Poop!

I don't know what Memorial Day memorializes, never have, never will. Probably some kinda Pearl Harbor thing would be my best guess. I could look it up on the net and find out but why go to all that trouble since I don't really care?

I slept until 12:30 today, WOW! I awoke to my african roomie cooking chicken downstairs. I rolled out of bed and did my 40 sit-ups, listened to the radio and finally took a shower.

I expected the library to be packed but it is surprisingly empty, thank god.

I only have a month and a couple days left before I get out of rehab. I'm moving into a house in the city on the 1st of June. I may be starting an office gig June 4th but I don't know yet.

So many exciting changes are just around the corner. Hopefully all of them will be for the better.

The other day as I was reading this lame ass book in my room, I happened to look out my window and I saw a bald eagle landing on the tippy top of an evergreen somewhere across the street. There's a group of about 5 or 6 of these very tall and I presume old evergreens across the way. Anyways, the bald eagle clung tightly to the uppermost extension of this marvelous tree, using its tail feathers to help keep its balance. Suddenly it seemed to flex all of its muscles and move its wings in a little squeezing type motion and expelled the biggest, whitest squirt of bird shit I have ever witnessed in my entire life. Who knew bald eagles had white shit? Not me. Who knew bald eagles shit in massive expulsions? Not me. Not me until the other day. And then guess what happened. A raven who must not've liked the bald eagle perching there or perhaps a raven who took offense at the large bowel movement the eagle had just indulged in started dive-bombing the bald eagel over and over again. The raven made contact with the bald eagle's back at least twice, ruffling its feathers and possibly doing immeasurable and irreparable harm to the bald eagle's feathers which are, by the way, protected by federal law. So after a few minutes of dive-bombing this poor bald eagle who was just minding his own business and taking a shit the raven got a little tired and landed on a nearby tree. But after a short breather the raven started dive-bombing the bald eagle again! This time the raven got its way and the eagle finally took off. The raven gave chase and I watched them fly away together, the raven hot on the bald eagle's heels.

The snake wrapped itself tightly around the trunk of the developing bush hoping to blend in and camoflauge itself from the restless looks of the men inspecting it. 'Leave me alone,' it seemed to say. 'Nothing to see here, move along now' it cried. One man took a fallen twig and starting poking at the snake as his brethren stood, mouths gaping as if stung by some paralyzing mystery bug.

The snake, unbeknownst to the men, had wings that it had tightly retracted so they molded to the shape of its body. They were the same wings as insects have though one might expect them to be more like bat wings. They were waxy and transparent.

The winged serpent decided he'd had enough of this torture and deciding that the men were not going to let him be it quickly unleashed its wings in the blink of an eye as it slithered upwards toward the bush's apex. Once there the snake took flight, high and fast; never to be seen again.

The arch henchmen and his legions gather wrecklessly and drunkenly at the city gates. Their tattered flags flap violently in the wind. The hoarse yells of a million men echo through the valley at the city gate's feet. "Open up," they cry. "Or you'll be sorry!!!" they shout. The swarming masses are gathering energy for the great push. Once the city gates are toppled they will spill in like water, drowning all that is in their path and more. Their monkey hordes will feast on rotting corpses and their spears will cast long black shadows in the day's twilight.

An eruption of fever pitch screams followed by sudden silence will ensue. The glory of the former kingdom no longer even known. Cows chew their cud dilligently in the pastures. Children wash their feet after a long day of playing in the streets. Mothers serve dinner, possibly for the last time. Fathers stand watch as the seething horde grows bigger and more frantic outside the city gates.

"The whole world ends tomorrow," one child announces to his dinner table. His mother nods in reluctant sorrow.

This is life, up & down. In and out and round-about. The sun rises the rooster crows ancient braves shoot arrows with invisible bows. The hunting ground of post mortem bliss filled with buffaloes who do not shit. The moon and sun chase each other through the sky. While the journeying brave stops to ponder why.

The end of the trail or so the t-shirt says. Woeful recollections and inspiring tombs. The wolves are hungry, blood thirsty their bellies aching for meat. The precious metals and stones reflect beautifully the sun's omnipotent glory.

The women weave baskets and hunt for small game. They tell stories by the river's edge from generations ago retold with their own personal flair. The cool breeze tosses their hair gently as they reminisce.

Horses stand like statues against the plain winds at night. Their manes look dapper in the pale moon light. Their hooves and noses take me back to another time, before ghosts, before daggers, before smoke, before mirrors.

The nose of a horse is a wonderful thing, I must say. Have you ever touched one? It's so soft yet massive. Each of their nostrils is the diameter of a silver dollar. There are little hairs sprouting out like cat whiskers not to mention the peach fuzz that coats the entire mechanism accounting for its peach like softness.

I know where I've been and I know what I've done. I've seen what I've seen and sung what I've sung. Some they come test me, even arrest me. But I know I'm free!

