Letter to the lost

--o-- Tranquility- With tranquility, the small goes and the great -- --comes, with auspicious success.
-- -- Heaven and earth interacting is tranquility. Thus do leaders ----- administer the ways of heaven and earth assisting the
----- balance of heaven and earth to help
----- the people.
----- 6. Yin- When the citadel walls crumble into the moat, do not deploy the army. Trying to promulgate order from your own home town is shameful even if it is right.


Broken glass has stopped them all.
For what reason does this fighting go on.
You wanting to see the angry child still crying bitterly at his loneliness.
Me peering harder and harder for fangs being licked by a honeyed tongue.
The water speaks.
Today it has been everywhere, water touching all that i have.
The rain always helps me think
calms the mind
cools the fire
Does it help you?
So many accidents today.
We seek demons in each other. Not so that we may turn our backs and run, or shun the other, but always with words of guidance.
Attempts to right the steering of a ship we see headed for rocks.
I walk and stare
Caught for a moment by the reflection
brought by a passing light.
White and straight, but ah
so many paths at the end
breaking off to vanish in blackness.
Gone in an instant.
She was beautiful.
The MC asks for all the big eyed girls to holler.
I liked saying confusing things to her, it made her eyes go wider
She called me Superman, i think she said her name was Ruby, i just called her beautiful.
Broken glass strewn across the street. Trucks backed up for miles.
I like China because you can pee anywhere.
Can the nature of a strong love be that you always feel the need to be active in it.
That you cannot enjoy the calm and just sit?
I think it can.
It has been for me.
I had wanted to sleep outside.
Wake to the mountains,
maybe even with the sun.
Stand out under the night sky naked,
meditating through slow motion.
But his smile was so nice. His desire to shelter me apparently so genuine.
"The sky is black."
Chinese is a language of unfathomable depth and character contained in seeming simplicity.
Its strange the way they work.
No desire for the subtle interplay and buildup.
Stand off, put up barriers. Brush your teeth, wash your face, and climb into bed to sleep.
But then the first touch.
I can see a few stars. But only where they just break the mountaintops.
The heart of the sky still filled with the clinging afterstorm grey.
The ground would have been wet tonight.
I would have worried for Sleipnir.
My hands are my favorite tools. I think i learn best through them.
They all use too much tongue. Too much force and eagerness.
I am a fan of the subtle teasing dance. Waltzing slowly.
Advancing forward to feint back. Build to a crescendo through the circle steps not the straight line. Less fun when you just start smashing the gong from the start. Steps, a time and place for each.
With her, every moment not acting, not working i worried that maybe i could be doing more.
Never thinking that i didn't have to.
Then
after it had broken.
After we had each been ruined and put ourselves back together.
I went to see her.
And sitting, sitting at her feet
me playing my games, and her hers
i felt the calm without anxiety.
And i think she did to.
And so we lay side by side. I came to tell her that i finally understood.
That at last i was able to love her as a person and not as a girlfriend.
Leave some markers for the kiddies, ink suits me better. Maybe keep the blue one, always a soft spot for blue.
The knight of cups riding forth.
But lo, all of the water being spilled.
When your heart is made of fire
love feels like it should need constant motion.
Still fire is dead, a frozen flame.
I needed to be building you up or breaking you down. It is the only way my nature knows how to love.
Glass strewn on the road.
Pick up a shard
So beautiful, she was so beautiful.
Always the older women here.
Vagueness a necessary skill of the trade.
Age means nothing i have too many, why don't you tell me how old i am now.
So eager.
And its over.
No sense of satisfaction.
Those big beautiful eyes.
Chinese girls present a problem.
Hard to satisfy.
Squeamish and uncomfortable with you trying to please them.
A culture telling them sex is for the man.
Don't try to give them head, it just makes them nervous. Fuck and you are riddled with anxiety as "how painful" is muttered over and over again. Guilt, sometimes you even have to help assuage the guilt they feel at fucking a stranger. So few able to view sex as beautiful.
I put the shard of glass into my pocket. Maybe poke a hole in the condoms.
Knock up a beautiful chinese girl. Get my feet stuck down so i can come to love them. Give arranged marriage a shot. Maybe teach them to love life and pleasure a bit more. Share some intimacy, good for the both of us.
With moving feet one can only do so little good for another. But then again as Nietzsche said "To love only one is a barbarity exercised at the expense of all others."
Clouds are made all the more beautiful by the way they play with shadows.
If you mix all the good things together does it make it better or is it dabbling in Tabasco sauce and ice cream?
Tomorrow, honey and green tea. Sustenance enough.

