cousin doctor stacey says don't fear the yeast! it's natural! well it may be, but it's natural as cataclysm in me, and it literally knocked me off my feet. so naturally, i fear the yeast. it may be a natural part of nature in me, but it causes a riot and makes me my own natural enemy.

you know obomba takes in a half a million and hour speaking to his banking, silicon valley, reals estate constituency. image how much he will make in his lighted conning tower in the con-fiscal-ated people's park! this mofo is smart. he knows the emerald real estate. not on the market? the hell you say. power is the market, and he knows from the get-go how to make the people pay to pave the rich way.

fungus loves sweat like obomba loves money.
i met a lady sold obomba three houses, hates, hates, hates the motherfucker.  
said she'd say it to his face. 
in the alley when we part we part with the power to the people salute. 
the trump card in this community is obomba, unless the people rise up. fight the power. it's black and white: green space for the human race. 
we got to save ourselves from arrogance and greed. 
we got to fight the powers that be.

i guess failing and continuing is a kind of success.

hello new friends we likely will never see again. yet we met, and that's good enough. traveling, i said i have a blog and can i show your pictures and they ask where next and i say the blog travels, not me. this is what next for me. i travel this way each day.

precious desolation.

hit by a wave. i saw these kids sitting on the sea wall and i'm like mister i just sidle closer though mister can't see far so i actually sidle sometimes before he. i gave these kids from philly the address and we'll see them but first i have to air my sorrow and well, despair. my affliction is flaring again, just in my right foot, but the intimations are devastating already. last time i was completely overtaken and i lived in constant fear i would never be free again. and today the lady at walgreens said yeah it's a lifelong thing and i still can't believe it, though that's the way it feels in the pit of my soul, my gut. 

so many people have it so much worse. some are living under violent occupation, some are climate refugees, war refugees, fleeing the rich man's war on terror, in their own stolen and destroyed country, some are asylum seekers in prisons, separated from their families, tortured and sick in heart and body. i feel for all the beings suffering, i feel for them in my own suffering body, knowing how much worse it can be.

i see my friend from the other side of the bridge i think i'm not trying to catch up look at her move and mister walking slowly behind i catch her on the downramp how's that new knee she says i walk six miles and then ride the stationary bike and take a salt bath. i don't mention my affliction.

did you ever see a tree growing in a tree?

i love the blonde stargrass, and the rust red seed clusters, while mister steps in for a whiz, and i forget about democracy now.

i step off the sidewalk by the fenced enclosure for a whiz and breathe in. it smells really good here.

not if you care for me.

don't change a hair for me.

along with bullets and handcuffs, 
batons and body-armor, 
the tear gas made by safariland 
is a weapon of counterinsurgency, 
designed for use by police forces, 
prison guards, militaries, and border patrols, 
to literally beat down and choke 
our efforts at liberation.
  
decolonize this place

lulu waiting for the elevator. where the heck is that thing that takes me up home? is it stuck in another dimension?

i feel so terribly vulnerable. watched a doc about original people in what is called australia. they are in a bleak pass between worlds, poverty stricken, they lease land to the bauxite mine that pollutes the soil air and water. they bargain for a little more life with a slow genocide. anyway it seems remote, right, and comes down to it i feel vulnerable first because i'm invaded inside, and that escapes and translates to all the landgrabs and toxic industries and i feel vulnerable to all the degradation of lands and peoples everywhere. i go on and on in the same vein i know but it's all the same thing and nature gets extracted and poisoned and people got to move. ah fuggit, i'm too tired to write coherently, and i got to put this anxious soul to sleep.

precedents will come and go, make their wars, build their towers, and eventually, croak, 
but no matter, whether they're stupid or smart, they're just corporate tools, slaves of the fabulous wealth in a sorrowful state.

comet and taylor.

thanks for playin. if you ever want to do yoga with dogs you can find us here.

jackson and taylor: let's dance.

jackson and comet.

some kinda exstasy got a hold on me.

i imagine i can see a person's thoughts emanating. i think i know the person by gesture and environment and a certain tentative perspective lurking curiously in the near distance. i think the person senses me reflecting, recording, emanating in response to the person's emanating thoughts i cannot hear but see.

 i'm painfully, acutely, willfully, stubbornly naive

and i'm thinkin bout eternity.

lulu acts like we're tagging walls and she's the lookout for the popo when i ask her to stay for pictures.
when i rode to the pointers i saw this weirdo mc cur doing something to the stone bench the kids been peeling to reveal the painting the park district redacted with black paint i like and i feared she was doing something bad and i was surprised to see more painting showing so i think mc cur was actually continuing what the kids and i did so she may not be such a weirdo. unfortunately some of the black don't peel, and i imagine soon as the p.d. notices they'll black it out again. until then we'll keep on peeling.