Our Choices

Our choices are infinite. We can ultimately decide who we are as human beings. While at the same time our choices are so limited. As creatures we are shaped by our experience. Yet we never seem to be able to fully grasp our own experience. Ultimately, we seek to grasp our future, while feeding our present, and relying on what we saw in the past. 

Randomness

There definitely seems to be an order in things. I wonder if that order really has a hierarchy. Randomness in life eludes everyone. Randomness of experience teaches us all. What is our hierarchy? What is randomness? I guess it depends upon the day and the given situation. How limited in our consciousness we often seem to be. 

The Waitress

I sit in the restaurant and listen in on the conversation. I hear the waitress give directions to the tourists sitting across from me. Where do they want to go? I often wonder this myself. Where do I want to go? Where will life take me? Do I have choices, or am I just part of a huge adventure. Maybe the waitress can give me directions? 

Life Begins Again

Life begins again. Something about that feel of early life in spring. Something about the green, or maybe just the warmth. God comes to the plants. He wakes them from hibernation and pulls them towards the sky. And the plants reach forward, basking in the sun and warmth of the start of another cycle. And I feel the change in our cycle. The doldrums and monotony of cold and winter seem distant, and everything seems fresh. 

The Spring "Pop"

The green of a hillside begins to shimmer with that early spring explosion of green, a tint of yellow, and a glow in the sunlight. I love this time of the year. Life comes to the forefront after what always seems like a long winter. Dormant months, where life sleeps, where nature shows us snow. I love spring and those early weeks of life when the explosion and “pop” makes life seem bearable again. 

Madness

Madness does set, at least I think that it does. I see it in the eyes of those that I know. I see their crazy look at different times, not always mind you. Humanity can be calm, just not all the time. Our axis of turning allows for periods of imbalance, fluctuating between emotions and reality caused by those emotions. Nothing ever stays the same.

The World Turns

People run in a million directions. They turn this way and that. Many people turn in so many directions that they never accomplish anything. They swirl into an abyss of self-made chaos, unable to understand their insanity. Their most basic instincts are quashed by the heavy world of so much going on. While the earth turns, the world’s creatures turn as well. Human beings spin upon their own axis. Twisting amongst each other until the madness sets. 

Craziness in Humanity

Crazy people stand everywhere. Their eyes watch me. They watch everyone, wild from craziness. They are watching me with such diligence, or maybe I’m the crazy one. Maybe, it’s a little bit of both. Who isn’t crazy? This world makes everyone a little crazy. This world twists and turns and pulls insanity out of humanity. What can we do?

Birthdays

Birthdays represent a new beginning. Actually, they represent whatever a person wants. I like to look at birthdays as a chance to redefine who I am, another year and another chance to do better. I need to streamline who I am. I need to fulfill my potential. There is a larger plan. I need to reach towards my God and fulfill my own humanity. 

The Grays of the Day

The Grays of the Day are Bittersweet. My mind rides the tides of time. The Grays of the day are bittersweet. I can't get her out of my mind. I can't get her out of my mind. Come to me, where are you now. Come to me, where are you now. Raindrops pound the noisy street, the smell of the earth and the rising heat. Where are you now. The grays of the day are bittersweet. My mind rides the tides of time. The grays of the day are bittersweet. I can't get her out of my mind. 

The Right Path

I'm just trying to find the motivation. My hill keeps becoming steeper and steeper. I keep working hard, trying to figure how I can become a better person. I don't want life crashing upon me. I don't want to be a failure. I want to wake in the morning and feel good. I want to feel crisp meaning in my day. Not this abyss that I seem to be living. Life has a path and I'm on the wrong one. I'm lost without my compass. I look into the sky, looking for inspiration. I look towards the heavens, yet I see expansive sky rolling endlessly. Why can't I just figure it out?

Fear Takes Over

Fear takes over. I don't want him to take over, but sometimes he does anyway. He's kind of a control freak. Fear doesn't allow any lead way. Fear doesn't have much flexibility. He doesn't give me many choices. I'm forced to become his servant. Whatever he wants, I better deliver. Everything has to be on his terms. Fear takes over and that's it, I'm no longer the person that I want to be. 

Life's a Roller Coaster

What's the meaning of life? A fairly common question, asked in some form by just about every human being. I look closely into my life. I don't see any meaning. I only see a roller coaster at the amusement park. My life gradually climbs, rising towards a plateau. Rising towards a crucial moment, of which I have very little control. As I fret, my life begins to slide downhill. That crucial moment passes and there's no turning back. Quickly, I gain steam. My nerves fizzle. I want to scream and yell. Faster and faster, I roll downhill, wanting the ride to be over. And then finally, I reach the bottom and the ride is over. My life's over and I want to do it again. 

God's Here Somewhere

I know what it feels like not to have anything. I know when God eludes me. I know he's here. I feel his presence. But here I am, sitting in the middle of my life without anything. My pockets are empty. My stomach growls from hunger. Poverty and hunger don't mix well, kind of like oil and water. God's here somewhere. I know that much, at least. He's just not looking upon me favorably. 

