Holidaze Journal Entry
Another Journal Entry. Written, Unedited. Free-write that has been picked up, put down and tossed around.
It snowed today. It is hailing now, or pelting small pieces of ice that look crystalized. However, I imagine crystals would lacerate the skin rather than bouncing off our cheeks and turning into a liquid state as these drops of hail are doing. Water is in its freezing state but Boston does not feel so cold. In fact the weather is tolerable for a walk, I would do so if I had the time today. In this weather most opt to walk on the streets, for they are paved. I still choose to slide on the side walks, for even when salted and shoveled they posses a film enough to twist the torso and flare the legs in a safe dance like boogaloo. When the street is not an option to walk on, due to traffic, a group of us pedestrians look like penguins marching in a waddled like fashion towards our next iceberg (median or sidewalk). I did get out today to go to Roche Bros this morning. In doing so I glided my way across the sleeted sidewalks, and discovered a pair of unused chopsticks, still wrapped in their red casing on the pavement. Beside it a piece of an orange peel; Not my fruit of choice to use chopsticks with, perhaps why they were abandoned.
Like the chopsticks we are quickly going to be abandoning this year, 2019. A year, for me that offered abstract views and conversations. This year offered me great literature, brilliant conversation, and travel I never thought I would have done - man, I even stood just a few feet from a wild buffalo in South Dakota and saw a Heartbreaker breakdown several songs with one amongst the Grateful Dead on the fields where Bob Dylan went electric. 2019 housed my artistic ability and growth. I had opened myself up to share poems this year, to indulge in art projects like paintings and photography, as well as open myself up to sharing journals. I have allowed others to catch a glimpse of my a mind I have always been shy or ashamed of having, for the feeling unattached from others; only to recognize we all feel that way. This piece was originally going to be a reflection of my 2019, it will be but it won't be. For I believe reflection can tend to be a bit cliche, don't you think?
Boston quickly changes from fall to holiday, as maroon ribbons on window boxes turned berry red and cornucopias modified themselves into bundles of pine needle collections or mistletoes. The snow dusted the ground, for being from outside the city in New Hampshire, dust in the only way I can describe this after being covered in blankets that we trudge in. Walking through the Boston Common I can't help but think about New York in the seventies, not that I was around, but the idea that John Lennon, his hip Yoko Ono and their son Sean, sledding in Central Park. I laughed to myself questioning if Bostonian will ever catch their musicians, like Steven Tyler on a sled full of scarves or Peter Wolf penguin sliding down Beacon Hill or Park Street. The snow in The Common offers a promotion for boot and shoe companies, like UGG and BearPaw, that leave imprints in the murky white. Some are faded over by dog stub prints that stumble, as dogs in the cities wear silicone boots of red and blue). There is a lot that Boston offers when it comes to Christmas, the wreaths on buildings, Macy's window displays, and the carolers accompanied by marching bands playing their classic asking for figgy pudding. Despite being in Boston, It seems that this year lacked Christmas for me. I missed the decorating of the house, the movies, even the music. Now here we are the night of Christmas with the season passed and nothing to show for it besides a fridge full of leftovers - meat and dessert, two food groups I do not indulge in.
But January first is coming. Writer Charles Lamb offered the idea that one has two birthdays, the day they were born and New Years Day. With this theory by the age of ten one would be twenty, however, he also suggested that one is only as old as the years allowed to themself. This means that all the years working or pleasing others do not count as years, for a fifty-six year old man may only actually by twelve; this was just a tangent, but a nice idea. January first, the day most use as Monday- a time to start fresh, start over, clean the slate. Monday, the day that does not fit, for Sunday is the calendar start of the week but one ignores that when starting a new fad, everyday life routine or goals. I feel that way about January first, it is not the true first day of the year. When setting goals, tis the season, one may aim high, might have long-term or short-term goals. Whatever goal is set it is all for the purpose of happiness, eudumonia, the purpose of life as Aristotle would argue. A friend once argued with me that peace and happiness only exists in heaven. Well, truthfully I do not know what I believe in when I die, however, that does not matter. What matter's is why should we wait until kingdom come? Why do we need to wait to be six feet under to reap the rewards? Is death all just one enticement? Perhaps, not to be insensitive, that is why this time of year is the high point of suicides- the ultimate renewal. An ideal world can exist here and now if we learn to smile at one another, hold a door open for one another, put our weapons down and replace strife with a helping hand and words of encouragement. We can make love here and now, we don’t have to wait till our earthily shell bodies are six feet under and cried upon to find peace. This isn’t directed at you, the reader, it’s directed at “we” as a collective part of this human race, something Jack Kerouac felt guilty for being part of and John Lennon claimed to be a victim of the insane -and who can blame them. An ideal world has the potential of being part of the now if we can get over ourselves and recognize that the figures around us, whether that be humans, trees, a pillbug, (Hell, James Brown) have soul.
Maybe this wasn't a reflection. This piece in fact has caused me more trouble than anything I have ever written, lack of time, patience, and bad environment. But here's to a brighter new year, saner places, saner faces, health, wealth, love and acceptance.
