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Friday, July 11, 2008

JOMARMA (rebirth and living)
By Sid Carol

There, Chances said to me in the morning, everyone's name is I. That's right - and Briggs and Shane came down the steps with Lotus - Lotus the baby. She is the form of life. 2 years old, going on 3. She KNOWS. Chances - Chances R Good Brother - had written a 12 page poem and laid it out on the coffee table in the room we had slept. When we slept we dreamed - and the dream never began, right? Dreams never begin: we were THERE. You're just THERE. And you dream every night. But before, or after, or in the middle of every dream, our mind shuts off, huh? They've studied this, say it lasts about 10 minutes. But since our mind is disconnected from this world when it happens time does not exist, and so the 10 minutes are INFINITE. Chances has said this also. When we slept we dreamed - and made the universe disappear. So we died. We all die every night. For 10 minutes. But who needs to analyze beauty? Us freaks down here. And the sun was shining beautifully through the glass. Briggs and Shane came downstairs and Lotus ran to me. I was on the couch. Chances had slept on the floor on the mattress from his van that he lives in and travels around the country in, living off selling shirts he makes and asking people for gas at gas stations when he's about to leave the state so they'll never see him again. Lotus was squeezing me tight. Then she hugged him. Then she left. A little baby, a flower of the future in a happy home, a new human being. New. God. It was a miracle. Shane and Briggs were her parents. They had donated their DNA to create this small wonderful human. She had a body and a brain and eyes and everything. It was a miracle of destiny and fate and all that crap thrown together n stuff. Briggs was in the kitchen talking to Amy & Amina about doing drugs and having sex as teens - well, talking to Amy, Amina was listening. Amy & Amina had been staying at Briggs & Shane's house for about a week now. It was spring break so I was off from school and I was staying at their house all week, but the weekend was coming, it was a Friday, it had been a long time for all of us in this house. "Yeah, one night," said Briggs laughing, "we were all at the show and... somehow we ended up in Robbie's bedroom - and well.." and Amina was 13 years old/Briggs was 42/Amy was 38 and so Amina was like, "what are you talking about?" and Briggs was like, "uhh..." and Amina was like, "drugs & sex. Mom, did you have drugs and sex as a teen?" and you can predict the casual response from that. Briggs and me laughed. I was Siddhartha Carol I am Siddhartha Carol I am that I am I was I am 12 years old. This was only this morning. About 9:00. Lotus walked into the kitchen. The grey cat was following her. As soon as that grey cat saw me, ti ran the hell away. All cats are terrified of me. When I was 6 I exploded a kitten I stole from the crazy religious lady who lived down the road from my mom's house and painted her trees white and screamed and/or laughed all day about the neighbors being Alkida and took the remains of the dead kitten into the road. When my father, who lived there at the time, arrived home from work, I told him that a car had run over the kitty but it was really a gruesome murder! And so word got around in the Felis Catus kingdom and now all cats run away from we - well, I can't blame them. "Dammit," I told Amima who was 13 if you remember, "all cats run away from me because when I was 6 I blahblahblah and dogs, too!" I walked outside. I. His name was I. Shane and Chances were sitting smoking on the front porch. Lotus followed me out to the front porch. Amina came out and watched her and I walked inside and put a bagel in the toaster. Walked outside Shane was playing guitar and singing one of his beautiful songs he writes when he wants to - he's quieter than the rest of us - he's 29 going on 30, Briggs & Shane love each other so much, well, here I go again subconsciously. Chances said to me as he blew smoke out of his mouth, "I was born in a log cabin that I built with my own bare hands." Amy came out and laughed. What? Huh? The fastness just can't stop! Ha ha! This is like a ride! Woo hoo! Briggs came outside and smoked a cigarette. Shane kept playing and singing. Something about thyme being the remedy of doves he's told but don't you know that he's blow mold? Or was it on hold? Well, yes, sometimes his lyrics didn't make much sense... Briggs started singing along. I walked back to the toaster. The bagel wasn't done. Still sitting there. Walked back outside, back in. It wasn't done. I reset the toaster. Walked out back and threw a ball at the suspended hoop. Missed. Came back in. The bagel was black. I took it anyway, walked outside to the porch and tried to eat it. Threw it in the grass. The ants would love it. Everybody is sittin on the porch, right? Briggs and Shane's porch is, like, just the best place to be. We all sat there looking into the sun playing music and talking and sharing serious love for one another. Glare. Glares. And I was horribly sick. The beauty of the morning was unbearable. Shane was singing and Briggs was singing and Chances and Amy and Amina and me were sitting on the steps listening and enjoying life, talking about shit n gazing into the sky. The sky was unbelievable. At one point you could stand in the front yard, look straight ahead, and FEEL the sun shinin down from the right thru your ears and jumping out into the high sky out of