I like the way the sea smells

I can think of only one thing better than sitting on the beach at night listening to reggae, and that is sitting on a boat at night listening to reggae.

Who really knows?

Season is winding down. My boat fund has been seriously diminished by my choice to help a friend in need. She asked me recently when I would get my boat. I said "maybe next year." Unless I hit the lotto, it ain't happening this year. We are comming to the slim time of year. I'm not too worried yet, we still have a few profitable weeks comming, and I am aware that I need to save. I know its comming, and the fat isn't quite gone yet. Now I'm adjusting my habits.

Still, I struggle a lot with life. When money is an issue, I get depressed. I'm old enough now, and sober enough to see it comming so I can mitigate... I have to keep a balance between intelligent self-denial and reasonable self-indulgence. I don't like being poor, and I like being hungry and homeless even less. I know that how I interpret the world has everything to do with how my world evolves. The more I love, the more love comes back to me. The more I dislike, the more alone I become.

I have a very good friend who appreciates me and takes care of me according to her abilities. I also take care of her according to my abilities, and I have a nurturing home as a result. That is a lot in this world.

I had a thought this morning on my walk to work. What if reincarnation is real, but this is the first life for everyone in this world? What if in the next life we actually remember the life we lived this time? Questions about life-after-life really seem, to me, to be the cause of a lot of problems in this life. Isn't it reasonable to live our lives now as though there is nothing beyond our death? We have no quantifiable evidence, that I know of, that anything happens after you die. That doesn't mean you become a heathen utilitarian in this life; actions have clear consequences.

I don't think an intelligent person can make decisions about their behavior in this life based on any belief in any kind of consequences after you die. Heaven is a lie. Paradise is a lie. You create your own heaven or hell in this life, and when you die, it is over.

Should my grandmother be afraid to die? Absolutely not. She has been a good person in this life. If there is a post-mortum accounting, she has little to fear. If this is all there is, she has some great memories, I'm sure, and she has left goodness in her wake. If she had lived a life like the dealers I know, taking advantage of anyone she could find, not unlike some executives I know, she would be living the consequences. If she had riches, they would seem meaningless. She might distrust anyone close to her. Afterall, we ascribe our own motives to everyone around us. But she has tried, as far as I can tell, to be loving, forgiving, and generous. What comes around goes around. Forever, maybe...

So I guess my point is this; live your life as though there is nothing else. That way if there isn't anything else, you're in good shape. And if there is something else, you've laid a good foundation for what's to come. If jesus really was god in carnate, then he knows what we are faced with every day. Just do your best. Live and let live.

And I guess that's all I have to say about that. :)

The road less traveled

Someone told me I look innocent tonight... that's a new one. I responded "maybe I am, maybe I'm not". Before she told me that, I was thinking about this motor-head I used to smoke crack with. It was another low point in my life, in atlanta. I had a dealer I used to go visit. He had a house and a couple cars in the drive. I'd buy a 60 or so, and sit in one of the cars with the only other white guy within two miles, and we'd smoke until it was gone. Sometimes we looked at engines, he fixed a couple things on my truck, sometimes we watched porn on the onboard video. He was fixing up the dealers wheels. One time the dealer brought a white chick with the eightball i'd just bought. She was a crack-whore, I guess we were supposed to have sex. She stayed with me until 11 or 12 the next day. We never had sex. I took her home. She called me later saying she'd "found" some money, and did I want to party more? I knew what she probably did to get the money, and by then, I was already on the six or seven hour long slog back to sober.

This stuff really happened. I lived it. And the stuff I've seen is nothing compared to what I know others have lived through. Some of the people I've known... I would never want to walk in their shoes. But I've known them. I've loved a couple of them. And I haven't even begun to talk about the things I saw before, when I was a junkie.

Now I'm waiting for god to let me have a boat. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing in the mean time, so I work, I care for my friends, and I wait. And I thank him that I don't have to do the things I used to do. I drink, I write, I wait. I take a couple pictures.

I watch out for anger and resentment. Those are the things that made me depressed, that made me use. I promise myself I will never ask for anything I can't get by myself or do without. I may die without ever getting my boat, but I will live the way I believe I am supposed to live; without regrets, in the thick of it. If I die landlocked and poor, I can say that I never conformed. And I will believe that I am better for it.

