There is a fire in my mind.  A blaze of persistent questions that echo like canyon screams. With unknown origin and mysterious meaning, they rattle off my valley walls and drip down the depths of my consciousness.  These questions reach my legs and lengthen my stride.  These questions force my feet to hug the corners and ignore the blisters. For it is questions like these that create the callus and heal my heels.  They prepare me for battle and provide me with promise.  They slither in my sheets and jitter me restless.  They butterfly me open and butterfly me closed.  They whisper when I’m screaming and they call out to me in silence. Timely as the sound of a church bell, these questions drive my drive and sail my ship.  I need them; so I feed them.  I Seek, I seek, I seek.  I Soak, I soak, I soak.  Without the journey there is no treasure.  Without the treasure there is no chest.  Without the chest there is no heart.  Without heart, there is nothing.  May this fire rage on forever. 

He who floats highest will be he who sees the furthest/He who travels furthest will be he who sees the most

Wisdom lies in the eyes of the experienced and dies in the lies of the stagnant.

Phony is the man with the buttery skin/Show me a man with a million scars and I shall listen.

When the oceans grow tired of listening to the wind and the waves measure twice the expected.  When the crust spiderwebs and the landscape  shatters.  When the trees sink into their root holes and the birds have nowhere to nest, nowhere to rest.     When the heat can no longer be handled.  When the water rises along with our concern.  When burning and looting is necessary.  When our computers refuse to reboot and our government loses all control.  When the wolves don’t need to hunt any longer.  When the world becomes what it will.

At twilight, a large wolf encounters a scorpion in the middle of the Mojave.  The wolf lowers his front shoulders, pressing his snout to the sand, and bows to the burning-red scorpion.  The scorpion looks up at the wolf and asks, “Why do you bow to me wolf?  You are much stronger, faster, and bigger than I. You could easily trample over me or be like all of the other creatures I encounter and simply pay me no attention.”  The wolf remains in bow pose and responds, “I bow to you because I respect you scorpion. On this particular day, at this particular moment, I find my mind at ease and firing correctly.  I have no reason to harm or ignore you.  You are a beautiful creature scorpion and simply the sight of you reminds me of how lucky we all are to be able to breath this air.”  The scorpion retreats from the striking position and relaxes into a more comfortable posture.  The scorpion then says to the wolf, ” You are the most friendly wolf I have ever met.  Actually, you are the only wolf I have ever met. If you are so friendly, why is there blood all over your fur and teeth?  I know we just met but I can’t see you harming anyone or anything.  You seem too level headed to kill.”  The wolf takes a seat next to the scorpion and says, ” The blood on my coat is my own.  The blood in my teeth is berry juice.  I was eating berries when a farmer shot me in the shoulder.  Now I am dying. He thought I was after his livestock.  I can’t blame him.  I have seen members of my pack devour innocent animals.  Which is why I chose to head out on my own and follow a new path, my own path, under my own oath.  We are nothing more and nothing less than everything else.  It is simply our turn, our try, our effort, our attempt, our chance, our journey.  It is up to us to make a difference.  I don’t need history to tell me where to go.  I don’t need the future foretold.  All I need is now, here, with you…the scorpion.”  The wolf let out an amazing howl and gently surrendered into the sand.  As the dying wolf took it’s last breath the scorpion climbed on top of the wolf, raised his stinger towards the heavens, and began to chant…

“Let the spirit of my friend the wolf not make it all the way to heaven just yet.  Let it ascend until it reaches the clouds.  Once it reaches the clouds let it stop there and gather.  Then let his spirit rain down for years and years and years.  Drenching all of us.  Flooding the land with understanding, knowledge, wisdom, purpose, and fearlessness.  He had it all figured out…he knew it was up to him.”

The scorpion remained on top of the wolf and protected his body from being attacked by predators.  He remained there so long in fact that the scorpion ended up dying on the back of the wolf just a few days later.

All we have is now.

You may tremble and you may tumble down the highway through your time.May you level and stay humble, chasing dreams and never dimes.

May your spirit rain and leave its trace on every turn. And know that a mistake is but another lesson earned.

Let the river take you and let your mind at ease.Revel, revel, revel in every moment that you seize.

May your path be appreciated and the one containing heart. And keep jealousy and your legacy lifetimes apart.

I took a sixteen hour train ride today.

I slept very little and thought very long.

I thought while I rode and wrote what I thought.

I gave what I could to the tip jar.

I ate a steak without wearing my shoes.

I read Carlos Castaneda and dreamed of the desert.

I talked to a man with a mustache.

I drank 7 cups of coffee.

I felt sick to my stomach for 3/4 of the trip.

I watched the sunset, the sunrise, and the in between.

My eyes followed a hawk for almost fifteen minutes.

I listened to “Clay Pigeons” six times.

I listened to “Nebraska” twice as much.

I lost my ticket stub.

I wrote one sentence every hour of the trip.

These are them.