Bowl of Oranges

Tonight was rough with pain which is more tricky now without health insurance and thus without pain medications, but I'm working on that. Going to school tomorrow early to try to get more loans and to get a proper multi-meter.

Questions and Answers survey I stole from Cody

Do you think​ the last perso​n you kisse​d cares​ for you?
Nope, they're dead.


What are you excit​ed for?
Going to sort the Enfield this weekend and Balducci is flying in from Korea next Wed.​


Who is the third​ perso​n on your top?
The Offspring.​ I only have a handful of actual friends on here.


Do you belie​ve what goes aroun​d comes​ aroun​d?​
I try to, but it's hard sometimes, especially when so many people die far too young to get the better end of the stick.


Have you ever cried​ from being​ so mad?
Yes, but for me grief and anger tend to dance hand in hand.


Who did you last yell at?
Yell at? In anger? Nobody in at least 7-8 months.

What was the last thing​ to make you laugh​?​
Seeing Zack all strung out on cocaine - the energy drink.

Did you cry today​?​
A bit in class but that was when the pain in my ribs was up to a 9 and I was trying to sit there and shine it on, I couldn't leave because I'm not going to leave school early again, and I don't like to show strangers how much pain I'm in so I just sat there and looked depressed, instead of here where I would curl up into a ball and wait for the pain to go away or escalate till I pass out. 


Did you ever lose a best frien​d?​
Sam killed himself Feb 3 2006, I was with him when he died, his arm around my should. I don't tend to loose friends in arguments, I tend to loose friends to drugs, suicides, and murder.


Where​ will you be two hours​ from now?
In bed praying for sleep to come and take me away.


Can you make yours​elf sneez​e?​
No, when I try I end up coughing up blood. Is that bad?


What'​s your curre​nt mood?​
tired, hammered, weary, sad, but also happy and excited because I made it through class even if just being there.​

Who was the last perso​n to yell at you? For what?​
My uncle Matt because apparently my visiting him in Boulder with a not perfectly running motorcycle was a horrible burden to him. I can't blame him too much, he's apparently dying - though why he chose to tell me on the 1 year anniversary of my father's death I will never be sure. Sure as hell didn't help me, he's dad's younger brother, my favorite uncle, and frankly since he told no one else I still can't fathom what reason he would have for this.


What are you stres​sed out about​?​
My health, money, rent, school, life, love, happyness, lack of sleep.

Do you have a best frien​d?​
I have a few. The two I both know I can tell anything to and feel utterly comfortable doing so without judgement are Kyle and Liam. 

Missi​ng someo​ne?​
Yes.


Who was the last perso​n to look at you like you were crazy​?​
Some kid in class tonight.


Talke​d to a jerk today​?​
Yup, but several of my best friends are jerks, haha.

Been to a conce​rt latel​y?​
Not since just after Dad died, saw Collective Soul, Counting Crows, and Live.​

What made you sad today​?​
I was thinking about things I will never have.

Has a boy/​girl calle​d you babe or baby in the past two days?​
nope.​


Has anybo​dy ever given​ you butte​rflie​s?​
defin​itely​.​


What are your plans​ for the weeke​nd?​
Work on the Enfield, maybe the Triumph, go grocery shopping, try to connect with Joe. The usual.

What were your first​ thoug​hts this morni​ng?​
....fuck....

Do you know anyon​e who has messe​d up your life?​
I can think of a few who are still alive, but most of them are dead now.​


Is there​ any meani​ng behin​d your profi​le song?​
All of them connect with some part of my soul.


Are most of the frien​ds in your life new or old?
In my life here? All new. But they are solid reliable friends, which makes them the best kind.


Do you want to hit somet​hing?​
I would if my hands didn't hurt so damned much


Who'​s the last perso​n you hugge​d?​
ummmm.... Jasmine I think, a couple months ago, before that it was family members in July '08, before that it was a lot of people in july '07 when dad died, and before that it had been years.


Day been rough​?​
Not till about 8:30PM


is there​ someo​ne you want to be spend​ing time with right​ now?
I can think of a few people who I wish were in my apartment with me, but I hold no expectations of them ever being in here with me.

Plans​ for your next birth​day?​
Thats 11 months from now, part of me wonders if I'll even still be alive.


Are you open about​ your feeli​ngs or close​d off?
I will answer any direct question openly and honestly, and I write a lot, but I don't generally TELL people things on my own accord. 


What are you liste​ning to?
Bowl of Oranges - Bright Eyes


Do you think​ your best frien​d and you will be frien​ds in 10 years​?​
I've been friends with Kyle since 2002, and I have been friends with Liam since 2004. With the beauty of the internet - assuming the entire world doesnt fuck itself soon, yes.

How long have you known​ your best frien​d?​
I just answered that didn't I? Kyle 7 years, Liam 5 years, Brent 10 years, Jon 11 years, John 10 years, Paul 5 years, Chris 5 years... 


Did you laugh​ at somet​hing today​?​
Several things in class I think.

What do you want right​ now?
Peace with all the things I'm not at peace with. That and money. Money would be more useful as I need it for rent, food, health care, medication, insurance, etc.

Did you enjoy​ your last weeke​nd?​
A pal of mine shot himself in the head which kind of put a damper on things.​

Two Songs I love, one by Bright Eyes, one by Josh RItter

I don't expect you to read everything, so I'll bold what means the most to me.

Rumors - Josh Ritter

Serenade me with rocks, love
No lullabies through the locks love
I locked myself in with the band
But the music's never loud enough

Decibels in the belfry
Hey what the hell if it helps me
I put a whip to the kick drum
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

My orchestra is gigantic
This thing could sink the Titanic
And the string section's screaming
Like horses in a barn burning up

He plays pianos with fistfuls
Of broken Belvedere crystal
And he's trying to forget you
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

He's impaling the front row
Fighting fires with arrows
And he'll act like he forgot you
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

Bowl of Oranges - Bright Eyes

The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed. 

There was a loophole in my dreaming,
so I got out of it. 