Yin flows into yang
Goats standing by a river
the children come to sit
with their mother
watching
Light becomes dark
Where the tree bends low.
Carving at the edge
supported by quiet flow from behind.

Graffiti and noodles

"lei, bu lei." Hai hao. Press on. names thrown here and there. His hand sways along pointing to the mark he chooses to leave. Darting around, leaving black prints in their wake. Throw ups here, claim some turf for the crew. Bags being packed in anticipation. Black books passed around for sketches to be shared. We sit and wait, for what i don't know. Waiting for the magic hour to hit. Wait until you have to leave, then you know the rest of the world has begun to close. Closed eyelids give a much better surface to write on. Pushing on, a goal or destination, not one i know or think they do either. But certainly somewhere we must reach
If you paint on temple walls Buddha will strike you down. "No Buddha loves his hip-hop." Drop a beat to Amitovah. Hit the clappers, bang the drums to build up your fat rhythms. Shaolin is the sickest b-boy crew in China.
Crossing bridges where everyone loves each other forever. Everyone except the few.

"You are the last person i want
to see in the world.
I hate you so much, but thank you.
Why you always be in my way."

How many of us smoke. Better get at least two packs, make that three. Sit under their florescent lights, black books out. The old uigher just stands by my side looking down. Others stop to stare in too, an offense unacceptable in the lost home. The culture is just not the same here. Stand in the street. Spray your mind out on the wall, people might just stop to look for a moment. If you want to stay around don't touch the trains. You may end up getting a phone call in Shanghai. At least its not Japan, no one will kill themselves for you, but you won't be around.
Another pack finished. Watching it burn down slowly, hanging on the rim. Enough ash in this soup already i am sure. I watch it burn and we catch eyes for a moment. Understanding need not be spoken.
He can translate for me even though he says the same words i do.
Cookie takes forever, but he showed me where the yellow tower was so i could nod my head 3 times. Standing on a bridge, no, not like the Mississippi (always sing the song in my head to spell that out, in honor of childhood duels, have to keep the skills sharp). Interesting in its own right. The cigarette butt flies through the bars.
Staying with these cats for the last few days. i can throw up a diamond for the smuggler with a heart of gold. Trying to help the women sneak out their unborn babies now. Good luck finding your wife this week.Where do the people come from, where am i going to have met them?
Give those beautiful women a little taste. Don't paint the trains, well maybe this one.
Sure the kids like you, but even here in our hood they give us no respect.
They give no respect because they don't understand.
Their gov may try to find them, but ours will find us. you just get a phone call in Shanghai and the party is over. We want to paint, it's just we don't have to hide and if we did it wouldn't work. Paint, paint to the line just don't cross it or you're gone. Just cans, sitting, waiting to be picked up again and a piece that never got finished.
Cans thrown into bushes, nervous looks back. Feet slapping the pavement, cross the street, turn down the alley. I cannot help but smile. Feet pounding, heart smiling. Gucci apparently too precious even for the chinese.
Tears quietly welling in her eyes as we pull away. I no longer even feel a pull when the goodbyes must be said. The train whistle blows. Always a new chapter coming always a new one added i would happily return to. Is it the state of the world or the state of me?
The cans rattle. I don't want noodles, just some tea. I want to sit and think. Remember i am working so i just need to watch now.
Waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for the rest of the world to slowly wake. Tracing back my steps now. As we traced last night. Then to return like proud mothers taking the photos of our childrens first glimpse of light, the first time the rest of the world got a chance to see them. And back.
You may be one in a hundred, a thousand, a million but i am here to let others knw.
RAY
JEX
TIM
Cookie
LHY
NeverEver
Hubest

Graffiti and noodles