the left. We just couldn't reach that wondrous amazing sky. It was almost depressing. It was! I told Chances how clostrophobic I became when I realized that EVERYTHING HAS A NAME. He agreed with my feelings. But really everything is nothing is everything is nothing is everything is nothing is everything. And nothing isn't nothing. And you are God. I get tired a this shit sometimes, but when you thing about it, it's true, just like how you are it and it is everything and that means you are everything and everything begins with nothing so it is nothing and you are nothing and nothing is something and somethingness is everythingness and so it remains everything AND YOU ARE IT AND IT IS EVERYTHING. Chances and I got in his van, his house, and drove out of Fulton Hill and into the Fan. Chances was going to give some poetry to the idiots at Common Groundz coffee shop for consideration. I think I was going to too, but I was still horribly sick. Once we got into a dirty River City alley, I had to ask Chances to pull over. I walked into a deserted junkyard. You could just feel the goddamn ghosts in that place. I vomited hard all over that yard. Common Groundz was right around the corner so Chances parked his car and we walked up there. My vomit had been red, almost fire-like, and beautiful. The flower of life dominated the average person's perception of the middle of the perfect glob of junkyardthrowup. It was perfect, but once documented it was dead. Just like how now I've written it down: it's DEAD. Just like once you say a word you've killed it. It was about 11:30 AM. Me and Chances walked around to the place. Reading poetry at 11:30 AM. What an altopissticating concept. Everybody was hangin out. Drinkin coffee, smoking outside, the bus stop was that habitat for the bums and alienated regulars and drinkers, the wind was ablowin hard and chilly and you could see those homeless guys smile through all the beautiful hard in-their/your-face God-will. We looked out the window again. Chances went in. I just stood there. You could see the place was full of pros. You know, poetry phds and shit, judges, attempters of reorganizing what's fallen perfectly into place. I walked to the trashcan circle in the alley of God and puked one more time. My skin was yellow and my dick was bloated. I ran and ran and thru the alley, leaving Chances at the coffee shop. I finally found a huge green metal box-trashcan, jumped into it, ate the first piece of food I found and pissed and I could see that my pee was blue. That meant that I had drank way too much water. It would have been a nice way to go but that bastard will of God Destiny was fuckin' with me again. I chilled out in the trash until the box rumbled. I got out of it. The truck was picking it up. My name was I. My name is I. I ran back to the junkyard, viewed the eternal circle once more the braved my way into the land of the bad slam poets. They hung out there on spring break Friday mornings why I dunno. Giving these people poems for consideration - it made me want to donate my being to a soulless wonder for a day or two. But all I did was fart and trip over a nonexistent zombie's mouse spirit crawling through the dead air. My face was bleeding. 12 years old and already rebirth is contemplating me. Somebody asked me my name. A college girl. "Siddhartha," I responded. "Well, my name's Jenny," she said. "There are better things to do than talk about names," I said. "Let's talk about our relationship. Now I've known you, Jenny, for... I'd say about 10 seconds. Every ounce of time that goes by, the amount of time we've known each other grows bigger. I don't even know you and I love you. I don't even know you and I hate you. I don't even know you and I'm 12 and you're probably 20 and I want to have sex with you. I don't even know you and I want to kill you. Love hates time-well, time sure does fuck up the moment, but the moment is born of time, time's the creator, we are time, but we wouldn't exist without love, so love must be another creator. Love provides also. We don't need love to KEEP living, we just need it to be born. But we like it, we're consumers of love. And time sets the mood and moment of for love and then if love creates then time decides when love can make that vision a reality. So like a baby being born, me or you, the sperm making it on TIME is the result of love and time's decision is 9 months. Love and time don't have side comments when workin together, right? & they are workin together right now, deciding the fate of you and I, Jenny. So why don't I love you? Cos I don't have the time." "What time is it?" she asked me. "About 11:40," I said. "You don't look too hot," she said. "Yeah," I said, "my piss is blue, I'm coughin' like a dog, vomiting everywhere, my eyes keep falling out of my head, but I'm beautiful, you're beautiful, everyone is beautiful and life is beautiful and I feel great to be alive." Jenny got her purse, put on a scarf and walked out of the coffee shop. Smart woman. She must have known that God put us here to experience, not to analyze. We're not supposed to know everything. Study everything. Shit! What was that shit about time and love? I had once again tested people's sense. Soon she was gone. Destiny once again. Destiny is everything. All that happens is destiny. I mean, everything I say makes no sense at all to most of the world. English only makes sense to English speaking people. Masturbation only makes sense to masturbators. I only make sense to myself, and that's on rare occasions, like