December 24, 2000

December is a weird month because people are ten times more likely to be vulnerable & genuine.
Something about the strain of the holidays,
The introspective quality to the ending of one year
And the beginning of the next...
People open up, sometimes because their inner pressure is just too intense
To keep it all in.

December makes me sad but hopeful.
I'm glad to feel so close to so many terrific people.

Last weekend, a gaggle of Good People collected for a night of unbeatably soulful
Food, company, music & conversation.
Ellyn Maybe & The Negro Problem (with Aaron on drums!) Lit the place up.
I like existing in those dynamics (however brief they may be)
Where there is an almost sickening aura of
Compassion, Respect & Desire to Understand.
The people can't stop grinning like damn fools and
Nodding their heads along attentively.
It's like a big bubble of harmony.
I can dig that.

So, I'm beyond broke from buying presents,
Although I didn't get enough of them, (again)
I haven't even decided which holiday to celebrate this year.

One of my Dads is in the hospital having his appendix out
And the other one's stressing out over finals.

I'm trying for the first time to actually get my Driver's License,
Despite an incredible fear of the responsibility & implied adulthood.
It's funny that I was itching to vote, but somehow
The onus of manipulating a vehicle about town
Verily grounds me and leaves me anxious as hell.
I guess it's apropos to my character:
Eager to mouth off but reluctant to accept responsibility.
But I could be wrong.

The weather in L.A.'s been sunny & luscious as all get out.
I wanna go running through the park near work,
Barefoot & Hollering.
In some parts of the world, it's snowing.

Whatever you're up to,
I hope you're warm & with Good People,
Fostering substance & compassion.
I'll be working on fulfilling all of that here.

Oh, you didn't hear it from me,
But it makes some spirits bright to
Deface every dollar you see with Anti-Bush Propaganda.

Make It A Good One!!!

This site is always under construction.
E-mail Me:
Silence Bellows@yahoo.com
Come back and collect your lost marbles...



As Old As Their Tongue.
(and a little bit older than their teeth)




Happiness Is A Warm Gun.