And to my surprise my eyes were wide and already open.
Just my nightstand and my dresser where those nightmares had just been.
So I dressed myself and left then, out into the gray streets.
But everything seemed different and completely new to me.
The sky, the trees, houses, buildings, even my own body.
And each person I encountered, I couldn't wait to meet.
I came upon a doctor who appeared in quite poor health.
I said "{I am terribly sorry but} there is nothing I can do for you
{that} you can't do for yourself."
He said "Oh yes you can. Just hold my hand. I think that would help."
So I sat with him a while and then I asked him how he felt.
He said, "I think I'm cured. No, in fact, I'm sure.
Thank you Stranger, for your therapeutic smile."
So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone.
And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow.
But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself.
It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or simple song of hope.
That is why I'm singing...
Baby don't worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying,
I'm gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad,
then we will wait for it to pass and I will keep you company
through those days so long and black.
And we'll keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve 
Of Love's uneven remainders, our lives are fractions of a whole.
But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall.
Then I think we would see the beauty.
Then we would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges,
like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.

Hatchett

Ok so there was the one dude at my school who I was utterly convinced was gay, but closeted. That would be Davis. Cute as hell. 

He's my type. Shorter, skinny, strong, good features. Had all the signs and flags that I look for - which can be tricky because I don't go for the obvious gays. But he just... you look at him and you think "he's gay". But then that girl in the picture... well that's his wife. Not like oh me and my gf are practically married.... no no no... they ARE married. So errrr.... well he could be gay, he could be bi, or I could have had it totally wrong and he is most certainly straight. 

This is a bit of a disappointment even though I knew from the start that he was out of my class. I rate looks in old naval terms. You have brigs, sloops, 3rd rate, 2nd rate, and 1st rate frigates, you have 1 deckers, 2 deckers, and 3 deckers. The last three can also be cataloged by rates. At any rate in general looks when cleaned up I'm a 1st rate frigate. Davis is a 1st rate 3 decker. See a frigate wouldn't normally fight a 3 decker because they are out gunned, out manned, and thus it is out of their class. There is no loss of honor in tucking in your tail and running like hell from a 3 decker. 

So that's the end of Davis. I'll continue to be nice, and I will try to become a friend to some extent, but I will not make any attempts to make any indication that I am interested. The risk has gone up quite a bit higher with him.

I should point out that by all rights I am closeted here. I wasn't back in Worcester. I've never been a flag flyer. I have as much pride in being bisexual as the average straight guy has in being straight. He doesn't fly a flag, he doesn't walk around saying "Hi, I'm Tom, and I'm Heterosexual" and I see no reason and feel no reason to do so either. But back East it was common knowledge from the age of 18 to 24 when I moved out here. Everyone who knew me or knew of me - knew. It just gets around. 

Out here I haven't said "Oh, hey, by the way, I dig guys too - oh, ya, actually more than girls" because in the beginning the toasts of "More Beers, Fewer Queers" dissolved any inclination to do so, and as time went on I just haven't had the opprotunity. As anyone who is gay or bi - but not obviously so knows, it's a bit tricky because you ACTUALLY HAVE TO SAY IT. Which I find awkward as hell. It is my personal life and not something I tend to talk about. I play cards close to my chest as it where. And no one has said "Hey are you gay" - to which the answer is technically No. But they also haven't said "Hey are you Bi?" or my favorite "Any chance you aren't totally into girls?" which leaves a lot of room to tread water - which is why it has always been my line of choice.

Now... Hatchett. That is the name of a dude in my current class. Cute dude. He actually looks quite a bit like that dude Shannon who has a blog on here, the same boyish face. But his face is just excellent. Good strong arms too. That's really all I can gather with our school uniforms. He's a nice kid, works hard, asks for help when he needs it.

I found his myspace and his facebook last night. On facebook he's not listed as gay or straight, he's just not listed. Myspace is private. I sent an add tonight. So we'll see how that goes. He is the guy who I would love to get to know more. He's a california skater. Down to earth guy. He's not built like Davis. But he's definitely out of my class as well. Still I feel an obligation to try. 

The only other obvious kid is well... obvious. Of course the Emo scene has thrown us all for a loop because before a dude who acted a bit fem, wore women's jeans, and all that crap were quite obviously gay. But now you have Emo guys who dress like gayish guys who could very well be straight guys... *shakes fist at Emo scene* ... This dude, I don't even know his name is cute, blonde, and well I swear to Poseidon that he is gay. But I have been wrong before. 

At any rate that's it for me for now. We'll see what happens. And by We I mean Me because I am quite certain I am the only person here. 

Agenda

Find food.

Do my homework.

Go to school for 6 hours.

Go to sleep.

Get up.

Repeat.

Greasy hands

As I lay here in my apartment stretched out on the couch, I listen to Eddie Vedder and think about escaping into some other state.

The couch as I think I have said is terribly as far as fashion, style, or comfort is concerned. Its sort of a collage of browns greens and pinks stitched in some horrific patternless patter that makes your eyes ache.

I am wearing my jeans, no socks or shoes, no underwear - which I stopped using back in July when I discovered the extent of Arizona heat, and my coach belt given to me by my Uncle George on my way across the United States - again - back in July.

My upper body leaves much to be desired for muscles, actually most of my body is that way, but I am not at all fat, not in the least bit. What little form I have is muscles hung on to the frame as you would throw a worn shirt up on a coat rack. 

My hair is short, but growing out slightly, my face has not been cleanly shaved in a couple of days but what facial hair exists is less than 1/8th of an inch long, it is however a blood red - for sake of my irish and german heritage.

My hands which have always been my best feature are stained black and grey with oil and grease, my right thumb is stained worse than any other bit. 

Around my neck hangs a silver necklace which Zack gave me the night I keeled over and withered on the floor of his apartment. An act I did again last night although I did make it out of his place before it hit me full, and with the help of Zack and Zero - both Texans - I made it to my bed where I withered around until painkillers took hold and brought the pain in my chest, a deep striking pain - like knives but also as though someone had an expander inside my rib cage and was trying to force it apart which leaves me clutching my chest and sides trying to hold it all together in vain - because it's just the muscles and my ribs aren't really expanding nor contracting.

I can just make out the loop of the Triumph logo which is tattooed across my chest. My feet tingle and my hands ache, except for my right hand pinky which is experiencing a sharpened pain which makes me not want to bend it in the least.

My teeth are yellow and stained from tobacco smoke, and my tongue is much the same. My eyes have bags below from fitful sleep, and the eyeballs themselves appear to be bloodshot. 