never. Because never happens, every once in a while and when it does I think that's when everything seems to make perfect sense. The whole universe. When never happens, it makes sense! We're all there for never when it happens, and when does it happen? Never. I think that's why nothing ever makes sense. Oops, I did it again. EXPERIENCE, don't analyze! Dammit! Me and Chances walked upstairs to the studio. The poems were downstairs being read by the pros. Well, they were probably just sitting there being ignored. Rasul was recording in the studio with nobody. Rasul was a black poet who'd traveled the world kicking people's asses in rap battles. But he was so much more complicatedly simple that that. Or maybe simply complicated. Whichever, we all loved Rasul. It was cool up there in the studio. "So are they readin' your stuff?" he asked us. Yeah, we answered. Rasul grabbed Chances around the neck and smashed his head into the window, breaking the glass. I punched Rasul in the face and he stumbled back into the wall. Rasul ran up to me and nearly knocked me out. We crashed into the shelves. Everything in the room smashed and crashed onto the ground. Then Rasul started punching Chances again. Chances began laughing hysterically. I didn't even know what to do. I got up, lifted Rasul up. He knocked me down and jumped me into the sound wall and more shit came crashing down on us. Chances kicked Rasul off of me and they engaged in brutal combat rolling across the heaps of fallen crashing broken stuff. Rasul broke free and ran over to my side where I was still lying down in pain and smashed open another window, threw Chances at me, ran and threw us bout out of it. We landed in the middle of the street. I landed on my head. "You know what?" said Chances, "I still love Rasul." "Me too," I said. But a 36 wheeler was about to kill us. We got up and ran to the junkyard. My eternal art was still lying there, pretty as a peacock on a Saturday night! "Look, Chances," I said, "that's my vomit!" "Beautiful," he said, smiling. "Can you see the flower of life in there?" I asked. "Yeah," he said, "beautiful." I stood there quite proud of my artwork. Then God's will got funny and out of spontaneity I went to the trashcans and created another masterpiece. This one was GREEN, and even BIGGER! "Check it out!" I said to Chances. "NIIIICCCE!" Life's god's design was everywhere. But sacred geometry is a ploy for sex. And Chances and I got into the van & started heading back to Briggs and Shane's house. My veins were desperately trying to just crawl out of my arms my heart was pumping blood so fast it was overfilling the blue lines & now they were red and shooting out everywhere in the car. It was great. We drove past the running track. Soon we were back at the place. We got out and walked in. "What happened?" asked Briggs and we told her about Rasul and she laughed. Then we walked out to the front porch. That spot was still just as beautiful. And Lotus was on the swing with Shane pushing her and Amy & Amina were just sitting on the porch seeming to just enjoy the wonderful day. I picked up a sunflower. "Look," I said to Chances, "you can find the design anywhere." "Yeah," he said, "break it open." I opened up the stem and ripped off the roots inside. There were a thousand tiny little white seeds resting in there. Chances took one out. "And you know what's inside here?" he asked. "The flower of life?" I asked. "Absolutely nothing," he said, "and from that, the entire universe was born." I took one of the seeds. They were clear. You could see right through them. I opened it anyway. Nothing. He was right. Life was good when God was great. Shane came outside and smoked some cigarettes. It was his favorite pastime. Good ol Shane, appeared in Style Weekly a year ago, living in Fulton Hill with his beautiful family, always warm and welcoming to guests. He sat down with his big black guitar and played more of his tunes for us. After about 3 songs, he stopped and I said to him: "Shane, your songs are great, but why does a goddamn SPARROW always have to find it's way into your lyrics?" He just looked at me. "Huh?" And I said, "Every one of your songs, you sing the word 'SPARROW' at least ONCE! What's the deal, man?"... "Time's the enemy of love I'm told but don't you know that I've grown old..." Shane really did good songs - Shane Sayers-Couzyn. And tonite he was gonna play a show at Chances's father Happpy's painting studio, NQB8 (INCUBATE.) Happpy was a happy guy who lived in River City too and liked my stories and poems a lot and was vegan. And believed the future was vegan. It was going to be cool. But it was only noon. Briggs came outside and said, "Alright, I need some peace & quiet so I can paint the porch. You kids need to go down to the playground." So we all walked down there. But about halfway down I felt the worse feeling in the world. I dropped in the middle of the street. Insecure God! I am God! Everything that happens is supposed to happen! Let's focus on the positive: Siddhartha Carol is dead. And then you take a deep breath and contemplate the universe. And then I take a deep breath and contemplate the universe. And even though I knew that I was dead, lying there in the airful abyss, repeatedly getting blood squeezed & shot miles out of me by automobiles, I could see the light and I could save myself. I could live again-if not in this body then in another body but SAVED! And you know who was there when I awoke in that dark, dark chamber of forgiveness? The soulless wonder. And