bring the last note of the last song with you when you come... for music is a string of audio beads, a stream of sensory consciousness that can, given the chance, have a life all it's own... breath into the experience, feel the vibrations of the instruments as they are meant to be played, by musicians with loving hands, mouths, feet, and ears... embrace the whole as the sounds mix and merge, cream and clash, wander and hit their mark... process with all of your being the magic of moments suspended in music and dare to share it with all you've got... you will never be the same... nothing will, and bring the last note of the last song when you come...

hello...


today's seminar involves the giving of your heart to someone else... what is involved in this transaction... how is it carried out... can it be accomplished before tea?... is tea even a requirement?... do you consider breath mints a remedy for social deficiencies?... would you like to stroke my monkey?...

you may recall that some several weeks ago I paused here in this written documentation called life in black and white to whine elsewhere about not having time to ramble on as I so love to do... it was in the RealTime� blog that much of this so-called whining occurred, mostly because I did not have time to get over to my mostly dead diary and journal, respectively, to put the whining where it belongs (which is why you see more whining here behind the candoor, if you've been around long enough, for the same reason)...

yes, well, be that as it may be (or not be, if you prefer), does the circumference of your you-know-what change noticeably when it pulses?... I could be referring to your iris reacting to a flashing light, you know, so please zip up your fly and end the experiment before it becomes messy... why ever would you even ponder approaching the halls of science with such a metaphoric query is beyond me, but then, you may not have in the end after all, so nevermind...

bits and pieces from the ozone, perhaps... the hypothetical ether that may or may not be made of up sub atomic particles that may or may not exist, but all the while most assuredly are what everything is made of... and don't even begin to bring up t-cell research until after you hear the religious asphyxiation of the person you are talking to... did I mean affiliation?... you may ponder all you like, but until you lick it down to it's center, you will never know what is at the core...

might be bubble gum...

or chocolate, if you prefer... but then, in the end, your preference may have no influence on what is... you can want all you want, but all the wanting in the world is not going to change what is unless what is can be changed... yeah, go serenity on them with your bad self... that is the ultimate translation of the term, after all... I mean fuck it... it can mean so many things but in the end, it is the answer to and culmination of the serenity prayer... they just lost the last two words in translation from the original pig latin...

speaking of pigs, the nurses just asked me to open a contained labeled 4 PIG EMBRYOS and low and behold, we were staring at a couple of pig embryo butts... poor little critters... but that's besides the point and we wouldn't want you to think I actually wrote this entry at work, now would we?... must I point at the title in every entry?...

you know what I completely forgot about this year?... the blogathon... as a two time active blogathoner and three time rooter-on-er, I should be shocked and awed at my careless memory... perhaps it was the bad taste the director of last year's blogathon left in my mouth (I really shouldn't try to lick directors I suppose) that relegated the memory to a forgetful shelf in my head... most likely it was the business of life combined with the growing compulsion to fill my life with offline activities, real human touches, and what, real time experiences that leaves less time for the online fun I've known and loved for many years...

you may wonder what all the hand raising was about as part one paused before becoming part two... well, it could very well be a reference to my pouring of heart out into the ether in the form of candora which was, from the beginning (which is really where you should start), an attempt to reawaken and reconnect with the pure true love at the bottom line of everything, but most especially me... and then again, it was more likely a wave in the vein of an old Waterboys song, if you follow the drift of that train... and in the end, the Beatles may have struck the most attenuating chord when they presented their meteoric fireworks to the world and, as the best fireworks will do, simply stopped and drifted off into the ether...

but once there was a way to get back home...

and a large part of that way in this world (being a physical world) was optimizing the condition of this physical body and I've surely come to a fork in the road where one side says oh well and another side says fuck it and I'm wondering if I really want to work my way through the wilds to find the road that no one follows (well, maybe a few people... Jack LaLanne, perhaps... most of you probably went "who?"... but anyway, I don't know anybody following that unbeaten path and I've tired of being alone enough to wander along the beaten paths of the beaten and downtrodden and normals for a while now which is probably the reason I take a blood pressure medication and have a belly and loaf around in front of the TV or computer more than I ever did (in those rare moments I am home, that is)...

but saying fuck it to the body is about the same as saying fuck it to life (thought there are those hedonists who'd argue the opposite I suppose and to them I say until you have experience the sensory awareness that comes when the body is in optimal fitness and all vertebrae and chakras are aligned, you don't know what pleasure really is) and if I was really ready to do that then I'd take the leap off the highest cliff around because that would be what the body deserves (and fun)... but then again, except for my lazy abs, there's a lot higher than the average energy in the rest of my body and even in the torso the cell wall energy remains high as the skin texture remains firm...

of course you were wondering about my cell wall integrity and skin texture, right?...

maybe what I am really saying is (I mean, besides fuck it if they can't take a joke or fuck it if I come up with any real reason for saying fuck it) fuck it if nobody cares or nobody is ever here (bless the few of you who still come by) because I'm loving my babbling and while I love communicating, the babbling is the best I can do (all I have time for) these days... if you appreciate that then miracles can come true, it can happen to you, and hopefully we shall remain young at heart forever and ever and ever and always...

it is a wonderful life, even alone...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)