April 10, 1998
|A silence broken
"That scream, vigorously thrown, tore up her
dreams. Standing up on her feet, she quickly directed herself towards the beach. Her
glance scanned the luminous blue of the ocean, running then into the old man.
She remained on her feet, still, like an animal in
tension...she looked at him one more time -- his clothes were totally wet. She then spread
her arms wide open, and held him tight and her fingers grabbed his hands. The silence
seemed heavy to her, and she looked inside her for an excuse to break it.
"Is the water real?" she noticed then the
artificiality of that question. For a moment she felt embarrassed, but the sensation of
happiness that seemed to have impregnated everything, even the air, relaxed her once
"As far as the question goes," he said, in a
tender and sweet voice, "theres never been the slightest doubt."
April 9, 1998
|In This Forest
A dark forest. Viewed from above, it seems endless, reaching far beyond into the horizon,
away into the vast, never-ending blackness of the cloudless, moonless, starless, empty
In this forest there are swamps, with ancient trees, many of them thousands of feet high,
some over a million years old.
In this forest, the weather is always too hot or too cold; it is sometimes stuffy,
mostly suffocating, and never pleasant.
In this forest, unknown and unseen creatures are heard in the distance, running
through thick bushes, breaking small sticks and cracking dry leaves. Fast, like a flash,
you can hear them sneaking away, trying to hide, on your left side, on your right, right
behind you; no matter how fast you turn, you never catch it. Always out of sight, just in
the corner of your eyes, almost beyond the farthest reach of you peripheral vision, like a
And sometimes, when the cracking of thin, dry branches from a bush, or the restlessness of
the leaves underneath beasts' feet are heard close to you, with out warning, in the dark,
right behind you or right next to you, you freeze. Or when you awake from a dream to find
everything around you has hushed and the only sound to be heard is a slow, contained deep
breathing coming from the other side of the bush right by your feet.
You freeze. You just lay there, in the dark. You can't move; you never know what to do.
Fear becomes you. An unseen, intangible force keeps you pressed against the floor where
you lay. Images of ten-feet high demon like creatures invade your thoughts...with bloody
foot-long fangs, tiny red eyed slits, two-feet long spiky tongues pointing downward to
hell itself and moving from side to side; saliva hanging three feet long from their foul
stinking mouths; huge, hairy paws with dragon bloody claws pointing upward, as if to say
either "up yours" or "come here..."; and with evil, devilish,
mischievous, cheek to cheek smiles that seem to say something like "dam, this is
fun!" or "god, I love this!" all the while... they walk up to you, slowly,
and you know they want to eat you. Your breath begins to choke and your heart pounds at
your chest harder than ever, and all you hear is the breathing behind your neck. You can
feel its presence right behind you, sniffing your hair, ever so slowly closing in on you.
You can almost feel the heat of its breath, almost smell its stench. It wraps it arms
around you; it pulls you up three feet off the ground, and it wraps itself around you -
You freeze. You can't feel your body, only an uncontrollable trembling from the deepest
part of you being. You also feel the demon hugging you tighter, lifting you up even higher
than the trees. Flying, transporting you away from the forest, into an empty space, where
the temperature is warming, fresh and relaxing.
There you float, unable to do a thing, when it begins to lick your head. When
you then try to move or squirm, you realize how powerful a grip it has on you, and how it
tightens even more when the slightest movement is perceived. It continues to lick your
head, and you can feel it huge tongue, at least three times the size of a cow's,
slobbering all over your hair and your face. You seem to fly higher and much faster then.
Its grip tightens until it prevents you from breathing and you feel as if your ribs are
beginning to break. It begins to move in...it is eating you up.
In this forest thousands of deformed, malignant creatures are born.
In this forest, thousands of voyagers and adventurers loose their souls, wondering
aimlessly in the dark, with fear in their hearts, always hiding and running, never knowing
where to go nor who they are.
In this forest, millions of creatures roam through endless night. In this forest,
everyone is alone.
Viewed from above, the forest seems endless, reaching far beyond into the horizon, away
into the vast, never-ending blackness of the empty sky. But when you look closely, when
you remain still and attentive for long enough, you can almost see flickering lights
within the depths of the forest. Almost like faint, far away stars as seen on the sky of a
bright, smog infested city on a foggy night.