No one would mistake me for attractive, though I once was. When the shrinks informed me that the damage that was done from some years of abuse was most likely uncorrectable and that horrible fear that strikes me down to my core and grips my heart and makes me want to curl up into a ball when ever someone wants to show any sense of intimate contact with me was never going to go away - that it can not be fixed, that this is just the way I am designed now -- that is when I stopped worrying about my general appearance. That is when I stopped trying to look good for others, when the idea of attracting anyone from the opposite sex or the same sex became more of a trouble than of a welcome relief to the loneliness.

The Royal Enfield is once again a road bike. Not a safe road bike with multiple speeds. It actually only has one working gear which there is quite a bit of effort in finding, you have to use your hand to shift from neutral into gear. But god what fun it is to ride! You have no idea. If you get used to heavy bikes, and all bikes seem heavy compared to this one, and oh how it steers, it is quite a blast to ride and will go 50 in the gear that is available at this time.

I will pull the gearbox apart sometime this week and find out where the other gears have run off to. 

kinda fucked up

was down in zack's apartment listening to him and zero playing music. a good night till my body started to fuck up on me. it hit it's limit and they had to abandon the rest of the group and bring me back here. pain is down due mostly to a painkiller i was given. really starting to kick in now. feeling loose and drowsy. gonna strip down and pass out pretty quick. watching 'sleepers' which is never a good idea for me because my past hits so close to home. 

more later, but i'll probably pass out before too long. if there's a god i'll pass out. 

Bikes, Trucks, batteries, smokes, pepsi, records, and dreams.

Bikes, Trucks, batteries, smokes, pepsi, records, and dreams.

Bikes are always on my mind, as you may well know. Worked on the Royal Enfield last night. I installed the 

two new pushrods in the bike and we started her up, and well she ran pretty damned well. There is some

serious frustration in the fact that the battery is shot, so I got myself a new one of those today, it's in the top

box as we speak. With the new battery there are serious hopes that the bike will run like a clock, and that will

be the end of it. Then I can bring the bike home and give Joe his lift back.

Joe bought a 1954 Chevy pickup truck for $1000 which he intends to restore. It was running when he got it

but looks like a well used unrestored truck from the 50s. In other words it's beat to shit. But he has high hopes

and is really getting into it. He's a bit tired of bikes at the moment, tired of the hardship that goes with them,

and looking forward to a 50s pickup. When he was a kid he and his father restored a 1949 Ford pickup which

he has told me a great deal about.

Now maybe restore is the wrong word. Joe and I think a lot alike. We don't restore things back to original

spec. We update and modify. So this truck is getting a V8 out of a sports car, disc brakes, modernish

electrics, and new paint. The truck will be incredibly fast off the line and hellishly fun to drive.

Now I myself an a low horse power kind of guy. I like bikes with about 50HP where as Joe likes bikes with

about 150HP. The truck is the same. He is removing the straight 6 that the truck came with for the V8. I

myself love a straight six, and will be sad to see it go.

The new pipes are proving to be quite wonderful. Both of them with their silver bands by the stem, their

wooden bowls which I think are made of briar. The fact that they are made in Dublin is something I find

delightful, and that is simply style I suppose, but they are great for smoking and hang off the jaw just right

so you can smoke hands free. They also come broken in, which is delightful as they light with one match,

where as every pipe I have bought prior to these you had to go through a dozen matches to keep them lit

until they were properly broken in some days later.

Pepsi is of course my drink of choice, and between the drink and the smoking my teeth have suffered most

cruelly. I have never claimed to be an attractive gent, well I used to be about 10 years ago, but now I am

somewhat haggard looking. Something I strive off of. As I cannot ever be with anyone I have to go in a

different direction. That direction for me is opposite of what many others would hope to achieve. I cannot

even begin to remember the last time anyone checked me out, and that is the point. I can't deal with physical

contact anymore - scares the hell out of me - so if I look like hell then I am treated as a wrench and the cute

guys and girls leave me alone, actually everyone does - in the sexual sense. The only time I spend in bed

tends to be with middle aged housewives and that's because I am VERY good at it and they care more about

my being 10-20 years younger than they are than they do that I may not be the best looking guy on the road.

I can only do that, could only do that because it was a job. I can't stand the contact on a purely emotional

level anymore with women than I can with men.

Records continue to be a saving grace for me. I am listening to a Live U2 record from the 80s right now. It's

a bit battered and has been played a LOT, all the high notes have been worn away - funny how you can do

that with records. But that's alright. I would rather listen to a flat record than a brand new CD.

Dreams are something else again. For as long as I can remember I have been having nightmares. I have been

having them nightly since I was 11. That's 14 years of nightmares. Well last night Padraic was in my dreams.

He's a slim bi dude that I have known for about 5 years, on and off, and he's really cool. In the dream we

were cuddling, which was positively wonderful. I think we were both younger in the dream, I was still in my

my teens and he was maybe 17. The added difference is that I am 25 and he is now 19 I think. But it was the

most wonderful dream. 

In the beginning of the month I had a dream about Connor who is 18 now, he's a

magnificent actor and a genuinely good guy, and it was not at all sexual, but we were hanging out and I was

being accepted. In that one I was my current age and ran into him and this dude Tom in a grocery store, and

we were all laughing and joking. Then when he and Tom were going out to dinner I invited myself - I re-

member such fear at the thought of rejection, because I didn't want to be alone, I didn't want it to end - and I

think that had he rejected me then the dream would have gone into a nightmare. So Connor was safety. Tom

I have never met, he's younger, but I have seen him in at least two shows at SJ so I know a bit. Well the

dream went through dinner and ended at SJ in the theater working on a set - which is also how I know

Connor - he has helped the tech crew on a couple of sets for PJ's shows which I have been working on since

I was a senior way back in 2002.

Those two dreams are the only two pleasant dreams I have had in the last 14 years, and I would like to think

that having 2 in one month might just mean that there is a chance that my mind is finally repairing itself from

the inside, repair from all of the trauma that I have experienced over the years.

That gives me Hope.

Royal Enfield

So thats the Royal Enfield about a month ago.

I got it cheap with a compression leak which was reported to be a blown head gasket.

What I found was a head that had welded itself to the barrel from excessive heat. I found black oil. I found a broken pushrod. I found a broken shaft that drives the oil pumps.

The bike has since got a new head, barrel, push rods - actually getting ready to replace them a second time, oil, oil filter, oil drive worm gear, oil pump drive shaft, valves, valve springs...

I also have here at my apartment a new gastank, chrome fenders, and sideboxes for it. The old school seat, license plate bracket, tail light, and pod air filter were also my additions. 