A Credit Worthy Individual

People have credit with each other, with banks, with just about everything. My credit's not so good. I wish it were better. If I could only have back so many relationships. I have burned so many bridges. I have made so many mistakes. All I can do is make amends. I can pray towards a higher power and search my soul. I have to do better. I have to reinvent myself into a credit worthy individual. 

I Don't Slow Down

I thought that I saw him. I walk quickly in his direction. I thought that he was there. I turn the corner and continue my pace. Maybe he's up ahead. He has to be here somewhere. I walk quickly down the city street. I look ahead. I think that I see him, again. Unfortunately, he's nowhere to be found. I don't slow down. I continue my pace. Faster and faster I walk. Moving in his direction. Whether or not I actually see him again remains to be seen. 

God Has Many Faces

I see him everywhere I look. Mostly, I see him in people and their faces. Expressions twist and turn, constantly moving, constantly churning. I see people react towards happiness. I see people react towards sadness. They become angry and then docile. I see the creases and curves of their expression. The way they constantly react in an infinite combination of feeling. Mixed and mangled in physical expression, caught in transition. God has many faces. 

Does He See Me?

I wonder if he sees me. I feel neglected. I walk the city streets feeling lonely, again. I walk alone. More alone than I really want to be. If he's here, I don't see him. I want to see him, I really do. But all I see is loneliness. I see misery in the street. I feel the hardship in poverty and sickness. Sure, I see much joy. Joy's easy. But the hardship stands out a little too much. The hard lines in people's faces caused by stress. I feel the panic and I just want it to go away.

Wisdom Makes All the Difference

Wisdom doesn't always come from above. Sometimes, it happens from within. Or maybe this is from above? I can never seem to figure where inspiration comes from. All I know is that I feel smarter. I feel more experienced. I feel like I can really venture into the world. I can step out onto the street knowing the plan. Wisdom gives me courage, like an extra layer of padding. I need protection from bruising when I fall down. Whether from above or within, wisdom makes all the difference in the world. 

Is That God?

I see God watching. Not the God that I'm looking for, but God just the same. He's looking down upon me, again. He's checking up on me, finally. I'd like to see him more often, who wouldn't. So there he is, staring down upon me from heaven. Or maybe I'm just imagining things. Is that heaven, or is that some pervert looking down upon me from his living room?

God is Infinite

God is infinite, so they say. "Good," I say. Good, I don't have to get up so early. I'll find him anyway. And I don't have to make an appointment. I'm sleeping in today. I'm sleeping in, simply because God is infinite. Somehow, I don't think this will pay the bills. Hopefully, God will be infinite when the collection agency calls. He can be anywhere he wants to be then, as long as he's close.

Manipulation

There's so much manipulation in the world. I find it all so tedious. Why? I don't feel like I need to manipulate. I don't feel like I need to take from the people around me, to put myself in a crafty position. I don't need to be motivated. I drive and people latch on. They wrap around and think for themselves. Manipulation takes on many forms. Mostly, it takes on insecurity. New York City grinds from constant manipulation on so many different levels. I really don't understand. Or maybe, I just can't fathom the cruel world I live. 

Give

Simplicity sings in the New York City night. I grasp the twilight with my lungs. I'm always grasping for something. Just make things simple, right? If it were only that easy, everyone would do it. So they say, but does this actually make things easier for me? I don't think so. The thing is, it feels so good to give. I can't figure out why everyone doesn't do it? If everyone were generous, this world would be a much better place. Unfortunately, humanity happens to be tricky.

A Cohesive Unit

Will I feel personal enlightenment? Will I ever feel comfortable in my own skin? Will my brain ever allow such a thing? I want to breath easily. I want to hold oxygen in my lungs with comfort and grace. I want to exhale without feeling like I'm losing some sort of fight for me. I think that my skin would fit quite nicely if my brain would allow such a thing. My big brain with it's big ego, yet remaining so small in scope. I want my skin to feel comfortable. I want my brain to except a certain level of comfort. I want a cohesive unit reaching towards some sort of ultimate potential. Is this too much to ask?

Faith Seems So Hopeless

Sometimes, faith seems so hopeless. I want to believe. Often, I feel like I have to believe. But then I think through my faith and find nothing but a maze of questions. I ask many questions directed towards God, all building upon each other, adding pressure and adding weight. I ask and ask, wondering, craving some sort of response. I want to believe. I really do. God please talk with me. And then I stop and listen and hear nothing. Just the quiet agony of wanting a response, of needing a response. I listen closely, focusing on the ever elusive. I want to believe, but faith seems so hopeless. 

