4th Dec - Naked Skies

4am -

Slept one-thirty till eight in the evening yesterday, before finding a slow drawn Murphy's stout, in the lonely self-conscious bar, followed by McDonald's (all the while looking on the screen at cocoa Rihanna and her ilk... beauties, temptresses... moulds of art!). On to Prestige Music Bar. Techno. Lost in my tabled partition, with expensive JD and coke and then a pint of Lech. All the while trying to overcome. Angry, self-interested, cold. Hungry for sex and touch and love. Without direction... all the others have been here before. Too many stories. Too many people. You in your own backyard... unknown.

Slept again from midnight till two. So up to read Kerouac and stand naked on the veranda, looking down on the town and up to the clear skies now ("I might be able to get up the mountains later"). Down on my bed to write and hope words formulate and that I grow child-like and tender and that one day I help the beggar or give glory to something, someone. Reasons reasons. And I think I don't need reasons. Only strength of body and mind to climb and sing and get drunk and caress. To sink down one day with thoughts of my beloveds. And our memories.

Memories of bike rides through the jungles back from Burma, talking to Long Necks and surveying smouldering vegetations, the smoke rising with the hot air and Bob my brother waxing lyrical. Hysterical laugher. Explorers. Bikers, in the warm muddy air. Hard as Fuke. Or out on the east stretching Himalayas, with my buddy of a week or so, getting high in the good air. True sages of the moment because everything was concentrated down to walking, breathing, surveying. Onwards. Zen.

4pm-

Got up the old mountain and a walk around. Then a sit in McDonalds perusing Zen Haiku by Soseki. Oh aching legs, feet, back, and brain. Feeling better though.