A strange thing happened.
I woke up this morning with a head full of fog, convinced I hadn't had a dream.

Then, Tonite while I was running along with my group, under a beautifully clear night sky, against the Panting broken conversations my mind burst into recall.

"Frank?" I said.

"Ya?" The boy said not looking up from his fishing rod.

I looked at the little bop tumbling about in the water below. Our little legs kicked back and forth in the air under the dock.

The sun was either just rising, or just setting across the pond. The wind was gentle, barely noticeable in the trees. As the sun crested a cloud it froze in place. Everything was held in a golden hue.

"Where am I?" I asked, my high pitched voice, that of my 10 year old self ringing out.

The boy with his hair slicked to the side turned to me, now thoroughly unconcerned about his red and white bob. The sun reflected across his head in a brief flash forcing me to blink.

"You're fishing, with me. Everything's fine. You think Too much." Frank replied. His deep blue eyes then turning back to the water.

"But Granda, I don't know what I'm doing?"

People always told me that I was the split image of my Grandfather. I didn't believe it until later when I saw pictures of him before he married my grandmother. Sure his hair wasn't spiked, but sure enough, it was almost like looking into a mirror.

He Pulled back on the rod slightly. The bob bobbed up and down in the water, broadcasting concentric circles outward across the glassy water.

"It's easy" He said. There was a splash. "You can't know what you're doing. You've never done it before. But you can know it's the right thing to do" There was another splash. The rod was pulled back and a fish was dangling on the end.

"Is it?" I said.

"It is" He said before I'd even finished.

"You know Granda, I'm really Happy" I said. The fish now splashing violently, trying to save it's life. My boy Grandfather held an expressionless face, simply looking downward.

"I know. It's good to see. I saw the real smile from a mile away." He said, now suddenly looking at me.

"I really miss you granda."

"I know."

"Can I do this?"

"Trust me, and not because I'm saying this. But because I know this."

"What?" I said, squinting now, the sun had begun to fall again, it's dying beams blinding me. The water was ablaze with the firey oranges and reds.

"You'll do this... and you'll do much more."

"Really?"

"People don't forget your name for a reason." He said, setting down the dead fish next to him. Slowly he wrapped the fishing line around the rod and stuck the hook in the end. Climbing up clumsily, rod in one hand, fish in the other he looked at me.

"I must go now." He said, walking down the narrow wharf.

"Hi" I heard him say behind me, but not to me.

I turned around. The bushes beyond, under the tall trees were shaking as he had just passed through.

Standing at the end of the wharf , hands in the pockets of her shorts was a girl. She had Long blonde hair with bruises on one knee and was wearing dirty white sneakers.

"Hi" she said, waving and walking up the wharf.

"Hi" I said as she sat down. I started Whistling. Then I stopped.

"Can you whistle?" I asked.

"I wish I could." She said putting her lips together and noiselessly blowing air through. Then smiling she began kicking her legs in the open air beneath the edge of the wharf.

"Here, I'll teach you." I said, taking her hand.
....
....

Still Sore and unwilling to go for a run, I chilled out this afternoon. Slinking into the sweet spot on my couch, I held onto an ice cold grasshopper and began to shut out the world.

Then without a knock my door opened.

"Hey, You up for csi Tonite!?" He shouted, walking in through my unlocked door, still wearing a suit and tie. As he kicked off his shoes he saw me on the couch, not bothering to look up at him. "Whoa! Drinking on a monday are we? Musta been a good day." He said, going to my fridge and helping himself to my stockpile.

"I guess you got that memo about my new Open Door Policy eh?" I said, shifting and reluctantly sitting up to face him as he took the arm chair, fully uninvited to do so.

Accepting my disapproval of his Self invitation P sat down, "Cheers to shitty mondays." he said as he threw the beer back. "So what's up?"

"Remind me, when did we become comfortable enough with each other for me to be okay with this?" I asked.

"Well I figured this was the next step. I mean, You see my nuts almost everyday, and I see yours."

This was true, we do run together as of late more than most couples do, and we both wear spandex runners. Though his are Pink and yellow and much tighter than mine. Mine are black and blue and glow in the dark.

"Alright, good answer. Well as for what's up...Not much really. The arse came out of 'er at work today. We're screwed... and, hmm, oh, I'm trying to make increasingly complicated travel plans."

"So everything went well after?"