And if you concentrate real hard and pay a certain kind of special attention for a long
time, you begin to see more and more of these lights. They get brighter, and you can then
see them more clearly. As bright as the stars on the sky in the middle of the ocean on a
clear, moonless night, but not nearly as many.
Only a few here and there, within the vastness of the forest, and they don't shine on and
on in the same place, instead they flicker on and off, in different places. They appear on
one spot and then on another, remaining only momentarily on each place.
From within the forest, the lights are seldom seen; and so, from within the forest, not
many know about the existence of the Espers.
April 8, 1998
Twice Upon A Time
Once upon a time, there was a little girl dressed in
When I was a little boy of four, I used to stare at a
well a well providing water for the field workers that looked over my fathers
land. The well used to impress me a hollow cylinder made out of cement and rock
that was stuck into the ground; it seemed to have an endless bottom. I used to stare at
the well, with the shade of a nearby tree over it and an immense cotton field behind it.
I remember having to pull myself off the ground,
hanging on the edge of the well, to be able to look inside. A bottomless pit; I could hear
the water inside of it by throwing rocks into it, but I could see only darkness.
Thats where I met the little girl in red
Not long ago, there used to be a kingdom with a
little prince. There was peace in the kingdom ("At least," the prince was known
to say, " until I turned six.") A kingdom full of beautiful folk, with
music in their ears, a bounce in their step and a smile in their face. The prince loved
everything about his kingdom the majestic castle, with its immense towers and huge
walls, the colorful green volcano behind it, full of life with trees with all mixtures and
variations of yellows and greens and browns. Oh, it was beautiful.
On one occasion, when the prince was four and his
father, the king, had taken him on a journey to one of his castles in an other, far away
part his kingdom, the prince had a most interesting experience.
The first thing he noticed was that the gate into the
castle looked like a doorway from another world. There were flowers all around the edge of
the arch shaped entrance, and the walls of the castle seemed to have banished into a
darkness that could be seen on the other side of the gate. As he walked through the gate,
he immediately perceived the transition into another world.
The prince walked into a colder space. Familiar
surroundings beginning to fade away, the prince saw how the ground beneath him, with the
dirt and the rocks and the bushes, the walls of the castle to his right, and the sky above
were being replaced by an empty darkness. Even the wildlife, with its birds and deer and
bugs and dogs, seemed to have hushed and taken refuge behind the empty darkness, for they
were completely silent and out of sight, as if they didnt exist. The only noise to
be heard were the footsteps of his father, the king, and his servants, as they walked past
him and went on, murmuring something or another, towards the castle, into the darkness,
until they banished from sight, the prince completely forgotten.
All silent then, he seemed to be floating, not in the
air, but in timeless space. The castle, the people, the trees, the animals, the flowers,
the air, the sky, the clouds, the mountains, the ground, all sounds, all sight, all light,
the world, everything now banished. Suspended in empty darkness, a void, infinite space,
there he stood. Only his weightless, transparent, almost non-existing body, a gray, stone
well to his left, with a wooden bucket tied to a rope at its side, and a huge cotton field
behind it could be seen.
His body faced darkness; his head was turned
sideways, looking at the well to his left, when, out of the corner of his eyes, in front
of him, he saw a star. Turning his head (seemed to be in slow motion), he saw it
wasnt a star, but a break in the void, or like another doorway leading to a world of
light. For there, in from on him, a radiant light grew in the mists of the empty darkness,
from a point of light to a little princes in a red dress.
All silent, all still, he watched as the little
princes began to move towards the well. She glided and not walked. She wore a velvety red
dress that covered her from her knees up to her neck, and it seemed to dance, flowing
behind her as if blown by air. Her arms were crossed in front of her and the palms of her
hands touched her chest. She stood straight and faced forward. She had golden skin and
golden hair. She was serene and at peace. She approached the well.
The little princes in red climbed up onto the edge of
the well. To the prince, it was quite obvious what she intended to do. For the last time,
the little princes looked all around her, as if saying goodbye to this world, and then
suddenly and unexpectedly, she looked straight into the princes eyes.
Their eyes locked, direct contact was established
between the two beings, they smiled, and they both knew who they were. After a moment, she
turned her attention back to the well, and then jumped. But the door had closed and the
little princes landed on a wooden surface a wide piece of wood that was now
covering the mouth of the well.
