Imagine close enough.

While outside, the smells conjure up memories, the rotting fleshy earth, the leave of whispering steam trails, caught and lost. Something new begins, a thought that lasts motionless. How I wouldn`t mind if I were with someone, again. I, in wondering, would instill this mess of emotions, now. Is it still incredible to fall for someone? Tonight, tonight would be, could be, a good time, now in this cold, small drizzle, here, there, outside? Imagine, close enough, our hands in our coat pockets, our shy rocking, back and forth, rubbing shoulders while we sit here. Loving this, "never time" all too early morning, not wanting daylight, yet. Her purple cheeks and puffy eyes have yesterdays make up, her cold blue lips, drawing tawt across her chattering play and smile. If I could get close enough to her frosted shiver, to warm against her face, to fall into her neck. To be close enough to smell her shoulder, her hair, to have found yesterdays touch of perfume. Small, slender fingers, half out of her big sleeves, covering her lips, hiding that she didn`t expect to be caught without her toothbrush. I never noticed that lamp post over the park bench, nor the fact that we sat under it most of the night. I know her jacket and her faded jeans. Could I remember any closer? Looking into her eyes longer than a quiet search, a kiss left lost in that hope, the time instead, enough. We would've drawn closer, but... we never did, we don`t exist, not her or I... remember? I asked "Imagine close enough". The park bench is 11 floors down from my apartment window and the only eyes twinkling last night, were the city lights and that bench, it never saw us. You know, you have to admit, I have an incredible view from here, such a pretty city, isn`t she? I need to get more sleep, its almost 6:00 am.

Sleep and type.

I can actually awaken gradually, while typing this reclined in my chair as the keyboard lays on my lap and my eyes close, open, close and a little open, now closed. At times like this, I lose the battle and awaken to find a long page filled with a single letter, 5000 letter k`s or m`s. Today, I am watching the sunrise and the first few morningers out there, braving the cold, bettering themselves. I could join them, take out my wheelchair and have my son push me, but nah, it might be easier if I just let him try to keep up with me and my scooter, nah. Well, here he is curled up at my feet like a loyal beast, a friend or like how Berlin used to do before he died on us some 4 years ago (Germanshepherd). I am not sure why, but Sal just wants to sleep in the livingroom with me on the floor, not on the couch, just on the floor and at my feet. I sleep in a recliner, automatic type that lifts me up or lays me down, I need it since I am bent like a hunchback. It just fits the sitting position I sleep in and have done for years now. The day is looking great and the venum is greying the fog, there is little room for light so I`ll just go back to sleep, I`ll melt into the chair while my eyes become assured were safe. Guilty, heavanly and quiet, my son breathes a trusting, comfortful, rhythmic song that leads me to sleep every time. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzz zz zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I am strong.

I am.

I am here and so is the dragon.

I can make him bigger and stronger, smaller and weaker, I can hide or ingest more venom. He will shut me down, my insides siezed, no longer do I seek the fog. I can hear you, what are you afraid of?

Whats morphine like?

I heard someone ask "Whats morphine like?" I thought about it, I thought about tears at that moment, how hard I fight to avoid them, but when the shields come down, there is an awakening. For myself, morphine is like you, I heard ask. Its like the way I used to be. It is the Dragon you think it is and the one I have led into my viens. I breath its fuel, it replaces my blood, my blood it depletes and I find him at his will. The dragon is strong and takes my world as it enters me. Morphine has made me, it has become my dream, my wants and my desires to look forward to each day. A reason to get out of bed so strong like a newly entered compositional DNA. Everything is the dragaon now, my smile, my greetings, my impression upon you. Is the Dragon nice? It could hurt no more than when it bit down to when it let go, morphine is without the Dragon shaking its head and having its teeth clean the flesh off my bones. I give in to the dragon, because it is far less painfull then not having to, for without it, is that very question, "Whats morphine like?"

And again and enough.

Its getting harder, the strategy to get me here, to this crisp, empty, and honest morphine moment. Nothing can be more forthcoming than a prayer, a moment between your grip, your gut or your cold quiet room that can take a deep void apart. Is it? As long as it gets you past reality, and that treatment? If the experiment(cheamo) seeks out the quality of your day, give it surrender. I want to stop the treatments... just one day at a time, please. I can't take this stuff anymore!

Happy Thanksgiving Lord

Thank You Father, for all that was given us, Oh Lord. Today we had a meal of great Joy, with love served to us by all the ladies in my building. The nurses and caregivers and staff, Yes I live in a handi-capped housing highrise. Anyway, the supper was good, so good that, of course, I ate too much. The turkey was plentiful, as was the ham and for the first time, I did eat sweet potato with golden toasted marshmallows on top, Oh! what strange things we do, that is so good and just everything else during dinner was good and mmmmm pumkin pie with mmmmm cream. I am not used to this much goodness in my system, so we slept, and slept and zzzzzzzz zzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzz zzzzzzzzzzzzz zzz zzzzzzzzz

Close call..

