....