January 2004 - TheTranscendenceDiaries

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January 27, 2004

I did not return to my grandparents’ house for many years. it is true. I boycotted all family affairs. And because secretly and sadly I told myself that I was too well-bred, well spoken, and snobbish to fit in with my father’s side of the family I avoided them entirely. they always made fun of me when I would visit them, and their poor manners offended me as much as my good manners offended them. So I was a very lonely young man for many years, which we needn’t go into here as I am sure there are thousands of pages in the diaries already recounting it from those days.

For the next five years I tried desperately hard to be an average working class kind of guy and fit in with the rest of the world. But no one would have it. The problem with being even slightly well-bred is that people can see you coming from a mile away. They can see it in the way that you walk and hear it in the tone of your voice. It makes them immediately suspicious of you. So trying to figure out where I fit in at all became an impossible exercise. So I stopped trying. I just started accepting who I was, and creating who I wanted to be. by the time I grew up and out of all of that both my grandfathers had already died. I was not sad. Instead I felt free. I was no longer bound to either side, but rather I could forge ahead and make my own path for my future family. But the mystery sometimes is what kind of path will that be… somewhere down the middle I guess.

Last night we were at dinner with some girl friends of ours and these girls started talking about their sex toys and masturbation habits. It was hilarious but at the same time I was aghast. They were describing things that they assumed that all people knew about and spoke freely about at dinner and everywhere else. I was in shock. And they were in shock that I didn’t know anything about these things and they kept looking to Bas and Ferret and asking is he for real? “Fishy’s kind of been living in his own little world for a few years now… don’t mind him.” somewhere inside I still hang on to this vision that all women aspire to be Princess Di or Audrey Hepburn. But the truth is that perhaps its only I that aspire women to be like this now. And most girls these days don’t even know … well you get the picture. But here’s where it gets tricky.

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January 26, 2004

I still feel like I am in this time warp. Strange feeling. Sometimes it is day. Sometimes it is night. I am going to Orlando to hang out with a bunch of friends. And then to see Maddie and Mohdie and their new baby. I don’t feel that I am sleeping well at all. I never fell rested.

Tonight it happened. The first. The first of many. I can still smell it… I followed her out to her car. Stopped her in the parking lot before she had a chance to even know what was happening. I grabbed her by the arm and started walking her towards the alley behind the restaurant. “If you scream a fucking word, you will suffer. Do you hear me? Walk with me. Don’t say a fucking thing. Once behind the restaurant, “Do you know why I am here?” She was shaking. And crying. “No,” sobbing, “who are you?” “that’s not important. But you know who I am. And you know why I am here.” “No I don’t. No I don’t! I have never seen you before. Honest…. please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me…” she pleaded. “Who is Judy Woodridge?” She burst into tears… “Judy was my…” “Yes Judy was your roommate… And what happened to Judy? Judy isn’t here anymore is she? Judy is dead isn’t she?” “Who are you? Why are you telling me this? How do you know me? What do you want?” “You are sick. And I have come to set you free.” I pulled out a knife and lunged it into her stomach and yanked it up as far as it would go. Her face went pale. And froze. Her blood splattered all over me. It was warm and wet. I could taste it. I let her body fall lifeless to the ground. She would die. Soon. I looked all around me and saw no one. I didn’t run. I walked away.

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January 25, 2004

I was parked on the side of the road downtown with the top down. Smoking a cigar and typing. I want to do a series of interviews with priests and nuns and other religious leaders I have met over the years. Been collecting these various people for a long time. I was creating a list of questions for them. Things like, do you think God is a man or a woman? Or is he just beyond all that in your mind? Do you regret not having sex all your life? do you think that not having sex all your life has brought you closer to God?

