Should I say it's good to be back on the blog ... or back in the blog again?

Probably references whether you consider the blog to be a block or a hood.  Back on the block.  Back in the hood.

I've been on many blocks and in many hoods of late.  Much too many not to lose my way.  Dark, dire, forsaken, hopeless blocks and hoods.  Lost stations halfway between the twilight of Life and the sunrise of Death.  Predators abounding, scavengers unrelenting, the fallen tossed out into cold alleys, the helpless huddling in shadows, a few bright souls passing by ever so seldom but never lingering long.  And I, watching, absorbing, learning, embracing all. 

I should have heeded the warnings: "Don't get too close."  "Don't get involved."  "You'll become what they are."

I didn't believe.  Or rather, I did believe, but also believed that I could 'unbecome' what they were - and what I might become - at the snap of my fingers. 

But I didn't realize that their fingers didn't snap.  And, if I became what they were, my fingers would no longer snap either.

To sink into a real otherworld and be sucked out of a contrived trance of non-visionary hyperthought.  Don't think, just sink.  Lower.  And lower.  Still lower.  Until the Sun rises in the land of the Dead.  And Shadows cast bodies upon the ground.

In Xanadu, did Kubla Khan?

Just don't linger too long at such a sight.  Or forget how to snap your fingers.  That or learn how to snap anew in that parallel yet darkly awful world that draws ever-closer seeking the everlasting likes of me ... and you.

My Wish

May I die in the passionate hot pursuit of all I truly believe in.

There are days when I forget to eat.  Days when I forget to run.  Days when I forget. Such forgetfulness is compelled by a fate awaiting.  The calm of forgetfulness before the storm of involvement.

Morning.  Get up and have a cup of coffee.  Watch Robin&Company on CNN News.  No, not watching the news.  Watching Robin.  And that's the Philosopher's Stone to understanding.  "The Internet", "websites", "blogs", etc. are all ridiculous fallacies.  If such fantasial constructs impact one's awareness in any pragmatic manner, then one is watching the news and not Robin.  Watch Robin.  Watch you.  Watch out - the Internet and its subdirectories are just Snake Oil Wagons from which Snake Oil is pimped.  But the Snake Oil Salesman - ah, that's a fine act to study.

Twenty six years ago today I earned an Expert Weapons Qualification Badge in the military.  Twenty six years ago today John Lennon was assassinated.  Twenty six years ago today my fascination with guns ceased.   Give me arrows and a bow.  Give me for a target an apple.  Smashing an apple at ______ (you fill in the yards) with a 4-blade razor broadhead is pure animal.

Imagine: there's no Internet.  No websites.  And no blogs too. 

Just Robins.  And arrows.  And animals.  Oh my.

The battle has ended.  That which had striven to destoy me must now seek other means.

I have become more mysterious, obscurely.

And, for now, the Tiger has my tongue.