Here in NYC, I wake up mysteriously at 3:05 every morning. I do not believe this to be a coincidence. But I'm at a loss to explain time's staging of such a summons. My initial instinct was to get out a take a walk upon waking. But my legs are now too tired from walking all over Manhattan. So I've decided not to venture out thusly anymore.
I think the subways provide a magnificent sampling of humanity. So much so that I truly suspect that all the flashing lights between stops are government-sponsored alien sensor probes mapping the minds of the subway unsuspecting in order to type humanity to the bone. Thus, today when I rode the subway, I really took the effort to brainstorm outlandish fantasies in order to skew this voyeuristic alien inquest. However, now upon reflecting, since I don't know what anybody else was thinking/feeling/imagining/plotting, my ploy could have just as easily cast me dead center into the mean/median/mode of the status quo.
The cheese from the West Side Market is some of the best and lest expensive I've ever had in my life. How's that for a lasting impression? haha.
When I leave - soon - I will miss the city tempo, the inordinate number of beautiful girls navigating the city streets, and all the yellow cars. (Somebody told me that they, the yellow cars, are all cabs - but I'm not so gullible as to believe that any city could have that many cabs.)
I will leave in peace.
Last time I was in New York was solely for the purpose of seeing David Bowie on Broadway in Elephant Man.
What a magic mega-vortex of involving humanity this city then seemed: simply breathe. and re-become.
New York City is underwhelming this time around. haha.
I'm staying less than a mile from Xanga, Hdqtrs. (I'm up to no good - but that's another story. 
)
There was a time, once upon a time, that a trip to X-HQ for me would have been like a Muslim's sacred trip to Mecca.
But nothing here now seems sacred.
I think all the sacredness has been secretly niched-away from my predatorial apprehension.
Last night, at 3 am in the morning, I found myself on a walk-about down nearly deserted streets and alleys in Manhattan. I collected a cup of coffee. And nothing else.
Politics is so confusing that I suppose you have to have brilliant minds like those of John McCain or Sarah Palin to keep things straight, right? I mean, McCain's "Joe the Plumber" and Palin's "Joe Six-Pack" are the same guy, right? I mean, certainly this is a joe plumber who drinks McCain's wife's beer heiress joe beer - no doubt. But is that Coors or Bud joe suds? Damn, like I said, it takes brilliant joe-spankin' minds and lots of joe-doggone drinking with concommitant prodigious joe use of the joe plumbing facilities to keep this joe shit straight as joe piss!
I suppose I should still keep using this internet thing before the cybercriminals entirely control it. Sunday morning's are low-key anyway, so likely below the radar horizon.
I am resisting the notion that the world is going to hell. But may modify my opinion if a pandemic of Bird (dinosaur) Flu breaks co-temporal out with this world economic shakedown that I'm calling the Great Fearpression. ( I checked Google: there are no search returns for "the Great Fearpression" so it is either a brilliant characterization on my part...or a completely idiotic anonymous rendering by somebody else. But even if it is idiotic, that would be entirely consistent with every other characterization and explanation of this gigantic vanishment of world wealth. And so, so apropros.)
Now for the good news! No super-volcanoes or mega-tsunamis or killer asteroids are scheduled for the near or far future. However, I reserve the right, in the somehat future, to define, in minutes, what I consider "the near or far future."
I just had a beer for breakfast. Hey, Johnny, what are we having for dessert?
I have just discovered that the last two year's of my "today's" seemingly desperate need for sensuous seizure of otherness is precisely a nothingness. Cry havoc! and bring on (the paparazzi) ever-nowly (in each progressive moment of this zazen-more mounting). Thus life transcends key-limely, sublimely into tomorrow's (sun-rising) rousing re-realization of a spiritual, more-embracing acceptance of unavoidable self-actualization.
C.G.? Yesh! (Yo)Jung.
notforprophet (according to his anti-matter(ialistically), genetically-inst(a)illed, revoking-avatar vaccine *kises* . re-reincarnated incubus inoculations
- yet(ti?), thus does I, nfp, love(s), (luvs) (old-westernly, i can draw faster!) ( than you. ,fully, quixotely-coyotely tran-cyber-l (i, nfp) violating all secrecies, thus embraces yo(u). loves.
Yes, you. Wake up! 
And smell a heart (yours, mine) still throbbing.
I know. there are too many (..)'s above for the present-only-minded voyeurs. but, drift back, you lovers, to when you can exactly remember your first feelings. ...I thusly indict and command every instance of our quasi-nazi-bookfed-grammar to cease and desist!
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