It is the rim of the
cup, white porcelain,
rounded smooth where
lips touch, where I can
see, but not really see
steam and aroma floating
up and over, falling
across right the moment
the idea of sitting next
to you, the smell of coffee
like jungle like steamy
dense and green
mountains, is the smell
that awakens me, that I
think when I think of
you…the smell of coffee
once known once forgotten
once forgiven for being
elusive binding daring
smiling, the smell of
coffee drifts along with
me from this place, this
seat, this moment…to
you…and rounded white
porcelain rises and falls
in a rhythm a heart beat
a pulse of knowing the
moment is now is you is
me sitting across the smell
of coffee

In society, we fight—loudly, viciously, brutally—over tiny, irrelevant details because we are in mortal terror of looking at actual issues, fearing the unsolvable monsters we truly believe them to be. In our deep fear, we devote our most precious energies and time toward fighting with each other and proving—again and again—only that we are human; imperfect, flawed and fallible. This waste, this astonishing waste of our resources only serves to define us as scrabbling insects—fighting over scraps of garbage at the feet of giants—and not the giants themselves, able to capture and hold the universe in their hands.

To rise above the inexorable pull of mediocrity in this rancorous world we have created and continue to perpetuate, we need only to get out of our own way; slip the bonds of self and embrace humankind—and by doing so, ourselves—with complete love and acceptance. It is only by losing who we believe we are and giving away our personal supremacy that we can regain the ultimate power and change this thinking that is guiding us toward a future almost unimaginable in its stark inability to enable and sustain joy and happiness.

We—you and I—can do this now, we need no one’s permission but our own and, once on that path toward awareness, we cannot do anything else but look at the actual issues through the lens of reality and see them for the drab, lifeless things they truly are…not the monsters they have always been…and solve them.

Believe. Go. Do.

~TrevorZen

A mirror brings together
the light reflecting
a life selecting, collecting
what we see when
we *only* see

A mirror cannot show us
the unsuspecting
a non-detecting, connecting
pane of silvered glass
is all it can be

Sad that some people only see with their eyes
with a truthful soul you can gaze into infinity
let love become the knife that cuts the disguise
and allow you to truly see your own divinity

The razor edge of love, for yourself, for others
slices falsehood and despair from bones of fear
leaves what is left, as it strips and uncovers
an image no mirror can make as clear

Understand the mirror
as it is unrelenting
always repenting, unaccepting
devoid of anything
that can’t be seen

Embrace the mirror
as a single perspective
reflective and selective
knowing there’s never any you
hiding under that sheen

Mirrors show the complicated masks we wear
designed by hatred and loathing for who we are
love is the uncovering of all that is ever there
a beautiful and perfect soul, a gleaming shining star

Beauty can never be the choice of the mirror
it can only be the choice of those who stare
it can be weighed down by our own dark fear
or raised by a soul that love has laid bare

Embrace yourself
as a beautiful reflection
your selection, connection
without mirror
without fear

Regardless of being a Republican or a Democrat, a Libertarian, Independent or a communist, let me ask you something simple. Do you think that when you do something for someone, above and beyond just being civil and helpful, you should be rewarded? Really, it’s a serious question. Do you think that when you expend effort (that you could be using for yourself) to make that widget or write that report or teach that kid or fix that car…do you think that your effort is worth something?

Yes? I think you’re likely saying yes (unless you’re independently wealthy or homeless) because you have a job and a job is all about you trading your time and effort to someone and in return they give you money. Plain and simple. Regardless what you actually do, that is what happens. How much money you get for your effort is all about what someone wants to give you (and how you can convince them to give you more) because they *own* the money therefore they get to decide what to do with it. Just like with the money that you own…you get to decide what to do with it because it’s yours…no other reason is needed, correct?

But…that’s not exactly true, is it? You don’t actually get to decide what to do with the all of the money that someone wants to give you because before you get it, someone else, a third party, takes a chunk of it from you…and gives it to someone else. Wow, that seems a bit unfair…after all you worked hard and it was a fair trade (well, as fair as you think it could be…or could negotiate) yet you have no choice who gets that missing chunk of your money. And make no mistake, it is your money…you traded your time and effort for it, no one else’s…yours.

