I woke up this morning in the jungle, in an end of the road outpost, far up on the north shore. here, the sounds of the night do not cease for the daylight, and apparently, nor do I, as like clockwork, awake at 6:30am. our shelter is ramshackle and comfortable with walls constructed primarily of open air, the ceiling corrugated fiberglass and plywood. as the sun rises and falls directly onto the patio separated from the house by nothing, natural light is in no short abundance among the tropic landscape below, above and all around us. down through the ravine there is a stream someplace close, sugar ants and geckos on the walls and a cat unable to put its tongue back in its mouth. it's an ugly bastard, but the testimony of those who know, speak only of its killing talents.
outside being inside and out, the smell of this place of one of sweet decay and rebirth. I contemplate this as I drink some thickly decadent concoction of various exotic fruits and juices which I can not name as their distinction was lost in the blender, but know that if you need an oversized avocado for breakfast, just wait for the thud on the roof.
someday when I am old I will end up here or someplace like it. it suits me well when the chaos fades just long enough for me to ripen and rot and seep into the jungle floor, but I don't think I am ready quite yet. in the meantime, I am going to load the bong and perhaps go for a hike through a rainbow.
And why would you want to leave? One could likely come up with many fine reasons to do anything else with one's time. But why stay? One could hardly come up with a single decent excuse, but there are plenty of mediorcre ones. Here: This weblog is a tool of the future. It can be 1 place in space to share ruminations, illuminations, secret snapshots, drunken hand turkeys, digitized filmstrips, found fylth, music, senseless announcements, special denouncements, empty threats, fantastic fictions, links to better places on this internet, and worthy worldly horseshit, should it exist. Only invited parties can participate. That's the way it must be for a time. Most people just aren't ready for the future.
Every one of you scags that can access this damned webpage is a certified author, so post a thing.
Exciting tadbits coming soon:
--original watercolor collage of' 'The Gourds of Uruguay', --the newest `ukulele music video by Mister Travis Warren, --songs about Jesus by monkeys, --recipes for alligator wine, --a list of reasons not to wear pants proved terribly shortsighted, --photographic documentation of Slick Johnson in his natural habitat, --an outdated traffic report from downtown Singapore.
I woke up this morning in the jungle, in an end of the road outpost, far up on the north shore. here, the sounds of the night do not cease for the daylight, and apparently, nor do I, as like clockwork, awake at 6:30am. our shelter is ramshackle and comfortable with walls constructed primarily of open air, the ceiling corrugated fiberglass and plywood. as the sun rises and falls directly onto the patio separated from the house by nothing, natural light is in no short abundance among the tropic landscape below, above and all around us. down through the ravine there is a stream someplace close, sugar ants and geckos on the walls and a cat unable to put its tongue back in its mouth. it's an ugly bastard, but the testimony of those who know, speak only of its killing talents.
ReplyDeleteoutside being inside and out, the smell of this place of one of sweet decay and rebirth. I contemplate this as I drink some thickly decadent concoction of various exotic fruits and juices which I can not name as their distinction was lost in the blender, but know that if you need an oversized avocado for breakfast, just wait for the thud on the roof.
someday when I am old I will end up here or someplace like it. it suits me well when the chaos fades just long enough for me to ripen and rot and seep into the jungle floor, but I don't think I am ready quite yet. in the meantime, I am going to load the bong and perhaps go for a hike through a rainbow.
I haven't been this jealous in a while- enjoy your hike Mr.Murphy. We missed you when you blew through Seattle or maybe that was just me.
ReplyDeleteI also missed him. Though I did receive a fantastic voice mail for my troubles.
ReplyDelete