Crazy Charlie

I have a friend I call Crazy Charlie ~ he chats and sometimes argues with people who aren’t around ~ I have a theory about Charlie ~ his ‘band path filters’ are worn out ~ allowing fuzzy signals of thought to slip through and travel the same pathways as signals coming from his senses ~ making it hard for him to distinguish between the sound of his ‘inner voices’ and the sound of other people’s voices ~ often the voices of people he doesn’t get along with ~ which leads me to another theory ~ thoughts from his subconscious mind ~ opinions he’s not aware of ~ get amp’d and slip through there as well ~ arriving on the same channel as a co-worker saying hello in the morning ~ which may be another reason he has trouble holding a job ~ in fact, there’s so much chatter going on up there ~ he’s always hearing voices ~ either out on the street ~ or down from the sky ~ saying things like: “what’s the matter with you ..your hair’s too long ..why do you act so strange ..and where do you do your shopping .. the salvation army” ~ pretty soon they become fighting words ~ which turn into shouting matches ~ followed by periods of observation ~ ordinarily I would say ~ the best way to avoid these confrontations is to recognize that the voices you hear are your own ~ then attempt some sort of reconciliation ~ however, in Charlie’s case, I say blow them off ~ treat the voices ~ both inside and out ~ as though they are the ranting of a raving lunatic you might hear on the street ~ shouting that the world is about to end ~ or that aliens have taken over the government ~ something like that ~ because, you see ~ they’re easier to ignore that way ~ you can always be sure there’s another lunatic out there with a band path filter that is in more urgent need of repair than your own.

Indian summer

I’m sitting on the beach watching the waves break and thinking ~ there’s a current out there ~ and I’m gonna ride it ~ I’ll start at the beginning ~ body boarding in Tahiti ~ then I’ll get on a plane and follow it north to Hawaii ~ catch it breaking on a beach in Maui ~ from there I’ll fly to the mainland ~ catch it breaking on a beach in Southern California ~ go see my sister ~ pick up my Alfa ~ speed up the coast ~ catch it again on a beach somewhere in Northern California ~ if I still detect a pulse ~ I’ll board a plane so I can watch that swell pound the coast off a point in the Gulf of Alaska ~ because maybe then I’ll feel ~ and not just think ~ but really feel ~ the rhythm of the sea ~ and the rest of the planet.

Border patrol

Life finds a way ~ that is my favorite line from the movie Jurassic Park ~ turns out border fences don't present much of an obstacle either ~ the wall going up in Naco Arizona is a tightly woven honeycomb structure ~ designed to prevent ‘footholds’ ~ but within days it became an ideal pegboard for screwdrivers ~ which allows ‘handholds’ ~ life found a way ~ I remember the words of a zen master: ‘what’s softest in the world drives what’s hardest’ ~ and when I think about the way water wears down boulders ~ or the way thoughts knock down obstacles ~ the more I'm convinced ~ life finds a way.

Evanescence

I’m getting re-acquainted with my surroundings ~ I see wall hangings I forgot I had ~ a roommate that I definitely do not have ~ I’m hearing stories about people I don’t recognize ~ there’s a road sign ahead I’ve never seen ~ and a marquis that reads Evanescence ~ w t f ~ E V A N E S C E N C E ..? ~ why don’t I remember that ~ I must have known ~ I check to see if I have tickets ~ no ~ shit ~ it’s gotta be sold out by now ~ I call Sam ~ my county bowl connection ~ and score ~ third row center ~ I guess it wasn’t sold out after all ~ I’m waiting for the show to begin ~ from my seat ~ I can read the writing on the cymbals ~ I look around and admire the renovations ~ I remember people saying how the acoustics are ten times better ~ I can’t wait ~ the lights dim ~ smoke appears ~ curtains rise ~ Amy Lee is playing piano and singing ~ and I’m enchanted ~ suddenly the beat of a bass drum hits me in the chest ~ followed by thrashing rhythms and sonic lead ~ rattling my spine and vibrating the empty spaces inside my head ~ I can feel myself scream but I don’t hear anything ~ neither does anyone else ~ Amy Lee’s voice soars above the rumble ~ haunting yet soothing ~ uplifting ~ bringing me to my feet ~ swaying with the crowd ~ this is nothing like the folk rock concerts I‘m used to ~ this is heavy metal goth ~ but I love it ~ to me ~ Evanescence sounds like a choir of angels ~ adding a layer of harmony above the disorder going on inside ~ and outside ~ my head.

Offshore flow

I put the top down ~ zip through town ~ and check out the shore ~ there’s a warm wind swooping down from the mountains ~ and blowing out to sea ~ it’s eighty degrees (Fahrenheit) and conditions are glassy ~ I love offshore flows ~ I walk across the sand ~ and plunge into the water ~ it’s painfully cold ~ but such an awakening ~ I swim until it gets warm ~ then float on my back ~ looking at the sky ~ through a bubble that my eyes create ~ it’s oval shaped ~ I see the sky clearly ~ but the cliffs and trees ~ stretching around the periphery ~ are hazy and indistinct ~ kind of spooky ~ and there’s almost no sound ~ just the water lapping against my ears ~ occasionally a bird streaks by ~ leaving trails in the sky ~ I try to stay with these images ~ but forces outside my bubble keep interfering ~ mostly thoughts about things that aren’t in the vicinity ~ there’s a porous boundary between what’s in front of me ~ and the images that my mind flashes ~ of things that haven‘t happened ~ it’s almost hallucinatory.