Not much has changed in that is visible on my page. I have added some styling to make the pages display differently depending on size of the browser window. This will enable adaptive stylings and layouts on different devices according to size. I added some links to my favorite resource page. Learning by experience isContinue reading “Learning to Code – First steps – Part 2”
The dog barks. Is there any statement more truthful? Most things can be debated, but surely the dog barks. I can feel the weight of my hands pulling my wrists as they hover over the keyboard. The table height is not right you see. The chair I use is a dinner chair. It is woodenContinue reading “A Home Away From Home”
Today I lose my train of thought often. Undoubtedly because of marijuana consumption. Smoking marijuana has become a habit. More on that later. When it comes to writing I tend to ask myself, “What is the purpose?”. This question is difficult to answer, and it often causes writing to cease or not start at all. Come to think of it is the same, about, with music. I always ask myself, “why toil so hard for so little in music? It is worthless, it does nothing, what is the point of it? Why not be committed to something more beneficial.”. I often reason with myself that my contribution is not valuable because it is not tangible. Abstract thinking and annoying patterns can not help anyone. Or so I thought.
As it has been quite some time. This post is more of a test than anything. I have changed web hosting providers and have some tweaking left to do with this theme. Generally this is how I would like things to go, tally ho.
The only thing that is real is what I tell myself is real. Sometimes life can be convincing of what reality is and what reality is not. But I have seen enough examples and come to believe that what is thought to be reality can be altered and changed by thought itself. Reality evolves and our understanding of it may allow us to evolve it how we wish. This can be made example of easily by the way I choose to receive news
“Is this Switzerland?”
Defeat is the apex of learning. When we fail we discover entirely new things about ourselves and the world around us. In my opinion, this is the purpose of life; to experience it and learn from it. So then why is shame and fear centered around experiencing failure?
I was eating only beans, rice, and potatoes at the time and found I had lots of energy to burn.
Family is a weighted glue that seems to hold it all together. It also seems so very heavy and sticky and in other words… cumbersome. I guess that’s why the thought of leaving can be fantasized. Family reminds me of singing. It is very difficult and I do not seem to get much better at it but I can not ignore it. What I am meaning to say is that family is so beautiful because it is so difficult.
Abrasions incurred on my right elbow, shoulder, hip and ankle where minor yet bleeding with a sting. I shook off the damage to my ego.
This is the first 264 km of my trip. I am 2.64 percent closer to my goal of 10000 km and arriving in Thailand. Already the gifts seem abundant. I think back to the tale that helped me make the decision to take on this crazy trip “The Alchemist” and remember some advice the King of Salem gave the boy. “At first the journey will be easy. It is called beginners luck. The universe will do all it can to encourage you to follow your personal legend. After these initial successes things will become exceedingly difficult until they seem almost impossible.”. I wonder with this advice what lies ahead of me on this long road.
I get ready to depart La Malatre holding back tears as we eat our last breakfast together. The emotional wounds endured by this family are opened again. This is a repeated outcome at La Malantre. While we eat breakfast I witness the tears and sadness well up in Evelyn as almost ready to burst. A dam is filling inside her, as it fills in us all – waiting for the inevitable moment when I say goodbye, our dam breaks, and, we all cry.
I intend to cycle from France to Thailand. After that perhaps I will cross Canada. Those are the big goals.
It is, evidently, the heart and mind that seem to speak most loudly. It is perhaps in these two organs that all other decision processes flow through for consideration before being made aware to me, the observer.
Our brains are artificial intelligence in that they are designed to learn without our knowledge of their learning. Through experience our brains observe life and our interactions with it. Our brains take note, they recognize patterns, they store this information to influence our behavior. This is part of a safety mechanism although this ‘Artificial Intelligence’ serves many purposes.
“To be completely satisfied, to not need appreciation for art but to feel it so completely and natural like the vein of life itself. Allow it to wash over you like the first life understood by the newly born person.”
The scenery eases the stress of this ride as all around me in every direction are large mountains cutting across the horizon. The Sky is pure blue and the red clay earth is dotted and detailed with small green trees that I do not recognize and some that are told to me by Reda are fig trees rising high and looking like palms.