I do like the sunsets here

My life is happy and boring again. The world is crazy, but it always has been, and always will be. Things happen the way they're supposed to. Good people suffer. Bad people suffer too. As a species, we evole.

I'm watching saudi arabia and lybia and wisconsin. I want to go to japan to help with rescue and rebuilding, but I want my boat more. There will be other disasters and places where I am needed in the future. Now my roommate needs me. She's hitting a low. Unemployment is wearing on her. I am very happy that I am bringing in enough to cover both our expenses and even buy a meal out once in a while. But she needs to support herself. Being unable to is definitely wearing on her, but she may have a bartending position starting this comming weekend.

Staff is changing at my restuarant. I'm working seven days a week at the moment, but that's okay. I like the structure working every day gives me, and the money isn't bad either. I've turned into the goto guy when there's a staff shortage, and I'm really happy to be together enough to always say yes.

Mostly I'm just really happy to know that I am exactly where and when I am supposed to be. Its been a long time since I've felt this way. I can't change much in this world, but I am happy to be able to treat just about everyone I interact with with kindness and good will.

Last night at about 4:30 am a couple drunk assholes tried to break into my truck. Billy the jack russell heard them first and woke me up. We both went outside, and we had the desired effect; first a beefy little dog in a pirate T-shirt appearing and barking out of nowhere, then a crazy old guy in his underwear yelling "stay out of my truck". Hee hee hee. They tried to act tough, but I know we scared them, and they didn't bother us any more. Punks.

Life is full of fun little moments like that. They woke my friend up though, and we both had trouble getting back to sleep. Still, I made it to work on time despite the spring forward, and she got some sleep too.

So all's well that ends well. I'm still seperated from my soulmate, but she knows I'm okay, and I know she's still alive. Summer is comming fast, but we still have lovely cool evenings and beautiful sunsets in south florida. Its good to be home.

Slovak women

I am very far away from driving down to my dealer's place to pick up a bag and spend away another night in crackland. And also, I find myself in that in-between world that invites self-destruction. One of our friends came by tonight. He was born northafrican, speaks arabic, french, spanish, and english. He was forlorn about losing his slovak girlfriend...

I know something about slovak women; they are very beautiful, and they fight with shovels. Everytime I see this guy, I want to do push-ups and brush up on my judo, and wrestling take-downs.

This is my life now. I give service to everyone, and I fight the urge to be aggressive. I mentioned satan a couple postings ago. Satan lives on my left shoulder. He whispers in my ear constantly. Pride, anger, envy, covetousness, greed, gluttony, and sloth. There is always a voice encouraging me to be upset, to turn against others.

And god lives on my right shoulder. His voice is a whisper. When I give up suddenly and ask for guidence, it is him that turns my attention toward a bird picking at garbage. He says you will never be hungry. He knows what I need before I do. He says never forget that I will never leave you. He says be happy now, because today, you have everything you need. And, he says, tomorrow will be the same.

So, I guess there's not much to say. My life is good. I have everything I need, and I am able to give love to others every day. What else is there? My soulmate? She is for another lifetime. Maybe there is someone who would like to be with me in this life. Maybe not. We'll see.

I have reggae and good earphones. I have beautiful trees to hear my thoughts, a great dog to love me, and a very good friend to cook mussels for me once in awhile. The moon is waxing, the weather is becomming summer-like. The nights are cool, I have a nice bed, sheltered from the rain and the mosquitos.

I remember driving drunk up to my dealer's place in sandy springs through downtown atlanta. I can remember almost every curve, and how my craving increased, the closer I got. I remember the satisfaction of pulling into his drive and him answering my call. Then the bliss of my first hit before I pulled out of his driveway. I remember not remembering much that came after, and I remember a couple highway landmarks, stoned, that always got me back home. And I am so grateful that I don't have to do that anymore.

I don't have to kill my hurt with cocaine anymore because I have given up my hurt. I like where I live, I like where I work, I like how I spend my time away from work. Life is hard, I can't change that. But we all choose our problems, and I have made enough good choices now, that I can live with my problems. Actually, at the momemt, I find myself helping those I care about to make choices they can live with too. I think that's what they mean by paying it forward. Please let me keep my head about me enogh to continue to pay it forward.

Cool breezes, and a steady wind at your back..