Not sure why or what it was, but we made it, alone and pulled through. I was real sick this time, real close it was, but big baby I am and Sal putting up with my "can`t leave home yet, this good place" atleast we were together. I can`t just leave and get help, what would I have done with Sal, who would have watched him while I was out of it? We made it though, at home and together, safe. I just maintained the hours and slept like usual and stayed here. I wish I could find someone to love us and take care of us, we could take care of her too. Thank you God for taking care of us. My son was such a big help bringing empty pails to me and cold cloths to fight the sweat. I could not have done it without him or without his love. Thanks son. When I am strong enough, I will get back to my way.

It`s 5:00 am can`t sleep.

I am up, I am up, I am up, two hours of sleep and it was not easy, even with all the morphine! I could ever want, I could have it(comfort is my right). I still can`t sleep, more than a couple of hours after waking, crying. I`ve gone to all the windows and looked at the city from very high above the twinkling, tiny lights and deserted street corners. Some lights out there, in others windows, tell me I am not alone. Someone, tell me. In the highrises across from me and in the distance, I can see you, in your window and may be your looking back at me, are you? I stand in my windows and watch sunrises, the first papers being delivered, our morning reads and the white bakers trucks with our bread. All the air is cold, cleared from above and left along the riverbanks frosted edge. The fogs creeping up out of the water, growing up it boasts, reaching the little houses along the green alleys. Please, Oh Lord, take in your arms everyone sent to you on September 11, forgive us if we fail, show our love if we have not found Jesus, Amen.

Question mark!

What does it mean to be a part of the human community? What does it mean "the human spirit?" Do we all belong to this community? Those that see, hear, know and acknowledge the existance of seperate views, do we all have answers to those questions? If only someone where here to discuss this with me, like my window, distracting, besides it speaks in parables and its moody. I know, kinda in a dark mood, being that its 4 a.m and were both sort of on a different pane right now. On a completly new topic, I will be going to the lake this afternoon, Half Moon Lake to just sit on the beach. I might, maybe, I will bring my watercolors and do some much missed meditating, thinking and fried chicken. I love to be "plien air", dipping my brush into the lake, imagine it with me.

As far as I could stare.

Caught myself stairing out the window, far too long these times here, again. I blessed the joining of the sky to the earth, its mix of oceans and light, vast is life, gentle and deep is my profit. Who is aware, that I had been dreaming? Who could not see my hands pressing through the glass, harvesting? Awaken me. It has been raining all week and the clouds parallel my mood so in through the fog this share of nature is on its way to me or on its way from me. I wonder, every morning we are safe and warm, our coffee cups, our bowls waiting empty on the table and waiting.

The least recieves a miracle.

The other day, Sal and I headed to Safeway for our groceries and we could hear this awful chattering from a squirrel. Curiuosly, every time it shrieked, it would lift its front paws off the elbow of the tree limb it was squared off on. The smallest warrior didn`t seem to notice or even care that we were beneath it. In with this strange fight, its stance lifted its screamming higher and higher. We could not see if it was warning a mate or was this his cry of terror? Was a cat or maybe a bird or snake, serving up its young? We just couldn`t see his concern, what had made me invision this horror? I closed my eyes and prayed, Oh Lord, I have walked into of this day one of your least, and, I would ask you to give it strength and quiet his anxiety, Oh Lord, place a miracle as his prayers of mercy are pleaded before us. Oh Lord, on all that it cares so deeply for, as today the sun is shining, the birds are singing and the air is so warm, please leave a miracle before us. In faith, we walked and slowly, the squirrel stopped, calmed our hearts, so together we never heard another sound from the little warrior. I felt the presence of our Lord, smiled and felt a safe, our prayer was answered. I am telling the truth, I will never forget. Thank you Oh Lord, Amen.

First time this has blogged me.

Well had a long, uncomfortable weekend, seems I am a little closer to the ground and finding it hard to straighten out. I have a condition called Anklyosing Spondylitis(inflammation of the spinal column which leads to total fusion of the spine in a hunched over position). I have recently been diagnosed with sculiosis as well, and have a new curve to deal with. I can`t walk and see forward at the same time any more, but I do walk with the special canes. I`ve slept for the first 2 yrs in my wheelchair because it reclines, and since I can never lay flat again. I now sleep in a specially modified recliner that lays me down from standing into a sitting position to sleep reclined. Now, everything in my apartment is one level with no stairs, hardwood floors and huge, low, wall to wall windows. I can see out from my chair and its on the top of this highrise, which I love. I really need things to enjoy, to love, since there is not much out there for my son and I to win over. The whole place is automated and modified, in ways we can easily reach and grab. My Son is severely retarded, that he is 20 yrs old and has the reasoning of a 5 yrs old. He has a hard time walking and is underdeveloped physicaly, besides all this, we rely on each other. As he does what I physicaly can not, and I am his reasoning, to a certain extent. He suffers from mild autism with varied fascilations and unique, gift like abilities, all are a joy and a blessing . His vision is incredible and his hand strength is that of 2 men. The learning is still everyday, and that is what continues to be an honour. The gift of being a father. We both are on permanent disability and live in a special, love of forgiving each other for breaking promises. I have to sleep now, since I started writing this entry, I have fallen asleep at my desk a dozen times.

