a tale under two cities where

lying in bed last night i had an epiphany; i briefly glimpsed the vast inner mechanisms, dirty cogs and worn sprockets that infinitely mesh together in unfathomable rhythmic timing to create all the patterns and predicaments i interpret as life. the links and connections that the waking mind senses subconsciously, but are only ever hinted at cryptically through poetry and art, all became illuminated with the light of, well, if not exactly the sun, at least a flickering flourescent. and a door opened, a true knowledge and understanding of myself, my motivations; needs. and in that moment, i was aware of such beauty! and that this was fundamental; visceral and more true than anything i had ever known. and in an unknowable peace, i slept. today i can't remember any of it. but i do know that i didn't steal your goddamned underwear.

there are to be concerts tonight, two of relevance anyway. one is of a certain band that i'm loosely affiliated with. and it promises to be unpredictable. in another city, a place i've never been, with people i don't know, and expected to be tomorrow; hence there was no practice. therefore, i embrace the random. because it's all there is. and in another town, this town in particular, at the other: a wonderful woman who has recently suffered a terrible unmentionable theft, will sing with her voice like the clouds. i know, of course, of all this, but other parties may be unaware of the circumstances. and i suspect that one of us may anticipate, ultimately with releif at a no show, while the other will hope with only his disapointment to show for it.

"it's a beard, spliced with cheese and a piece of chalk"; or "how i spent my summer vacation"

how crazy is it to have a beard, when you live in the tropics? i mean, it's probably not the smartest thing to do, huh? don't get me wrong, i've gone fuzzy and have practically developed a razor allergy, but i have noticed that this has seemed like the hottest summer ever. probably not a coincidence. although, the a/c in my being broke may be contributing, as well. and why is a beard so appealing anyway? "oh man! i got it!! i think i want to look more like a bear." what the hell is that? i know that for me, the half-formed concept for the original growth was some kind of "transformation," like some kind of man-boy caterpillar becoming a more beatific and refined adult version of himself. a break from the past. there was also a conscious desire to erect a barrier between my raw, symbolically exposed face and the outside world (the same world that was seemingly intent on trying to kill me, at least at the time.) and you know what? this crazy scraggle appears to actually be working for those purposes. and now that i've started to believe in myself a bit more, become at least more comfortable in my own (furrier) skin, the beard and i have become inseparable, indistinguishable. plus, the chicks dig it. no, really. yeah, i don't get that either, but i'm not going to ask to many questions. so i guess i'll just have to invest in some more deodorant sticks and thinner, 'summerier' clothes, because apparently a beard is man's best friend.