the soulless wonder's spirit was visible.. And this guy started playing middle eastern music on a steel string acoustic guitar... but it sounded like a sitar... and the music was just unbelievably brilliant... and the darkness of the dark just got brighter and brighter until darkness and light had no difference... and the bongos from nowhere were screaming... tuned like a tabla... and the guitar... sitar... was vibrating my brain... and I started to fall asleep... and I did fall asleep... and I am asleep right now... suspended in air... surrounded by two gods of preoccupation: darkness & light, and a sound that seemed to have a will of its own in a chamber of forgiveness... self forgiveness... for insecurity. But note of that was real. No one was playing any music, but I could hear it. Shit, it was sweet. Maybe this was what it felt to get high! And I'm only 12 years old! And I realized that everybody was playing in the playground behind me. There was no use to refer to Sid Carol as "I" anymore. He was in the moment, not giving two and a half shits about his literary state. He was sitting on top of the huge hill looking out at the city. Chances R Good Brother was banging on a bongo. Sid could feel the whole earth around him. He'd never felt this way before. Everything the rivers miles away the canyons & forests so far away and it was all right there staring Sid down. Sid was out of his body. That's why Sid Carol could only observe Sid Carol, sitting there on the hill, in an unbelievable majestic trance gazing into the unknown known and the unknown, the river, the city, all that shit was so close to him because perception is the only accurate form of measurement. And Sid watched Sid hold his arm out to his perception of the river 5 miles away and jump over the city, over the bridge and shatter into it with half of one step. You might be wondering what happened to I. At times like this I doesn't exist, I is remote, I is no longer in its former memory, you are not I, you are not you, you are not God, you are yourself observing the former body of I, you aren't even Siddhartha Carol anymore, you're nothing, and nothing is something, and something is everything, and you are everything, everything, you are it, it is everything. If you realize yourself then you know that you are not Sid Carol, you are not I, you are not you, you are not God at the moment, but everything, no one single thing, everything, a channeler of yourself - everything. Anybody buying this shit? Suddenly Sid was I again and I was me again & I was I again and blahBlahblahBlah. Because the kids were calling my name. "SID! SID! TIME TO GO!" We walked back to the house. Wow, that was amazing. As we walked up the street towards Briggs and Shane's house, a black cat walked up to the group of us. It went up to Amina and licked her. Then it went up to Chances and licked him. Then to Brigg's kids Axis and Pippin and licked them. Then it looked at me from up there and ran away lightning fast. "Wow," said Amina, "you weren't kidding." Soon we were back in. Shane was playing guitar. Daniel, a drummer, had brought his drums in to play around with Shane and his songs. Desperately trying to make things work they just couldn't rock out and it wasn't happening. Every time Shane started doing something that sounded good he stopped. It wasn't happening. But it nonetheless sounded beautiful. Shane got up & walked to the kitchen and asked me: "Whoa, why are you guys back already?" I said, "I don't know, Shane, I was having a double out-of-body experience." "Whaddya mean?" "I mean I wasn't Sid Carol, I was sitting on the hill... or something... I, like, fell down... and all of a sudden I was in darkness and light at the same time... uh... &... uh... darn, man, well... I was looking at myself sitting on top of the hill gazing out at the world, but I wasn't ME... but I was me, but I wasn't... and looking out at myself... and there was thins strange music…..." Shane gulped down a glass of water and left the room. I walked outside. Chances was sitting out there on the front porch once again playing middle eastern music. Amy and Amina were out there too, "Man," said Chances, "you were IN THE ZONE out there!" Daniel left but he left his drumset at the house. Oh boy. Chances go on the keyboard and hooked it up to the amp. I got on the drums a hip hop beat jamming. Chances soon discovered that the electronic keyboard had a VOICE-MAKING setting! You hit the keys and it would go bodedadodabeboo. Whoa! "Play some drums to that, Sid!" well, we had a beat goin I think. But it wasn't really me. Chances was getting pretty funky on that voice maker bobedybopadoodad ebobabopd adodedabeboooo bopdabob odadedadumda-da-DA be dodadada doduduh bepop owbowbowbed doodad edodumba dowdumbedoopbe bo bum dum da-DOW d adedadadadedade-e-dumbu-bu-budow! Dumduh dadoodade edoopbabow! And Amina sat down on the couch and started listenin! Dabadoodad edumdabumm ubabowbbeeeebbobedumbadadadadadadadadoodoopbadumadumdudumdumdumdum-dum-dumbedoopdabadoo ooda daded umbeboopbabada-DOWbop beepbobababeepdobaba bumbadeepboobumbadeepboobeepbobabeepdobaba bumbadeepboobumbadeepboobbepd umbum! A three friend jam/dance/sing along! Bummadowdadumdeedo dadaDuMDUM ddeee doodad dadadadudmdudmdudmdud dmmuba bababowbow bowbeepb ababubaabbab abumhumdedumdedodedodumdeddumdeebabowbebumdedumbedu mdebumbad oopbabboowbowd epdodaddeadpan umdumdepadeededumdumapadedumbeda-BOW! Dum de da-da-da-da-da-da