Finding the Answers

I see God in the distance. And then when I come close, he disappears. Like a cycle this happens, time and time again. I'm aggravated now, trying to figure how to justify my cause. Finding God just isn't easy. He's elusive and intangible and somehow not functioning on all cylinders. Or maybe I'm not functioning on all cylinders. Maybe, both of us are missing a little. We certainly miss each other. I search and search, often coming close. And then when I come close, he disappears. Poof, like a magic show with smoke and mirrors and the works. Somehow, I keep searching. I keep wondering. When am I going to find the answers that I'm looking for?

Toxins

As human beings, we inhale toxins throughout our life. Just walking the streets and breathing. I'm not talking about smog and dirty air. I'm talking of the friction in our world, which matures us and steers us toward our personal horizon. We continue walking the streets, anyway. Do we have a choice? We are given a period of grace in this world. We walk the streets. We have limited time. We live in a world that creates toxicity. At some point we need to cleanse ourselves. 

Glue

I try and do the absolute best that I possibly can. Doesn't this define my identity? I search for some sort of external dimension. I have walked up and down New York City searching for presence. All the while that presence lay within my body. Layered somehow between my flesh and bone. I guess you could call it "glue." Glue for the soul. Glue for the mind, for everything that holds together who I am. Perhaps, I don't distinguish myself at all. Maybe my "glue," only lasts a certain amount of time. It melts away, while I disintegrate from within. 

The Absolute Very Best that I Can

I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Pity has possessed me. It digs into my bones, my inner core. It pulls out every little tendency that reflects poor choice. Pity beats a man into submission. Twists his soul like a vicious tornado. God doesn't feel sorry for me. He only expects better. He expects fulfillment of potential. He demands that I do the absolute very best that I possibly can. 

I Count My Blessings

I count my blessings. I ramble on and on about not finding God. But what does it all mean? If I think I have found God, I have. Haven't I? If not, well, I stumble through life tripping over myself. And I do trip over myself, that's for sure. There have been many years when I just didn't do very much right. Where I collapsed in crises, never anything but a victim. But not every year. Many years I held my own. I stood for my potential, for all the gifts that I possess. I count my blessings, because life could be far worse. 

Waiting For Answers

I want to cry like a baby, but that's not going to make things better. Perhaps, I was spoiled as a child. Perhaps, I didn't have to do enough for myself. Whatever happened to me sure makes things more difficult. I'm all grown-up and still searching for direction. Why can't I just find my way? How many years of hardship must I endure? How many years must I stumble through life trying to figure what's really going on? God has some sort of purpose for me, hopefully. I'm certainly waiting for some answers. 

Notice Me

I see God today, and he's not in Dunkin Donuts. Somehow, I think that this is a good thing. Too much sugar and seedy life could have an influence on God. I know that I don't. I seem to mean very little to him. Every time that I see him, he runs away. Maybe, it's me. What can I do differently? I'm certainly reflective. I'm a student, a listener, whatever it takes. What can I do differently to make God notice who I am?

God's Stomach

The boiler in my apartment building rumbles beneath me. The roar, and the shake created, methodically reverberate throughout. I wonder if I'm hearing a higher force. The boiler could be God's stomach. Churning and rumbling in the depths of my building. His stomach growls with hunger. And then the radiator spews forth heat. A trickle of warm air runs through my apartment. Down below the boiler shakes, and I feel the power. God's hungry. 

God Seems Distant

God seems distant. He seems far away and obtuse. His shape seems awkward and listless. His distance from my life seems immense, even in a very small world. I try and grasp his shape. I try and hold tight to a world that asks me for everything that I have. 

Sights and Sounds

Sights and sounds can trick the mind. I can be easily confused by what I see and what I hear. The world can twist sight and sound into strange shapes, easily confusing in a complex way. Even the simplest things, like walking down the street can emerge as a complex picture, with smoke and mirrors and hazy disbelief. But I keep walking, hoping that eventually the haze clears and I see the truth. 

God's Sense of Humor

Does God have a sense of humor? I certainly hope so. How could creation evolve without a little humor in the way we live, the way we treat each other, and even the way we look. I saw a funny looking creature in the mirror this morning. God must have been laughing his ass off when he made me. Actually, he must have been on the ground, rolling, when he created humanity. Everything about humanity reflects some pretty good humor on somebody's part. I'm going to give God the credit. 

Spring Transcends

The cold wind almost knocks me down. I turn the corner on a blustery, winter day in the city. The wind wallops me, tossing me around, and making me want to go back inside. I'm tired of winter. Mostly, I'm tired of feeling empty, of seeing gray, and feeling blue. I want spring, and birds, and green. Most of all, I want sunshine. I want heat, and I even want to sweat. I want to feel the sun's rays ripple through the trees with a brightness that makes me squint. I want to feel comfortable outdoors, without the cold. I would also like the spiritual awakening that comes with spring, a period where optimism transcends winter. Slowly but surely I see birth in the trees and in the bushes. The start of a new cycle of life begins. Life warms up, and the cold wind goes away.

