November 6th, 2016

scar lover

It is in the death flow 8:04 AM Sunday morning. I got up this morning around 7 o'cock AM (which would be 8 o'clock AM yesterday's time). I do not like Time changes, because it messes up my head. I am a creature of Time. I am always aware of Time. I was born in the chains of Time. I can not see myself free from the jaws of Time. Someday Time will be no more. I will be in the Eternal State or the New Creation.

So I got up made a pot of coffee and ate four plastic waffles for breakfast. I ate my plastic waffles messing with our main computer. Now I am writing in my online diaries. Existence is speeding by. Outside this morning it is very foggy. A death mist surrounds me.

I have not read any of books or written in my paper diary yet. I still do not feel like reading my books.

Last night I do not remember. I now remember what I did last night, I watched a college football game and went to bed around 11 o'clock PM. Now it is a Sunday in the death flow. Carol called me last night from Phoenix Arizona. Carol and Beth were going to some woman event last night. I think it was connected to Beth's church this event.

Well I suppose I will close to go write in my paper diary. I might watch some professional football today. Time will keep dragging me to the grave.

I suppose I will list the books I got out of our library that I might show in a BookTube video last night-

"Hot Water Music" Stories by Charles Bukowski

"Post Office" a novel by Charles Bukowski

"Play The Piano Dunk Like A Percussion Instrument Until The Fingers Begin To Bleed A Bit" poetry by Charles Bukowski

"Factotum" a novel by Charles Bukowski

"Tales Of Ordinary Madness" stories by Charles Bukowski

"Classic Crews:A Harry Crews Reader" by Harry Crews

"The Mulching of America" a novel by Harry Crews

"A Feast Of Snakes" a novel by Harry Crews

"Scar Lover" a novel by Harry Crews
  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

dreamlessly from Burning in Water, Drowning in Flame by Charles Bukowski...



Old, grey-haired waitresses
in cafes at night
have given it up,
and as I walk down sidewalks of
light and look into windows
of nursing homes
I can see that it is no longer
with them.
I see people sitting on park benches
and I can see by the way they
sit and look
that it is gone.

I see people driving cars
and I see by the way
they drive their cars
that they neither love nor are
loved -
nor do they consider
sex. It is all forgotten
like an old movie.

I see people in department stores and
supermarkets
walking down aisles
buying things
and I can see by the way their clothing
fits them and by the way they walk
and by their faces and their eyes
that they care for nothing
and that nothing cares
for them.

I see a hundred people a day
who have given up
entirely.

If I go to the racetrack
or a sporting event
I can see thousands
that feel for nothing or
no one
and get no feeling
back.

Everywhere I see those who
crave nothing but
food, shelter, and
clothing; they concentrate
on that,
dreamlessly

I do not understand why these people do not
vanish
I do not understand why these people do not
expire
why the clouds
do not murder them
or why the dogs
do not murder them
or why the flowers and the children
do not murder them,
I do not understand.

I suppose they are murdered
yet I can’t adjust to the
fact of them
because they are so many.

Each day,
each night,
there are more of them
in the subways and
in the buildings and
in the parks

they feel no terror
at not loving
or at not
being loved

so many many many
of my fellow
creatures
  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

Sunday Morning Book Talk



Sunday Morning Book Talk

Books Mentioned in this Video-

"The Book of Isaiah and God's Kingdom: A thematic-theological approach" by Andrew T. Abernethy

"Romans 9-16" New Testament VIII Reformation Commentary On Scripture

"Hot Water Music" Stories by Charles Bukowski

"Post Office" a novel by Charles Bukowski

"Play The Piano Dunk Like A Percussion Instrument Until The Fingers Begin To Bleed A Bit" poetry by Charles Bukowski

"Factotum" a novel by Charles Bukowski

"Tales Of Ordinary Madness" stories by Charles Bukowski

DVD A Film by John Dullaghan BUKOWSKI Born Into This

a poem dreamlessly by Charles Bukowski
http://crookedfingers.livejournal.com/5479130.html

"We then who are strong ought to bear with the scruples of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, leading to edification" Romans 15:1,2
  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative

the ecstatic experience

It is in the death flow 9:10 PM Sunday night. It feels like way past Midnight right now. This time change has really messed me up! I am thinking of going to bed soon since I can think of nothing else to do this evening.

I am down in the lower level right now putting away books and looking at a book titled, "New Art City: Manhattan At Mid-Century" by Jed Perl.

I basically wandered the house and watched professional football today. Carol called me around 3 o'clock PM this afternoon while the girls were taking a nap. We talked for about forty-five minutes on the phone, which is a record for me. I usually can not find anything to talk about on the phone. I usually let the other person talk when I am on the phone. I seek to keep the telephone conversation going by asking questions.

I do not know what I will do tomorrow. It is suppose to be another sunny day tomorrow here in West Michigan. I suppose I will close to get ready to go to bed. Existence keeps speeding by.

bluejay
bluejay
  • Current Mood
    contemplative contemplative