ALWAYS WATCH THE CLOCK

there is not much better than midnight drives in the country among abandoned sheds and coyotes and fields of wheat with windows down and the air swirling around, the cigarette smoke and heat dancing in a waltz, with one arm poking out wide from the side of the car like a toothpick in the twilight breezes, or on a walk on the first day of spring noticing all the life in the burgeoning scene, on a perfectly sunny day, when the lyrics god must have carved the clouds into animal shapes is tested and proved to be tried and true, and to lay on an afternoon grass, later, seeping its steamy air out into the immediate atmosphere, where a woman whose eyes are of such exquisite and perplexing beauty one just simply cannot stop looking into them, as she talks about the stars and outer-space, how the sun is made out of the same stuff as we are and you should think that and believe it and know it is true.

there is not much better than writing down a passing thought. a passing thought which is written when my body is in the exact right physical position, and the words are written without knowing how it was written, and each moment is given meaning which somehow, makes sense: hands in a comfortable hover over the keys, legs crossed, like the look a bald professor with a handlebar mustache smoking a pipe in the middle of the sixty-eighth iteration of an impassioned lecture on the meaning of tragedy, tragedy like the loss of his wife due to a seatbelt malfunction, or tragedy like the day he received a call from the school's principal notifying him that his son was harassed and beaten up at school for being gay, or tragedy like the time he lost his hamster and found it dead in the air vent when he was eight, and his parents didn't buy him a new one -- like that image of a wise old man speaking in a calm and docile manner would give, i sit and type and write and i am awakened.

nothing better than knowing that every moment that passes by instantaneously is full of meaning, splendid meaning ... and so much of it. that here we are, stuck in a body on a planet in this universe already enlightened with the knowledge that everything exists when it exists, and is what it is, and just is. but the crazy thing, the 'nothing better' part of it all, that we can write and make the meaning, make what we want of this crazy, hysterically genius life.