I also changed the gear shift over from left side shift to right side shift up one down 3. 

It's the 1950s British single, it's the work horse, it's a mule. Its dead reliable when treated right. 

Hand grenades when treated wrong! 

I got in touch with Joe today - it's at his house, and will go over tonight to work on it. He just bought a 50's pickup truck and needs the space in his garage back.

Wahoo right?

Life

I just talked to Kyle which was cool. He's going to be a career student it looks like. He got excepted into a mechanical engineering PhD program at UCLA, which would land him in college for another 6 years after he graduates BU this year. That boy is going to be a rocket scientist for sure. Not sure if I can call him "that boy" or "the boy" anymore, hahaha, he's in his 20s and quite the man. 

The above picture is New Years Eve. Myself looking good and homeless. One of my favorite pictures though.

Much to do today. Ramble more later.

Pipes and Trip Report.

I'm starting to get the hang of how to post pictures on here. I still prefer the Xanga technique, but it's all how you look at things. 

So I recently came into two new pipes.

This first one is a bit more fancy and it was a birthday present from one of my uncles. It'll take some getting used to because the hole in the stem is on top instead of at the end, and so my usual style of holding the pipe in my mouth is now faulty with this one. I do like it though, and it has a beautiful finish.

This second one I picked up in the town of Palm Desert. It's made by the same company as the other, Peterson, which is an Irish company - both pipes are made in Dublin which is pretty cool. Most of my pipes are either made in Italy or England, so it's nice to have an Irish pipe. This one is an Army pipe and the stem separates for easy stowing in a pocket. 

In this picture you can see me so happy in my Barbour jacket leaned up against the front wheel of my Triumph. It was taken on my ride home from California today. 300 miles, long miles, hard miles as I was pushing the bike running at about 5500RPM in 5th gear - I was going about 95mph the whole way back to Phoenix. Did pretty good though, if not for the total lack of wind protection I'd have been perfectly happy.

My question is, would my feelings on the wind be different if it was 80 out instead of 60? If I could be in a tee instead of waxed cotton and a wool vest? I'm not sure. I think either way the wind would have beat the hell out of me. I was tired and sore with 160 miles left to go in that picture. 

It's nearly 3 in the morning here, and I'm more than a bit hammered so I think I will cut this here.

More later for sure.

Johnny Appleseed

Smoking my new pipe in my motel room - which I'm technically not supposed to be doing. It's about 8AM Phoenix time, but here in California its only 7. I'm getting ready to get back on the road and head back to Phoenix. It will be pretty direct. Get back on Interstate 10 - East and ride for about 270 miles, the Interstate 17 North for another 30 miles. 

I will think twice before I make another such attempt at this on the T100. I'll need a bigger windshield - a Windjammer fairing. 

Ugly aren't they? But they keep the wind and weather off. I think that would be necessary. Or something like it. I don't know. I need to think about it.

But chances are, where ever I go from here, it will be moving, and thus I'll be in the back of a moving truck - which will make it not quite as bad. 

It was a good eye opener. A good trip, and I got a cool pipe out of it.

But now it is time to pack up and head back to Phoenix!

U2 - Exit

This is the song I used to play on loop when I had a loaded pistol on my desk and tried - often in vain - to think of reasons not to end it. This is the song that I had on loop when I put the barrel of a loaded pistol in my mouth and pulled the trigger 10 years ago. This is that song. Gun didn't go off by the way. This is the song I used to sing to myself all the time. This is that song:

Exit 

You know he got the cure

But then he went astray

He used to stay awake

To drive the dreams he had away

He wanted to believe 

In the hands of love

His head it felt heavy

As he cut across the land

A dog started cryin 

Like a broken hearted man

At the howling wind

At the howling wind

He went deeper into black

Deeper into white

He sees the stars shine

Like nails in the night

He felt the healing

Healing, healing, healing hands of love

Like the stars shiny, shiny from above

His hand in the pocket

His hand on the steel

The pistol weighed heavy

His heart he could feel was beating, beating

Beating, beating, beating

Oh my love, my love, my love, my love

So the hands that build

Can also pull down

Even the hands of love

Even the hands of Love!

I wish I had a picture of myself that goes back that far, this is close, I was 19 when this was taken.

Amazing how little 6 years has effected me physically.

Yelchin

Looking forward to the new Star Trek movie, not just because I am a full fledged fan of the series, but because the cast for this one is full of good looking gents, including one of my all time favorites of the up and coming actors - Anton Yelchin. 

I just sliced my right foot open with the pull off top from a tobacco tin. Lots of blood. Going to go deal with that now.

- back - 

Foot is wrapped in a t-shirt I have been using for nose bleeds. 

Went to the record store today that I've been avoiding since I got here. Stupidity is a virtue for me. 

Prior to today I had a few records, 

Let It Be - The Beatles

Abbey Road - The Beatles

The Downward Spiral - Nine Inch Nails

Nevermind - Nirvana 

Until It Sleeps - Matalica - 45

Sloop John B - The Beach Boys - 45

But as of today I have:

Graceland - Paul Simon

The Joshua Tree - U2

The Cars - The Cars

Modern Times - Bob Dylan

Who's Next - The Who

Under a Blood Red Sky - U2 live

OK Computer - Radiohead

I love vinyl records, has always been one of my favorite things, yet another love that my father helped me discover.

The Joshua Tree came with a nice little pamphlet like the ones you get with CDs but bigger, ie - the size of a record. Has provided a few more pictures for my walls.

Funny things

Well my apartment is a mess and I'll clean it up today at some point. Needs a real thorough cleaning for sure. 

My hair is beginning to grow back in, although I doubt I'll let it get as long as I had it before. I was going for that 70s look:

Which the Triumph tattoo that I love so much intensifies a bit as that was the logo on both my '73 Triumphs - actually the logo they used right up through the 20s till the 80s. The new Triumph logo doesn't have the cool loop, the swoop ends just before the H. 

I am wearing my much battered Saint John's phys-ed shirt which I have had since I was at least 14. I think it began life as my brother's shirt so it could date back all the way to 1995. I have rebuilt or built at least 5 motorcycles wearing this shirt, as well as a rag. It is actually quite clean in this photo and smells like laundry detergent. It just looks like hell. 

As I type I am smoking Bombay Extra which is my choice tobacco, out of my favorite and most used pipe.