As it turns out, that third party who’s been taking the money from you takes money from a lot of other people…people just like you. And they give it to people who have not worked hard and traded their time and effort…people you might not like or agree with their lifestyle but, you have no choice. That third party basically *makes you* (they have guns and will lock you in a box if you don’t do what they say) give your property to someone who you would never know, would never invite over for a beer at a barbeque…who you would never, ever imagine being friends with. People who will not trade their own time and effort to anyone yet will compete with you for the things that you need in your life. Things that the third party supplies like roads, school classrooms, someone to put out a fire at your house…someone to protect you from evil…

These people who do not work hard like you get the same things from the third party that you do, so, in effect they get for free what you have to pay for. This means that the money you’ve traded your time and efforts for has less value because you have to use some of it to pay for services others get for free. You have no choice. Effectively, the third party decides how much your time and effort is worth and how much of that worth you ever see.

So let me ask the question again; do you think your time and effort is worth something?

I just installed the new Office 2013…and I’m impressed. More later if I get around to it but this is really about testing out the ability to publish a blog post straight out of Word. 😉

So let me ask you a question…seriously too (I know I fuck around a lot)…at what point in the future of this amazing country—and it is a truly fucking amazing place—do we admit to ourselves that we can’t do everything we want to do? Regardless of how important it is, or how humanitarian it is or even, that if we don’t do it we believe the country will be destroyed…the facts are that we’ve become so large with so many competing priorities, so many special interest pushing and pulling that we effectively cannot move forward or backward. And, importantly, if we do the honest things and admit we can’t be fair, we can’t be balanced, we can’t give everyone everything they want, what next?

It’s always been kind of the American ideal that there was nothing we could not do but that was when this country was a child, when we thought we were indestructible and tomorrow would never come. We fought wars for moral reasons and to protect the future but I can’t remember the last war where either of those was true. We used to believe that we could do anything because goddammit we went and did it! We split the atom and landed on the moon for Christ sake!…we honestly and painfully examined ourselves and saw that we were dead wrong and gave women the vote and passed the civil rights act…we accomplished grand and truly astonishing things simply because no one told us we couldn’t. And if they did, we just plain didn’t believe them.

As we grew and the country was a virtual teenager, we idealistically saw government as an enabler of freedom and a protector of the weak; the collected conscience of a people manifested in our desire to embrace progress and lift he quality of life for everyone. But, like all teenagers, idealism is no match for reality so the help we thought we were giving to the third world was just another form of enslavement but this time without whips and chains, instead we used money and guns, bombs and napalm…we thought throwing money at problems, dictators, and repressive governments would make them go away but they only made them very expensive problems. Problems that lasted for years and some are still going on.

Because we were teenagers (admit it, we still kind of thought tomorrow was never coming) we did not understand what it meant to be self-sufficient, we threw money we didn’t have at those problems, which was then lost forever, so ultimately we had to borrow just to eat, just to hreat the place…to send the kids to school…but we’re approaching middle age as a country and the debts are coming due. We are in so much debt there is no way that we will ever pay it back…and we’re borrowing more and more every day…but after the other countries stop lending, where do we go?

So I ask the question “if we can’t do everything we want, what can we do?” Can we still say that the government protects the weak or now, does it create a weaker citizen? Can we say that we embrace progress when we look at our elected officials and see that nothing changes year over year, when the same sordid squabbles over the same meaningless bullshit is what has become the work of congress and the house of representatives?

I know what my answer is and it’s one I don’t like at all…but I am sure that it is the only one I have….yet there is nothing I can do about it. I can merely sit here helpless along the siding, elbows on knees, my face in my hands and watch the grand train that used to be this country pick up speed and head toward it’s date with destiny. This is not a Republican or Democrat problem, this is an American problem that has to be solved by America. I hope to fuck we can do so in time…

I look at the country
I live in
the people around me
the words that
I read, and
I don’t understand
I don’t want to
understand…there
is so much that is
good here
so much bounty
humanity
a way of life
a magnet that
draws humans from
every corner
of this earth, every
place else…why?
On TV, the papers,
blogs, we seem to
hate each other
we scream over
our own words
over our heads
we run into walls
that we built
we elect people
we don’t like
who don’t know
who we are…yet
they come…they
come over walls
across rivers
on jets and
on foot
they come…why?
I think we can’t
see where we live, too
close, too comfortable
too familiar, too
every day, we live
without living because
we never learned
never had to learn
weren’t taught to die
to shut the fuck up, to
suffer, to be killed
for thoughts of
freedom…
I look at the country
I live in
the people around me
the words that
I read, and
I love this place.

Love conquers fear. Simple, straightforward and to the point…loving who we are beats the living shit out of fear every single time. Why this is important is because it is fear—about not being loved, not saying the right thing, not being the right person—that stops us from being honest with people…with ourselves. Fear is a merciless bastard because it makes us do the exact opposite of what we know we should. Fear drives us to pretend to be someone else, say things we know are untrue, act in insincere ways and hide who we really are. Fear makes us tell ourselves that we’re not good enough and that we don’t deserve to be loved just for being ourselves.…but that is wrong; really, really wrong….and ultimately destructive.