The mood changed. Inexplicable fear consumed the
princes as she encountered the barrier, and when the prince saw it on her face, he felt it
too. Had it not been for his fathers hand, the kings hand, which instantly,
suddenly and apparently out of nowhere held his hand, he would have been consumed by the
fear too. Turning his face to the right, the prince could not "see" his father,
but he could feel the protecting grip of his hand and the soothing warmth of his presence,
almost like a shadow. Turning his attention back to the little princes, the prince
observed how the little princes was desperately trying to break the barrier, franticly
jumping up and down on top of the wooden board.
"Whats happening?" wondered the
princes father, the king.
"My sister is trying to get to the other side,
but some one has blocked the doorway," thought the prince.
"Why is she trying to leave?" pondered the
king, who was the princes father.
"Well, I suppose it is because shes not of
this world," realized the prince. "She travels across time and space, across
dimensions, from world to world, through many bodies and through many life times, always
remaining a visitor," he imagined.
"Oh, I see," philosophized the
princes father, who happened to be the king as well.
The terror in the little princes face had
turned into rage. Anger and hatred seemed to have possessed her, and the prince could
almost hear her screaming and cursing, storms in her eyes making rivers of tears flow down
her cheeks, all the while furiously jumping up and down on top of the wooden board.
Terrible thunder rippled through the void as the
wooden board cracked. It broke in half and the little princes was vacuumed into the well,
swallowed by the darkness within. Fear rushed at the prince once again as he experienced
an involuntary impulse to step back, to turn around and run away. But his father, who from
now on should be referred to as the king, simply thought, "There is a clear, luminous
light at the end of that tunnel waiting to merge with her."
And then the prince heard his own words as he said,
"My sister fell into that well."
Then back into the world of suns and moons; of skies
and clouds; of wind, trees and leaves; of people, animals and insects; of oceans, rivers
and lakes; and of mountains, volcanoes, stone, rock, sand and dirt, the little prince
went. Once fully recovered, he turned his attention towards the tree that was near the
well, and committed himself, for the next two or three hours, to eating green mangos in
front of the well, next to the tree, under the shade.
As the years went by, the little girl in red became
like an ancient dream, almost completely forgotten. It was thanks to my brother that I
remembered. About eighteen years after the incident, he told me about a time when I used
to tell people that I had seen my little sister jump into the well. The little girl who
jumped into the well was in fact my fathers little sister who lived when my
father was thirteen years old almost twenty years before I was born.
April 8, 1998
|Yo, the Motha Comin Back
About a half a millennia ago (not a long time for the age
of the earth) this world was not capable of destroying itself as a consequence of its own
efforts. But now, its sons and daughters can get into a fight and hurt the mother with
their big guns. Just the other day I read in the newspaper that the Russians had come up
with a new artificially made virus that the US didnt have a cure for (Chemical
Warfare). It doesnt matter who fights against who; its just that s--- like
this is happening. Not too long ago, there was a big fight between the US and the Iraqis,
where the US showed the rest of the world its new muscles, in the form of war
technologies. It feels like something radical needs to happen, like a kind of birth, or a
re-awakening of conscience, or a kinda shape-shift, or something, to avoid total
Fortunately, little by little this change seems to be occurring as the
heartless scientific beliefs are beginning to change into a kind of spiritual significance
in the middle of these giant circuit metropolises. An example of this effect is the Rave
sub-culture, where young groups of people dance to the sounds of techno-rave music as a
means of invoking something higher. The spiritual side of this great machine seems to be
coming back to bring back the spirit of what it means to be alive, here in this planet, at
this time of its history. But for now, its still at its outset, and being kept alive
in little skirmishes here and there. Its like in the Star Wars movie where the
rebels are very few, while the Empire has power over the whole galaxy.
The fact that this planet has grown to a point where it has to change radically
if it wants to keep going is a sign of evolution. The more and more we get closer to the
moment when this transformation occurs, the more this great machine will have negative
manifestations and negative reactions, until it finally dies, giving birth to a
transformed, totally different being. Our current generations are lucky to be here, in
this time, alive to witness this magical event.
For now, Im gonna go back to resume my duties at my computer station,
while I listen to Praxis! Cu later, and may the Force be with you, always....
April 7, 1998
|That one moment
It was only a moment by the clock, and yet it seemed to
hold in it vast amounts of time and matter, as the highway climbed up the hill ahead of me
into the rising sun. The rising sun was a white hot burst, flowing into yellow and then
bleeding bright blue into the receding purple of pre-dawn. I had not seen, really seen, a
sunrise of such intensity for a long time. Perhaps never before.
