Again I return to say nearly nothing at all.. Well, the past month and a half has marked in itself some major changes in me. I suppose I should explain in chronological order. I went to New York City for CMJ Music Marathon on September 14 - 17. It was my first time in New York City. I must've seen 30 or 40 bands while I was there as well as previewing Martin Scorsese's documentary on Bob Dylan called No Way Home and Walk the Line, a flick about Johnny Cash starring Joaquin Phoenix. I highly recommend everyone see No Way Home, even if you don't like Bob Dylan, its probably the best "rockumentary" I've ever seen. The Johnny Cash movie is alright, but nothing to change your underwear for. Most of the bands I saw while I was there were just a variety of indie bands that most of you have never heard of and, most likely, never will. Just the same, it was a new music experience and a bit of a culture shock. I could never live in New York. Too many fucking people breathing down your neck, too many ipods, too much consumerism everywhere. I need my personal space where I can just sit back and hate everyone. In New York, you're never more than 5 feet from the next person and if you want quiet, you have to shoot yourself in the face. Thats all I have to say about that. The following weekend was the big meditation retreat I was talking about in my previous entry. Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday of meditation and vegetarian meals in a Catholic center in the wilderness known as Our Lady of the Pines. It was an interesting experience. I suppose I learned a lot about myself. I learned 3 things for sure: 1) I can only stay focused for a limited amount of time before I just want everything around me to die, 2) I could never live in a structured environment where every minute of my day and my actions are planned out for me, and 3) I can only go so long before I have to eat something that bleeds. The whole weekend was supposed to be about personal reflection and in that it was successful. I wound up breaking just about every single rule they gave us because there were no real consequences for my actions. I have a problem with authority, planning, and organized religion. Therefore, this place was bound to irritate me. I’m not saying that it wasn’t a worthwhile experience because I really did do a lot of thinking and it gave me a chance to reflect on my life and my interaction with the outside world. Everything there was just so slow and relaxed, which is completely different that the usual environment we are all immersed and pretty much the opposite of the way I had spent the previous weekend. My next 2 weekends were relatively depressing. I learned of my grandmother’s sickness just before I went on the meditation retreat and her condition worsened and, by Friday, things were not looking good. So I went home to discover my grandma, live and in flesh and blood, my flesh and blood in a hospital bed, strapped down by a respirator and a cold sweat. And through the pain and the drugs she looks at me through her pale, fading eyes and says “It hurts and I’m tired of fighting it.” Fighting back tears, I wipe her hair, grasp her hand, and say “I just want you to feel better. No matter what that takes.” The following week, the woman who was flesh and blood transcended the bonds of life, love, and pain to become an object. What was once alive is now dead, what once was “she” is now “it.” Sad, true, whatever you want to call it, in the end, we all just want the pain to go away. And here I am, a week later. After carrying flesh and death in a box to its final place, watching as wrinkled cheeks carried tears of goodbye, here I am. What more can I say than that I am and I have to be until the pain takes me as well. Well, this entry was sporadic as always, but I don’t want to leave on a sad note, so I guess I’ll just leave you with a song. Download it: Willy Mason - "Where The Humans Eat"