Listening to 'The Diamond Sea' by Sonic Youth:

Time takes its crazy toll 
and how does your mirror grow 
you better watch yourself when you jump into it 
'cause the mirror's gonna steal your soul 

I wonder how it came to be my friend 
that someone just like you has come again 
you'll never, never know how close you came 
until you fall in love with the diamond rain 

throw all his trash away 
look out he's here to stay 
your mirror's gonna crack when he breaks into it 
and you'll never never be the same 

look into his eyes and you can see 
why all the little kids are dressed in dreams 
I wonder how he's gonna make it back 
when he sees that you just know it's make-belief 

blood crystalized as sand 
and now I hope you'll understand 
you reflected into his looking glass soul 
and now the mirror is your only friend 

look into his eyes and you will see 
that men are not alone on the diamond sea 
sail into the heart of the lonely storm 
and tell her that you'll love her eternally 

time takes its crazy toll 
mirror fallin' off the wall 
you better look out for the looking glass girl 
'cause she's gonna take you for a fall 

look into his eyes and you shall see 
why everything is quiet and nothing's free 
I wonder how he's gonna make her smile 
when love is running wild on the diamond sea 

It is one of my favorite songs. I am also listening to 'Lazy Eye' by Silversun Pickups, which is another favorite of mine.

Still getting used to this new Blog style, how to post pictures, how to copy text, the whole deal.

Yes, my apartment IS a mess. Motorcycle parts everywhere, tools scattered. Hell there's a Royal Enfield gas tank on my kitchen counter. I'll probably have to use one of my 40 gallon trash bags to clean up all the junk in here. But once that's done it'll be right as rain.

I have to think about cutting my storage shed. It's been empty for a couple months, and at $40 a month that's not efficient. That said I'll probably stow the Royal Enfield in there once it's back here. So there is that. I prefer having the Triumph out, mostly because it gives me the least amount of time to get on the road, I don't like having to walk all the way to the sheds, roll out, then ride down the little sidewalk and all that crap just to get down to the corner store. With the Triumph out I just walk out my door, down the back stairs, and out to the bike. 2 locks, warm it up, and off I go. Easy Peasy, Japaneasy - as Brooks would say.

Now the song is 'Rooftops' by Lostprophets. Good song, great band.

I'm contemplating a bath. It actually takes contemplation because at 6' 5" I barely fit in the tiny bath tub. Remember this used to be a hotel, though has more characteristics of a Motel so the bathtub is quite small and quite cheap. 

I miss the American Standard Collection stuff, for bathroom fixtures, no matter where I end up, I will have that sort of stuff for bathroom fixtures.

The perfect sink:

The perfect toilet:

And finally the soaking tub:

As is I have the overflow blocked off on my current tub so I can at least get the water up past my shoulders if I cross my legs. I have long since discovered the best finish to a bath is to stand up and take a quick shower afterwards because you are after all laying in your own filth when you take one, and the show rejuvenates you after the bath which tends to all but put you to sleep.

Anyways, enough rambling for now. Time to clean.

Marcus Antonius:

And Caesar's spirit, raging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.

I've been writing again, not much worth publishing though, not much that could be published, that said I do still have the trip journal to work out and then that or at least a part of it can be published some place.

That one quote "Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war" rings in my head. 

That's the key to it all I think. Not necessarily that quote in particular - although it certainly does throw out quite the image of life as it should be. That's the crazy thing, trying to figure out my spirit. 

I know that I have the potential to be great. I have known that forever. And I know that despite the damage I have suffered, I am still solid. I know that my good nature is still intact. I did give Cam the KZ1000 with no expectations in return. Gave Barrett the pipe that was dad's, which I am sure he'll keep forever. Gave a pipe to Zack as well, and he gets so excited at the possibility of smoking a bowl with me when ever I'm over at his apartment or at Cam's - or hell mine too. I have those kids the $600 so they wouldn't have to sell themselves to get home. I can give, I know that much.

But can I create? I have my bikes. 

I'll post more later, I think I'm going to take a bath.

Hum

Didn't achieve quite as much today as I set out to. But got a solid amount done, and I have more to do tomorrow. 

I'll go to the grocery store tomorrow. I want to get some brown boot polish to try to darken up the Corbin a bit, and I also have to make a new bracket for the seat to bike attachment. 

The center stand for the Enfield arrived. It has both tabs for springs so it will actually fit. I also have the pushrods coming tomorrow. I can't wait to have the Enfield running right. I might have to ride to Joe's house tomorrow evening and snag my back pack so I can bring the new gas tank over on Saturday night.

I also made it to Stagg to get some more tobacco and splurged. I got a couple new types as well as my same old regular stuff. I got Mac Baren's Navy Mixture, which I quite like, I got Peterson's Special Reserve which is a bit sweet for me, about to try another bowl, and I got two 50g tins of Bombay Extra which is my favorite and was dad's favorite - which adds to the magic of the whole thing.

Well, more later.

 

Errands

Well today should prove quite busy. 

I have to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles and get the Triumph T100 put into my name. I have to get a license plate for it that's legal, I have to get it insured.

I have to go to Stagg Tobacconist and buy some more Bombay Extra, a little bit of one of their special blends, and maybe a cigar.

I have to go to the bank and open up a local account.

I have to go to the grocery store and buy some bread and lunch meat. 

I have to get some food sooner than later.

Errr that's about it really. 

God I love having wheels again.

I ordered the new pushrods for the Royal Enfield - they should be here tomorrow. Once I get those installed the bike should be much happier - well errr at least running. Then I'll have a pair of machines again.

Hum, what a wonder things are right now.

I'm actually happy.

It's weird.

Brett

I was thinking about Brett. Brett is one of two skaters I had over my apartment not too long ago. I had seen their add on craigslist - young guys, Brett is 18. There add was quite the same as that ratty kid you see on the street corner at 3AM trying to get picked up, but not quite sure how to approach a john. Something I'm sad to say I know something about, but not exactly from that angle - meaning I've neither been in that exact situation, though one quite close. Actually quite a few situations close and perhaps worse.

The point is their stipulation "Generous guys BIG +" was kind of a tip off, so I sent them a message. Now it should be said that I go to craigslist to look at the pictures - most of which are revolting, and to thank god that I have managed to avoid that scene - though again one would say I've been in worse scenes than that, which I suppose is true.

So I messaged Brett. Emailed him, sent him my phone number and said I was willing to be generous - in the neighborhood of $100.