The world stopped. The dark blue vale and misty grayish green of the old
governors ranch that lay between the highway and the Rio de San Juan became a fixture in
eternity. The highway led up to forever. My destiny sat there in the east at the top of
the hill, invisible to my eyes in the blinding white light, yet seen as it hit the middle
of my brow; seen from the core of my abdomen; seen as it washed over my head and down my
spine. I floated up into the washing, waving light and looked down at the frail body
sitting in the old station wagon at the turn to the motel on the highway. A myriad of weak
light from the road sign, pale yellow and brown crust of a harvest moon, was soon to be
turned out as the dawn reached into day. Past prayers and vague hopes reached through me
and shot out into a fearful future and a humbling promise of what was to come. Threads of
events flowed around me and filaments of light spread and receded, winding and weaving
together in a vision of an arduous journey and precipitous rise. Sounds vibrated melodious
and rhythmic in an exhortation to go forward, to be without trappings, and to build
faithfully. My being melted away and flowed into the vastness of light and shadow,
movement and silence. For that moment, I was no more, yet I was all. I saw the haunting
past and the harrowing future, and understood the course a life must take to have what is
asked for. The choice was made, no alternative offered henceforth.
As I returned to the confines of the body, slowly and statically I turned into
the motel. The rest of the day was detached, my movements unreal and mechanical.
I worked and ate and moved in silence. Fear and doubt grasped at my body at
each turn, and my mind kept repeating "Take care of what you ask for, and have no
pride in your receiving it".
Soon I would take that highway out of town, away from the place of childhood
and into a world of mystery and misery. Yet that which I received at that one moment has
never left me, and strikes at those moments of listlessness that pervade this life.
April 6, 1998
|Musings from a Wounded Sailor
The song of sunlight
whistles through the trees
A simple tune
that enters and leaves
Ears slowly awaken
to the heavenly sound
A purity that breaks
all my resistance down
A silence opening up
to a clear blue sky
As rhythmic rain drops
fill my empty eyes
spiral through my brain
this four-note refrain
Again I enter
this circular frame
"I am here again..."
April 5, 1998
(excerpt from the "Apocrypha of Native American Wisdom")
The apostle Simon went to the desert to seek a teaching.
Upon arriving at a school, someone took him to see the Master of the school, Jesus, who
was at that moment talking with Master Socrates. He was surprised first at learning that
they were together. He found them sitting under a tree. Jesus was sitting still, quiet,
big and imposing. Socrates was thin, small, and he was hanging down a rope from his
ankles, in the position of the hanged man.
The guide translated what they were saying, for their
language was incomprehensible to Simon:
"There is a big sun up in the sky. When you die, and if
your load is light, you can try flying up to the sun. The rays of the sun, however, are
merciless and powerful. They will burn you away in a burst of the most brilliant white
light youve ever seen. If you face the sun, then you should merge with it.
Otherwise, you will resist so much that you will begin to sink back into the darkness of
the world, burnt like the crow. Trapped between the inability to merge, and the terror of
sinking into darkness, you can try to fly like the eagle.
"The eagle turns his back to the sun. The sun then
casts his cleansing rays upon the eagle. The eagle keeps on flying, encompassing the earth
with his wings while melting away in the dullest white light he has ever seen."
Jesus asked the guide who the seeker was. He said he was
Simon. Jesus told the guide to take the guest away. Simon stood up to leave. Socrates then
came down from the tree, smiling mischievously, and said: "Let him stay here."
The guide said that Simon didnt know what to do, whom to obey. Socrates said:
"He should obey both." Then, he took Simon on the side and talked to him some
April 4, 1998
|The Cold Laws
What happens when you read? For example, what happened just now when you read
that first line of this little article? The answer is not easy, but here's a start: your
eyes picked up on certain shapes created by the screen of your computer, your brain
translated the shape into a particular code that was programmed into you a long time ago,
the code was further translated or interpreted into "meaning", which usually
means images or other words in your mind, although sometimes it can mean feelings and
Feel it. A small string of bits, of "yes and
no", of little points of light, just penetrated you and touched even more deeply than
you usually are aware of, they touched you in regions that have been forgotten by your
daily routine. Depending on your deep programming, your particular taboos, conditionings,
preferences, morals, etc. you will experience the strings of bits differently, some you
might reject altogether ("Aw! C'mon! That's just no true!") whole others will
send you into automatic agreement ("Yeah! That's right! Go on brother!") , some
might make you go into an uproar ("How can they say that! What kind of people are
these!") while others might leave you indifferent ("Yeah... whatever...").