"Better than you could imagine actually, I thought about it today, it was probably the most fun I've ever had with someone, we didn't laughing." I said, sipping my beer and looking away to avert his probing look.

"Sounds good. Tell her how you feel?"

"Ya. At dinner before she left."

"Love her?"

"What is this!!!" I said, lurching forward, completely insulted by the sudden jabbing probe. "Where the fuck did you get that question from?"

"We saw you, and who I assume is her at the airport on Saturday.... I didn't want to interrupt so we walked by"

I was shocked. I didn't have anything to say to that. He leaned forward.

"Are you going to do something crazy?" That was the second time that question, more or less, had been asked in an hour. I always suspected him of having some sort of extra-sensory ability.

My answer was the same, "Ya, I am, so?" I said, slumping back onto the couch.

"I quit today." He said, changing gears.

"You what?"

"I quit."

"Why?!!"

"I'm moving."

"You just moved in!?"

That explained the suit. The Tie. The half frown, half smile. He had always boasted how he loved his job. He never spoke about how much he made, but it was more than obvious from his apartment, which unlike mine, was always locked.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, leaning forward, now completely serious.

"I'm doing something crazy."

"What?"

"I'm going with her."

"You're going with her? what?! To South Africa? Are you shit nuts?" I said, not realizing what I had said until I had said it.

He set down his beer and stood up.

"Yup. I am." He said.

"You love her?" I said. I'd always suspected him and N had been more than 'just dating'.

"Yup."

"She know?"

"I think She does."

'It's not ready for words' was the quote that came to mind and I smiled.

Before he could leave I plastered him with questions. Did you have a job lined up there? no; Was it hard? no; Feel good? yes; Happy? More than ever; When do you leave? With her.

"Just... Do it.... Even if it is crazy." He said as he opened the door with the same hand he held a beer. "Go someplace warm, Walk on a beach. Or go someplace cold. Don't let the obstacles get in the way." He said, smiling now, then becoming serious. "You and I, we're lucky, we have the ability to get around most of them on our own. We can get around all of them with their help. I saw you Saturday, you know it's worth it."

He smiled. "My place for Csi tonite. Bring some Party mix... and a couple of these" He said showing the beer in his hand...and the door closed.

I stood there on the other side of the bartop like an idiot. My mouth hanging open.
I'd just had my mind read.
That asshole. He didn't even ask.
...And he was right.

I was the last one left.

The Marks of a Good Weekend

That's it right there.
It might look like I forgot to wipe my mouth after drinking some coffee, but no, that's the mark of a good weekend.

I woke up this morning and stretched, moving to get out of bed. With the sun beaming in through my half opened blinds, it felt like I was under a spotlight. As I climbed out of my warm bed pains shot up along both sides of my chest. Then they were gone.

As the day wore on the pain didn't re-emerge until.. I laughed.

"Check that out."

I looked over to see a huge dog go running by with a little kid on its back. The kid was crawling along it's back, holding onto the dog's collar squealing with excitement. Then the dog veered and ran off the trail and into a bush. It only took a second, but the squeal quickly changed from a happy high pitched noise to a slow, low, quickly escalating bawling cry.

Parents were soon on the scene laughing. We laughed as we jogged by. It had just been on of those absolutely ridiculous things.

As I laughed, the pains came back, burning my sides. I stopped laughing and stopped jogging, holding my sides.

"What? Stitch?" My 'running buddy' asked, pulling up along side.

"No no... Muscle pain, I'm not sure what from, just got it that second?" I said, walking along, hands wrapped around my sides.

"Wait, burn from laughing?" He said, laughing now.

I thought back.
"I did do a lot of laughing this week you know, guess I strained the muscles." I said smiling.

"Shut up." He said with a groan "I guess you must have strained your Chuckle-ers." He said smiling now like an imp.

I laughed again.... and Quickly stopped as the pain shot through me again.

"Well I suppose it could be from climbing. My arms are a little weak too."

"Well then Come on and stop being a pussy, we're using our legs now." He said, tapping his watch.

"Well said." I said, sprinting and leaving him behind.

Either way, whichever is the reason for the pain, it's the same cause.
But the climbing was only a few hours.
The laughing..... that was for days.
and either way, I guess I really did laugh till it hurt.

Another mark of a good weekend.

A Good Weekend.
Also known as a fantastic end to an Incredible Week.

I guess that makes these the marks of a great week.

It only happened for a second.
But in that second,
everything connected.
In that second I caught a glimspe of what was possible.