DOW!doodedoodadadadoodeedoshutthtefuckupdoodeedaddadumdedededededededededeeeeeeeuuuuummmm!!!!!dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadadaddddeeeeeedumdumumudududududdudududududdudududududududududududududududududududududumdeeedeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedumdadeedumdeaddadadadadbeeboopbabadowdumdeepdoDADAdeepdoDADAsavannahbedbudaudumbedadeedeedumbeadeedumdedumdeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedumbadowbadudmdumpdumdumdumdumbebumbebumbadumdadaumdadumdadumbeboopbabeeboobowbaddumdedoodadeybawbeeppékookalaybabumbabumbabumbabumdeeeeeeeediedadiedieDEEEEba-ba-ba-ba-BOW! BEEPBOOBIESDUMDEEDADADUMDEDADADADADADADADYOUHATEMEALALALALAdumbeepdadum-dum-DOW!and then Briggs ran into the room and said SHUT UP! Chances and me stopped playing. Bummer. I t was about 2:00 P.m. and everyone has more than one spirit in their body at sometime. Amina came in. Amina was beautiful. Lotus walked up to her & said, "FeverMcPossum." Lotus was beautiful. Possum isGod. Everyone's a possum. Briggs came back into the room and said, "God is infinite because God is everyone." Briggs was beautiful. Shane walked by and they kissed. Shane was beautiful. Everyone was sitting there in that room with the drumset, watching the 2athern kiss. It was very silent. Everybody was beautfiful. Amy came by the room and sat down next to Amina. It was all very quiet. And Briggs and Shane were still kissing. They must really love each other or just the taste of each other's tongues. What's the difference? asks a member of the crowd. Sorry, but all questions must be submitted in writing. We all sat in that room, ALL OF US, just watching the 2athem goin at it. Then I saw a black sparrow flying around in the background. A very, VERY small black sparrow. And when you saw it it gave you the feeling you couldn't move, you couldn't breathe, you were trapped there, I couldn't speak, & Briggs & Shane just kept on kissing, & I just sat there, staring at that small black bird that seemed to be coming closer and closer to me but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it - it was like I was chained to a char paralyzed with fear and a huge monster was impending descending upon me... I tried desperately to speak and it was very hard but finally I got to saying something. "Chances, you see that little thing?" and I hear this faint "yeah" of approval and amazement. I couldn't see him, but I could tell he was in the same shocked indescribable state I was. Holy mother of God holy lord holy christ this is the signal of the DEEPEST & TRUEST LOVE! This is love coming at us all inexperienced, me & Amina, those experienced but not yet fully aware of its full potential yet, Amy & Chances, those expressing it, Briggs & Shane, & then the one source of it all which ironically was unaware of itself. But it wasn't that ironic when you thinked about it because: that's just us-babies being born-unaware of life - unanalytical -the way all should live - without an education - without feeding into those things - that give us now inevitable urges - and becoming - like others - it was NICE. Then they stopped kissing and Shane walked out to the front porch to smoke. And we all just sorta sat there and waited for destiny to impose another fucking miracle. So Amy stood up and said, "Alright, Briggs wants to paint alone, Shane's going out, Chances is gonna take a nap, and me and Amina are going out for a while, so who wants to come with me? Sid, I think you should come." In the car I was like, "Where are we going?" and Amy said, as she drove badly, "We're going to a restaurant to see an old buddy I haven't seen in 6 years that works there." "Yeah," said Amina, "some guy I don't even know." "Oh, you'll like him." "But mom.." and blahblahblahthey had their own talk going now. So we were out of Fulton Hill and coming into Shockhoe Bottom. Now we were in the dirty alleys. They parked the car. "Now, do you want to come in, or do you want to stay in the car and wait for us?" she asked. "How long'll you be gone?" I asked. "About one hour." "ONE HOUR?" "No. Heh heh. This guy is working, so we can't see him for long. It'll be about 15 minutes." They left a window open for me, got out, walked a block up, turned the corner, and were out of my sight. The clouds were getting darker and purpler and it looked like storms soon. I climbed out of that open window and looked at where they'd left me. It was an alley next to a tall, tall, tall metal humongous train bridge. If I looked to my right, there was a hill going up to infinity, and if I looked to my left, you could see the corner turnaround that led to the water. And I was just standing there, against that red car alone in that big alley, in the big River City. Suddenly the most unbearable of unbearable feeling of loneliness descended upon me. I felt alone in the world. It was going to rain, and I had been with my friends for a whole school-less week and it was great and now suddenly I was remembering that usual feeling of being away from joy and alone. The cars drove by but the people didn't even wave. Unhappy faces walked through the far away street from here. Alone. It was unbearable. I walked across the street and kicked the huge closed down building in front of me. Then I walked back to the car. Alone. And the whole time, I couldn't stop singing Shane's song and humming the melody: "time's the enemy of love I'm told but don't you know that I've grown old." and I climbed on top of the car, sat up and gazed into the right side of the street from the alley view and sang that until tears were rolling down my cheeks