Originally uploaded by Arc-light.


He goes to a Guru looking for love.
Then finds a man to massage his feet and wishes for healing, then a woman for the rest.
She laughed.
Not at the way he tells her funny stories.
But at his excuses, the ones that come from just needing that one more touch to make life perfect. “Your not as young as you once were.”
He is not making excuses he tells himself. “Honesty is a weapon, it can back fire, and work is the only thing that can change me, can save me.” He tells himself this.


Work for what?

The ideals, the money, anything, a private hunter of villains if he so chooses, it doesn’t matter, as long as the doing is did. I think on some level he understands that understanding is impossible. Better have tried, and maybe even come close to succeeding, but he doesn’t want to follow. He wants to make a go of it himself. Death is fast food, and life is the grey of choice, under these terms freedom is unattainable, and for all he knows, when it happens, it is just like this. This bloated stomach, salted blood, and films. “Thank god for rebirth”


How can anyone withstand the torture of endless talk about weather. The weather is not the issue here people, it’s the sadness and advertising. The smallest comfort in the world can waste time. Pride in the deeds of his fathers holds meaning to him, and that is why memory means anything.

His life is all-good, he thinks, but it is only that way when it is time to be. Say farewell to this painful temperature, and accept that help is on the way if sadness is given the same opportunity as love. All is equal.


“How do you feel about sleeping so much? Better yet, how tired are you.”

He allows himself to rest. The sweet middle, between the fight of what is keeping him awake, and total unconsciousness. He believes he’s on to something here.
Like the time, when he said “I don’t know what I want”. That is coming a hell of a long way considering. He used to think he did. But how wrong was he. He surely believes he won’t just be doing the same thing in 5 years. Because 5 years ago he thought he knew what he wanted, he even was trying in earnest for it. But to this point, this not hopeless point, more like a wasteland point. Something is important, when he doesn’t even know if he wants to kiss a beautiful woman. A party where instead of thinking, how interesting these people are, and they were. He finds not one reason to chat for work, for sex, or for information.


“Hollywood.” Never again without the proper plans, the real ticket, the light. He met two tourists, and in bed with them, one would move when he touched her, so he snuggled, and kissed her. The other was wounded, he ran away whispering, “I don’t believe when the part in our night we shared our favorite things, is any less meaningless now”. Nobody wants to be the one left alone in bed, and he should have known that. And now he thinks he won’t let it happen again. They were amazing those two. Like opposites attract.

Don’t let symbolism or lying be who you are.

The ideal is love, and that is it. So bring yourself, and that boy who was born a baby. Bring the man who hurt others and acted selfish, bring the old dying father with loss on his mind, but passion in his heart. Bring everything, so as not to get but to give.

After all is said and done, the thief is still on the loose, but he will never forget the way we danced. The whole affair is perfect, balanced, and all for love. Let it be a new day. Let the past stay away, and clean your house for guests to stay.