It's good that it feels that great.
It's good to know I'm not crazy.

It's time to change the approach.
In a city with no eyes and deaf ears,
Where every move is being watched,
It's time for actions to take the place of words.

It's time to show.

I've spent some time trying to reassure myself that I'm acting properly. Before I go to bed every night I think. I think about the same thing. I try to sort through it a little more.

I've collected several opinions, All from my most trusted sources. Despite the fact that they are from all over; 2 from the other side of the world; the underlying opinion has been the same.


And every night, I go through it all again.
..And the stalemate continues.
Action versus Words.

So you can imagine the shock today when over lunch the subject of my deepest thoughts was thrown onto the table beside my sandwich and milk.

I coughed, almost choking from surprise.

"...So what happened after....?"

I laid my sandwich down, reestablished my deceptive composure... and I told the truth.

"Nothing...." I said.

My response was obviously unsatisfactory. Not because it was unbelievable, but because that's not what should have been the truth.

Much to my shock a winding, involving conversation then began that I was completely unready for, much less wanting to have.

The conversation didn't turn to probing me for information as I had readied myself for. She seemed completely accepting of the truth I'd given her. Instead, she began to tell me her opinion of what I should do. How she had achieved such insight into me was beyond my understanding. But she laid it out and I found what she had to say incredibly reassuring. I smiled, "You know I love you right?" I said.

She just laughed, understanding the joke and understanding what else therein I had just confessed.

We walked back from lunch, the sun beaming down.
The lights changed stranding us at the corner.
I squinted as the Sun reflected off all the buildings around me.
A car pulled up and came to a stop as the lights changed and we began to cross the street.
A flash caught my attention, I looked at it, I looked at the car.
There, hanging from the Mirror, dangling in the windshield was a Horseshoe.

I smiled.
Maybe I should believe in signs.

I got back to work and sat down.
I spun my chair around feeling a sense of relief.
My thoughts lined up, cascading into order.

The tug of War was over.
My side had won.

We stood at the corner, waiting for the light to change.
A car passed and something clanged and noisely came to a stop onto the ground before us.

"Whoa!"

"What's that?"

"Holy Shit. It's a horseshoe."

"What? How?"

"I don't know."

"Well pick it up. It's good luck."

I stooped down and picked it up. It was pretty light and no sign of rust.

"Must be Aluminium."

"Let me see.... ya It's definately Aluminum."

"Tell me, how did someone figure out that a piece of metal used by Horses to walk in their own shit was a source of good luck?"

"Wait I know this...." A long pause, the light changed to green and we started to jog again, shiny, shitty horseshoe now in my left hand.

"I believe its from the wild west."

"No shit Sherlock"

"No seriously. Someone bent down to look at his horse's shoes just as someone shot at him. The shot missed and then that guy killed the guy who tried to kill him."

"So that horse shoe saved him?"

"Obviously that would be the interpretation."

"Seems lucky enough."

"Think it'll save your life?"

"I'm not planning on riding a horse, let alone having anyone shoot at me."

"Not yet you're not."

Hmmm, I thought, This is true.
"Alright, that's a valid point. I want to change the subject now, I'm not using up my good luck now."

"I like the haircut."

"I'm wearing a hat!"
...
This week promises to be absolutely fantastic.
Did the horseshoe I dropped less than a block later have anything to do with it?

"Star light, Star Bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish Tonite"

I have a wish. I made a wish.
It's an important wish.
I've made it into a prayer.

If the cosmic powers let me down, and the Divine creator doesn't intervene then... I'll be left with little recourse.

I'll make a plan.
I'll make it come true.
My plans never crash.

But it may not come to this.
Maybe a miracle will happen or a wish will come true.
Maybe open mindedness will prevail. Maybe the Struggle will stop.
Maybe a Chance will be taken and maybe the obstacles will be overcome one by one.

Or maybe...
maybe my head will explode while I sleep from the thoughts and dreams that are about to overflow it.

"At times, Even the Power of God can pale in comparison to what one man can do with his hands and his heart." ~anonymous

I finished my book last night.
I'm not in the mood for another.

My iPod has "Stopped working" and sadly, it can't be "fixed".

I'm sitting in the Airport.
I'm listening to Salsa and Clearing my mind.

I already have the window seat.
All I need now is a blank Canvas. Something, anything I can use to paint the patterns of my mind on.

I have a scribble pad.

