And I've traveled from here to there and back again, from the freezing gale to the crazed inferno, east of the moon and west of the sun.

I don't quite know how to recommence with a blog to all of you. There are plenty of you that I might hurt if I went on in full candor describing each and every minute detail of my absence from myspace expression, but then again that way I might avoid all your glances and glares as you might miss the big picture if I shrouded it in subtle nothings and details. Anyway, if I have hurt you in the past few months, I am truly sorry, but there is little I can do about it now, save for apologizing and admitting that I feel very much like an idiot for having done so.

I've been trying really hard for the past few weeks to realize my own nature. Not entirely in sobriety, au contraire, I've been drunker than a sailor on shore leave all too often lately.

Incidentally I've stopped working and have been slouching around in my own head, onwards to oblivion.

In some aspects I'm once again realizing my own lackluster ways, my own flawed nature as some people would courteously and quite erroneously describe as a diamond in the rough, I've rather found that the closest I am to that these days is a misplaced pebble in a mountain of cow excrement.

But I'm not going away into oblivion, nor am I going to go into teetotaling sobriety or any other such nonsense. I'm just cutting down on my consumption of alcoholic beverages. I've been considering what to do with my self. I tend to get so horrendously bored by other people that I get myself into a drunken stupor, it's becoming a habit due to the sheer amount of boredom I go through these days, or any other days for that matter.

That doesn't change the fact that I really, really hate to worry other people or for that matter hurt them, but these are common practice for any drunk, no matter how well raised, mannered or flawless they seem to be, and I'm only the first one of these three.

For all too long I have been limply trying to harness and tame my aggressive nature and steer it down a positive road, but I'm getting too bored to handle that either. It may be that I'm just a sad ol' prick at a young age or that maybe I'm just lonely.

Nick Drake's 'At the chime of a city clock' comes to mind:

The city clown
Will soon fall down
Without a face to hide in.
And he will lose
If he won't choose
The one he may confide in.
Sonny boy
With smokes for sale
Went to ground with a face so pale
And never heard
About the change
Showed his hand and fell out of range.

Whatever that meant.

There is a summer storm outside my window. This kind of weather always makes me crave some warmth and company, but at the same time desire nothing but solitude. Although at the moment I'd also give either of my cat's ovaries for a smoke. They just don't have 'em anymore, so I can't have a cigarette to relax this tingling sensation of confusion in me.

The other day, me and a couple of mates went to a so called 'Sweat', which is pretty much a form of steam bathing or sauna in a sweat-lodge American Indian style.
This was my second time around and I felt no spiritual upheaval as many of my less skeptic friends. I just felt physically better for a while, but even more thirsty. I don't mean for alcohol or water or such, but for a better life, for something worthwhile instead of this eternally downwards sloping spiral of mental and sensory masturbation.

Something good.

Well.
Some might say that I was indeed reborn from my ashes in the sweat-lodge. I burned my daemons out and soared in spirit.
Well. I regret to inform these parties that all my daemons are intact and these fuckers somehow had my address and they were back and branding their names into my cerebral matter not long after.

I still want that feeling. That feeling of gratitude, that feeling of being new born, fresh, blazing, burning through the sky like a rocket from hell.
Sadly enough, I'm realizing that I've developed a sort of vertigo from which I had been priorly entirely lacking in, although it's not really the fear of heights, but rather differing grounds and the velocity of descent towards them.

I realized this last night as I was taking part in the shooting of an advertisement which was partially shot on the roof of a six level apartment building. This I find quite horrific as I've been able to be completely care free of such things as great height in the past. Hell. I've been climbing since I was a kid, but I guess it may be that this sweat-lodge called out for my lust for life, my addictive nature calling out adrenaline as to make amends for being completely sober towards a dangerous point last night. Hell. I was knurded out by a caffeine jolt.

Well.

As the Übermensch one strives to be, crashes towards the ground after being airborne since it's last nativity/funeral pyre, this phoenix sings again of escape from this carnal state, it's desire to burn again, to fly, to soar and to crash again in an ever repeating vicious cycle.

Here's 'the Pyre'
Maack

Perverted by fear
to a point of no return
Where are you going to go?
When are y'going to burn?

Step into the fire
let yourself burn down

If I had another day
I know I'd spend it well
I'd stand close to you
I'd burn us both to hell

Step into the fire
let yourself burn down
Set into the pyre
Burn, burn down.

It had to end this way
Nothing could've stopped it.
I'm burnt down to debris
Ashes, smoke and shit.

Step into the fire
let yourself burn down
Set into the pyre
Burn, burn down.