I’m typing away. just totally absorbed. And then I hear this voice like right next to me. and I jump. Totally freaked out. and I look up and there’s this lady, obviously a homeless lady standing next to the car. “didn’t mean to scare you sir.” me a sir? that’s funny. “But do you have a cigarette?” I was startled. “Oh no, I don’t smoke.” I say with this cigar hanging out of my mouth. She gives me this confused look, like I’m crazy or something. “But do you need some money?” her eyes light up. she is sniffling. Eyes all bloodshot. “yeah I could use some!” she says. I reach into my pocket. Fuck all I have is a twenty left. “Here you go.” I give her the twenty. She is so happy. I don’t tell Bas or Cleo or Beaver or mom or anyone that I give away so much money all the time to strangers. they would think I’m fucking crazy. I can’t even pay my bills the last couple of months. So broke these days… i could use that money to eat… but then, im not wandering the streets asking people for money. At least not yet… but that’s not the point. Face it, I am crazy in that respect. Is there such a thing as irresponsible giving? If there is, then I’m one of the biggest offenders…. perhaps there’s a 12 step program… but when someone is in need, and no matter you’ve ever thought or been told, anyone who’s gotten to the point where they are asking total strangers for money is in need, and so I don’t know, but… maybe its an irresponsible responsibility that we all have to give to those of us who have reached that point in their lives… something like that.

Who Am I?

January 24, 2004

I understand the Blue Mask now… I thought I was Tobias Guess. I Thought that one day I would be. I just always assumed it. Didn’t know for sure. I thought the Blue Mask was a character I was working on. I had no idea… I had no idea this would happen…

What happened? How did this happen? maybe its not important to know… or to understand what is happening or how it got like this. maybe its just important to know what to do next. It came to me… all at once…. in the car. That’s when it was. It was in the car. Before we hit… the Blue Mask and who he is. who I am?

My God. My face. Oh my God my face. I understand now. it wasn’t a character. All this time… I thought that it was….

I am underground now. I have come out. Through a door of bright light from underground. Some sort of time warp. But for how long? I need to disappear completely. There is a reason I lived. Am I alive? I must be alive. But it is all very clear now. what I must do. I will do my best to end the suffering. When there is a murder I will be there before it takes place. I will go underground and come out only to kill them. all of them. before anyone has the chance to strike, I will be there. I will hunt them down in the streets and in the alleys and I will kill them before they have a chance to attack. I can see something… I can see it in their eyes now, isn’t that strange? I can see it in people’s eyes when they are about to commit a crime… I can feel it on my skin.

I can see it on their faces, when someone is trying to hide it. I can feel it inside of them…. and they see that I see… they see me, and they get up to leave. But I follow them. I will seek the revenge that every mother and father and son and daughter or husband or wife has ever hungered for in the dead of night. I will hunt down and kill every one of them who has ever committed a crime against another. I will kill them when they are sleeping. when they are eating. when they least expect it.

But there is more to it. how can I stop the suffering of the poor and struggling? When there is so much wealth in the world. There is so much to be shared. I will steal from the wealthy and give the money to the poor and struggling; before they even have a chance to know what happened, their money will be gone and redistributed. if they will not give themselves, then I will give for them. I will redistribute it for them. and I will not be the only one. o.k. I understand this. there will be more. it won’t just be me. people will see and they will understand. And they will start to do the same. If a man kills then he shall be killed. If a woman is about to kill, she will be killed first. If a man does not want to give of himself to others than he shall be taken from. and put out on the street to struggle, like those he chose not to help at one time or another. It is clear now.

I had no idea. I am the Blue Mask. I didn’t get it. I get it now. it was me all along…

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January 23, 2004

I do not know who I am. Or where I am. I was in the car…. I was at the office? and then in the car? But now… where is this? where am I now? who am I now?