like boiling water through a holey soul. I hadn't been sad for like, 5 days. I knew Amy and Amina were coming back soon, but the 15 minutes seemed to turn into 30 minutes and longer and there was no escaping this horrifyingly depressing lonely alley they'd left me. Come back, come back! Wahwaha! Wah! I looked behind me. The train was coming. I slowly climbed off the car and walked toward the huge metal poles in the ground holding it up. I climbed on top of the bottom pole. Then I crawled all the way up to where I could touch the bottom of the rattling bridge. What now, I thought. What now. This is God. This is destiny. Abandoned in a dark lonely street on top of a shaky shaky train rattling metal pole so high up unbelievable. That was when you felt true love for people. You only want what you can't have. This was sad. I could feel oil dripping into my Chances shirts and into my skin and poisoning me as I didn't move, just stayed there perched on the metal looking out at the fading sun and the glistening clouds. Now it was raining. Not hard, just a drizzle. But it was all shade. It wasn't dark, but there was no sunshine. I was going to jump off of this bridge holder. Here we go. Bang. Not dead. God again. Fate. Destiny. And I love life more than life itself. This was a beautiful loneliness, a beautiful curse. And I climbed back into the car and sulked deadly killers crawled around inside my body like an overused submachine gun at overtime when the bosses are fat and greasy and slobby and no factotum employees and everyone makes sense and everything that you don't have in your possession seems great because you're ALONE in that car in that alley waiting for your friends to come back from some restaurant talking to some man they haven't seen in 6 goddamn years. Oh, I'm just a whiner. Here they come! Never had I been so happy to see two girls coming out of a fast food factory in Shockhoe Bottom. They walked toward the car. "God, I felt so lonely," I said. We drove to the Blockbuster and Ellwood Thompson square. "What do you want to eat?" she kept asking me. "All I want is some Tings," I kept saying. That food store seemed like a remembrance of horrifyingly true things past. Let's get our asses outta here, I kept thinking! Finally she obliged and got the bag of Tings and we left. Then we put the stuff into the car and walked into the Blockbuster. Peter was standing out there, holding a sign that said FUCK POLITICS. Peter was a 13 year old kid that went to my school. A recently transformed gangsta. It wasn't good. A while back, me and Peter had April Fooled my mom good by doing a drive thru killing: Peter sat in the truck with a big black pistol and his teenage brother drove it. I stood on my front porch with a blood suit on. I yelled for my mom, then they got to me, opened the window, Peter pointed the thing at me, shook it while his bro smashed smashed smashed the glove compartment door and I shook and and screamed and fell down. Good times. We were both about 9. Actually, I think we ended up sleeping in the forest that night. "Hey, Peter!" I said and held out my hand for a hi5. But he just stood there with a grim look on his face. "Geez Pete, you don't look so good." Then he said, looking into the vast clouds above, "Life is a bust. We're all going to experience death and what's the point of living then? Sid, can you think of any way out of that?" "Nope. We all gotta go someday, kid." Then it was quiet. Amy & Amina walked into the store. I just stood out there with Peter. We gazed out into the darkening sky. It looked like rain. It was a very profound experience. All knowing and space and time seemed to pass between us at that silent ponderous moment... and we seemed to not mind, to not care. It was the time of God. And everything was still. Time, our surroundings, only the one true moment, the present moment, really mattered. And then he farted and I went inside the video store. Amy & Amina were in the drama section, trying to decide which shit to watch. "We should all get Planes Trains & Automobiles," I said. "What's that?" "It's only oneatha funniest movies from 1987 evah! I bet it's here!" And we all ran to the comedy section. And there it was. Steve Martin and John Candy. Just looking at the cover made we want to crack up laughing. But instead I vomited into my backpack. All my stories... all my papers... ruined... Oh well. "Do you want to get this movie?" But then I started to feel really insecure and I just felt shy about my sense and said something like yin/yang yes/no day/night white/black and Amy got a little irritated and said, "Well fine then! Let's just not get a movie!" And we drove back to the house. They went in. Briggs was painting the porch. She was behind the chairs now. Amina came outside. I sat in Lotus's stroller and started rocking back and forth. "Hey," said Amina, "don't go so close to the edgeatha porch! I'd be so sad if you cracked your head open in the garden there under the sun!" "It'd be a nice place to die," I said, moving the stroller closer to the edge. Briggs got up, fished around in her pocket, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "Briggs, you know what?" I said, "it bothers me more when you smoke -" and then it happened the stroller fell and I bashed my head and body into the cement and a raging tratum of hausophilassopying pain shook through me like a rocket. But I jumped right back up to save the day! Everybody was rushing toward the I like it had been hurt. Then I said to Briggs, "it bothers me more when