Planes are always good for thinking. Planes are always good for plans
So little distraction.
And now, as fate would have it... what little distraction I had once equiped myself with is now gone.

It's the Perfect time to think.
It's a Perfect time to push crazy Colum aside and think rationally. Well, more rationally than normal.
"Do I really want this? And what am I going to do about it?"
The answers, all of them are screaming at me. Some of them are hiding behind others, others are obscured by feelings so strong and yet so unfamiliar.

I promise I'll sort them all out.
Just be prepared for the answer I'm going to give.
I can't warn you. I'm not sure what it's going to be.

Time to embark on a hearlding voyage through thought.
It will undoubtedly be a bumpy flight.

[No Picture]

There are always at least two possible outcomes to every decision.
Generally, one outcome is more favorable than the others.

People fit into two groups here.
There are those who will obssess over the less favorable outcome.
They will plane contingenices and be ready for the disaster that they are certain is on the very verge of happening.
When they're right, they're ready. When they're wrong, they're Estatic.
While they wait, they're miserable.

Then there are people like me.
People drunk on their own enthusiasm and blinded by optimism.
They will obssess over the more favorable outcome.
They'll begin to lay out the preliminary thoughts for a future based upon a good fortune that hasn't even occured yet.
When they're right they're reinforced.
When they're wrong, they're devastated.
But while they wait, they're secure, happy, and perhaps even bold.

I'm not sure why. I'm not sure why I do it.
Of course, every decision doesn't turn out to be an upset.
Actually, most of the very important ones usually turn out well.
Hence the idiotic smile I usually wear.

Unfortunately, the most important one in a long time didn't turn out well.
.... and it wasn't even my decision.
Probably why I can't understand it.

shit.

I've decided that from now on I'm only going to speak in code.
Invasions of my privacy have become commonplace and extraordinary measures are required now to protect what little I have left. Of course, I'd be lying if I said it was my idea. The original concept is seductively foreign, but I've decided to Expand it in such a manner as only I know how.

Everyone and Everything Important will be assigned a number. No more words, no more ears. The meanings of the numbers are surely known to those who are involved.

I'm a mathematician, the code should seem completely normal.
My number will be 100. The reason should be obvious.

Eyebrows will undoubtedly raise when I answer the phone.
"Hello, 100 speaking" ... "Good Morning There, 100 Speaking"... "Hi, Pleasure to meet you, I'm 100."

But as the conversations continue people will think they've only heard half of the conversation. They'll think it's about something they are totally unconcerned with.... Math. Some crazy kid with spikey hair is sitting over there rambling off random numbers, Has he gone crazy?
Yes.
But the number for that is 77.
"Have you gone 77?"
"I went 77 just after I had a 5 with 100"
"Christ, you really are 77. What 5 did you have?"
"We had a set of 43s, then another.... then another... it was pretty 77 actually."

As my life seems to be of such great conversation material, math should make a nice substitute. Math is the universal language after all. But if it's universal, how come so few people speak it?
Of course us mathematicians speak it, we're the translators for the rest of the world. But then of course, Engineers speak it, so do Astronauts, Pilots, and of course Scientists (of all kinds).

So the conversation will continue. Never again interrupted by who may be listening. Never again will there be the need for the sudden switching to diversionary topics such as the Weather, or failing that, simply Silence.

"Oh 100 is that you?"I say.

"Excellent Great to hear from you" I continue, ".... would you like to go grab a couple of 5's after 5? 5's not good? Ok no worry, Well how about 40 passed 7... you know, 20 to 8? ok.. perfect that works Maybe after we can pick up a 3, it shouldn't be any later than 10, certainly not passed 11? No? what? Ok perfect. Are we still on for 2? Excellent, I've been practicing my 33 and I think it's about ready for the 2 scene.... Yes Yes, I entirely agree. How about 7 on Friday? Excellent! I guess 7 is lucky, no broken bones in the forecast.... Yup, looks like Saturday... wait what is Saturday? Oh its 18? ok, Then Saturday should be fine for a 20. Ok, I'll write that down now so I don't forget it. Perfect. Alright, I'll 6 you then. Take care 100.... Yup, you too, 11 later."

And remember, they say math is a Language.
So I'm 100.
Friday is 7 and 33.
April is all about 2.
and Thursday I have a couple of 5s scheduled.
... and you're 100.

Hmmm. Now....
Only Now this is starting to get complicated :)
At Least it's not difficult.

