Blogging. I'm a beginner. Standing at this doorway looking out of it. How vast is the internet? How many people? how many kernels of wheat are in a wheat field? These are things one needs to know I suppose, or at least get your head around. So many people and yet I observe and no one sees me. I yell and no one turns their head. It's pretty cool to stand on a mountain or a cliff and take your clothes off. There's a town down there but no one can see you. Ok. I'm naked. Woo-hoo. Ok. Well.......... fuck. Now I'm just cold with the wind whistling up my arse. So - I put my clothes back on, get out my little table I brought up here, check my battery, but on some wool , scoot in my chair, sip a nice pinot - and write.

I'm not from here. I came from there. I live here now, but grew up there. There isn't like here at all. And here for sure isn't like there. Not now. Not umpteen years ago either. that's when I was there. I went back there recently. Went back to go to a funeral. I do that more these days now that my parent peers and relations are falling off the other end of the long conveyor belt of life. Sometimes several fall off at once. Sometimes just one. Last November one of my own peers - a fraternity brother - fell off. Just like that. So I look down sometimes at my feet on this rubber belt contraption I'm on, rattling and jiggling along. I look to where it's going and don't see the end of it so I put it out of my mind and go on.

The funeral was for my stepfather. Didn't know him all that well. He and my mom married long after I was old too. She loved him. He was a good man. A priest even. How good is THAT? Pretty good I guess. I keep thinking of him laying there in his casket open throughout the service, dressed to the nines in priest stuff complete with a really dapper cap. I'm not Orthodox Christian. No, I'm just an Episcopalian. Fortunately God was really busy with the other priests just-a-workin' their asses off at the service. She probably didn't notice I was there. So much incense!! I swear Christ himself was choking. well, see? there you go being an Episcopalian with your imagination.

I sat there and the words tumbled up off the scrolls, fluttered a bit, and fell noiselessly on the carpet as I drifted. I tried staying absolutely still and watched him. He was absolutely motionless. I thought maybe I saw him breathe, but probably was hallucinating on the incense. "C'mon, sit up and say 'howdy'". But he didn't. Nope. He was a goner.
Went out in a long line of cars and listened to more words, more incense. The stiff midwestern wind really whipped those embers up. the stuff was cookin'. More flowers, more words. then we left. saw the cemetery guys heading over to the 1/4 ton loader in the rear view mirror.

So, is there really life after we kick it? Life while we're taking the big dirt nap? What is life? I'm breathing. Someday I won't. One day I wasn't breathing, and then all of a sudden I did - small pink slobbering thing just breathing and there I was. Science explains what happened rather handily. How did I come to develop a brain to think of my own beginning? I'm basically a conglomeration of water, carbon and gas....and I'm sitting here thinking about that. how odd. I'm rambling. The dogs are barking. One of them did something so I end for now. It's always something.