Now I will also fully admit that such a deal tempted me extremely, I'm not claiming utterly honorable intentions, but before they arrived the next day I had come to the idea that I would give them the $100 and send them on their way.

They arrived, Brett was alright looking, my type more or less. His friend, well you know when you were a little kid and you saw an awesome toy on TV and just had to have it - got it and found it to be poorly made, cheap, ugly, and not worth much... well ya... harsh but true.

Once in my apartment they were both nervous. I too was shaking a bit, but for different reasons. I saw before me two youths who were walking a very fine line which once crossed can be quite destructive to one's soul.

I had The Departed on the TV, which is a bit of a reminder of home for me, Boston being oh so close to my home, and also being the home of my best friend.

They took up position on the couch and I say across from them. I quite liked Brett, I'll admit that, and I was tempted - I knew that I could do just about anything right then and it would be mine to do. Thats a powerful feeling, one that I at a time enjoyed - back when I was cold hearted - back when I was dead to the world around me, a long time ago it seems.

We talked, as we talked it came to light - not surprisingly - that they'd never done anything like this before. That they were just trying to get back to California, and they were out of money. Now these kids had been around, but not around the block. The 80s term was to "have seen the elephant" they hadn't seen the elephant. I've seen the elephant. 

As we spoke I knew I didn't want to happen to them so many of the things that could. They'd been careful - set up a separate email account, used a pre-paid cell. But they were still sitting in my apartment, alone in a strangers apartment, someone they met off craigslist, and they were there for money, which meant that I had an upper hand. 

If you don't know better, this kid Brett could pull down $600 for less than he thought he was going to get $100 for. And he didn't know better? How could he? He's innocent, and he needs the money. That makes things much worse, for him. His companion looked more the type who will end up paying for it in a few years himself, not worth a nickel to anybody. I do sound harsh, but I know.

So we talked. I explained without any detail that I'd been around. It pained me to see these youths sitting there trying to look calm. It pained me more to see that Brett had a solid resemblance to a boy I once knew who fell over the edge. A friend if you will. 

I asked them how much they needed to get home. I was given the number $600 in a somewhat dejected way. My generous $100 would have them seeing at least a few more guys, and I am quite sure that they'd have gotten themselves fucked up. It's not hard to hurt a kid. It's really quite easy. 18 makes you legally an adult. I don't give a shit, these were kids. 

I asked if they got the $600 if they would be posting any more craigslist adds. No. No more stranger's apartments? No. Good. I told them to stay - pointed when I did it - and went back and got the $600. I can't afford it, and I should be kicking myself. I should be. 

But I'm not. 

The things I have seen. The things I have done, been asked to do, been forced to do, that I have done because at some point I was just so numb... I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. I can say with utter truth, truth that you can't share unless you've had a loaded gun at your head, that I would die for my friends. I don't think I'd die for Brett, but $600 is a small price to pay at the chance of saving an kid's innocence. You can give things away, innocence, but having it taken from you...

The chance that they could have gone next to some stranger's apartment and gotten spooked, said No, and been pushed into something anyways, very likely. 

So I put an end to it. We agreed to meet again, and I emailed Brett that night and said No, because to be frank I don't trust myself to do the right thing twice.

Their being here effected me considerably. Brought back a lot of stuff I have neatly tucked away, on top of the stuff I can't tuck away no matter how hard I try. 

I knew they were safe with me because I have been unable to be with a guy in any regards in 10 years. I'm still bisexual, for sure, but there is so much pain. Too much pain. 

As to women. It's slightly different, but not really. I can be with a woman if I'm paid for it. If its business then I can do it. There's no pleasure in it, it's like flipping burgers at Friendly's. But I can do it, and do from time to time, did a lot back home, because the money was excellent and I tend to be too sick to hold a job. 

But no relationships. No touch, with anybody if there's a chance that it could be more. It has taken me the last 5 years to be able to shake hands with people without my entire body wanting to curl up into a ball. It took my father's death to be able to hug my family and the occasional friend again. 

When you want more than anything to not grow old alone, to be able to cuddle, or just sit close to someone, and yet you are terrified beyond words at the very idea of it. 

When the few people who know everything look at me its in wonder that I'm still alive, that I still function (more or less) and I have a hard time accepting that, accepting the "you're so strong" and all that. Because most nights when I lay awake like I am right now in fear of closing my eyes, I just wish it was over. 

That's why $600 is nothing. To prevent ANY of this, the chance to, is priceless.

I felt bad, Cam and Zero - two of my closer friends down here asked "Who were they" and I told them friends of friends I used to work with. It's not really a lie, because it's true.

There is a deception there, I will tell anyone I'm not gay. Because I'm not. No one here knows me well enough to know the correct question is "Are you straight". 

I had to be careful when I first moved here, careful about who knew what, and nobody knows that I know of, unless they read here. I haven't had to say to a friend "I'm Bi" in 7 years, I'm a bit out of practice and it terrifies me again that I might have to repeat the process at some point with those I care about down here.

As Promised, T100 pictures

My Dad's last bike, now mine. The top box and rear rack are my additions. After he died (back in July 07) I also changed the tank badges, and added 1" risers to the handlebars which he had wanted to do. This is now my soul (pun intended) set of wheels here in Phoenix (not including the Enfield which won't even be registered). This will be how I get to school, doctor's, groceries, and any trips I decide to take. I do believe I will be riding this bike for some time. God what a bike!

Triumph T100 and Mayo Clinic

So the T100 arrived this very morning. It's filthy and will need cleaned. Just as the truck that deposited my father's bike before me was pulling away the Fed-Ex truck with the key and title arrived to give me the greatest benefits of this glorious machine.

I will upload pictures later. I went back out and installed the rear rack and was saddened to discover the Corbin seat will not fit with it in place. As luck would have it the stock seat I had ordered arrived yesterday and I found it waiting for me in the office. That too was a quick install, and now I have the best of both worlds.

In not a long I will down my Belstaff trousers and my Barbour International jacket and make the long ride out to the Mayo Clinic for my blood work. I will bring with me a can of Pepsi - for after - and my Volume I of the Patrick O'Brian series. 

Make no mistake I have read all 20 books at least ten times apiece, but I decided to do so again in order. I began Volume I in December '08, and have since finished "Master and Commander" "Post Captain" "H.M.S. Surprise" and I am now working my way through "The Mauritius Command" which is also quite good though not one of my favorites. I am on page 1357, and the pages are thin as a bibles. What is most delightful is knowing that I have four more volumes of the series. All the same noble size as the first. It makes my heart glow - for reading about Aubrey and Marturin - it is like reading about old friends and old memories.