Picking Up Hitch Hikers

January 22, 2004

Picked up this old black guy today who was hitchhiking on south beach. It was about 10 or 11 at night. I pull over. Roll down the window; “where you headed old man?” “Where you going?” he asks me. “downtown.” “then downtown it is.” he hops in the passengers side. We’re off. I get on the freeway. Start driving fast. we say nothing. I drive faster. I’m up to 90. I look over at him. “I just lost my wife a few months back.” he says out of the blue. ‘Motherfucker,’ I think. “Lost my son a few years ago. Now I got nothing.” Felt the pain come up inside of me. I drove faster. “God man. That sucks. I lost my fiancé a few years ago.” “she died?” “Not exactly…” “Sorry to hear that.” I drove faster. I’m doing over a hundred miles an hour now. “God man. That just really sucks.” “Your fiancé?” he asks. “No man, about your wife and kid. Man that’s just so sad. How are you about it?” I look over at him. he has this glazed look on his face. “I’m o.k. I figure I’m doing as good as you can be doing.” “yeah I guess so.” “You can drive faster if you want to. I don’t mind. Boy this is a nice car you got here. whatch you do? if you don’t mind me asking.” “Me? I’m a singer.” I reply. “That’s nice. you’re a singer…” “Well actually, I’m a self-absorbed, self-congratulating, stoned-out, sex-crazed, linguistically-challenged singer… if you read the press.” “My my my. You all that? That’s nice…” ‘that’s nice?! I think…. ‘what is this guy crazy?’ “My son, he was a football player.” “Oh really? That’s cool man. How’d he die if you don’t mind me asking?” “Leukemia. Just came up one day and got him.” “goddamn man. You just never know huh…” “No. you just never know…”

I pushed the pedal down. I hit 120. I put both hands on the wheel. “Man we’re driving fast…” he comments. “You don’t mind?” I ask him. “You want me to slow down?” I look over. “What if I told you I don’t care whatch you do?” he asks me quietly. “I’d understand.” “what if I told you I wouldn’t care…..” he stops mid sentence. “yeah me either man.” I sigh, and just face the road. There hasn’t been a day in months that I haven’t fantasized about dying in some way or another, I’m thinking. and here I am with some guy I don’t even know who feels the same way… mother fucker. The last thing I need is an excuse to pull the plug. I pictured us crashing into a wall. Just going up in flames and a huge explosion. All the pain and the agony and the frustration gone forever. all of it over. I pushed the pedal down further. I had never hit 130 but I was willing to try for it. hovering just below 130… “you’re a young man still… you got a lot to live for.” He tells me. the car is on the edge. The slightest wrong move and we are fucking eleven o’clock news. “yeah I know. I keep telling myself that man. I keep saying that to myself man. I keep fucking saying that to myself man every day but…” I’m screaming… “but it don’t work like that sometimes, right?” “Right.” I say despondently. A soft “yeah” Is all he gets out. I hit 130. I’m weaving around the slower drivers when I have to. there was a moment there where I was just waiting for it. just waiting. Any minute. And it could happen. it could all be over. For both of us. For me and the sad old black man. Eternal freedom. We roll in this baby at a hundred and thirty and we are free from all of it forever.

Every night we fall asleep and kill another day off. We wake up and tell ourselves today’s gonna be different. Today we’re gonna make more money. today we’re gonna get some good news. today we’re gonna get that contract. Today we’re gonna meet that special someone…. Instead, today I wake up to a message from Infinito that his best friends parents both just died in a train wreck and the kid isn’t older than 23 years. And instead this old black man lost the only two people he ever loved within a few years. and now he’s alone. wandering the streets of Miami. lost. Aimless. No structure. No nothing. I kept driving faster. My heart was racing. My skin was crawling. I was sweating like crazy. Was I the angel that would deliver this sad old man to eternal salvation? Was he an angel come down from heaven to take me with him? He just sat there. glazed over. my mind was racing. I kept the pedal down.