Blood sprays a vibrant red sheet painting the concrete. I stand in the unfinished beach house in Morocco which belongs to the father my close friend Reda. Reda braces the lamb as father and son perform the traditional sacrifice. The knife is sharp and supplies a clean cut cross the lambs main throat arteries. Reda had sent me a video of the living lamb earlier warning me that I was to see its sacrifice as my first introduction to his homeland. I had just happened to land on this eventful day.
I have not worked in six months. I have traveled across multiple parts of the USA and am planning to circumnavigate the entire globe in the coming six months.
It is easy to do nothing. The quick prospect of getting what we think we want to quickly fix our current perceived problem can reward the brain to want more of the same action. Want to lose weight? Buy a diet. Want to have more friends? Buy the latest fashion. Want to cook better? Buy and online course. It’s advertised as easy, isn’t it, and it will get you what you want.
Inside there are two attendants who are behind the counter which is completely closed off by double sided glass doors which look bulletproof. There is a woman shopping in the aisles, a man in a wheelchair buying lottery tickets, and the kid who asks the shop keepers for thirty eight cents who both shake their heads.
You stay at home and are afraid that any interaction might cause further pain so instead you cozy up with your pain and end up nurturing it. You might form a symbiotic relationship with it and without even noticing feed it so that it grows and stays ever present.
When dusk settles in at the Hostel in the Forest a bell is rang letting all forest residents know that dinner is about to be served. At the sound of the bell I eagerly find my way back to the kitchen tent. I meet today’s cook, the job of cook changes every day, and on this day the cook is a resident and not a hostel worker. She is wearing long colorful robes and a very practiced smile. Her white greying hair is pulled back behind her head and I feel invited by her large brown eyes. She has been working all day, she says, on this very important meal and has put all the love she could into all she could with great intention. I thank her for her efforts and say I am excited to eat something so lovingly prepared after spending the last few nights eating road food.
My room is reserved on the second floor and outside there are two parked state trooper vehicles. Immediately I feel like I am breaking the law. I have plans on poking holes in a pop can later to smoke what’s left of the grass I bought back in New Orleans. I carry my things upstairs, including my the bass guitar, hoping no one sees me.
After a weekend in Nashville’s nightlife I feel pretty taxed. The clouds never did let up and I use this an excuse as to why I do not explore the city much during the day. I do find a guitar shop. Mostly because I sort of lost interest in it. I visit the Johnny Cash museum but do not go inside due to price. It turns out that Monday is a holiday. Most of the shops are closed
Gordie and I take a few walks and runs during the late hours of the night. We do a few laps at a grocery store parking lot. I try to explain to her that she may need to calm down when meeting new people and that her excitement might cause new friends to not trust her. She doesn’t seem to notice I am talking to her. Her eyes dart about the parking lot with every subtle movement she picks up. I pick up her poop and we go back to Chris’ hotel. I will sleep here in Greenville South Carolina before heading back to Nashville Tennessee.
Guy’s monologue breaks momentarily as we both notice another hitchhiker with their thumb out. I ask Guy what his opinion on the situation is “Should I pick him up?”. Guy seems to evaluate for a brief moment before saying “Oh yea! This guy is old, pick him up!”. I slow down the car and get over the shoulder of the highway. Once i get to a full stop I am a bit further away than would have been ideal. In the rear viewer I see the name trying his best to run to catch up to us.
The rain at this point was like a mist. A heavy grey wall surrounded the city encroaching on its skyline and trapping my view of Nashville to my immediate area only. Chris and I catch a shuttle downtown and on the way I enjoy the way this grey fog mingles with the tall buildings. We are dropped a few blocks from our destination, broadway street, which is Nashville’s downtown tourist nightlife scene. Nashville itself appears as any normal city at first. Large buildings and quiet streets during the nigt. The moment we hit broadway everything changes.
If you continue on you will be reading about me as I retell my life in varying speeds and settings with ample attempts at mirth.
I saw a headline on a magazine while waiting in line at a grocery store. I think these magazines are very distracting. So bright and colorful. They are right in the place where people have a chance to talk to one another. Not that anyone talks to one another. Its very scary because we, or at least I, assume I will likely hear some tragic story if I talk to someone else. Usually though, the reasons I do not talk to people, are all made up in my head. Which is pretty interesting. Since all the reasons I talk to myself, are also made up in my head. I hope you get my joke, do you get it?