21 May, 2004

Better Than One In Sixty Four

...chain, chain-chain/chain of fools.....

"Buddhist, huh? That mean you don't kill bugs?"

"No, I do. But I feel really bad about it."


Can I just say, stupid fucking humans? The Apostle really has GOT to call me, unless of course his refusal to answer my psychic primal scream is linked to the chain of non-events that make me certain beyond certainty that were I to throw I-Ching on myself, I'd get Bound To The Mountain.

I don't even have to engage my paraphenalia. I have Bound To The Mountain memorized. Burned into my conscious, subconscious and id. It's a good oracle, as I tell the sitters that throw it, when their brains are suspiciously filled with images of shackles, chains and eagles feasting on a live heart.

Bound To The Mountain. Fuck.


Late supper with BuddahPat was lovely, though the restaurant deemed it needful to refrigerate us. He teased with forecasts of vivid dreams resulting from sushi consumption, but allowed that I might have a different experience with "just vegetables." Admittedly, his meal was far more visually compelling than mine.

A hint: do not be deceived by ice cream the exact color of wasabe.

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