Sometimes I fear this american lack of compassion and consideration for others could end my sanity and allegiance to love. I see a sweeping lack of respect coming from every direction, most days. Perhaps it is like entropy, inevitable, frustrating, yet manageable day to day. Like the dust on the ground and in the sky we are one, and ought to act accordingly. I have to sweep everyday, as my mind collects an ever increasing sum of dust.
My ultimate dream is that everyone in the world simultaneously realizes that 99% of what we do as a society is complete and utter bullshit and upon that realization we reorganize with nature, harmony, temperance, and fun in mind. We’re all incredible and given the correct circumstances can provide much more sustenance to the world at large—and to ourselves (!!!)—as truly free beings than slaves to a made up economy doing shit we don’t care about for a pathetic sum of digital paper.
Climbing rocks and losing money.
I Can’t thank the best partners, John Bell and Jake Smith, enough for this summer of granite. Climbing with Jake at Woodson (our personal sandbagged training center, just how we like it) and with John on long missions in the Sierra has been the best silver lining of these end times. Thanks boys.
I finally sent Jaws, a technical 5.11a finger crack, at Woodson. I feel justified in a sense, perhaps the time spent fiddling around on rocks instead of zombie mode in front of my computer might go somewhere. I did not rope up once while working on this one, hoping to make Brad and Dean proud (they wouldn’t give two shits).
I met a girl from Venus, her insides were lined in gold. She did what she did, said “how was it kid?” She was politely told “pretty good, not bad, I can’t complain.”
– John Prine
Steeped in hard luck and doomed to roam.
– Jakob Dylan
I would like to live out the rest of my life on an unambiguous, not necessarily picturesque, beach. I would like to die of health complications I am not acutely aware of.
weezer lyric: I’m alive like you
Sometimes, usually when im alone in my car listening to music in the nebulous country, a poignant lyric or pretty melody will strike me. I’ll think about it all in an instant, like borges aleph with less scope (circulated on my own worldview). With wet eyes I’ll break into a real smile. I think of my aliments, the ones I don’t tell anyone about, i think of the nature, and the beauty. Often, I can’t help but cry. It’s all too beautiful. How else could it be... Acoustic Dead: Harpur College, 19708/6/20
tattoos to get:
Old black hen, realistic, fairly large 8/6/20
Bat out of hell (skull)
Floating large boulder
I’m in love with the girl in my mind.
heart of gold band staff shirt