But now I must beg to be excused, I have to make my way to the hospital.

Before I go though, I will add a thought, an epiphany if I might say so myself. While I will copy and share posts between this blog and the old Xanga, the xanga is read by Brent - a somewhat nozy friend who likes to criticize my personal life and has even spied on it, and my Mother who all though all for my personal life being free and open - I would rather her not have an in depth look at it. 

So this blog will allow me to talk about boys and such without concern to the reader, as the stranger is as welcome to my personal thoughts as I welcome my mind. But friends and family members are outsiders to these things and must remain so.

Ok, off to the hospital.

Triumph Today!!!!

Sitting/Laying here watching The Blues Brothers, stretched out on the horrid couch. Granted I've never been high fashion, but this couch looks like it's going to crawl across the floor and attack someone - its like the wallpaper they used in the 60s and 70s. Has something to do with living in a former Hotel I think.

Here's the bike that's showing up today:

The upper picture is the seat used for touring (and dates), the lower seat is the one used for around town and grocery shopping. I can't wait - as you can clearly tell.

As I was scouting around my photobucket account I came upon a couple of long lost pictures.

This one I used to use on my very first Blog as my profile picture, that was 6 years ago. That's my kinda kid. Reminds me of me when I was that age.

Now this one is a bit more special:

That's Paul, Stevie, Kyle, and I back in 2005. Paul and Kyle were graduating that year, Stevie graduated in '03, I graduated in '02. The picture was taken in the tunnel under the main hall of Saint John's - leading to the bomb shelter - where we found cold war rations dated 1963 in perfect condition. What a crew! That used to be one of my favorite pictures. 

Only have to kill about 4 more hours before I can start expecting the bike and keys.

I also have to call the Mayo Clinic - seems today's blood work is scheduled for 9AM which I can't do. I had mixed up the appointments, the 17th is at 4pm. Damnit! So I have to move this one forward until 3:30 at the VERY earliest. I'll call them in 2 hours, that would peg me at 8AM which should be good enough.

Cory just left his apartment - lives next door - rather good looking 18 year old from Nebraska, he's in the morning classes which run 6AM - Noon. Barrett who also lives in that apartment, another hot 18 year old from Nebraska goes Noon to 6PM, and I go (when not on med leave) from 6PM till Midnight. 

My brother overnighted the key, so that will be here tomorrow at 10AM, and the bike will be here between 10-2, so I will finally have wheels again!!!! And Dad's bike, oh man, to have Dad's bike again. I can't begin to tell you what that means to me. 

Listening to Elliot Smith and contemplating food. I'm still living out of the gas station food wise which is BAD, but the grocery store is a haul from here on foot. 

I have to clean the old apartment up soon, starting to get hectic in here. Utter Clutter.

Cam came by earlier, checked his mail and such and has gone back to his apartment to tattoo himself.

Trying to slowly get back involved with www.gayteenforum.org which I was with from the start. It branched off from www.gayteenforum.net which was a home for a lot of us till the creator killed himself then things got a little crazy. I mostly post on GTFN because I have been doing so since mid 2005. But many of my friends from that site moved to GTFO so it's been hard to do the trade.

It's like blogs, I tend to be a one forum guy. Either this one or Xanga will probably fade from existence at some point. I wish I had that problem with bikes, but no.... 

In the last 5 years I've owned (just off top of my head)

2005 Ducati 620 Multistrada

1978 Yamaha XS 750 Special

1973 Triumph 750 Bonnie

2002 Royal Enfield Bullet

2004 Moto Guzzi 750 Breva

1976 Yamaha XS500C

1968 Honda Dream

1967 Norton 750 Atlas

1978 Ducati 900 GTS

2005 Triumph T100

1967 Triton (which I built)

1995 Kawasaki KZ1000P

2006 Suzuki SV650S

1973 Triumph 750 Tiger

1979 BMW R65

2003 Royal Enfield Bullet

and now I'm getting that 2005 Triumph T100 back, but still have the 2003 Royal Enfield Bullet.

The last 6 are just from July 2008

Can you say broke?

Man I am on fire today. This is my third entry today, and I wrote up a solid entry on the xanga, maybe two, I don't really remember. 

My stomach is growling something cruel, I think it is weary at being starved. I wouldn't be a bit surprised. It hasn't been getting near enough food. 

Dad's Triumph T100 arrives tomorrow which is perfect timing as I have an appointment with the Mayo Clinic in the afternoon that I was worried about missing. I'll probably have to hot wire it, that will be my luck, but we'll see what there is to do when it arrives. 

I am in pain today. My body aches and is overly run down. Some of thats food, but the rest is the same old game. It's the worst in the lower legs, and in the hands. knees hurt too. neck and shoulders. 

We'll see where this goes from here. God I'm tired. I'm going to take a nap then go find some food. I only have hundreds though, so it may be a trip to the gas station first then to the sub shop. 

Tomorrow I can go to the grocery store.

Ho Hum,

There will undoubtedly be lyrics in this one, 3 songs by a guy I very much respect by the name of Josh Ritter. I saw him live at the Avalon in Boston with my brother some months before Pop died - so early 2007. I won't post the whole songs, just the bits that I really dig. He's incredible live. 

My hair is coming back fast, it still looks like a buzz cut, but you can just feel more of it, the sad thing is that it makes the bald patches a bit more visible. That said I'm not as certain that I care at the moment.

I was good tonight, I almost spent $400 that I can't afford to spend. Oh it's so easy to do. New pipe, $250 - it's a really sweet pipe though... 

I mean common, you have to admit that's cool! It's Santa Clause, but if you lost the hat it'd be Poseidon - the God of the Sea, someone I have always looked up to - even if I don't believe he really exists.

Then $23 on a pipe reamer tool for cleaning the ash that cakes up in the bowl over time, $2 for pipe cleaners, $35 for 300g more Bombay Extra, and $60 for a stack of cigars.

Now I do need the tobacco, but not yet, and I can get it local, but it is unfairly priced local. The pipe I don't need at all, but it's so tempting, the cigars I don't need at all. 

I have to quit spending money, that's why I have about $3200 in a tin and about $30 in the bank. Can't spend it if it's not on the card. 

What I have to do is start building my body back up. 