Passages of Acts.

I spent most of the weekend inside, I feel alone and quiet. I am alive and counting, one day at a time. I like sleeping in, not exactly sleeping in, since I don`t sleep well and I am always up in the wee hours of the morning. I am up around 4:00 am and stay up for a few hours playing around on the computer or looking out our windows. I will read passages of Acts until Sal finds me asleep and curls up at my feet, he is now holding my Bible and socks, cradled them under his chin, drawn his knees close under them. I see his stuffed gorilla looking away, dejected it seems, but together we have found the good sleep. The same good sleep.

I think we could go far.

I am thinking of doing something with Sal, like go somewhere camping . I don`t know if I can, if we can do this or should just stay home. Can we carry ourselves, all the camping gear and the scooter? Maybe we could go somewhere and just rent a hotel room, we could still hike, I think we could. We could go far into a forest or the beach and bring a tent and make a fire on the beach or by a river or a lakes edge and fry bacon in the morning, couldn`t we? Could I breach the fires and make warmth? Maybe I am just stupid for thinking it and how will a father in a wheelchair/scooter make any great moment, and try and go with his disabled son on such a journey? I guess its just as stupid as my thinking that I can go looking for a memory, a memory for Sal, who likes being read to, who likes to play ball barefoot in the grass. His face would look at me with a sudden smile, I could, cause Sal to smile, wide in wonder or squint when I have been silly. Love and trust. That what you do with them, you will have done for the father. You think we should go on a trip?

alone and in a lingering sweat,

Again, I am up, alone and in a lingering sweat, thick with pity and cold. Anger clenched in my beard and at the back of my neck. 02:39 a.m. and I have only been asleep for 30 minutes, not a single twitch, just deep sinking deep. Looking out my window at the biggest room on earth and its sweet dark silence. Its lost its hustle, lost its color, but its has gained a calm and moved its resolve before me. I belong, to-night is a repeat of last night. Our Father Who...

I wish our dreams would,

I wish. I wish our dreams would. I wish our dreams could come true, yours, then theirs and then mine. We wouldn`t be alone, us who are alone and we wouldn`t be hungry, us who are hungry. We are not. We are not afraid. We are not afraid, because we are with God. We want and we are sometimes afraid we won`t want. We want...

Slowly, I hope I will be here everyday, I love.

Slowly, I hope, will I be here everyday? I have such thoughts. Its been a number of years and I am still unpacking reasons to belong. Its been raining hard and the wind is a songs thoughts here, my rooms eye looking out over the storms mightiest, lightning strike thrown rumble, to lifes groans. It looks into my face, waits for my yell and screams back at me, together we grumble, pain.

I fell asleep again.

Hmmmmm, I fell asleep, again, and at the keyboard. I am tired of backstroking a trail of letters only 600 lines deep. I have rested my hands in holding down the key of f, like so... ffffffffff, and of course, there have been times when I have held down letter after letter and filled many pages, some paragraphs made sense. What do I do when this happens? Like now, I got up from a well molded office chair and made a pot of coffee. This is the part I don`t understand, I fall back into sleep while holding my coffee and you guessed, I am now wearing it, in my lap, on my feet and I never let go of the cup. Just like I never let go of the keyboard, ever, when I fall asleep at/on it. I like that line, I fall back into sleep, exhausted, actually fallen back into sleep. Oh yes, for the first two or three times, I`d jump up! and try to land on my feet as I was falling off instead of falling back into, falling off to sleep, off what? Conscienseness, never seems to let go its grip on an awakening grasp, the sudden loss of that grasp, which should have anchored me is now an attempt to re-establish grace, in the moment. I`m not making sense but, the lost coffee was the way.

My mp3 player

I just purchased an mp3 player, a WaveX 128mgs and I like it of course with the radio and voice record, its a nice toy, my mom got it for my birthday in April. Its 4:30 am and I`m staring at the big view of the big city and listening to the birds waking up. There are times I will sit here and in the mornings betrayal of darkness, close my eyes and let the songs of the cold air keep me, asleep. Right now, there are sirens and screaming tires adding to that huge rooms colors. Seeing the, "out there" I call the biggest room in the world, with the highest ceilings and of course the most corners. The room of which most of it, I have never entered into, that is I am not sure if I should excuse the mess but, I am not cleaning anyone of them. Just an hour ago, I had my morphine so I won`t miss it because I was doing something good like sleeping, rocking. I am so tired right now, a feeling I like and if I only could I would wish to dream.