you smoke than when Shane smokes." "Why?" she asked. "Because," I said, "you're 13 years older than him! I love you, Briggs, don't you enjoy LIVING out here, on the porch every day with these beautiful people? You're killing yourself with all these stupid cigarettes! YOU ARE GOD!" "I promise that by the end of this year I'll have quit." "Promise?" "I promise." That was a solemn swear. Almost as solemn, I thought, as one my father made five years ago about never again hitting my mother. Life was sad sometimes. But life was pretty damn unbelievable as well. Just look at Lotus. Man, Briggs, and Shane, they donated their fuckin DNA to create HER: this small HUMAN BEING, with all these unbelievable features inside of her! Lungs and livers and hearts and blood cells, all this stuff nobody knows about, and it's just amazing. I mean, isn't that amazing? All you need is a penis and a vagina to create a whole nother world! It's incredible! Life was and is the bomb. Life is great, and I will never leave it. I am. I am that I am. I am. Immortal. I am. Here now. The source. Here now. Here now. Here now. I am I am I am Chances came outside and sat down with the guitar. He was smoking a cigarette too. That was one of the saddest things I've ever seen, he's such a young, beautiful person, this fucking tobacco is getting EVERYBODY! I know it'll get me someday too. But life still rocks. And life has to have its bad parts. Because everything was meant to be. Destiny. So be happy. Be happpy. Be happppy. And also be sad. Because destiny don't exist without sad. Be sad. Be sadd. Be saddd. Be sadddd. And live life to the fullest. And before you know it we were at NQB8 with Happpy. Happpy the painter - Chances's father, also the father of more kids, but the only one I can think of is Amazing Grace, Chances's sister who I met at a bad slam at Common Groundz who was apparently possessed by 3 different spirits at one time. Shane was about to go up to the stage. About 15 people were watching. Shane got up there. Briggs walked up with him. Briggs had a beautiful singing voice and sometimes she would just mute Shane out when they sang together. Shane started singing one of his old songs. They were both singing there. And Amina came up to me & said, "Well, they got me again." "What?" I asked." "The feelings," she said. "I can't stand this place. The art here is just SICKENING! You know how you felt when we left you in that alley in Shockhoe Bottom alone today? Well, that's how I feel now, alone and sick." "But you're not alone here," I said. "Well, maybe you are actually. In intellect or companionship?" But then I realized I did not want to know the answer to that question so I ran away as fast as I could upstairs and into the huge, quiet painting gallery. There was a giant painting of a big scary skull on the wall. It was HUGE. I walked on thru the vast empty room. All this shit was on the walls - all this stuff Happpy had painted. Some of it was pretty awesome. Depressed clowns, children at the beach, naked women, animals, cities, worlds, philosophies, nature, murals, the smell of dry and wet major artist equipment was trying to kill me I'm sure but the horrible deathly forces in my sacred duplicate body were dominant and you couldn't really notice anything, could you? Huh? What? Where? Who? Huh? Tell the truth now. Over the fields... atop it: falls and floors of shit stained gold and mold of anthrax. Beauty in its most blatant form. Oblivious of everything-the dull writers, the graduates, itself, artificial beauty. Riverrun. Back past the beauty, the pure blatant one, the blackened spit on treasure, floors and fails :it atop and ocean deepest the of bottom the at me for waits love My. textbook German your into... fields the Over. nurrevir. .dnatsrednu t'nod uoy tuB Chances had all his shirts laid out on a table. $12.00 each. I stole one & put it in my backpack. It was still very quiet. Then Happpy came in from downstairs. "Hey," I said. "Hi, Sid, hi." (nicest guy, man.) "What's goin on?" I asked. "Well," he said, "Shane & Briggs just stopped playing. Next up is some negative guy singing about how we're destroying the plant." "Oh," I said. Happpy asked, "What are your dreams like?" "Well," I said, "your son Chances told me a few days about this writer he knew, Jasper Richards. Did you know him? No? Well anyway, he told me that Jasper was the greatest American writer you'd ever know, but he was penniless - a heroin addict, & a tramp. But he was the nicest guy. I can't believe Chances didn't tell you about him. This was a true story. Anyway, he said that the way he wrote was first he'd shoot heroin, not out for a few minutes, then wake up, go do pushups like a madman so he'd be sore and not feel the heroin affects, then go to the typewriter and just start TYPING and TYPE and it was just beautiful stuff. And he lived off everyone else because EVERYONE fell in love with Jasper - ANY BODY would take him in. And your son was really good friends with this guy. And during the time they knew each other, Jasper wrote five novels, FIVE DIFFERENT NOVELS! Three hundred page books! And Chances read everything he gave him. But then Jasper got caught stealing in Colorado. Some time in early 2004, I think. Anyway, they were goin to jail him, but somehow he got let off because there were so many people who knew him so well, the spoke out for him, and he got this real nice deal too: they sent him to a halfway home for him to stay in for, like, 3 months. All he had to do was stay sober for 3 MONTHS, & he