Think of a sentence as a virus, a packet of condensed
energy-information wrapped in an intangible layer of little black shapes. You have all
kinds of virus protection software floating around in your system, it cuts off all kinds
of attacks, it moves your lips in defense, it may even raise your fists, it definitely
makes your heart beat faster, your adrenaline rush through your veins, your eyeballs grow
wider. Your parents, your early schooling, your little childhood friends, they all gave
you these protections, these deep structures that are ultimately viruses themselves. They
dived into your core and made a home there, specializing in rejecting all new comers.
(This is why the supposed "freedom of speech" that exists in this country is
just a superficial gesture, a quick move of the hands to protect the deep censors
which now infect the whole population.)
What you have to remember is that you didn't pick
these deep viral structures which now inhabit your innermost realms, you were never given
a choice before you lost it, before you were condemned to taking in certain patterns and
rejecting others, before you were told who is "them" and who is "us".
And now that you walk around infected, is there any escape? Is there any way out of the
self referential system of protection with which you've been burdened?
There is, but only by taking the computer to the
shop... and opening up the entrails of your system to an unknown hacker, a mysterious
enigma that will claim to know the way out, to know the secrets of disarming the defenses,
of short circuiting the worn pathways of your old neural fortress. And the process
won't be easy, clear or short. Is it worth it? Worth the risk, the pain, the confusion?
Ask yourself: what would my surroundings be like if I
disarmed the old software? What would I see? What would I hear? What would I find?
You may never know...
April 3, 1998
Hollow, deep cold, humid,
Sounds come and go,
They get lost in the echo of the void,
Cold sweats, loneliness, fear...
Look at me, here again, exactly where you left me.
Look at my hands, full of blood; see the knife marking my destruction. Look how it cuts
vein after vein. Look at my chest, it is open. The heart is spilling its liquid and
nothing can be done now...it is too late.
Look at me run, looking to ease the pain, back and forth. From the bedroom to the studio,
from the studio to the patio. I'm outside. It is cold.
The wind furiously shakes the trees, hurting my wounds as it passes by. Look at me here
desperately asking for help. Up in the sky, dark clouds begin to anger. I see their faces.
They're monsters preparing the storm. I see a body...I think it is mine. It slides like a
corpse between other clouds until it crumbles.
"Help me, please...help me". I want to give you a face...a name.
I look within my memory; I find it...but it isn't real any more. You have no name.
"Help me...you put me here, inside this, and look at how I destroy it. I destroy it
for being itself destructive. Help me..."
The tree is restless. "Mother...where am I? Help me Mother, don't leave me." A
dark storm, a small brightness opens up. There is peace and the clouds rest easy there.
"How far it is!" My knees get smeared in mud as they jump to the floor...why,
why? A black cat jumps the wall. "Mother! Don't leave me...protect me in you womb,
give me your warmth."
In the bedroom. I pass by the mirror; I don't want to look at myself.
I go up the stairs. "What is this house? How did I get here?"
I go into the bathroom. I confront my mask. I know myself and at the same time I don't. I
try to make myself feel better: "I'm only dreaming."
Watch me convince myself this time like many others that I'm crazy, that I'm a destructive
monster, disguised as a woman. "Woman...who, me? Maybe because of long hair and grown
breasts, but my face has no sex, nor age."
The blood keeps on running. Pain, fear, loneliness, coldness, lots of coldness.
"Why here and not another? Why do I have to be just me? Is it that this has no end?
Who wrote this story? Whom did it serve, for whom did it work, what side am I on? Is this
part of a game? "LET ME OUT...IT HAS BEEN ENOUGH ALREADY!"
April 2, 1998
|AwakeningI awaken seconds
before the shrill buzzing of the alarm clock begins, feeling slightly disoriented. Yet I
know I have awakened this way many times before. I look around hoping to a get a sense of
what I am to do next. On the left side of the bed I had been sleeping on there is a
varnished natural wood table. On it stands a vase with dry flowers, two white candles, a
picture stand, incense holder, a bell and a red bound American Book of the Dead.