God Only Knows

I stroll down the street with my head down, searching for money. I look for that stray dollar bill, that's how poor I am. My stomach growls from hunger. I walk down the street with my head down. I don't feel much pride today. I feel lower than low. I feel like life has walked all over me. Somehow, the tightness in my belly quickens me. Although I'm hungry, I will survive. I walk down the avenue as fast as I can. I feel my pace, as I hit my stride. The wind smacks my cheeks with a flair that only cold can bring. But I feel warm inside. I will survive my hardship and emerge a better man. Either that, or I starve to death. God only knows. 

Empty Donut Shops

The island feels tight. I sit in the Dunkin Donuts around the corner from my apartment. I have seen God here, but not today. Instead, I see humanity. I see the poor and needy. I see them struggle. I feel for them, as I struggle myself. God hasn't been in Dunkin Donuts today. I can tell by the people around me. I see their pain. I feel for them, but there doesn't seem to be anything that I can do. I look for God. I resolve to find him soon. I walk the streets and look for him. All I find are empty donut shops like the one I'm in today. What does it all mean?

The Fat is Gone

I feel the crispness. My body feels tight. The fat is gone. My meaning has been cut to the core. My existence has thinned, towards a sharpened arrow of my beliefs. I am still searching. I still have many questions. However, the fat has disappeared. I am sharp. I seek his companionship, yet I feel closer. God must be out there, somewhere. 

A Man on a Mission

There's a certain symmetry that happens everyday. There's a certain order in things. I walk up and down New York City. I consume the many different smells. I feel the tightness, the energy of motion. the city buzzes, people milling in anonymity. There seems to be no shortage of people. Too many people. There can be so many people in such a small space, so many lonely people. I walk the streets in search of God. His vision escapes me. His presence eludes me. I walk the city streets a man on a mission. 

Not Quite Right

I feel paranoid and not quite right. I feel like I better look over my shoulder. Something's coming to get me. I better watch my back. I hate this feeling. I want peace and tranquility, when all I see is darkness and doom. My mental stability wavers with adversity. I am depressed sometimes. I am paranoid. I seek answers. I seek wisdom. I walk through my life as a lonely man, sometimes. I often wish that I were happier. I wish that I felt better about my actions and choices and consequence. I wish that I had been a little more successful. I know that I can do better. I need to quit feeling paranoid. I need to quit looking over my shoulder. I need to know that my back is covered. I need to get over feeling not quite right and get on with things. 

The Lean, Mean, Me

Slowly and methodically, I become disheveled by life's little setbacks. Just about everything has been taken. My shell has been sanded down into dust, the remnants of a stronger shell, one would have thought. I seemed invincible. I certainly felt invincible. But I wasn't. I went down, several times, actually. And then picked myself up and made myself better. I streamlined myself. I cut away the fat and got rid of the excess, cutting down to a lean, mean, me. But is this enough, will it ever be enough? Will I go down again? I seek God for these answers. I look to him for inspiration and strength. Hopefully, I can find him soon. 

God Works in Mysterious Ways

God knows... Or does God know? I haven't seen him for a while. Where has he gone? I just can't find the spirituality that I need. I peek in the windows, but he's not sitting in the corner like I often find him. Nowhere to be found, leaving me without anywhere to turn. I float into the spiritual abyss. What can I do? The one, true God that I keep finding looks like a homeless person. He won't tell me what I need to know about the real meaning of my existence. He won't answer my questions. What's he really good for, anyway? Still, I seek, I yearn, and I'm not complacent about things, either. God works in mysterious ways.

Crazy Periods

Sometimes, I feel a little crazy. Let go on the streets and not quite right in the head. So what if I'm a little off. So what if I talk to myself, a little more often than I actually should. So what if I talk out loud, asking myself questions. And then I answer those questions, often with elongated sentences that rarely tell the truth. People look at me funny, sometimes. Most people just think that I have a cell phone, or at least hope that I do. They hope that I'm talking through these periods of craziness. Actually, I'm just talking to God. 

Lets Hope So

I head back towards home, still harboring serious questions regarding my spirituality , and how I should live my life. I'll see God again. At least I hope so, anyway. Despite his consistently gruff treatment towards me, I keep running back. I have a history of putting myself around people that abandon me. I hope God doesn't abandon me. If he does, there's not much to fall back upon. Some things are best kept in my back pocket. If God's not on my team, who is? I'm pretty confident that I'll see God again. Let's just hope so, anyway. 

Without a Backbone

"Yo man. You need to take a break from the donuts." I know my blood is sweet. I know that I really have a problem with Dunkin Donuts. I really am an addict. But God is in there, I keep telling myself. God has the answers. I really need to talk with him. Peter shakes his head in disgust, and he's right. I do need to take it easy on the donuts. I need to just stay away from Dunkin Donuts all together. God, or no God, it is Dunkin Donuts after all, and I don't have a backbone. 

