Clapping On The Down Beat

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Flashback March 13, 2013

Filed under: Interests — clappingonthedownbeat @ 8:18 PM
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I had a pile of books accumulating on my desk.  I was looking for a place to keep them, when I stumbled upon a stack of old journals.  I used to write a lot.  I would write down things that happened, trips I took, prose, poems, quotes I liked.  These journals were like a 20 year flashback at myself.  Most of them I flipped through and laughed at, one I saved.  I thought it would be funny to post a few random passages from the journal.  Easier to keep in this electronic format than space on the shelves.  Please pardon and forgive the teenage angst.

Reading these does make me want to finish the short story I was writing a few years ago.  Maybe the 18/19 year old does have a contribution.

“Non-Stop”

Traveling to Burma on an ostrich back, I encountered a Pygmy who gave me three gold coins and then made me catch the sun swimming into the ocean.  But the lost souls tried to suck me down.  

I ran cross-country to find a pilgrimage.  I met my mother, who said to be home for dinner, flying on a eagles back chasing night and day.  

Digging my way to China, I met a monk, who tried to convert me.  He said “Confucius say this, and Confucius say that”.  But it only made me confused.  

I tried to turn the scripture wheel when a hand grabbed me and said “walk this way”.  I did.  To a graveyard of people dressed in black carrying flowers with pale purple faces. I jumped through the day and leaped over a river deep into the jungle.

A monkey tribe adopted me and fed me ants.  I spoiled my dinner.  

Elvis came swinging by and took me on a rock tour.  I still have the souvenir.

I saw a war and fought on the right side, or maybe it was the left.  I guess only if you face east.  

I was driving to the moon, late for an appointment.  I was catching moonbeams in a jar along the way, but forgot to poke holes in the lid.  

I saw snow in August.  I still don’t know what three gold coins will buy.  

Saw pigs fly, waited till the cows came home, took a day car by night across the country, under tunnels, stood on her purple majesties, but they were brown.  

I made a wish that never came true.  Got stuck in an apple tree.  Cried wolf.  Ran with the buffaloes.  Taught Eisenstein math, and Joan courage, told Franklin about light and warned Napoleon, but I don’t speak french, only Hungarian, which I learned in China.

Then I was told to stop jumping on the bed.

 

“Never give up on anybody.  Miracles happen everyday.  Learn to listen.  Opportunity sometimes knocks very softly.  Never deprive anyone of hope, it might be all they have.  Never cut what can be untied.  Live your life as an exclamation, not an explanation.  Never waste an opportunity to tell someone you love them.” 

 

Fight or Flight

tight pinching eroding pain grasping

the inside of my throat

constricting chocking  I can not breath or speak

the words jump out  hyperventilating

accompanied by a ticket tape parade of tears

lost in my own little world

watching life pass by

it seems so important

but really its nothing

I am a flake of dandruff on the world’s shoulder

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