On the right side of the bed on a white textured stucco wall
there are two soul portraits. I look at the portraits. I become aware of the complete and
utter silence of the space. Darkness begins to fold around me. I open my eyes and attempt
to get up I find I dont have the strength. I look down to find that my once white
gown is soaked in blood. I dont feel pain or fear, just a cold sensation that seeps
into my core. I begin to shake violently. My teeth chattering uncontrollably. Out of the
darkness I see a warm inviting light. As my eyes begin to focus I see the shadowed faces
of my companions. We are all sitting in circle. I feel the warmth of a candle that is in
the middle of our circle. We all close our eyes. As we do so a voice that seems not to
come from any one of us, but from all of us at once says the words, "I am now
I awaken seconds before the shrill buzzing
of the alarm clock begins.
April 1, 1998
|A moment in this life
I feel trapped, nothing comes to my head,
a calling from outside touches a spot in my being,
by reflex, my solid rock cracks, and can see
the chains of laziness that wont let me take flight.
My head begins to think and realizes it is confused
"what? what is happening? I thought that was not the case..."
Resistance and a feeling of freedom create tension, to a point of imbalance,
Music fools my bag of bones into hypnosis.
The waves of the space engulf my senses
and the gates of reality are dissolved
as the sounds lift my insides to a dance,
shapes shift, forms change, where am I?
It is an uneasy feeling, and yet seductive,
without knowing the beginning nor the end,
just that Im here, in a sea of colors, sharp edges,
landscapes and presence.
It has an origin, and a final moment,
what is in between is immense and yet tiny,
moving like a butterfly in slow motion,
a self generating orchestrated combination of sounds and events.
It feels like the final question, the only question...
eluding me as a free subatomic particle,
but always here, traveling across the universe,
and fueling inspiration to this animal body.
March 31, 1998
|Between Two Worlds
It must be about four-thirty in the morning; the
sun has not come out yet, and the streets seem desolate, peaceful and quite. Little
Cambodian and his mom are still sleeping he sleeps on a bed right next to mine, she
sleeps with me. The room is dark, quite, and pleasantly cool. It is that part of a day
when the world itself is fresh and new. My body, mind and spirit are rested.
Im laying on a comfortable bed, underneath warm
covers, and it feels so good to have her next to me her soft skin, the warmth of
her body, her arm unconsciously yet lovingly placed over my chest, and the soothing
whisper of her breath singing in my ear. I could lay here forever.
In this seemingly eternal space, I begin to notice that I
cant remember what I had done the day before. In fact, to my rapidly increasing
amazement, I begin to notice that I cant recall there being any other day besides
this one. In this moment, I have only a vague memory of having a daily job, a daily
routine, complete with meals, TV time, showers, car drives, family members, etc., but I
seem to be unable to get a good grasp on what exactly my daily routine is. Then I wander,
do I really have a daily routine, complete with family members, immerged in endless,
ordinary and totally useless activities, or did I just dream about it?
A rush of excitement and happiness consumes me as I quickly
come to the conclusion that my enslavement to an organic existence has been but a
nightmare after all, and that I have always only existed in this room, at this time, in
this very moment in this eternal heaven.
What a relief, to realize that it has all been but a
nightmare (and what a nightmare!), that I have always only existed in this magnificent
paradise an eternity with a woman to love and a child to play with. This room
itself is all that I am this chamber, nothing more.
I smile as I tell myself that nothing exists outside this
room of mine. On the other side of that door there is no streets, no cars, no buildings,
no grass, no trees, no birds, no people, no moon, no sun, no stars, no sky. If there ever
were any of those things, they were all part of the dream pictures created by my
own mind to add some sort of credibility to the nightmare.
I close my eyes to rest in peace. I take a deep breath as I
prepare to go into the Void once again
An extremely loud, screeching sound coming from outside
suddenly fills my room (tires of a fast moving car scraping against the road as it quickly
and abruptly comes to a stop)! Two doors open up just before they are slammed shut again
(I am forced to open my eyes). Rushing footsteps going up the stairs and towards my room
(now what?). The door to my chamber is violently kicked open as I rush out from under my
covers and onto my feet. Two silhouetted figures momentarily pause and stand at the
doorway to my chamber before coming inside. I have seen them before
it is my father
"Oh, hell!" I think to myself, "What kind of
eternal heaven is this, anyway?"