Answers

Coming home from the bar last night, I take a peek into Dunkin Donuts. God sits in the corner, stuffing his face and sipping his coffee. I want to find some answers tonight. I want answers to all the serious questions that have been dogging me. I want some strategy. I want enlightenment. Somehow, I really seem to have a problem with God. Tonight he's in there, sitting in the corner. Tonight I will get some answers. 

Paintings of a Prophet

I find new symbols and new meaning in the paintings of Yoel. I had a deep discussion about his paintings recently. There sits a very religious side, with many paintings touching upon harmony, a journey through both a spiritual and material world. Of course, his work also represents musicians, which explains such lyrical content. Many paintings carry a rhythm. I'm also amazed that a prophet harbors such deep tradition in color. Bright and vivid colors blare from within his canvas, jumping out towards the reader. The prophet captures energy. Yoel's not an every day, run of the mill prophet, by any means. 

I Feel the Jolt

I head home, back towards my comfort zone. I peek inside Dunkin Donuts, yet there's no sign of God. Friday night has a buzz in my neighborhood, couples are out in restaurants and the bars are full. Energy rises to the surface on 3rd Avenue. All of Manhattan released for the weekend, paroled from the grind. New York City comes alive with Friday night flair. I walk home and soak the energy through my nostrils. I breath everything in, I hold my breath and feel the jolt, like a mean caffeine buzz. God's not sitting in Dunkin Donuts tonight, but I know he's out there. 

My Bodyguard

What I'm really looking for is God. Why can't I feel warm and fuzzy all over? Why can't I bask in a warm light and feel the glow of a higher power. Why can't I feel his purpose. I want commitment and resurrection and all those powerful things. I want a bodyguard to watch my back. 

Life's Tiny Pleasures

I know that it's the simple things. Life's small wonders always seem to spill forth, whether or not I actually notice. Usually, I do notice, most of the time. And then other times, I am completely oblivious to even the largest of life's, tiny pleasures.

A Higher Level of Consciousness

Just like my art creates a duality in my life. My paintings explore the person that I would like to become. Doesn't everyone want to transcend? Doesn't everyone want to hit on another level? Feeling movement towards progress, and I don't mean on a selfish, PR level. I mean more about the idea of giving, of taking care of people around me. Can a person transcend a higher level of consciousness?

The Sermon

I went to mass yesterday in the Episcopal Church. I slipped into the church in the middle of the Pastor's sermon. The sermon rang through the quiet church, only half full. Not a very successful flock, I thought. At least in numbers. the Pastor's sermon spoke of giving, how expensive the cost of running the church had become. Just like that, he lost me. He did not understand "giving," he understood "taking." I jumped up and left, never to return.

A Life Altered

The baby stroller began to roll into the street. Oncoming traffic ran quick, uptown, in full force on the one lane avenue. I moved quickly, reaching the rolling stroller. I was able to grab the carriage just in time. A handful of people looked on in disbelief, relieved that I happened to be in the right place at the right time. I was a genuine hero. I had saved the stroller from inevitable destruction by oncoming traffic. Just like that, my life was altered forever. I looked into the stroller expecting to see a shiny, happy baby, ecstatic from being saved. Instead, a small dog began to growl. Some sort of mangy, Chihuahua looking thing. I guess I wasn't much of a hero after all. Should a dog have it's own baby carriage? 

Signs of Sadness

I have had my share of health issues, that's for sure. I have had relationship problems, that's for sure. I don't think I've seen so much suffering in the last years as this man. It occurred to me, that in perspective, my life has been fairly easy. The old man sat in front of his cocktail, silently, not having to say anything. I sat, sipping my beer, wondering if things would turn out this way for me. Would I eventually wear such signs of sadness?

How Much Am I Worth

How much am I worth? I really want to know this about myself. How much am I going to discount? How much am I going to "sweetin the deal?" This, of course, trickles down to much more than just lost money. Everyone always wants a better deal, don't they?

Sadness

The old man really missed his wife. For him, survival spun around his health and her demise. I imagine spending my whole life with the same partner and then waking up alone. The crisp lines of age were distinct. I could see the wear, the sadness, and the affects of so much pain. 

Am I True

I reach deep inside myself, the necessity of self-preservation, for salvation. I am a very serious person, much more serious than anyone would ever give me credit. But am I a real man? That's the question. Am I true, within me. Do I have it in me, to move towards a whole new level of being? At the same time, I slip from self-preservation. I slip from everything that stands most important. Sincerity sits like everything that it should. I know the game, and it really is a game.

A Better Existence

When I function on all cylinders, my life is a beautiful thing. I need to feel comfortable, yet never seem to be able. I need to feel meaning in my every day existence. I need to know that I am able to fulfill my potential. I need to focus on my ideas, both creatively and in everyday practicality. I need to feel expansion through knowledge, to open my inner-self for opportunity. I just need to know, to fight, to kick and scream for a better life. 