This is the decaying form that my body has become:

That but with no hair, because I shaved it all off. So I now look somewhere between a crack addict and a cancer patient. Health wise that's not too far off, except my syndrome isn't terminal, it just hinders muscle mass, gives me a great deal of pain, the shakes, and a few other unnerving side effects.

That said I am on a gel that will allow me to rebuild myself. I never looked like that dude Shannon, who has muscles to spare, but I used to be quite strong, a stomach that wasn't so empty, ribs that weren't so visible, real shoulders, my legs and arms weren't like sticks. But that was 10 years ago. I ached less then. I wasn't as sick as I am now. 

I have to start eating right. Sleeping better - which is hard because I have terrible dreams, working out far more often. I have to get it together.

Ok fine, I'm still alive, that's good.

I made it to Phoenix, that's good too.

I kept it almost together while so many peeps I knew ended up in the ground, thats good.

But I haven't gotten stronger. I haven't built myself back up to who I was.

I have to do that. I have to build myself back up. 

Ok, lyrics:

I decided to go with the full songs and to bold the sections that hit me square in the soul. I truly think that anyone who has made it this far should find some way to listen to these three songs. 

I also strongly suggest his albums - The Animal Years, The Historical Conquests, and In The Dark - Live At Vicar Street. He is in his 20s and he is doing things with words and music that haven't been done since Bob Dylan. My Father's generation got Dylan, my generation is getting Ritter. 

 

Rumors:

Serenade me with rocks, love
No lullabies through the locks love
I locked myself in with the band
But the music's never loud enough

Decibels in the belfry
Hey what the hell if it helps me
I put a whip to the kick drum
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

My orchestra is gigantic
This thing could sink the Titanic
And the string section's screaming
Like horses in a barn burning up

He plays pianos with fistfuls
Of broken Belvedere crystal
And he's trying to forget you
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

He's impaling the front row
Fighting fires with arrows
And he'll act like he forgot you
But the music's never loud enough

So you're gonna have to show me
How that dance is done
The one where somebody leaves someone

Idaho

All that love all those mistakes 

What else can a poor man make? 

So I gave up a life of crime 

I gave it to a friend of mine 

Something else was on my mind 

The only ghost I¹m haunted by 

I hear her howling down below 

Idaho oh Idaho

Wolves oh wolves oh can¹t you see? 

Ain¹t no wolf can sing like me 

And if it could then I suppose 

He belongs in Idaho 

Packs of dogs and cigarettes 

For those who ain¹t done packing yet 

My clothes are packed and I want to go 

Idaho oh Idaho

Out at sea for seven years 

I got your letter in Tangier 

Thought that I¹d been on a boat

Til that single word you wrote 

That single word it landlocked me 

Turned the masts to cedar trees 

And the winds to gravel roads 

Idaho oh Idaho

Thin Blue Flame

I became a thin blue flame 

Polished on a mountain range 

And over hills and fields I flew 

Wrapped up in a royal blue 

I flew over Royal City last night 

A bullfighter on the horns of a new moon¹s light 

Caesar¹s ghost I saw the war-time tides 

The prince of Denmark¹s father still and quiet 

And the whole world was looking to get drowned 

Trees were a fist shaking themselves at the clouds 

I looked over curtains and it was then that I knew 

Only a full house gonna make it through

I became a thin blue wire 

That held the world above the fire 

And so it was I saw behind Heaven¹s just a thin blue line 

If God¹s up there he¹s in a cold dark room 

The heavenly host are just the cold dark moons 

He bent down and made the world in seven days 

And ever since he¹s been a¹walking away 

Mixing with nitrogen in lonely holes 

Where neither seraphim or raindrops go 

I see an old man wandering the halls alone 

Only a full house gonna make a home

I became a thin blue stream 

The smoke between asleep and dreams 

And in that clear blue undertow 

I saw Royal City far below 

Borders soft with refugees 

Streets a¹swimming with amputees 

It¹s a Bible or a bullet they put over your heart 

It¹s getting harder and harder to tell them apart 

Days are nights and the nights are long 

Beating hearts blossom into walking bombs 

And those still looking in the clear blue sky for a sign 

Get missiles from so high they might as well be divine 

Now the wolves are howling at our door 

Singing bout vengeance like it¹s the joy of the Lord 

Bringing justice to the enemies not the other way round 

They¹re guilty when killed and they¹re killed where they¹re found 

If what¹s loosed on earth will be loosed up on high 

It¹s a Hell of a Heaven we must go to when we die 

Where even Laurel begs Hardy for vengeance please 

The fat man is crying on his hands and his knees 

Back in the peacetime he caught roses on the stage 

Now he twists indecision takes bourbon for rage 

Lead pellets peppering aluminum 

Halcyon, laudanum and Opium 

Sings kiss thee hardy this poisoned cup 

His winding sheet is busy winding up 

In darkness he looks for the light that has died 

But you need faith for the same reasons that it¹s so hard to find 

And this whole thing is headed for a terrible wreck 

And like good tragedy that¹s what we expect

At night I make plans for a city laid down 

Like the hips of a girl on the spring covered ground 

Spirals and capitals like the twist of a script 

Streets named for heroes that could almost exist 

The fruit trees of Eden and the gardens that seem 

To float like the smoke from a lithium dream 

Cedar trees growing in the cool of the squares 

The young women walking in the portals of prayer 

And the future glass buildings and the past an address 

And the weddings in pollen and the wine bottomless 

And all wrongs forgotten and all vengeance made right 

The suffering verbs put to sleep in the night 

The future descending like a bright chandelier 

And the world just beginning and the guests in good cheer 

In Royal City I fell into a trance 

Oh it¹s hell to believe there ain¹t a hell of a chance

I woke beneath a clear blue sky 

The sun a shout the breeze a sigh 

My old hometown and the streets I knew 

Were wrapped up in a royal blue 

I heard my friends laughing out across the fields 

The girls in the gloaming and the birds on the wheel 

The raw smell of horses and the warm smell of hay 

Cicadas electric in the heat of the day 

A run of Three Sisters and the flush of the land 

And the lake was a diamond in the valley¹s hand 

The straight of the highway and the scattered out hearts 

They were coming together they pulling apart 

And angels everywhere were in my midst 

In the ones that I loved in the ones that I kissed 

I wondered what it was I¹d been looking for up above 

Heaven is so big there ain¹t no need to look up 

So I stopped looking for royal cities in the air 

Only a full house gonna have a prayer