Little Cambodian and mom seem to mysteriously not be there
at all, for they dont make a sound or the slightest movement they just sleep
away, as if nothing is happening.
Me, Im alarmed, for I can now see the scared faces on
my brother and father as they stand in front of me. They seem to be trying to tell me
something important something urgent but I can hardly hear anything coming
out of their mouths (just like distant murmurs). All I see is the urgency in their faces
and the terror in their hearts.
And then it happened! My brother is paranoid (something that
never happens), my lover and her child havent moved a hair (even after all this
racket) and my father is wearing his bathrobe (he would never leave his house in it).
Something went click inside of me ("Im dreaming!").
Im now smiling as I try to make my way outside the
room. My brother and father both try to stop me, still terrified and murmuring their
warnings (I can now hear them saying, "No, dont go out there. Please,
With a bit of effort, I am able to exit the chamber (my
heaven), dragging my brother and father along with me. I try to explain to them that
Im only having a dream and that all I want to do is prove it to them. But they just
wont stop their whining carrying on like soap opera actors with their urgent
warnings (what is it that theyre trying to warn me about? I dont know; I
cant clearly hear what they say).
In my dreams, I can fly or, at the very least, float
I stand up on top of the railing out on the balcony of the
apartment building (I stay on the second floor). Im balancing my self on the thin
railing of the balcony, looking down at my feet and, inevitably, at the hard, concrete
floor of the parking lot beneath me. Im going to jump now. I know this is a dream.
Im sure of it.
I face the apartment building; I see the opened door to my
chamber (the darkness within) and my brother and father standing in front of
it, on the balcony, shaking their heads in disapproval of my actions. I see the parking
lot beneath me, the cars that park there, and the road on the side of the building.
Im levitating, just floating in the air, smiling.
The first rays of the sun are coming out from the far
horizon behind the apartment building. They seem to be rushing at me in slow motion.
Rolling thunders roar, shattering the blankets of silence and stillness at five in the
morning, and there is this rippling sensation to this whole experience, as if it were a
film being played by a bad projector, creating gaps of blackness (or just emptiness)
between one picture and the next. Or as if the rays of light were tearing apart the very
fabric of the phenomenal universe as they roared, bouncing their way in from the Void
itself. The light, however, is only illuminating the sky above me. The apartment is left
in the dark, as well as the street, the cars, and my brother and father. I now seem to be
facing two worlds. Pure, shining, white light above, and phenomena in darkness below.
The light eventually takes over everything as I float
between two worlds, and I find myself laying on a thin mattress, staring (eyes wide open)
at the white ceiling of my cell, having just awakened from one of the weirdest dreams I
have ever had.
March 30, 1998
|The Long Road Backwards
take a trip backwards in time. Its free and it won't last too long. Down the road of
history we travel, the echoes of generations in time with the rhythm of our footsteps. The
reflection lies up ahead and within that lies the merciless eye of time. The road is like
a helix, which we can see clearer the farther in we go. This path of DNA was written by an
unknown hand holding a blunt instrument, carving secret messages into our very cells.
Messages only a few travelers on this road have returned to tell.
At this point the questions begin to mount, Where have we come from?
What strange stories have preceded our incarnations on this little green planet? Who am I
and where did I get this funny looking monkey suit?
In an effort to reveal a small link in my own personal chain I traveled
back to the land of my grandparents, Croatia. For as many generations as anyone cares to
remember, my ancestors have lived in this area. I figured it was time to go back. With me
on this trip was my father. I have many relatives in America but in the last forty years
none of them had been back to Croatia.
Many things happened on this trip, but one event seems to ring truer for
me than all the others. I was holding a picture of my Dad in front of me. It was taken
when he was here 42 years ago. He is standing in front of the local church with his
brother, both are in their altar boy outfits. In the middle of them is the local priest.
As I let this photo seep into my awareness I began to feel how the
echoes of the past can vibrate into the present with astonishing clarity. In my Dads
twelve year old eyes I could see myself, but also his father, and his fathers
father, and back down the line until there is only the sound of a baby crying in the next
A silent tear began to form in my heart, not one of weeping but of joy.
For the first time I could see farther into the past than ever before. The whiplash from
this vision sent me spinning headlong into this time we call the 2Oth century. Around me
there is fire and the past is but a burning ember in my hands. The photograph is melting
from the heat and the ashes of memory are floating upwards towards some distant planet,
the place of forgotten memories.
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