Seul Contre Tous...

Who is so hated as I am?... Who so much feared? But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue. It brings me closer to sorrow than anger.

"Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind."

Have not I been kind to you? Have not I offered my heart up for sacrifice? I pray that one day I will see you seeing... so that we may see together.

And with this, a simple gesture of "forever" offered to my brothers...

Music is What Feelings Sounds Like...

Music is a beautiful system of morality, veiled in allegory, and illustrated by sounds, symbols, and words. I believe the grand objective of music is to promote the happieness of the human race. At least today I do. Music is what feelings sound like. And today, when I close my eyes, I can hear the voice of G.d in the music playing. It's Beethoven's Symphony No. 5... saying...

"So you can walk on water? You are no better than a twig floating on a puddle.You can fly through the air? You are no better than this gnat buzzing around my head."


"Master your own heart then maybe you can be somebody."



When I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist. When I try to protect my family they call me a criminal.


I am convinced the earth on which we live silently remembers the catastrophies of our personal histories. But I wonder... Will the world remember those I saved?

We Only Part to Meet Again

Man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell. I've been rather nostalgic lately... trying to remember all the reasons I loved this city. Seattle, we've had our ups and downs. But you've been good to me overall.

Shakespeare wrote, "Farewell, fair cruelty.”

And so these are my feelings as a bid thee fairwell. Be good to my friends. Some of them might just have what it takes to make it, though most of them don't. Take care of your stars dear girl. We've had few, I know. But that doesn't mean it can't change.

Our evenings have been farewells. Our words testaments. So that the secret stream of suffering and pain may warm the cold of life.

Even in my absence - I write to right.

Introspection Begins with "I"

"My thoughts are scattered... I throw back a few shots, and feel like nothing matters... It's like the rain don't stop."

It has been over two years, and it's still raining.

I'm not so much concerned with the suffering of the mighty; but the sacrifices of the small, unrecorded souls. It appears that for each one of us saved, another victim must be found.

This last week I saw a different side of the human condition. It reminded me of Dostoevski's statement that flatly defines man as a being who can get used to anything. "Yes, a man can get used to anything, but do not ask us how."

Her desperation and subsequent anger were born of the hopelessness of the situation, I believe. "It's all a waste of time. It all meant nothing," She said.

"It's dead now."

My initial reaction was one of disgust; pure disgust with the shear ugliness of what was behind the statement I was hearing. It felt like a very real, external kind of hatred. A hatred you could almost taste.

I sat staring at her, realizing that she was no longer a person I recognized. Her feelings were blunted. She stood on the other side of the wall that now stood between us. She stood there with her detachment. APATHY.

I went home that night and cried. And as I cried, I said the Kaddish for her. I then asked G-d to forgive me for my sins, however last minute my request was.

She taught me love. Then showed me hate.

The Hebrew word for prayer is tefilah. It is derived from the root Pe-Lamed-Lamed and the word l'hitpalel, meaning to judge oneself. This surprising word origin provides insight into the purpose of Jewish prayer. The most important part of any Jewish prayer, whether it be a prayer of petition, of thanksgiving, of praise of G-d, or of confession, is the introspection it provides, the moment that we spend looking inside ourselves, seeing our role in the universe and our relationship to G-d.

Introspection begins with "I" - with eye.

I am sorry.

i's wide open...

I'm sitting at a bar, reeling at the FACT that I have accidentally become the man my mother divorced. I'm a selfish, egomaniac driven by power and money. Lord, I'm trying to remember to pray.

And when I think about music, it reminds me of failed expectation. In my mind, the ends justify my meanness. I see people as obstacles generally. And THAT bothers me that it doesn't bother me.

I nuture a healthy mistrust of others in an attempt to stay healthy.

whatever is Necessary...

Life appears to be a process of trying to grow one's personal power. Remember it. And live by it. Courage. A trait I've lacked for the last 14 months. But it wasn't you I feared. Or them. It was me. And that G.d might not understand or forgive me for my approach. But I know, its impossible to get to the level of success I want without making a lot of enemies.

It is my intention to own areas in communication. By own I mean monopolize and influence. I would now like to introduce you to WMG. Me.

The Nuture of Nature...

I learned today that many plants only bear fruit when they do not shoot too high...

Does this mean that I may only bear the fruits of my labor if I lower my self-expectations? Unquestionably, it is a very costly mistake to try to discover from the chemical ingredients of a grain of corn the form of the ear of corn which it bears. One only need go to the field to see the ear pipe right?

Carl von Clausewitz said, "Investigation, and observation, philosophy, and experience, must neither despise nor exclude one another." That they "mutually afford each other the rights of citizenship."

Though I have dedicated my life to this work, I am a citizen of "Nowhere."

As I undertake what I am about to do, I wonder, "Is there a place for words that do not fit onto paper? Words that yield to both the unholy as well as the holy?"

Please remind me to pray tomorrow. I forgot today. I was busy planting stunted seeds.