Echo

just as surely as dreams of flight before dying.
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I can have you but I won’t take you. It’s how you know I’m honorable.
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The more serious I am, the more famous I get.
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This is kind of interesting. Last week I wrote this in my book:

The earlier darkness also brought on more feelings of loneliness, as my days were consumed with work and I spent my evenings alone, writing, thinking and listening to music. I hadn’t really dated since the break-up, hadn’t met anyone where things really clicked, and I wasn’t interested in falling into a relationship only for the sake of being in one. I would rather be alone and enjoy my own company than be in unsuitable company. Plus, I’d been working hard trying to carve out who I was and who I wanted to be, continuing to work on myself to break through my own personal boundaries and reach new heights. I remember one sleepless night when I decided to take a walk. It was a cloudless night, no moon, and I looked up at the sky intending to make a wish on the first star I saw. My eyes locked on a bright one, low in the horizon, and I made a wish.

Like Steve Martin in The Jerk, I wished to find my special purpose. And perhaps a red thermos I could call my own.

A few days later was my birthday. Michael brought out a wrapped present, and my parents informed me that Michael had insisted on buying a present for me, picking it out all by himself. I opened it up, and would you believe it…it was a red Thermos.

Siggraph is in LA. I’m also getting home town advantage. All signs pointing to this launch point. This will be as big as I can make it. I’m gonna work my ass off to make this an incontrovertible breakthrough.
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Just put down a deposit on a 3-level loft in a new construction near downtown San Jose. I’m impressed. Like I wrote months ago, I’ve always wanted to live in a loft. And I found it! This building and unit are beautiful. Balcony facing west over tree-lined street and park. Patio off bedroom. Beautiful gym in building. Residential neighborhood in walking distance to downtown city dining and nightlife. Cool thing was they built a new building out of an old red-brick factory, but used the old walls, graffiti’d and all, for decor. My patio has a brick wall with a graffiti’d 7 on it. Up next, the negotiations. Where I thrive.
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Oh my God. Siggraph ends July. August has the potential to be massive.

Wait, there’s an extra 9 hiding. I always admired 36.

To Ernesto who told me he’s turning 36 in October, and I said 36 is a great age for a man because it’s when he really figures out his shit.

I still believe it. Have an amazing year.

7 7 7 7

_888_

=

the trophy that is my iPod.

To 7, my prophet and guide, who loves me so much he can not touch me.

You are worth reclaiming.

You are worth the quest.

by the way, do you know flight 333 has shipped my iPod to Dallas?

I’ve left so many messages on so many machines, talked to one girl who claimed to be out sick for a week who transferred me to another who claimed to be sick for the next two days. Find out they’ve shipped my iPod to Dallas, despite my strong expression that they leave it where it is, and I will fly over to Oakland and pick it up.

Seattle tells me they won’t even ship it back to me because of “we don’t ship any passengers’ items due to liability issues. You can give us your Fed Ex number.” Yet they decide to ship it to Dallas.

Where I assume, it will be examined aboard the Southwest Mothership.

What is going on?

My iPod disappears on Flight 333, to be deboarded by a flight attendant acting out of her own volition, to end up in Oakland which is close enough to my home town in time and place for me to physically go there the next week and pick it up, but they send it to Dallas. My birth place, where I have not returned since I was 2 months old.

What. the. fuck.

Clearly I’m being summoned to Dallas. Just like Team True Blood in the episodes I watched last week as I was preparing to come home. Clearly, I will also be required to stay at the sickest, sleakest hotel I can find. The kind where it’s always night, and if we’re not fucking you, it’s because it’d be too easy. Clearly.

Numbers:

Tracking 798 735 752 476

Phone 214 792 560 3600

She threw in extra digits for the phone number.  Even she stopped and said, “No wait, that’s not it.” But I wrote down what she said, and this is what I saw: 9 9 9

Have you listened to a stranger read off a phone number that you suddenly realized was yours?

I was born 9, 3 times.

I was born 9 times, as 3.

Let’s write an ending in Dallas.

How strange that I choose to have my birthday at the Texas Roadhouse. Before I leave, I text Brian, “May we never lose the Texan in us.” I’ve lost my ability to do accents, but I can always pick up Texas.

It was only supposed to be a few people, and then more and more people got invited. Had to handle an ego situation with the manager. Looked for him to give him cake, hoping he could learn something from the night and be better, but he was nowhere to be found. Had just enough pieces for the waitress, the hostess and the busboy.

Strange how during birthday times, my body handles alcohol.

My body is doing it’s own thing right now. I don’t look like me. But I’m assuming that it’s like this, because I’m preparing something for Saturday. Why 19 on a 19? 1. I don’t trust 1. One is unlimited potential and unlimited power. But it also kills a part of you while the rest goes on living. And it tends to be the good part. 2 has always had more humanity. as a god, as a human.

let us all be better humans within our gods, so that our gods can be greater humans.

When what we aren’t becomes what we are, then we are no longer what we used to be.

It’s the way of growth. Do not let the fears and limitations of others define you or your aim. Wherever your dreams lay, set your path for them.
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I was in LA when Michael Jackson died. We live down the street from UCLA’s Emergency Room, so we walked into Westwood where hundreds of people had already gathered in candlelight vigil. Even Jesus was there, long hair, robe and everything, praying for the soul of Michael.

Last week at PT, the subject came up and Sarah mentioned she was in LA that weekend as well. She was on her way to the airport, fighting traffic on the 405, and some radio station was playing Beat It. Suddenly, it seemed like every car on the freeway had its windows down, tuned into the same song, so that the entire freeway, the entire moment, was the dedication of a voice that lived on.

Jesus was resurrected 3 days after he died. Or was it his spirit, through his passion and his words?

I’ve often wondered how to live on after physical death. I envision it will require a light so radiant and life-giving, it will live on after my passing, connecting the hearts and dreams of people.

Perhaps two things in complementary opposition are dangerous to each other because their entire sense of identity would dissolve the moment they realize they are the same.

Today’s Mood:

am looking for the moon. heard it’s a good one tonight.

Ask yourself, do you want a woman who can take care of your hopes and dreams better than she can take care of a house plant? A woman who can find god in every corner? A woman as fickle as a storm? Who falls into wells without a moment’s notice? A woman who makes you believe dreams are real?

Can you really be with her and honor her, commit to not hurting her, even during those times when she makes you want to punch through walls?

It’s not a question of good or bad, right or wrong. It’s about what is.

Can you really make something out of this or not? Just be honest. There’s no reason for us to be dangerous to each other.

You find two types of humans in this world. Unable and unwilling. We spend the first part of our lives understanding the difference, the next part understanding what we are, and then when the two understandings come together, you have a perspective with which to use it.

I made a bet tonight, to be revisited in exactly 5 years on this day, my birthday 2015.

I always believe in #2. #2 has every reason in the world to succeed, while #1 has every excuse in the world to fail. It’s easier to be pulled uphill than pushed downhill. Theoretically. I hope to be right.

Men love to imagine themselves as the one who will always catch the woman they love should she ever fall, but do they know themselves and have enough of a handle on their issues to be sure they aren’t the one who pushes her? A noble heart and good intentions means nothing if you can not protect the ones you love from yourself.
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Objective for the year of 32:

World…Recognize.

I wanted to be with you alone
And talk about the weather
But traditions I can trace against the child in your face
Won’t escape my attention
You keep your distance via the system of touch
And gentle persuasion
I’m lost in admiration, could I need you this much?
Oh, you’re wasting my time
You’re just…just…just wasting time