My landlord is a H.S. teacher/career counselor. He has been giving me weird vibes lately. I think he is trying to chase me off without coming right out and saying it. Like this hasn't happened before.

He eyes me carefully as if he's inspecting me for some kind of social violation. I've got news, I'm not one of his students. The bummer is that he has issues with boundaries. It states clearly in our lease that he is to give 24 hours notice before entering my room but he does so whenever he wants and speaks non-chalantly about it later. I would never consider going into his room even when he leaves the door cracked as he's been doing recently. I just don't give enough of a shit about him to do that. But he inspects me, studies me. It's typical insecurity. He has to find things that let him know what Winston's really up to, to make himself feel better about himself.

The other day he implied that I was gay by mentioning that it will be nice when I find a "partner"....

Doth thou hateth me reader? Appreciateth me thine patronage, I most certainly do. Busty goddess doth thou knoweth the graviational pull thy cleavage exherts upon my extremeties? But I digress, speaketh and liveth truthfully and giveth many men erections ye sexy beast. May thine yoke be heavy laden with gifts from loving spectators and thine eaves full of flowers. May thy bounciness continue for decades to come and may your womb produceth many female offspring to propeleth thy great bosoms into the next century. I hereby deem thee, oh library pet, the most well endowed maiden who hath ever crossed my path at this library we siteth at. Your praises shall be read around the world and in other countries. Tales of your mighty bosoms shall resound through valley floors from high peaks. The countryside shall singeth thy praise and the city shall burn oil lamps in your honor. Men shall drink bottles of wine and thinketh about thee. Women shall brood and envy thee. Oh what great wonders thou hast bestoweth upon us today mighty woman. I shall call you "brick house" from this day forth. May I have the good fortune to seeeth thee everytime I cometh to this establishment.

Thy humble servant,
Winston

My god, Saturday was fucking beautiful. I washed my car, broken fog lamps and all, it looked stunning sitting there all shiny like new. I started running, with my shirt off! Thanks to my mediterranean skin I am already brown as a bean and am rocking the shorts and T-shirt to my delight. I do sit-ups twice a day and run everyday. I was using the local school's track until they ran me off yesterday saying it is a closed campus. I went directly to the principal's office and asked why I couldn't use the track since it was going unused and I lived across the street and pay taxes afterall. The principal explained that we are living in a time of heightened campus security so I asked her how on earth I could possibly pose a threat to campus security. She sighed and offered me a form giving the school permission to do a background check which, upon passing, will allow me to be considered a "volunteer" at the school which will allow me to use their track. I filled it out and was told it will take 3 school days to process.

I'm looking forward to using their track, it's nice!

I awoke to the sudden and blaring reality that my life was in danger. To have endangered myself in this manner is absolute and undeniable stupidity. The vocation and trade school of her pupils called out to me with words of forlorn danger. I wanted to go back to sleep but the sound of the school bells kept ringing in my head. I looked at the floor hoping to see some sign of life but all I saw were my remote controls and white carpet. "Damn!" I said to myself. "How can this be happening?!" My dog was now but a distant, happy memory.

And then it hit me, I was forgetting that one lesson I'd learned so long ago. And believe you me it came at a price. I remembered that all is nothing. That solitude may be bliss not misery. That we are all just dust in the wind as Joan Baez so lovingly taught us. So don't care about things like you do you worry wart! In attaining this enlightened and zen like state it also dawned on me that one must find things in their life that make it worth while but in so doing you may lose the meaning and insight of your enlightened state.

So it's a fine line we must walk. Between worry and carelessness. Between loathing and love.

The crazy thing is that when I heard her voice I immediately hung up! Just like a goddamn 5th grader or even worse like Adam Sandler used to do on Saturday Night Live when he had that sketch where he'd call his ex-girlfriend Nicole (played by Shannon D. from 90210) and then hang up on her. It was a public access spoof...funny stuff!

Speaking of funny Saturday Night Live stuff, here's something I found randomly when googling image searches for the aforementioned sketch (which I, unfortunately, did not find):

Feeling good in the neighborhood. No more fits waking me at 5am to step out and get high. I really am a pot addict. I always have to have my own supply. Smoking socially has never been a desirable option. With alcoholics, even after a long period of abstinence, if they go back to drinking their need to drink does not diminish with time. You go right back to needing as much as you did the day you quit. Your body doesn't reset unfortunately. I wish I could just smoke here and there but I can't. So I think it's time to really quit. I can't believe I'm saying that...

I have tasted love once - full blown. It was the most powerful thing I have ever known. They say that hate is what has shaped world history, not love. They say hate/anger is a more powerful emotion but I beg to differ. To take the progression of this post in a direction that will lead to its termination: they also say that anger turned inside becomes depression.

So riddle me this wiseguy: Has depression shaped world history?

Something to ponder.