They have been called, the trickster, and for good reason. Coyotes are a cunning breed indeed.

Along with this cunning they have the ability to blend in well with whatever world is nearby. Big urban areas filled with homes,  business’s, people, you will find the coyote.

The trickster can be found all across a country called, America. In remote desert settings, high mountain passes, swamps, lakes, they call where they travel, home.

Many people are completely unaware of the  various species living near them, and especially the coyote.

Today, a coyote spoke, and it spoke for good reason. It is good to listen when they speak seriously. Of course most would think that action would be crazy. That is understandable, and ignorant. It is good to listen to all forms of life, especially when they speak for a good reason.

Today, a eagle feasted on a recently killed coyote along side the road of man it had been crossing. Stuck and killed by a vehicle. The eagle feasted well.

What was the reason the coyote spoke today? Simple. It was the song announcing death. Not the death of one of its brethren mind you, rather something much bigger than the coyotes, much bigger than anyone could imagine.

Today, the coyote spoke as did the rocks as they danced. It is good to listen.

A nice tradition-of-the-moment, Black Friday that is. Surprised though that those who identify as African American don’t protest. Maybe take a knee at the checkout stand while buying a big screen tv for $20 at the local WalMart.

Interesting how there is violence associated with Black Friday in the larger cities. Not so at smaller communities.

For example,today I went and enjoyed Black Friday in a small city going by the name of Lewiston and Clarkston. Lots of stuff on sale, not many shoppers, and peaceful. Nobody lighting someone on fire or shooting someone for the right to buy an electronic appliance.

Some people complain about capitalism or consumerism but usually it is those same people who get money from the government or are some trust-fund baby, never needing to actually work.

So, from one who actually works for a  living it was a joy to be able to purchase tools cheaply today. Even scored a brand new pair of Sorel Caribou winter boots for $21.

Good job America. I applaud the idea of Black Friday and enjoyed today’s experience. Everyone’s mood seemed upbeat and the kids in tow of their parents were truly excited when perusing the toys on sale.

For those slobs who take a knee for the national anthem or those who deride Black Friday for being geared towards capitalism or whatever is the trigger-word of the moment to protest, I say, too bad so sad, it still is a free country (or close, today some of it was over %90 off!)

I’m addicted to writing. Don’t know why but I love to write. I love to write if it makes sense. I love to write if it does not. It just is fun to write!

In my world of self there exists many worlds, worlds that are separate and isolated, worlds that mix and merge. It is…wonderful!

Most of what I see no one could possibly come close to understanding. Even those who understand something still have no clue to what is out there…all around and everywhere.

Time flowing forward and backwards, bouncing like a ball on a basketball court. Time stopping and flipping circles causing more circles to stop and flip and then collide. Time for me really has no concept, no ‘set’ point. It is as arbitrary as the math so many people embrace.

Mathematics. Calculus. Physics. Quantify. Add. Subtract. Equal.

No drugs needed. No insanity. No crazy. Nothing even bordering on the impossible as what I’ve seen is as real as anything a human can feel with whatever sense or emotion possessed.

Have you ever visited yourself in the past? Maybe call it a ‘haunting’? Ha! I have. Or, how about the future? How about other universes? How about all that? Ha!

Taking for granted,the impossible and questioning the validity of accepted reality.

Hello Robin. How was your day?

(the answer is: It was over before it began and began before it was over. As such, it was another ‘good’ day.)

It is…

It always has been and always will be..

It comes as it  has come before and will come again…

It is…

The Monster

How nice it is to have alphabets and language. It was so fun to learn the mysteries of letters and how to combine them into words, and then, into sentences/paragraphs.

One thing that goes so well with writing is the imagination of humanity. It starts at birth. It even starts with lies.

A two year old confronted with a stolen cookie.

“Did you take a cookie Timmy?”

“No.”

“What’s that in your hand?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that a cookie?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I found it.”

And on and on. The young mind forming words and pictures in his young mind to justify his actions. Perfect training for what comes later in life.

What a perfect combination. Humanity. Imagination. Language. And of course, the alphabet acting as ambassador to combine it all.

Blogs and blah. Forums and philosophy.  Foolish.

Communication in a day where people talk, sing, write; campfires beneath the stars. The old ways meeting the new.

Funny though, how isolated the herd has become.

Facebook. An evolutionary marvel where people can conduct the flow of words to strangers and friends. Yet. Sad if really thought about. No tactile sense of bond. No familial reality other than that given by the glare of a computer.

Disjointed and disappointed. A whole world ‘feeling’ connected while losing the ‘connection’.

What I write means nothing. Absolute shit if you ask me but I know as I’ve seen so much, heard so much, felt so much, been so much. “Much ado about nothing,” some may say. To them, I smile as for them, it is good and comfortable to be ignorant.

Why is the self such an overriding emotion? Preservation perhaps? Pride? Value of existence? Probably a combination of all and none. Probably there is  not one answer all would accept. Probably. Probably is a wonderful ‘word’. So full of promise and yet so empty. Just like the word, maybe.

The various languages are full of words with double meanings, or actually, no real meaning at all.

‘Trust me,’  now there is a loaded combination of words. Trust: a word conjuring up honesty. Me: a word so leveled in revelation it becomes many other words. Combine the two… yikes!

A lot of jumbled words just written. A muddy page filled with gooey philosophy and for me, an outlet as I’m not a part of the herd. Never have. Never will be. Though, ‘trust me’ when it is written that I miss the old days and old ways. The days of laughter and tears. Of survival. Of being huddled around the campfire sharing gossip, news, and stories of the day. Those were the days there was a real sense of humanity and a real use of words.

Music with words sung is like poetry. Recently started listening to Macklemore and Ryan. Fun. Never really was into hip-hop or rap but they sure have an interesting style. Listening to the lyrics they are filled with a lot of passive humor.

But, music without word sung is also like poetry. Currently listening to the 2Cello’s and find it wonderful what they can do.

A lot has been written about music. A lot more will be written about the virtues of music. And what is nice to see, even in this short life span, is the evolution of music.