-L
It snowed today. It is hailing now, or pelting small pieces of ice that look crystalized. However, I imagine crystals would lacerate the skin rather than bouncing off our cheeks and turning into a liquid state as these drops of hail are doing. Water is in its freezing state but Boston does not feel so cold. In fact the weather is tolerable for a walk, I would do so if I had the time today. In this weather most opt to walk on the streets, for they are paved. I still choose to slide on the side walks, for even when salted and shoveled they posses a film enough to twist the torso and flare the legs in a safe dance like boogaloo. When the street is not an option to walk on, due to traffic, a group of us pedestrians look like penguins marching in a waddled like fashion towards our next iceberg (median or sidewalk). I did get out today to go to Roche Bros this morning. In doing so I glided my way across the sleeted sidewalks, and discovered a pair of unused chopsticks, still wrapped in their red casing on the pavement. Beside it a piece of an orange peel; Not my fruit of choice to use chopsticks with, perhaps why they were abandoned.
Like the chopsticks we are quickly going to be abandoning this year, 2019. A year, for me that offered abstract views and conversations. This year offered me great literature, brilliant conversation, and travel I never thought I would have done - man, I even stood just a few feet from a wild buffalo in South Dakota and saw a Heartbreaker breakdown several songs with one amongst the Grateful Dead on the fields where Bob Dylan went electric. 2019 housed my artistic ability and growth. I had opened myself up to share poems this year, to indulge in art projects like paintings and photography, as well as open myself up to sharing journals. I have allowed others to catch a glimpse of my a mind I have always been shy or ashamed of having, for the feeling unattached from others; only to recognize we all feel that way. This piece was originally going to be a reflection of my 2019, it will be but it won't be. For I believe reflection can tend to be a bit cliche, don't you think?
Boston quickly changes from fall to holiday, as maroon ribbons on window boxes turned berry red and cornucopias modified themselves into bundles of pine needle collections or mistletoes. The snow dusted the ground, for being from outside the city in New Hampshire, dust in the only way I can describe this after being covered in blankets that we trudge in. Walking through the Boston Common I can't help but think about New York in the seventies, not that I was around, but the idea that John Lennon, his hip Yoko Ono and their son Sean, sledding in Central Park. I laughed to myself questioning if Bostonian will ever catch their musicians, like Steven Tyler on a sled full of scarves or Peter Wolf penguin sliding down Beacon Hill or Park Street. The snow in The Common offers a promotion for boot and shoe companies, like UGG and BearPaw, that leave imprints in the murky white. Some are faded over by dog stub prints that stumble, as dogs in the cities wear silicone boots of red and blue). There is a lot that Boston offers when it comes to Christmas, the wreaths on buildings, Macy's window displays, and the carolers accompanied by marching bands playing their classic asking for figgy pudding. Despite being in Boston, It seems that this year lacked Christmas for me. I missed the decorating of the house, the movies, even the music. Now here we are the night of Christmas with the season passed and nothing to show for it besides a fridge full of leftovers - meat and dessert, two food groups I do not indulge in.
But January first is coming. Writer Charles Lamb offered the idea that one has two birthdays, the day they were born and New Years Day. With this theory by the age of ten one would be twenty, however, he also suggested that one is only as old as the years allowed to themself. This means that all the years working or pleasing others do not count as years, for a fifty-six year old man may only actually by twelve; this was just a tangent, but a nice idea. January first, the day most use as Monday- a time to start fresh, start over, clean the slate. Monday, the day that does not fit, for Sunday is the calendar start of the week but one ignores that when starting a new fad, everyday life routine or goals. I feel that way about January first, it is not the true first day of the year. When setting goals, tis the season, one may aim high, might have long-term or short-term goals. Whatever goal is set it is all for the purpose of happiness, eudumonia, the purpose of life as Aristotle would argue. A friend once argued with me that peace and happiness only exists in heaven. Well, truthfully I do not know what I believe in when I die, however, that does not matter. What matter's is why should we wait until kingdom come? Why do we need to wait to be six feet under to reap the rewards? Is death all just one enticement? Perhaps, not to be insensitive, that is why this time of year is the high point of suicides- the ultimate renewal. An ideal world can exist here and now if we learn to smile at one another, hold a door open for one another, put our weapons down and replace strife with a helping hand and words of encouragement. We can make love here and now, we don’t have to wait till our earthily shell bodies are six feet under and cried upon to find peace. This isn’t directed at you, the reader, it’s directed at “we” as a collective part of this human race, something Jack Kerouac felt guilty for being part of and John Lennon claimed to be a victim of the insane -and who can blame them. An ideal world has the potential of being part of the now if we can get over ourselves and recognize that the figures around us, whether that be humans, trees, a pillbug, (Hell, James Brown) have soul.
Maybe this wasn't a reflection. This piece in fact has caused me more trouble than anything I have ever written, lack of time, patience, and bad environment. But here's to a brighter new year, saner places, saner faces, health, wealth, love and acceptance.
-L
