one week left

one week left before returning to the far side of the world, where they drive on the wrong side of the road and everything is massively orderly and controlled. no free burn trash everyday, no cows in the streets and flocks of goats covering the roads, no little funky copper pot chai shops every 50 meters, no tiffen , iddli and dosa and talli masala samba chutney chapatti and puri. what a backward country America is, still stuck in the rigor of religious persecution and bent on creating new markets for industry using war as a negotiating tool. the anxiety of its people, even in the recently decriminalized zones where pot is finally permitted, sort of, they still persecute the smokers in every way but taking their money. you may have noticed a slight change in my blog lately, I for some reason began writing lyrics and channeling Robert Johnson and johhny cash and roy orbison a bit. don't worry I cant keep that up for long, but it was fun and I enjoyed every minute of the creative process, not eating or sleeping the whole time I was working out the lyrics. what is inspiration versus channeling? inspiration is the flow of the open and silent mind to the moment, channeling is taking on the personality of an energy force that is living in the collective. these forces become stronger after they drop the physical body. I gues I was doing a bit of both. I don't resist these impulses no matter how out of character they may seem, because there are no rules or requirements to be me. I just have to show up, the rest is all arranged. I imagine there was a bit more interest than usual for this material as it relates more directly to how most people se their world in the west. growing up in the east bay I got to see an especially gritty side to life, knife fights and gangs ala west side story, black ghettos and drug dealing, race riots at the bus stops and playing in the no mans land of Nichol Park just north of the tracks. but you know theres no better way to get up every day than to know anything could happen so get on your mojo and walk the long walk to the halls of education and play the games the players play and you your just an observer, until you get too close and the whole scene drops on your head like a bad movie. you learn to turn and face the wind, capture the beauty in the streets and empty lots, the kids on every kind of pedal and push machines racing to some new adventure. life was rough but good rough, just rough enough that you couldn't grow up blind. and the wind in the air from the bay and the cold rain that seemed to come and stay for weeks at a time, and my life long love affair with the fog. the northern hemisphere will always be in my DNA but the bay area is definitely a part of me. I left my heart, somewhere around Milpitas.