(its not often I write in first person)

I stood outside along the deck railing writing on paper held fast in my Bear-of-a-Clipboard(I salvaged it from a businesss trash in 1980)

on the pages opposite side I can see theres an advertisement for a Valentines Day event at a health club 

my sentence pierces its prominent red heart like Cupids arrow

inside the house before coming out I lit a cigar

Ill admit I was tempted after blowing the match out to count the extinguished matches laying in the ashtray I tossed it in beside 

each match represents a cigar and typically a wrioting

I let the temptation subside

Im very good at throttling temptation 

it can express itself momentarily 

then I let it go

no temptation is my master

today is a silver grey dayit threatens rain  but it must forget this is California

rain is mythic

sometimes a rain falls but it dries up in the atmosphere before touching the ground

its like my temptations

at once realthen irreal  

a ghost

I see ghoststheyre real

I dont see them as often as my mate  my second me

I love her as I love myself

her qualities mirror mine

mine mirror hers

our differences are only in the completeness or incompleteness of them

so she sees ghosts better and more frequently than I

but she is haunted

I am too aware of myself to give them berth

with me they are shy  unprovocativethey hint  but their hints are too subtle and subtlety has always been lost on me since I was a boy

they are too ethereal to punish me but they can punish her

they make themselves known

but only in kind as I can hear an unseen hawk cry I know from what direction  I just cannot see it

unseeing isnt the same as unknowing

therefore the ghosts know me I know them were shadows to each other and we are faded in that light of knowing

my mate knows better

I listen intently to her stories her bright defining illustrations  yet as she proceeds they still remain hints to me 

we know there are reasons unknown to us why I cannot see better

it is worthless to agonise over our differences

it is like regrets about the past

it is past

there is only the present and how it passes a day at a time

I accept that

she is learning and when she learnsand she will  I will hand her the mantle and follow her

there is no shame in following someone who is more perfected

I call that love

1400,  Monday,  20  3. 17

1032,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  22  3. 17

1400 days remain or less

March 19 was never a memorable date when he was young

he passed it on the way to his kid brothers birthday when for 10 days they were the same age

perhaps that was a thing of the pasthis generation  maybe except in Third World countries today(maybe America then was a gussied up tidier Third World country)  so perhaps they were the last generation when women got knocked up and birthed again inside a year  it wasnt good for women to bear children year in and out  not hygienically for them
or mentally(yes boys  go beat your meat in another room awhile longer  you didnt suffer an episiotomy  you didnt suffer a Caesarian  your perineum wasnt ripped or cut  your body didnt shapeshift for a better part of a year to adapt to be inhabited by another body  and souland No! you didnt provide the matter of soul within your semen)

it didnt occurred to him that a woman wasnt more beautiful her body more transcendent a fantastic flower then while she was expecting  if put to a test hed confess his belief were idle words purely commonsensical   although he was pained to understand that some men didnt believe as he  even husbands   Dumb oxen he opined  they werent appreciative  he wasnt making believe  and for favoring pregnant women three times he was implored to satisfied them  professional women whose husbands found their bodies hideous and feared sex would damage the developing fetus 

they didnt have to ask twice

he would admit that their private corner offices aided his decision  where they could be discreet and their discretion was hushed(though they werent quiet) and maintained

March 19 now made him catch his breath  made his eyes murky wetted with memory too many memories to hold inside them

they leaked onto his cheeks and made thin quicksilver runlets which fell shining onto his chest

not tears

not really(though many thought they were  and if they were hed unashamedly spill them)

they were too many wonderful memories running past his eyes reeling pushing forward shoving those ahead from behind because they were at once jealous and anxious to be seen  so so many happy children so wonderfully raucous crying Look at me! Look at me!No you should look at me!