Think of it as a spring.
It's bent and mishapen, but it's not broken.

Hardly,
In Fact, It's Dangerous
It's simply caught up,
waiting.

All the energy is stored,
Every ounce of effort put in ready to pounce.
Just a simple twitch or a small nudge,
a simple movement in the right direction,
Just something, so small, so unnoticable to anything else,
and it could spring forth.
It would unravel,
and suddenly, everything would be the way it should be.

How easy is that? How Painless? How good? How fun?

The thing is,
It's only staying tangled because it's being held,
and nobody's ever letting go.

Post Hidden

[No Picture]


Post Hidden

Here's the road I'm on.
That's where I am on it.

I know there's a huge obstacle ahead. It's going to be a tough drive over those mountains. I don't believe there's a road over them and I don't believe anyone has driven over them before me...Before us.

Of course there is another obstacle.
We seem to be stuck, we're not moving.
The mountains aren't getting any closer. So getting to the obstacle has proven to be an obstacle in itself. Interesting.

I've been stuck home sick for the last day and a bit and I've been thinking.
I don't like being stuck.
And worse, I don't see any valid reason for being stuck.

However, nonetheless, I do see why I am stuck. The list is colorful:

• Laziness
• Lack Of Focus
• Lack of Motivation
• Lack of Support

Obviously none of these reasons are valid, and they serve to motivate just by looking at them. There's no sense in standing around being a f*cking tool. I know we have have the right team assembled. We just need to motivate off each others' extraordinary ability instead of simply being comfortable with each others' extraordinary ability to have fun. :)
So I'll begin to sacrifice the partying for the chance at furthered prosperity. The Operant idea here is: Begin to...

But why this sudden realization? Easy.
Somebody who I aspire to be like looked at what I have planned, what I have done and made a harsh judgment.

"These are just the dreams of a boy. What about the real world?"

It hurt.
But I needed to hear it,
Or see it as the case may have been.

It's a decision you can only make once.
Once everytime until it finally goes wrong.

To jump?
Do you make a leap of faith?
Will everything work as you want? Will everything work as you hope?

Once you've done it,you can't go back.
If it works you love it.
Once you've let go you can't grab back on.
You can't fight the force that carries you down
The safety, the security, the silence, they're all gone.

Once you let go, after you jump, everything changes.
Suddenly it's a world filled with Thrill.
Yet, the smile doesn't stop. It continues, held in place by thrill, by uncertainty, by dread, by life; by trust in the fact that everything will work out just as you hope.

Yet, I jump so little.
I dislike the dread.
Why was I so quick to jump this time?

Will it work as I hope, as I want?
Will I land safely, will I be caught?
Or will I crash?

[Я имею заботу]

My dreams have been peculiarly vivid lately.

At first it seemed as if it was simply the result of my very happy to be home, over stimulated, work driven, mathematical brain.

But now I'm beginning to wonder if these midnight adventures are even dreams at all.
Is it possible that they are visions, or are they simply wishes?

I have little difficulty remembering every detail of these dreams. Many of the same People are there. One person is always there.

Maybe these sights of my sleep are indeed detailed apparitions of what is to come Or perhaps, they are detailed suggestions as to what I should do.

Perhaps the strangest part of all of this is that my sleeping mind has its thoughts all sorted out.
My waking mind can't seem to think straight. I think in jumbles; I relive the weekend over and over again.

At least, for now, I can't stop smiling.

Sometimes, without warning, the weight of what I want and what I have done suddenly crashes down upon me. So this raises the question, what is it that takes more skill?

Is it the ability to continue smiling and let no one know that anything is wrong?
Or,
Is it that I'll accept the loss and the sacrifice needed to get what I want and then I'll pursue it twice as hard?

Or, Of course a third option: Is it just that I'm an idiot and the answer to the first question is "You're in Denial" and the answer to the second is "You're avoiding the consequences".

So amongst the fuzzy memories and the copius amounts of a fuel-like smelling, pink coloured liquid I managed to have a great weekend. I also managed plunge myself into circumstances and confusions better left unscoped and undescribed.. at least until I can think straight and sort what has happened, what Is going to happen and if what I want wants me.
...

Oh Gossip Train, you'll swing up into full steam once we get back, no doubt.
I certainly did give you enough fuel for your fire.
You'll roll and you'll rumble, you'll toil and spread trouble.
So Spin your Wheels and make me smile.
For Not much else has in a while...
at least, not these days.