There’s that lady whose daughter went into a coma eighteen years ago and all their money ran out so now she has to take care of her at home, her daughter just laying there in her room, a vegetable for eighteen maddening fucking years… the story of that other lady who was driving home from work one night when some guy in another car shot her at point blank range on the highway and blinded her for life for no reason. I can’t shake the images… Those two kids who got kidnapped last month at nikki beach club in Miami, the guy beat up and the girl raped and murdered. Those fucking bastards. Queenie and her eating disorders, when she’s perfectly healthy and has everything to live for but just can’t seem to find any joy in her life… And all those orphans in Africa who have lost their parents to aids. They say its like 25 million kids now without parents? Could that be true? and what are we doing about it here? man, I don’t know. all we see on TV is the same faked-out paid-for and piped-in gratuitous crap. my God the fucking horror. Where are we? What is all this anyway? what is this world of pain and tragedy? What are we all doing here? is there no fucking lucky break? Is it just the same fucking grind day after day? year after year? just praying everyday that someone isn’t going to die? Or that something good is going to happen…and all around us just constant suffering. Somewhere someone is always suffering. We are bombarded by the stories. And everyday we tell ourselves, ‘it won’t happen to me or my family. It just can’t happen…’ but it does. Everyday. All around us. We could end this now. I could end this now for both of us. Everyone will think it was an accident…. me and the old man.

“Old man?” “yeah…” “you ready?” “Yeah…” “Me too…”

Studying – Is It Worth It?

January 21, 2004

Where does all the information we read about go in our minds? It seems as though we are only able to gather a certain amount and then previous information disappears… can we get that previous information back again? we study study study. Always learning new things. taking new materials in… But is it worth it to study at all? or are we going to forget most of it anyway? Loren Eisley said in one of his books that our ideas become lost forever if we forget them, that they don’t come back. need to write em all down. So for the last fifteen years I have been writing it all down. Like crazy. cause I observed that he was right. at night when I am falling asleep, I am very conscious of the thoughts as I try to get into that meditative state without thoughts. But just before you hit that state I usually get flooded with many good ideas. If there are just a few, then I make a mental note of them and count them, and then every morning I have gotten into the habit now for a few years of remembering to ask myself about the previous nights ideas just before I feel asleep. If the number is under five, I can recall all of them. I almost never now forget to ask myself upon first awakening, “O.k. now, recall all the ideas you had just before you feel asleep and then I will write them all down before I eve get out of bed. But if the number hits five ideas or more then I have to write them down because I know I will forget all of them, at least that’s what I tell myself. So then I have to lean over and start scribbling them down. A few years ago I found this amazing pen that has a little green light at the tip where the point is, so you can write in the dark. It is amazing. you don’t have to turn the light on in your room. You just start writing and you can se what you are writing. it is a brilliant invention. God I wonder if that person made a fortune with it…. I hope so. Anyway, these are self generated ideas I am speaking of. Different than the information we collect when studying… other peoples ideas. Its interesting when you think about it. because it is a physical phenomenon, although it seems rather metaphysical because its all happening in our brain… collecting and then accessing information… but this has got be a physical activity, I mean the information must be going somewhere, being stored somewhere in or on our physical body, in the brain they say. So one would assume that it stays there. all of it. everything we ever learn. forever. just isn’t present in our consciousness at all times… I can’t necessarily recall right now what my phone number was when I lived in Atlanta ten years ago. but if you read me ten numbers I would definitely be able to tell you which one was mine. So the data does stay somewhere…. its stored somewhere.

And think of singers, which I try to be sometimes… I have written about eight or nine hundred songs so far, somewhere close to nine by now, and I cannot necessarily remember every song off the top of my head, but if I look on the list and remember the name of almost any one, and we’re talking now over a period of twenty years worth, I can instantly recall all the lyrics to any song. And all the chords. Almost instantly. And of course many people can do this with say the lyrics to every Beatles song ever written for example. Any song comes on and they know every lyric to every single song and can instantly sing along…

interesting…. the reason I bring it up is because I can’t seem to do this with other types of information, such as historical facts. Like dates and names and such. Or scientific facts… mathematical equations… very difficult to remember in the long term… but I wonder if its just a switch we can turn on in our brains like we can do with song lyrics… maybe just some mechanism that needs to be turned on…

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January 20, 2004

Beav’s birthday today. Glad he was born. Thank God for it. I would die without him in my life. he is the light to my darkness.