Whether I Have, or Have Not

When I'm being mocked, it's tough to take. The one thing that I know about myself, I have potential. Whether I really have, or haven't, I don't know. I feel like I have potential. Isn't that all of the difference? I have to feel like I am great, in order to be great. Don't I? How can I be a better person? How can I be great? These questions challenge me. Hopefully, I can figure this out. 

Sincerity

The quietness of the church awakens my senses. I look up into the vast expanse and ponder my existence. Why am I here? My stomach growls and I am hungry. I pray for forgiveness. I pray for strength. I pray that I can open my heart for all that remains good. I need to block all that is bad. The quietness lingers and my mind wanders. I try and concentrate, but am unable. When without, my mind slows and I am unable to cut through the exploration of where I need to be. My life starts and ends with sincerity. With sincerity, I become a better person. Quietness still lingers, the church continues to awaken my senses. 

A Deep Breath

People continue to pass. Content thinking their own thoughts, deep within themselves. Life doesn't always seem so easy. I take another deep breath, a very deep breath. I begin to live again, to feel, to embrace humanity. Despite my immediate problems, I know that I am in the right place. Deep within myself, I feel calm. Everything will be alright. 

Poverty

It's days like today that I feel full of life, unfortunately. I have no money, I'm hungry, I'm down,  yet alive in the city. I get to focus on the roots of my humanity, the basic essentials. Not by choice mind you. Poverty has a certain aura within itself, for better and for worse. The struggles in my existence can energize. It can pull a person towards a new level of feeling, for better and for worse. Poverty can also be very difficult. 

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Catching Her Breath

New York sits in her hallowed shell, breathing deep breaths of slumber. People are sparse, I notice them and they see me. My anonymity revealed, as if for the first time. And yet there is peace. I see everything and am reminded of the fact that I am only passing through. Dog walkers stroll with their pets, content in the Sunday morning slumber. The city breathes slowly, catching her breath, as if for the first time. 

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Fulfilling My Potential

I still have a long way to go. I need to fulfill my potential. I need to become a better person, more well rounded, more caring and more sincere. I continue to pray, everyday. Slipping into the vast expanse of St. Patrick's Cathedral, asking for guidance and forgiveness. I still have a long way to go, but I'm going to make it. I will become a better person. I will fulfill my potential. 

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The Letter "R"

The big, lesbian bartender looked at me and told me the truth. "I've been carrying this big letter "R" around my neck all the way from Brooklyn." I laughed, more scared of this woman's presence than anything. I'm using the word "woman," very loosely, at this point. Apparently, she and her girlfriend found a large, letter "R," in an antique shop. A rather large "R," vintage remains from a sign, form a long deceased business. They had decided to give the letter as a gift for a newly married friend, carrying a new last name that begins with, of course, "R." She carries the big letter "R" around her neck, all two hundred-fifty pounds of, very "manly" woman. I wonder if the "R" really stands for "Religion." Maybe, she carries God around her neck for the day.

Hard Lines

I head uptown, towards the Prophet. Yoel beckons me, calling me towards his gallery. The mystic prophet calls me uptown, far from the comforts of downtown me. The rain continues to fall, holding my personality down. I feel lines forming on my face, hard ones. I see the man next to me in the diner, a hard life, with hard lines on his face. I see myself becoming that man. I sip my coffee and feel the caffeine running through my veins. I feel the energy boost, I feel a sharp "zap." How deep will the lines run in my face?

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I'm ready

With two suitcases and hopes for a future, I land in New York City. I don't have much money in my pocket, but then, I don't have much to lose. I'm ready to risk it all. I'm ready to go for it and make things happen. It's time to open myself and my creative verve. Open myself to that outside energy that steers me toward my own empowerment, and potentially my own devastation. I open and let things flow. What is my destiny? Who is this person, the creative force passing through me. I have to open myself, I hope that I can. Creativity surrounds me. Sometimes, it doesn't always come. Sometimes, I open myself, only to be slammed by life and creative nothingness. Sometimes, I just feel nothing at all.

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I Can't Sweat the Small Stuff

Outside, the rain pours, splattering against New York City asphalt jungle. The weather grabs my personality. Where is God when I really need him? Hard faces register around the diner. Apparently, I'm not the only one affected by dreary weather. The weather makes everyone somber, although somehow I find it comforting, in a distant, abstract, sort of way. I look around the diner again. Weathered faces are everywhere. I study their lines, their wear and tear. The guy next to me looks grizzled. Hardened and tough, in only a New York City way. So many years of friction, so many tough years, the faces read like the inner circles of an old tree. There's a lot of age, a lot of miles in the diner. In New York, I can't sweat the small stuff. Life will bury me alive, literally. No, I can't sweat the small stuff. Grizzled, hardened, tough faces are everywhere. I breath it all in, while searching for God. Somehow, I know that I'm not going to find him today. 