First and foremost, self-love allows us to be honest with ourselves and truly accept that some people will not like or love us for who we are…and we can never change that fact…and that’s really OK because once we give in to fear and hide our true selves, for damn sure we won’t like or love the results. Love who you are, accept who you are, know you can change yourself if you want and need to…banish fear…

Believe. Go. Do.

I was thinking of the phrase “That which does not kill you, makes you stronger” and I have some concerns. If you think about Darwinism and the fact that natural selection weeds out undesirable genes—generally those genes that have a negative effect on the species ability to propagate…ineffectual genes are ignored (most of our DNA are these junk genes) then the act of “almost” killing you really does nothing to the genealogical chain. Especially, if it is not directly involved in either the birth or mate selection process—2 major contributors to genealogical change—therefore the “something that doesn’t kill you” has no ability to make any significant (read; future) change to you or your genes. In fact, the “something that didn’t kill you” usually just hurts like a mother fucker and gives you nothing positive in return so the phrase is meaningless.

Also, if you think about it logically, *anything* that does not do you in—kills you, offs you, destroys, mangles, mauls or otherwise fucks you up until you are dead dead dead—qualifies in this case to make you stronger. Um, don’t get me wrong but eating 4 bowls of double-dip chocolate ice cream back to back makes me stronger? OK, where the fuck do I sign up for that?

So, next time someone says that little phrase to you (thinking they’re helping you out), whack ‘em in the face with a board or a pool cue…to make them stronger of course 😉

Hey kids, let’s have a shittiest day contest!! Sound fun?  OK. Let’s start…me first: OK, I got a frantic email over the weekend that said that if I didn’t move my car BY MIDWEEK from the garage of the house I still own in Morristown, NJ, the people buying the house would “dispose of it”.  Seriously, the exact words.  I had Sunday to figure out what to do (understand I had Monday in which to do anything because of work)…so keep that in mind…

The car has been in that garage for almost 20 months and had suffered some water damage from a leaky roof so I had no idea if the thing would actually start…or stay started if it did crank up.  I had the keys here in BK so no one could even check.  Because I *had to* move the car, I had to assume 1 or 2 things; it ran or it didn’t.  If it ran, then I could drive a rental truck (with a car carrier) to NJ, start that puppy up, drive it up on to that carrier and haul it back to BK (it’s uninsured and unregistered…I didn’t look forward to $1,000+ traffic ticket bonanza if I got caught driving it).  Or. if it didn’t run, I would need some way to transport it other than drive it. Getting it on a carrier would be impossible and what would I do with it once I’m back in BK?  So I figured the safest thing would be to rent a truck and carrier and go get it.  Seem simple, eh?  Welcome to my world.

Ah ha!! There is a Budget truck rental place down the street AND they have car carriers so a little internet magic and I was set up for Monday morning 9 AM pickup.  Forward to 7:30 this morning…the rental place calls “we don’t have any car carriers.” 

Me: “Your national website said that you do and took my deposit”. “

Him: “They can’t see our inventory so they don’t know.” 

Me; (biting my cheek, hard) “Um, well then why have a website where you can reserve things that you have no idea whether you have or not?”

Him; “Here’s the number to call the national office and they will help you.”

Me; “But you won’t.”

Him; “I only work here.”

So I call the 800 number at 7:45 AM and slog my way through the 7 levels of automated response hell until I get to the EXACT right choice (a car carrier was not available at the place of original request…fucking amazing, eh?) and after telling me that the national availability manager surely knows of my problem and is likely doing everything in his power to help me, unfortunately, they are closed and do not open until 7:30 AM…and then hung up on me.  This is before I’ve even had any coffee.  This is a new and distinctly vile smelling level of hell I’ve never visited.

I called my local clueless Budget employee and let him know that I’m sure that the national office was doing everything they could, short of recreating the 1968 moon launch, to help me but unfortunately, they hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.  At this point my teeth were shoeing through my cheek…but I have to hand it to Raul, or Pepe or George because he did rally and told me that he would call around for me.  20 minutes later he rang and said he found one in Manhattan…well…it was actually in the Bronx but was being delivered that morning to Midtown and he put my name on it.  I simply had to go to West 45^th  (btw 9^th and 10^th) after I picked up the truck here in BK and  they would set me up.  Oh lovely…driving uptown during morning rush hour…but lucky for me it wasn’t as bad as I suspected.  The short rotund Hispanic behind the counter this time was Mickey and he told me that the driver left already and would be there in 30 minutes.  Of course my New York ears translated that time on the fly so my brain heard “at least an hour but it could be 2”.  He told me that I could go get a cuppa Joe but if I didn’t want a parking ticket, I needed to sit in the truck.  I sat in the truck.