Dreamed last night that somehow I ended up in studio/office/communal living space. just ended up there without knowing how or why I was there. I recognized everyone there. many people from my past. But not people I would normally hang out with. Not my ultimate group. but more like just associates. people I am friendly with but would never hang out with or be real close to. and the whole place is filled with them and somehow I am all of a sudden there working with them, and supposedly working with them. something had gone terribly wrong. what the hell was going on? Why was there? it was a gross feeling. It was a lost feeling. I am awake now. I understand the dream. I know what it meant. you cannot spend your time with people or in situations that are not ultimate for you. or you end up going down the wrong path. Like little Genevieve said the other day, I believe there may be more than one soul mate for everyone, just depends on which one you choose. I just sat there thinking about that for a moment. Wow. I think she may be right. Or when the Stallion used to tell me that she didn’t necessarily believe in just “one fate.” That if someone fucks up then they fuck up and there they are lost down some path they never should have gone down. I am starting to understand that more and more now. I used to think everything happens for a reason. That “you’re in the right place at the right time.” and all that. I don’t believe that so much anymore. I think instead that we can really just get off course sometimes and we are not in the right place at the right time. sometimes we can be way off track and everything is not meant to be. this fucking dream I had. what a nightmare. I kept roaming around the different rooms thinking what the fuck am I doing here? I don’t really like any of these people. Am I trapped? What is happening? Sometimes we can feel trapped in our lives. By our own circumstances.

[last night Columbia came over to watch a video. We tried to kiss. It didn’t work. I think it was the first time that I ever tried to kiss a girl and had it go so badly. I mean, seriously we tried and tried and just couldn’t get it to work. It was weird it was like trying to drive a car that wouldn’t work. It felt like we were robots. It was crazy. and the weirdest part is that we have all these things in common. For weeks I’ve been so amazed at how aligned we are on so many different things. she loves classical music and opera and brie and guacamole even. I mean, c’mon you’d think we’d be making this mad passionate love by now. but we just can’t get it to work. But the wonderful thing is that we decided to talk about it. I mean, imagine that. no blame or hurt or whatever. we just talked about it and laughed hysterically about it and both decided that we should definitely continue to hang out and become the best of friends but just not ever try to kiss again…]

Last screening: Angela’s ashes. Necessary viewing. What a film. Fantastically sad and moving. Even more so because it was true. I wrote on the large drawing pad next to my bed in huge letters the title of the film so I would have to wake up everyday and see it. just to remind me not to be like the father in the film. What a fucking loser. I think that’s one of the reasons why I have not ever got married or had children yet. just don’t want to fuck it up.

First talk show up went up on TTV: I’m into it. want to do more. http://www.transcendence.com/mediagallery.html

“I often dream about falling. Such dreams are commonplace to the
those who climb mountains, I read once. Lately, I dreamed I was
clutching at the face of a rock, but it would not hold. Gravel gave way, I
grasped for a shrub, but it pulled loose and in cold terror I fell into the
abyss. Suddenly I realized that my fall was relative; that there was no
bottom and no end. A feeling of pleasure overcame me. I realized that what
I embody, the principle of life, cannot be destroyed. It is written into the
cosmic code, the order of the universe. As I continued to fall in the dark
void, embraced by the vault of the heavens, I sang to the beauty of the
stars and made my peace with the darkness.”

– Heinz Pagels, physicist and mountain climber

Self Obsessed

January 19, 2004

“the role of the revolutionary artist is to make revolution irresistible”

Vancouver goes entirely insane. Decides to tour with the Latin singer. we decide from now on he will be our Brian Wilson. Find someone else to tour with for now.

Trying to study Einstein’s theory of Special relativity. Having to read the same paragraphs over and over again to understand. Need to take some course or something where they can draw me diagrams and show me pictures. Try to initiate some contact with the left side of my brain.

