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Übersicht
Über mich
CURRENT MISSION
A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream
ABOUT ME
The pre-road madness which ticks away at time
Devours my consience and digests my mind
Ink on an atlas that I wish to find
Burns in a blur turns my light off I'm blind
Strive for a new life with a past full of crime
Littered life with a lemon in my drink with a lime
Highway shines a light for my soul like a beacon in the night
I yearn for my turn for a chance to dance and fight
Evening full of dreams turn nightmarish with a fright
So I block out all the talk and my images of sight
And dream of the day I spread my wings and take flight
White Fish Montana tugs my line real tight
PHILOSOPHY
I need sunny skies in my eyes and the wind upon my dreams, and the love and the hugs from another living being, and the clouds behind the owls in the trees of the breeze, and the stars in the skies beyond the midnight freeze.
Everything's not certain when that final start will crash while nothing is for certain when the curtains turn to ash and your dreams will be all filled with the lonely lives of lust while your bones will dry up in that dreary desert dust and the thoughts and the memories of a childhood dream shall die as your hopes and your highways start to seam like a lonely thought or even some lovely dreams growing in the garden with army ants who come in teams and the people you once knew and the times you must have had and the cries you once shed and the times when you was glad and the songs that you sung and the do that thing that you do and the pain and the hurt and the love that sticks like glue and the blood and the guts and the sticks that break with stones along with the streets lined up with all of those happy homes and the punks along the way that want to fight but only play mind games burn in flames I found this out along my way.
You'll never hear the voice in that cold Texas night that made me shake with fear all thru the night, it tingled all my thoughts on that Cali bound bus and it's tone all in the skies became darkness around all us.
I never thought that I would make it but now I see that I am back to crying on my shoulders there's no signs on Sugar Shack.
Interessen
- fish
- dancing
- drinking
- gardening
- shopping
- traveling
- cycling
- fishing
- beaches
Musik, Filme und Bücher
(Jack Kerouac) - On The Road, The Dharma Bums, The Vanity Of Dulouz, Desolation Angels, Big Sur, The Subterraneans, Dr. Sax, Lonesome Traveler, Some Of The Dharma (Allen Ginsberg) - HOWL For Carl Solomon (Lawrence Ferlinghetti) - A Coney Island Of The Mind (Hunter S. Thompson) - Fear And Loating In Las Vegas: A Savage Journey to the Heart of the American Dream (Neal Cassidy) - The First Third (Ken Kesey) - One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (Edgar Allen Poe) - The Unabridged Egar Allen Poe (Tom Wolfe) - The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Tests (S.E. Hinton) - The Outsiders (Kurt Vonnegut) - Slaughterhouse Five (J.D. Salinger) - Catcher in the Rye (William S. Burroughs) - Junky (Lawrence Lipton) - The Holy Barbarians (Gregory Corso) - Mindfield New And Selected Poems (J.R. Tolkien) - The Hobbit, Fellowship Of The Ring, The Two Towers, Return Of The King
Eine tolle Erfahrung, die ich gemacht habe
Memories come back to me of a mind boggling trip that lasted three and a half days with me best uncle/brother/friend. Both of us embarked on this sunny escapade with only one bicycle from Crescent beach just south of St. Augustine and by the time we reached the land of Marine I had seen a big ole twenty-six inch mountain bike with big black baskets back to front. Smiling at the silliness of the sight of it and our wonderful luck of finding this sandy, salty gem with it's Key-West bike shop sticker stuck I laughed out loud watching me best uncle/brother/friend named Chuck who is a short man in a tall world give it a whirl with our new black mountain girl only twice going off our concrete path with front tire sinking in sand and catapulting me short travel companion to take wing Schwindling we decided it best to swap girls. He now with me lost lovely Omle' Patterson sporting a twenty inch glide more suitable for ride with such short stubby legs. Freedom poured down on me teenage rage from sunny skies of father's eyes as me young heart tried to fulfill dreams of childhood nights I cried. And how the sweet sweet sweat sat on brow basked in the glow and how it shined and showed mortal realm so lovely and anticipating. Stuck on an island somewhere down there praying for sleep and finding no such suitable spot I crept up to a sea-side hotel/motel and was greeted well by some vacationing fellows as the radio bellowed and was offered a cold brew for me and the short saint too who arrived after I on shoes pushing Omle' Patterson. Conversating with our newly appointed friends of thee old, bold road we were told of a spot to sleep and was given two hand rolled wonders for our fabulous trip and informed to wait till we got THERE. Are we THERE yet? I ask myself now years later alone on the west coast. I am baffled by this game of life.
Alone....Alone
Ole bag of bones