ack ack this sun shines

finally, a blustery late autumn day. rather than, oh let me not mention it, how usual days are here in the Du.

seriously feel as i my life got highjacked a couple of years ago, doubly hijacked earlier this year, and only now is returned to me, in a state of near emergency. the emergency is that i need to produce writing! i need to dance! i need to get healthy!

there is a block in my heart in regards to all these things, a fear, an unknowing as to how to go about the writing, and the dance. as with dance, so with writing, there is a languange, and a syntax.

but the style is everything, and the content is all up to me.

i have forsaken everything else in life, but for the chance to fulfill this duty. the duty to express that which is most beautiful in all of existence, this being the marriage of objective and subjective "realities". while these "realities" are merely conceptions of objects and forces in the objective sense, and perceptions of these conceptions in the subjective sense, these conceptions and perceptions are already mingled with will and desire,imbedded in forces as forces of an earlier predisposition.

and yet, i feel so deathly afraid, unfit, incapable, wobbling and hesitant at this threshhold.

writer's group

here in Chengdu, Sichuan Province, China, a group of expatriates meets on Wednesday nights to talk about writing. like, we write, a couple of us prepares something for us ahead of time, and sends it out on to the email list, then we read it and talk about it.

this stems the tide of feeling lost in a foreign land, motivates us to drive stakes, our language, into the ground, as holding points against not meaninglessness, but chaos.

yeah chaos is the proliferation of meaning, too much of it so that no matter what you do, it won't make a difference.

the old narrative. that only a few people will get to live out their dreams, while they put the rest of humanity to work for them in this pursuit.

why did i stop posting?

last post was April, 2009. then i went on the road, touring family america for a few months before coming here to China. here in China i have been unable to log onto Checkash...so apologies, for not making to netscene, blogger anyhow, for just over two years.

it's been tough, unable to log onto Facebook, Youtube, Twitter, or Blogger. it's been tough to be An American outside of America. it's been tough to study transcendental literature from communist confucianists.

but it's been undecidably easy,

to live this life in China
amongst the friends that I've met
in the foods and charts
of gods
on earth

good to be back. i shall continue

one day

when i'm a famous author, either commercial or literary...i will reflect back on this blog

checkash

which i still may keep at that point....who knows...

and marvel at the innocence...the purity of my words here. completely unadultered, raw, unadjudicated...magnificent.

earning not a penny, failing miserably on many accounts, often, but every once in awhile i say something that means something

inside a stone just inside the woods by a stream cast upon a stick

when i really take it seriously

life is warfare

except there are no generals or treasury

only me, the intellectual elite
trying to get somewhere

friends

i pick up spiritual thieves
along the way
and make them mine

i'm listening

to this bbc.chinese.com broadcast where they're interviewing, in Dharamsala, India, a member of an independence for Tibet group. he talks about how the Han, Chinese have taught Tibetan schoolchildren Han Chinese and brainwashed them into being commmunist party members. he says the brainwashing has not worked on the kids like they thought it would.

my mind flashes on a memory. a precious memory that i've remembered many times,...

my shoes fall apart in Lhasa. i leave the hotel room barefoot. close west-facing door on the second floor, stand a moment leaning over the bannister, look at the Tibetan servants in the courtyard below. they smile, sing, it's mid-morning.

i walk up the main street, it's made of gravel and dirt, i am barefoot. the sun is strong and beautiful on my shaved head. i turn right into the main market which is thronging. i find a pair of green velvet laundry slippers, pay for them, and put them on.

that's all i remember, of that particular memory. that pair of shoes, too, has long since fallen away.