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Grasping Knowledge

I'm going to find some answers one way or another. If God wants to be elusive, than I'm going to keep searching. I'm grasping for knowledge. If only I could grasp understanding. There has to be some sort of theory that makes sense, or at least one that will resonate. All of this remains to be seen. I'm hoping for the best. What else can I do?

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How Ridiculous It All Seems

I'm searching for God to give me some straightforward answers. Unfortunately, he's not here. I keep moving. A homeless man asks me for money, turning to me for help. How ridiculous it all seems. The unfortunate begging from an empty soul, nothing more than a vicious cycle. As I head home, I give away my last dollar. My pockets are empty and I have nothing. How ridiculous it all seems.  

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The Hand of God

 From the hand of God, I believe. I know when a person opens his heart and the vision comes from a different place. I know. It's happened to me, personally. It's happening right now. I open the current and feel a pulse. I open towards the hand of God. Tapping into the current of a higher force. He's out there, he most certainly is.

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A Higher Power

Springtime blossoms, opening New York City. Life comes alive. I feel the energy. I feel that intangible "nip of warmth," quite the opposite of that "nip of cold." I walk the streets and feel that warmth. I feel the city opening out of a tight shell. Springtime represents a time of growth, a time of regeneration. I feel this on the city street. I feel a higher power.

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God's Little Mysteries

There has to be some sort of practical application, I think. I mean what's the purpose of this whole experience? I walk the streets of New York City taking life inside myself. Just breathing it all in. And only God knows what I'm really breathing. I don't know if I want to know. I walk the streets looking for practical application. I seek answers for God's little mysteries. I want to understand what I see. I breathe everything in, but who knows what I'm really breathing. And do I want to really know?

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Give It to Me, Baby!

I don't like to pussyfoot around when I'm after something. I don't really have the patience to hold back, you know what I mean. I'm on a quest here. I want some answers. I head into the streets, heading downtown, towards Greenwich Village. I'm on a quest for knowledge, for preservation. Mostly, I'm just looking for some sort of supernatural experience. I've said it before. I just want to feel warm and fuzzy all over. I want to see some lights. I want to hear voices, the ones I can't explain, the one's that freak me out. I'm here to open myself, to gut myself like a fish, cleansing my insides. Give me some knowledge, some cleansing, some healing. Give it to me, baby!

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I Sip My Coffee and Wonder

I sip my coffee and wonder, still sitting in the corner of the Brazilian coffee house. How come God always seems to spend his time at Dunkin Donuts? Maybe I should go down there and look for him. You would think that with his means, he might be inclined to find something fancier, maybe a French Bistro, or a Starbucks, at least. Why is God so inclined to spend his time at Dunkin Donuts? I sip my coffee and wonder. 

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Difficult Questions

I was in Dunkin Donuts and there he was. God sat in the corner having a cup of coffee. The remants of an undistinguished donut remained in the unkempt fur of his beard. Scraggly and  dirty, God needed to take better care of himself. I moved towards him, unsure of myself after the last time we spoke. "So God, what's the meaning of life?" I ask, ready for some answers. He looks up at me, obviously bothered by my presence. "Son, I wouldn't tell you, even if I knew." He says to me, simultaneously jumping to his feet and heading out the door. I stood there listless, without answers to some very difficult questions.

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God and Dali

The rain continues to splatter with it's rhythmic chime. I feel nothing. Sheltered from the meaning of life, I attempt to resurrect my own personal meaning. The rhythmic splatter continues to chime. My life marches on without me. A vast emptiness of a certain plane, a landscape stuck in surrealist light, not unlike a Dali painting. A painting that's a definite landscape, yet futuristic and scientific, vast and complex, exploring insanity. Outside parameters setting a true example of the human condition. Actually, very much like the surrealist landscape, not unlike Salvador Dali and his strokes of  a master. The box expands outside of the human condition, asking if there remains a box at all? And just like that, the landscape changes before my eyes and there's no longer any painting at all. 

Miracles Do Happen

Miracles do happen, or so I've been told. They do, I know they do. Whether or not I can actually see any sort of miracle remains foggy. Sometimes, I miss everything. Life becomes like one giant brushstroke in the night. A fast, smooth stroke wiped across everything. The pigment absorbs color, the night changes. And just like that, a miracle has happened, but I've missed it. Color falls into the seam. A picture emerges, although not always clear. The rhythm of the brush twists and turns. Miracles continue to happen. We are forced to move forward. We inhale and exhale. Our breathing rises and falls. We are unable to stop. A great brushstroke continues through the night, while miracles do happen.

I'm Just a Lab Rat

Sometimes, I feel like a lab rat trying to find his way through a maze. Some sort of crazy scientist hovers above, documenting my behavior, writing on a chart exactly what I do. I'm really part of a science experiment. I'm just a lab rat, without the knowledge to find my way. I'm just a lab rat relying completely on instinct. My maze bends around, and this crazy scientist follows my every move. Studying me from above, but never helping.