                                             and what he saw he remembered vividly  he saw their fantastic towering maypole gaily twisting around and around  occasionally a dark child spotted in the melee  pensive  morbid  they glowered  but they were few  they were right to have their memory seen  but they were always overcome overrun by their happier laughing consorts

he couldnt say as much for his children

they didnt know their mother as he did or as long as he had  since she was 18 and a tough resilient passionate 18 year old  as crazy as 18 is crazy  a beautiful frank Lucifer an explosive match that when irritated  erupted into flame

his children knew her when she was more subdued 

and then when her darkness overtook her 

and her physicians peering into her black well saw only their reflections returned to them  feeble confirmation of what was destroying her  taking her apart piece by piece

she would railsay awful insensitive things  but when the madness passed and she worked her words to herself over and over and over again  she wept and begged forgiveness

she did not mean her ugliness  her harmful words

but to children  young women  her lacerations rose welt and caused scars  and they could only tolerate so much  and they became distant in order to retain their sanity and selves

he could find not fault in their actions

they were trying to survive

they were young

they welcomed their quiet  distant  defence

March 19 

         he remembers the gaiety and colours the fun and surprises the warming wines the glittering waving candles atop the fresh strawberry whipped cream cakes

Sunday,  March 19, 2017

1555,  Twosday,  21  3. 17

1401 days remain or fewer

his daughter said What a fine trip! though I suppose youre anxious to get back to your blog

he conceded as much

I imagine some parts of this past week will appear in itglimmers  if not reproductions

We write what we know  I think the best thing of fiction is that it is formed in the crucible of living life eyes wide openaware  observant seeing  See what actually is unfolding  then refolding it   Fiction is origami folding the paper of life

Sometimes the things you say . . .

. . . Make you think

Papa  You always make me think  Probably why talking with you at times becomes so exhausting subtly youre making points I hadnt considered . . .

. . . I say them specifically  because I know from your personality or philosophyI dont doubt your intellectHell  Im partially responsible for it  but I have the time to delve deeper into subjects  So my telling you is information you could probably gleam yourself if you had the time

And then you seem of recent to conclude with  The more I read and learn and understand the less I know

The busy world and all its attributes are unfathomable

I love how you refer to us as earthlings and place us alongside all living things on the planet

Yes  If someone is unwilling to accept they are an earthling theyre not worth knowing

My papa  Always so black and white

You kids say that about me  I think you must forget how often I wrote you in college that I celebrate a spectrum of the whitest black to the blackest white

I remember  But you seem to have honed it

I have  If somethingusually what someone has said insults me at first blush  viscerally  all these long years have taught me I know who I am

I think youve known who you are since you were quite young

Perhaps

Thats what Gram and Grampa say  They say they couldnt have done half the things they did if it wasnt for you

Its nice to be recognised

So what have you considered for the blog to open with

he leaned over the arm separating their seats on the flight to Seattle and showed her a line that he scribbled madly back and forth under  for emphasis  so he wouldnt miss it among all the pages he had written and assembled while traveling  more than half of his travel he went alone

as she read it Ohno Youre not  Not really   Are you

Not really

Papa

Do you disagree with my premise

ImIm  Im not too sure its a matter of agreeing or disagreeing  People will be offended or upset that youve written it  And you know from the getgo theyre hard to catch to encourage  Inform  Because theyre . . .

. . . Faint of heart  Weak of stomach  Or mind

I dont think it has anything to do with bodily organs  Its sensibilities  Delicacies 

Organs are considered delicacies in many many cultures across the world

Those are foodstuffs

Im teasing

I know it

I appreciate you watching out for other peoples concerns  But theyre big people  They can withstand a little buffeting a little rock the boat – Dont tip the boat over(he sang)

And what do you hope gain  Aside from your usual shock value

Shock value

You really think my purpose is simply to shock

Papa  Not much what comes out of your mouth isnt challenging or intimidating

Thats an assessment  My words and inclinations are dependent upon my audience if youll excuse the terminology

Im not performing for an audience

No  Not performing  Offending is more apt

Big people shouldnt be offended by words  It isnt like theyve never heard them before

No  But they probably havent heard them in the context youre using them in

Mastication   Masturbation

Theyre visual Papa

And all the better to utilise them  Better health through more masturbation and less mastication 

Put down the food and pick up your cock or flit your clit

Jesus

Youre not saying the possible end isnt likely to be more healthy

No

But Im stealing your punch line  Happy Endings!

Ohshit  Thats yours  It hadnt occurred to me

Drop deadhadnt occurred to you  Quit your grinning

Theyd be healthier  Organically and Orgasmically Inclined  More OOI  Less OCD(other Os or Is?)

Papa  Never a dull moment hanging out with you

0800,  Twosday,  28  2. 17

0600-ishness,  Thursday,  9  3. 17

1402 days remain or less

Hues (idiot!) Corporation  Rock the Boat  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBYmEm-yLg8