45 minutes later I checked with Mickey for an ETA and true to the shining example that is NYC efficiency, he told me that the guy left 20 minutes ago and should be here inside of 10 minutes…of course I made no motion that he told me 45 minutes ago half an hour…I just went back to the truck.  20 minutes later the guy showed up with the carrier, hooked me up and I was on the road. Total wait time 65 minutes or so…but who’s counting?  I go back to thank Mickey and ask him “I can go through the tunnels with the truck and carrier, right?”  He beams at me and tells me, yep, it’s A-OK (remember that).  I head over to 39^th street and get in line and eventually cross over to the “hated land” through the Lincoln tunnel.

The trip over to deepest darkest Jersey was uneventful, the truck ran, the carrier made mad booming noises on every bump…what I expected.  I get to the house and look over the joint having not set foot in it for 20 odd months…and immediately and quite forcefully did not regret moving to the city.  I went to the garage and eventually broke in (no power, no garage door opener) and saw the car.  It was a mess.  The garage roof had partially caved in above the car (from the massive rains in NJ last year) and the attic floor was the only thing preventing total and utter destruction.  I opened the car and saw that almost every leather surface was growing a rather pretty coating of mold and the smell is hard to describe, so I won’t (again).

I connected a portable car jump device (basically a battery with extra jump juice in it) and tried the car.  The damn beast played with me for an hour (cat and mouse, um, I’m the mouse) pretending to start then shutting off as soon as I let go of the ignition key.  Bastard.   I started calling around for people I knew in Jersey looking for a reputable car repair/towing place because that’s the only way it was coming out of the garage…oh, and it was in nose first so even jumping it would have been impossible (why I had the port-a-jump).  But, I couldn’t actually talk to any car repair place because I had a conference call with work so from 1 PM to 2:30 PM was me with iPhone to ear, standing in the kitchen, looking out the window at the car every 3 minutes…mentally calculating rush hour traffic through tunnels and over bridges whilst driving a 16 foot truck and car carrier.

Finally off the phone I went back on the phone and cornered a local shop who came highly recommended by one person…my real estate agent who was, at the time, in Florida.  I called and they were very nice and within 40 minutes another short rotund man (Caucasian this time…well, it is Morristown) and he sorted me pretty quickly and he was off.  I wrapped up my biz in the house, took one very dry-eyed last look and climbed into the behemoth for the trip back.  Note that it was 3:30 PM when I put it in drive.

The trip from the outer reaches of civilization back toward all that is holy and revered wasn’t that bad, considering I think that the long term plan for I-78 is to never, ever stop working on it.  Seriously…still?  But I was finally relieved of my good fortune once I got to the Holland tunnel, in the right lane (cash OK) and paid up and about to enter the gates to urban heaven when two Port Authority Cops started waving their arms and yelling at me.  I roll down my window and ask what is wrong and they tell me that I cannot take a trailer through the tunnel. I stared for what must have been an hour but was likely a second or two (but, but Mickey said…) and said why did the lady let me pay then?  They ran back, got my money back from her and directed (not quite with guns drawn) toward the exit and round about so that I could head back from whence I came. 

At this point I could really spoil your dinner but I will not detail the arduous, painful and how utterly devoid of humanity it was during the 2 1/2 motherfucking hours…HOURS…from the Holland tunnel to the Lincoln tunnel up US 1/9…in a 16 foot leviathan of a truck dragging an anchor called a car carrier effectively making my vehicle 40 feet long. I’ll leave out the $59 I was charged to actually go through the tunnel because I was a “commercial vehicle”…I’m not going to regale you with the laughter and glad tidings of missing light after light because some piece of shit driver in a regular sized car whipped into my spot…I won’t tempt you to chuckle at the impossibility of driving that monster through NYC city streets that were originally made for a couple of pals with just enough room to walk side-by-side.

No, I will be noble and will not continue to nibble at your funny bone but will instead end this joyous tale by letting slip the tiny, almost insignificant detail that for the privilege of going to hell and back, held viscously and unmercifully in the mouth of that two-headed Budget Truck monster…ALL WITHOUT BRINGING THE CAR OR ANYTHING ELSE BACK…I was charged the delightful and completely appropriate sum of $438.50.

Oh, and I walked in my door at 8 PM (remember when I started out from 30 miles away).

I win.