Hung with jazz. She looks in the mirror and says oh my what a beautiful work of art you have there. oh never mind its my reflection. Laughs. we talk about how completely self obsessed she is. oh don’t worry jazz, I think plenty of people are that way. look on our website. Half those pictures of me I took myself. If you look closely you can see the camera. don’t worry you have along way to go to get as self obsessed as I have become over the years. I have perfected the art of self obsession. “I’m such a mystery to myself” she says. So I am just always so fascinated by me, she says. We agree that it can become quite an obsession. Having this love affair with yourself. But after all if one is to become obsessed with something, why not have it be yourself. She can’t stop looking in the mirror.

When people have kids they start becoming obsessed with their children instead. you can always tell people who have kids. [at least those without nannies] because they never look quite as good as those without kids. They start sporting that ‘just thrown together look’ everywhere they go. in the grocery store to buy some coffee ducky goes for the ground coffee and I’m like what the fuck why would you buy it pre-ground? Grind it at home. I have three kids fishy. I don’t have the time to grind coffee. I thought oh my God, remind me never to have kids will ya. Jazz is lying on the bed explaining that she is her own child…. I’m the same little girl that I was when I was four but now I am older and have to take of that little girl… only in America can we be so completely vain and selfish and somehow find a way to get away with it in our own eyes and the eyes of others. Now she’s off to France for three months. Our airwaves are now filled with reality TV starring people as self obsessed as everyone watching wishes they could be.

Four of us, four different people in three different countries working on the band website all day today together… so cool. all of us communicating through email and msn simultaneously. The technology revolution in full swing.

Went to South beach tonight on a date. Cannot write about it. yet. But South beach is a cesspool. Its no wonder why everyone closed up their clubs there. in the old days Madonna and sly Stallone and anyone who was anyone lived in the neighborhood. But those days are long gone now. everyone has left now. its just so dirty and hard to stand even for brief moments.

Current Spin: Madonna new one American life. really starting to like it. I love her.

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January 18, 2004

Went to dinner with Ducky who is down to hang with her parents for a few days. Caught up. talked all about all of our old friends from high school and what everyone is doing now. everyone is married with children now. hearing about all these people that you went to high school with and their marriages and children and divorces really made me appreciate how lucky I am that I hadn’t got married yet. I know I wasn’t supposed to feel that way. looking at all these pictures of people with their kids, on the boat or at Disney world or whatever. I think your supposed to feel really happy for them and like want that for your own life. but for me it just made me so happy that I’ve been able to live the crazy nomadic lifestyle I have over the years and very relieved that I don’t have all that yet.

Hadn’t seen her parents in like twenty years. Her mom is telling me I’ll never get married. Your just the perennial bachelor. You’ll be sixty and still think you’re in college. I plead with her no Mrs. Ducky its absolutely not true. I would love to get married. Maybe…. Hehe. I just haven’t met my wife yet… but if you see her, will you please let her know I’m looking for her and tell her to call me on my cell phone….’ she didn’t know if I was kidding or what. Just looked at me like oh my God this kid is still totally insane…

The older you get the more you really start to appreciate the friends you have. the really old long standing been there forever kind of brothers and sisters we collect through the years. its such a nice feeling. Hadn’t seen each other in years and there we were drinking and eating and joking; commented that we felt as if we had not spent any time a part at all. that’s what old friends feel like.
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The whole time warp thing is still happening. I pull over on the side of the road all the time now to write on my laptop; I’m doing this thing where ever I am I just pull out my laptop or a pad or my guitar and I just start working. Take notes or work on a song. I’m on this date the other night and we’re at this gas station and I’m pumping gas but then I whipped out this pad and started taking notes and I forget that I’m pumping gas and there’s this girl in the passenger’s seat waiting for me. She gets out and says what the hell is happening? What are you doing? Oh you know just taking some notes here on the trunk. Sorry. It’s like a time warp.

TheTranscendenceDiaries

Month: January 2004

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Who Am I?

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Picking Up Hitch Hikers

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Studying – Is It Worth It?

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Self Obsessed

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