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I am Alive

New York can be so quiet. Quietness really isn't that great. At least, I don't think so. But who am I? Just another transplant. It doesn't take long to get into a flow of a certain pace. A certain rhythm of life. My living in the city explores every level of being. I head downtown towards Union Square, and then into the West Village. A crisp, moisture cold,  clings in the air. I am alive. My day opens ahead of me. I head downtown. I head into uncharted territory, and new adventure. Today's the day the doors open and I feel warm and fuzzy all over. I crave noise and bustle and motion. But it's still quiet. If I can just retain my sanity, I'll be okay. Let's not get carried away, of course. Let's not get carried away with expectations. It's early in the day, it's just begun. I know that I am heading in the right direction. Crisp air sharpens my senses. Razor sharp on a quiet New York City morning. I am alive. 

Who does She Think She Is?

This lady was the equivalent of a female dog. And I mean this with all sincerity, I do. Here I am, you know, looking for God. Who do I find? Satan. I'm still not feeling warm and fuzzy all over. Don't I deserve better? I think that I really do, at this point. Who does she think she is, anyway? I'm really just trying to find my rhythm. I mean really, I am. I know there's a higher meaning here, something that I keep missing.

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God Answered Me

I do not understand how I became such a religious person, or a spiritual person, or at least a person that spends much time thinking about God. Maybe it has to do with St. Patrick's Cathedral. I first ventured into the enormous, immaculate, church, when I began my job interviews, last year. I walked in and began to pray. At the time, I had nothing. I was in a deep spiral downward. My life was exploding like a stick of dynamite. I looked into the large expanse of the beautiful ceilings, and began to talk with God. For the first time in my life, I asked him to make me a better person. I prayed for sincerity, for honesty. I asked to fulfill my potential. And God answered me, at least I think that he did?

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Warm and Fuzzy

Trying to find God in New York City has been rough. Why can't I just feel warm and fuzzy all over? God continues to elude me, but I keep searching. I want to hear some voices, I want to be moved, give me some serious inspiration. I walk the streets alone, just trying to find my way. I see beauty. I see famine and homelessness, and everything ugly in the world. Maybe I'm seeing God already, I still want to feel warm and fuzzy all over. I want to hear voices and be moved. 

God seems Elusive

I check Dunkin Donuts again, but he's not there. He is not where I need him to be. He is not helping me. I pull into a diner and sit at the bar. I order coffee and a burger. I look around for God, but I cannot see him. He seems so elusive, but I continue to search anyway. 

The Spiritual Gutter

The rain pitter patters outside my bedroom window. Striking with a slap, as the water pounds the outside pavement. I think long and hard about my longing and about my needs. Yesterday, I stood in front of the Buddhist temple in Chinatown. I watched and prayed. I saw men connect with God, yet I felt nothing. Nothing but anticlimax, I am on the outside looking in. Why can't I feel good about life's little lessens? I often feel like I'm on the outside looking in, deep in a spiritual gutter.

Hiding From Myself

I can't run away from myself, that's for sure. As much as I try, I just can't seem to do so. I try and hide, but my demons always seem to find me. I run for cover, but my demons always seem to track me down. I just can't seem to run away. I walk quickly past Dunkin Donuts, I don't want to see God tonight. Of course my version of God doesn't seem to exist, or so he told me last time that we spoke. I believe that he's out there, entrenched somewhere in Manhattan. 

Searching the Streets

I walk the city streets searching for some sort of spiritual awakening. My journey, however well meaning, remains nothing more than a journey into a brick wall. I do feel a certain freedom when I'm on the streets. However twisted that it may seem, there's a crispness and verve in the constant grind and friction that makes New York City the place to be. I have a romantic notion of it all, which always seems to get me into trouble. My journey continues, I continue to walk the streets. 

The Wrong God

"So God, are you going to talk with me, or not?" He stops chewing on his donut, some crumbs and a little custard hang in the vicinity of his mouth, but not quite."Son, you've got the wrong God. The God that you want doesn't exist." And he looked away and kept right on chomping on his Boston Creme. I stood and headed out the door, heading home, bewildered, confused again. I stumbled out onto 3rd Avenue. Once again, I had come close. Once again, I felt further from the truth. I took a deep breath and felt the city verve. God still escapes me, but I continue to look.

Finding God at Dunkin Donuts

Finding God is one thing, finding him sitting at a table in Dunkin Donut's is something quite remarkable. Who would have thought that Dunkin Donuts could draw such a crowd. But there he was, chomping away on a Boston Creme, the sweetest of the sweetest, even by Dunkin Donut's standards. I sat down at the table right beside him. He has this deperate look, you know, like a guy who really needs a cigarette. So I say, "God, is that you, or are the donuts getting to me." He keeps right on chomping, ignoring me, kind of like he always has. I have always expected a lot from him, and received very little in return. Now I want some answers, and here he is. Ignoring me, chomping away on his donut.