blew it. He went to town, got some heroin, shot it one night. No one knew. And after taking it he suddenly learned that he had to take a piss test in the afternoon. So in a hasty effort to clear his system, Jasper drank gallons and gallons of water until suddenly his heart exploded. He had drowned himself with too much water. It was June 2004. Tragic tale. They must've found him dead that night or the next day. And Chances says I would've really liked the guy. He told me also that he used to have the first 50 pages of one of Jasper's novels when he was in Taus, New Mexico, but le lost it, and has no idea what happened to it. So now there is no way that I know of for me to read anything that he wrote. Anyway, last night I had a dream that we had access to everything he wrote and he became the biggest influence on my writing ever." Happpy just looked at me and then asked, "So this Jasper was a REAL person? That my son knew?" "Yes," I said. "I didn't know him tho." Then Happpy asked, "So your dream was that you had all his writings?" "Yeah, had," I said, "and that was just one dream. Based upon something that really happened. We all have dreams every night, even if we don't remember them. But we also make the universe disappear. For 8 to 10 minutes. So I also die every night. So do you, Happpy. We all do." Then I walked downstairs. Sure enough, some guy was singing about the end of the world. Chances was at the end of the drawing table, drawing variations of the flower of life. Briggs came up to me: "Lotus went upstairs with me and saw that new huge skull head on the wall. Now she won't go any further. She wants all of her friends to go up there with her and help her face her fears. So come on, Buddy." Soon Shane, Chances, Amy, Happpy & Amina were with us too. Briggs was holding Lotus. "Are you ready?" she asked her. "Yeh," said Lotus, looking freaked out. But then Lotus changed her mind and Briggs gave her to Shane, her papa, and they all went back to what they were doing. "Aw, Lotus, we were all there, ready to go through it with ya!" I said. She just rested her head upon her father's shoulder. They were two homasepialphortron alkiemeeadorphon wonders. I loved them. "It was a good show," I told Shane. "Thanks," he said. "I would have liked it even more if I had seen it," I said. Then Lotus said, "Wait, I DO wanna go up dayoe!" HOORAY! And here came Chances and Amy and Amina and Briggs and Happpy. We all slowly crept up the stairs. Lotus's eyes shrank. We slowly bobbed up those steps... suddenly THE SKULL WAS IN VIEW AND LOTUS WASN'T SCARED ANYMORE! We were up there, standing right in front of the huge painted skull with Lotus and shouted, "I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU! Go ahead and say it Lotus! I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!" And Lotus was laughing now. "HOORAY!" we all said. "You faced your fears, Lotus!" said Amina. And that was certainly as true as a pecan pie flyin' thru the air on a hickory smoked Sunday in a alien UFO in orbit on a Friday night at a drunken cattle slaughter party in Iceland on a Saturday night! Some more stuff happened. Soon Lotus was sleepy and we had to go. I gave Happpy two of my story books. "Keep up the good work," he said. "You really are somebody." "Thank you," I said as we walked out into the darkness of bums and smokers towards the cars. Soon we were home. At Briggs n' Shane's house, that is. It was very dark outside. Chances and Shane went out there on the front porch & brought out the cigarettes. I sat in the middle of them. I was the worse secondhand smoker I knew. They talked about philosophy & shit. And that was the day. Not too boring, not too interesting to you, but revolutionary to me. And they walked inside to sleep and left me on the porch. Amy & Amina were crashed out in the living room. And I looked thru the window of that calm sullen soulful house and everyone was dead. Soon the I would be disconnected as well with the other I's. In the meantime he walked out into the street, named like everyone else, aware that the end of the world was to come again soon this hour just as every night before in the life of that I, who am that I am, walking further and further down the blocks and into that playground where he'd lost himself earlier today, and he was I, and I was me, and I was it and it was everything, and I preceded to fly and observe Sid Carol shatter all forms of measurement with perception on the tall green hill in the black starry night.

---
Siddhartha Bodhidharmu Peréz Von Carol was born on September 6, 1995 in Richmond, VA. He started writing stories and poems at the age of seven and has recently begun self-publishing and distributing his homemade books throughout his hometown to anyone who'll take them. He is the creator of the annoying, city spreading incessant chant "Fever McBeaver." His father, Joseph Musgrave, is the owner of the popular Richmond vegetarian restaurant Harrison St. Coffee Shop. On occasion, Sid hangs out and sells his books there for a cheap price. He's also a singer-songwriter and he usually plays around town with his friend, the Richmond musician Shane Sayers. He lives wherever he goes, and that's usually Fulton Hill with his friends, Carytown with his father, the Fan where he regularly goes, W. 20th St. by the James River with his mother and baby sister, or school where he is unfortunately forced to go every weekday for 7 hours.

Sid is also a devoted fan of Elliott Smith.

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